Lasgalen pondered deeply that night, and unlike the previous ones, she was filled with beautiful sensations.
She felt comfort, serenity, and perhaps even moments of happiness.
She had the support she had long needed, she lived among her people, and was treated as an equal to everyone else. She had seen the city for the first time, with its colors, sounds, and scents. The light that had filled that day seemed to illuminate her soul, weakening the deep darkness that had lingered in her heart for centuries. She realized it was possible to have a sweet life again, a life full of affection, and perhaps even love, in all its forms. It wouldn't be the life she had before her abduction, nor the life she would have led if her parents had never been killed. But it could still be a good life. She could live for the pure pleasure of doing so, and serve her people whenever needed. She had to admit that the sensation from her first kill had not left her body or mind. She still had that nauseating sense of death and the taste of iron in her nostrils. However, she knew it wouldn't stop her from killing again if necessary.

She thought back to Gil-Galad, and how he and her father were connected. She had never imagined it, not even in her wildest dreams, and honestly, she had never thought of it during her years of captivity. She had forgotten that somewhere in Middle-earth, there was an elf who would consider her a relative if only he had found her.

She put on a green dress and donned a cloak of a similar color, fastened by the magnificent brooch of Elrond, and beneath the dress, she secretly wore Gil-Galad's pendant, with only the silver chain visible.

Before she could have breakfast, she ran into Galadriel on the porch where the bedrooms opened.

"Good morning, just stepped out?" the redhead asked with a smile.

That elf, when she thought about it, probably had less of an age difference with her father than with her. Galadriel had lived during the First Age and had witnessed its horrors. Lasgalen had probably not even glimpsed what Morgoth's evil must have been like, a powerful evil that devoured everything in its path. But the light had triumphed. The light always triumphs, her mother used to say.

During her years of captivity, she had stopped believing in it. She had stopped believing in anything. She lived only because her body kept moving and her heart kept beating. But in the end, the light had triumphed over her as well and had led her right into the arms of the elf her father had wanted to take care of her. How strong must the elves of the First Age have been to fight until the end with the will and hope of triumphing? Perhaps it was because they were absolutely certain of the power of the light that they kept moving forward.

"In fact, I was just coming to knock on your door, I want to show you a new structure" the blonde said with a smile, leading the curious redhead.
Would there be something new every day?
But after all, what did she know of the world, having lived until recently in her seemingly safe grove? They circled the palace until they reached a wide garden. The sun was already high, and the golden trees amplified the light considerably, creating a breathtaking view. That light seemed to pierce through your chest and soothe you, warm you, and make you feel safe. Soon, she saw how most of the trees were carved. Those towering wooden trunks were home to large statues carved to resemble warriors or ancient lords. It was a place of memory. Lasgalen was fascinated, and she noticed how Galadriel seemed perfectly at ease in that environment. They stopped in front of the statue of a young elf holding a sword.

"Hello brother" said the blonde, kneeling briefly before the tree.
Lasgalen watched the scene with both sadness and surprise. In all those years of life and part of the war, it was obvious that Galadriel had lost someone. She couldn't imagine what it was like to lose a brother; she had never had one. But she knew what it meant to lose someone deeply loved.

Her pain hadn't disappeared; it could still be seen in her eyes. The nostalgia for that figure, who had probably inspired or strengthened her. Lasgalen approached timidly and respectfully.

"It's a beautiful statue. He looks like a very strong elf" she said, gazing up at his face.

"He was. He always was. When the light of Valinor dimmed because of Morgoth, and we were forced to come to these lands to defeat him, my brother was at the forefront. He never had any regrets. He always said simply to follow the light" Galadriel spoke the last sentence with difficulty, as if the words had clung tightly to her throat before coming out.

"How did it happen?" Lasgalen asked, looking at the blonde, her face visibly sorrowful.

"He had sworn to track down and kill one of Morgoth's most faithful servants: Sauron. However, it was Sauron's servants who found him first, and he was killed. They branded his flesh with a symbol that, to this day, none of the greatest elven historians have been able to decipher" Galadriel then turned to the redhead, her expression showing obvious strain.

