The Whispers of Valinor

The mountains

Althaea's POV

"Your parents didn't die defending Valinor. They were betrayed."

The idea was unthinkable, and yet his voice lingered like smoke, curling around her thoughts and refusing to dissipate.
She tightened her grip on the hilt of her blade as though grounding herself in its cold steel.

When she reached the chamber where her sisters waited, their warmth immediately washed over her, a stark contrast to the chilling encounter she had just endured. Aurêlia stood there waiting, bathed in sunlight, her golden hair gleaming like the first light of dawn. Ithara lounged on a cushioned seat, her earthy green attire blending with the mossy tones of the woods.

Legolas leaned casually against the tree, his sharp gaze softening slightly when it landed on Althaea.

"You've been gone a while," Aurêlia said, her tone light, though her piercing gaze suggested otherwise. "Where have you been?"

"I needed air," Althaea replied evenly, shrugging off her sister's scrutiny.

Aurêlia's brow furrowed. She took a step closer, her voice lowering. "You're lying, Althaea. What's happening?"

Althaea opened her mouth to deflect, but Ithara's laughter interrupted her. "Aurêlia, leave her be! Not everyone needs to report their every move."

Legolas smirked, but his eyes remained fixed on Althaea, sensing the same unease as Aurêlia.

"Ithara, we're not all prone to sneaking off into the woods to nap," Aurêlia countered, though a small smile tugged at her lips.

Althaea exhaled slowly, grateful for the brief reprieve. She would have to face Aurêlia's questions later, but for now, was her burden alone.

Aurêlia's POV

Althaea was hiding something.
Aurêlia could see it in the slight tension in her posture, the way her hand lingered near the hilt of her sword.
The eldest sister was never one to waver, yet there was a crack in her usual impenetrable armor.

Aurêlia turned away, her mind racing.
Whatever Althaea had encountered, it was something dark, something that left a shadow in its wake.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Legolas's voice. "Shall we press on? The mountains aren't known for their hospitality after dark."

POV

The air grew colder as the group ascended the mountain path.
Snow clung to their boots, and the wind howled like a living thing.
Althaea walked ahead, her eyes scanning the rocky terrain for any sign of danger.
Ithara, despite the chill, hummed a cheerful tune, her lightheartedness a balm against the growing tension.

Aurêlia, however, kept a wary eye on her older sister, her unease mounting with each step.

A sudden screech pierced the air.

"Orcs!" Legolas's voice rang out as a horde of dark figures emerged from the cliffs above, arrows whistling through the air.

The sisters moved in unison, their training and bond honed over centuries. Althaea unsheathed her sword, its silver blade gleaming even in the dim light. She lunged forward, her movements precise and lethal as she cut down an orc that charged her.