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.

I'm painfully aware how long it's been since I posted the last chapter of my story, and I hope you will forgive me. I just can't seem to keep to a regular posting schedule at the moment with all the other things I've got to do. Which makes me all the more happy about the wonderful emails and reviews that I got over the past weeks (or months, rather). Thank you all for not giving up on me, and let me assure you that I don't intend to give up on this story – no worries! ;o) And many thanks to Fiery Temper for doing the beta on this chapter. :o)

But I think I'll spare you any further babblings and leave you alone with Legolas and Thalwyn now. It's Thalwyn's turn again to tell us her version of the story.

Enjoy!

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A Spark in the Dark

17 Thalwyn: A Nudge and a Ruffle

Time seems to fly by during breakfast. I am more relaxed than I would have expected as I talk to Lord Elrond, and soon I find myself chattering away, giving lively accounts of some of my most cherished childhood memories. The Elf Lord does not seem to mind, however. Quite the contrary – I get the impression that my host enjoys being submitted to my silly ramblings; his interspersed questions leave little doubt that he is listening with genuine interest.

All too soon Lord Elrond gently squeezes my hand when I have just finished telling another anecdote. "It is a pleasure listening to your stories, Thalwyn, yet I am afraid I must leave you now. There are important matters that I must see to."

"Of course, Your Highness," I reply courtly; without doubt a man – or Elf, rather – in his position has many duties and obligations.­

"We will surely find another opportunity to talk," the Elf Lord assures me. He then slightly raises his voice – most likely to catch the attention of the Elf sitting so silently beside me – as he goes on, "But first, enjoy the walk around Rivendell that Prince Legolas has offered to give you." After a brief pause, he pats my forearm. "You will be in good hands, Thalwyn. Now, if you will excuse me? Legolas..."

His hand leaves my arm, and I hear the faint sound of his chair scraping across the floor as Lord Elrond stands. No matter how much I strain my ears, however, I cannot make out a single of his footfalls as he retreats from the table.

It really must be an Elvish thing – walking without so much as making any sound.

I turn in my seat to face Legolas...merely hoping that he is still there, for I have not heard a single word from him in quite a while. "This place is wonderful. All the people here are so wonderful and kind." Before I know it, a sigh has left my lips, but I could not care any less. And as was to be expected, my open display of admiration is being answered with a chuckle.

Well, it is good to know that Legolas has not vanished.

As a reply to my last remark about Rivendell, the Elven Prince once more assures me that I have yet to grasp the full beauty of this place, and I feel my heart pound eagerly against the confines of its bone cage in anticipation. Nevertheless, we both agree to finish breakfast first; I have hardly eaten anything yet, too engrossed have I been in the conversation with my host.

When my appetite has finally been sated, I allow myself to relax against the backrest of my chair with a sigh, placing a hand on my belly. "I think I could very well use a little walk now."

"Well, shall we go, then?" I hear Legolas rise from his chair and follow his example, only to find his outstretched arm waiting for me to take it.

"Thank you, Your Highness." My words are tinted with amusement as I find it impossible to resist calling the Elf by his official title, curling my fingers around his arm.

"Enjoy your look around," a voice pipes up that I easily recognise as that of Lord Elrond's daughter Arwen. She had not contributed much to the earlier conversation, but her father had briefly introduced me to her and her two brothers.

Talking of Lord Elrond's children – where have his sons gone?
Did they leave the Hall, together with their father?
And what were their names again? One of them was called Elrohir, if I am not mistaken. And the other? Ello... No. Ella...Elladan!

Since I am distracted for a moment recalling the names of Lord Elrond's sons, it is Legolas who replies to Arwen's words, "We surely will. Thank you, Lady Arwen." And already we make our way across the Great Hall once more, past the same agitated chit-chat and laughter that had lined our way on our entrance.

Once we have left the Hall, Legolas and I turn right. After just a few steps he informs me of a couple of stairs lying ahead of us. As careful as before, the Elf leads me up close to the first step, making sure that I am ready before we start the descent. To tell from the soft breeze that caresses my skin when I take the first step down, the stairs lead out into the open. And indeed, a few steps later, I feel sunrays warming my face, thus confirming my assumption.

