"The things we love destroy us every time, lad. Remember that."
Fairies are one of the oldest race of beings in Arda -once they called Numenór home- but Arethusa watched as the sea claimed the island from the helm of a ship as the survivors fled to...
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THORIN was led away from the company but Arethusa trailed alongside the blond elf. "Legolas?" He looked down at the small woman who had spoken his name, "Legolas Greenleaf!" She smiled and while the dwarves were being led to the dungeons the elf and fairy had stopped. "I have not seen you since you were this high," the fairy held her hand up to where her shoulder was, "Causing trouble for your father and running off into the woods."
He looked at her skeptically, "Who are you?"
For a brief second, the fairy did a slight curtsy, "I am Arethusa of Númenórë. I knew your grandfather and I know your father." Legolas could not remember ever being in the company of such a short creature, yet her mannerisms amused him. She had the bearing of nobility despite her appearance and the company she kept. "How do I know you are not lying?" She almost laughed at his uncertainty.
"On your right calf, you have a scar there from when you were young. It was I who healed it. Your mother, Ithilwen, birthed you on a spring evening. Lord Elrond sent me with two short fighting blades as a gift for the young elven prince. Galion was who first taught you to hold a bow properly when your father was too busy to show you. Would you like me to continue?" The fairy was still smiling, it grew tenfold when she noticed the pale wooden hilts of two blades strapped to his back, alas he had grown into Elrond's gift.
Legolas shook his head, there was a part of him that was shocked to hear his mother's name spoken aloud. Since her death, no one had dared speak her name aloud within the stone halls for fear of risking the wrath of Thranduil. "No, what is it you wish?" A strange fondness had already formed within him.
"Allow me to speak to your father. There are dark forces at work in this world that he must know of." The same dark forces that she had not seen since the last time Sauron held dominion over Middle Earth. The elf prince nodded, "Very well." She followed him back up the winding paths and as she approached the raised platform where the throne sat Thorin was being drugged away by two guards. Arethusa looked on, her face a strange mask of emotion.
Thranduil's baritone voice echoed off stone pillars, "Long has it been since a fairy was present within these halls. What are you doing traveling with dwarves, Arethusa?" Despite the anger lurking within him from his encounter with the dwarf king, he remained suspiciously calm.
"If their cause was not noble I would not have joined them, but I did not wish to speak to you of dwarves." He raised a single prominent eyebrow and sat back in his throne, from there she looked nothing more than a small child, insignificant. "When is the last time you ventured out of these stone halls, Thranduil? Do you even realize what has become of the Greenwood? You have even allowed Ithilwen's statue to be disgraced by evil." It pained her just to think that her friend's memory had been tainted.
Thranduil stood from his throne, hands pulled into fists, his face was a mask of both anger and pain. "Do not speak her name!"
Arethusa stepped back at his outburst, clearly affected but her composure returned. Violet eyes looked up, her own rage was bubbling within. "You sit within these halls and do nothing, have you no care for other lands?" Her voice cracked, seeing the Greenwood in such a state had truly hurt.
