Shadow Hunter-LegolasxOC

04: For the Future (Edited)

Varilerin realised she could easily walk the next day and, just like children of her age, she took this opportunity to leave her bed and ease her body. Thoughts of her vision had plagued her whenever she was awake, She was dying to seek Lord Elrond's advice, but their meeting was prolonged, much to her dismay.

She opened the door and glanced around. She sensed that no Elves were present in the corridors, which was a relief because she did not want to be reprimanded for scurrying around. Slowly, she sneaked out of her room, closing the door without sound. The cold night breeze caressed her skin and she shivered. She had no specific direction in her steps, and she let her heart decide, just like back in the forest. Only her footsteps echoed, their sounds like silent melody in the dead of the night.

Although she grew up in Rivendell, she had not actually spent too much time instead. The corridors felt familiar yet distant, decorated with paintings she had never noticed. The sculptures were regularly maintained, showing figures of heroes of old, who fought in the gruesome war of the Second Age. She even saw Glorfindel's statue, furtively placed beneath the trees.

What caught her eye, however, was the paintings hung on the walls, leading to a small garden where the moonlight suffused in the air. Her eyes directed her to one larger painting hung opposite a grey stone pedestal. It depicted, rather beautifully, a man fighting a dark figure looming in the horizon. A broken sword was in his hand, but despite its deformity it shone as brilliantly as the stars. Atop the stone pedestal was the very same sword, with its shattered pieces aligned to provide a glimpse of its previous glory.

"They are the shards of Narsil, the sword which cut the Ring off Sauron's hands," abruptly a deep voice boomed. Varilerin instinctively leapt back, slamming against one of the statues. "it's me, Varilerin. There is nothing to fear." Elrond walked out of the darkness, his stern face as always hinting kindness and wisdom.

Varilerin drew a deep breath, relieved that it was not another Orc. Elrond frowned, knowing that the youngling was still deeply affected by her first battle. Perhaps if he had not identified himself, she would snatch the shards of Narsil and impaled his chest with them.

"What are you doing out of your room at this time?" Elrond questioned her carefully.

"I cannot sleep, My Lord. I feel restless," she admitted hesitantly, slightly avoiding Elrond's gaze.

"I have heard of your vision," Elrond said. "Have you experienced it prior to this event?"

Varilerin immediately shook her head. "No, my lord. Not a single second in my life." She paused, fiddling with her fingers. "Do you know what caused this, my lord?"

It was one of the greatest mysteries he encountered. A simple answer would be, that she inherited her gift from her parents-even that, he was unsure, for the works of the Valar was beyond mortal understanding. Gifts of foresight were only received by high Elves of old, and none outside their line had such a talent.

"I am afraid I cannot give you the answer," Elrond shamefully admitted. As usual, she appeared neither disdained nor shocked, only nodding in acknowledgement. Elrond pitied her, for she had so many uncertainties laid before her. "However, one thing I am certain. You have a precious gift, my child. To see the future and the dangers it bears certainly will be useful in the times to come."

Varilerin's face paled. "You heard what happened, my lord," Varilerin argued politely. "I foresaw the attack, yet I could not prevent it."

Elrond took a step closer. He stirred to the painting of Isildur, remembering the day he had persuaded him to destroy the Ring. "We see many things, many possibilities, but only Eru decides our fate. For that, we can only accept, and walk our paths."