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

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CHILDREN OF ARDA DUOLOGY  ⋆ ☄.
♯ ❝ GALU MELLON NIN ❞
CHAPTER TWELVE ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
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━━ ˚ ₊ ♡ 🏹
❝ 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙮 𝘪𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩
𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭'𝘴 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙧𝙚 𝘵𝘰 𝙜𝙧𝙤𝙬 ❞

*✧ ─── THE SIGHT OF THE LIGHT COLOURED GLAIVE IS A STARK CONTRAST TO THE DARK OAK SHE HAD BEEN ONCE GIFTED BY HER FATHER. WHERE HER FATHER HAD CARVED THE BRONZE COREOPSIS FLOWER FOR STRENGHT, Gyda had decided  on a design of orchids, a representation of luck. The delicate carving smooth and plentiful scattered around the wood. The tip of metal glinting, sharp and unused.

"It looks well-crafted." Galion appears next to her, his belonging already packed and his bag slung over his shoulder, in his hand, his own bow.

"Hanta. I hope the Aranel likes it." Gyda shrugs with a shy smile.

"I'm sure she'd happily slay orcs and dark creatures alike with it." Galion quips and Gyda cringes.

"Let's hope she does not have to." The brunette elf sighs, "she shall need to learn the art of the Noldorian spear first."

"Are you ready for our departure?" Galions questions after a moment of silence.

Is she? For some reason her thoughts wander to the silvery-blonde haired elf. Kind blue eyes and velvet voice. 

"Of course." She replies, despite the undertone of uncertainty hidden in her words. "homeward we go mellon nin."

Galion doesn't say it, but the sympathy in his eyes is evident. He knows her desire to talk more to the nameless Woodland elf and Gyda's mind flashes back to a conversation she'd had with him earlier that week.

It was almost dark when Galion found her perched beneath a birchwood tree, snippets of wood splinters sprawled around her on the grass. "Gyda what have you been doing here all day, eh?" he asks as he pushes away a couple of stray whisps of honey-blonde hair before furrowing his brow, "Is that a new spear?"

Gyda hums, fingers caressing over a half finished carving. "It's for the Aranel."

If Galion was surprised he didn't let it show and instead went to sit next to her in the soft grass, and leant back against the birchwood. "That's kind of you." He starts, "but why now? Why here?"

"It was just something someone said to me..." She mumbles.

"You've seen him again then? The elven soldier?" Galion guesses and Gyda nods.

"When will I get to meet the ellon that has caught your attention so easily?"

"My guess is as good as yours mellon." Gyda shrugs, "It is by chance I found him last night. I followed him into the woods, he was patrolling for spiders."

Galion's eyes widen. "Were there any?"

She nods somberly. "They were foul Galion, terrible, terrible beasts. He told me they keep getting reports of them coming closer to their borders."

"We must tell Lord Elrond upon our return to Imladris—wait...do you still not know his name?"

Gyda ducks her head sideways to focus on her work before shaking her head.

Galion chuckles, a soft smile on his face. "You are allowed to make friends here you know. Might actually be of use for when we finally return to Lindon once more. I hate to say it, but their bows are impeccable."

Gyda can only chuckle. "How kind of you to say Galion."

He shrugs, "You think you'll see him again, the elven soldier, before we are to return to Imladris?"

Her smile fades, and Gyda can't explain the ache that runs through her heart at the thought of leaving. "Maybe. I'm not sure." She replies

I hope so are the words left unspoken.

"Gyda?"

"Huh?"

Gyda blinks and as her vision clears again she sees Galion holding out her scabbard, with her sword in it. "It's time to go. Cerwyn is waiting

Reaching out, Gyda takes ahold of her belonging and straps her scabbard around her hips before following Galion out of their room. It almost feels nostalgic, ascending the stone cobblestone steps again. A month ago the halls had felt haunted, shadows creeping up the walls and hollow sounds echoing from crevices like whispering ghosts. Now the darkness feels like a warm blanket encasing her. It's a strange feeling, but walking inside the halls of Mirkwood feels good. Almost as if her soul knows all it's secrets and feels safe here.

