𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬

𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘚𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘴

The chances of it happening were almost certain, perhaps even inevitable, but that they would meet again after only a year was something Lasgalen had not imagined. Or perhaps she hadn't wanted to. Or did she? She didn't even know what she felt anymore, and she hated feeling that way.

Preparations had begun throughout the entire city and, of course, within the palace. Gil-galad had spared no effort: everything had to be perfect and worthy of the High King's city. There wasn't a single elf standing idle.

"Is something special being celebrated this year?" Lasgalen had asked Elrond while they were arranging some baskets.

"Nothing in particular. You're wondering about all this extravagance?" he replied with a hint of amusement.

After the red-haired elf gave him a confirming look, he continued.

"I'll tell you the truth: I don't really know the exact reason myself. When I tried to bring it up with Gil-galad, he dismissed the topic rather quickly" he said, pausing to move a heavy basket full of chestnuts.

"But I believe it may be his attempt to strengthen ties with the Silvan elves. We're not in close contact, and after all, we are still elves, despite a few differing opinions. At the heart of all this, there might be an effort to reconnect. It has been centuries."

"Or maybe Gil-galad just wants to ensure the elves are united in times of danger?"

Elrond froze at her words.

"Lasgalen, not you too, please" he said, his voice marked by worry and irritation. He was used to hearing such things from Galadriel, not from her.

"I'm not claiming anything, Elrond! I'm just reasoning, as it seems you are too" she replied.

At her words, the elf dropped one last basket, not exactly gently, before heading toward the exit, visibly annoyed. Lasgalen was startled, though she didn't show it. She merely returned a perplexed and irritated glance.

"Sure. Or maybe Oropher is hoping for a marriage for his son. There are many stunning elf-maidens in this city. What better way to unite the two realms?"

"Elrond?!" she called out, but he was already gone.

She had never seen him act that way.

It made her think more than necessary, as often happened to her: perhaps she didn't know every side of him? Could he be aggressive too? That gesture, small and harmless though it may have been, save for the apples in the basket, had unsettled her. The calmest elf, the one she trusted most in all of Middle-earth, had just revealed a side of himself Lasgalen didn't know.

And that, frightened her.

Preparations continued, and Lasgalen helped Silwen and Idril arrange the guest rooms, the two friends who had taken care of her years ago, during her first days in Lindon.

"Are we out of balm vials?" asked Silwen.

"Yes" replied Lasgalen.

"Then this must be the last room. We've run out of sheets too" Idril chimed in, folding a pearl-gray linen with graceful precision.

"I still can't believe what you told us about Thranduil. It's shameful."

"Oh, I can believe it. That's just how the Silvan elves are."

"I didn't tell you that to turn you against our guests" Lasgalen reminded them firmly. "One elf isn't an example of them all. And I told you how kind they were to me."

She wanted to remind them that her experience in Greenwood had been beautiful, not just the unpleasant parts.

"I suppose you're right. But he really was rude... we could return the favor" said Idril with a mischievous smirk, glancing at Silwen, who wore the same look.