Legolas looked down at the crumpled letter in his hands. He had not read it since it was given to him by the errand rider from Rivendell. The rider had said nothing of who the letter was from, only saying that it was to be given in Legolas’s hands only. Legolas knew though where it had come.
Once with the letter in his hands he retreated to the antechamber of his rooms and paced holding the letter tightly in his fist and looking at the fire that he wanted to cast the letter into. At last though he heaved himself into a chair and stared no more at the fire.
“What harm can come of reading the letter?” he asked aloud. “I do not have to answer to her wish and we are no longer friends.” Decided he pulled the letter out and carefully smoothed it out. He was glad the ink had not run over the page, for had it the letter would have been unreadable. Alenor’s hand had shook as she had wrote it and in places the words had trailed where she had come to loss. Leaning closer so he might be able to work out the words Legolas read the letter to himself.
Dear Prince Legolas,
I guess that with the way of it now that we are no longer friends. Here there was a large blot where Alenor had stopped writing with her pen hovered above the paper so it dripped. It took Legolas a few minutes to understand the next letter, but he was used to Alenor’s messy writing even though not as bad as this and was able to read it clearly afterward. I can tell you in my heart that I am grieved. The day you left I sat and worried. Alas however that it was needless to tell you this for I know there is no changing your mind. Prince I say though can you at least send me back a letter knowing you are safe? I ask for nothing more and if I were to ask what I wish no words would come to paper without my tears wrecking them at thought that you refuse.
Legolas held the letter nearly crushing it once more. She had asked nothing, although close, Legolas felt quite happy that she didn’t, but a small part had been begging her for him to forgive her. He sighed what was said was said, there was nothing he could do to fix it. That was it their friendship was over and if it could be helped Legolas would not answer to any of her letters or words. A small part of him begged him to forget this grudge, but Legolas stamped it out refusing to believe it.
It was a dank dismal day, the clouds were obscuring the sun and everything seemed to have a grey shade to it. Alenor sat at a large bay window in the Hall of Fire and could here the crackle of the cheery blaze behind her and merry talk of the Elves behind her that were escaping from the outside weather. She looked out over Rivendell expecting it to rain any minute, but no rain came. Alenor wondered when her letter had arrived and whether Legolas had answered her request in letting her know if he was safe at home. She wondered what condition Celeborn was in for her Grandfather to shut himself in his study, though Alenor knew he was really in Elladan’s bedroom once more. She knew that Elrohir was once again slowly on his way to recovery though still on the critical and brink of death. She wondered all this, she knew all this, but it wasn’t this that held to her to the window. She kept looking to see if Aragorn and Rana was returning, she worried about their safe return.
Her eyes tried to pierce the gray gloom that clung to Rivendell, but it felt like she had come to a dead end. Alenor sighed and rested her head against the window and looked out.
“You’ve been standing there for some time Lady,” Alenor ignored it. She had didn’t feel like talking to anyone. To top off being worried she wasn’t in a good mood either. It hadn’t helped when she had started screaming at Elrohir’s unconscious form when she went to see him, for betraying her. “Alenor, I’m sorry, I meant Alenor.” Alenor looked up to see the face of Cirdan.
“Oh,” she bobbed a quick bow. “I’m sorry had I known that it was you I would have answered.”
“No harm, I just came quickly, on a matter of urgency and needed to speak with you Grandfather. He is not in the study so I came to ask you where he was, I noticed that you did not wish to be spoken with so I waited for awhile before I asked.” Alenor looked out the window quickly, to avoid having to answer Cirdan and much less look him in the face, she had last seen him when she thrown up on him. She heard him laugh quietly from behind her.
“I know where he is,” Alenor answered quietly. “My lord.” Cirdan came to stand beside her.
“A dismal day isn’t?” he asked as Alenor tried to edge away. He laughed again catching her about the waist cutting away any hopes of escaping. “I will leave you alone once I have my answer!”
“He wishes to be alone,” Alenor mumbled and tried to evade his grasp once again and failed.
“There is nothing wrong Alenor,” Cirdan assured her. “I hold no grudge for what you did. Stop skulking in the shadows I forgive you!” Alenor found it suddenly easier to breathe.
“Thank goodness,” she breathed. “I feared a lot.”
“Alenor,” Alenor stiffened at the voice behind her. Calmly despite her stiff muscles Alenor turned to meet the speaker.
“Lindir,” her voice sounded harsh in her throat. “I told you were not to speak. May I said we at least speak when we pass in the halls.” She saw Lindir’s shoulders stiffen noticeably.
“Lord Elrond wants you,” he said. It sounded as if the words were forced out of his own mouth. “In the High Room.” He furrowed his brow slightly at the strange word. Alenor nodded and beckoning to Cirdan quickly ran to the High Room. Alenor was anxious, and worried. What was wrong? The high room was a balcony set as high as it possibly could, encompassing Rivendell from a high cliff point, that was reached by stairs carved into the rock. This balcony was set near to the sheer wall face where young Elves tried to climb every year. In days when Celebrian was around or any woman waiting for her husband to return from skirmishes away from home they would stand and wait there. It had not been used in years, except for when Elrond had to say something of great importance to Alenor. At this point she could think of only one reason. . . .Celeborn. Unconsciously her stride lengthened to a near run, causing Cirdan to give her worried looks.
When Alenor arrived at the high room her breath was coming slightly more hurried then normal, but that was proven for her near run and height she was at. She had forgotten that Cirdan stood beside her and was shaking his head in bemusement, possibly wondering what caused her to run. Elrond was standing his arms crossed on the rail, attention focused at Rivendell that sprawled from the balcony. From where she stood Alenor could tell there was a worried furrow to his face. What shocked Alenor more was that Erestor was standing nearly concealed in the shadows of living rock apparently waiting for something. Elrond’s hair was wind blown and tangled, but he seemed not to notice. He wore not robes but traveling gear and a sword was strapped to his side. At his feet was one traveling pack.
Alenor sent a wild look at Erestor when she regained her breathing as best as possible. The Elf said nothing and remained his post. Alenor was about to break the silence with a cry demanding answer when Elrond finally turned Alenor saw the look in his eyes. Something was terribly wrong. His eyes had a hard look in them that only showed he was hiding something.
“Good,” he said. He looked past Alenor to Cirdan. “I’m sorry Lord Cirdan, but talk will have to happen later. Erestor will be here to look after you Alenor and he will be able to help you watch over Rivendell.”
“Grandfather,” Alenor said slightly shaken. “What’s going on?”
“May the Valar save him,” Elrond breathed and that was all she heard for Elrond had quickly ushered her away towards the stairs.
*-I’m wondering for the end of the letter. Was that correct to put Alenor Peredhel?