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

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CHILDREN OF ARDA DUOLOGY ⋆ ☄.
♯ ❝ IT LOOKS SO SIMILAIR ❞
CHAPTER THREE ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
˚ ₊ ♡ the third age ─── year one
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━━ ˚ ₊ ♡ 🏹
❝ 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝙜𝙤𝙣𝙚, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴
𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝙜𝙡𝙤𝙬 𝘰𝘧 𝙨𝙞𝙡𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨 ❞

*✧ ─── WHEN THE SUN RISES, GYDA IS ALREADY UP, GAZING AT THE NARROW GORGE OF THE RIVER BRUINEN, well hidden in the moorlands and foothills of the Misty Mountains. It is their final destination, and the brunette isn't sure if she's happy or sad their journey is over. It makes saying goodbye to Lindon harder. More final.

A tear in the earth is their gateway to the hidden valley, to Imladris. Its path is narrow but the sight unfolding before her makes her heart swell pleasantly. The sun gleams of the stones, glittering upon numerous waterfalls breaking from the mountains, twisting and turning into rivers of deep azure colours. Carefully crafted elven architecture looks much like it does in Lindon and it is a welcoming sight. Tree branches sway gently in the warm wind, rustling leaves and carrying the pleasant smell of summer flowers.

Multiple bridges are carved from stone, pillars beautifully decorated and covered in startling green ivy and pale blue flowers. Footfalls echo in the distance and up ahead, Gyda can spot a group of elves approaching them. Gyda moves to the front of her company, Galion is right behind her, an awed expression on his face as he gazes around the wonders of Rivendell. She can't blame his eager smile, especially when she feels a smile of her own tug at the corners of her lips.

Her eyes are torn away from her friend's gleeful expression by the three elves crossing one of the bridges, two flanking a familiar elf with the banners of Rivendell waving in the wind. Clothed in intricate golden armor that gleams in the sunlight.

"Mae g'ovannen," Lindir's words were soft-spoken. Gyda remembered seeing him briefly on the battlefield against Sauron. And she vaguely recalled the brown haired elf as one of the many trying to talk to her on their journey back home.

He looked less tense than he did south. A shine in his eyes that many lost during the last battle on the plains of Mount Doom. She wondered if her eyes had changed too.

He was wearing a simple purple robe and  gifts her a small smile and a nod before focusing on Elgarain. The princess still awe-struck by her surroundings. "I eneth nîn Lindir." He introduces himself to the princess with a friendly grin,  "My Lord Elrond has send me to show you to your chambers and show you where your horses can rest. Though I must ask the aranel and her guard to come with me first, for Lord Elrond desires to speak with you."

Gyda is already mumbling orders to Galion when she catches Elgarain worried gaze, the green eyed elf nervously wringing with her fingers.

The brunette tries her best to muster up an encouraging smile, but she knows it not her forte. Galion is at least useful for such things.

Gyda focuses back on Lindir. "Lead on," she suggests with a simple nod of her head.

Lindir bows his head, waving out a hand as a gesture to follow him. They are brough further inside the valley, their path taking them over another bridge. Lindir's purple robes flutter in the gentle breeze, swaying at his calves when the horses slow down in a small courtyard next to a beautiful structured stable. Large and looming archways covered in plant life. Ivy twisted around the pillars.

"Your horses can rest here." The elf offers with a gentle smile, gesturing to the building.

Gyda quickly moves, dismounting her horse, grabbing the saddlebag with her belongings before taking the reins to guide her loyal friend inside. Several elves are waiting but, the brunette passes them to bring Ilya to his stable herself. Soothingly rubbing Ilya's mane, she whispers her goodbye before turning back around.

Elgarain is also inside the stable, her fingers just releasing the reins to one of the elves.

"Your chambers are this way," Lindir, dips his head to the side, and Gyda's eyes follow the motion towards a small stone pathway surrounded by trees and smaller archways that led to a set of beige colored stone stairs.

Gyda's eyes take in every twist and turn, mapping their route in her head for later. They turn inside another hallway, one that curves to reveal a magnificent thick oak tree, sprouting with life in the warm sun. Several pillars with fascinating designs stood in circular pattern, supporting the roof.

After ascending another set of stairs, Lindir leads them inside a small corridor, six doors in total lining up the walls. Three on each side.

"These are your chambers. "Lindir speaks, hands clasps behind his back, "I will give you a moment to wash up," he says with a small bow, before disappearing down the hallway.

Cirdan, Daros and Ithil already move to step inside their own chambers and Gyda watches as Galion opens the door furthest right, sending a small grin at Elgarain who hovers in front of her door.

"Don't take too long, Lord Elrond is expecting us," Gyda turns to Elgarain, hand already twisting open the door furthest left.

"I won't," Elgarain promises before disappearing from view.

