Disclaimer: I bothered to write this in chapters one, two and three so be a dear and check there if you're curious
Chapter Six^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^
So enveloped in their grief and the shattering of their world as they knew it were the two friends that they did not notice a silent figure watching them in the shadows. Hazel eyes glowed, drinking in the sadness they radiated. Satisfied, the figure slipped like an arrow through the hedges, and retreated towards the path.
The shadow failed to notice a taller figure coming to take it's place, but satisfied was not the feeling he felt as he watched the pair not with hazel eyes, but eyes of deep ocean.
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Fiothiel was shocked at how normally things went on in Rivendell just the morning after. The garden terrace was spotlessly clean, but emulated a sterile sadness that sank in to whoever dared pass the roses, which seemed to have faded from a vibrant red to a dull rust, drained.
Her handmaiden, Anelith, informed her quietly that she was expected at the archery grounds as soon as possible. Fiothiel nodded, wondering who would instruct her. Isorfir? Surely not, they would not dare put the two of them together, besides she had bid him a tearful goodbye this morning, she remembered it clearly:
"Be brave, 'Thiel. There is nothing that we can't get through together, hmm? I surely would have fallen apart without you… don't play any pranks without me." He said this jovially, but tears leaked down his cheeks as he leaned off his horse to kiss her gently on the cheek. Accompanied by some other guards, he was to escort the body of his beloved sister back to his family in Mirkwood.
As he bent to brush a kiss against her cheek, she grabbed him by the collar and whispered fiercely in his ear:
"I will find whoever committed this atrocity, Iso, and I swear that on my life and yours. Go in peace, elen sila lumen omentilmo."
She released him, and he rode off, iron laced up his spine, a true Royal Guard.
Fiothiel remembered all the times they had laughed together, when they thought all good would remain.
Never again would she let her defenses down.
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She walked silently to the archery range, her eyes straight ahead, mind somewhere in the clouds. What was she to do without Isorfir? She wondered if her instructor knew of her mistake just the day before.
She stopped as she realized that he was the "trespasser" of the day before.
Resigned to her fate, she stepped towards him and curtsied. "Prince Legolas, am I correct in assuming that you are appointed to assist me in my battle skills?"
He turned, not expecting her for the second time, she was indeed a true elf, soft of step. The events of the day before had drained her of her spark, the spirit that he had so fleetingly glimpsed the day before, in the soft hours of the morning, untainted by something so many wished to forget.
He blinked slowly, then spoke. "Shall we begin?"
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