Galadriel, Lady of Lothlórien (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
inafadingcrown) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
eachdraidh2014-07-15 10:31 am
inafadingcrown) wrote in eachdraidh2014-07-15 10:31 am
Entry tags:
memory/video- open to all courts
[A dark tower looms before the owner of this memory, filling the screen of the locket-as it had filled her vision- but only for an instant. There is no time to stand and contemplate it. There is too much that must still be done.
The last vestiges of battle still rage around her, the sound of steel and the singing of bows echoing in her ears. But a quick scan over the battlefield reveals that she nears the end of it. Only a small number of Sauron’s soldiers- orcs and other foul creatures- remain. The rest lie dead or dying, slain by the combined armies of Mirkwood and Lórien
The video settles on two men, both unmistakably commanders. The first man, for those who know him, is easily recognizable as Thranduil. But it’s the second man who is the focus here- tall, strong, with handsome features and silver hair that can just barely be seen around the edges of his helm. He turns to look at the viewer and gives a solemn nod, communicating without saying a single word.
It is time.
With slow, deliberate steps, she moves forward, coming to a halt once she has positioned herself directly in front of the tower. Then and only then does Galadriel speak, her calm, clear voice ringing with power.
The words will be strange to most; there are not many in the Drabworld who speak Sindarin, after all. But, as it so often is with elven tongues, the meaning of her words somehow remain clear. With utter confidence and certainty, she declares her mastery over the tower, dissolving the fell magic that has seeped into the very stones of the building.
And the tower listens.
She raises her arms in one final, dramatic, gesture and the walls of the tower begin to crumble and collapse upon themselves. In only a moment, nothing remains but a pile of rubble and a cloud of settling dust.
The memory fades to the sound of cheers.]
The last vestiges of battle still rage around her, the sound of steel and the singing of bows echoing in her ears. But a quick scan over the battlefield reveals that she nears the end of it. Only a small number of Sauron’s soldiers- orcs and other foul creatures- remain. The rest lie dead or dying, slain by the combined armies of Mirkwood and Lórien
The video settles on two men, both unmistakably commanders. The first man, for those who know him, is easily recognizable as Thranduil. But it’s the second man who is the focus here- tall, strong, with handsome features and silver hair that can just barely be seen around the edges of his helm. He turns to look at the viewer and gives a solemn nod, communicating without saying a single word.
It is time.
With slow, deliberate steps, she moves forward, coming to a halt once she has positioned herself directly in front of the tower. Then and only then does Galadriel speak, her calm, clear voice ringing with power.
The words will be strange to most; there are not many in the Drabworld who speak Sindarin, after all. But, as it so often is with elven tongues, the meaning of her words somehow remain clear. With utter confidence and certainty, she declares her mastery over the tower, dissolving the fell magic that has seeped into the very stones of the building.
And the tower listens.
She raises her arms in one final, dramatic, gesture and the walls of the tower begin to crumble and collapse upon themselves. In only a moment, nothing remains but a pile of rubble and a cloud of settling dust.
The memory fades to the sound of cheers.]
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Celebrían has told you, then?
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[ he shrugs back sadly ] But yes, always. You know that.
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I do. And I am grateful for the intention, whatever the outcome may be.
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[ He bows a little ]
Go safe, Alatariel.
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