Penned in the House of Healing,
In the Realm of Dorwinion.

Ioriston says that he well knows of the Lady of Lórien who dwells in Caras Galadhon with the Elf-lord Celeborn, her husband, but he thought not to counsel me to travel thither, for the Galadhrim allow no strangers to spy out the secrets of the Naith of Lórien wherein that city lies, and few indeed are permitted even to set foot therein; and the eastern eaves of Lothlórien lie too near the defiled fastness of Southern Mirkwood, in the midst of which stands Dol Guldur upon a stony height, the passing thereof he counselled me before to shun. Forsooth, I am loth to travel nigh the Hill of Sorcery and the drear dungeons of the Necromancer, particularly with the tidings that it is now occupied by Khamûl -- my nemesis and tormentor from the East -- with whom I have no desire to reacquaint myself!

But, says he, Galadriel daughter of Finarfin was the greatest of the Noldor, except perhaps Fëanor, though she was wiser than he, and her wisdom has but grown in the long years of her exile from the Blessed Realm. And though I remember the grievous tale of Melkor's theft of the Silmarils, and of the Doom of Mandos after the Kinslaying of the Falmari in Eldamar, and even the Oath of Fëanor thereafter, yet I do not recall the White Lady's part, nor the divers names of her forest domain: neither Laurenandë nor Lothlórien nor Lórien.

For to my mind, the gardens of Lórien are in Valinor and is the home of the Valar Irmo, Master of Visions and Dreams, and Estë the Gentle. Fairest of all places in Arda, filled with the wondrous songs of sprites and the music of nightingales, and the sweet scent of nightflowers and poppies; and there grow Yavanna's silver willows and yew trees, cedars, and pines by deep clear pools, within the depths of which Varda had set bright stars; and where glittering fountains of refreshment spring forth from green swards; and amidst all, there is the tree-shadowed lake of Lórellin. Or such is the lore that I surprisingly recall with great clarity.

And so Ioriston told of how Galadriel fought against Fëanor in defence of her mother's kin in the Kinslaying at Alqualondë, and after the betrayal of Fëanor and the burning of the white swan-ships of of the Teleri at Losgar, with the host of Fingolfin she and her brothers, Finrod, Angrod and Aegnor, crossed the treacherous grinding ice of Helcaraxë in the far north and came to the shores of the Hither Lands. It is said by some that at the end of the Elder Days after the final overthrow of Morgoth, in pride she refused the pardon of the Valar, and yet remains in Middle-earth until this day; however, it is the belief of Ioriston that rather she deems it is her burden to not depart while Sauron is yet unconquered.

Of the Golden Wood -- or Lórinand, the Valley of Gold, in the Silvan tongue -- my friend told that after the War of Wrath, Sindar came from the deluge of Beleriand in the West, and Amdír became king of the Nandor in Lindórinand, and therefore Sindarin became their common tongue and Lothlórien the forest's name. At the Battle of Dagorlad, in the War of the Last Alliance, King Amdír perished and many of the Nandor were slain; Amroth his son became the new King, but he was weary of Middle-earth and desired to seek Valinor in the West. And so when it came to pass that Moria fell to evil he departed to Edhellond with his beloved, Nimrodel, and grievously they were forever lost.

Thus is the Song of Nimrodel that Ioriston sang to me, and I wept for every sorrow in the world, now and aforetime, as I hearkened to its words:

Now Celeborn, a Sinda, had dwelt with his wife Galadriel in Eregion, and after its fall and the demise of Celebrimbor son of Curufin, Lord of Eregion, together they passed through Hadhodrond (that the Nornalië Dwarves name Khazad-dûm) and came to Lindórinand. And after the passing of Amroth and Nimrodel, they took for themselves the titles of Lord and Lady of Galadhrim, and they raised the city of Caras Galadhon upon a green hill; and there Galadriel planted the silver mallorn-nuts that she had aforetime been gifted by Gil-galad, the Noldorin King of Lindon, and thereby flourished the only mellyrn to be found east of Alatairë the Great Sea. And so the realm of Lothlórien became known as the Golden Wood thenceforth, and it prospered for more than a thousand years under the golden boughs of the mallorn-trees, timeless and without decay.

At these words a longing grew within my heart to indeed visit within the confines of Laurenandë Lothlórien, for I now much desire to meet a malinornë of Valinor.

However, Ioriston is unsure if this is the course I might follow, for he will not gainsay his lord... the choice is mine alone, says he, and I know not whither I should repair. Has uncertainty ever been my chief flaw? Is this why I prevailed upon my ill-fated friend to accompany me into the East, so to decide when I cannot, and thus I led him to his doom? It seems unjust that I can recall the lore of ancient days, but know not who I was.

1. The Fellowship of the Ring