The ground at the bottom of the stairs is notably warmer than the crafted stone we have been walking on before; however, the morning sun has not quite managed to fully heat the trampled earth yet. The path we now follow is well worn, only the occasional blade of grass tickling against the sensitive skin of my bare feet and ankles. With every step we take, the sound of the raging waters that I had already listened to the night before swells more and more.

"We are at the bank of the river Loudwater now," Legolas finally points out, at the same time bringing us both to a halt, "or Bruinen, as we Elves call it in our tongue."

Loudwater? Ah yes, the Loudwater runs down from the Misty Mountains.

I have never been this close to the river before, but at least I have a better idea now of where my flight has led me.

My flight.

I know I should not dwell on this too much, but unbidden memories of the incident start dancing in my mind all over again – the swishing sound of flying arrows, Aldarida's fear-filled cry...

"Loudwater is indeed a suiting name for this stream, is it not?" Legolas laughs gently, his soft voice breaking the dark spell my memories had just begun to weave around me. As I nod in reply, even managing to give him a smile, he goes on, "We can walk up closer to the nearby waterfall later on if you will, but I suggest we pay the stables a visit first and see how our horses fare, shall we? I promised that we would after breakfast."

My smile broadens at the thought of finally getting the opportunity to convince myself of Liorin's well-being personally. "To the stables it is, then."

We resume our walk, following the path that seems to run alongside the murmuring and gurgling river, and soon I pick up the faint scent of horses.

"There we are," Legolas announces only moments later.

As soon as we set foot into the stables, the warmth induced by the animals that are accommodated here engulfs me. Apart from the rustling and grinding sounds of some horses munching on their morning ration of hay and the river still murmuring in the background it is comfortably silent in here. None of the stable hands seem to be around at the moment. Having done their morning work, which would of course include feeding the horses, I would assume that they must be off to have their breakfast now.

I wonder how large the building is; how many horses are accommodated here. But as I am just about to ask Legolas, a joyful whinny fills my ears, which I am sure makes me grin like a fool. That neigh I know all too well, for it belongs unmistakably to my mare.

"Liorin!" Already, I am making my way in the direction of her voice, no longer searching the guidance of Legolas' arm but walking freely; the constant flow of low, rumbling noises Liorin is now making helps me walk up to her.

When I finally get within my horse's reach, she welcomes me by gently nudging my shoulder with her nose. I am quite familiar with this gesture, therefore it does not startle me in the least. I rather expected it, actually.

"Hello, my girl." My hands reach up to feel their way along the sides of Liorin's head. They finally come to rest behind the mare's ears, and I give her neck a ruffle in the spot she likes so much.

I am rewarded with a happy snort and another soft nudge in my belly, which Legolas comments with a chuckle from somewhere behind me. "Apparently, she has missed you just as much as you her."

"Yes, you might be right." I give Liorin's neck one more ruffle and lean forward so that my forehead comes to touch hers. "So, did they take good care of you here?" My words are meant as a rhetorical question, of course, and my voice is the ghost of a whisper against the ridge of my mare's nose.

Naturally, I am more than surprised when Legolas replies on her behalf, "She should have no reason to complain." His voice is tinted with amusement.

I stand upright again, only my right hand still resting on my horse's neck, the other dropping to my side.

He...he heard what I just said? But how could he?

I quickly decide that it must be yet another Elvish thing; some sort of enhanced hearing. I must admit that I am gradually beginning to wonder what other surprises the Elf might have in store for me, should I ever get the opportunity to get to know him closer. Then again, the same might be true for any other Elf, for that matter. Apparently, the knowledge I gained from Aldarida's telling of stories is far more scant than I would have thought.

I feel rather than hear Legolas step up next to me. From the way Liorin's neck moves beneath my hand, I conclude that the mare greets him in much the same manner she welcomed me earlier.

