It was night outside when she awoke from a nightmare, already disappearing. The room she was in was dark save for a few candles burning. It mattered not for it felt as if the darkness was engulfing her and it was frightening. Panic set in. She had to escape!
A door opened to her far left to reveal an male elf entering the room. The first thing she noticed was his hair. In her eyes his silver hair appeared to sparkle in the dark. Centuries later she would admit it was the prettiest thing she had ever seen and still desperately wanting to touch it.
His blue eyes saw her sitting straight up in bed. Her entire five year old being radiated fear. A closer look into her blue, sky eyes revealed acute awareness, for which he was relieved to see. Strands of fiery red hair slipped across her face, offering some shelter from this stranger.
From the moment she had been brought to him, she had been nothing more than a living statue due to a traumatic experience. He had heard she was found in the forest, blood splattered on her. For three days she would either remain a statue or relive a nightmare, screaming, fighting against them, and attempting to run away.
It was told her family had been killed by orcs and she had been alone for two days. Any child would suffer greatly from the experience. His heart went out immediately to her.
By the end of that day she had at last succumb to exhaustion. Her mind and body could last no longer. Her body obtained a few scratches but her mind had not escaped wholly unscathed. Rest and healing was all she needed now. She had slept for a month. Most of that time was peaceful slumber, unlike the others where her mind was riddled with nightmares and she mumbled in her sleep.
"I am glad to see you awake. Did you sleep well?"
He walked toward her but stopped halfway when she scooted away from him. That fear in her eyes became stronger. A tiny whimper escaped.
"My name is Nestor, tithen pen. I will not harm you. You are safe here."
Another attempt was made to near her but she nearly fell off the bed to create more distance. His heart broke to see her in such a state. So lost and frightened. It was not only these but also pain. Pain that was seen deep within those eyes. Twas the same that possessed Thranduil and Legolas. Pain at the loss of a loved one.
Those two were still mending from the loss of the beautiful Sylvana of Greenwood. Three years since that terrible massacre. The entire kingdom also suffered greatly. The joyous spirit she had spread throughout the kingdom was gone. Hardly was any laughter heard nowadays. The king and little prince had no smiles.
"I understand. I will sit over here then and not get closer."
He moved toward a window to sit at one of the chairs surrounding a small table. Her eyes watched his every minuscule move. Nothing occurred as minutes turned into hours. Simply watching and waiting. Fear and calm.
Nestor was able to gather some information about his patient. Her eyes revealed it all, the window to her soul. Nothing was withheld. Plain for all to see. The fear he had been seeing was correctly interpreted yet not. She was further lost and wounded than he originally believed. Her eyes spoke of fear of what she had witnessed but that was nothing compared to the fear that she knew not what was happening around her, of what happened. She was coming to know that she lost something terribly important, her memory. No, she couldn't focus on this as she was in the presence of someone in an unknown location. First objection was to protect.
"Sleep, little one," he at last spoke knowing she should return to resting.
His soft, coaxing voice had her body relaxing despite her vigilante watch. Her head shot up when it nodded down but sleepiness was drowning her troubles momentarily. Slumber beckoned the little one back into its warm embrace, promising a world without nightmares. Defeated, she slumped into what should have been the mattress and met air, soon bound for the floor.
Nestor sped for the child in hopes to catch her in time. Luckily his position had been but close. With the child safely in his arms, he managed to pull back the covers and place her comfortably back on the bed with the blanket proceeding. Her hair was brushed back from her face.
In the morning he would have to report that she had at last woken. He sighed. Things might get a little chaotic from now on. Perhaps he should make sure no one comes to her. Her fear was great with simply him in the room. What would happen if others suddenly appeared?
Faervel and Meluinir had often come to check if she fared well, feeling they were responsible for her since they had found her with Lord Thranduil. It was perhaps they that prevented the little one to fade. They would come to sing and speak to her. Comforting her and promising that they would do all sorts of things when she awoke.
The six year old prince had ventured in as well when he overheard the two soldiers speaking of her. His visits were not as often but he took a genuine interest in her. Learning what happened to her, Nestor was actually surprised to watch Legolas comforting her and telling her that he lost his nana. Each visit the prince made, the darkness within his own soul lightened a little. He was at last opening himself to someone, even though that person was asleep.
His majesty, Lord Thranduil, had also made several visits since her coming. Mostly he would sit by her side or watch from a distance. Nestor would give the reports and be dismissed. One time his son actually dragged him there to visit the girl.
Nestor looked one last time at her. The candles were blown out and he left.
Yay! My Elvies are making their appearances! I own none of the characters save, Dinenloth, Nestor and his sparkly hair, Faervel, and Meluinir. Faervel and Meluinir will make an appearance in the next chapter and so will Legolas(as a child)!
Forgive me of any poor Elvish. Please tell me if I used the wrong words. I won't be using a lot of it, just few here and there. *sigh* Such a lovely language . . . be nice to speak it :)
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