Wildest Storms | Love of Royals: Book III

VII: Revenant

The next few days are slow and sleepy.  Imladris has caught us all in a haze—one that Fírion and Tauriel are itching to get out of and on our way back home.  Fíria is mainly what's keeping us here; as the Fellowship do not plan to depart for a while, she is trying to savour her last time with Legolas before we part ways for what could be months.  Alëaren has done what she's always done when something upsets her: she isolates herself from it and busies herself with something else.  In this case, that consists of avoiding her father at all costs and immersing herself in the heavy, dust-coated tomes in Lord Elrond's library.  I doubt they truly interest her, but she rarely leaves the room, and if that's her coping mechanism then I see no reason why I should stop her.

Both Legolas and Fíria have tried to talk to their daughter, but Alëaren has an incomparable ability to close herself off—even from her own parents.  Legolas in particular will emerge fuming from the library almost every few hours after another failed attempt at justifying himself.  Part of me hopes he feels guilty that his choice has led his daughter to shut him out, but then again, I did understand what he chose to do.  Alëaren and Fíria might even believe I endorsed it.  On the other hand, when Telamír heard of what I'd said to Legolas, he empathised with me.  I can usually count on him to be on my side whenever Alëaren is not.

Telamír being Telamír, he has become fast friends with Elrond's sons and some of their friends, who have essentially taken him under their wing.  I have seen them giving him advice on how to chat up some of the beautiful elleths swanning about the courtyard—and vowed not to tell Fírion or Tauriel—but I think their advice will not pay off in the long run.  Charming as Tel is, I doubt Imladris elleths are his type.  And besides, I've seen him on many occasions making eyes at a pretty Silvan back home—Gelya's younger sister, Eirwen.

Eventually, I find myself bored enough to wander around the courtyards in search of new company.  The idea of spending any more time with the ellons who have essentially adopted Telamír seems to have lost all its appeal far too quickly. 

To my satisfaction, I find none other than Glorfindel lounging like a cat along the side of a wide, circular fountain.  He appears to be soaking up the sun, tipping his head back so the light can glint off his golden skin—a little more tanned than most elves.  He is tall and rather lean—not quite my father's staggering height, but tall enough that when he stretches out his legs and rises, I feel comfortably small in comparison.

The way he seems to be satisfied with the sight of me makes my heart flutter. How long had he been waiting out here? Had it been just in the hope of seeing me?

Externally, I keep my calm, holding contact with those crushing aqua-blue eyes. 'My people call you the Golden Revenant.'

'Mine call you the Sky's Miracle.  The first child of a Star.  I am honoured to be in your presence.' He gives me the customary head bow, and I return the gesture.

'As am I to be in yours.  Why aren't you going on the quest, may I ask?  If you are as skilled in battle as I have heard.'

He considers, as though the answer is somewhat beyond him. 'I was told my power is so strong, it will be easily noticed by the enemy and will give away the Fellowship's position.'

'That's not much of a reason.'

'You're right, it's not.  I knew that.  I also chose to stay for my own reasons.'

'So my half-brother could volunteer instead?'

'I don't think there was anything any of us could have done to stop him.  He seemed to have his mind set on it,' Glorfindel says smoothly. 'I looked for you at the Council, but you weren't there.'