"When we came to rescue you, it wasn't just a random scouting mission. I was, and still am, bound to my brother's oath, which I took upon myself. I was searching for traces of Sauron, and with you, I believe I found them, though the High King refuses to listen" Lasgalen swallowed. It had been sheer luck that led to her being found. It had been a side mission. She didn't know how to feel about it, but she had the sense that Galadriel had unburdened herself by telling her. In that moment, after all the elf had done for her, and with the admiration she felt toward her, Lasgalen had no desire to judge her.

"I'm so sorry, Galadriel, truly" the redhead said, moving closer and placing a hand on the blonde's shoulder.

"Elrond? What does he think?" she added.

"Before our last mission, he thought the same as the King. Now, I can't say. Elrond is my dearest friend and one of the wisest elves I've ever known. He has eyes to see, if he decides to truly look" the blonde concluded, turning her gaze back to her brother's statue. Lasgalen stepped closer, once again looking at the carved elf's face.

"Is this the new structure they've built?" she asked, trying to capture the beauty of the statue and the effort to honor the warrior's memory. Galadriel gave her a gentle look, smiling in return.

"No. Come this way" she said, taking her hand and walking further down the corridor of statues. The further they went, the greater the number of statues. Behind all the beauty and honor lay a staggering number of deaths, and the thought stirred a deep, somber feeling in Lasgalen. How many of them had died? How many lives had been cut short?

Galadriel stopped, while Lasgalen's head still wandered from side to side, searching for details.

"Here it is, this is the new one" at which point Lasgalen raised her eyes toward the tree in front of her and could hardly believe what she saw.

"Gil-Galad had it commissioned the moment he learned of his death, but they only finished it yesterday afternoon."

Lasgalen placed a hand over her open mouth and tearful eyes, just like Galadriel's, who was nearly moved to tears seeing her friend's reaction. Lasgalen knelt before her father's statue, as Galadriel had done for her brother.

It was exactly as she remembered him, like a portrait. She instinctively smiled and touched his feet, bowing her head.

"He can rest as a true warrior now" it didn't take long before tears began to fall from her eyes. Galadriel knelt with her, placing a hand over one of Lasgalen's.

"I miss him so much. I wish I had the chance to say goodbye." Lasgalen wasn't sure if it would have made a difference. She would have lost him all the same, right?
Yet, perhaps he could have given her some comforting words, some advice, one last embrace.

"I know. But he will never be forgotten. Nor will he ever forget you" the blonde whispered, a tear rolling down her cheek. She had seen a reflection of her younger self, centuries ago, when she had lost her brother.

"The only thing you can do, if it is what you wish, is try to prevent any other elf from facing the hardships you both faced. And then, follow the light. It will always lead us to the right path."

Lasgalen took a long breath, quickly wiping her cheeks as a gust of wind blew her hair from her face. There were so many paths to follow. Justice, revenge, indifference, service.

"How do I know which light to follow?" she wondered aloud, looking at her father's face.

"When we were still in Valinor, long before Morgoth's coming, I asked my brother the same question. He told me that, to find the true light, you must first touch the darkness" Galadriel replied, gazing at her father's face as well.

Both had touched the darkness. Galadriel more than Lasgalen, and she seemed to have found the light she needed to follow. For Lasgalen, it might have been too early, but to find her light, she could start by helping her friend. After a long silence, Lasgalen spoke.

"If you ever need two extra hands for your quest, know that you'll have mine" the redhead said, looking at her with a smile. Galadriel returned the same look.

"If that helps you find your light, I will gladly expose you to extreme danger" she joked, and they both burst into laughter.

"But I think I'll take a short break from searching for Sauron at the edges of Middle-earth. With you, I've realized that evil may be closer than I ever thought, and I think I'll stay on guard around here for a while" the blonde added, becoming serious again.

Lasgalen looked at her and nodded lightly. It was probably the wisest thing to do. Ensure no immediate danger was present before worrying about the one that would surely return in the future.

"My sword and bow are yours, Galadriel" she said with a slight smile. The blonde returned the smile, squeezing the redhead's hand.

"They will never be mine. I don't want them to be. But if they accompany me, I will be glad to accept them" she said sincerely. The two embraced with a deep sigh. A long hug that both needed.

