Yesenia was accompanied by the two elves outside the infirmary wing. She wasn't the only one who had been there in recent days. She saw elves lying on beds through some open doors. The rooms opened onto a wooden corridor with supporting columns, leading to a large, multi-tiered garden overrun with greenery. The sun was still shining despite it being late afternoon, and its warmth on her skin made her close her eyes for a moment, her light lashes almost disappearing.

"Here she is, she's the leader of the team that saved you. I don't see the others right now, but I'm sure they're nearby" said Silwen, pointing to an elf sitting on a white marble bench. Her long, blonde hair shimmered like golden threads in the sunlight, brighter than Idril's, which seemed paler by comparison.

"Do you want us to come with you?" added the blonde, but Yesenia, who had been staring at the seated elf, shook her head slightly and looked at the two with a calm expression.

"There's no need. You've been very kind to me; I can go alone." The need to detach from others at that moment seemed like the utmost priority, but she also wanted to know what had happened after she fainted, and if that elf was there, she surely had answers.

The two elves smiled at her, promising to see her later, before disappearing. Yesenia continued to study her surroundings: she was in elven territory, even in the King's palace; there was no rational reason to fear for her safety. Yet, she and her parents had been in Lindon when they were killed. What had been their security back then?

She began to walk slowly, descending the stairs that led to the gardens below, and towards the bench where the elf with long blonde hair was sitting. It was not an empty place: several elves walked back and forth with books in hand, chatting among themselves, or admiring the horizon. All had those pointed ears. She had always thought they were beautiful. And they had been ripped away from her, along with her dignity. Those poorly stitched axe cuts on her ears only made her feel inferior to those beautiful souls surrounding her.

As she walked through the solid stone corridors of the gardens, she reached the bench where the elf was sitting. As soon as the elf saw her, she turned sharply. She had quick reflexes. Her skin was pale and clear, her eyes blue, and her upturned nose accentuated her breathtaking beauty. They scrutinized each other for a moment, without a defined expression, searching for some sign from the other.

"Finally, you've awakened" the elf said with a faint smile, remaining seated, her hands folded on her legs. Yesenia approached with cautious, silent steps.

"You were among those who brought me here; I wanted to thank you for saving my life" said the redhead, continuing to look at her, only averting her gaze at the end.

"Really? Are you happy we saved you?" This question immediately drew Yesenia's attention back to her. The blonde stood up and moved closer. They held each other's gaze, as if the main conversation was taking place in their eyes.

"From what exactly did we save you? From the orcs?" The blonde's question ignited a growing anger in Yesenia, who had the intuition that the elf fully understood the situation.

"Is it really necessary for me to answer that question?" the redhead asked, maintaining her steady gaze. That question, in any case, had already provided an answer.

"What is your name?"

"My name is Galadriel, in the service of High King Gil-Galad. But the real question is who you are" said the other, beginning to circle around her.

The redhead stood firm but stiff as a log while the other examined her with her gaze, never losing sight of Galadriel's hands.

"My name is Yesenia, a grateful soul for your valuable intervention. It would have been even more valuable if you had arrived a few centuries earlier" said the redhead, her tone disturbed and irritable due to Galadriel's bluntness.

"You are angry about what you had to endure, and I imagine immensely confused." What could she know about what Yesenia had suffered? But yes, she was confused and destabilized.

"Immense confusion. Why were you there?" asked the redhead in return.

"For something much greater than you or me, or any other soul in Middle-earth. We have had a false peace for a handful of centuries, but the enemy is still out there plotting his return under our noses. The High King believes I'm too involved, and at the moment he is not giving me the army I need to investigate, but I have good friends with whom to seek more substantial evidence. The pack of orcs we killed before saving you is an example." The great enemy. Who was she referring to? Obviously, Sauron. That evil soul that had sought refuge in the western lands for a very long time, then vanished, evading the judgment of the Valar. That he would return one day was only a matter of time, and her father believed it too.

"I imagine it wasn't the orcs holding you hostage" Galadriel added. This time, compassion flickered in her gaze. She didn't know the redhead's story, but her eyes and appearance betrayed a suffering that cloaked her as she walked-a shadow of endured cruelty that only time could help dispel.

