Chapter 13: Chapter 13

For the first weeks, Mistril did nothing but draw. It was calming and people seemed to like her works. Most of them were about Imladris, Gondolin, her family, and Glorfindel. She didn't draw anything dark because it wasn't something she wanted to remember vividly. Instead, she continued to draw Greenwood, Legolas with a sword or a bow, wood elves as she saw them, and even a faraway view of Dol Guldur.

If anyone wanted to find her, she was either on the balcony or in the Hall of Fire, where she also liked to spend time brooding. Nobody knew what she was thinking and nobody asked.

"You're growing incredibly good at it," Glorfindel said as he came and sat beside her. "What else are you working on right now?"

"Nothing." She said quickly but Glorfindel wasn't convinced so he pulled it out of her grasp. "Don't look!"

"Is it me again?" He asked jokingly and turned around so she wouldn't reach it.

One glance and Glorfindel knew who that was even if it didn't have a face yet. He sighed and let her have it back. She seemed embarrassed but didn't put it in the file with the others.

"Don't say a word." She mumbled grumpily.

"Even without a face, it's quite obvious who that is."

"Maybe or maybe not," She added, "As long as he doesn't see it, it's fine."

Glorfindel watched Mistril carefully. She was fond of a person that she couldn't see but one she could only create an image of by herself. That tall form dressed in golden robes, with white hair falling on his back, standing straight and highly could have been anyone. But the crown gave identity to him.

"How did Thranduil really act around you? He is extremely suspicious of what is found in his forest." Glorfindel opened the subject, knowing time and distance have a funny way of bringing certain people together. 

"He was doubtful. I think he still believes I came from the Enemy." She said, annoyance sipping through the words. "Which might as well be correct,"

"But it wasn't so bad, was it? Because I see the longing in your eyes. You miss them."

"I do. But it's still too early to say if it's because I got used to their presence or I genuinely miss them because I care."

"You miss him," Glorfindel said watching her reactions carefully.

"I miss Legolas, yes. He used to brighten my view over the world." She mumbled grumpily.

"Of course. Legolas." Glorfindel muttered as he watched her grab her file and walk towards her room.

---

One hundred years in Imladris passed differently and with fewer reasons to get angry. Nothing dark reached it and Glorfindel assured her that it will never do so. And then a guest arrived, one that looked like a merchant but was a lot more than that.

"Mithrandir! Such a pleasure to see you but I remember whenever you do visit, it's not always good news that you bring." Glorfindel welcomed him.

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But Mithrandir didn't seem bothered. He looked up from under his big hat with playfulness. His eyes were sparkling with something Mistril never figured out.

"I'm afraid this is not an exception, old friend," Mithrandir answered. "I heard you have found another to guard and protect while I was away." He added growing a bit dark in looks. "One who returned from the dead."

"Who told you that? Was it a bird or was it a guard?" Glorfindel asked with suspicion.  

"Not important now. I will talk about it later. Now, let's drink and eat because I am famished."

---

It was late in the evening when Mistril wandered down the halls. She had seen it before, the murals about different important events that have ended with either glory or, more often, with a lot of victims. She stopped in front of each of them and fell in deep melancholy as she understood what each meant, but the most impressive mural was the one of the legendary down bringing of the Enemy. Isildur brings about the downfall of Sauron on the slopes of Orodruin, it said. Behind, on a stone platter held by a statue was a sword, or what was left of it. It was shattered in pieces but still sharp, still glowing with time and strength. She reached out to it but her eyes widened as she retracted her hand slowly, her head aching.

Elrond found her standing in the Hall of Fire, watching the yellowish flames dance together. She was thinking of something that he could only guess. Just like Glorfindel, he noticed how guarded her mind was and how often her elvish light flickered. It wasn’t worrisome yet but it gave him reasons to wonder if maybe it was better to have her go meet Lady Galadriel.

“I made a friend in Greenwood, an archer called Tudor. He told me there was a monster amongst the orcs, one that could rival the Black Knights. He said you saw it.”

“I did. It slew men with only one sway of its sword and it decapitated some of my most prized warriors. I could only catch glimpse of its far away form, but I know its eyes were bloodthirsty.” Elrond remembered those eyes, glinting from afar, inducing fear in everyone.

“Did it die?”

“I don’t know. It was only seen in Dagorlad and nowhere else.” Elrond answered her sincerely before he asked in return, “Is it troubling you, that creature?”

“Did it have a name?”

“As far as I know, it was a diligent commander whose name was rarely spoken. But men named it the Shadow of Angmar because it was faithful to the Witch-king.”

Mistril sighed and hid her head in between her hands, remembering the flash of memories she had when she reached for the sword.

It was her, dressed in armor with a heavy helmet on her head, hiding everything but her eyes. She was standing behind the Witch-king, calm as if nothing meaningful was about to begin. He made her a sign and she was supposed to go after the heads of each army, but something happened.

Now, thinking about everything she remembered in the last years, she could understand why Thranduil was so doubtful.

“These marks on my wrists, they were done by Sauron.” She muttered, raising her head enough to catch glimpse of the fire. “I should be rotting somewhere, shouldn’t I? Because after all, I cannot die.”

Elrond could neither deny nor agree. It was clear to him from the beginning that something happened to her and darkness grasped her soul but he didn’t know how much and how deep Sauron’s manipulation reached inside her. He could see her light flicker once more and it needed a few minutes for it to regain its normal glow. Elrond stood there and watched, making sure her eyes won’t darken again.

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