Title: A Spark in the Dark

Author: Luinëturiel

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from Lord of the Rings. They belong to the wonderful J.R.R. Tolkien. Any other characters in this story, however, are mine.

A big 'Thank you!' to my dear beta reader Violet as well as to all my readers. You are great! :o)
@ mysticmoon: I chose to stick with British English in my writing, hence 'apologise' rather than 'apologize' (which is the American English spelling of the word). ;o)
@ PuterPatty (and everybody else who might have commented on this before): I'm overjoyed to hear that you like the way I write Legolas' voice. As I'm sure I've mentioned once or twice, I hate writing dialogue, so I'm extremely happy if you say he sounds true to his character and 'elfy'. I just love that expression! lol
@ bchan: Do you think that it is pity Legolas feels for Thalwyn? Hmm...I'm not too sure about that. Like THEwriter Lioness remarked in her last review, he does realise that she is capable of getting along without much help. Ah well, but I guess we'll come back to that later on in the story anyway. ;o)

But now on with the new chapter; Thalwyn is 'Meeting the Host'.
Enjoy!

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A Spark in the Dark

15 Thalwyn: Meeting the Host

As soon as I confirm that I am ready to go in, Legolas opens the door to the Great Hall. As I had silently hoped, hardly anybody appears to take notice of our entrance, for the merry talk and chatter does not stop when we step into the Great Hall.

It must be a large room indeed, to tell from the acoustics.

"Lord Elrond would like us to sit with him." Legolas' voice is barely above a whisper when he speaks to me. "I suggest we walk over to his table."

And so I let him lead me across the room, past groups of people talking in lively conversation. I do not intentionally try to pick up anything of what is being said, but I notice that some of the people we walk past speak in the same melodious tongue I heard Legolas and his companions use. Elvish. Others use the Common Tongue, while yet another group of people speak in a language I have never heard before. It is a language that fits their voices – gruff and grim; almost...terrifying.

I am just beginning to wonder what strange folk is assembled in this Hall, when Legolas and I  come to a halt. Right in front of us, a chair slides across the floor with a faint creaking sound, and then a soft voice addresses me.

"Welcome to Rivendell, Thalwyn." The words are accompanied by a faint rustling of clothes and a hand gently settling on my shoulder.

"Thank you, Your Highness." I reply, assuming that it is Lord Elrond who is speaking to me. Recalling what little I know about etiquette, I lift the skirt of my dress in order to curtsey – only to find two strong hands holding me upright at my upper arms.

"Do not curtsey before me, Thalwyn. It is not customary in these Halls." I can feel a rush of heat sneaking up my neck at Lord Elrond's words, but already the Elf Lord goes on, "But please – Thalwyn, Legolas, have a seat."

Legolas offers a chair to me, letting it scrape across the floor as he pulls it toward me, which helps me to locate it. I am positive that this was exactly his intention. With an inner smile, I walk around the wooden stool and take a seat.

As soon as I have settled at the table, Lord Elrond, who has taken a seat to my right, speaks to me again. "I hope your accommodations are to your liking, Thalwyn."

I can hardly suppress the urge to laugh.

To my liking? Now that is quite an understatement...

"It is, Your Highness. I dare say that have never slept in a more comfortable bed before." As I speak, my fingers start exploring the table in front of me in a well-studied dance.

Plate, fork, knife...

I heave a small sigh, then I go on, "How can I ever thank you? For everything – for taking me in, as well as for sending out the search party..."

"You are welcome, Thalwyn," my gracious host replies. "You seemed to be in dire need of help, so help is what I offered."

"For which I am very grateful. Thank you, Lord Elrond. I have never experienced such hospitality and kindness before."

I have just finished my last sentence, when Legolas draws my attention to him by offering a bowl of fruit to me. I pick some grapes from the wooden dish, then pass it on to Lord Elrond without even thinking. Too deep-rooted is the habit. Besides, the air of calmness that the Elf Lord seems to radiate has made me forget about my initial nervousness as soon as he first spoke to me.

Besides, even elven Lords have to eat, do they not?

And already Lord Elrond has accepted the bowl from my hands. "As you probably know, Thalwyn, Legolas has already told me what brought you near Rivendell as well as some things about yourself," he resumes our talk.

