I did not create Middle Earth/Arda, Green Wood the Great/Mirkwood, Imladirs/Rivendell, Glorfindel, Elrond, Estel/Aragorn, or Legolas. I did create Legolas' little sister Rhovamil, Rhovamil's old nurse Mellolaes, Mellolaes' father Arathrad, Mellolaes' brother Sadorchyl, Mellolaes' twin cousins Anduant and Adulas, and Filiton.

This story is strictly for entertainment purposes only, so please read and be entertained. :)

Hi there, sorry this update took me so long. I have been kept busy by other things of late. The last two chapters got rather heavy, and I plan on letting the next few coming up to be so as well. So, I thought I would let this one be a lighter break between them.

Filiton's presence cheered Mellolaes. He had become almost as dear to her as Rhovamil herself since arriving at the palace as an elfling. The Half-Sindar had been an almost perfect foil for the King's daughter. The other elfling had both followed and outdone her in everything, which had infuriated the small royal. Mellolaes and his mother had often had to pull them apart. With the elflings spending so much time together, only days had passed before the nurse's soul was knit up in her charge's playmate. So, Filiton's unlooked for and novel presence distracted Mellolaes from her dire surroundings, for a time. By noon, though, she wanted to scream.

The sun should have been a comfort as well as a protection. The blazing light filtered through even the strangling vines, briars, mosses, and parasitic mushrooms coating the dying trees. However, the heat of midday also called forth the full stench of death hanging over everything. The elleth's lungs and spirit were being suffocated.

"Did wounded goblins from the battle keel over all along here?"

Adulas grinned

"They would have."

Anduant nodded.

"If they had been able to do so."

Filiton spoke without cheer.

"But they did not."

Legolas sighed.

"The deepest area of the dying woods always smells like this at midday. I had hoped when we started out from the palace to be farther along at this hour."

Mellolaes grimaced and blushed recalling why they had been delayed. Arathrad looked back over his shoulder at her. His stare swept up and down his daughter's face and form. Then he looked forward to their road again.

"We are going beyond the bounds of the path I am familiar with. You must switch places with me, Thrandulion."

Legolas hastened his steps passing the older elf and taking the point position of the group. Arathrad dropped back to walk alongside his daughter. The Silvan pulled out his bottle of water and held it out to Mellolaes.

"Drink."

The elleth's mouth curled into a grimace. A gag tightened her throat at the thought of opening her mouth in this place. Even the idea of water sloshing in her stomach made it turn. Her lips moved as little as possible while she replied.

"No, thank you, ada."

The elf did not withdraw the offered bottle.

"Drink."

Mellolaes' shoulders slumped. She took the container from him, tilted her chin up, and parted her lips just slightly before sticking the spout between them. She swallowed a few mouthfuls, jerked it out, pursed her lips, and screwed the lid back on as fast as her hand could move. Then she handed it back to her father. He took it.

"I will not make you eat until we reach the dead woods, but you will not fast from water while walking all day."

Mellolaes' face twisted into a sickened expression, but she nodded.

"Yes sir."

. . .

Estel stared at the greens on his plate. Elrond would not have commented on this except the manling had been staring, rather than eating, for a number of minutes. The Half-elf stared across the table.

"Eat your food, Estel."

The youth sighed. He stabbed a leaf with his fork, stuck it into his mouth, and munched with the thoughtfulness of a cow chewing cud. Elrond studied his son.

"Estel, why do you act as though you are ill?"

"I'm not hungry, Ada."

"So it would seem. You are also not sick."

Estel shrugged. Long ago, or so it seemed to him, he had learned something. There was no use fibbing about your health to a healer with two ages of medical experience. The manling remained silent, forcing Elrond to speak again.

"Are you tired after your nightmare?"

"No."

"Are you certain? You seem lethargic."

"M' sure."

Elrond sighed. Lack of appetite and energy could only have so many causes in manlings. If it was neither illness nor lack of sleep, it was depression. An unfortunate thing about depression was it could have many causes and few cures. The Half-elf thought he could guess the cause of this particular bout in his son, though.

"Is this about the nurse?"

Estel scowled. With one straight, deep blow of his fork, he stabbed through a good many leaves and other vegetables.

"I don't want to talk about her."

"I do. I believe we have given you a bad impression of the elleth."

