The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum - View Single Post - The Green Dragon Inn #11

littlemanpoet · 06-11-2005, 08:10 PM

As twilight slowly gave way to dusk, to dark of night, Uien sat before the Hawthorn tree, allowing herself to dream, and the tree to be free from her observance. Eyes unclosed, she dreamed from memory.

She was one of Galadriel's maidens, sewing the cloaks the eight remaining members of the Fellowship would wear. Lorien was home, Caras Galadon her beloved city in those many years leading to the War of the Ring. She had been stricken with grief at the news that the grey pilgrim had fallen in Moria.

As they sewed, she looked to the Lady of Lorien. She was herself a young elf lass of a mere two hundred or so years, the last babe of Lorien. To sit with She who had been in Valimar, who had crossed wills with Féanor, sat at the feet of Melian of Doriath, had known Luthien the fair, and had seen the dimming of the Light across three Ages, was like a being a seedling beside the eldest mallorn, a puddle beside an ancient fountain. And these thoughts did little to express the greatness of the Lady.

Galadriel looked at her maidens with eyes that knew all their thought with but a glance, for she could read the hearts of anyone, and her maidens had no secrets from her. Yet this was no troubling thought, for the Lady's wisdom taught her maidens much, and never betrayed their thought to others. It was like sitting at the feet of the very gods of Valimar.

Uien had been amongst those in the house of Lord Celeborn when the Fellowship had first come to them. She remembered the Ringbearer, whose grief at the loss of the Grey Pilgrim was plain for all to see. She remembered how the Lady had looked into the hearts of each of the Fellowship, and how the servant of the Ringbearer had blushed so quickly. She and many others had smiled, for he had been thus revealed as true to his master. She had been struck with wonder at the words of the Dwarf, who had become famous already in the brief span of years that had passed since the end of the War, for his wealth and unselfishness; the Lady's word had proved true, as well it might. Then there was the man of Minas Tirith, whose hard eyes quickly looked away from the Lady. Many in that chamber frowned and boded it ill. Then there was their kin...

Someone tapped her shoulder. She withdrew from her memory and looked up and behind. It was Falowik. She smiled. The memories would always be there.

"Yes, my love?"

"It is getting late. Is this where you wish to spend the night?"

"Aye, Lauréatan. Come rest your head upon my lap and sleep well this night."

He knelt beside her, his eyes shining with unshed tears. His voice was gruff. "It has been a long, hard day, my fair one. It is good to see you whole again." She smiled. He lay down in the bower, resting his head on her lap. She caressed his brow, and soon he was asleep.

Then there was their kin, Legolas from the court of Thranduil....

06-11-2005, 08:10 PM	#1995
littlemanpoet Itinerant Songster Join Date: Jan 2002 Location: The Edge of Faerie Posts: 7,066	Uien As twilight slowly gave way to dusk, to dark of night, Uien sat before the Hawthorn tree, allowing herself to dream, and the tree to be free from her observance. Eyes unclosed, she dreamed from memory. She was one of Galadriel's maidens, sewing the cloaks the eight remaining members of the Fellowship would wear. Lorien was home, Caras Galadon her beloved city in those many years leading to the War of the Ring. She had been stricken with grief at the news that the grey pilgrim had fallen in Moria. As they sewed, she looked to the Lady of Lorien. She was herself a young elf lass of a mere two hundred or so years, the last babe of Lorien. To sit with She who had been in Valimar, who had crossed wills with Féanor, sat at the feet of Melian of Doriath, had known Luthien the fair, and had seen the dimming of the Light across three Ages, was like a being a seedling beside the eldest mallorn, a puddle beside an ancient fountain. And these thoughts did little to express the greatness of the Lady. Galadriel looked at her maidens with eyes that knew all their thought with but a glance, for she could read the hearts of anyone, and her maidens had no secrets from her. Yet this was no troubling thought, for the Lady's wisdom taught her maidens much, and never betrayed their thought to others. It was like sitting at the feet of the very gods of Valimar. Uien had been amongst those in the house of Lord Celeborn when the Fellowship had first come to them. She remembered the Ringbearer, whose grief at the loss of the Grey Pilgrim was plain for all to see. She remembered how the Lady had looked into the hearts of each of the Fellowship, and how the servant of the Ringbearer had blushed so quickly. She and many others had smiled, for he had been thus revealed as true to his master. She had been struck with wonder at the words of the Dwarf, who had become famous already in the brief span of years that had passed since the end of the War, for his wealth and unselfishness; the Lady's word had proved true, as well it might. Then there was the man of Minas Tirith, whose hard eyes quickly looked away from the Lady. Many in that chamber frowned and boded it ill. Then there was their kin... Someone tapped her shoulder. She withdrew from her memory and looked up and behind. It was Falowik. She smiled. The memories would always be there. "Yes, my love?" "It is getting late. Is this where you wish to spend the night?" "Aye, Lauréatan. Come rest your head upon my lap and sleep well this night." He knelt beside her, his eyes shining with unshed tears. His voice was gruff. "It has been a long, hard day, my fair one. It is good to see you whole again." She smiled. He lay down in the bower, resting his head on her lap. She caressed his brow, and soon he was asleep. Then there was their kin, Legolas from the court of Thranduil....