Chained Dancer

When did my hands become so calloused? Fingers were raised into vision and blotted out the pale moon that hovered in the dark velvet of the night. Absolute dark, and ivory fingers reaching across the endless expanse, searching, but never finding.
When did these fingers bear so much sorrow? A single band glimmered on one of her fingers, a single band that held her here riveted with questions. Invisibly the one thing that was her power was her demise. As if pained, the Lady curled her fingers into a balled fist, blotting out the moon from her vision.
When did my heart lose its joy? Indeed, when did the Lady of the Golden Wood feel the weight of the world as acutely as she did now? Perhaps the Ring had been gifted to her, but it was not a gift that she regretted, nor joyed, in taking. It balanced between her hate and her love.
The Woods are silent, and the sky is darkening... Again, her fingers spread across the night sky, blue eyes wistful at the stars. With a cry, she removed the Ring on her finger and dropped it into a pocket of her dress. Lightly, wishing for the years long past to return, Galadriel danced under the sky. Blonde wisps of hair trtailing her lithe body in the groundbound dance meant for the dark skies. So serious was the Lady's face as she spun, barefeet on the green grass.
Would I to dance...She whirled faster, the hovering circlet in her vision at all times. The Ring, her Ring.
Would I to dance...unchained.