Gyda pauses in the empty hallways for a moment, and for the first time in weeks, a relieved sigh escaped her parted lips. A heavy weight falls from her shoulders knowing the aranel is safe inside the valley of Imladris. Safe with Lord Elrond, ready to start her duties. But she still feels a tug of worry in her heart for Elgarain's wellbeing. She thinks it will probably never leave.

With those thoughts running in her head, she pushes the door of her chambers open. The room is circular, light filtering inside through the open windows leading to a small balcony overlooking the garden below. A luxurious bed is set in the middle of the room. It's a welcoming sight after sleeping on the uneven terrain of rocks and plains during their journey from Lindon to Imladris.

Her shoulders droop, as she untangles the belt holding her sword against her hip, movements quick knowing Elrond is waiting for them. A small bathroom is attached to the room, a simple bath carved out from the stones sits in the ground, and a mirror hangs on the wall.

Her reflection doesn't catch her off guard anymore. Her hair, braided intricately was a knitted mess at this point, hazel eyes looked older than she was. But she couldn't help but see her father's face staring back at her. From the slope of her nose to the shade of her hair. Her eyes were the only thing she gotten from her mother. Beside her stubbornness if her father had anything to say about it.

Making quick work of grabbing a clean pair of pants and a leather tunic she dresses herself again. Despite knowing there are no enemies in Imladris, she straps all her knifes in their designated places before reattaching her sword to her hip.

Combing her fingers through the dark hair, and twisting it in a quick set of braids, Gyda already moves to leave her chambers again, despite her aching limbs calling her to fall into the soft silks on her bed and rest her head on a pillow.

The hallways is still empty when she opens the doors.

Gyda leans herself against the opposite wall of Elgarain's room, one arm limply hanging by her side, while the others grabs the hilt of her sword instinctively.

Only five minutes later, Elgarain appears again. Her hair is combed neatly, falling in soft waves on her shoulders, and instead of her mud-riddled riding clothes, she donned a white dress with golden detailing on the skirt.

She smiles nervously at her, green eyes darting around the hallway.

Gyda moves the moment, Elgarain does, flanking her right side as they leisurely walk towards Lord Elrond's study. The brunette remembers Lindir's words from earlier and the directions he gave her.

Feeling the silence suffocate her, Gyda never wished for Galion's charming words to fill the room more than right now. He could easily engross anyone in a conversation, unlike herself. She was very like her father in that aspect. Always serious and focused. She didn't know if she even could hold a simple conversation long enough.

She clears her throat awkwardly, gaining Elgarain's attention. The princess looks at her with wide eyes, almost as startled as she is with the situation. "Are you excited to start learning under Lord Elrond?" She vaguely remembered Galion telling her about the fact that Elgarain would start healing lessons.

She cringes at the monotone sound of her own voice.

"Yes."

Elgarain's voice sounds void of any emotion, but Gyda's ears are well trained in the illusions of words. There is a hint of uncertainty edged in Elgarain's tone.

"That's great." Gyda nods as they descend a set of stairs leading them back to the courtyard and the large oak tree. "You'll be a good queen soon." She offers as an afterthought, not noticing the subtle tensing in Elgarain's shoulders at the words.

More silence ensues and Gyda glimpses at Elgarain from the corner of her eye, watching as the princess looks at her surrounding, desperate to stay two steps ahead of her, and not look at her. Gyda doesn't take it personally, but she is mildly agitated by the sudden change of pace.

Elrond's study is just around the corner, and Gyda's desperate for the elf to bring some much needed lightness in the tense atmosphere surrounded the two Noldorian elves.

Lindir is by the door, a grin on his face as he notices them approaching. "I see you tamed you hair Gyda." he jokes, but Gyda doesn't crack a smile at the jest.

"Is Lord Elrond ready for us?" She goes straight to the reason of their arrival, shoulders squaring and hazel eyes turning to look at the closed oak door.

"Yes." The elf confirms, and Gyda wastes no time in knocking on the door, a faint invitation to come inside echoing from the other side.

Lindir hums, not taking Gyda's cold demeanor to heart. "Just like your father." He mumbles but it seems only Elgarain catches the words as the two Noldorian elves walk inside Elrond's study.

The room is large, bookcases stacked up against the walls, scrolls and books older than she can imagine displayed. Candles flicker, illuminating the room, casting a gentle and warm glow. Large archways with beautiful carved patterns lend sight to the city of Imladris and Gyda catches a beautiful waterfall descending from the cliffs through one. A dark oak desk stands in front of one of the arches with a view of the balcony and it's there where they find Lord Elrond standing in his robes.

Gentle and kind eyes observe the tense pair. Gyda is standing one step behind Elgarain as a formality when she greets their host with a firm nod. Elgarain awkwardly shifts her weight from leg to leg, discomfort radiating from her features.

"Gi nathlof hi, Elgarain a Gyda," he greets with a small bow of his head.

