The fumes that rose from the shattered pot were pungent and numbing and Galadriel's expression turned with distaste as they distracted her. Her panic was not so easily forgotten, however, and she twisted, as far as she was able, to peer at the muddy field. Her expression was one of anger and dismay in equal parts.

"I awoke as I first did, disoriented and adrift, but it was far worse this time," Galadriel explained with a bitter sort of speed and certainty. "I am untethered from waking now, this is a dreadful dream, and the power to change it has been stolen away."

She looked back to Ellana, almost desperate for understanding.

"It is mine to protect; I have never removed it, nor would I. It was stripped from me and I cannot permit it to become lost. Not here, not anywhere."