Moonbreeze (Legolas x OC)

Part 2

It takes some days for the hobbit to recover enough for him to find the strength to open his eyes. And within these days, others arrived; three more Hobbits and with them a man of great decent.

As the first hobbit's strength grows, they reunite with their former companion and are able to enjoy the riches the Last Homely Home holds. For a moment, they are able to forget the fears they encountered on their way to this peaceful settlement. They were left unaware of the plans that were made by their host.

"They should arrive any day now." Lord Elrond speaks, his voice echoing through his study.

Ithilae scowls. She made it clear before that she did not entertain positive feelings of summoning a company that will be present for a council, one to discuss the faith of the One Ring. Strategically speaking, the less people know of it, the better. But the Elf Lord and Gandalf insisted that the other peoples of Middle-Earth have just as much say on its future as them. It is safe to say that she was outnumbered.

"I shall pass this by Frodo once they have. He shall be present." Gandalf states, puffing on his pipe in leisure. His eyes however betray that he is deep in thought, plotting the future.

"I still feel like you should take it off of him, before he grows too attached to it, or it to him." Ithilae huffs, gazing outside with narrowed eyes.

"And leave it where? Will you carry it?" Gandalf nearly scoffs.

Ithilae bristles at the suggestion. "It might be your best bet! It is not fair to the youngling to subject him to such a burden for so long. You know it will try to destroy him!" she counters rather haughtily.

Gandalf sighs and pauses his smoking, his face placid for a moment. He does feel guilty to have Frodo carry the ring, for every second of it, but it is unwise to let it pass through more hands before they reach a decision. And besides.... "He is remarkably resilient, you might not prove to be." he tells Ithilae.

She scrunches up her nose, readying herself to rebuke his words, but is cut off by another voice hissing through the air: "Dár. (Stop.) Do not be arrogant child." speaks the one appearing next to her out of thin air.

Ithilae glares at the white translucent figure, but stays silent. "If you were to carry that ring, he would finds us, and use us. We have managed to elude him for this long, do not let the effort go to waste." he continues before turning to the other two present in the room.

"We will do whatever is necessary. Whatever will be decided on in the council, we will see it through. Hopefully, it will give the both of us the peace we need." he vows.

Lord Elrond nods in appreciation. "Hannon Ile. (Thank you.) We hope for the same result Celebrimbor."

"All I hope for is the Dark Lord's end; he who summoned you to return from the dead and cursed my very existence, grandfather." Ithilae mutters darkly, eyes on the elf that is has been caught between the death and living for many ages. He has been left a Wraith.

Celebrimbor narrows his eyes at the woman. Her snide words make him feel unwanted, but that is nothing new to him, but the sting of them is ever present. Despite that, he too craves for the end of the Dark Lord. Revenge has long been on his mind.

After a moment of tense glaring, Ithilae steps away from the window and makes for the door. "Where are you planning on going?" her grandfather asks her, recognizing the brisk stride of the elleth.

"Hunting!" she states. "Do not worry, we will return on time." she spits as an after thought, making the Elven Wraith sigh in disdain before disappearing. He knows when it is useful to argue and when it isn't.