"You're right. But before I say anything about what I know to anyone, I think it's best I speak to the King" Yesenia concluded, eager to find out if the King was aware of the clan of men that had held her captive for centuries.

"I'm sure the King will be glad to receive you as soon as you request it. He has heard of your arrival and is curious to know your story."

"Curiosity? Is that the feeling my appearance inspires in you?" Her voice rose slightly, and that alone was enough to make her spin her head sharply, causing her to sway violently. Galadriel caught her, and the touch of her hands on her body made Yesenia flinch. Her mind couldn't reconcile any thought about physical contact that wasn't violence.

"You should go back to rest and regain your strength. This palace and the King aren't going anywhere" the elf said.

"But men, they are going to go away. They move and destroy" she placed a hand on her head, feeling the strong need to lie down.

"Give your body time to heal, and I swear we will bring down this threat together." Galadriel looked at her with serious, impassive eyes, a willing expression on her face. The first words that came to mind were
I don't know you, what do I care for your promise?
But then she remembered her parents and how the name of a certain Galadriel was not new to her. So she said nothing.

"Are all the men dead?" she asked, staring into space, her jaw weakly clenched.

"They are. But not killed by us" Galadriel replied. She would have wanted to kill them herself, of course. But the thought that they had been killed by creatures as horrible as orcs did not sadden her. Soon after, she returned to her room to rest. Her body, unaccustomed to staying still, seemed to have weakened even more than before. She trembled from time to time, and occasionally elves would come to bring her herbal infusions, water, and food, which she struggled to swallow.

The days passed as if they could not be distinguished from one another. Just a long stretch of time that interrupted only when she got up to go to the bathroom or walked for a few minutes. Her body recovered quickly, given the care, food, and attention the elves had given her. She had to admit she was feeling gratitude: they had taken her without apparent reason and had cared for and fed her until she returned to full strength. Her mind was clear; it hadn't been so for a long time, and she owed it all to them. Her vision had returned sharp, with no more flickering. Her hair had regained its luster, and her teeth their natural whiteness, thanks to specially prepared herbs and waters. Her body seemed literally predisposed to healing. And after weeks spent trying to return to herself, the thought crossed her mind that perhaps there was indeed a reason she needed to stay alive.

She requested an audience with the King about almost two months after her arrival. She was slowly returning to her normal weight, but her skin and hair showed the benefits of elven care and nourishment. The magic of elven medicine would never cease to enchant her. Her mother had been a brilliant healer.

Now she stood before a mirror, wearing a green dress with her hair down her back. As she looked at herself, it was as if she were seeing a ghost from the past: an elf who once existed and then was killed. But she was there; she was right there. She was real.

"The King is ready to see you" Galadriel stood at the open door. The female had proven to be both understanding and straightforward. Honesty was a quality that Yesenia greatly admired, and over the weeks spent there, she was gradually convincing herself that perhaps she could trust her. After all, they would have harmed her by now if they intended to, right?

She would soon have confirmation, and above all, she would discover the truth: did the King know about these abductions and killings in his lands? The redhead gave a slight smile and headed toward the exit of the room. She wore comfortable, soft shoes that made no sound on the floor with each light step.

The two began walking side by side, traversing the bright corridors lit by golden light until they arrived before the King. For Yesenia, it was impossible not to look around like a child every time she walked through the palace halls. Each time, that warm light enchanted her just as it had the first time she saw it.

"Elrond and I will be present at your audience; I hope that's not a problem for you" Galadriel informed her in a calm tone, genuinely hoping not to unsettle the girl. Yesenia, after all, had expected that. A Lieutenant, a trusted companion of Gil-Galad, and his Herald, who was also his cousin-how could they not be present at such an interesting meeting? Yesenia had not spoken to anyone in Lindon. She wanted the King to be the first to know everything. If Galadriel and Elrond were there, they would simply be background figures for her.

"There's no problem at all. Besides, you saved me; you have the right to know" the redhead replied, casting a fleeting glance at the blonde. Her tone was calm and sincere; she truly meant those words.

Soon they found themselves before a large wooden door. Beyond it lay the Council Hall, where the King and his trusted warriors discussed important matters. They found Elrond waiting at the entrance.

"Good morning, my ladies, I was expecting you" he said, offering a big smile to both of them.

