When Galadriel finally awoke, it was mid-afternoon. The sunlight coming through the windows in sharp lines tingled upon her skin. Her hand swept the bed and found no Celeborn, but a tray with some breakfast on. She nimbly pulled herself up and poured herself some water from the silver leaf adorned carafe on her bedside table. She smiled as she saw begonia flowers in her water, clearly her husband had been intuitive to her impending pain. Her head ached, her limbs felt heavy, and her stomach spun.

After finishing a few mouthfuls of berries, Galadriel gingerly arose and headed for the bath. A luxurious tub of glittering grey carven stone adorned with silver fittings, was immersed in a geothermal spring. To anyone not familiar with the way of elves, this would appear to be a bath befitting Galadriel's status; however, little would they know, that almost all elves had access to baths like this. Granted, not everyone had a private bath, but they were all equally opulent.

Galadriel swiftly removed her cotton nightgown. She gracefully descended the stone steps, while holding the silver handrail fashioned into vines. A sigh escaped her lips as she was enveloped by the warm pool. Lying her head back in the water, and fingering through her golden waves, her thoughts came back to you. Your faintly blue hued hair. Almost white, it looked touched by a whisper from an alluring body of crystalline water, the kind that frolics gently over sand and gives tones of greens and blues as the sun appears to make the water glitter. The kind of water you had to touch with your toes, and it would always be surprisingly warm. Apart from your hair, there were no discernible features that differed you from other elves. To men, dwarves and hobbits alike, you would automatically be regarded as elven. A true beauty, dark arched eyebrows with long dark lashes enveloping impossibly cyan eyes. Darting between green and blue, depending on your mood. Lips the colour of a red rose, which bore a striking contrast to your eyes. She knew, much like herself, you were a force desired among both elves and mortals.

Celeborn interrupted her thoughts and asked with a sly smile, if she desired company. Her eyes shimmering, she nodded. Their love is old and true. Mutual desire forged with mutual respect. As he came behind her and wrapped his arms around her, he planted a chaste kiss upon her neck. Galadriel involuntarily opened the access to her neck and relaxed into him.

"It is not often a vision disturbs you so, meleth-nin". Celeborn whispered into her ear. She hummed in agreement, and he continued "Is this because of how dear she was to you or does your mind calculate as mine, that grave danger is in the making?"

Galadriel turned round and looked directly into his azure eyes. "I do not know, meleth-nin; I suspect both. When the moon rises tonight, I will look upon the mirror again and see what I can glean."

They both sat in silence for a while absorbing the safe sanctum of their love until they spoke of memories of old. Laughing and reminiscing of times spent with you. Now completely resolute that you were indeed returning, they engaged in playful games of how other elves would react upon your return. They took great delight on imagining the look of horror in Thranduil's eyes if he saw you return, and they had no doubt you would verbally disarm him without a second thought. They spoke about the look of awe on young elleth's and ellon's who knew you only by legend. How they would beg you to sing for everyone in Lothlorien and you would deny, until Galadriel quietly took you to one side and would tell you stories that would make you laugh and scream tears of hilarity until you could no longer say no. Finally, they conspired how they would tell Mithrandir you were back. Galadriel would enter his mind, as soon they had determined details of your return. For them, the excitement of having you back, now overtook any trepidation of your return as a ominous sign.

At last, the light of the moon reflected on the water of the mirror. Galadriel poured the water from the silver jug, until very drop was transferred. She looked upon the mirror and saw only herself and frowned. Standing there, willing you to appear, she was suddenly winded, as if punched by an invisible force and was pulled face first into the water of the mirror. There she saw the blood moon, shining upon you. Blue hair stained red and black, bound and almost dead. On horseback you were held by Éomer, First Marshall of the Mark riding from Rohan. He rode to the boundary of Lothlorien, meeting the Marchwarden Haldir, shouting "She needs help, NOW! We rescued her from Easterlings who were trying bleed her!".

Galadriel screamed as she fell back from the mirror, only to be caught be the trusted Marchwarden.

"Hiril vuin, are you ok?"

"Yes, le fael Haldir. What are you doing here?"

Haldir explained he was on his way to meet with Celeborn for his nightly handover. Auspicious timing, Galadriel smiled to herself.

"When you have finished with Celeborn, come and find me, Marchwarden. I have something to discuss with you."

Haldir cocked his eyebrow, and bowed "As you wish, Hiril vuin."