paradisalogs | (no subject)

Who: Galadriel and you
What: Nightmares
When: Now
Where: Galadriel's mind
Rating: PG-13. Battle scenes, mostly

Galadriel’s nightmare begins in a cacophony of sights and sounds, intermingling and fading into one another. The sounds of battle assault your ears: steel hitting steel, the snap of bowstrings, the screaming of dying of men. The smell of blood is in the air and you can feel the overwhelming heat of a blazing fire against your face.

As you stand observing, things begin to settle and you find yourself in the midst of a battle along a seaside, a sword in your hand. The landscape might have been beautiful- stunningly so, were it not for the bodies already littering the beach and the clashing of swords still surrounding you. If you have keen eyes, you might spot some familiar golden hair amid the chaos.

Do you seek her out? Do you flee towards the boats landed on the beach? Whatever choice you make, you should make it quickly; the Fëanorians won’t leave you alone forever.

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He shakes his head as he begins walking alongside her. "There is no need for defenses. Though I came into my own power near the end of our war, I still witnessed many times where the most terrible things were the result of good intentions. Sometimes, sometimes these things must happen. They are all apart of the pattern, the good with the bad. And the darker threads may make the goodness shine even the brighter."

She looks down at him, somewhat surprised, before managing a small smile. "A very dear friend told me much the same once, long ago, in a kingdom that now rests beneath the sea."

Will stops in surprise. "A land lost beneath the sea?"

"All of Beleriand was lost beneath the sea at the end of the First Age; Doriath fell before then, but the land the kingdom had rested on was destroyed with the rest." She glances over, noting the look on Will's face. "Why does this surprise you so?"

A look of great sadness comes over his face. "In my world there was once a place called the Lost Land. It is nearly forgotten now. Most men think of it as only something that once happened in a story. Ys, they name it. And the Lowland Hundred. But the people who lived there called it the Lost Land, because they always knew what their doom would be.

I was there, last year and long ago. And I watched the water come."

"Why did it come, if I may ask?" The reason for the sinking of Beleriand was plain- the war of the Valar against Morgoth.

"It is complicated and I do not entirely understand it myself. At one level, it fell beneath the waves, because that was it's doom. All the people of the Lost Land had always known this. But the hand and the thought that began the failure of the levees was the Dark's. As revenge and as punishment to the people of the Lost Land for the handing over of an item of power to its proper owner."

He glances away in grieved remembrance. "A petty and cruel revenge. To destroy an entire neutral country just for their loss. And yet it was all they could do. For once the sword Eirias touched Bran's hand, there was no power of the Dark that could remove it. It was his heritage."