Thread; the Princess and the Wargslayer
"I am half-elven, yes. My mother was descended from the daughter of the great Tar-Anárion, and I am of the blood of the first ruling queen of Númenór. But, now that I do have the freedom to go wherever, I do not know what I shall do. Perhaps, I shall remain around this area, at least for the time being."
She looked at Olorin nevertheless, and smiled. "I appreciate the fact that I have such a trusting person along with me tonight. I am more than grateful for your words and company, if that's not that all strange for me to say."
There were times when Olorin was painfully aware of how little he had been taught of the history of Middle Earth. The name Tar-Anárion meant nothing to him, although he suspected that if he said the name to Gwindor, he would know about them. He was also sure Lord Elrond would let her stay for as long as she needed, provided her story could be verified. He glanced at his companion, shrugging his shoulders.
"It is slightly strange to say. But it is not so much trusting, it is more instinct. You have yet to draw a blade on me, and usually that is a good sign. Besides, when you grow up close to Mordor... you tend to know the feeling of darkness," he explained. As they passed by another guard, he held up his hand in greeting, gesturing that the guard should find Lord Elrond. Olorin returned his attention to his companion.
"Besides, my own mother was a distant cousin of his majesty, I suspect it is required," he joked.
