Looking back now at my life I find it strange. Strange that I was never curious of the outside world. Strange that I never felt the urge of making a difference, of proving myself. Strange that I never found in my heart the type of love that would give me children, and children of my children after, those I could see the future of this world into. Maybe because the world as I knew it has no future..
It took much will and patience, unconditioned devotion and love to make me even wonder. I still feel guilty I could not respond in kind to my dear and cherished friend. When you compare to common Westron it strikes you that both Sindarin synonyms for friend are related to words meaning love while in Westron they are not connected this way. Meldir/meldis[friend] to meld[dear] and mellon[friend] to melo-/melleth [love]. I tend to translate "meldir" it to "dear one" instead of friend sometimes. This feelings are so close -but then do I really know?- and yet so far..
Iseril was bold and adventurous. When he came to Lorien at his less than 300 years he had seen more of this world than I've seen even today. He knew of and cared for many of the wonders of it I am still discovering. He was to fight and die for this lust for knowledge and his never ending wandering. I had my stories and my songs. I had the music of the delicate springs with ever changing glittering under the moonlight. I could spin in dance steps forever there, under the light of stars, on the wet grass, in a never-ending night - one night like that of the beginnings the old stories sing about- and never wish for more. I was happy there, and the wood protected us of all evil. The wood and My Lady's power.She was so beautiful and powerful, her eyes so old and full of wisdom, her steps so light and her dreams so bold.
Iseril wandered back and forth outside our borders. He always brought wonders found in the strangest of places, relics of old, stones so shining, flowers so rare and delicate, songs so beautiful on what his eyes had seen. And those eyes waited an answer they never received.. I am sorry I did not understand how short life can be even to our kind. I should have changed his feelings towards me if unable to respond instead of hoping I will change, or at least I should have tried, because I know now one cannot command his heart. When the news he was killed by Orcs reached Lorien I was overwhelmed by guilt and sadness. I left to avenge him and to forget our long talks under the sky of Lorien. Maybe I left to find him, his passion for the world, in me. Maybe I left just to end my guilt in some battle as I had little idea how to fight.
But fate chose different. Instead of a useless death I found a more meaningful fight to devote to and maybe a higher use for me. I joined brave souls and discovered in wonder, with my own eyes, the Dwarfs, the Hobbits and the race of Men.
Truly they are Eru's most strange, most mysterious creation. A bunch of contradictions more fascinating than a bunch of the rarest flowers. Short lived but setting their eyes so high, weak but daring anything, little knowing but searchers of knowledge. When I see their fight I remember old words that our lady once said and now are reason of sorrow when remembered "our own realm to rule". And yet had our ancestors not leave the peace of Valinor would not their life be as meaningless as all my long years were? Happy but needed by noone. If we are bound to this world's fate is it not our purpose to discover it all, its whole bitterness as well as its sweetness? Are we only to guard our heavens and leave the rest to its fate?
So I dared think how I could change their world. To trade my kind of immortality for theirs. To stay in this new world, if we will manage to defeat this evil once more, instead of leaving it. To stay as a cherished adviser - for centuries, as a wise shadow of great leaders -for generations, to put my mark on their future and be remembered and blessed, the one making their civilization advance in centuries more than it would advance in millennia.. and then fade as limits can only be pushed forward but not broken. This instead of leaving to dance, forgotten, a mere drop of dew on someone else's world's flowers, one eternity more under another night's stars on another more shining green grass near a more wonderful spring in the heaven of our dreams?? A tempting deal to make with destiny especially if more than this pushed one counter of the balance... as I dared to dream even more.. but the ways of this world are not those I used to know and my old tales refused to repeat themselves. This time Beren did not call Luthien Tinuviel and no shining web of happiness and sorrow born to catch the dew of mornings.. not even for the short time a mortal life allows.
The world moves on its course and I am again just a drop of water in a river that flows carrying it, unnoticed and unimportant. Can that drop change the river otherwise than to the worse if poisoned enough? My mind tells me that this drop should accept its fate and merge with the music of the river under the stars, enjoy its travel on shining rocks, tasting the perfume of the air and joining finally the huge ocean. My heart tells me I have little hope to be again just a happy drop of water. Yet I left again to try to forget both sorrow and dreams. But one thing is certain. Old Dringo-ad-riel, Rythm-Maiden, that who had no other worry than a more beautiful song to flourish in her soul.. is no more. Who is that who replaced her I wonder?
