The next day Kathryn was up early. Although the bed had been welcome, it
was soon becoming a prison rather than a comfort. She carefully eased
herself out of bed and walked slowly through one of the archways to an open-
air balcony. Sunlight and air swept to her and she smiled, looking down to
the courtyard below. Several elves walked among the alternate trees and
architecture tended by the Fair Folk. They were in groups or pairs, talking
earnestly of something of significant importance to worry them so. Frowning
Kathryn contemplated what it might be, surely all of Rivendell did not know
of the Ring?
However her thoughts were soon drawn away from those puzzling currents. A group of dwarves were arriving in Rivendell, perhaps a further cause for interest.
Eagerly, Kathryn dressed in the red dress still laid out for her. She noticed with surprise that it was custom made, the skirts dissected to enable freedom of movement. Ready, she left her chambers, finally free from the cursed bed. Everywhere was quiet, not tensely silent, but interrupted with snatches of a waterfalls hushed melody, or a bird's praise for the day. The corridors with long open windows were alive with growth and golden sunlight.
She did not know where she was going. Her feet took her out into the courtyard and gardens. For a while she simply sat by a fountain, teasing the water with a finger; content. Her heart swelled with happiness just to be back in this place of peace and joy. Until it burst into song, streaming out her mouth and mingling with the enchantment of the air around her. No words were formed, save in the song itself that could not be mistaken for anything but how she felt at that moment.
Another voice weaved around her melody, providing a lower earthier counterbalance to her ethereal harmony. They sang on together for a long time, until Kathryn consciously noticed the presence of another. She stopped, although holding back her song felt like caging a wild bird. Unable to see the stranger, she sat where she was, waiting for him to speak.
"Mae govannen linnol hiril (Greetings singing lady). I lir lîn luitha 'uren (Your song enchants my heart)."
"Hennaid (Thanks)." He was standing right behind her now. Rising as gracefully as she could, she turned to face her mysterious accompaniment.
"Legolas?"
"Kathryn?" They both started at once. Grimacing, they then laughed.
"Laugar nin gur ceni lin (It warms my heart to see you)!" He announced, then his face grew serious. "Lastach i siniath doll? I harn perian an in edhel tegiel aen si maithol dan in Ulaer! Harthon nestatha hain (Have you heard the dark tidings? A hobbit and an elf were brought here, wounded fighting against the Ringwraiths! I hope they will be healed)." He lowered his voice. "I heard Elrond mention a thing called 'Isildur's Bane'. Have you heard of this?"
Kathryn pushed the shadows that had been forming out of her mind with a forced smile. "I doubt today is a day for speaking of such things, Legolas." She felt a little weary now. "I am sorry, but if you will excuse me." Turning, she felt a sharp spasm of pain in her side that forced her to her knees.
Concerned, Legolas rushed to her side. "What is wrong?" Unable to answer, Kathryn gasped for air. Legolas carefully laid her against the fountain's side, sensitive fingers feeling the side that she clutched. "You are wounded!" He exclaimed, blue eyes confused.
Regaining a little breath she answered him, "Yes, I was the 'elf' brought in with the hobbit." Ashamed of her weakness, she tried to push him aside, but her arms could not have banished a butterfly. Her brown eyes appealed helplessly up at his face. Grinning, Legolas picked her up in his arms and, under her insistent directions, carried her to her rooms.
Welcome company, Legolas stayed by her bed with her, entertaining her with tales of Mirkwood and humorous events in King Thranduil's court. Laughing was the best cure for the ice cold in her side, eventually exhausting her to sleep.
Legolas watched her while she was sleeping, seeing the younger, more naïve and innocent Kathryn he had duelled with that late night some twenty years ago. Little time for elves, but even though she was immortal also he could see the toll those years had taken on her. Those cares, despite not being manifested as lines or as grey hairs instead in her eyes and the very aura of life she gave off, were lifted by sleep. In sleep, she was no longer the towering sorceress, nor the fierce rangeress, fighting against the world. She was at peace. Moonlight through the windows soothed her hardened features. Leaning forward, he kissed her forehead, and she murmured in her sleep like a half-woken child. Then she smiled and sank deeply once more in to Sleep's comforting arms.
