Thank you to JRR Tolkien for his sub-creation, and the Tolkien Estate for allowing us the joy of filling in some of the interesting open spaces of copyrighted material.

Thank you also to Alassiel for beta-reading for me.

Many heartfelt thanks to Nilmandra for making available to all a friendly, wholesome site for our tales.

Last, but not least, this tale is dedicated to Marnie who writes such lovely stories, and Lord Celeborn, her special favorite

SILVER AMONG THE GOLD

He moved soundlessly through the springtime woods, listening to the voices of the trees. Many welcomed him after his long absence, but one he heard not at all. With sinking heart he sought the call of the eldest of the mellyrn, the ancestor to them all, sung into being by a song of love and growing; a living gift from his golden Lady.

That the woods were dying he knew too well, but was powerless to succor them. His Lady had long ago abandoned them to their doom; he suffered now at their dying. For uncounted yeni time had been shut out from their realm, to rush in with a vengeance when the blended protection of Lady and Elven ring had been withdrawn.

Celeborn could almost taste his helpless frustration at the fading of his beloved trees; slow decay and delayed time taking them ruthlessly from him forever. Where once he had walked in bliss among these, his friends of countless years, he now listened to their weakened voices pleading for his healing and wept.

Approaching the home of the mighty mallorn, he reached out in thought to this unique memory of some of the happiest days of his long life. He could clearly hear her song and watched as the tiny tree sprouted from the rich soil, and unfurled three tiny leaves. Silver and green and terribly costly was the tender, new sapling, draining his golden wife of much strength.

 Living proof of my love for thee. With those words she gifted him beyond his wildest imaginings. Together they sang of growing and deep roots; tall and lovely, reaching up to the stars. Passing yeni only added to the magnificent grandeur of this a King among trees, young mellyrn scattered round about; a royal hall dwelling deep in the woods of Lothlorien. Many of his seedlings were transplanted to form their towering city in the air, Caras Galadhon. But often The Lord and his Lady would return to the sacred grove to sing and dance alone under the splendor of this wondrous tree.

Nearing the ancient tree’s domain should have brought the rich timbered voice to his eager ears, but the silence was complete. Breaking into a light-footed run, he shortly emerged into the glade; coming to a dead stop, eyes wide in disbelief. Golden leaves still clung to the branches with nowhere a single glimpse of green, though spring was well advanced. Stricken he approached, calling out grief-stricken to his old friend, sinking down in the lap of the great roots; loss of the aged tree no less to him than that of a child. Together at the begetting, separated by a dread sea-calling and across a vast expanse of ocean; bereft now of this familiar voice and comforting presence; a last lingering bond to his beloved, now emptied of life. His incomparable voice raised a haunting lament, mourning the passing of a friend.

Three days later Haldir found him sprawled at the feet of the great mallorn, golden leaves tangled in the silver flow of hair, pale face streaked with tears, as if the pair were united in death. Gently he knelt beside him, feeling for a pulse and finding life, tenderly lifted his Lord carrying him to the nearby pool of crystal waters. Revived by the cool liquid on his skin he slowly opened eyes wearied of life.

Pushing away, the silver lord came gracefully to his feet. Approaching the massive trunk he laid fond hands upon the smooth bark, laying his ear against the still solid form. From deep within came a final whispered message; of love and friendship, and departing, music to the lethally wounded Elven fëa.

The Silver Lord bowed his head, weeping, and released forever the cherished companion of happier days. Without a backward glance he turned away, melting into the spring morning, Haldir close behind.

Celeborn was far distant when after many years the echo of the great silver tree crashing to the ground reverberated through Lothlorien.

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