The torchlight glows warmly on her pale skin, as they get closer to the large and majestic halls of King Thranduil, and secretly, Gyda hopes the stranger from a couple nights before will be standing around somewhere. She hopes to learn his name before her departure despite her previous protests. Woodland elves, silvan and Sindarin alike are gathered along the twisting, crossing and echoing paths. The serving pathways curving like branches of a tree and the waterfalls shuddered from the high cliffs. If she closed her eyes, it reminded her of the sound of Imladris.

Like the first time she'd entered the great hall, the elven king was seated on his throne of carved wood, the branches sprouted like the antlers of his great elk. His crowns of berries and read leaves like deep, rich blood in contrast to his pale skin and silver hair.

His wooden staff was perched against his throne as he regarded them all. Like deja-vu, Gyda approaches the throne with a hammering heart and sweaty palms. But this time she exudes calmness and peace as she looks up at their host. She feels proud of what she has achieved during her stay. Proud of the culture she had gotten to share, of the friendships she had created.

With a quick survey of the crowd, Gyda feels a pang of disappointment when she does not see the silvery-blonde elf among the crowd. But she does spot Nandir with his daughter Soles and an Elleth she can only assume is Soles'mother. The redheaded elf smile toothily at her, even waving enthusiastically at her. Nandir nods at her in acknowledgement and before Gyda can continue looking for the ellon, Cerwyn's voice breaks her concentration and steals her attention.

"Your grace," Cerwyn raises his hand to his heart and bows his head, "We'd like to thank you for your generosity during our stay. Our cultures have all bode well from this and the knowledge exchanged between the elves has been invaluable."

"It has been an unexpected knowledgeful time indeed." King Thranduil agreed monotonously.

Cerwyn nods and Gyda takes a step forward as she bows her head in greeting. "I hope we might welcome you to the elven haven of Mithlond and Lindon's palace."

"We shall have to see, Gyda daughter of Gyldorn." Thranduil comments casually, "Perhaps when aranel Elgarain has ascended the throne?"

Gyda can only nod firmly, clenching her jaw to refrain from making another distasteful comment.

"Have a safe journey home," Thranduil waves his hand in a final goodbye, "Give the aranel—" Gyda hates the way he speak of Elgarain's title so mockingly. "and Lord Elrond my well wishes."

"Novaer."

In quick succession, the delegation has moved outside the cavern and into the outside world, fresh air filling her lungs as they approach their fed and watered horses station just before the stone bridge.

Approaching Ilya, the grey mare peacefully grazing, Gyda notes Lanthir standing next to her. He looks just as stoic and cold as the day she had met him. And during training his icy exterior rarely cracked. But now there was a spark of respect in his eyes.

"Lanthir." She greets with a curt nod as he hands her Ilya's reigns.

"Gyda."

"I shall miss our battles." She cracks a small smile. "you fight better than most I know." She grins as she holds her hand out.

Lanthir clasps her forearm as she does his firmly. "Galu, Gyda of the Queen's guard."

Gyda feels pride swell in her chest. She is more than her father's daughter now.

"Galu, Mellon nin."

Releasing his forearm, Gyda pulls herself on Ilya's saddle, stirring her beloved companion towards where Galion is waiting with the others.

"Homeward we go." Galion shouts as they march over the old weathered bridge in quick gallops.

And as her thoughts drift to Imladris, Gyda does not see the elven prince of Mirkwood appearing next to Lanthir, a guilty and regretful look upon his face.

*。☆。
★。＼｜／。★
𝙢𝙖𝙮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳
𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝙨𝙪𝙣
𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙡𝙨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝙢𝙤𝙤𝙣 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙠𝙨

─ j.r.r tolkien

⋆⋅ ━━━━ ‧ ༻✩༺ ‧ ━━━━ ⋅⋆

THE HIDDEN VALLEY IS A WELCOMING SIGHT DESPITE THE HEAVY RAINS THAT HAD STARTED TO POUR ON THEM JUST AS THE SUN WAS RISING FROM BEHIND THE TREELINE. FATIGUE HAD ALREADY MADE A HOME in her bones, but despite the cold that threatened to freeze her skin, a warmth blossoms inside her chest at the sight of Imladris. The many towering mountains slick with rain and the familiar rush of falling water a comforting feeling.

Gyda breaths in the familiar scents surrounding her as they slowly stride towards the palace Imladris, where surely elves are awaiting them. Galion rides beside her as they cross the final bridge and Lindir, Lord Elrond and his sons stand waiting beneath an alcove to shield them from the rain.

