𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘗𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘴

Yesenia was accompanied by the two elves outside the infirmary wing. She wasn't the only one who had been there in recent days. She saw elves lying on beds through some open doors. The rooms opened onto a wooden corridor with supporting columns, leading to a large, multi-tiered garden overrun with greenery. The sun was still shining despite it being late afternoon, and its warmth on her skin made her close her eyes for a moment, her light lashes almost disappearing.

"Here she is, she's the leader of the team that saved you. I don't see the others right now, but I'm sure they're nearby" said Silwen, pointing to an elf sitting on a white marble bench. Her long, blonde hair shimmered like golden threads in the sunlight, brighter than Idril's, which seemed paler by comparison.

"Do you want us to come with you?" added the blonde, but Yesenia, who had been staring at the seated elf, shook her head slightly and looked at the two with a calm expression.

"There's no need. You've been very kind to me; I can go alone." The need to detach from others at that moment seemed like the utmost priority, but she also wanted to know what had happened after she fainted, and if that elf was there, she surely had answers.

The two elves smiled at her, promising to see her later, before disappearing. Yesenia continued to study her surroundings: she was in elven territory, even in the King's palace; there was no rational reason to fear for her safety. Yet, she and her parents had been in Lindon when they were killed. What had been their security back then?

She began to walk slowly, descending the stairs that led to the gardens below, and towards the bench where the elf with long blonde hair was sitting. It was not an empty place: several elves walked back and forth with books in hand, chatting among themselves, or admiring the horizon. All had those pointed ears. She had always thought they were beautiful. And they had been ripped away from her, along with her dignity. Those poorly stitched axe cuts on her ears only made her feel inferior to those beautiful souls surrounding her.

As she walked through the solid stone corridors of the gardens, she reached the bench where the elf was sitting. As soon as the elf saw her, she turned sharply. She had quick reflexes. Her skin was pale and clear, her eyes blue, and her upturned nose accentuated her breathtaking beauty. They scrutinized each other for a moment, without a defined expression, searching for some sign from the other.

"Finally, you've awakened" the elf said with a faint smile, remaining seated, her hands folded on her legs. Yesenia approached with cautious, silent steps.

"You were among those who brought me here; I wanted to thank you for saving my life" said the redhead, continuing to look at her, only averting her gaze at the end.

"Really? Are you happy we saved you?" This question immediately drew Yesenia's attention back to her. The blonde stood up and moved closer. They held each other's gaze, as if the main conversation was taking place in their eyes.

"From what exactly did we save you? From the orcs?" The blonde's question ignited a growing anger in Yesenia, who had the intuition that the elf fully understood the situation.

"Is it really necessary for me to answer that question?" the redhead asked, maintaining her steady gaze. That question, in any case, had already provided an answer.

"What is your name?"

"My name is Galadriel, in the service of High King Gil-Galad. But the real question is who you are" said the other, beginning to circle around her.

The redhead stood firm but stiff as a log while the other examined her with her gaze, never losing sight of Galadriel's hands.

"My name is Yesenia, a grateful soul for your valuable intervention. It would have been even more valuable if you had arrived a few centuries earlier" said the redhead, her tone disturbed and irritable due to Galadriel's bluntness.