#merilindis

[pinakaitala]

“Your fathers trip to Imladris is going well henig, he states here that you and I are almost ready to travel to see him, Estelion will take us in a fortnight so start thinking about what you want to bring with you” 

“I will get to take Braig and Lhoss with us right?”

Mirilendis smiled and glanced over at the fox cubs nestled next to Legolas “I would hope so, we can’t very well leave such trusted beasts to do nothing here in Eryn Lasgalen…what if we need protection?” 

Legolas giggles “they’re still just babies! Besides, I thought Estelion was supposed to protect us?” 

“Estelion will always protect us, nothing ill will befall us while he’s near” 

“Merilindis? Do you think there are elflings in Imladris?...Will I have anyone to play with?” 

Merilindis looked at the little prince and smiled gently “I’m afraid that…you might be the youngest of our kind henig, at least…that I’ve heard of, but lady Arwen and her brothers are very kind and very nurturing, I’ve heard the brothers are very energetic and I’m sure they’ll get you into all kinds of trouble even though they’re no elflings anymore” 

—-

In my mind, Legolas is one of the youngest elves in middle earth

[pinakaitala]

“Get back, you foul beasts of Mordor! Back to Dol Guldur!” Merilindis hissed, voice raw. Her breath came out in frosty bursts, fogging the cold night air as she swung her blade in a wide arc. The spiders hissed and scurried back. 

“You are not getting him!” she spat again, drawing the child closer. Legolas whimpered against her shoulder, his small hands gripping her torn sleeve. His sobs were muffled against her neck, but his trembling told her enough.

Her limbs ached. Her vision blurred. The venom that grazed her skin burned like liquid ice. Still, she would not yield. She planted her boots into the soil, blood and mud mixing beneath her, and raised her sword again, steady though her arm shook.

The spiders encircled them tighter, their eyes gleaming like shards of obsidian, their mandibles clicking with hunger. One lunged—she pivoted, blade flashing, severing a leg with a wet snap. Black ichor splattered across her cheek.

“Come then!” she shouted into the chaos, voice breaking but fierce. “If you crave death! Come and claim it!”

Her heart pounded, the sound loud as a war drum in her ears. The weight of exhaustion pulled at her like lead, but she forced herself to move, to breathe, to fight. Somewhere in the distance, the faint sound of horns echoed—Thranduil’s guard, perhaps. She prayed they were close.

“Hold on, my little prince,” she whispered, her voice breaking as her sword arm drooped. “Your father will find us soon… I promise.”

[pinakaitala]

“I don’t want to see Ada, he will be mad”

“Oh Henig… I’m sure he’ll just be glad you’re alright”

“No! He will be furious! I broke my bow and lost my diadem, he will punish me”

“Legolas, fear not, he will just be glad that you didn’t hurt yourself falling down that tree…tell you what, how about you take a bath and let me bandage you up then tomorrow we will go together and find your diadem?”

“Alright… but don’t tell ada yet!”

“Vandanyë”

…

More young Legolas and his governess Merilindis, she is so close to my heart and I love creating art with those two. Also young Legolas is just so precious