Dance Of Darkness And Light

Chapter 23: Never Too Late To Learn

A/N: Happy New Year everyone! :) Apologies for not posting a chapter in December, I'd taken a break and needed a fresh head to start things off in the new year. 2 more chapters to go until Linshara's story is done. A new story is being fleshed out and will make its way onto various archives once this one is completed.

Thankees as always to NixNox and Tyren. Love you guys.

On with the show! :)

It had been a good thing, she deemed to gain distance and perspective. The presence of the Mountain and the dwarves kept the wounds fresh and raw, her emotions dangerously close to the surface. Everything and everyone in that mountain had reminded her of Fili, the loss, the emptiness she'd felt when his Force signature was taken away from her.

So when Bilbo decided to make his way home, Gandalf and Linshara decided to accompany him, leaving Bilbo on the borders of the Shire before proceeding southward to Rivendell where Linshara parted ways with Gandalf.

Being back in Rivendell had brought an old sense of familiarity, something she'd tried to put out of her mind and forget, because back then it had been too painful to even consider. The decimation of the Jedi order, the infamous Order 66. Yet now, feeling the Force gathered so potently around her, she revelled in the feeling. Rivendell itself reminded her of the images of the old Jedi Temples she'd seen in the the Coruscant Archives. The one on Tython and on Ossus.

Now the distant loss provided comfort against the fresh wounds that still gnawed at her heart. The Jedi spent her time meditating, practicing, learning of the vast and long histories of Middle Earth. Elrond's presence itself had such a healing effect on her, almost as if she'd been in the presence of an old master again. Now that she'd gained much more perspective and experience in this world.

Arwen and her brothers, Elladan and Elrohir provided the lightheartedness she'd come to admire for its calm and subtlety. They weren't like those of the dwarves or the Hobbit, or the rambunctiousness of the Dwarves. They were calm, wise, subtle and a touch impish.

Three years would pass of complete immersion into her studies and focusing on the soothing, albeit intense effect the Force Nexus of Rivendell had on her. Her Force visions had considerably lessened, toned down even to a rare few.

So it was one day that Elrond found her meditating near the waterfalls. His calm, yet strong presence had an unmistakable Force signature.

"Master Elrond." She softly said, unmoving from her cross-legged pose on the ground.

He towered over her for a moment, before he too, albeit awkwardly, sat down in the same position. "Good morning, Linshara. How are you today?" He asked, that small, trademark smile in the corner of his lips.

Her hair was almost as long as Arwen's now, as she'd not cut it and it danced lightly in the breeze. "I am...well. Today is a good day, I think."

"The night terrors have ceased?" A soft question.

She wanted to say yes, but she knew deep down it was a lie. Frankly, she didn't think they'd ever cease. She hoped though that they would lessen.

"They are...not as bad as before." She said finally glancing over at the ageless elf.

"My daughter leaves for Lothlorien in the morning. Perhaps you would like to accompany her? Visit with Lady Galadriel? You both had expressed desire to meet again as I recall." He offered gently, as a father would to an aggrieved daughter.