Perhaps the best of tales are the ones that might have been.
The ones that delve into the depths of lore and grasp something unexpected, something that should've remained hidden for all time.
Perhaps the tales left unexplored are the ones that need...
Rîniel stirred slowly and opened her eyes. Everything was blurry and confusing. She had no idea where she was. She lay still for a moment, trying to process her dreams and remember where she was. She realized that she was lying on a bed in a large room, dimly lit by torches and candles on the walls. She could faintly see the door with a mahogany sheen to it over in a corner of the room. There were three other beds in the room as well. Where in Arda am I? She mused.
Suddenly everything came rushing back to her mind. The run through the forest...the injured ellon...he died...the green gate...Legolas Thranduillion...I fainted...Legolas Thranduillion?
She immediately sat up and reached for her cloak. She stole out of bed softly, because she now realized that it was night, and all were asleep. Except for me, she grumbled inwardly. She recognized the tussled head and sleepy eyes of Dúlinneth in the bed closest to the door. As she silently passed out the door, she found that they were sharing a suite with other elves from Lothlorien. She tiptoed through the corridor connecting the other rooms into one, large common area. She peeked in several different doors, because she was naturally curious as to the exact make-up of the place she had awoken in. One room obviously was for the minor servants, and another for Galadriel and Celeborn themselves. A soft blue light like the twilight lit it. Rîniel continued on her way hastily, because she had no desire to draw any attention to herself. She did not feel like talking about her dreams or grief at the moment.
Rîniel always awoke in the middle of the night to think. She guessed it came along with being blessed as the Daughter of Remembrance. She constantly needed time to be alone and process all that haunted her. She grew exhausted when she tried to shove it away and not think about it. Usually, elves did not need much sleep, but she seemed to sleep more because of the strong visions that attacked her night and day. She sighed softly as she tightened her cloak around her slight shoulders. If only she had someone to share the memories with. But that could never be. It required a deeper connection through faer to bring her comfort, not just a conversation or storytelling. But giving any being a memory would cause them much confusion and pain that they would have to carry for the rest of their lives. It would be a horrible deed.
That night she had dreamt about death again. It seemed to be the most common dream. It was so dark and mysterious. It seemed so real, because of the way living night and deep dream took ahold of her mind. Not that she feared death. Only that...death took what was life and energy and goodness and made it apart of a sad song, yet another memory adding to the growing sighs of the Halls of Mandos. She shivered. Death could not take anyone close to her any time soon. She would make sure of it.
Her contemplative face brightened with awe when she gently opened the door into the main palace halls. It was so large. Pathways and bridges could be seen everywhere you looked, all the way up into the cavernous roof. She timidly slid her fingers along the wall as she walked. It was quite smooth, but mottled with bumps and tiny growths. Rîniel's fingers tingled from the energy she could feel radiating out of the walls. Does this place ever rest? But even as she looked up again at all the tall pillars and waterfalls cascading down into the river below, she shook her head slightly with disappointment. She did not like it here. It was too dark and mysterious. And flamboyant. She much preferred the open air living style of her people; Simple and calm and light.
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