“Who were they?” asked Rithyim, as Elladan bid farewell to the Rangers with whom he and his brother had been riding. “Who?” he asked his friend, as he turned again to see the horses poung far into the distance. “The other elves,” Rithyim replied, getting frustrated, “the ones that did not stay here. I have never seen them before.”
“They came from the Woodland Realm, my friend. I belive they had word from the King, news of the land I believe. They had reason to speak with Aragorn, but that is all I know.” Elladan stood to walk away to greet his father, but the trubled look on Rithyim’s face made him stay. Again he sat down next to her, and took her hand.
“My friend,” he said, looking into her deep eyes, “What does trouble thee?” Rithyim pulled herself away from his stare and walked unto the balcony which looked over the river. In the wind her dark blonde hair blew in the dance of the breeze and her deep green robe floated in the air behind her.
From his window Lord Elrond his son stood and put his arm around Rithyim. He had awaited this time. Deep unrest was stirred at the heart of the elven kingdoms, and as he had forseen Rithyim was the only one able to uphold the onslaught.
Two days since Prince Legolas of Mirkwood had arrived in the house of Imladris, bearing tidings to Lord Elrond. Elladan knew not of his arrival, and the Prince nor Elrond had scarce been seen, hid deep in the secrecy of the house, in conversation. Indeed, somthing was to begin.
That eve Rithyim was seated in the Hall of Fire, and as she turned to see who had entered the hall Legolas rushed up to her. Before her he knelt, and took her hands in his. “Rithyim,” he said, “I believe you saw them ride forth this morn with the Dunedain, and that you sense a mischanced fortune upon the air of late.”
“Yes” replied Rithyim, searching his eyes, and sensing his antisipation. “What has passed?”
“I cannot tell in this place,” he said. “we must leave, and there I can explain.”
Rithyim looked over at where Elladan stood with Elrond, and had but chance to pass her friend a worried glance before she lest the hall with Legolas.
Once outside the hall Legolas took her hand and led her into the gardens of Imladris. Upon the autum flowers they sat, and the midnight stars flitted among the branches of the scattered glades of trees, and the song of a nightingale was heard upon the crisp evening air.
Rithyim looked up at the sky, at the silmiril stars and the bright new moon. “It has happened, hasn’t it,” she said, without knowing the true meaning of her words, or why she spoke them. “Yes,” replied the Prince, “and though I know that you understan naught of what thee speak, I know that your heart is wary, and that thy mind speaks word of pressing time to thou.”
Rithyim looked at Legolas, and her eyes welled with her tears, as she realised what he was saying, without knowing what it meant. Legolas embraced her, and his eyes gave her courage and determination. “Upon dawn we depart,” he said. “If time holds us well we shall reach Mirkwood befrore the next moon.”