The Noldo stepped up the stone stairs. They were cold against her bare feet. She looked up. Golden leaves spread eternally, like lightning streams, along the sky. Under the canopy of white trees as tall as towers, she looked in front of her. Standing there, the Light of the Two Trees in her eyes, was a legend.
Despite herself, the black haired elf sunk to her knees in reverence, "Lady Galadriel."
The would be High Queen of the Noldor looked down with bright, star glittered eyes. In her elegance and strength, she motioned for her to rise, "Be at ease, child of the Noldor."
The subject of the Noldor arose, head still bowed in respect.
"As you are known to my people," Galadriel's eyes pierced her, "You are Gwathpenel. And to my people, you never once stepped foot into my forest, yet have always fought against the same threats we face. I called you here to thank you for your one thousand and four hundred years of such deeds, Gwathpenel."
Gwathpenel bowed her head even more, "I-I, it was nothing, Lady Galadriel."
She had only done it out of grief and rage.
Lady Galadriel's face was etched in wisdom. Her eyes twinkled in knowledge, "Yet, Gwathpenel is only the name you are known by here, Noldorin warrior. In Eregion, you were Golodhmiriel. Your parents named you Alasiel long ago, but with Quenya barred and fading, you changed to Aurthiel. Yet, in Lindon, another far more foul name was used to describe you as well."
Gwathpenel winced at the mention of that last one, one hand lifted and tugged at the nearly moss eaten scarf wrapped around her neck. She was so shocked to be here, speaking to the hiril every young elf maiden wanted to grow up to be, "Wh… I am honored to be here. Who am I to be summoned by you?"
Lady Galadriel turned, her white dress pure and divine under Lothlorien's canopies. Her glorious hair, desired by Feanor once upon a time, was flowing like a golden river. She spoke, bold with power and authority, yet gentle and soothing. "Follow me in the gardens, Gwathpenel."
Still hunkered, despite already being short of stature for an elf, Gwathpenel followed. As they walked along the gardens full of flowers, trees, and lightning bugs, Galadriel talked, "It does not take much to see you bear many wounds and scars, Gwathpenel. You were but a child once, then you have grown old and weary in Middle Earth. But I give you an opportunity to find a glimpse of knowledge in all the chaos in your life."
Gwathpenel looked up, shocked and wondering. Galadriel stepped aside, her dress trailing perfectly on the ground, as she picked up a jug of water. She poured the clean, pure water into a small yet wonderfully crafted fountain. She explained, "The nature of my Mirror is to see past, present, and future. Yet some of these future visions may not come to pass, while others will come true. That is the nature of my Mirror."
Gwathpenel was nearly floored. An opportunity to look into Lady Galadriel's famed Mirror! Her mouth gapped open as she slowly approached, footstep after footstep. "I…"
She paused next to the Mirror, looking over to Lady Galadriel, "What will I see?"
She blinked, head raised in dignity and strength, "I do not know. These are your visions, not mine."
With a shudder, Gwathpenel turned and gazed down into the waters. They reflected the starlight of the night as she bent down, staring into it. At first, she saw nothing, then…
… The first vision overtook her.
