Galadriel's Time Off
Galadriel stretched her long, graceful limbs, and lay down on her bed in the room she shared with Penelope. She had spent about a month in the Hogwarts library, reading. Using Nenya to extend the moments into days, and the days into weeks, Galadriel read the entire library.
Literally.
Nenya, the last of the three Elven rings of power, had made her studies timeless. She did not get hungry, and she did not need sleep. She simply existed in a time that was other. Not-time. She had worked in her own reading room, so that she was not in the way of any of the other students.
And she had read everything.
She had learned much.
First of all, this was the same world she had existed in, ages and ages ago. The land had changed, the beasts had changed, and mankind had changed. The elves were long departed, the dwarves long asleep. New races had sprung up over time, elder races changed into something altogether different that what they once were - goblins, for example, were no longer evil marauders, but some of the best guardians of precious items in the magical and financial world.
But the longest history she had found, though it hearkened back several thousands of years, still did not reach back to the Third Age of Middle Earth, let alone the War of the Ring and the return of the king to Numenor and the beginning of the Fourth Age. They did, however, begin to touch the end of the Numenorian Age, in the person and history of Merlinus Ambrosius, and the rise and fall of the Pendragon.
In her reading, Galadriel had learned much of the current magic of this world - but in knowledge only, she had not yet practiced any of it. She felt, though, that she had much to offer in knowledge of the history of her own ages of the world.
She had much to think about. She also needed a good bout of exercise to bring her back into the land of the living. She sat down with a roll of parchment, ink, and a quill, to compose a message. When done writing, she called Beruthiel, her lioness, to her.
“Take this to the warrior, meleth nin. Then you may go to the forest to hunt. Mind, Beruthiel,” she called, as the huge white lioness began to turn away to her errand, “be careful of what you eat.”
The lioness growled assent, took the proffered parchment roll in her mouth, and left Galadriel to compose herself to sleep.
Literally.
Nenya, the last of the three Elven rings of power, had made her studies timeless. She did not get hungry, and she did not need sleep. She simply existed in a time that was other. Not-time. She had worked in her own reading room, so that she was not in the way of any of the other students.
And she had read everything.
She had learned much.
First of all, this was the same world she had existed in, ages and ages ago. The land had changed, the beasts had changed, and mankind had changed. The elves were long departed, the dwarves long asleep. New races had sprung up over time, elder races changed into something altogether different that what they once were - goblins, for example, were no longer evil marauders, but some of the best guardians of precious items in the magical and financial world.
But the longest history she had found, though it hearkened back several thousands of years, still did not reach back to the Third Age of Middle Earth, let alone the War of the Ring and the return of the king to Numenor and the beginning of the Fourth Age. They did, however, begin to touch the end of the Numenorian Age, in the person and history of Merlinus Ambrosius, and the rise and fall of the Pendragon.
In her reading, Galadriel had learned much of the current magic of this world - but in knowledge only, she had not yet practiced any of it. She felt, though, that she had much to offer in knowledge of the history of her own ages of the world.
She had much to think about. She also needed a good bout of exercise to bring her back into the land of the living. She sat down with a roll of parchment, ink, and a quill, to compose a message. When done writing, she called Beruthiel, her lioness, to her.
“Take this to the warrior, meleth nin. Then you may go to the forest to hunt. Mind, Beruthiel,” she called, as the huge white lioness began to turn away to her errand, “be careful of what you eat.”
The lioness growled assent, took the proffered parchment roll in her mouth, and left Galadriel to compose herself to sleep.