I am Galadriel, Lady of Light, of Lorien, Lady of the woods.: Many things they call me – the Naugrim truly see me in a Fey light – witch indeed! I was born in Valinor, though I succumbed to the temptation of the Middle Earth, and followed the Noldor to Beleriand before it fell below Ulmo’s waters. Here I was gathered in by King Elu Thingol, Lord of the Sindar and husband to Melian. I have heard the Dunedain sing the Song of Beren and Luthien from afar, and knew her in my time. Princess of the Noldor and Queen of the Silvan Elves am I: my grandmother was Vanyar, the fairest and wisest of all elves, who never left the Undying Lands, teachers and students of the greatest lore.
Perhaps I suffer the woe of vanity in this pride, but it is what makes me able to bear the weight of Nenya, the Ring of Adamant, that binds mine and my peoples’ worlds and futures. Whilst it seems bright under the stars, my mirror feeds tendrils of doubt into my mind. I see great potential for a future of treachery of close-held friends. The White Council is wise, and we hold power still, but there is a...reluctance from some - Mithrandir loses himself in his Hobbits (much as we have lost Radagast), and Saruman the White leans precariously into the elder lore of Ring-craft. We delay when I see coming darkness, and I have seen many a future where all lies under shadow – that, however, is the curse of my gift that is my mirror.
A catalyst has been set in motion, and I am alone, standing at the very edge of the existence of Elves upon these lands. The Bearer of a Ring of Power carries the weight of the world upon them, and I see much around me begin to fade into uncertainty and doubt. My mirror of Nimrodell’s clear waters shows me much of Sauron’s Will and the White Council may yet fail in our efforts to stem the tide He unleashes. I see the very might of Mordor, the plight of the weakened race of man, yet my realm stands on the balance. Should we stand alongside Men, when their need is greatest, or shall my people follow the longing and go to the West in the swan ships of the Teleri?
The Galadhrim, my marchwardens of Caras Galadhon, are not without strength and great skill, and the Ring Nenya gives me the power to hold time in my kingdom, to sustain and heal my demesne<old spelling of domain>, but do I follow my yearning yet, or ever can I <thanks Orion>? Do we owe men a war? The great Mallorn trees house us – nurture and protect us, but we are at constant threat from the goblins of dank Moria and the Shadow and Flame that slumbers or else awakens. Of old we know these demons, and there the insanity of the Dwarves comes to the fore once again! They think they can contain it, these few hundreds, this Balin, son of Fundin. So much stock in names! They will need more than just themselves, and where do they think they will find it? Do we owe anything to those that woke the terror of old, the Valaraukar that even we Noldor at our height could not simply ‘contain’?
That said, the greater threat lies in that of Dol Guldur to come, for I have seen it – the delays of the White Council in purging it’s taint may have undone Lorien! We have few friends upon this side of the Misty Mountain: the elves of Eryn Lasgalen, the Court of Thranduil, are far away and relations with the Dwarves (should they survive what they have started) and with Balin will prove strained at best.
My mirror shows what is, what was and what will be, but I see the Great Eye in my dreams and have watched the rebuilding of Barad Dur. The threat to Gondor is great, but there is strength there; strength beyond the Dunedain, who hide, never the less great in their bloodlines. The Noldor of Imladris are leaving these shores and I would yearn to leave too, but I have seen the birth of something rare ahead, and mean to see it either fall from the path of light, or see a tiny sliver of hope bear fruit. Sometimes there are things, sometimes necessities that keep us from some of our desires; Valar, am I not done with the mortal world yet, or is it not done with me?
Dark times are upon us indeed. Elves cannot stand alone, yet they have power still to act. Is that not what is important? We stand at the crucible of the elves’ future upon these lands and must decide our path by the will of our own.
My husband is one of the greatest warmasters of the ages and my people can yet hold off assaults on Lorien, but do we have the strength to take the war to the foe themselves? If we do (and we must), then our tale is not yet done. Lord Celeborn; lead the woods of Lorien to war and I see the possibility of victory – a possibility is not yet enough, but oft have we lived on hope alone. Make war on the Enemy and perhaps Man will not simply wither under the onslaught of Mordor, on the vicious blade of the Orcs, and the trolls that walk in daylight. Manwe’s Great Eagles have not yet given to despair and neither will Lorien. My Lord, we must fight, albeit to our doom. Tragedy will strike my people and only you can save us in the days ahead. Together we will live in Anor <Anar?>’s Light, Elbereth’s Stars or fall into Shadow. Lead us to either, Lord, for hope is everything.
