A/N: A short one-shot about a conversation between Beregond's thirteen-year-old daughter Tegiliel and Legolas. I've made up the character of Tegiliel, saying that she was about five years old during the Battle of Pelennor Fields. She then moved to Ithilien with her father, mother, and her brother Bergil. In the Appendices, there is mention of Legolas living in Ithilien after the war, soLegolas and Tegiliel might have run into each other.
The first bit, about Linnor's father dying, is to provide a bit of background for the second bit. This is set about seven years after the War of the Ring
Tegiliel and Linnor sat together under a tree outside the schoolroom. Linnor's face was streaked with tears, and he was staring straight ahead at nothing. Tegiliel thought she should sit with her friend and not leave him alone with his grief, but she did not know what to say, and she did not think it was much comfort to him to simply sit. She was also close to tears herself, and she did not want Linnor to see her cry. Tegiliel gathered her breath and said, "I have to go," very quietly.
Linnor nodded, and Tegiliel stood up uneasily, putting her hand on her friend's shoulder before turning and walking away toward the woods of Ithilien.
When she got out of sight of Linnor, she broke into a run. The wind against her face calmed her, as did the familiar path through the forest she'd taken many times. Linnor's father, and had been a proud member of Gondor's army (a friend of Tegiliel's father Beregond), and word had come only that day that he had died in a skirmish with rebel Orcs. The creatures still hid in caves in Mordor, ambushing men sent to rid the nearest valleys of Sauron's filth.
Tegiliel reached a small clearing and sat down on a tree stump. She thought of life without Linnor's laughing, earnest father, who saw the good in everything and everyone, and who allowed her to eat supper at his house every week. Tegiliel couldn't help it. She pulled her knees to her chest, and broke down into quiet sobs.
One year later
Tegiliel sat morosely on a rock in her favorite clearing. It had been a year since the death of Linnor's father had reached Ithilien, and Linnor wanted to be left alone. Legolas, the only Elf living in Ithilien, was sitting on the tree stump. Though her heart was grieved, she could not help being fascinated by his appearance. He was beautiful. It felt odd to say that of a male, but there was no other word that came close to describing him. Though she had talked to Legolas many times before, she was still awestruck whenever she saw him.
"He had to die," she said, only half to herself.
"All men must die," Legolas said.
"Yes, I know," said Tegiliel. "It is the doom of men."
"No, no!" Legolas sprang up from the stump. "It is the gift of men. When men die, they are not destined to roam the halls of Mandos as Elves do who perish; they go to another place, but no one, not even the Valar, know where it is."
"Valar?" Tegiliel repeated. "You mean the gods? How could they not know? And how do you know all this?"
"I was told by my father, who was told by his father. It is a thing that Elves have known since the early ages of the world."
"But you have not been here since the early ages of the world, have you?" Tegiliel asked. "Linniel says that you are three thousand years old."
"I am two thousand years old," Legolas replied. "Though I dare say that I shall live3 to be three thousand, and perhaps older. The days of peace are truly come."
This made Tegiliel think once more of the fight that had killed her father's colleague, and her face grew grave.
"All men must die," she murmured. "I suppose so, but if only they did not have to die in such unpleasant manners, and leave behind families!"
"This shall pass," said Legolas, patting her gently on the shoulder. "All things shall pass, in their time. It may seem impossible to one so young as you, but Elves have seen the passing of the ages. They know that everything must change."
Tegiliel couldn't help but be cheered slightly by the musical sound of Legolas' voice. "Why do our conversations always end up being about Elves?" she asked.
"They are my race," Legolas said loftily. "If you were in Elven company, you would fall back to talking of your own kin."
"I suppose so," Tegiliel sighed. "I wish you weren't right about everything. I cannot best you in anything."
Legolas laughed, a clear sound that gave Tegiliel a comforting feeling. "You should not expect to," he replied lightly. "You are still very young even by human reckoning, and I have had two thousand years to learn many things. Yet you may best me in something one day."
Tegiliel knew he didn't mean it, that he was trying to make her feel better. "I will not," she said cheerfully. "You will always best me in riddle contests, and climb higher trees, and run faster. And you will always have better tengwar than I."
"Tengwar?" Legolas asked. "Why do you concern yourself with tengwar?"
"Well," said Tegiliel, feeling self-conscious, "I want to become a good writer someday. I mean… I want to have good penmanship, so that maybe… I could… become the King's Writer."
"That is an interesting ambition," Legolas said. "And a lofty one. Are you sure you can attain your goal?"
Tegiliel shook her head. "Not at all," she said. "My teacher did praise my writing once, but I am not sure at all that I can be the best. But I will try very hard. My father often says that perseverance will win. Do you agree?"
Legolas gave her a small smile. "It can in certain circumstances. But there are some situations where it would be best to retreat."
"Ugh," Tegiliel said, dropping her head into her hands. "Father always said, 'Go not to the Elves for counsel, for they will say both no and yes.' Do you ever give straight answers?"
"Sometimes," Legolas replied, and laughed his light laugh as Tegiliel made frustrated noises. He glanced up at the sky. "It is nearly noon," he said. "Should you be on your way home?"
"Oh… yes," said Tegiliel, shaking her head as though coming out of a daydream. "I shall see you soon." She took a last look at Legolas and turned to go, regretting that she could not spend more time with him. They were fascinating creatures, Elves.
Not much of an ending, really. If you have any thoughts, please review. As always, constructive criticism welcomed, especially since this was one of those pieces that get written in a notebook on an inspiration trip. Cheers!