The Silver Flame (LOTR)

Embracing the Light

The air in Lothlórien was thick with the scent of blooming flowers, a fragrant reminder of the beauty that surrounded them, yet an unshakeable weight rested on Visenya's chest. The Fellowship had just settled into a clearing beneath the grand, golden leaves of the Mallorn trees, their branches woven together like a protective canopy. As they prepared camp, the sun began its descent, casting a warm glow over the forest floor and illuminating the faces of her companions, which were still shadowed by the grief of their recent loss.

Sam, Merry, and Pippin sat together in a huddle, their eyes puffy and red from tears. Visenya could hear their muffled sobs, and her heart ached for them. They had faced unimaginable horrors, the darkness of Moria and the death of Gandalf still fresh in their minds. She approached them, crouching down to their level, her presence gentle and reassuring.

"Hey, my little hobbits," she said softly, her voice soothing like the gentle rustle of leaves. "Why don't we prepare a warm meal? It might help you feel a bit better."

Merry looked up, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I don't think I can eat," he murmured, his voice shaky.

"Not even a little?" Visenya pressed, her tone encouraging. "A hearty stew will do wonders for your spirits. Just think of the flavors and warmth."

Pippin, always one for a distraction, tried to muster a smile. "Can we add mushrooms? I like mushrooms."

"Of course!" Visenya exclaimed, a smile breaking through her own grief. "Let's gather some, and I'll make the best stew you've ever had."

As she set to work, she couldn't shake the heaviness in her heart. Each chop of the vegetables felt like a reminder of the world she had left behind, of the life she could no longer return to. She glanced up at the golden canopy, her thoughts flickering to Cregan and her children. Would they be safe? Would they remember her? Visenya tried to push the thoughts away, to focus on the present, but it was a struggle.

The air began to fill with the rich aroma of cooking, and slowly, Sam's head lifted, his expression shifting from despair to curiosity. "What's that smell?" he asked, the faintest hint of hope igniting in his eyes.

Visenya smiled, feeling a flicker of warmth in her heart. "Dinner is served, gentlemen! Come, gather 'round."

As the hobbits joined her, the tension of their grief softened, if only for a moment. They laughed softly, sharing stories of the Shire and the mischief they had been known for. Visenya listened, her heart swelling with fondness for the little creatures who had already endured so much. Their laughter rang like music in the air, and for the first time since leaving Moria, she felt a semblance of normalcy.

Once they finished their meal, the fellowship gathered around a small fire, its flickering flames dancing in the twilight. The deepening dusk enveloped them, and soon the ethereal songs of the elves began to drift through the trees, wrapping around them like a warm embrace.

The melody was haunting, filled with notes of longing and remembrance, a ballad sung for Gandalf, the fallen wizard. As the hobbits listened, tears began to fall once more. Visenya watched them, the light of the fire illuminating their sorrow. She felt a pull in her heart, a desire to honor Gandalf's memory, yet the overwhelming sense of loss threatened to consume her.

As the last notes of the song faded into the night, Visenya stood, her heart racing with uncertainty. The memory of her life in Westeros washed over her in waves—Cregan's laughter, the soft whispers of her children, the warmth of home. It was a life she could never reclaim, and the realization crushed her.

The rustle of leaves drew her from her thoughts, and she turned to see a figure stepping forward from the shadows, luminous and graceful. It was Galadriel, the Lady of Light, her presence radiating a calm that washed over Visenya.