Perhaps I suffer the woe of vanity in this pride, but it is what makes me able to bear the weight of Nenya, the Ring of Adamant, that binds mine and my peoples’ worlds and futures. Whilst it seems bright under the stars, my mirror feeds tendrils of doubt into my mind. I see great potential for a future of treachery of close-held friends. The White Council is wise, and we hold power still, but there is a...reluctance from some - Mithrandir loses himself in his Hobbits (much as we have lost Radagast), and Saruman the White leans precariously into the elder lore of Ring-craft. We delay when I see coming darkness, and I have seen many a future where all lies under shadow – that, however, is the curse of my gift that is my mirror.
A catalyst has been set in motion, and I am alone, standing at the very edge of the existence of Elves upon these lands. The Bearer of a Ring of Power carries the weight of the world upon them, and I see much around me begin to fade into uncertainty and doubt. My mirror of Nimrodell’s clear waters shows me much of Sauron’s Will and the White Council may yet fail in our efforts to stem the tide He unleashes. I see the very might of Mordor, the plight of the weakened race of man, yet my realm stands on the balance. Should we stand alongside Men, when their need is greatest, or shall my people follow the longing and go to the West in the swan ships of the Teleri?
The Galadhrim, my marchwardens of Caras Galadhon, are not without strength and great skill, and the Ring Nenya gives me the power to hold time in my kingdom, to sustain and heal my demesne<old spelling of domain>, but do I follow my yearning yet, or ever can I <thanks Orion>? Do we owe men a war? The great Mallorn trees house us – nurture and protect us, but we are at constant threat from the goblins of dank Moria and the Shadow and Flame that slumbers or else awakens. Of old we know these demons, and there the insanity of the Dwarves comes to the fore once again! They think they can contain it, these few hundreds, this Balin, son of Fundin. So much stock in names! They will need more than just themselves, and where do they think they will find it? Do we owe anything to those that woke the terror of old, the Valaraukar that even we Noldor at our height could not simply ‘contain’?
That said, the greater threat lies in that of Dol Guldur to come, for I have seen it – the delays of the White Council in purging it’s taint may have undone Lorien! We have few friends upon this side of the Misty Mountain: the elves of Eryn Lasgalen, the Court of Thranduil, are far away and relations with the Dwarves (should they survive what they have started) and with Balin will prove strained at best.
My mirror shows what is, what was and what will be, but I see the Great Eye in my dreams and have watched the rebuilding of Barad Dur. The threat to Gondor is great, but there is strength there; strength beyond the Dunedain, who hide, never the less great in their bloodlines. The Noldor of Imladris are leaving these shores and I would yearn to leave too, but I have seen the birth of something rare ahead, and mean to see it either fall from the path of light, or see a tiny sliver of hope bear fruit. Sometimes there are things, sometimes necessities that keep us from some of our desires; Valar, am I not done with the mortal world yet, or is it not done with me?
Dark times are upon us indeed. Elves cannot stand alone, yet they have power still to act. Is that not what is important? We stand at the crucible of the elves’ future upon these lands and must decide our path by the will of our own.
My husband is one of the greatest warmasters of the ages and my people can yet hold off assaults on Lorien, but do we have the strength to take the war to the foe themselves? If we do (and we must), then our tale is not yet done. Lord Celeborn; lead the woods of Lorien to war and I see the possibility of victory – a possibility is not yet enough, but oft have we lived on hope alone. Make war on the Enemy and perhaps Man will not simply wither under the onslaught of Mordor, on the vicious blade of the Orcs, and the trolls that walk in daylight. Manwe’s Great Eagles have not yet given to despair and neither will Lorien. My Lord, we must fight, albeit to our doom. Tragedy will strike my people and only you can save us in the days ahead. Together we will live in Anor <Anar?>’s Light, Elbereth’s Stars or fall into Shadow. Lead us to either, Lord, for hope is everything.