Chapter 8 : Shadow

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"Father, hurry and come in, out of the cold!" Gwynna helped her father into the house, and made him sit right in front of the fire. "It's freezing outside, why did you come back so late today?"

Leorian smiled. His wonderful daughter, always worrying about him. His leg and hip didn't hurt anymore, except for the occasional ache, and although he still went about with a limp, it really wasn't as bad as it seemed. But still his daughter worried and fussed. In fact, she had even forgotten her nineteenth birthday the day before, and he had had to remind her about it. "Don't fuss over me, Gwynna, I'm all right. I was just talking to Eldarion. That boy is very intelligent, he will be a good king when his time comes." Gwynna nodded, and went to the kitchen to get her father some food. Leorian smiled to himself again; he had a surprise for Gwynna. "Gwynna, I can take my dinner myself. There was someone with the King when I was there just now… someone from Ithilien."

Gwynna came out of the kitchen immediately, holding an empty bowl in her hand. "Legolas is in Minas Tirith?" she breathed, a big smile spreading across her face.

Leorian got up from his seat and went over to her. "Come, let me take that," he said, taking the bowl out of her hands. "You go put on a warm coat and go greet him. I'll be all right here, just bring him over later."

Gwynna beamed and threw her arms around her father, then hurried to her room. Leorian could see her smoothing down her hair in her mirror, and chuckled to himself. Gwynna had never admitted to him what was going on between her and Legolas, but he had noticed that Legolas visited more often than before, and that Gwynna had always been incredibly excited whenever he came to Minas Tirith. He nodded to himself as he went to the kitchen. If Gwynna had to fall in love with anyone, he was glad that it was Legolas. Legolas was someone he would trust with anything.

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Gwynna gave her father a peck on the cheek and ran out of the house, almost slipping on the little bit of frosted ice. She would have to scrape that off the steps later. But for now, she didn't care. She ran as fast as she could (without falling) to the King's hall, just in time to see Legolas walking down the steps.

He seemed a little surprised when she flung herself into his arms, but then he laughed and swung her around. "It's good to see you too, Gwynna," he said. "Sorry I didn't make it in time for your nineteenth birthday; it was snowing rather heavily in Ithilien. Fenwë sends his regards."

"That's all right, I'm just glad you're here," Gwynna told him truthfully. They began walking back towards Gwynna's house. "My father says that you have to…" Gwynna broke off when a coughing fit took her.

"Are you all right?" Legolas asked, patting her on the back (even though both of them knew that doing that didn't really help matters).

Gwynna gasped for breath a little after that fit. "I'm fine, I just have a slight cough. I'm fine."

Legolas shook his head. "That's not just a slight cough. You have to take care of yourself. Come, let's hurry and perhaps we can get you out of the cold sooner." He took Gwynna's hand and quickened his pace. She followed obediently. She did have coughing fits quite a lot recently, despite all the herbs she had been given by the healing woman. Her persistent coughing irritated the healing woman more than it did her, perhaps because she didn't know what to make of it and how to cure it. Sometimes Gwynna felt like she couldn't breathe, either, but she dismissed that as too much coughing, and thought that perhaps after the winter was over all would be all right. She would be just fine.

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Legolas walked back to the room Aragorn had ordered prepared for him in very high spirits. Everyone was indoors, probably warming their hands by the fire, but he did not feel the cold. He smiled to himself, thinking about the lovely dinner he had had with Leorian and Gwynna. It was a simple spread, but he had thoroughly enjoyed himself. It reminded him of the meals he had had with Fenwë and Gwynna in Ithilien before.

He frowned a little. The next time he came to Minas Tirith, he would bring something for Gwynna's coughs. As little as she made of it, he didn't like to see her coughing so much. That girl spent so much time fussing over her father that she seemed to forget she was human as well, and perfectly capable of getting sick. Perhaps someone was needed to take care of Gwynna while she took care of her father. Perhaps he should send Fenwë over to Minas Tirith to watch over the both of them. Perhaps he should do it himself.

He shook his head, laughing softly to himself. What was he thinking? It was a cold winter; that was probably the reason for her health. Gwynna was no child, and she could take care of herself. He would just bring over some Elvish medicine for her the next time, and she would be fine.

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Leorian lay awake in the middle of the night, thinking about his daughter. Her coughing was getting worse, it seemed to him. The healing women could find nothing in the Houses of Healing that could get rid of the coughing. It didn't seem to be affecting the rest of Gwynna, though. She was still a lively, active girl, and she still practiced with the bow and arrow whenever she could. In fact, her skill had surpassed Eldarion's, which of course made the boy feel extremely sore.

Try as he might, he could not stop thinking about Morwenna. Her illness had begun with coughing, too. "No," he whispered to himself. No. Gwynna was fine. It was just the cold winter. When spring came, she would get better again. And then he would make her go back to Ithilien. She spoke Elvish rather well now; it would be a pity to just stop everything halfway. Fenwë would be glad to take her in as his student once more, and of course Legolas would be delighted.

But still…

"No. Gwynna is going to be all right," he told himself fiercely.

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NOTE: Ah all righty I will try to see if I can write another chapter before going off the Internet until the end of CNY break.