Lothlorien in Twilight - Xanderian's Debate

Xanderian sat quietly in the silence of the high flet, staring out at the graceful trees of Lothlorien that surrounded her. It was a beautiful prison, but a prison none the less…at least for the moment. She was placed here for safe keeping as her companions, Calidis and Eduwiges, had gone to the Lady of Light to plead her case after being accused of being in league with her sister, Xandilif, and up to no good.

That Xandilif had slipped into Caras Galadhon with the fragment of the Mirror of Twilight and used its dark glamour, in combination with Galadriel’s own mirror, to speak to the witch Moyna in the past on Finch's behalf was perfectly plausible. In fact, that was Xandilif the Banshee all over. She had no respect for Galadriel, the Noldor or the folk of the Golden Wood…little fear of dark magic…and absolutely no limits when it came to what she viewed as Finchley’s best interests. What WAS open for debate was the charge that she had some deeper dark design, that her younger sister was also involved somehow or that she had caused some great harm to the serenity and security of this haven. Galadriel seemed quite certain of all of that…but then, the Lady of Light ALWAYS seemed quite certain…of everything.

As Xan looked out at the rising sun with trepidation, a voice whispered in her mind, a voice she had grown almost used to over the last few months. The voice was her own…and yet not her own. It was the voice of a darker, more wounded, more ruthless version of herself. “And so once again you have sent others of to fight your battles for you…and accept everything that bloodless pretender says to be simple fact. Do you not see she has her own agenda, as do all the “great and good” you seem to cherish? Do you not see she does not mean for your health, whatever she may say?”

Xanderian shook her head, dispelling the taunting voice for the moment...yet it raised more questions in her mind. What agenda WAS truly at work here? She had thought that her bitter feud with the Malledhrim and their commander, Fuirgam, had been changed by time to an uneasy peace. She would never be loved by the lords of Mirkwood or the Noldor of Lothlorien, but neither were they still at dagger points…or so she believed. She had even spoken civilly with Fuirgam the last time she had been in Ost Galadh, in the company of Cyndwin. Why are these wounds suddenly so deep again, seemingly bleeding anew?

What was this sensation that had bedeviled her since they entered the gates of Caras Galadhon? This tension..this frustratingly familiar anxiety. Why did she feel as if she may have walked unknowingly over her own grave…and why could she not shake the oppressive sensation that eyes were upon her. Her father’s eyes? Was it because he too had gazed into the Mirror of Twilight long ago...and ran mad from the sight?

More and more as she sat in quiet thought seemed  simply but subtly wrong. Calidis seemed too resentful, Eduwiges too angry, even for her. All seemed to be twisted, extreme reflections of what was, or had been. Was she trapped in a dream or nightmare? Was this the work of a foe unseen?

The dark voice spoke again. “Can you be sure of anything? Anything at all? The Noldor queen told you a tale, but who is to say that it is real, or that she herself is not part of the deception...or its victim? Her arrogance is ripe for such deviltry, for she thinks her precious ring and ancient lineage puts her beyond such games...she is wrong….in many futures that proves her demise.”

Xan nodded to herself. She could not believe that things were as they seemed to be….she could not accept that some dark force had been released unchecked into Lothlorien by Xandilif’s foolishness….unless the belief that such a thing could happen, the anger and fear regarding it, was itself the dark force.

The huntress whispered as she looked out into the leaves of the city, but wether she spoke her own words or those of the darker voice who could say. “Enough. This is like a child’s game, a distortion in a hall of mirrors…yes, just so...we are trapped between mirrors, but by who I know not. There is only one recourse….we break the mirror and face what lays beneath...the reality, whatever that reality may be.”