I simply nod to confirm his assumption. Legolas did not explicitly mention it to me, but I figured that he would pass on to my host what I told him.

"Would you mind if I asked you to tell me some more about yourself, then?" Lord Elrond continues, the tone of his voice making clear that he would understand if I objected.

"Of course not, Your Highness." I give an honest smile. "What is it that you would like to know?" I pick one of the grapes from my plate and begin to eat while I wait for my host to ask his first question.

"Tell me, Thalwyn, where did you learn to ride so well?" he inquires. "I hope you will not think me impolite when I say this, but I find it remarkable that a blind woman would take up riding."

My lips curve in a smile again at his careful choice of words. "We have always had horses, for work in the fields as well as occasionally pulling a cart, and I have always loved those gentle and charming creatures. I have never thought of taking up riding, though – not until Aldarida came to stay with us. She is a keen rider and insisted on teaching me...much to the dismay of my father." I cannot help but chuckle at the memory of my father trying to come up with plausible arguments against my learning how to ride.

"So your father eventually gave in?"

"Aye, he did. Though he watched my first riding lessons carefully. Whether he was more worried that our workhorses would throw me off or that they would run off with me, I cannot say for sure." Once more, a gentle laugh escapes me. "However, our horses seemed to enjoy the change from their dull daily work, and so the few times I did fall off a horse, it was my own fault entirely."

This even ensues a soft laugh from the Elf Lord at my side. "And apparently, those mishaps did not dishearten you..."

"Nay, quite the contrary." I shake my head, still smiling broadly. "Once Aldarida had convinced me that I could do it, I was determined not to disappoint her. Or my father, for that matter."

"From what I hear, he seems to be a very caring man," Lord Elrond remarks.

"Oh yes, he is – caring without being overly protective; I could not think of having a better father." And I mean it.

"I am convinced of that." I can almost hear the Elf Lord smile. After a short pause, in which I resume eating, he goes on, "Speaking of your father, Thalwyn...I have no doubt that he would like to see you return home soon."

Oh, so he wants me to leave...

The thought has barely taken shape in my mind when Lord Elrond continues, "Your horse is quite exhausted from your long and hard ride, though, so I suggest you stay until both you and your mare have recovered. For it will be a long ride back."

"Thank you, Your Highness," is all I manage to reply, my heart singing with joy at the thought of staying in this magical place for another day or two.

Although I would love to return home just as much. Father must be sick with worry...

"Do not worry about your father." Lord Elrond seems to have read my mind. "The party that I sent out will not only try to find out what has become of your sister, but also inform your father of what has happened, and that you are well and safe."

"But...but how?" I retort, baffled. "They do not even know where we live."

There is a slight hint of amusement in the voice of my host when he replies, "Rest assured that they will find your home. Would you not think that the men I sent to find signs of your sister's whereabouts will be capable of tracing back your horses' tracks to your home as well?"

It is hard to tell when I last felt that silly. "Oh, of course. I have no doubt that they will."

"But let us talk of more pleasant things," Lord Elrond quickly changes the subject. "Here, have you ever tasted elvish bread?" With those words, he carefully places a woven basket in my hand.

I accept the basket with a 'Thank you' and fish a slice of soft bread out of it. The bread is fresh, still slightly warm and smelling delicious. Once I have placed the slice on my plate, I turn to my left in order to pass the basket on to Legolas.

"Would you like some bread, Legolas?" I address him, not sure whether he is looking in my direction, since I have not heard a word from him for the past few minutes.

"Yes, thank you, Thalwyn," is all he says as he gingerly takes the breadbasket from my hands.

I wonder if he has been listening to my talk with Lord Elrond at all.

But if he had, he would surely have made one or the other comment, would he not?

Granted, I hardly know anything about the elven Prince, but he seems to be uncharacteristically silent during this morning meal.

I can hardly imagine that he refrains from joining the conversation out of mere politeness...

However, my ponderings are cut short by the Elf Lord to my right attracting my attention once more. "You should try some of these with the bread," he suggests, holding out yet another dish to me, which I accept gratefully.

And soon I find myself engrossed in another talk with my host while bowl after bowl of the most delicious dishes are being passed to and fro.