A smile breaks out on her face at the sight of Elladan and Elrohir standing tall next to their father, but upon second glance a frown appears on her face. Elgarain is not stood beside either ellon, nor is she next to her mentor. She carefully masks her concern into a neutral expression when they are only a couple feet away from the small gathering of elves.

Gyda dismounts Ilya with well-practiced ease before striding towards the group with her back straight and hand on the hilt of her sword.

"Mae g'ovannen." Lord Elrond speaks clearly above the sound of falling rain. "It is good to see you all in good health once more."

"As is it to see you my Lord." Cerwyn greets him with a bow and Gyda does the same.

"Gyda welcome back!" Elladan is the first to walk forward and engulf her in a warm embrace, not caring for the rain that is soaking his tunic. Gyda laughs, wrapping her own arms around his strong frame. "I was afraid those Mirkwood elves had thrown you in a dungeon of some sorts."

Galion snorts, thinking back to their conversation after meeting with King Thranduil for the first time.

"She could have been." He whispers when he notices Elrond is in deep conversation with Cerwyn. "You should have been there Ellandan." He slings his arm around Gyda's shoulder, bringing the Elleth closer to his chest. "Gyd almost started a civil war in the throne room."

Gyda pushes him aside, jabbing her elbow in his ribs and he hisses. "I did not."

"Could have fooled me, the way you spoke to Thranduil."

Gyda rolls her eyes, "He should have watched the way he spoke of the Aranel— speaking of Elgarain, where is she? I hope she's not hiding from me already?" she speaks the words jokingly but when concern flashes across Elladan's face she tenses.

"Elladan? Where is Elgarain."

"You've missed quite a bit mellon." He frowns. "I think she could use someone to talk to."

Gyda blinks and unsurely looks between the twins and Galion standing next to her. "I don't think she'd want to talk about her troubles with me."

Galion nudges her. "You won't know if you do not try."

Hesitantly, Gyda nods before reaching for her bag attached to Ilya's saddle and grabbing the newly crafted glaive covered by a soft cloth from where she had tied it. "Then I shall try." She catches Lord Elrond's gaze when she speaks those words and if the twinkle in his eyes is anything to go by, he heard more of their exchange than he'd had let on.

She nods once to her companions before departing from the keep and slowly walking the familiar paths that lead to the sleeping quarters. It's a strange sight, to once again see the beige colored pillars covered by ivy and the light that illuminates the open spaces. A stark contrast to the dark halls she had lived in for the last month.

Before she realizes it, she stands in front of a familiar door. No sounds echo from behind Elgarain's door and Gyda raises her fist to knock, once, twice, thrice before letting it drop limply by her side.

A beat of silence, before shuffling feet resound from behind the door and it is swung open.

"Gyda?"

Elgarain's surprised whisper and furrowed brow greet her and Gyda feels worry swirl in her gut at the sight of her red-rimmed eyes. "You're back."

"Hello Elgarain." She smiles, a small tug of her upper lip, "Can I come in?"

Elgarain blinks before taking a step back, eying her as if she is watching a ghost. "Yes."

Taking a step inside the brightly lit bedchamber, Gyda observes as Elgarain moves sluggishly around the room, as if she has just woken up from a dream and isn't sure if she again walks among the living.

It's clear that whatever troubles her, is a subject not gladly spoken off out loud. Gyda is not sure that whatever troubles her, is something she has even come to terms with herself as her eyes dart around the room, lingering on an open sketchbook on her dresser.

Gyda can faintly make out the profile of the human boy she had seen frequent the healing halls.

"I've brought you something." Gyda holds up the clothed glaive with both hands to present it to Elgarain.

She watches as the princess approaching her with unsure steps, as if believing her words to be untrue. "I know you wanted to learn to wield the weapon of our people."

Elgarain grabs the cloth with both hands before sitting down on her bed and carefully untie the cord and unwrap the cloth to reveal the light colored glaive. Before she can speak, Gyda continues. "My father made me my first spear when I became a hundred years old. To start my warrior training with. He crafted it, and infused it with things that reminded him of me. Oak as the base, for it is strong, the bronze coreopsis flower carved in for strength." She pauses as she watches Elgarain's finger glide over the design she made. Your father is not here to make you one, so I did."

