As the heir to the Elvenking's throne, Legolas has been groomed to be a renowned warrior, combat strategist, and emissary. After the events of the Battle of the Five Armies, Legolas leaves his father and his homeland for the first time harboring a w...
Lord Elrond paused in the hall, having left Aerlinniel's room. "She remains fragile," he murmured, glancing up to Lindir for a moment and then narrowed his eyes. "I fear the degree to which her grief has been magnified by the public ousting by Theadra last eve."
"What could have been her motivation my lord?" Lindir shook his head in bafflement.
Elrond's brows knitted together. "I find it hard to believe that Thalen is capable of such cruelty and prefer to think Theadra acted alone, but perhaps he has had me fooled all of these years."
Lindir's eyes widened in disbelief.
"I will be in my chambers if you should need me." Elrond frowned and turned on his heel to leave.
With a deep sigh, Lindir watched as his dear friend, and lord, sulked to his chambers, shouldering the treachery of a trusted captain and the rekindled grief for his youngest child.
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Morning light streamed in through the window casting a prism of light on the stone floor near where Aerlinniel sat with her feet propped upon a velvet stool. The welcoming weight of a heavy fur blanket had been tenderly placed around her shoulders as she leaned in close to the fire.
"Thank you, Lindir," she whispered, drawing it tight across her chest.
"Of course," he murmured draping another fur blanket over her legs - careful to tuck the edges snug, beneath her feet. "We need to thaw you, out my lady," he soothed.
Aerlinniel smiled thinly, for if ever there was an elf she could truly rely upon, it was Lindir - ever faithful and always eager to lend a helpful hand or an encouraging word.
Moments later she found that Lindir had placed a small table beside her with a steaming pot of herbal tea. The soothing scent of peach and lavender wafted from its spout. Without asking, he prepared her tea with milk and honey, just the way she preferred and gingerly offered her the cup and saucer.
"Something to help warm you on the inside."
Aerlinniel gave him a weak smile as she took the cup and placed the saucer back upon the table; keeping the cup snug between her palms.
Lindir remained by her side, in quiet reflection, as he gazed into the fire. "Are you warm enough - or shall I fetch you another blanket?"
Aerlinniel looked up into his eyes, and saw that he knew - everything there was to know - about her parents, the secret kept by Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrían and the painful revelation Theadra had brought upon her last eve.
"No thank you," she said and turned back to the fire. This is how it would be now - the way in which elves would look at her; with pity or concern, perhaps even guilt. Tears began to swell as she wished she could simply awake from the nightmare.