"Oh come on, you've been here for less than a minute" Galadriel replied playfully, giving her friend a light tap on the shoulder, which made him laugh in return. Yesenia was too tense to join in the jokes and stared at the door as if it were an ancient, feared monument.
The two elves became more serious as soon as they noticed the young elf's tension, a tension that was building up and could be felt in the air.
The doors soon opened, and the three walked into the great hall. The door was closed by two guards who exited the room. Gil-Galad was turned away from a majestic window that overlooked the cliffs, the golden trees, and the sea. He turned as soon as he sensed the presence of the three, but without haste.

Galadriel and Elrond bowed their heads, and Yesenia did so a few seconds later.

"After all these weeks, you have finally recovered; it is a joy for all of us to know this" were his first words. His voice was powerful, his expression inscrutable. He was very tall, even beyond the standard for elves, with long brown hair and a golden crown shaped like laurel.

The young elf looked him in the eyes, which held a complexity greater than the one of Elrond or Galadriel.

"I don't know how to thank you, High King, for the help of your warriors and your healers" she said simply, standing there in pure tension. She suddenly felt unstable in his presence, as if a breath of wind could make her stumble.

"There is nothing you need to repay. But I admit that I would very much like to hear your story" the moment had finally arrived. She would know; she would have answers. Her heart raced, and her hands trembled, but she hid them by squeezing them together and forced herself to stay calm.

"Of course, my King. I was a prisoner for over two centuries by a group of men. Not just men, but also women. They... killed my parents in an ignoble ambush way and kidnapped me." She had to pause for a moment, her voice beginning to tremble as she felt the sad and remorseful gazes of the three elves upon her.

"They... cut off my ears. They fed them to the dogs. They... hated elves. They said we were the greediest creatures of all. They were nomads; we never stayed in one place long, we hid in the woods." She noticed the King's fists clenching as he continued to listen, and she looked down for a moment.

Galadriel couldn't believe what she was hearing, and unlike Elrond, who seemed filled with horror and sorrow, she was becoming increasingly angry.

"They were men of Morgoth, weren't they?" the blonde said, stepping forward, her tone harsh and eager for answers, though she didn't want to be rude to the redhead.

"Lieutenant. Let the elf finish" Gil-Galad shot her a stern look, and Galadriel returned to her place.

"I don't know if they were men who escaped captivity after Morgoth's defeat. They certainly didn't belong to any kingdom of men, in any case. So I can't provide an answer."

The redhead paused for a moment before spitting out a long-held grievance.

"Did you know? My lord? Did you know that masterless men have roamed your lands, your woods for centuries, killing elves silently and ignobly?" She took a few steps forward, her eyes glistening with rage and pain at the mere thought of what she had seen and experienced. Gil-Galad slowly approached her. He looked at her, puzzled, yet with a kind gaze.

He reached her and extended his right hand to move her hair away from her ears. She instinctively recoiled, as she always did, then let him uncover her ears. Her gaze immediately fell down, overwhelmed by shame. Showing her ears felt like stripping herself of everything.

The elf slowly lifted her face, searching for her gaze.

"I ask your forgiveness for what has happened. I don't know how I could have been so blind, and it pains me to know that elves have died because of my ignorance." At least it was that: ignorance. Not indifference.

This thought reassured her. He seemed sincere as he looked her in the eyes, or at least he appeared to be. For the first time in a long while, Yesenia decided to choose trust. What else did she have to lose? She had nothing.

"I will form a company tasked with scouring Lindon from top to bottom, and beyond the borders if necessary, to hunt down these bands and give them their rightful fate. In the meantime, although nothing can ever repay your loss, I offer you a place here to live" Elrond smiled. He had expected this; his cousin rarely disappointed him. Helping her rebuild her life was the least he could do.

"Furthermore, if it troubles you so much..." he said, running his hand over one of her ears, then the other.

"You can hide what is not there. But in any case, you were born an elf, and you should never feel inferior to your kin. Never."

Yesenia touched her ears. They were no longer severed, but just by touching them, they felt naturally pointed like any other elf's. The redhead smiled, a smile filled with countless mixed emotions.

"Thank you" she said, looking at him smiling, as if she had finally brushed against peace, and the King smiled warmly at her.