Galadriel, feeling lost in the chaos of the party, waves good-bye to Frodo and finds a tree that's out of the way of all the action. she sits, with her back against the tree, and giggles at the sight of a Rohirrim dancing with a group of hobbits. she sips her wine, and wonders if she'll ever feel like she "belongs".
[ May 20, 2002: Message edited by: Galadrie1 ]
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"For this is what your folk would call magic, I believe; though I do not understand clearly what they mean; and they seem to use the same word of the deceits of the Enemy. But this, if you will, is the magic of Galadriel."
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