Born of dark magic, and from a pure soul of silver starlight, Rosemary (Melverìl) is the daughter of Elbereth of the Woodland Realm. Raised in Rivendell as Elrond's own. Blessed by the Valar for the woes of her Mother, Rosemary becomes the most powe...
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It had been eighteen years by human measure, since Elrond had brought Rosemary to Imladris. And the young elf princess was now around six years of age (Elf wise). She was as clever as she was skilled. Already the youngest lady of Imladris had mastered the art of music, and spent much of her spare time singing and song writing. Rosemary was also very skilled with a bow. Many times she managed to best her big brothers in competitions of speed. She was also exceptionally powerful. Already at such a tender age (in Elrond's eyes) his cousin's little star had almost mastered her control of the air.
Elrond watched over the training grounds from his study's balcony, as Melverìl and Elrohir went over techniques for handling daggers. He was worried, his youngest had so much immense raw power, that she had a hard time controlling it. He had sent word for Mithrandir of the istari order, requesting aid in her training.
There was a sudden quake of the earth around them, shaking Elrond from his thoughts, yet nothing had happened, looking out onto the training grounds once more he could plainly see the fear in Rosemary's eyes. Turning quickly he made his way down to where his children trained.
"Melverìl, iell nín, it is alright child. You're safe here, you know this. What has happened?" Looking into her Ada's eyes, Rosemary knew she had to be honest. She'd seen it for years, and it was truly beginning to affect her. She'd been so frightened to ask, and her frustration had finally manifested with the development of a new elemental gift.
"Adar, who is my mother? Why do I not look like our nothlir? I've seen it for years. I wish to know her. Didn't she want me?" As Rosemary continued to speak with her mind spinning in many different dark turns, she failed to notice the tears streaming her cheeks. Elrohir and Elrond didn't however and they were both quick to embrace her, calming her mind so she could listen properly.
"Dilthen tinu. I have called you this from the beginning. In truth, that was your mother's endearment for you." He began. Elrond knew she was too young yet to know the full truth, however, she needed to know she was loved. He could tell her this much at least. "She told me that your radiance was so bright that it was almost blinding, and was quite correct. She knew the moment you were created and loved you every moment she spent with you. However your mother, she wasn't well. A very evil version of the darkness had touched her soul, and she faded away." The lord of Imladris could see the young girl's happiness at knowing that her special endearment had come from her mother, and that she'd been loved. There was sorrow in her too. Knowing that her mother had passed already, and that she doesn't get any memories of her didn't seem fair. Melverìl understood however that sometimes fairness doesn't come into play.
Lindir chose that moment to come onto the grounds with a smile for the young girl he thought of as a sister. "I have news for you celevon elril." He stated. Looking at list lord Elrond, he continued "Mithrandir of the Istari is at the gate"
