The Fellowship was led up the winding stairs into the high talan of the Lord and Lady. Moonlight spilled through the canopy, catching on the golden leaves until the whole city glowed with a silver-gold radiance. At the far end of the chamber stood Galadriel, tall and radiant, her hair gleaming as if woven with starlight and sunlight together. At her side was Celeborn, grave and noble, but it was Galadriel’s gaze that fell upon each traveler, piercing yet filled with ancient kindness.

Her voice, soft yet resonant, filled the space like music.

“Welcome, to Caras Galadhon, the heart of Lothlórien. Long has your road been, and heavy the burden you bear. Yet I see you come weary…”

Her bright eyes searched the Company, resting first on Strider, then upon the ring bearer, before glancing to the empty place where she had expected another. A shadow of sorrow touched her fair features.

“Tell me, where is Mithrandir? I had hoped to speak with him beneath these boughs. Has some dark fate hindered his path? Did your Company meet with peril in the deep places of the world?”