Sometime within the Second Age after Galadriel and Celeborn settled into Lothlorien with their concourse of Noldor and Sindar; there was a great storm that assailed the fair wood. Sudden and in the dead of night, it was as if Lorien's balance had been ruined. Great winds tore through the mallorn, the delicate touch of moonlight seemed to have been snuffed out by the encroaching mighty canopy of leaves. The air became mute of life, filling with an unease. As swift as this storm brought its devastation, it faded into nothingness. The restoration of peace that night was by Galadriel's doing. Lothlorien could have nearly been ravaged but, by the grace of Nenya, once more it was perserved. There is record of this incident in Lothlorien and Imladris, even Valinor. Much detail remains shrouded in mystery, most known by those who witnessed the deadly phenomonen. No lives were lost, but minimal rebuilding of flets and other fortifications along the Anduin and Celebrant rivers. Caras Galadhon seemed to have been spared the most of the destruction but, suffered as well. There are those who still talk about it, whispering that the shrill sound of the winds sounded like a child shrieking in the night and that the rain that fell upon the wood was warm and tasted like tears.

On a tranquil summer day within Caras Galadhon, Galadriel lie peaceful and calm upon a bed of niphredil with her young daughter, Silivriel curled in her arms. The child, with a natural and innocent curiosity looked to the extravagant ring befitted on her mother's hand. "Nana, you always wear your pretty ring. May I see it better?" Galadriel smiles, only as a doting mother can as she brings her hand up to rest in her daughter's small digits. Those little fingers softly caress the finely crafted silvery white metal, pale blue eyes alight in adoration. Then, she smiles blithely peering up at her mother. "It is more beautiful then any other jewels I have seen! ..Can I wear it for a bit?" Galadriel shakes her head, gently pulling her hand away from Silivriel and she cuddles the child close, whispering melodically. "That I must deny you, my little one. It is not meant for your hand, for which I am thankful for." A sigh is imparted from the child, a small pout of her lips. She curls up against her mother in defeat, her cheeks pressed loving against Galadriel's bosom. "..Will I wear it someday?" "No. You are destined to wear a greater, more radiant jewel when you are older. Now, let us find your Ada before we are lost in the niphredil." That night as Silivriel lie in her slumbering mother's arms, she looks at the ring. Slowly and quietly, she slides the ring from Galadriel's finger and with much delight dancing in her eyes, she put it on her own small digit. The child was instantly stricken with visions and feelings she could not comprehend; thoughts that weren't her own. It was too much for her young, fragile mind to know or understand. Her piercing wails and the burden of the ring gone, are what awakened her mother to find the child, stiff in her arms with her pallid blue eyes wide and glittering like Nenya as tears streamed down her cheeks. Alerts from wardens and other Elves rang out from all over Lothlorien as the mysterious storm started tearing through the golden wood. Galadriel pried Nenya from Silivriel's finger, placing it back on her own. Celeborn rushed to his youngest child's aid, cradling her limp form in his arm as he shielded the elder, Celebrian from the vicious winds. With Nenya back where it belonged, Galadriel managed to get Lothlorien back under careful balance. But, Silivriel would always bear the mark of Nenya outside; as well as within. Her long, pale blonde hair now as silver as the ring itself and all which she keeps hidden inside. Galadriel and Celeborn wished to keep this from ever reaching thears of others but, they could not halt rumor and legend.

It was a grave day in the scarred Golden Wood as a family stood together. Celeborn, Galadriel, and Silivriel stood at the foot of Caras Galadhon one last time before the call of battle seperated them. As Celeborn and Galadriel with their many boats sailed across the Anduin to bring down Dol Guldur, Silivriel led her troop to the borders of Lothlorien to purge the forest and protect Caras Galadhon. A great battle began in two places that eve. Silivriel had been confidant and victorious the initial two strikes, as she went into this one fearless and undaunted. Smoke and flame assailed the lovely borders by desperate, murderous Orcs and Uruk Hai. The Lorien elves pressed on behind their captain, slaying those who wished to befoul their most precious realm. As dawn came upon the battle, victory rose with it but, at such cost. Silivriel, was not to be found; not even among the hordes of fallen Orc and Uruk Hai. Only a bloodied mantle, bearing the sigil of Galadriel and Celeborn.

At that moment in Caras Galadhon, her loyal steed, Lossecrest broke from her stables and galloped wildly into the dense forests of Lorien. With the War of the Ring now at its end and Lothlorien saved, the Elves rejoiced but, mourned the loss of Silivriel. Finally, out of Celebrian's shadow and a heroine in her own right. As word had been sent to the reaches of Minas Tirith to Arwen, Elrond, and The Peredhil, Lossecrest returned three days and two nights hence with much haste. On her back, clutching with nearly lifeless fingers was the Silver Warden herself. It seemed that with the end of an old age, her fate had awakened to the new age that awaited just on the horizon.

[[Elfess Image was not drawn by me, but by some other talented individual. ^^ However, all image effects for heading and elfess were appiled by me through PSP 7.]]