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In Middle Earth
Chapter 1 Samhain in Ireland
Isolde felt the tremor of the drum, imagined the flame of the fires on the rocky headlands, even before she left her bed chamber. Sitting before her looking glass smearing the root salves of Samhain at her cheek bones, the queen cares not of her station this night.
It was an enchanting autumn evening. The ambiance couldnāt be more perfect even if it were conjured by the gods! They had been blessed with a warm current, a still sea aroma whispered in through her stone window, a full moon peeping through shadowed limbs.
Many from the village of Wexford would have already congregated, along with their sacred beasts, music makers and festive foods. Voices would be rising in chants of thanksgiving for the harvest crops and songs about the new year!
Isolde sensed ethereal presence as she moved closer to the waterās edge. She would not stay in Ireland this night. A send from another realm had invited her to wander. Eyes wide, Isolde bowed her head in appreciation, for, before her arose Brigid, āThe Exhaulted āOneā Her arms were spread, gathering Isolde inā¦.
āRemember, the faeries leave them offerings before your journeyā¦. remember them. Make your offerings, a ghra.ā 
Isolde thought for a second, Brigid was right. The faeries would indeed be hurt without a Samhain gift. She appreciated, and adored the little folk who lived and protected her in the emerald isle, and her gardens at Dunlace were teeming with herbs and seeds for their pleasureā¦the rocks, feathers, and dewdrops which gather there were all for their desireā¦.. she stopped knowing that wasnāt enough. A smile spread across her lips as she imagined the shimmering trail of magic which would follow her over the sea, as she left Dunlace. The fae would be dazzled! 
At that moment a graceful horse, white as the moon, lightly landed beside her. The horn, which protruded from the center of her forehead glowed a moony white. Isolde climbed upon her and was lifted slowly into the sky. Waving her hand she then sent her unicorn her need to kiss the faeries. Every sort of shady creatures, then, seemed to rise out from the rocky cliffs and watery waves. Risen souls, apparitions dressed in gauzy gowns, shadowy dream walkers, and wandering illusionsā¦.. Isolde listened to their whining and murmuring. Suddenly a warm whistle cut through the needinessā¦. 
Chapter 2 Samhain in Rohan
Down through the puffy dark clouds they descended~Isolde~ Queen of Wexford, Eire, and her beloved unicorn, West Wind. Until alas! ā¦.a graceful landingon to a prairie grass, grayish, brown to dying. Slipping down from her ride, Isoldeās booted feet waded down into the, almost foot-high field growth. Where am I?
Her joy melted away into sadnessā¦spotting a rock nestled in the tall grasses, she sat. Fate had returned her to Middle Earth. She lifted her eyes to the vast skies of Rohan. āWe can not stop here, West Wind. There are only hours till the thinning of the veils. There would be no fires burning here, where we can join in the return of hallowed souls! The words were no more out of her mouth, before her friend nudged her back aboard. Soon the harps, whistles and drums were heard in the distanceā¦..then the flames from roaring fires on the shoresā¦.. they watched.
With only a few nights left of Samhain, regrets were reality. Mayhap it would have been better to stay along the beaches of Dunlace before setting off into these otherworldsā¦.Not a soul answered her call along ley lines here. And yet there was something familiar about it. Her sidhe defenses would override the panic which cried to pulse through herā¦.
It was just a short jaunt to the banks of the Great Anduin, where they settled in at the Tongue. A party of druidās had already begun to hail in the new year! The vibration of the Celtic drumbeat , and the fires flame prompted tears, as they swelled in Isoldeās heart. . A tall ghostly wisp offered his hand and the two danced happily. Their song rose up into the trees and out over the skies, until evening turned into a starry blackness. 
In the morning therewas a ribbon of foggy mist winding mysteriously along the woodland path. Something was calling her deeperā¦until Isolde rememberedā¦she was in Lorienā¦the ever young realm of Galadriel, where time seemed to stand stillā¦ and there is no evil~a place of rest for those who trust in the good bounty of the Golden Wood.
Chapter 3 Lothlorian
Lorien, the more golden it became..Isolde thought it was not the same, colorful autumn as in Ireland or Britannia; but the giant Mallorn trees stood majestic, never shedding a leaf, as they held on to them all year long. Her journey east into Lothlorien and straight to Caras Galadhonā¦.was magical, and as she took it all in. Her eyes finally rested on the tall lithe form at the well. Isolde stood at a distance listening, even as she knew the Lady would feel her presence.
Isolde gazed upon her fair skin and lovely cloakā¦both shimmering with an aura of āall knowing wisdomāā¦.. ā Lady of Lightā was her well-deserved title, and her confident stature and calmness assured all souls of it. Isolde was not sure why she had called here; returned to the forest of Lorien, but trusted that this was where she was destined.
There were few she respected more than Lady Galadriel; who had the utmost fondness for even the dwarves of Mordor and the men of the south. Isolde didnāt question that she even now knew she was here.
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adventurous
creative