We elves feel things differently. We feel them more deeply

Her father had told her. And she couldn't help but agree.

The day continued peacefully, and Lasgalen decided to request an audience with the High King to thank him for the statue erected for her father. The King was immediately informed, and Lasgalen was just as quickly granted permission. She entered the council hall, where the King was studying some maps on the table. Who knows if something was troubling him.

"Good morning, High King. Forgive me if I'm disturbing you" she said, cautiously stepping into the hall in her green dress.

The King immediately looked up and offered her a small smile.

"You're no disturbance, Lasgalen. Tell me" he replied in a calm tone, clasping his hands in front of him.

"I just wanted to thank you for my father's statue. Galadriel took me to see it this morning. It was a wonderful surprise to know that his memory will remain indelible beside the warriors he fought with" she said, her grateful eyes meeting his. He was a person quite different from her father in almost every way, except for his height. Her father had been extremely outgoing, talkative, lively, and energetic, just like her. Gil-Galad, on the other hand, appeared very calm, composed, quiet, and rather reserved. She couldn't tell if time or his role had made him this way, yet there was something in his eyes that reminded her of her father.

Perhaps a light or something similar. Both seemed to have the inability to reveal their emotions through their eyes, it seemed. The man gave her a slight smile.

"It was the obvious thing to do. Your father and I always had the feeling that our lives would end here, in these lands. He has taken the place that rightfully belonged to him, alongside the elves he fought with during the First Age,l" he said, heading toward the exit and stopping on the wooden porch, where the sunlight hit them strongly. Lasgalen followed him without hesitation and stood by his side. As soon as her figure met the light, Elrond's brooch began to shine brilliantly. She looked at it with a smile.

"A truly enchanting jewel" he said to her.

She touched the brooch, still smiling.

"It is a gift. Elrond gave it to me" she replied. She would never forget her friend's words, nor the beautiful gesture. That brooch would always remind her that light existed, that it was strong and brave. It was immortal.
Gil Galad smiled before raising his gaze to the horizon.

"My father always told me about this place, promising to bring me here soon to meet his found brother. But I never imagined there could be so much beauty and light in a single place" she said, enchanted by the light reflecting off the sea, creating sparkles.

"I wonder why he wanted to raise me away from all of this" she pondered aloud.

"The life of a palace warrior is not the best for raising a child or fully living with one's family" the elf responded.

"Then why not in a nearby city?"

"Because I believe your father wanted you to live as long as possible away from the painful memories these cities still carry. He had eternity to tell you. He wasn't in a hurry. And I understand that" Gil Galad concluded.

After a brief pause, Lasgalen spoke.

"I'm happy to be here. I truly am" she said, looking at the elf, who turned to her with a comforting expression.

"I'm very glad, Lasgalen."

From one side of the porch, Myria appeared, looking for Lasgalen for their training session.

"Oh, forgive me, High King" Myria said once she realized she had interrupted a conversation.

"There is nothing to apologize for, Myria. You may go" Lasgalen made a slight bow and followed Myria, who mirrored the gesture.

Lasgalen went to change while talking to Myria in the room, and then they quickly headed to the training field.

The days continued to pass peacefully, and everyone was always present at the training sessions: Galadriel, Lindir, Myria, and Daenor. Elrond often skipped them, being busy with his position as the King's Herald.

"Here come the late princesses" Lindir said, teasing Lasgalen and Myria as they arrived.

"Princesses are never late, Lindir" added Galadriel with a smirk, having just finished sharpening her sword. Indeed, she was always on time.

Daenor watched the scene, amused, and his eyes couldn't help but rest on Lasgalen. They began training immediately, which ended a few hours later.

Lasgalen found herself sitting on the marble steps surrounding the open training yard, drinking some water from her tunic. Her hair was tied in a long ponytail, and her face was slightly beaded with sweat. She watched the last round of soldiers as they trained. She often arrived early or stayed late to observe others' techniques. She always found something new to learn from watching them, and over time, she tried to put into practice what she had observed. A figure sat beside her with a quick movement, and just as quickly, she turned her gaze in that direction. She found Daenor sitting next to her, and immediately looked ahead again, reassured by his presence. Her reflexes were still sharp, even though she was aware that, at least in this palace, she was safe. They sat in silence for a few moments before he spoke.

