Echoes Beyond

Trouble

Man only likes to count his troubles; he doesn't calculate his happiness

A few days had passed, and the Elvenking's palace had grown quieter than usual. The absence of any forces or Celeborn himself weighed heavily on the air. These days, Neerin has tried to adjust to her new surroundings, but it wasn't easy. The palace, with its grand halls and labyrinthine corridors, still confounded her. More often than not, she found herself lost, and a passing elf would have to guide her back to her chambers.

Despite her attempts to socialize, the ladies of the court remained distant. Conversations with them were brief and awkward, as they seemed wary of incurring Thranduil's wrath. Her only regular company was Parashia, the servant Legolas had assigned to her, but even Parashia was hesitant to speak freely. She had tried to engage with Legolas, but he was perpetually busy. He spent hours in his chambers, poring over maps of Mirkwood, strategizing for a battle that had yet to come. The silence from Celeborn was deafening, adding to the tension.

Neerin's sense of isolation grew with each passing day. Despite the beauty of the palace and the kindness shown to her by Legolas, she felt utterly alone. Her only solace was the library, a sanctuary where she could lose herself in books and escape the cold reality of her situation.

This morning, after Parashia had done her hair and helped her into a new green dress, Neerin made her way to the library. She moved quietly through the corridors, hoping to avoid the pitying or dismissive glances of the other elves. As she approached the library doors, she took a deep breath, willing herself to find some measure of peace within its walls.

She opened the doors carefully, stepping inside. The library was dimly lit, the morning light filtering through the high windows casting a soft glow on the rows of books. At the far end of the room, she saw a familiar figure, his arms braced on the table, leaning over a spread of maps. Legolas was deep in concentration, his eyes fixed on the papers before him.

Neerin only spared a glance towards his back, intending to leave him undisturbed. She tried to close the doors as quietly as possible, but the soft creak of the hinges betrayed her presence.

     "Come in," she heard from his hoarse voice.

She exhaled, her heart racing. Gathering her composure, she stepped fully into the library and approached the table where Legolas stood. The closer she got, the more she could see the strain in his posture, and the tension in his shoulders.

     "Good morning, Legolas," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

He looked up from the maps, his blue eyes meeting hers. For a moment, the weight of his responsibilities seemed to lift, and he offered her a small, tired smile. 

     "Good morning, Neerin. I didn't mean to disturb you."

     "You didn't," she assured him. "I was just seeking some quiet. The library has become my refuge."

Legolas nodded, understanding in his eyes. Somewhere deep, he felt a pang of guilt, for not making a good company to her. For not making company at all.

     "I'm glad you've found a place of peace here. I'm sorry I haven't been able to spend more time with you. These maps... they demand my attention."

Neerin looked at the maps, trying to make sense of the lines and symbols. 

     "Are you planning for a battle?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern.

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. 

     "I hope it doesn't come to that. But we must be prepared for every possibility. Your father's silence is troubling, and we can't afford to be caught off guard."