SA 500
Thranduil enjoyed his time in Lindon. As of recently, his father had asked him if he would like to accompany him on the journey to find a realm to call their own, in which Thranduil responded by saying he would like to stay with his fellow Sindar kinsmen for the time being and attempt to establish some sort of diplomatic relation that would be favorable to their future Kingdom, which, due to Thranduil's silver-tongue, was going quite well in his opinion.
Regularly, Thranduil was invited dine with Gil-galad and Círdan on a large balcony overlooking the sea. They would enjoy small cakes and other finger-foods, but unfortunately for Thranduil, the elves of Lindon considered the guilty pleasures of wine something to not be indulged in as often as their silver-haired guest would have hoped.
Since its establishment at the beginning of the age, Thranduil had been a frequent visitor to the city, mostly due to the sea. There were few things he loved more than the waves that weathered at the shores of Lindon. Many a day he would revel in the pleasantries the water had to offer and sit on the beaches, staring out at the distant horizon or enjoying small naps on the sand with the aid of the seabreeze lulling him to sleep.
Being one of the few practitioners of magic in Lindon, Nenthien had had a relatively simple life. There was rarely need for her assistance in any matters during these peaceful times, though it was well known throughout the seaside city that if you were to acquire a wound that was beyond your own abilities, to inquire with Nenthien, who would provide you with the proper herbs or her personal skills to help cure any ailments that were acquired.
Today, she walked along the beach as the sun was setting, letting her bare feet appreciate the warm sand beneath them, as she was careful not to step on the hem of her gown. Nenthien reached down to grab a shell that she spotted from the window of her home earlier to add to her ever growing collection. As she was straightening herself after acquiring the small object, she spotted the silhouette of a man on the opposite side of the beach. He sat with his legs out in front of him, seemingly entranced by the sea that his gaze was focused on. She watched him curiously as he didn't move for what seemed like hours.
Eventually, the oblivious man turned his head slightly in the direction of his observer. Nenthien could feel that he was staring back at her even though she couldn't see his eyes through the approaching dark, and embarrassed, she knelt down and returned to her searching in the sand, even though she knew well there were nothing there anymore.
Anything to get away from the burning glare of the man across the beach.