The Shadow Walker

52. Finally Understanding...?

I slept through the entire afternoon, which naturally meant that I woke up at sundown and couldn't go back to sleep.

Cellinneth brought me some supper—more lettuce, but with chunks of egg and meat, mercifully—and when she changed my bandages, I experimentally wiggled my fingers on my right hand. My whole arm throbbed like the dickens, but I was regaining some limited mobility. So, after much arguing and pleading with my mother-hen nurse, I convinced her to bandage my shoulder and leave my arm in a simple sling so that I could move it around a bit.

That didn't keep me from being stir-crazy.

I paced the length and width of the flet until my ribs burned and I could barely breathe. Guilt over Haldir and Rùmil, and the revelations about Legolas, chewed at my mind. My heart rattled its cage, begging to be released.

I refused.

A couple hours after dark, I determined to go for a walk. Maybe cause some innocent trouble, if the opportunity arose and I felt the urge. Anything but staring at four walls that did nothing but stare back.

I walked across the room and opened the wardrobe, scowling at the two dresses within and wishing I could have my old set of black clothes. They were probably damaged beyond repair. I sighed. Even if I had them, getting them on would probably be a painful chore.

My gaze rested on a new item—lacy and white. I huffed. Couldn't I wear anything a little less gossamer here? But, I should know by now that economical and convenient weren't in the Official Lothlòrien Vocabulary.

Neither were a number of other words and phrases running through my head at the moment.

I pulled out the gauzy garment for examination. It was an evening robe, meant to be worn over a nightgown for modesty. Perfect. Well...not quite perfect. But plenty close enough. I'd learned early in life—beggars can't be choosers.

I let my arm out of its loop sling, biting my lip against the inevitable pain to come. Then I carefully pulled the sleeve up over my arm and awkwardly wrangled the robe on. After returning my arm to its sling, I stuffed my feet into my awful shoes and slipped into the night.

I walked the twisting paths of Lothlòrien aimlessly, just grateful to be out of my room. At night, the mallorn trees glowed with an ethereal silver light, keeping the dark of night in the distance at bay. And, I admit, I kept no track of the direction I wandered or the order of scenery that would guide me back to my .

At length, I stopped and glanced over my shoulder. I might as well have been transported into another dimension, I was so thoroughly lost. And there weren't any Elves wandering around at this hour, either. I sighed and shook my head at myself. The messes I get myself into.

"Nothing looks the same in hindsight, does it?"

I startled at the proximity of Galadriel's voice. My heel caught a root, and I stumbled backwards. Galadriel jumped forward, grabbing my left arm and right side, preventing me from falling. I cringed at her sudden nearness, but she calmly waited until I had regained my balance. Then she straightened and backed a step, catching my gaze. She didn't say anything, though, just looked at me.

I shifted my weight uncomfortably, breaking eye contact. "I guess you're wondering why I'm out this late."

Galadriel smiled, and her sudden beauty, paired with her elegance, was almost breathtaking. "No," she replied. "I have listened to your thoughts ever since you awoke from your rest."

I sighed. This mind-reading thing was getting melodramatic, fast.

Galadriel chuckled. "I assure you, with time it grows quite dull. My people are quite used to it." She gestured to the path before us. "Shall we walk?"