Chapter 1: Her Desires

A thousand years later, in the forest, Miriel grew into a beautiful elf-maiden. Her long dark-blond hair fell down around her waist in silky curls. With her uncles by her side, she learned the ways to becoming a Guardian for the Lothlórien Forest. During one of these days, she had her sword drawn, swinging it around as she stared at her opponent.

Her opponent was probably the most beautiful elf-maiden in the land with her long, black hair hanging down around her slender waist. Unlike Miriel's light colored guardian uniform as they all wore, the elf-maiden's clothes were darker. Around her neck hung a beautiful, white jewel that shined in the sunlight just right as she spun around to block one of Miriel's attacks.

Miriel smirked as she blocked the blow aimed for her middle. The maiden swung at her again when Miriel jumped out of the way, grabbing the maiden by the hand she twisted it behind her back. The maiden ran up the nearest rock, jumping over her head. She grabbed Miriel around her neck, but Miriel elbowed her side and forced her to release her. The two held their swords at each other, smiles gracing their features. "Cin na hurl nin hi anand, híril Miriel," she commented. Miriel sheathed her sword. (You have fought better since our first meeting, Lady Miriel.)

"Im ephola- mín vedui govannon-, híril Arwen," she replied. (I remember our last meeting, Lady Arwen.)

Arwen smiled as the two of them walked through the forest together. Arwen and Miriel wrapped their arms around each other's waists as they enjoyed the soft, summer breeze brushing against their warm skin from their duel. "Manen na- Rivendell? Treneri- nin pân," she insisted. (How is Rivendell? Tell me everything.) Arwen chuckled at the younger elf's excitement. "Ceri- ú- gladh, nin híril, im nlui iest na pân nia i ambar im tur- ú- tíra-," she insisted. (Do not laugh, my lady, I only wish to know about the world I cannot see.)
Arwen smiled at the younger elf's excitement. The sound of the grass and twigs crunched under their feet as they made their way along a path. "Pân na-eithel di Rivendell…" she started to tell Miriel. (All is well in Rivendell.)

Miriel smiled as she listened to her friend tell her what was going on back in Rivendell. Oh how she desired to see the world that was not only Lothlórien, to not be only a guardian to their borders. She could not help but feel jealous of the Elven Princess beside her who has seen much of this world in her two thousand years. Arwen's beauty and grace, she heard so much about, but to be in her presence and walking with her…it was almost dreamlike. It wasn't even just being in her presence, but for her to actually call Miriel a friend was an honor that she could never fathom. "Ennas ar ihoss –o Dúnedain nev Lothlórien," Miriel commented. (There are whispers of a Dúnedain near Lothlórien.) Arwen smiled brightly and Miriel just smiled with her. "Cin gar- tíra hin," Miriel stated. (You have seen him.)

"Athon," she replied. (Yes.)

They put their swords away. "Hon est- na- Estle. Ho guin- di in nin adar's car an io," Arwen replied. (His name is Estle. He lived in my father's house long ago.)

"A hi?" Miriel asked. (And now?)
"Ho na a bachor," Arwen replied. (He is a traveler.)

Miriel saw a shine in the Elven Princess's eye. "Cin mel hi adan plural edain," she stated. (You love this man.) Arwen looked over at her, her eyes shining as bright as the Evenstar pendant around her neck.

"Di pant nin emel," she replied. (With all my heart.)

Miriel followed Arwen down the stairs, heading back towards their home. She could not help but be curious. She had never experienced love herself in her short life, and her mother was not much of a person to discuss the idea of love. It was as though her mother was trying to deter her from the idea of love. "Man na- ha sui?" she asked. (What is it like?) Arwen stopped and looked at her again with curious written on her fair face. "Na dant- di mel?" Miriel asked. (To fall in love?)

The two elves walked side by side to each other. "Im mind i Lothlórien tiri- aw baw anír mel?" she asked. (I thought the Lothlórien guard had no desire to love?)

Miriel shrugged her shoulders, the leaves crunching under their feet as they made their way up the stairs now. The sun was beginning to set, the colors to the sky became majestic with their oranges and pinks. Miriel stopped and looked out over the view. Arwen stood beside her friend, both of them staring at the beauty that was Lothlórien. "Im anír an," she admitted. (I desire more.)

Arwen reached up, resting her hand on her shoulder. Miriel looked at her, giving her a small, sad smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. Her mother would never allow her to venture further than Lothlórien's borders. "Im ceri- ú- nifred gurth. Im nifred i im innas n- dorth di fuin," she explained to Arwen. (I do not fear death. I fear that I will stay in darkness.)

"I innas ú- n- cín amarth," Arwen reassured her. (That will not be your fate.)

Miriel glanced at Arwen. How was this princess so sure that she would not forever be only a guard? The Rivendell Princess gave her a soft smile. Arwen gave her shoulder a squeeze. "Tul," she insisted. (Come.) Miriel glanced back at the view she was looking towards only moments before to see that night had come. Turning slowly on her heel, she followed Arwen.

The next evening, Miriel was practicing her dagger skills. She swung them around gracefully, not even a whisper of sound from the blades cutting through the air. She had her eyes closed, listening to everything around her. Haldir had taught her how important it was to be in tune with everything around her. She could not miss a beat, it would mean immediate death.

She suddenly sensed someone was near, she breathed in and it was a sweet smell. She swung around with her daggers raised, opening her eyes she saw the Lady Galadriel standing there. Immediately, she sheathed her daggers, dropping to a knee before her. "Nin híril, Galadriel," she greeted. (My lady, Galadriel.) She kept her head lowered. "Díhen- nin," she added. (Forgive me.)

Galadriel had the young elf stand up. "Ú-moe edaved, Miriel," she assured her. (There is nothing to forgive, Miriel.) Miriel stood up from the ground, clasping her hands in front of her.

"Im a-húrin na bui-, nin híril," she stated stoically. (I am ready to serve, my lady.)

Galadriel smiled gently at her, it made the young elf feel more at ease around her. "Man. Im gar-a thavan an cin," she stated. (Good. I have a post for you.) Miriel was listening intently to what position she would be sent to with the guard. "Cin innas tul-di nin na Rivendell. Im gar-nall-an," Galadriel informed her. (You will come with me to Rivendell. I have been called for.) Miriel was surprised by her instructions.

"Nin, nin híril?" she asked. (Me, my lady?)

Galadriel raised a perfectly blond brow at her curiously. Her hands were clapsed in front of her and Miriel could see the ring on her lady's hand. The ring that she had heard so many stories about. "Ceri-cin ú-iest na tul-?" she asked. (Do you not wish to come?)

Miriel's heart sped up at the idea that she was denying her lady a request. "Baw, baw, nin híril. –O iór im innas tul-," she replied. (No, no, my lady. Of course I will come.) Galadriel gave her a gentle smile.

"Man," Galadriel stated as she turned to walk away, "Mín gwann-na minuial." (Good, we leave at dawn.)

Miriel bowed her head deeply as Galadriel walked away and a smile appeared on her face. She knew how this happened. "Hannon le, Arwen," she whispered. (Thank you, Arwen.)