"If the world sees me only as a beast destined to bring about their demise, what purpose is there in trying to be anything more?"
With her choice, a new age can begin, And the Dragonborn's power can be used to win. But beware, all who hear this prop...
The crack of the twig beneath her boot was enough to stir the horse. His ears flicked back, his head raised sharply, and his nostrils flared as he shifted uneasily. Anaynah froze, feeling the horse's tension ripple through the air like a faint tremor. Her gaze locked on him, then slowly shifted to the figure, who had turned at the sound.
For a heartbeat, neither of them spoke. Their eyes met.
It was the Young Prince.
"Anaynah?" Legolas spoke first, his voice a murmur, as if testing the air.
Her heart thudded in her chest at the sound of her name, and for a moment, she was unsure how to respond. She hadn't expected to see him like this, standing before her. A soft, faint smile tugged at her lips as she took a step forward, her voice finally breaking the silence. "Legolas," she simply said.
Her gaze lingered on him, noting how his features had subtly changed over the years. His face, still ever youthful, seemed softer. His posture, too, had changed. Gone was the cocky confidence of the young Elf who had once held himself like he was the centre of everything. In its place stood a quieter strength, one forged through hardship, perhaps through time spent with the Dunedain. Anaynah had heard stories of his travels with them through Aragorn, though their paths had never crossed there.
He stood still for a moment, his cutting eyes scanning her face, studying her as if trying to read the years in her features. Then, his gaze shifted to the horse, and he broke the silence with a teasing edge. "I am assuming he and you have some stuff to work through," he said lightly, motioning to the horse with a tilt of his head. His lips curled into a wry grin, the mischief still present in his voice, despite the years that had passed.
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Anaynah chuckled, feeling some of the tension in her chest ease. She took the reins of the horse from him, brushing her tunic as if to clear the last traces of the uncomfortable moment. "Yes, he's been giving me trouble today," she replied, her voice laced with both amusement and a hint of frustration. She straightened her tunic, a playful glint in her eyes. "I had to remind him who's in charge, but I think he's starting to get the message. Perhaps not..."
Legolas watched her, his eyes softening as he observed her ease with the horse. Then, his gaze flickered back to her face. "You haven't aged a day," he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft, as if in awe. His eyes narrowed slightly as he took in her features, trying to piece together the puzzle of time and memory.
Anaynah's eyes briefly lowered, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her face. She took a deep breath, her fingers lightly brushing the mane of the horse, avoiding his gaze for a moment.
"Yes," she said finally, her voice quieter than before. "We believe my birth parents might have been part of the Dúnedain. That, or..." She hesitated, trailing off as the words danced on the tip of her tongue, the truth always too heavy to say outright.
Legolas's gaze softened with understanding, and he stepped a little closer. "Or... it's part of you, isn't it?" His voice was barely a whisper, but there was no need for further explanation. He understood.
