𖥔 ࣪˖ ⊹₊ ⋆ ➵𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐋 -OIALË
↪︎ legolas thranduillion
❝Yet you offer trust so freely. What makes you think I will not turn this blade on you?❞
❝if you wanted to, you would have done so already.❞
𝗶𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 ━Eliamäre daugther...
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━━act one 𖥔 ࣪˖ ⊹₊ nepenthe CHAPTER TWO warding the storm ⋆₊⊹˖ ࣪𖥔 THIRD AGE YEARS ━━140
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𖥔 ࣪˖ ⊹₊ ⋆ ↪︎
❝ you just have to trust your own madness.❞
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The journey to Lothlórien had begun at dawn, the first light of Anor spilling over the peaks of the Misty Mountains, bathing the valley of Rivendell in a soft golden glow. Eliarame stood beside her father, Elrond, as the horses were prepared for their long journey. The air was cool and crisp, filled with the scent of pine and damp earth from the previous night's rain.
Eliaräme rode alongside her family, her heart burdened by the weight of her visions, her mind replaying the dark images that had haunted her for weeks now. They traveled through dense forests and over rolling hills, the rhythmic sound of hooves on the ground offering little solace. Beside her rode her father, Lord Elrond, his brow furrowed with concern.
The path out of Rivendell was a familiar one, but as they rode farther, the landscape began to change. The trees thickened, their branches forming a canopy overhead, and the light that filtered through grew softer, more golden.She let her mind wander, her eyes trailing over the ever-shifting beauty of the landscape—ancient oaks and beech trees towering over them, their roots knotted and deep, ferns brushing against her boots as they passed.
Her mother, Celebriane, behide her, the wind catching her hair and making it shimmer like silver. Every now and then, she would glance at her daughter.
"Eliaräme," she called gently, her voice low, "are you all right?"