However her thoughts were soon drawn away from those puzzling currents. A group of dwarves were arriving in Rivendell, perhaps a further cause for interest.
Eagerly, Kathryn dressed in the red dress still laid out for her. She noticed with surprise that it was custom made, the skirts dissected to enable freedom of movement. Ready, she left her chambers, finally free from the cursed bed. Everywhere was quiet, not tensely silent, but interrupted with snatches of a waterfalls hushed melody, or a bird's praise for the day. The corridors with long open windows were alive with growth and golden sunlight.
She did not know where she was going. Her feet took her out into the courtyard and gardens. For a while she simply sat by a fountain, teasing the water with a finger; content. Her heart swelled with happiness just to be back in this place of peace and joy. Until it burst into song, streaming out her mouth and mingling with the enchantment of the air around her. No words were formed, save in the song itself that could not be mistaken for anything but how she felt at that moment.
Another voice weaved around her melody, providing a lower earthier counterbalance to her ethereal harmony. They sang on together for a long time, until Kathryn consciously noticed the presence of another. She stopped, although holding back her song felt like caging a wild bird. Unable to see the stranger, she sat where she was, waiting for him to speak.
"Mae govannen linnol hiril (Greetings singing lady). I lir lîn luitha 'uren (Your song enchants my heart)."
"Hennaid (Thanks)." He was standing right behind her now. Rising as gracefully as she could, she turned to face her mysterious accompaniment.
"Legolas?"
"Kathryn?" They both started at once. Grimacing, they then laughed.
"Laugar nin gur ceni lin (It warms my heart to see you)!" He announced, then his face grew serious. "Lastach i siniath doll? I harn perian an in edhel tegiel aen si maithol dan in Ulaer! Harthon nestatha hain (Have you heard the dark tidings? A hobbit and an elf were brought here, wounded fighting against the Ringwraiths! I hope they will be healed)." He lowered his voice. "I heard Elrond mention a thing called 'Isildur's Bane'. Have you heard of this?"
Kathryn pushed the shadows that had been forming out of her mind with a forced smile. "I doubt today is a day for speaking of such things, Legolas." She felt a little weary now. "I am sorry, but if you will excuse me." Turning, she felt a sharp spasm of pain in her side that forced her to her knees.
Concerned, Legolas rushed to her side. "What is wrong?" Unable to answer, Kathryn gasped for air. Legolas carefully laid her against the fountain's side, sensitive fingers feeling the side that she clutched. "You are wounded!" He exclaimed, blue eyes confused.
Regaining a little breath she answered him, "Yes, I was the 'elf' brought in with the hobbit." Ashamed of her weakness, she tried to push him aside, but her arms could not have banished a butterfly. Her brown eyes appealed helplessly up at his face. Grinning, Legolas picked her up in his arms and, under her insistent directions, carried her to her rooms.
Welcome company, Legolas stayed by her bed with her, entertaining her with tales of Mirkwood and humorous events in King Thranduil's court. Laughing was the best cure for the ice cold in her side, eventually exhausting her to sleep.
Legolas watched her while she was sleeping, seeing the younger, more naïve and innocent Kathryn he had duelled with that late night some twenty years ago. Little time for elves, but even though she was immortal also he could see the toll those years had taken on her. Those cares, despite not being manifested as lines or as grey hairs instead in her eyes and the very aura of life she gave off, were lifted by sleep. In sleep, she was no longer the towering sorceress, nor the fierce rangeress, fighting against the world. She was at peace. Moonlight through the windows soothed her hardened features. Leaning forward, he kissed her forehead, and she murmured in her sleep like a half-woken child. Then she smiled and sank deeply once more in to Sleep's comforting arms.