"I've noticed you always stay to watch others train if you get the chance" he said, still looking ahead. The redhead wiped her forehead with her right sleeve before responding.

"I enjoy observing others' techniques, both to learn from them and to understand their defense strategies" she said.

The blonde elf smirked.

"What?" she asked, looking at him with a slight smile.

"Nothing, it's just that your insatiable curiosity amuses me. Like Elrond, only you prefer to put things into practice" he replied, maintaining the smile.

The redhead smiled, then looked forward as the sun was setting.

"I know you've known Elrond for a long time, but did you lose much time learning my habits?" she asked provocatively.
Galadriel had told her how the elf enjoyed flirting with young elf-maidens in the city. At the palace, no one was fooled by him anymore because of his reputation, but with a newcomer, he probably couldn't resist the temptation.

"Not too much. In my free time" he answered, looking at her. She observed him with a scrutinizing gaze, one eyebrow slightly raised.

"All of your free time? Wow, I must be very interesting."

"I've known everyone in this palace for centuries. You're the only one I don't know" he added, leaning his elbows on the step behind them.

"Oh, I see, so it's just routine" she added playfully.

"Exactly."

"I thought you were studying me because I had something special" she said, adjusting her tunic at her hips.

"You don't need me to realize you're special."

There it was. One of those lines she expected to hear. The typical things heartbreakers say to everyone.

Lasgalen didn't reply, limiting herself to making a playful grimace. They both stood up at the same time, and he spoke again.

"Do you know the view from the roof of the west tower?" he asked, trying to catch her gaze, but didn't succeed.

"I've been here too little time to break the rules about places and schedules" she replied, amused, as she began to turn away.

"Well, I can take you there tonight. You can see the entire city from above. It's beautiful when it's lit up." Lasgalen paused. The thought of being alone with an elf she didn't know that well made her uneasy. The only two with whom this didn't happen were Elrond and Gil Galad, probably due to the trust and bond they had developed for different reasons.

"Uh... maybe another time, I'm really tired today" she said, taking a few steps before being stopped again by his voice.

"We won't be alone. Many elves go there at night. It's a great place to enjoy the view and chat" he tried to convince her in a reassuring tone.
They wouldn't be alone. Lasgalen was still inevitably tied to her past, to the tortures and violence she had endured, and men were what she feared most.
However, she thought of her father, of Galadriel, and of the promise she had made to herself to try to move forward. Besides, she knew how to defend herself very well. Deep down, she knew she wouldn't need to. Daenor might act superior, but he would never harm anyone, let alone a close friend of Galadriel and the King's protégé. Having their protection reassured her.
So, she turned around.

"Alright, I'll see you there" she replied simply with a slight smile.

"Shall I come pick you up?" he asked with a big smile.

"There's no need, I'll find the way."
Of course, Lasgalen would go well before nightfall to check if what Daenor had said was true and that they wouldn't be left alone.
It wasn't a date, and it never would be for her, especially since that kind of affection was the last thing on her mind at the time. In fact, it frightened her.

At twilight, she found her way to the tower's roof. It was true. Along the side of the roof, there were small groups of elves, quietly chatting and admiring the city as it began to light up.
Lasgalen, therefore, settled in a non-isolated spot on the roof and began to watch the city as it didn't grow dark, illuminated by stars and lanterns. It was simply quieter.
After a few hours, Daenor appeared.

"Early?" he asked her.

"I have this habit" she replied, smiling at him.

"Or prudence. In any case, both good habits" he added, sitting next to her, not too close.
Lasgalen realized Daenor was much more perceptive than she had initially thought.

"The city is truly beautiful from here, thank you for showing me this place" she told him, arms crossed on her knees, her head resting on them.

"It's my pleasure. I've known it since I was a child, and I also showed it to Lindir and Myria. Galadriel and Elrond, of course, know almost everything."
Lasgalen had the feeling that even the King knew, but that he let it be. After all, what harm could they do? They were all very calm. And the times when one could enjoy peace and admire tranquility should have been valued more than any wealth ever known.

