A Sense of History: Thálatta! Thálatta!
While he never climbs the stairs of this Elf-tower, in Lothlórien Frodo Baggins descends a flight of steps to look into Galadriel’s Mirror, wherein he first sees the sea. This post examines the view.
An Avar considers those who left before his birth.
(No warnings. Drabble)
Murien thinks on the fate of their sundered kin. Did they find what they sought, fulfillment of those lofty promises? Did they ever regret their choice?
He would not have followed; the very thought is waved away like a meddlesome moth. How could he leave the forests of his people where they have dwelt for generations, pushing back against the darkness to kindle their own light?
Nowhere else would be home.
Still, he thinks on it, his imagination crafting a scene: luminous plants and sweet waters, songs of harmony, and quiet contentment. What could the West offer that he lacks?