Eleanor, daughter of the Great Warrior Maethor, is a High Elf entrusted when she was but an infant to Finarfin, Galadriel's father. The youngling is then raised alongside Galadriel and her brothers as a member of their family.
Centuries pass in Val...
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Lindon, Middle Earth
As some things happened, Eleanor's laments eventually stopped.
It was a bright morning when she fell quiet, head tilted down as she knelt. She slowly blinked, her eyes catching a glance at her hands. Flowers had grown over her fingers, covering them in shades of various colours. She gazed up, observing the faces of her family forever carved into the tree now. Her heart bled a little more, although her pain was now quiet, for no words could further express the full extent of her sorrow, so no one she sang.
Suddenly, Eleanor heard light footsteps rapidly joining her side, and she turned, feeling for the time in weeks the full weight of her armour, the metal barely altered by her lack of care. Her cape moved with her, the flowers that had evolved over it as well. Her eyes settled over the sharp lines of Elrond's face, his blue sea eyes staring right at her with a mix of concern and what could be admiration.
Once the Half-Elf realised that he had been spotted, he came closer, kneeling by her side.
"You need rest, my Lady," he whispered gently, and in a moment of confusion, he almost went to brush some locks of hair out of the Commander's face. Luckily for Elrond, he realised what he had been about to do, and instead, he took her arm, helping her stand as she gradually left her torpor.
"I must join Galadriel," was her answer, her voice barely above a whisper and coarse with use.
He shook his head, tightening slightly his hold over her arm as she took another step forward.
"I advise against, my Lady," he declared severely, although his face kept a gentle expression and he guided Eleanor out of the Gallery. "You need rest," he repeated, "Only after should you start thinking of what you will do, you and your fleet."
She said nothing at that, silently acknowledging that she might be too tired to take the road right away. Instead, Eleanor followed Elrond as they walked through the halls in the direction of the living quarters, so he could show her her chambers. As they did, she discreetly glanced at the Half-Elf. She found herself staring at his elegant profile a little longer than what she would have thought.
"We haven't had the chance to properly introduce each other," she declared softly, "I was too focused on my own sorrow and I have failed my duties."
She sighed softly before quickly looking up with a small smile.
"I am Eleanor of Aman, the Commander of the Third Fleet and Galadriel's sister, if not by blood then by heart... It is my utter pleasure to finally meet the one they call Lord Elrond Peredhel. I am grateful you have been a friend to my sister when I couldn't be there, and I hope she has been able to find some solace in her sorrow with you by her side."
Surprised by the sudden change of humour the Commander showed, it took a brief moment for Elrond to be able to answer. Still, he found it in him to smile kindly at the elve.
