*。☆。
★。＼｜／。★
˚ ₊ ♡ ❰ BALLAD OF BROKEN SWORDS ❱
*✧ ─── ❝ ❪ THE ROAD AHEAD ❫ ❞
▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ACT ONE  ── ad melinora 🏹 ⁺⑅

═════════ ☆•° °•☆ ═════════
CHILDREN OF ARDA DUOLOGY  ⋆ ☄.
♯ ❝ DRAW THE SKY OF HOME ❞
CHAPTER ONE ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
˚ ₊ ♡ the third age ─── year one
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━━ ˚ ₊ ♡ 🏹
❝ 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘮, 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘴, 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶
𝙨𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝙘𝙧𝙮 ❞

*✧ ─── TWO MONTHS HAVE PASSED, BUT YET THE ACHE LINGERS IN GYDA'S HEART. IT'S EVER PRESENT AND SHE KNOWS THERE'S NO TIME TO DWELL ON IT. GIL-GALAD HAS BEEN LAID TO REST WITH OTHER SOLDIERS recovered from battle, but while they may finally rest peacefully, the road ahead for the living is harder. Gyda isn't quite sure what the appropriate time to mourn is, she was only an elfling when her mother passed into the grey havens. She hadn't seen such loss since the battle of Mordor.

Now she stands in the very same courtyard she had entered battle bruised and bloodied to bring the news of the death of Gil-Galad. Where she saw a spark go out in the High-Queen's eyes. Where young Elgarain had pounded her small fists against her flesh demanding the return of her father.

Now her hands are clean, and clasped behind her back.

But she can still feel the thick crimson

Eyes travel across the courtyard, where elves have gathered. Some are here to stay, others here to join their delegation towards Imladris. A small voice whispers in her head not to leave Lindon, to leave her home when so little fighters are left standing. If the Orcs attacking around the border don't warrant her duty to protect, it's the fact that it's still her home.

But her promise warrants a stronger resolve.

"Gyda?" a voice brings her back from her staring contest with the wall and eyes flicker up to see Aerien standing ahead of her. Her hair is elegantly twisted and it's a picturesque sight. Regal and flattering to her delicate features. But no amount of riches could cover up the hurt that was displayed in her eyes.

The brunette wondered if she looked the same.

"Tarinya?" She stands up straighter, hand on the hilt of her sword as she eyes the group of queen-guards surrounding her.

Elgarain is nowhere in sight like she normally is. Close to her mother, clutching her mother's dress with one hand, the other holding a pencil in her nimble fingers.

"Walk with me." Aerien offers an arm and Gyda reluctantly abandons her post by the door to link her arms through hers.

Aerien makes quick work of telling her guards to leave them for a moment and Gyda bites the inside of her cheek nervously. For some reason dread settles in the pit of her stomach. Does the queen regret accepting her vow? Does she regret trusting her with Elgarain's life? Or does she blame her for the loss of husband?

"You look pale." It's a simple statement, but Gyda's eyes widen like she is caught committing a murder.

"Just tired tarinya." She tries to cover up, adding a small shrug to help her ruse. "It's been a hard couple of days."

Aerien gently pats her hand, "I'm sorry for your loss too."

Gyda closes her eyes, when she feels the tell-tale sign of tears gathering. A shudder goes through her body as she inhales sharply. "Thank you."

"Gyldorn was a trusted guard," Aerien starts, "but most importantly, he was a good and loyal friend."

Gyda chuckles softly, recalling all the times she'd spend in the presence of the High-King with her father. The ever present laughter, and countless stories and adventures.

"I think you can be like that for Elgarain."

Her eyes snap up to meet the High-Queen's, "She certainly didn't look like she liked me last time I saw her." Gyda sighs finally in reply.

After the day in the courtyard, it was as clear as day to Gyda that Elgarain avoided her like the plague, running and hiding the moment she stepped in the same room as her. A frown would permanently settle on her face when they crossed paths. Like she was the phantom of death that chased her father to the grey Havens.

"Your father actually decked Gil when they met for the first time." Aerien giggles, eyes glimmering, "He thought he was making advances on your mother. He was smitten already by the very sight of her."

"He did?" Gyda's eyes widen at the words, "he has never spoken of such a thing."

"Well one does not go prancing around the fact they hit the king."

She chuckles, "No, I guess not." She pauses, "He didn't talk often about her after her passing."

"It wasn't easy for him." Aerien simply answers before catching her eyes again. She looks more serious now. "The Orc attacks are happening more frequently. Closer too."

Gyda frowns, lips pulled in a thin line. "Are we keeping them at bay?"

"For now, but our forces are a lot less than what they used to be. Some are still healing from the battle. I fear for Elgarain's safety."

