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 EIGHT when the forest mourns ⋆₊⊹˖ ࣪𖥔 THIRD AGE YEARS ━━1500
━━━━⊱⚔︎⊰━━━━
𖥔 ࣪˖ ⊹₊ ⋆ ↪︎
❝The arrow that missed left a deeper mark.❞
━━
The forest of Lothlórien stretched endlessly before them, bathed in the warm, golden light of the late afternoon. The trees were ancient, their silver bark glowing softly, and their leaves shimmering like fine gold under the soft rays of the sun. It was a place of beauty, serenity, and history, where the air seemed to hum with the presence of ages long past. Celebrian and her young daughter Eliarame rode along the familiar paths, the hooves of their horses barely making a sound on the soft, moss-covered ground. Every now and then, a gentle breeze would rustle the leaves, whispering secrets of the forest into their ears.
Celebrian's long silver hair flowed behind her, shimmering like liquid moonlight in the fading daylight. Her face, though calm and composed, held a trace of unease. She had traveled this path many times before, but today, something felt different. The birds that usually filled the air with their songs were eerily quiet, and the forest, so often filled with life and sound, was unnervingly still. Her senses, sharp as any elf's, were attuned to the subtle shifts in the world around her, and though she could not yet see the danger, she could feel its presence like a cold breath on the back of her neck.
Riding beside her, Eliarame, , was awestruck by the beauty of Lothlórien. She had heard stories of this magical forest from her mother, but seeing it in person filled her heart with wonder. The towering trees, with their silver and gold leaves, seemed to touch the sky, and the soft light filtering through the branches made the forest look like it was glowing from within. But even Eliarame, so young and innocent, could sense her mother's unease.
"Nana," Eliarame whispered, her voice small in the stillness, "What is it? Why do you seem troubled?"
Celebrian's sharp gaze swept across the surrounding trees, her senses on high alert. She could not shake the feeling that they were being watched. "Tolo, iell nín," she said softly, her voice both tender and commanding. "Stay close to me, Eliarame. The woods are not as peaceful as they seem today."
