The dark-clad figure moved with surprising grace, in absolute silence. Scaling first one hedge, then another while barely disturbing the delicate flowers that adorned them, the figure avoided the occasional pool of torchlight that aided the moon, climbing from tree to tree. Black cloak wrapped tight, the figure dropped down behind one of the sentries of Lothlorien unnoticed. An arm around the elf’s throat, an inescapable pressure, and the sentry went limp, to be hidden at the base of the hedge.
The figure moved ever deeper into Caras Galadhon, with relentless purpose…avoiding one vigilant sentry after another until finally it stood atop the long stair down into Galadriel’s own garden, moonlight streaming through the golden leaves overhead like a cascade of glowing water. They had ridden a long way to come to the Golden Wood and had little time to spare. However the figure paused, setting one foot tentatively upon the stairs as if fearing that they might be smote by a vengeful Lady of Light. When nothing happened, the figure breathed again and flipped back her hood. Xandilif, Champion of the Azure Faithful looked noticeably relieved and spat. “You can only keep me out for so long, ya fecking harpy, no matter how many damn gates ya build and giant plants ya grow…Who ya callin' Churl now, huh?” she muttered and slipped down the stairs, staying low and silent. For all her bravado the Banshee still had no desire for Galadriel to know she was here. Why tempt fate? Anyway, she was here for a reason.
It had been a long, long time since Xandilif had been in this garden, but it’s beauty and peacefulness was not lost on her despite her haste. As she moved quickly along the pathways she stopped and stared at the gleaming waterfall, shaking her head. “If they ever let Xanderian back in here, she will be naked and wet in no time flat.” she muttered, then moved up a small hillock to her true goal….Galadriel’s fabled Mirror.
Moving up to its simple, gleaming surface, the Champion swallowed hard and slipped a flash of grog from her belt. She drained the last sip and dropped the flask to the pristine grass. She slipped a small, wrapped fragment of glass from a pouch on her belt. “Well….here goes nothing….” She whispered and dropped the glass into the clear water. The fragment of dark glass had been all that was left of the mirror the necromancer Desad had conjured back in Haldrith, in which he sifted back through the history of the woman Ellsabeth. Just before he had shattered it, it was focused on a moment in time that interested Xandilif.
The bit of glass sank to the bottom, and as it touched the silver basin the water slowly turned a purplish black. Xandilif winced. “Elbereth’s knickers…if I broke her damn mirror Goldilocks is gonna turn me inta a newt….” However, after a few moments the sheer power of the mirror overwhelmed the lingering evil of the rapidly fading fragment, cleansing it as Xandilif had suspected it would. Cleansing it…and expanding it.
Slowly, the entire surface of Galadriel’s Mirror was filled with a scene inside a Rohirric chamber, well more than a century in the past. A woman could be seen, an old woman by her bearing and steel grey hair, washing blood from her hands in a rough hewn basin. As Xandilif watched her, the woman tensed, clearly aware of the observation, and turned slowly, facing what on her side must have been a simple wall mirror. She peered into the glass and her eyes widened. “Well….this is a surprise. It seems if I am to believe me looking glass I have become one a’ the first born….Uru be praised.”
Xandilif spat and stared at the woman through the mirror. “Shut it, ya silly crone. I ain’t got a lot of time and we need to parlay for a bit. If you are the Witch Moyna, then ya got the foresight so if ya think for a minute you will know who I am…or will be…or whatever.”
The old woman nodded softly. “I know well who you be, Xandilif the Banshee of Imladris, the Last Lion, Maiden of Madness…and if you know who I be as well then ye are well along in this little tragedy. Foresight of events beyond my death canna’ give me the whole picture…just the outlines…and still there are ALWAYS surprises. I admit..I had never expected that happy little waif I raised to come across a lover such as yourself.”
“DAMMIT NOT YOU TOO! Why does EVERYBODY think that, ya damn lechers?” Lif spat again and gripped the edges of the mirror with both hands, leaning in. “I ain’t her lover…it ain’t nothing like that. I love her…but I don’t LOVE her…if ya get me. I take care of her is all, ya dirty-minded hag.”
Moyna smiled knowingly. “You take care of HER? Are you sure, my ageless visitor, that it don’t be SHE who takes care a’ you?”
