Disclaimer: Most of the places, characters, events, etc. mentioned in this fic belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Authoress' Note: I've only read the first book and watched the movies, so I don't know all the details of the ending. My fic is set right after the second movie – basically it's my own version of what's going to happen next. I'm going to be making up a lot of things such as events, characters, Elvish words and traits, etc. so if I get something totally incorrect, please tell me!


Galadriel, Lady of the Light, gracefully seated herself in the plush armchair. She opened the book she had been holding to the first page and began reading, her eyes skimming the words quickly.

In truth, Galadriel did not even need to look at the volume, for she knew every word of it already. It was Elrond's account of that fateful day when the Ring and its Dark Master had parted. Like Isildur, he had put his observations on paper. Yet the two versions differed greatly, for Elrond had given up hope on men while Isildur had fallen under the Ring's spell.

She turned to the last page of the book, which featured a map of Middle-earth, and noted all the cities inhabited by many different races - Men in Gondor, Hobbits in the Shire, Elves in Rivendell.

They will all fall, she thought to herself. One by one, if Frodo does not destroy the Ruling Ring. She recalled her words to Elrond, about how the Ring had come close to achieving its goal. If Faramir had gotten hold of it...

Elrond, you say we cannot trust the hearts of men, thought Galadriel. But then, who do we have left to trust?

Galadriel closed her eyes and slipped into a trance-like state. Images flashed in her head - Frodo standing alone with the Ring in his palm, Legolas slumped on the ground with an arrow in his back, Aragorn weeping over Arwen's body...

And then...

Galadriel opened her eyes and smiled. A mysterious and knowing smile. She looked down at the map in the book and covered the word 'Middle' so that only the word 'earth' was left.

"Then you must trust the hearts of women," she said softly.


Galadriel descended the stairs lightly. She glided over to a small pool of water and dipped a tall jug into it. Holding the jug poised in front of her, she approached a large basin in the centre of the clearing. She poured the water into the basin, and set the jug on the ground.

She gazed calmly down into the Mirror. One could not predict what would appear - the past, the present, or the future - but Galadriel saw what she had hoped, and expected to see.

A pretty girl, looking sadly to her left at some unknown object. Another girl, younger than the first, talking animatedly, though she could not be heard.

Galadriel smiled gently.

Arwen, you are right, she thought. There is always hope.

"Ettul celeb wilwarin," she whispered. ('Come out silver butterfly')

Galadriel cupped her hands and suddenly, a bright light appeared in them. The glow lit up her face, making her look even more otherworldly and beautiful than she usually did. After a few seconds, the light began shrinking. It seemed to be condensing, becoming more solid. It continued to get smaller and started to take a definite shape, until all that was left was a silver butterfly, as intangible and radiant as the light it had originated from.

The butterfly flapped its wings slowly, as though testing them after a long period of disuse. It fluttered off Galadriel's hands and did a circle around her head, almost as if it was enjoying being able to fly again. It then purposefully dived down to the surface of the water in the basin.

As the butterfly touched the water it appeared to just melt away. In a matter of seconds, it was gone entirely. The water turned silver in the spot where the butterfly had disappeared. The colour spread, throwing off dazzling beams of light in the process.

As Galadriel watched patiently, the silver-tinted water swirled in the basin, gently giving off light. Eventually it slowed down until only a small whirlwind was present in the middle. The silver drained into the vanishing centre, until abruptly, the water was still once more.

"Ambarta..." Galadriel whispered, in a voice like the wind. "Maranwe..."

She placed a hand on her heart and gazed down into the mirror.


('Fate...', 'Destiny...', 'Love...')


Authoress' Note: Well, there are a few things I need to clear up. I'm calling it the Ring with a capital R. I'm not totally sure if all the Elvish is correct. The butterfly is based on the one in the Terry Pratchett book, 'Interesting Times'. Anyway, what did you think? I can picture this scene in the movie - it would look so cool :) Review to tell me your opinion about it!