Marta's Mathoms - BMEM 2011 by Marta

Things as May Yet Be - Part 2

Arwen stood beside the silver basin, peering down at it. "It looks so... ordinary," she said almost in a whisper. "Like what my mother used to wash my hair when I was a girl."

Galadriel smiled at her granddaughter, though the mention of Celebrían pained her as much now as it had at dinner. "It was designed to look unremarkable, to the uninitiated," she said. "My maid thought it odd when I sent for it, for she thought it one more possession gathering dust in the store-rooms." She stepped toward the basin so she stood beside Arwen. "But in truth it is no such thing. Fëanor crafted it in the furthest West, and Maedhros gave it to me  after our kin was reconciled."

"What is it?" Arwen asked.

"You might call it a mirror," she said. "Though such a name is not wholly accurate. A mirror shows only what is, but this device shows things that were, and things that are, and things that yet may be. It is not unlike the palantíri, in its way, for it can reflect our wishes, or the lies we want others to take as truth. But even that is too simple. It does not tell what we wish would be, but what might be. It reflects, perhaps, the pure potential of the world unfolding, and it presents it to us in whatever way our minds can best grasp it."

Arwen bent down, peering at the cold metal more closely. "What would you have me do?" she asked.

"I would not have you do anything," Galadriel said. "Not for my sake." She set the ewer she was carrying down on the pedestal's foot and laid her hand on Arwen's shoulder. "I cannot tell you how to act in this matter," she said. "Fëanor always thought the wisdom derived from it could be useful indeed. I have seen battles far-off and have sent aid in time; Gondor now owes her very being to just such foresight. But as for you, I do not dare advise you yay or nay. You must do what seems best to you."

Arwen pursed her lips together and stared down at the basin for a long moment. At last she said, "I will look, if you think it wise. But I will not swear to follow whatever path I see laid out here."

"That is good," Galadriel said. Picking up the ewer, she poured its water into the basin and spoke the ancient words that Fëanor had once taught her. For a long moment Galadriel saw nothing but the branches hanging overhead and the moon peeking through their leaves. But then the vision began to change. Those same trees yet stood, but now they were leafless, like the trees she had seen in mannish realms in the depths of winter.

Yet they were doubtless mallorn, and the hill in the background with its solitary flet was doubtless Cerin Amroth. Galadriel saw Arwen reach out and run her fingers along a naked branch. Was that Arwen? She had thought so, but this elf looked so old! The woman looked over her shoulder, and Galadriel recognized those eyes with a certainty. The vision of Arwen smiled wanly, looking about her; but no one was there. At the last she lay down upon the mound and then moved no more.

Arwen, the Arwen standing beside her, stumbled backward, nearly falling over a root. Galadriel reached out and steadied her, and she saw that Arwen's eyes had grown wide with fright. "What foul witchcraft is this?" Arwen asked. "Why have you brought me here?"

"I am not a witch," Galadriel said calmly. "As for its craft, I cannot speak to that more than I already have."

Arwen opened her mouth as if to speak, but then thought better of it. Instead, she reached over, knocking the basin off its pedestal so it fell to the ground. Galadriel let it be for the moment. It had survived the world's reshaping – twice – to say nothing of long centuries in ignoble storage; it would last a few minutes on the ground with little enough harm. "I felt my skin grow cold," Arwen said, her voice little more than a whisper. "I felt my heart slow and my breath ease out of me. I thought that I had died. That I had died all alone beneath the leafless trees." She blanched. "Elbereth above, I cannot stay here."

"Then you will return to Imladris?" Galadriel asked.

"Yes," Arwen said. Then she shook her head. "No. Oh, but I wish I knew what to do!"

"You might go somewhere else entirely," Galadriel said. "Go to Thranduil's folk, if you feel so driven. Go to Rhosgobel, even; you have never met Radagast, and he can be a merry friend."

"And what then?" Arwen asked. She breathed deeply, trying to calm her racing heart. More calmly, she repeated: "What then? Must I ever live on this side of the mountains? Lothlórien will always be my home, when distance keeps me away from Imladris. I will always be pulled back here."

Galadriel had expected that answer. "Then you should return to Elrond," she said. She realized that she was breaking her own promise not to advise, but the distraught look on Arwen's face compelled her. "The mountain passes have grown safer since Smaug was vanquished," she added. "And Celeborn will provide a retinue fit for a king's protection. He would go himself, if his duties allowed it."

"Yes," Arwen said, nodding to herself. "Yes. I will return home, as quickly as you can arrange it."