In all honesty, I don't do this sort of writing, so am really bad
it, but when issued a challenge, I have to respond, and Lizmybit has
goading me into this for a few days. For what it is worth, (and I
it took me an hour and 15 to do) here it is:
The scene: The Fellowship of the Ring; Farewell to Lorien.
So the company went on their long way, down the wide hurrying waters, borne ever southwards. Bare woods stalked along either bank, and they could not see any glimpse of the lands behind. The breeze died away and the river flowed without a sound. No voice of bird broke the silence. The sun grew misty as the day grew old, until it gleamed in a pale sky like a high white pearl. Then it faded into the west and dusk came early, followed by a grey and starless night. Far into the dark quiet hours they floated on, guiding their boats under the overhanging shadows of the western woods. Great trees passed by like ghosts, thrusting their twisted thirsty roots through the mist down into the water. It was dreary and cold. Frodo sat and listened to the faint lap and gurgle of the River fretting among the tree-roots and driftwood near the shore, until his head nodded and he fell into an uneasy sleep.
Sam sat silently, and looked at his master’s face, as Frodo murmured with furrowed brow. ‘His dreams aren’t good,’ thought Sam, ‘but I just can’t wake him. He hasn’t slept well since the night at the lady’s mirror. I don’t know what he saw, but it was worse than what I saw, I’ll warrant, ‘though I can’t imagine what that could be.’
The gentle rocking of the ship lulled Sam into a light sleep. He feared that his dreams would be troubled too, but as he slipped under the waves of unconsciousness, he began to flow against the current of the mighty river, allowing the cool water to sooth his weariness as he sought the home of the elves. Swiftly his mind returned to the sward where the company had departed. There, under the moonlit shadows of the mallorn trees, stood a vision of Galadriel, clothed all in white, with a ring on her hand, and a silver veil obscuring her face.
Sam was so stunned that he almost missed the voice singing gently on the breeze. The first part was in elvish, then slowly it changed into the common speech. The words of the elvensinger engraved themselves in Sam’s heart, and never left him.
I dream a dream, of gardens fair, and gardens do I see.
I dream of walking under stars, beneath a flowering tree.
And from afar, I hear the sea, its mournful, haunting tune
In silent voices, calls to me, beneath the glimmering moon..
“Awake my dreamer, rise and see what’s missing from your dreams.
Your wondrous garden is lacking still, not perfect as it seems.
The gentle stars, the laughing brook, the roses you have grown
Can never dry your soul’s own tears, for still you walk alone.”
Yet still I dream, for they are life to hobbits who can see.
But dare I dream to wake, and find, you walk my dreams with me?
Sam felt tears welling up inside of him, as he realized that the voice was singing words from his own heart. As the final words washed over him, he felt himself pulled away from the glade with the tide of the Anduin. He struggled to clear his vision, and as he looked back upon his last vision of Lothlorien, the silver veil shimmered in the starlight and disappeared, revealing the face of his beloved Rosie.