The Prince's Visions

Chapter thirty two

"Like a lily among thorns is my darling among the young women." -Song of Solomon 2:2

___________

Eilonwy

"You were able to bring a wilted flower back to life, yes?" Galadriel says to me quietly as she paces slowly around the library. Her light purple dress flows behind her ethereally, and the soft sunlight shining through the window brushes her figure beautifully.

"Yes, my lady," I reply, feeling slightly uncomfortable as Lord Elrond and Aragorn glance at each other seriously.

Galadriel stops next to the couch I am sitting on, and she sits down beside me gracefully, light glinting off her intricately designed circlet. Her piercing gaze meets mine. "Elrond has an idea on what powers you might possess, but we will not fully understand until your power is demonstrated." She looks to Elrond to explain.

His elbows are rested on the arms of his chair as he steeples his fingers in front of him in thought. His eyebrows are furrowed, and he wears a serious expression that seems to almost always adorn his facial features. His brown hair frames his face with two small braids hanging down on either side. "Well, a flower is a very small life form," he begins and meets my gaze, "But you were able to bring it back to life, nonetheless. I believe that when your powers reach their full potential, you might be able to bring back those who have fallen."

My throat tightens and my eyes widen at his words. It takes me a moment to speak due to surprise and worry at this new idea. "You... believe I will be able to bring the dead back to life?"

He nods solemnly. "I believe so. I understand that the idea sounds slightly far fetched, but magic comes in all forms and strengths. What I do know is that whatever power is inside of you was enough to attract the attention of Sauron when you were just a baby. He surely would not have fought so hard to get you if you merely had a small spark of magic," he says, his deep voice sounding natural speaking of such serious, important affairs.

"But death is only natural," I tell him as I shift to sit forward, "Who am I to judge whether someone should live or die?"

"I do not have all of the answers, Eilonwy," he replies patiently, placing his fist under his chin and crossing his left leg over his right, "But you were given this magic by Eru Ilúvatar. I believe that if the time ever comes for you to save a soul that has been taken too early, you will know in your heart whether it is right or wrong to bring them back. Eru did not give this power to me nor anyone else. Surely He gave it to you because He knows that you are the only one in all of Middle Earth who will know how to use such power correctly."

"No pressure," I mumble under my breath, playing with the material of my silky white dress, and Galadriel places her hand on my shoulder in comfort. Her laugh tinkles around the room like chiming bells, making the room seem even brighter and more open.

"Having responsibilities is never easy," she says as I meet her soft gaze, "But you would not have been given such abilities if you were not strong enough to handle them."

I look down at my hands, which are laying in my lap, and I open my palms to stare at them, extending my long and slender fingers as if expecting some sort of ball of magic to form.

Honestly, I am afraid. I wish that no one had to die. I know how it feels to pass away, to hurt those that you love by leaving them. How will I know who to save and who to let die? Everyone wants their loved ones to live. Death has to happen. It is a natural occurrence.

Lord Elrond slowly stands from his chair and glides effortlessly and noiselessly over to a random bookshelf. He slides out a book from the dozens on the shelf, and he brings it over to me, laying it gently in my open hands.