Turwaithiel's PoV

It has been 5 days since I came to stay with Laralen's family. I had not intended to stay so long but the welcoming warmth that Laralen and her brother had given me was enough to make me stay for a while longer. I had not anticipated to miss the feeling of having company just weeks after leaving the confinements of my home.

Laralen had been nothing but a gracious host and a good friend. We had spent the other day talking about what lay beyond the borders that stood right at the edge of where their house stood. She had told me many things, of her life long ago when she had been a little child. The memories of her old home, but somehow it stopped only to the point where she had turned 13 and had caught the attention of a far more older man.

I helped around the house as much as I could. It was 3 days ago that I had learned that Bleon did not speak. Laralen had said he just stopped talking one night and she had been trying to get him to speak again but to no avail. She would often talk of her parents but would not prolong the subject.

I cleaned the dishes and swept the floor as Laralen sold things at the market. She had a garden behind their home and a few cows she had inherited from the previous owner. It was an elderly lady who had taken them in when she found Laralen wandering the streets of Bree with a boy in her arms. Laralen said that it was the most devastating night she had ever had. She almost lost Bleon. As time passed, I found myself more ready to open up to her. I had told her of Mantheniel and Lord Elrond and of the place I used to live. It came as a surprise to me that she did not know anything about Rivendell or any of the kingdoms of middle-earth. I used to think it was knowledge provided to everyone.

I sat across her in the lounge. It was already night and a fire was burning in the hearth. Laralen had a few wonderful talents, one of them being her skill with charcoal. She could sketch a landscape by pure memory but what she liked most to draw was people's faces. She had shown me a bunch of works she had made admitting that, sometimes, she did not ask the persons permission and therefore could not put a name on her drawing.

She was good with a needle too and confessed that most of what she and Bleon wore, she had made herself. The lady who owned the house had taught her so. She had died not two winters ago. Taken by a cold one winter night when nothing could seem to keep her warm. Laralen had not experienced the pain of loss until that unfaithful day.

She sat across me, a table board on her lap as she busied herself with her sketching. Smudges were on her face as she had the habit of touching it as she drew. I sat rigidly before her, making sure I would not move even though she had told me I could. We had been here since noon. Bleon sat beside her on a sofa and had fallen asleep when the sun had set.

Her emerald eyes glanced back up at me and I held my expression firm. The corners of her lips tugged a little before she continued her work. I had agreed to let her draw my face simply because she had begged me for 'she had never drawn an elf before'. It seemed to make her happy, so I was not one to complain.

"Almost," she murmured to herself as she seemed to be spreading something on the paper with her fingers. She pushed the wooden board before her, her eyes examining it before a triumphant  gleam appeared in her eyes. She turned the board around with a proud grin and showed me her drawing. I could not help but marvel at it. But could not, for the life of me, think of a good response that would not make me sound so vain.

"Your skill is magnificent!" I exclaim after finally choosing the words. She accepted my compliment with an elated happiness that seemed to radiate off her naturally. She turned the board back to her and nodded her head as if agreeing with the quality of her work.

"Thank you for allowing me to sketch you, Turwaithiel," she grins as she placed the board on the dining table. She then took the paper off and handed it to me with a quill pen.

"Would you write your name at the bottom?" She asked, the pen in her hand. She had a quick change in demeanor before she composed herself. I took the pen without question and wrote my name, in our dialect. She hovered over my shoulder, watching my hands move. When I handed the materials back to her, she seemed to fall engrossed to the letters of my name.

"I could teach you Sindarin if you wish?" I quip, and she seemed surprise by my sudden offer. Then her smile faded as she stared at the symbols on the paper.

"I cannot even write in my language let alone yours," she confessed, her voice low. "Sindarin is quite beautiful to look at. They are all just symbols and lines to me, except for the words that I see in town often."

I had realized then that Laralen did not know how to read or write save for the common terms used in the market and her name, as well as Bleon. She flashed me another grin before walking over to the enormous stack of papers piled on top of the wooden box just outside her bedroom. I stood quietly for a moment. It was my first time knowing someone who did not have the luxury of being taught how to read or write. The outside world truly is different. I remembered the first time I had read a word of English out loud. Elrond was standing across the table from me, his face stern as he waited for me to read the first passage of the book.

---

His face was nothing short of an angry lord that was no doubt going to scold me once he realizes I have not been studying.

He waited patiently as I opened the book before me, my small fingers barely gripping the thick bounds. He was teaching me the language of men. I had already perfected the languages of our kind, both Quenya and Sindarin.

I stared at the book before me, the words seemed to be moving around. I glanced back up at his look of expectations and decided to go for it. What was the worst he could do? Make me write a paragraph or two about how knowledge was important.

