Legolas hummed to himself. He was musing over the past few years. First light began to peek above the horizion as he and Astrid, an elfling of Lothlorien, rode west to Minas Tirith from Illithin.
The girl was begining to remind him of Haldir. She looked more like her mother, a half elf from Rohan, but her thoughts were beginning to become more and more like her father’s.
She was quiet as they went along. Astrid prefered to survey the area as she travled rather than speak over the hoof thumps on the hard packed road. Up ahead her eyes caught sight of the city for the first time. It nearly took her breath away as she overlooked the work of the men and the repairs made by the dwarves.
Eldarion sat and watched Pippin try to best his father. The whole of the city was celibrating the 16th aneversary of the victory agenced Mordor, and Pippin thought that he could do better at throwing anything that anybody could give him. He wanted to go first evry time, and now he’d been faced with a statue of a dog nearly as tall as he was.
That ol’ Strider isn’t going to out do me! I…just….have…to…pick…it…up…first! he thought as he struggled to lift it.
“Just call it quits already, Pip! You know you can’t do it!” Elanor, Sam’s oldest child called out.
“I can, too! You just watch!” he called back.
After another long hard atempt, he finally did give in. The prince moved off around the city with Rhiannon after. Rhiannon was just three years younger than him, and he had a small surprise for his little sister.
Rhiannon had always envied the horses of Rohan, and so his friends helped him out in geting a good mare for her. As they steped into the stables, the golden mare peered at them from her stall. Eldarion’s friends had just gotten her in as the two came up to them.
“For one of the best of the royal riders of Gondor!” said Andon, the most mischievious of the boys in all of Minas Tirith with a playful bow. He was a bit scrawny, but the boy was the hardiest of the common Gondorians.
Her eyes lit up. “M…mine?” she asked.
Horses were rarely ridden in Gondor, but those who did were very good at it. Rhiannon had always ridden Eldarion’s, but she’d always wished to have her own.
“Of course!” laughed Eldarion.
The boys and Rhiannon looked back to the entrance as a shaddw blocked out some of the noon day light pouring in from outside. An elf and his daughter, or so she seemed, led their horses into the stables. The prince and princess reconized them at once. The other boys just stood in amazement.
Andon, Gillian (a slightly large boy from a family of black smiths), and Seredron (a well built inn keeper’s only child) stood in amazement. They’d never met a true blood elf before. The only people that they knew with elven blood were the queen, prince, and the princesses. Even then the royal family were Quenyan not Sindarin like these two.
“I hope the festival’s not over yet. I still have to take you up for a dancing contest, Rhiannon.” the younger maidon addressed the princess.
“It’s no where near over yet, Astrid.” Rhiannon said as she pulled her out with a quick smile and many thank you’s to the boys.
The older elf took the reigns of Astrid’s horse and led them by, nodding to Eldarion as he said hellow. A smirk passed his face as the boys followed him with their eyes.
“What’s the matter with you three?” Eldarion asked. “Legolas Greenleaf needs his horses stabled!”
Andon snaped out of it long enough to busy himself with one of the horses as Gillian took the other. Seredron just stuttered.
“H… he’s a.. a an elf! A… a… a… full elf!”