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CHAPTER FOUR
COUNCIL PT. 1

Nesryn broke through the door's gate again, it leaving a temporary ringing in the ears of elven maiden that was just been passing there. The fair elf tried not to find Nesryn's presence disturbing to Rivendell, for she was known as nothing more but ill news. Many days she had spent with Nashton in that elven kingdom, she had almost set the library of most precious and old book on fire, and disrespected the will of its lord, Elrond by leaving despite his reasons that only meant protection in the times of Smaug, greatest of all calamities as Bilbo Baggins had called him.

Nesryn ignored the unapproving gazes she had been getting as she skipped step after step up another stairway, and toward the upper chambers somewhere between all intertwined tree branches and flowers. She soon found herself near its brown doors, carved between two separate wood planks were many shapes and letters she had no knowledge of. Breathing in, she had let warm, autumn air fill her lungs, right before she pushed open the door.

Interior was as beautiful as the space outside, littered with designs, flowers and lines that stood curled in many different shapes and circles that made the ceiling. It smelled of bright mornings, just after the dew had already dried off and as leaves have started to send the fresh smell of earthiness. There was no bed, for the elven lord whose the room was needed no sleep whatsoever, as the floor was packed with bookshelves and studies, chairs and desks of pure pine.

"Nesryn, for it may not be a pleasure to see you, yet I am glad to find you alive." Dressed in robe from his shoulders, that slightly dragged after every slow and calculated step the elf had taken, young woman found lord Elrond's quite dismissive gaze as he appeared behind a row of yet another packed bookshelf.

"Lord Elrond, it is in past, yet the future is now hanging by a thread." Nesryn whirled toward the window, watching from above as she noticed a white horse rushed between the gates. Her keen eye, however could not distinguish who the rider was, yet of the hurry she guessed it might be Arwen.

"The Ring, it has been on your mind of late." Lord Elrond fell in step with her, gazing at the world outside in many, yet none fearful ways.

"Yes, perhaps it is time to make our choice." Nesryn answered solemnly, hoping Strider and three Hobbits have made it out safe.

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Nesryn had spent days in Rivendell, hoping and aimlessly striding alongside its clear river banks and through bushes as she felt a presence follow every step she made. Never she walked without her golden daggers, not in any place no matter the safety, no matter the protection elves offered could she be found unprotected. The black glove she had put on, that masked her fingers tightly gripped the golden dagger as she whirled back and sent the blade flying into the tree too close to facial features of her follower.

There stood an ellon. Tall and beyond fair, as he was considered one of the fairest in Mirkwood. Strands of his blond hair rippled as river on afternoon sun, blue eyes a perfect match to his paleness. Yet, of how stunned the ellon looked, Nesryn was sure he wasn't as scared, for it was obvious he had lived a fair amount of time.

Nesryn's lips curled into a careful smile of sorts, that tapped at the corners of her mouth. "Legolas Thranduilion. It has been sixty years." She stood her ground, only the ellon took another step as his eyes, ocean blue if one was to look closely inspected the blade that nearly killed him.

"It has, Nesryn. I would perhaps be a liar if I told you your surprise visit hasn't been the turn of tides." Gracefully, he swept the blade out of a tree trunk, balancing it as his eyes burned with a sudden desire for edenonian gold in his hand. In past happenings, many had fallen pray to the desire for such material, especially the one of great past coming from the edenonian mines.

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