Aldamir had also been chosen as one of the guards, and he walked in the rear of the company. As they walked through the mallorns, he looked at each of the Fellowship in turn, studying them, as Elves do. There were two men; one dressed as ready for battle. A great shield with a silver center hung upon his back, and at his side Aldamir saw a long sword; well-crafted and battle-ready. He was proud, Aldamir could see, and his glance was stern. He seemed to be in wonder at his surroundings; he glanced from side to side, taking in the Golden Wood with a manner that seemed, to Aldamir, to be a bit suspicious. He does not seem comfortable here, thought Aldamir. Well, he is a man of war, and we are a people of peace.
Looking to the other Man, Aragorn, Aldamir recognized the blood of kings in him. Not obviously, though - it was as if he kept it hidden. Blood of kings... mused Aldamir. He is not so much a man of war as the other. He loves these woods - he has often been here. You can see it in his eyes. He is happy to be among us again. Aldamir knew that Aragorn had been raised by Elrond, and it made a lot of sense when he thought about it. Of course he would have been raised by an Elf - you can see it in him, though part of his nobleness comes from the king�s blood in him. But he knows the Elven language fluently, and he is at home here. . . no, it is not hard to see he has been among Elves much of his life.
Turning from Aragorn, Aldamir looked to the Elf. He was light haired like the Lorien Elves often were, and he was dressed in varying shades of green and grey. His clear eyes were looking about in wonder and delight at Lorien. He is content here, thought Aldamir. Here among people of his own kind, his heart is at rest. I wonder where he is from? Not Rivendell - his hair is light. Possibly Mirkwood...probably one of the Northern kingdoms.
Aldamir glanced over the dwarf, but he had no great wish to muse over him after last night�s insult. Instead he looked to the Halflings, these small creatures who had come so far.
One of them walked directly behind Frodo, and from the way he looked after Frodo, Aldamir guessed that they were very close friends. He was a sturdy, simple fellow, but Aldamir sensed a great courage and loyalty deep in him; a deep devotion for Frodo. His courage may be slow to come forward, maybe, but once awoken, it will be great indeed. It is well to have such a friend - I am glad that Frodo does.
The other two Halflings also seemed to be close friends. Not so serious as Frodo, they would occasionally laugh softly. They walked together and spoke intermittently in low voices. Frequently they would glance at the towering mallorns, also at the Elves themselves, and Aldamir smiled to himself. I�ll wager they�ve never seen anything like the Golden Wood, nor those who dwell in it. They cannot have traveled very much, either - I wonder where exactly they dwell. It must be a peaceful, simple land.
His musings ended as they climbed a path winding up a particularly steep hill. Now for something of which they have never seen the like! he smiled to himself.
As they came to the hill�s summit, the column stopped. Beneath them, the forest dropped away gracefully, stretching like a great leafy sea for miles. Rising from its center was a tall, cone-shaped hill, crowned with what seemed to be hundreds of magnificent mallorns. The mallorns reached high above the forest - they were, it had been said, the tallest mallorns east of the Sea. Bathed in the golden light of the sinking sun, the forest was indeed a Golden Wood.
Aldamir, though he had seen the sight before, was lost in the stunning beauty of it. The Fellowship were struck dumb, marveling at the sight - not one of them moved or said anything, too caught up in the wonder of it.
�Caras Galadhon!� said Haldir, his eyes glowing. �Realm of the Lord Celeborn, and of Galadriel, Lady of Light!