Xandilif scowled. “NO…I mean…not only….dammit it’s complex!”
The woman nodded, drying her hands. “It always is in matters of the heart, and the soul.”
The elf’s eye hardened. “Well you should know about souls. Soulreaper, ain’t that what they will call ya, the Trev Gallorg when ya become their worst nightmare, leadin' their little ones off to die like dogs?”
Moyna looked down, deeply pained. “Aye, that is what they will call me, with good reason. I have seen that much, and see as well it is a doom I cannot avoid nor should I try. I’d forgotten how cruel the First-born can be….how…inhuman.”
The Banshee frowned. “I…I’m sorry. I didn’t come here ta bust yer chops…or ta fight with ya. I ain’t got time for that…I got a question for ya.”
“So I had gathered…” the woman whispered, looking up with bright eyes. “Then ask it in haste, I already feel the edges of this glamour fraying like a poorly made rug.”
Xandilif swallowed hard, and her gruff demeanor faded just a bit. “Is this all a goose chase, something ta stall and keep Babygirl busy when ya know you doomed her, that there ain’t no hope at all? Is all of this a fecking game so you don’t feel so bad about not bein’ able to keep her death at bay? Would it be better if I just took her away and kept her happy until…well…until I gotta kill her to keep her from becomin’ someone else..someone she would hate ta be?”
The woman paused, thinking long and hard, her eyes clearly wondering where such a question came from…then her gaze softened as the realized where it must have sprung from. “If I felt her doom could not be escaped, I would have slew her as a girl and saved the risk. If all is lost, there is a good chance that my soft heart and vanity will have brought a great evil back to the world. I expect Aganalu, the sorceress who’s soul Finchley unwillingly bears, would even give the Princes of Mordor a battle at the end of time and her return would be my fault and my fault alone.”
Xandilif nodded slowly, listening.
“No, this be no game, daughter of Elbereth…it was to a degree a fool’s hope…a stall as you said…but I am seeing now it was well worth it after all.” The old woman smiled at Lif’s confusion.
“What is that supposed ta mean?” The Banshee leaned back away from the rapidly fading image.
The woman smiled again. “Simply that I had never in my dreams imagined such as ye would walk beside my silly little Breeland orphan, would profess ya love her right out loud beneath the moon. I knew the strength in her…knew well the sheer gumption and bravery of my Finchley…but you and I both know what happens ta even the strong and the brave when they are strong and brave, and alone. I was alone…and for all my years and wisdom, I will yield... And then I will flee and hide like an old sparrow in a rotten oak. But it was not even in her nature as a babe to yield or to flee, her resistance to their corroding evil is why they awaited her birth….and may the Valar be praised, neither is she alone. I think she will do just fine…and those Unsealed bastards will come to rue the mistake they made.”
Xandilif smiled proudly. “Oh I bet they already do….she looks like she wouldn’t amount ta nothing but she is damned hard ta kill, and even harder ta keep down, my babygirl.”
Moyna stood a little straighter. “Nay….OUR babygirl then, if that be what she is. Ya came to me, looking back through the clouds of time, seeking a renewed hope. Perhaps ya gained it, but what ya did most, was give ME fresh hope instead and I am grateful to ya.. However this story ends, I know my course will be wisest for I know, casting her out into destiny, there will be those waitin’ to catch her. I see you…and those with you…and I know my girl will be loved and treasured…and have those ta help her to do what must be done despite how dark the days seem.”
“If I had the power ta, I would do anything…I would die for her…she knows that.” Xandilif nodded sternly as the image finally began to fade once and for all.
The woman touched the mirror on her side as the image went blank, only her voice lingered. “Don’t die for her. Live for her…live for her as I did till my long days went down to dust.”
---
The regal elven queen swept down into her garden, her guards fanning out. Whoever had snuck into her garden was now gone, and not too long ago either. They clearly had been an elf…and nothing seemed disturbed.
Galadriel walked up to her still gleaming mirror. The surface was smooth and pure as always, though perhaps a slight ripple remained. She frowned…and glanced down at the discarded liquor bottle. Her frown deepened as she shook her head in a mix of wonder and dismay, and sent her guards away. Whatever had transpired here, there did not appear to have been harm done…at least not yet.