"I never told you how sorry I am, Lasgalen" he began, looking at her.

"For what?" she asked, perplexed, lifting her head.

"For what I saw." Lasgalen still didn't understand.

"I was part of the group of elves that destroyed the camp where you were held prisoner."
Lasgalen felt her blood freeze. She thought she had thanked all her rescuers. Galadriel had brought her to them, so why not him?

"Don't be angry with Galadriel, I asked her not to bring you to me"
The young elf was now more serious, and the city's charm had faded into the dark blue sky.

"Why?" she asked, stiffening, almost wanting to move away. This meant he had seen those men, those women, those carts and instruments of torture, her chains, and the state she was in when she passed out in the woods.

"Because I was ashamed" he added, and the redhead remained puzzled by his words.

"I am a half-elf."
Of course, he was half-elf and half-human. Just like Elrond, he must have chosen immortality. And yet, part of him had always been human. Lasgalen looked ahead, slightly less tense.

"So... you saw what I looked like" she said, swallowing, thinking of her body scarred by torture.

"Yes... I was there when you fainted.
You were calling for your mother."
So it was true, he was one of the two blurred figures she had seen above her before losing consciousness. Suddenly, she felt as if she were naked before him and everyone present. She shook her head and put a hand to her forehead.

"Why did you tell me?" She would have preferred not to know. Knowing that there were other elves who had seen the body she was so ashamed of drove her crazy.

"I didn't want to keep this secret any longer. I was an idiot for not revealing myself immediately, but I let shame overwhelm me."

"That's stupid. It's certainly not your fault or your human half's fault for what happened. And humanity is not entirely like that" her voice was cold, annoyed, and distant. She was quite nervous. Then she quickly turned towards him, looking him in the eyes.

"Are there others? Elves I don't know about? You have to tell me" her face was serious and impassive, and his seemed to read the anger and shame she bore on her face.

"No, I'm the last one, I swear. At least of those who brought you here, for sure" of course, the healers must have seen her, but his presence had probably been deliberately kept unnoticed. His eyes seemed sincere, and Lasgalen stepped back.
A silence began, one that seemed much longer than it was.

"You have nothing to be ashamed of, Lasgalen, nothing."

"You all say that as if it were so simple" she said with a shrug, her tone sarcastic, tired of hearing the same things.

"Do you have any idea how many elves there are with scars and large, unhealed wounds hidden by magic?" he said, searching for her gaze. She met his eyes.

"Know that at least half of this army has them. So you're not alone, and you're certainly not the only one who chooses to hide certain parts of yourself" her face relaxed.

"Are you serious?" she asked him.

"Of course, I'm serious. There's nothing wrong with wanting to look in the mirror and see your unscathed self. You're not deceiving anyone. It's you. And you can keep your scars only for those you truly trust and those who have your heart" he continued in a calm tone.
Lasgalen felt much calmer hearing those words, but the next morning she would ask Elrond if it was all true.

"Those wounds are the result of hard-fought battles. Of combat. Mine are only filled with humiliation and torture. A shame to our race."

"What are you talking about? It's the shame of men. If you don't stop feeling sorry for yourself and blaming yourself for things that were out of your control, things you couldn't do anything about, you will never heal."

"Did I ask for your help?"

"No, but you clearly need it."

"Mind your own business, Daenor. They say you live much longer when you do that."

The redhead stood up, upset, ready to leave.

"Lasgalen, wait. I was just trying to help, I didn't mean to be intrusive or make you feel at fault."

The redhead slightly turned her face.

"You truly think you have that much power? Leave me alone Daenor, please."

Lasgalen quietly went down and returned to her room. She was angry, very angry. She opened the window, looking at the trees outside her room.
Earlier she had been so high up, now so low.
She didn't understand Daenor's interest in her, and at that moment, it annoyed her.
She needed time, and the fact that he acted like she didn't made her furious.

Maybe she was just angry that he too had seen the body she was so ashamed of.
Maybe she had overreacted in speaking to him that way, caught up in the turmoil.
But she didn't care at that moment.
The next day, she would go to Elrond, who surely knew about Daenor's presence that day. The blond had mentioned making a promise with Galadriel, but with him?