"Who is there?"she called,frightened though she knew not why
"Do you wish for freedom Lalaithwen?"the voice was soft,sweet as warm honey but sticky also,seeking only to snare her in it�s web of lies and unfullfilled desires.
"Nay!You are no more than whispers in the night!Long have you visited me,once I heeded you and was weak,no longer.I will give no heed to your poisoned words and false promises that seek only to prey on foolish hopes that can never be more than dreams!"she spoke defiantly as she often did,the darkness always seeming to swallow her empty words,sucking them into a void from which there was no escape,and only speaking the more cruelly.
"You cannot defeat me with fire Lalaithwen,fire can be extinguished or burn out but there is always darkness�.and it will have victory "
"Not over me,never over me!You may blow all you like false wind,this flame will endure!"she knew not what she said,wishing only to defy the voice.Then,as it spoke again,she knew it�.long had she searched for the face behind the voice,she knew it and yet it eluded her and faceless voices of shadow could not be defeated.But now!Now,she knew the face and she felt triumphant,now the voice had a face,a body and bodies could be destroyed�.there was no use fighting with shadow and emptiness there was too much of it,far too much..but a body�she could fight a body.And she would fight it,now she knew where to aim she had only to find the right weapon.Yet she grieved a little for the voice had belonged to one close ot her,indeed she had always known it ,had she but looked�for the deceitful voice was that of her step-sister.Elenglinel
The next morning Lalaithwen awakened early,full of a determination and sense of purpose she had not had for a long time.Barely stopping to tame her halo of golden hair,she siezed her weapon and strode gracefully but determinedly to search for her father.Reaching to her belt,she withdrew her knife from it�s simple sheath,it was a beautiful thing,as was everything made by the Eldar�pearl handled with a long white blade elegant,beautiful but deadly also,like a hunting cat, indeed very like Lalaithwen herself.She smiled as her long fingers closed about it�s hilt and she laughed as she withdrew it with a soft whisper and halted to gaze at it.The sound of true,genuine laughter was now rare indeed in Lothlorien and at the sound the shadow seemed to lift a little,the gold of the trees seemed bright once more and Galadriel looked up in surprise from her mirror.Lalaithwen loved her knife dearly,she had had it always,from the time when she was found by Hitharlin and his group.A little of the light of the two trees of valinor (that resided now only in the lost Silmarils and in the Sun and Moon that they loved),was caught in it�s glowing blade.Of course Lalaithwen had no idea of this,she knew only that it was hers,the one link to her true history and that she loved it;she had not carried it for many a year now,not since the day in the woods with Haldir.It reminded her always of freedom,unattainable and seemed to strengthen the passionate desire of her heart,and with her unspoken vow of duty she discarded it as too strong a temptation.Now however it strengthened her resolve and sheathing it once more she strode on,keeping a hand clasped tightly around it�s cool hilt.
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