I cleared my throat, my voice barely even raising to a whisper.

"Stow- ree. Stow reez of old," I start and gave him a quick glance to see how I was doing. He gestured for me to continue, I swallowed the lump in my throat.

"Dee, crators of dee-" I stopped, already feeling the frustration build inside me.

"Go on, you are almost there." He encourages with a quick nod of his head. My lips form into a thin grimace as I shut the book.

"Why do I have to learn their language?" I ask, crossing my hands over my chest. He let out a heavy breath as he walked over to one of the windows, where the sunlight creeped in.

"It is a language known by many, Turwaithiel. It will aid you in so many ways," he explained. I jump out of my seat and join him by the window. I place my elbows on the stone sill and gazed at the view of the waterfall.

"You know, Turwaithiel. Not many people get the chance to learn things as much as our kind," he continues, his hand smoothing down my shoulder length hair. I began to pout. Why was it that our kind loved learning so much?

"Knowledge is power, my dear. You may one day put them to good use."

"When? It is not like I am going to leave this place or mingle with other races." I argue with my chin jolted up high. His hand ruffles my hair as a chuckle escaped his lips.

"Elfling's do have the stubbornness of dwarves," he commented before going back to the table. I turned to face him, his one hand outstretched towards the book I had left behind.

"You may not have use of it yet but, I guarantee you what you learn will always have a time and place to be used," he gestures to the book once more and I drag my feet over, "Maybe someday, you might share your knowledge," he adds and I plop myself back on the chair, opening the book reluctantly.

I drew in a breath and opened my mouth to begin again.

---

Now that I thought about that memory, I felt slightly foolish. For someone who loathed learning when I was young, I sure did grow out of it. Now I cannot even begin to think what might have happened if I had not dived into all those books long ago. I let a smile slip across my lips before glancing back up at Laralen who had shut the wooden box tight, her talent hidden beneath.

She went to carry Bleon and place him on his bed. I stayed staring at the hearth that seemed to never be warm enough for Laralen or Bleon. I hear Laralen in Bleon's room, her voice carrying out a melody. A lullaby she would sing to him, about a maiden who found a palace made of starlight.

I listened quietly before making the decision of teaching Laralen how to read and write. Lord Elrond never seems to be wrong.

The song stopped and Laralen stepped quietly out the door. She saw me still sitting by the hearth and approached me with a brow raised.

"You do not feel like sleeping? Elves really do not tire that easily, huh," she comments as she sat on the chair she had sat when sketching my portrait. I shake my head at her and thought of how to introduce to her my idea of teaching. She seemed to sense something as she waited patiently, tucking the loose strands of her hair behind her ear.

"Are you tired?" I asked and she shook her head, a curious expression on her face. I smiled, " May I have 2 pieces of parchment paper and 2 pens?"

She narrowed her eyes but stood up and had gotten the materials for me. She handed them to me and stood beside me, waiting for me to do something most probably. Her inquisitive stare was enough for me to know she wanted to learn. I place the papers on the table and gestured for her to sit down beside me. She did so and waited. I handed her one pen and took the other as I sat on the chair beside her.

"What are we doing?" She asked, her emerald eyes shining. My smile broadened and her eyes narrowed.

"We are going to learn how to read and write." I say and her skin glowed red as she averted her eyes. I felt a pang of guilt all of a sudden. I started to doubt what I thought was a good idea. Then I noticed her eyes glistening and I desperately thought of a way to save the situation when she turned to me with smile.

"Thank you, Turwaithiel," she said as her hands that held the pen shook.

"You do not know how much I have wanted to learn." There was a certain tone in her voice that seemed sad. I smile reassuringly at her and placed my arm over hers softly.

"Then we shall learn." I stated as she gave an excited nod of her head.

It was when the sun had creeped out from the shadows of the night that she had decided to go to sleep. She was a fast learner. I stared at the piece of paper she had left on the table and smiled to myself.

Lord Elrond was always right.

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Authors note: Hello! I just got out of the hospital. xD haha anyways, here is another chapter. Any thoughts? Haha

Thank you for all the kind comments and support you guys. :) I really do appreciate them. Vote? Comment? Fan girl?

Lets eat, I am hungry. Haha I actually spent the 2 days in the hospital reading 'there and back again' its like a book about tolkien and the origins of the hobbit. And there was a nurse there who was a fan so we talked a lot. - On a completely random note. Haha anyways, I also spend the early mornings watching bts videos of the cast and crew of lotr and the hobbit and Orlando Bloom is just adorable.

Much love, and lembas bread.

xo