Estel stuffed his mouth full. Then he sat back in his chair and chewed with his mouth closed, but very noisily inside his own head. In response, Elrond raised his eyebrows and voice.

"She is young for an elleth, ancient to human beings, but very young compared to me, young even compared to your brothers. She is even younger than Legolas."

Estel stopped chewing, swallowed, and cocked his head.

"Is she younger than Alphtithen?"

Elrond blinked.

"Well, no, she is older than our youngest servant."

"Alphtithen, looks at me kinda funny and hurries by when we pass in the hall."

Elrond squirmed in his chair before noticing he was doing so. The elven lord then straightened and stilled. He stared at his empty plate wishing something remained on it for him to pick at.

"I see."

Estel nodded.

"She's done that since I threw up on her."

Elrond's eyes slid closed.

"Yes, I was told of that. However, we are not discussing Alphtithen. We are discussing your nurse."

"Is she pretty?"

"Well, I imagine so, perhaps not as fair as most of the elleth here, but she is kind."

"Who says?"

Elrond's gaze snapped up. He raised one warning eyebrow at his son, but answered with an even and smooth voice.

"Legolas, and The Lady Galadriel."

Estel cocked his head in thought.

"Did she ever look after them when they were little?"

The desire to squirm again ran through The Lord of Rivendell.

"No."

"Then how would they know?"

"Galadriel saw her befriend a homesick elfling of Lothlorien and Legolas' little sister Rhovamil was watched over by her when she was an elfling."

Estel's eyes widened.

"The archer-lady who calls me 'bug'?"

Elrond lowered his forehead into the heel of his hand. He concentrated on not releasing the groan welling up in his chest.

"That was . . . a term of endearment, Estel."

Estel stabbed another piece of lettuce with less vigor than before seeming to consider these new facts.

"Legolas' sister didn't like me much at first, but she was really fun." The manling looked up at his ada. "Couldn't she be my nurse, instead?"

Elrond's eyes widened. His face lengthened in horror. He relived the moment of seeing Queen Lathwinn's daughter leaping from the third highest waterfall in Imladris aiming for a pool with a diameter not as long as she was tall. She had been clutching his brother's last heir in her arms.

Afterwards, Legolas had apologized profusely. He had turned his back upon them for just a moment. Even he had not guessed what was on his sister's mind when he heard her ask his young, mortal friend if he "wanted to do something fun."

Rhovamil had not seen the problem. Legolas had jumped out of nearly as tall trees holding her when she was about the same size. There had only been thick piles of leaves for them to land in.

That was the last time The Lord of Rivendell had left her and her brother alone with his mortal son. The Half-elf blinked. His mind had returned to the present.

"No, Estel, I don't think that would be wise. Besides, I believe Rhovamil said she found the Hidden Valley 'boring' on her last visit."

Estel huffed and stuck the lettuce leaf into his mouth.

"She's right."

Elrond pursed his lips and contemplated whether or not to let that pass.

. . .

"You visited Rivendell once, did you not Filliton?"

Mellolaes glanced back at the elf. She had begun to get used to the new level of stink in her surroundings. The elleth now felt the need to break the monotony of the journey. Filiton grinned at her.

"I did visit with Legolas twice, and Legolas and Rhovamil once."

The elf leading them sighed.

"It is like pulling arrows out of a live orc trying to get my sister to visit Imladris with me."

His sister's old nurse chuckled.

"Well, Rhovamil did once tell me she was bored while we sat under a berry bush in a thunderstorm."

Filiton's brows drew together in puzzlement.

"I do not recall that. Was I with you both then?"

Mellolaes shook her head.

"No, she was only five at the time."

One of the twins turned his head towards his cousin.

"Centuries?"

The other twin looked to her too.

"Decades?"

Mellolaes smiled.

"Years."

Filiton and Legolas burst into laughter. The twins joined them. Sadorchyl bowed his head and shook it to hide his smile. The eldest elf among them lifted his face and flung open hands up towards the sky.

"Valar, please watch over all the steps of the Queen's descendants. For they are as adventurous as she and far less wise."

So, Rhovamil somehow took over this chapter all the way from the Woodland Palace. If she keeps this up, I may have to give her her own story.

If you liked something please tell me, if you didn't like something you can say that too. Reviews are greatly appreciated and often responded to. :)

God Bless

ScribeofHeroes