Character: OC and Lady Galadriel
Rating: Warning for battle description
Source: Post – Last Alliance
Disclaimer: Tolkien found these places and stories, Kortirion found this character.
The eyes stared into his… glittering, black, shards of cold obsidian in a ravaged face… a momentary connection that drained his fea… It made him hesitate in the face of horror, the briefest pause wherein he saw… he saw…
He turned his head fractionally; the savage blade sliced his ear and face, cleaving his helm from his skull. Training and desperation made him spin the bloody glaive in his hands, the blade connected, slowed… obstructed by leather, metal... bone.
The snarling roar stuttered, black glass eyes froze. Momentarily, he saw a bloody mask reflected there, and knew it was himself.
Always the same dream…
He started from reverie with a cry, hastily smothered when curious eyes turned towards him. Concern, pity, suspicion, sympathy… a sea of emotions broke over him in their gaze. He cast his hood over his head, turning away, and, not knowing what to do, they let him.
His kindred escorted him through Fangorn, treated him kindly, but carefully, as if his fragility might shatter at a word. ‘The Lady saw you’, they explained when they found him.
Summoned, he bowed. In her polished obsidian bowl, Galadriel poured water to scry, and he saw… his face renewed.
“Sometimes the past is there, sometimes the future, or what may be possible,” she murmured. He stared into the blackness, before raising his eyes to hers; mingling there he saw all he’d shied from… but he did not refuse her gaze.
She reached out, touching his scarred cheek lightly.
“I know of what you seek. Tell him, it is on my mind also, but it is not in the South. He must look elsewhere.”
He hadn’t the courage to hold her eye.
“You sought the healers’ obsidians once… do so again. Those fleshly badges need not be worn in despair."