"I can keep her safe." Gyda says firmly, afraid her fears were coming true after all. "I know I'm young, and I know I'm not my father." She clenches her jaw before repeating. "I promise I will keep Elgarain safe."

She wonders if she is trying to convince not only the High-Queen with her words.

"It's not your capabilities I'm questioning." Aerien assures, "But Lindon is not safe right now. I have to rebuild with what's left. And I fear I cannot be a mother and a queen at the same time right now. And Elgarain deserves to grow up without the threat of attack looming over her head. I want you and a delegation of other elves to ride for Imladris. Lord Elrond will take care of you."

"Then we'll ride for Imladris as soon as possible." Gyda nods.

Gyda blinks, when someone steps in front of her, blocking her view from the gathered group of elves.

Galion stands in front of her, honey blonde hair in neat waves. His bow is already slung across his body, and kind eyes crinkle when he smiles at her.

They had grown up side by side. Their fathers close friends since youth. They played together, ran together, cried together, trained together, and finally went to battle together. She was lucky at least someone from her childhood was still breathing by her side.

"Ready to go Gyd?"

She knew she shouldn't complain, but leaving behind the only home she'd known, felt harder than she thought it would. When she left for Mordor, she knew she'd return, like the naïve elleth she was, but now, leaving for Imladris? Not knowing when she would return? That felt excruciating.

"As ready as I'll ever be." She mutters softly, letting a small smile grace her lips in a futile effort to look okay.

"I miss him too you know." Galion says, placing a hand on her shoulder for comfort.

They don't speak anymore as they both go stand beside their horses. The only ones yet to come into the courtyard are the High-Queen and princess. The thought had barely entered her mind before the white palace doors open and Aerien and Elgarain walk down the steps leading to the courtyard.

She catches the High-Queen's gaze for a moment, but unlike her mother, Elgarain promptly avoids her gaze. But Gyda can still notice the sadness that hangs around her like a rain cloud. For a moment the young princess' eyes look up, and land on Galion next to her. A small blush coating her cheeks and from the corner of her eye, she can she Galion smirking.

The smug bastard.

Like time has slowed down, Elgarain moves sluggishly across the courtyard, her mother's hand a steady guide towards the prepared horse. An enthusiastic grey mare.

The High-Queen only releases her hand when Elgarain climbs on the horse, albeit bit awkwardly.

Gyda slowly moves to climb on her own horse, Galion and the other elves, hand-picked for the trip doing the same. The brunette sees Aerien give her daughter one last encouraging smile.

Then she stepped away from Elgarain's horse and turned her gaze to the rest of the travelling party. The look of a mother replaced by the tactful one of a queen. "May the grace of the Valar protect you," she spoke, her voice resounded around the courtyard.

Gyda notes, despite her earlier thoughts that month, it still sounded like birdsong.

She was the first to move, nudging her own horse, forward. She dared one last look over her shoulder. At the white stone of the palace, the way the sun gleamed on the steps. At the Lindon. At home.

*。☆。
★。＼｜／。★
𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝘪𝘵, 𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴
𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝘪𝘵, 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘵

─ joseph conrad

ᵒ .༄ ࿐ ࿔* 🏹🌋🪨
⋆⋅ ━━━━ ‧ ༻✩༺ ‧ ━━━━ ⋅⋆

third age ━━ year one

LINDON'S PALACE, AND THE CITY IS SLOWLY TRADED FOR THE NOLDORIAN WOODS IN A BLUR OF MESMERISING AND LUSH GREEN. THEIR TRAVELS HAVE MOSTLY BEEN SILENT. The occasional murmurs of conversation echo on the breeze, but Gyda is tense and analysing every sound around them. She knows these woods well, ran around them as a wide-eyed elfling. But now the shadows she used to hide in during a game, feel like terrors waiting to attack.

The Blue Mountains stood tall above the canopy of trees, still majestic from such a distance away. Gyda remembers traveling west to those very same mountains when she was still in training with her platoon and her father on a diplomatic mission. Their beautifully crafted halls had awed her for days, and she was not afraid to admit she liked them as she wandered around.

But today they are not heading west. The east holds their journey in its grasp. The valley of Imladris was a hidden gem she had not had the pleasure of seeing yet and she wonders if it would look like Lindon. If it would at least look familiar to home.

Her cautious gaze roams around the small clearing they enter, nerves filling her veins, the pressure of keeping everyone save a heavy weight. Hazel eyes flicker before beholding the crown-princess ahead of the delegation with Galion by her side. Her honey haired friend is talking relentlessly as he always does. Taking more care in crafting words than paying attention to his surroundings. How he survived this long something baffles her, but then again she knows his skills.

