(Following the events of "Lothlorien at Twilight - Part 3".)
As soon as she stepped out from under the archway leading out of Galadriel's garden she slumped against the hedged walls and pressed the back of her shaking hand to her forehead. However tightly reined in she had kept her emotions during her and Eduwiges' meeting with the Lady, she could not keep them in for much longer. She looked around and noticed that there was no guard to escort her back to her and her companions' living arrangements here. But, it was no matter; she could find her way there easily enough. And, it seemed, that, despite the current situation, she was allowed to walk freely beneath the golden-boughed mallorn trees of Caras Galadhon.
Her dark-garbed figure could be seen running off the path, booted feet making barely a noise and hardly disturbing the fallen, golden leaves littering the ground, heralding the first stirrings of autumn. She made her way over hills and large upturned, white roots until she came to the heart of the city where, in the late hours of the night, there were none save the guards and marchwardens situated in various places to keep watch over the House of Celeborn.
Calidis came at last to the edge of a pool of the clearest water flowing down from a swan fountain with yellow leaves drifting across the surface, making ripples with their movements.She collapsed upon a bench by the edge of the pool as crystaline tears began to pour unchecked from the bottomless well within her black gaze. It had been almost too much for her; what she saw within the Lady's mirror. Even now they played over and over in her mind, licking at wounds she had thought either healed or at least left behind like burning fire.
Her father saving the life of Addiela, taking darkness upon himself in her place; had such a thing truly happened, or was it a shadow of what could have been according to the mirror? If the former, would not have Addiela told her?
Even after all this time, his loss still pained her, just as the loss of everything she had ever known in the previous age still pained her.
And what of the two Xanderians she saw, joined together seemingly by the spirit of the very bow Xanderian carried with her for all this time? She remembered the sound of Lilta's voice and would recognize it anywhere. But what had it done with Xanderian? And the other Xanderian? She could make no real sense of this.
Was her lover not the same Xanderian she had always known? If not, then did that matter much in the face of her love and the danger they found themselves in? No, she decided. In the grand scheme of things, it didn't. So long as Xanderian was willing to have her, she would stay by her side. Perhaps even still if she was not willing.
Yet, here she was, weeping like a child, afraid to be heard, wiping at her tears and gulping down sobs and whimpers that threatened to escape her. If letting her look in the mirror was a way for the Lady of Light to weaken her defenses for some purpose - either warning her away from Xanderian or far worse - then she would not give the ever watchful servants and soldiers any reason so suspect that it was a success.
This only daughter of Aegrod would shed her tears and then continue on, for her work here was not done yet.
After a time she dried the last of her tears and looked up to the stars shining through the mallorn branches like tiny lamps in the sky, reflecting faintly within the dark well of her deep gaze. And, when she felt she could stand, she did so and began to make her way back toward her friends, heedless of the remaining tear tracks on her pale cheeks. This was no puzzle to be solved on her own and it certainly did not take precedence over the current matter at hand.
They had a fell spirit to contend with.
