The Exile's Daughter

Small Comfort

Hours later I found myself sitting in one of the many gardens in Imladris, curled up on the grass. I had chosen this place for its seclusion, for no sound except the trickling of a leaf-shaped fountain could be heard in all the green about me. It was mid-afternoon already, and I'd wrapped my cloak securely around me in the chilly winter air.

I thumbed through the book on my lap for what seemed like the 10,000th time, not taking in a word. Eventually, giving up, I found myself staring blankly at the grass.

The things I had been told had settled a stone-like weight onto my heart, so much that it was hard to breathe. Firstly, my father was a son of Fëanor. Secondly, I was the granddaughter of that skilled and terrible lord, and thirdly, this meant I had to repay what my father and grandfather had done by helping to banish Sauron from Arda utterly, with men at my side.

Even though I had been given the choice to repay in part the heavy debt set by my family, resentment crawled in like a nit. It should not be me doing this – it should be my father! What had I ever done to deserve the risk of death and maiming this weight had set? Yet, I could see no alternative – it was right that I fight for good, because my father had so often fought for greed instead. Would the sons of Fëanor have helped rid Middle Earth of Morgoth if the silmarils had never been stolen? I greatly doubted it. Their deeds had not been brought on by kindness or valour, but mine, it seemed, must be done for just that reason.

I looked up as I heard light footsteps, and a cloak rustling through the grass. My eyes landed on the back of an elf walking alone in the gardens. Even though the clothes were far finer than they had been when we were travelling, it only took me a second to realise who it was.

"Legolas?" I called quietly, not wanting to startle him. He was staring straight and seemed deep in thought. However, at my voice he turned. For a second, I could see his face as it evidently had been before – his jaw was clenched, and he was frowning slightly, his eyes cast down. A split second later, however, he smiled.

"There you are", he said. "I have not seen you all day."

"I took some time to think." I muttered, not meeting his eyes.

"Have you eaten?"

"Not since breakfast".

Legolas rolled his eyes, and disappeared for a few minutes, eventually coming back with a basket full of fresh fruit, cheese and bread. In his other hand he carried a bottle of wine.

"You are supposed to be on four meals a day at least", he fussed, putting the basket in front of me. I took something to eat, more for his benefit than because I was hungry, and he sat opposite me, uncorking the wine and taking two glasses from the basket.

"Might this help?"

I chuckled under my breath. "I daresay it will cloud my thoughts, but I think that may be a relief today."

Legolas handed me a glass of the deep red liquid and I took a sip, enjoying its sweet, intense flavour. I took more food, too, heeding Legolas' advice, knowing that I should be eating as much as possible. There were some slices of salted meat in the basket, so I nibbled on one, following it with an apple and some more cheese.

"Something is troubling you, my lady" Legolas said quietly. "Would it not ease your mind to share it?"

"You don't have to call me lady" I smiled slightly. "No-one does, but you and Aragorn especially. You helped me when I was no more than a frightened child in a torn dress."

"Everyone has been told to call you that, but I suppose if you say we are not to, then I'll call you Nesseldë still. We were glad to help you in your need, but you seem to have aged a thousand years since last night."