𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐬 ➵︎ [ 𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘧 ]

12| a leaf in a river

I was at a loss for words. My mind was stuttering, desperately trying to make sense of things as I stood there motionless.

My bloodline. The bearer of one of the four rings of power?

Not the great realm of Mirkwood, nor one of the Istari, not even Celeborn, Prince of Doriath.

Maladros. My ancestors. Then...me. The thought of myself bearing an elven ring of power both intrigued and disgusted me.

I am in no way worthy of such a gift, I thought.

How could I be? My ancestors were strong and powerful, holding themselves with pride and royalty, for they were the foundations of the kingdom. I, on the other hand, was the weak link, the chink in the armour, the reason for my father's death and my kingdom's downfall.

I would never be worthy; always undeserving of the crown that came with my parentage.

I felt Galadriel's presence in my mind peering at my thoughts, before she spoke in response, her voice like a river, flowing, but powerful.

"If ever there was a time to embrace who you are, it is now." Her strong gaze seemed to intensify. "The Fellowship stands upon the brink of failure. Sauron will succeed if but a little more goes according to his desire."

She circled the pedestal, standing on the other side, directly opposite me, her presence like a star in the night. Her eyes held a pearl of inexplicable wisdom.

"He sees much, but not all, for, throughout the ages, even the mere existence of Amarya has been concealed from his view."

I stepped back from the ring, shying away from its power.

"Surely, there are bearers more fitting than I."

"On the contrary, no one is worthy but you," the Lady of Lorien responded, "It is your birthright."

I shook my head, looking down.

"I lost my right."

Galadriel smiled a sad smile.

"I would not ask any other. Do not let the past define who you were born to be. Only you can wield this power."

I could feel the turmoil churning within me.

"I do not want it. I never have."

Galadriel tilted her head slightly.

"You are the last of your bloodline." Lady Galadriel's voice was unwavering. " There is no one else. Take the Ring, Glaurielle. It is rightfully yours."

After a moment of silence, I gingerly stepped forwards, and hesitantly, my fingers grazed the cool gold, for I could not contest the will of Galadriel. I could not pretend to understand why she wanted the ring within my hands. She had been granted with the gift of foresight, and only Valar knows what she had seen in me.

I reluctantly took the ring in my palm. Galadriel's eyes never strayed from mine, her ocean blue eyes seeming to pierce deep within my soul.

"For you see, you are impervious to the power of this ring, unaffected by the desire that should take hold of the hearts of any other."

I furrowed my brow as I held the ring.

"The blood of Maladros flows through your veins. And thus, you are Amarya's most suited bearer."

-

As I walked back down to where the Fellowship rested, I contemplated the Lady's words over and over again, and how the ring had come into my hands. I did not deserve to wear it upon my finger as my forefathers had, so it hung from a mithril chain around my neck inside my new tunic that I had changed into. I felt the cool metal against the skin of my chest as I navigated back to where the Fellowship laid to rest.