Legolas stood on the side of the street as people rushed past him. Men grabbed spears and swords from racks running as they went. Women and small children ran the opposite way. One woman was being pushed and shoved. She carreid an infant, two other children behind her. They were repeatedly run into as they tried to make their way through the crowd of people. Legolas frowned when he saw them, and started toward them. He placed himself between her and the oncoming army of soldiers. “Let this woman through!” He shouted and stopped a man attempting to push past them. A voice rose about the stomping of hurried feet. “Perhaps I should bring to your attention,” THe voice said, and the hand was abruptly pushed off the breastplate. “that I am a woman too.” The helmeted head, not much shorted than Legolas tilted upward to reveal a woman’s face. Her face came to a piont at her chin. Her nose was pointed also; her eyes were a fierce shade of blue and they bore into him, annoyed. She gave Legolas a final glance before continuing. Legolas watched her blend with the other soldiers, baffled. Just the same, he turned and shouldered his way to the side of the street, the woman and her little ones following her.
When they arrived at the gate, the woman ushered her children inside, and turned to Legolas, who was leaving. She caught his arm, and he turned. “No amount of thanks I could give you would be enough.” He looked down at her tender face. “Thanks is not neccessary.” He told her gently. “However, perhaps you can provide me with some information.” The woman nodded. “Of course.” “Who was the woman I stopped?” She smiled before she spoke. “Ah, yes. Tamuríl. She is a warrior. And a strong one at that. She is also mysterious in her ways. It is said it is difficult to earn her full respect.” “She seems to put faith in no one but herself.” “Yes. But she is good to us. She is the king’s favored, but she defends the children against harsh words towards eachother, or adults.” “I thank you.” The woman watched Legolas walk away.
Tamuríl stood, leaning over the wall that overlooked the rows of elves, clad in light hues of purple. They had come from Lorien, she could tell. Aragorn, stood waiting for them. She eyes the march warden. Who had Galadriel sent? Her mouth fell open as he removed his hood. Haldir himself was standing there, smiling at Aragorn. He exchanged an embrace of welcome and friendship from Aragorn, although a little awkwardly. Tamuríl shook her head. The last time she had seen Haldir was over a century ago. She had been with a squadron of men, and they were passing through the forest. Haldir had stopped them, and recognized her, but not said anything. He had let them go. It was baffling to her why he kept quiet. Her attention snapped back to the moment when the elves turned to face the king, and they displayed thier finely crafted bows. Tamuríl shook her head again, smiling. Haldir could not resist showing off. The king was impressed, she could tell, although she could not hear what he said. He talked with Aragorn, and nodded them inside. The elves turned on their heels once more, and marched up the ramp.