Damn his charming-self

Laughter rings out again, her friend shaking in delight at something Elgarain had spoken.

A hint of annoyance sparks in her chest. They need to keep the princess safe. Not prance her around half-protected. Her father would have her protected completely, and here Gyda was, having the elfling up at the front while attacks from Sauron's loyal followers had frequently increased.

A grim expression finds its way on her face as she spoke clearly, "Maybe the aranel should be in the middle?"

She watches as Elgarain casts a look over her shoulder, wide round eyes shimmering with contempt as she eyes Gyda.

"Come on, Gyd," Galion was full on smiling, not a care of worry in his eyes, "we're still in Lindon, give the aranel a chance to enjoy the view!"

The hand on the hilt of her sword tightens at the words, noting the way Elgarain's cheeks stain a faint red color before the girl ducks her head and looks ahead again.

"So," Galion continues as he also turns around in his saddle, "I hear you like drawing?"

A small groan leaves Gyda's lips as the elf continues his conversation. Irritations is lapping in her stomach like furious flames.

"I do," Gyda hears Elgarain say, and the brunette knows the elfling is surely smiling.

"I never liked it. The pencil just didn't seem to do what my fingers wanted." Galion replies casually.

Before Gyda can chide them again, and demand them to actually listen to her words, Elgarain replies hurriedly, "But you're an archer. You even make your own arrows. It's not like your fingers are useless."

Gyda already knows what's swirling in Galion's head before he turns around to speak his mind.

The Elf throws a playful look over his shoulder at Gyda. "You hear that! I'm not so useless after all!"

Her lips are set in a thin line, rolling her eyes for good measure and she is happy that Galion is decent enough to look sheepish. But his compassion doesn't outlast his desire to keep pushing her buttons.

"Maybe you could try and capture the Captain's hidden beauty," Galion goes on. "Sometimes when the light hits just right, I swear you can see her elegance beneath all the scowling."

"Do I need to remind you of the time Elona called you pretty and you cried for hours because you thought she was lying," Gyda snarks out hastily, eyes narrow in slits to glare at her friend.

Galion winches, placing a hand on his chest, right where his heart is. "I can't believe you just betrayed me like that. My deepest, darkest secret and you just throw it out there!"

A laugh bubbles up in the clearing, loud and genuine. And Gyda is startled by the sound of it for a moment. She doesn't remember the last time she heard such sound. Elgarain shoulders still shake in the aftershock of her own giggles and for a moment, Gyda relaxes her tense shoulders and basks in the sound.

She ignores the smug smirk Galion is displaying.

"I can try," Elgarain suddenly offers, but the young princess doesn't seem to dare face her when she speaks.

Gyda watches the princess rummaging around the small pouch attached to the saddle of her horse before retrieving a pencil and parchment. The brunette flinches when Elgarain almost topples over to find a comforting position.

"I still think Aranel Elgarain should not be in the front." Gyda argues again, eyes focusing on the girl's petite figure. "Or should I remind you about the border attacks. The very same border we are approaching."

The guard next to her, Cirdan, nervously scans their surroundings. "Captain is right, the border patrol found signs of a Orc camp not to far away from these parts."

"She's safe next to me Gyd. At least wait for your overbearing tendencies to kick in after we leave Lindon." He looks at her over his shoulder. "I hear hobbits are frightful little creatures. You can scare them off later if you'd like."

Gyda huffs, but she doesn't say anything else. But her worries are not going away and instead she guides her horse closer to Elgarain and Galion.

"You think you can capture my handsome features on that little piece of paper?" Galion suddenly asks the princes as he leans closer to take a look at what she's drawing.

A startled gasp leaves Elgarain's lips, clearing she'd been too engrossed in her own little world. Before Galion even has time to move, the princess had jumped back in surprise, losing her balance on top of the grey mare.

Gyda, who had been inching closer to the two, was quick to move and in one fluid move, she reaches out, fingers clasp around Elgarain's upper arm before she falls of completely, her other hand moving to catch the pencil that tumbled from the elfling's grip. "Stop drawing, and look where you're going." She scolds, voice laced with contempt.

Cautious, not to use too much strength, Gyda pushes the princess back fully on the horse, sending a small glare over the girl's head at Galion who smiles innocently at her. Blonde locks sweeping in the winds as he dodges her gaze.

Elgarain mumbles something she doesn't pick up. But Gyda is already focusing ahead again, this time staying to the princess' right side. From the corner of her eye she sees the elfling reach for her pencil again. "If you so much as make one line on that paper so Valar help me." She grumbles, voice low and threatening.

For a moment she is startled by her own voice. She sounds like her father.

The princess freezes, hesitation clear in her actions. Gyda notes she looks at Galion for assistance, but even he knows not to mess with her when she gets like this.