"She is a very good-natured horse, your Liorin."

"Oh indeed, she is." I let my hand move down along her neck towards the mare's shoulder as I reply.

Just then, a neigh that can only be described as a protesting call sounds over from nearby.

"If that does not sound like someone is jealous." I cannot help but grin, highly amused. "Your horse, Legolas?"

"Aye," he laughs. "I think I had better walk over to him for a moment. Would you like to meet him as well, Thalwyn?"

I nod and give Liorin another pat on the neck before I let Legolas guide me to the source of the whinny. Our arrival is acknowledged with a contented snort.

"Thalwyn, meet Alagos," the Elf at my side briefly introduces his horse to me.

"Alagos? Now that is a beautiful name. Greetings, Alagos." I reach out my right hand, palm up. Apparently, Legolas' horse is just as sociable and friendly as mine, for soon a soft nose starts nuzzling my palm as if searching for invisible treats that might be hidden somewhere between my fingers. I let him have his way; only when Alagos begins to playfully nibble on one of my fingers, do I move my hand to the side of the horse's head and take up stroking the silky fur there.

"What colour is he?"

It takes Legolas a moment to reply, somewhat irritated, "Black. He is black."

Why did my question take him by surprise – because he had forgotten for a moment that I could not see the colour for myself, or rather because he wonders why a blind girl should ask for colours in the first place?

I smile as I let my hand run down the strong, shapely neck of Legolas' horse repeatedly. "I may never have learned what the different colours look like, but they do mean something to me. And I wanted to know if Alagos looked anything like my own horse."

What follows is a moment of silence before Legolas finally remarks, "That is one thing that I have been wondering – whether colours would mean anything to you."

"They do, Legolas. They do." My hand comes to rest at Alagos' well-muscled shoulder as I remember a silent question that had been forming in my mind the night before. "But I have been wondering something as well."

"And that is?" the Elf asks curiously when I do not continue at once.

"Whether there are any blind Elves."

"I think the answer to this would be no," Legolas replies somewhat carefully. "Since Elves do not suffer from sicknesses of any kind, there are no other ways an Elf could lose their sight than an injury of their eyes. And I would like to think that those could always be healed. Our healers are very skilled, and Elves recover fast from injuries."

"I see." And indeed I believe his words without a second thought, for I now remember that my sister told me about one of the legendary gift of the Elves – immortality.

And if they are immortal, they must surely be less susceptible for diseases, if not immune to them.
But was Aldarida right? Are Elves immortal?

I decide to seize the opportunity and ask. "Legolas, may I ask you something?"

"Anything, Thalwyn." Once more, his voice is laced with curiosity.

"This may sound silly, but are Elves really immortal?"

"Our kin do not die of old age or illness, that much is true." Legolas pauses shortly before he goes on, "An Elf can be lethally wounded, though, or die of sorrow or a broken heart."

A question forms in my mind at the last part of his explanation, but the sad tone underlying  Legolas' words tells me not to pry. There is one more thing, however, that I need to know. "Excuse my being so blunt, Legolas," I start hesitantly, "but how old are you? What I saw when you let me touch your face would make me think that you are but a few years older than I am, but I get the feeling that I might be wrong with that assumption."

There is no trace of sadness left as Legolas confirms, "To say that I was a few years older would indeed be a bit of an understatement. I have seen many summers – hundreds more than you, actually."

"So...so you are several hundreds of years old?" I am surprised myself at how incredulous my voice sounds.

I should have expected an answer like the one he gave me.
Immortal! He's immortal, Thalwyn!

Legolas does not even try to hide his amusement and chuckles at my words. "Yes. In fact, I am almost three thousand years old."

"Three..." I find myself rendered mute as I try to digest the number he just told me.

Another soft chuckles reaches my ears, and then I feel Legolas' arm settle around my shoulders. "But let us talk no longer of this, Thalwyn. How about we continue our walk around the valley?"

I nod, still dumbfounded, and let Legolas guide me away from our horses and out into the open again.