Gyda bows her own head, while Elgarain curtsies in front of her. "Annon allen," Elgarain speaks kindly.

"I hope your journey was without trouble," Elrond inquires, his eyes watching the two of them closely.

Gyda is ready to reply honestly, and inform him of the rising attacks they encountered in Lindon, but Elgarain speaks carelessly "It was," the brunette can almost hear the smile in the princess' voice.

Elrond hums, as Gyda's brows furrow and they cross gazes "You and your party will remain here for as long as it will take for you to complete your lessons, as your mother requested." Elrond informs. "I only ask that they make themselves useful as long as they choose to remain."

"We will, my Lord," Gyda shifts on her feet, back straightening.  "The Aranel has requested I teach her how to fight. In the time left the others and I will help you keep the borders safe." She promises, trying not to grimace as the thought of Galion careless actions that transpired on the road to the plains of Mordor cross her mind.

       Elrond nods at her words, seeming pleased with her notion. "Now would you give me a moment alone with the Aranel?"

Her shoulders tense for a moment, an unsure expression on her face as her eyes flicker between Elrond and Elgarain. But with one kind look from Elrond, Gyda remembers where they are and that they are safe.

Resting her hand on her the hilt of her sword, Gyda turns on her heel and marches back to the oak door and swings it open. Lindir is still standing next to the door, giving her a grin as the door falls close behind her.

"I didn't have the chance to say the royal seal of Lindon looks good one you Gyda." Lindir compliments, a more sincere smile on his face, unlike his earlier teasing words. "just like it suited your father."

Gyda's eyes travel to the metal pin attached to her tunic, gleaming in the sunlight and a faint smile tugs at her own lips. Her fingers itch to touch the cool metal but she restrains herself. "Thank you Lindir."

The brunette elf chuckles as he goes to stand next to her, both elves gazing out at one of the arched windows with a view of the city of Imladris. "Is it like home?" Lindir wonders.

"It looks similar." Gyda mutters, eyes remaining fixated on the hidden valley.

It doesn't feel the same though.

It is like Lindir can read her thoughts, "It will become home soon enough Gyda." He promises.

"It matters not." She shakes her head. "the sooner the aranel starts her studies, the sooner we can return to our homeland."

"It will take many years for aranel Elgarain to master her duties. She is still a mere elfling." He pauses, "she doesn't seem eager to start her queenly life however."

"Well, she doesn't have a choice. High-Queen Aerien expects her to be fully committed to her studies. And with the healing lessons from Lord Elrond, there will be no time to play around."

A hand clasps her shoulder and she takes her eyes of the glittering waters of Imladris to turn to Lindir. "let us not forget what it is like to be young Gyda. Let us most importantly not rush her into anything she isn't ready for."

A bitter chuckle escapes her lips at the words, "I wasn't ready either." She scoffs. "war didn't wait for anyone to grow up. It forced our hand."

"The war is over Gyda."

"Is it?"

Lindir has no time to reply as the oak door opens again and Elgarain appears again. She looks paler, a little shaken but she still musters up a smile. "He wishes to speak to you."

Gyda nods, not even casting a look back at Lindir as she steps back inside Elrond's study.

Lord Elrond is still standing in the same spot, hands clasped together in front of him. Dark eyes follow her as she moves inside, probably noting the anger radiating from her skin. She tries her best to shake off the memories of war, the anger still lingering around.

She breaths out and makes sure to relax her shoulders. "You wished to speak to me as well, my lord?"

Elrond nods, motioning to Gyda to join him by his desk, numerous papers and maps scattered recklessly on the surface.

Peering down at the oak desk, she watches as Elrond grasp a green velvet pouch for a drawer. "Gil-Galad entrusted me with this object." He looks at Gyda again, "I need you to promise me not to utter a word of this to anyone.

Another promise.

Gyda sighs, complying nonetheless. "Of course."

"This is the ring Vilya." A golden band clinks on the desk, an impressive sapphire set inside. "it is considered the mightiest of the three elven rings. It possesses the power to heal and to persevere."

"I didn't know Lindon is—was" She corrects herself, "still in possession of it." She is a bit startled by the sight of the Blue Ring. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because it will belong to Elgarain when she is ready to ascend to the throne of Lindon." Lord Elrond elaborates curtly, returning the ring back to its pouch. "I hope you will be able to help me decide when she is ready. As her closest protector, you will learn to know Elgarain better than she will understand herself. I will be of need of that knowledge when the time comes."

Gyda swallows nervously with the importance of the task. "I will do my best to be of assistance lord Elrond." She promises.

Another vow.

"Then I think it is high time for me to escort you and the aranel around Imladris."

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ELVISH TRANSLATIONS
Mae g'ovannen— welcome / well met
I eneth nîn Lindir.— My name is Lindir
aranel— princess
Gi nathlof hi — you are welcome here
Annon allen — I give thanks to you / thank you