Galion shrugs, looking up ahead. "Better listen kid."

Gyda upper lip curls into a small smile at his words.

"But━"

"You can draw when we make camp. Not before." Gyda chastises.

Their travels go on in silence for a while, only soft spoken murmurs are exchanged between the guards. Gyda let's her eyes rest on the horizon, where the sun is slowing dipping behind the canopy of trees, the sky swirling in orange and yellows hues. The sight relaxes her more than she cares to admit.

Slowly, she notes that the woods are thinning, and more hills appear in the distance. She knows they're close to leaving the Ñoldorian woods behind. Leaving Lindon behind.

"We should make camp." She announces clearly before catching the princess' gaze, "tomorrow we will leave Lindon."

With a tug on the reins in her hand, Gyda directs the delegation towards a small clearing up ahead, a river close by that can serve as a small protective border. One less place to worry about, Gyda thinks. Fatigue is slowly creeping inside her bones, but she does her best not to show it. Not until the dark blanket of nightfall can cover her face.

"Daros, Ihtel." She looks at the two guards close behind her. "Set up a perimeter, make sure there aren't any others close by." She manoeuvres herself off of her horse, petting it's mane twice before guiding towards one of the trees to tie it to for the night.

"Galion." Gyda smiles softly at her friend when he ties his horse next to hers, "Seeing as you enjoyed your time so much with the aranel. Make sure she's comfortable. Get her some Lembas."

Galion chuckles, "You shouldn't be too hard on her you know."

Gyda's tense shoulders slouch, "Look Galion. I have a duty to perform. And the aranel already made up her mind about me. I'm not wasting my breath on changing her mind when I could just keep her safe. That's why I'm here. That's what the High-Queen expects from me.

Galion places a hand on her shoulder, the touch familiar and comforting. Like home. "It's not only your burden to bear Gyda. That's why we're all here." He pauses. "And if I'm honest, I think you could be friends. Great friends, you're both stubborn enough not to see it though."

With those words he leaves her behind, but Gyda doesn't dare dwelling on the words. She knows she shouldn't care about what Elgarain thinks of her, but she had seen how her father and Gil-Galad had been. How they were as close as brothers. And her father always told her when it would be her turn to protect the High-Queen of Lindon, it would be the same.

She wonders if he'd be disappointed in her right now.

"Cirdan." She looks at the red haired elf, banning the thoughts from her mind "If you could set up the tents, I'll go and make sure all the horses are fed."

With tender care, Gyda walks around their camp, feeding the horses and fetching water from the river before she returns to her own horse.

The brown mare almost looks at her in wonder, as if trying to convert words with her eyes.

"You did well today, Ilya." She whispers soothingly, giving the horse an apple.

Gyda hears her before she can see her. Elgarain.

She turns slightly, eyes finding the princess and for a moment Elgarain actually looks nervous.

Younger, more innocent. Like a child should. She realises after a moment and she tries not to let it show on her face.

Seemingly coming to the same conclusion, Elgarain straightens her back before looking her in the eyes. A haunting silence lingers between them for a moment before Elgarain opens her mouth to speak.

"I-uhm," she stammers awkwardly, "I'll ride in the middle of the group tomorrow."

Surprise flashed over Gyda's features before she could try to hide it. For a moment she catches Galion's eyes over the princess' shoulder, and he winks at her. And she knows for sure that Elgarain's sudden change of heart stems from their conversation.

A more sincere expression morphs onto her face. "Thank you."

Gyda moves to turn away again, but a tug at her heartstrings makes her look back again, she doesn't want to say it, but deep down she wishes for her and Elgarain to be like her father and Gil-Galad. "You do understand why it's important right?"

Elgarain nods. "I do." She wrings her hands, "you just want to keep me safe."

"The world is still a dangerous place." Gyda elaborates, a frown on her face as she looked around the clearing they had picked for their camp. "I know you want to be home. But you cannot be there."

I know. Because I want to be home too.

Gyda hesitates, wondering if she should leave or say something else to comfort the young elf and her eyes settle on the pouch on Elgarain's horse. Slowly she walks up to it, retrieving the art supplies the princess had been working with earlier.

For a moment she looks at the parchment. It looks beautiful.

"Draw these woods, draw the sky of home." She holds out the parchment. "It might be awhile before you can see them again." With those words Gyda leaves the princess in the care of the other guards. her hand still on the hilt of her sword, the night sky easily shadowing her figure as she walk towards the outskirts of their camp. And only when she knows no one can see her does she let the tears she'd been holding back fall.

She already misses her home, but she misses her father more.

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ELVISH TRANSLATIONS
tarinya — queen
aranel — princess