"I made yours from arbor fortis. It's a wood native to Mirkwood. It is just as strong as oak, but lighter in weight. More balanced for those who possess less strength." She tries to jest, hoping to gain a chuckle or at least a smile from the princess, but her expression doesn't change. "The flowers are orchids. They bring good luck, harmony and balance."

Elgarain studies the spear closely and though the usual spark is missing from her eyes, a smile tugs at her lips. "I'm honored," she speaks softly.

"You should be able to learn the art of the spear." She murmurs, "I should not have denied you when you had asked it of me. It was a selfish decision because I did not want you to get hurt. I should have known earlier that keeping you defenseless is what will get your hurt. I should know I cannot always be by your side to protect you, so it is my duty to make sure you can protect yourself."

"But how did you know I started training with a spear?" Elgarain wonders.

"I didn't..." Gyda frowns, "please tell me you haven't been fighting with a spear Aranel."

"No, of course not..."

"Don't lie to me."

"But you told me to say no! besides Elladan, Elrohir and Estel—I mean Aragorn, were with me when the orcs attacked us in the woods."

"Orcs!?" Gyda's eyes widen at the words, a hint of confusion swirling inside her head at the sound of the unfamiliar name that had fallen from the aranel's lips.

"I shouldn't have said that."

Gyda shakes her head, "It's okay. You're not hurt, that's what matters."

Elgarain frowns at her. "You're not going to lecture me? What happened to you in Mirkwood?"

Gyda hums, "I don't always lecture you Aranel. I only fondly discourage you from impulsive decisions."

"Well, I wish you were here to discourage me from another impulsive decision I made," she sighs as she places the spear beside her and wraps her arms around her knees.

Gyda frowns at the solemn sight of her normally joyous princess. It was far from what she expected to find upon her return. Taking a deep breath she walks over to the bed and takes a seat next to her. "Do you want to tell me what happened?"

"Not really," she mutters but then turns her eyes to Gyda. "But I have feeling you're gonna make me talk either way."

"You're assumption is correct," Gyda smiles.

Elgarain looks away from her again, searching for the right words, wondering where to even start. "Have you ever experienced the meeting of souls?"

Gyda frowns, about to answer no when briefly the silver-haired elf of Mirkwood flashes before her eyes. But she forces the image down and shakes her head.

"My mom used to tell me about it," Elgarain continues in a whisper. "I always thought that when I felt it...nothing could take it from me." She chuckles bitterly. "But of course I had to fall in love with a human. The heir of Isildur no less. And now I'm destined to be alone for the rest of my life."

"My mother told me that that Manwë makes no mistakes when it comes to twin flames. The love that blossoms in the meeting of the souls isn't just a jumble of fleeting passion, it is a feeling deeper within your soul that recognizes a part of yourself in someone else. And destined love cannot be broken, and you will never lose it."

Elgarain smiles softly. "Thank you." She gestures to the spear. "For your words and the spear."

"We can start training in the morning, after your healing lessons with Lord Elrond." Gyda suggests, placing a warm hand on Elgarain's cold shoulder.

Suddenly Elgarain looks a little uncomfortable. "Well, actually, Lord Elrond told me he believes I'm ready. To go home and be crowned Queen." She takes a shaky breath. "I'm not sure I agree but I know, now more than ever, that I have to try. If not for myself then for the people. All I can do is hope our people will grant me the same faith they had in my father." She turns to look at Gyda. "I hope that you will grant me that."

"I could grant you my faith Elgarain, but you have had it since the moment we've left Lindon's keep. It was only faith in yourself that you needed to grow from young princess into queen. The journey ahead is still long and unfinished as is mine. "She pauses as if the mull over her words, "You shall always have to keep learning, to be better, but if the people should put faith in anyone, it should be you."

"What if I don't live up to their expectations now? What if I fail to live up to the legacy my father made for our family?"

"You're not your father Elgarain, and neither am I mine. " she says softly, "We carry their legacy, but we will make our own. Together."

Elgarain smiles, the first real smile since Gyda entered her room. "Does that mean we're truly going home?"

"We are." Gyda feels warmth spread through her at the thought.

Home. What a wonderful sound

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ELVISH TRANSLATIONS

Hanta — thank you
aranal — princess
Novaer — farewell
galu — good luck
mellon nin — my friend
Mae g'ovannen — greeting
mellon — friend

📚 that was it for act one! Me and Nel are very excited to get into act two with of official canon stuff... and some changes 👀