Sitting in a chair by Roswehn's bed, Haldir was reflecting.

His mother had gone to bed immediately after her arrival. She hadn't even wanted to eat a meal. A whole night on horseback had exhausted her.

The prince wondered if his father's decision to take her back to Eryn Galen had been right.

Thranduil had done it for him, he was aware of it. The King had seen the pain on his son's face at the idea of ​​not seeing his human mother again, and his paternal heart had broken. He had taken Roswehn away from that house on the hill, in Dale.

Thranduil knew that Roswehn's life was ending. Haldir had heard that humans generally died before turning ninety, in some very rare cases they reached the century of life.

His mother was already eighty-six, and every awakening could have been the last, every day was precious. For that reason the King had decided to have her back with him, again in his Kingdom. Together, until the end.

Haldir was watching his mother's chest moving during sleep. The sun did not enter that underground bedroom. Roswehn, however, was used to the brightness of her garden, in which she loved to sit in the spring. She would have to adapt again, as she had done sixty years before, to darkness, to dampness, to silence.

Of course, the prince was happy to have her there. But he wondered if it was right to oblige the woman to spend the last few years, or months, or days of life, in such an environment. She had already been there, but when she was young and full of curiosity and enthusiasm. Now, there was nothing new to discover, and things with Thranduil had changed. They could no longer be lovers. They were only two parents, united for the sake of their son.

"What will you do now, Mom?" he said, breaking the silence. Roswehn could no longer even go for a walk in the woods, the King would not have allowed it with all the dangers out there.

"And I, what will I do?" He wondered.
There was a terrible attack going on in the south. He had heard Feren and Varian discuss it. The Orcs were setting fire to dozens and dozens of trees and bushes. They wanted to wipe out his father's entire forest, and force him to surrender. Or perhaps, their plan was simply to eliminate the Woodland Elves from Earth, starting with the inhabitants of Greenwood.

Lothlórien had also been attacked, but the immense power of Lady Galadriel had defeated the enemies.

Thranduil didn't have that magic. He could do nothing but resist with his army. Legolas was away, engaged in another battle.

It would be up to me to defend the realm ... the prince thought. He was the second son, it was his very specific responsibility. Except for the small detail ... that his father didn't want. He had categorically forbidden him from approaching the armory, and had threatened to punish those who dared give his son a sword or a bow.

But Legolas has gone to war, he reflected. He is risking his life. I should do it too, if there was any honor in me.

He started pacing back and forth in the cave, caught by an attack of anxiety and frustration. He knew how to fight, he had been well trained by Feren.

Once, during a duel, he had even disarmed his father. Thranduil had remained motionless, looking incredulously at the sword his son had torn from his hand with a precise movement of his arm.

"You have lost, Father." he had said with a smile.

"Go to your rooms." the King had replied, irritated by the defeat.

But then, that same evening at dinner, he had complimented him. "Your grandfather Oropher fought like you. If you inherited his ability, nothing and no one will ever stop you." he had told him.

"... then I shouldn't be hiding here. Like I said to that Goneril, who can fight, should do it!" he said to himself again, his fists clenched in a gesture of anger.

Goneril had reached his mother in Dale, she had found her, but she had not killed her. His father had not given explanations, he had only told him that Roswehn was protected by a kind of magic, a gift from Lord Elrond, and that the female soldier couldn't do anything against it.

Haldir had suspected that Goneril would not have taken his mother's life, anyway.

The Elf had exchanged a few words with that woman, but it had been enough to make him understand that a part of her was still good. Goneril in her heart believed she was evil, and probably those who had met her shared that opinion, including Legolas.

But Haldir's great sensitivity suggested something else. The woman was not born perfidious. She had become so after years of systematic violence. He could not yet read in the minds of others like Thranduil, but looking at her briefly in the eyes, he had seen something: a cold farm, an adoptive family in which ignorance and abuse reigned, loneliness, despair, anger.

Goneril looked like one of those stray cats that, wounded by the brutality of men, became aggressive, angry, shy.

Yet, she had helped Théoden and the people of Rohan ... even though she suspected she was a repudiated and abandoned daughter. Yet she had made a connection with the King's niece, her alleged cousin.
Yet she had said encouraging words to him, before disappearing along the hidden path of the forest. And yet...

"Here it is, my beautiful son ..." Roswehn said, awakened by the trampling of footsteps on the floor.

"Sorry, I disturbed you." said Haldir. "Forgive me, I didn't want to interrupt your rest."

"Don't worry. I feel better already. And I also feel a bit hungry now ." answered Roswehn.

"I'll get you something now." Haldir put two pillows behind her back, then called "... Nim!"

"... what were you thinking about, Haldir? I see you are nervous." asked Roswehn.

"Not at all. Don't worry." answered Haldir.

"I know. It's war time. I've already lived war. I saw Trolls and Orcs attacking Dale. And I fought, too, you know?" Roswehn answered.

"Yes. You told me many times, mother." the prince smiled. "You decided to use fire to defend Dale from Orcs..."

"... and they burned alive. All the Orcs who dared to approach died in the flames. I find sadly ironic that they use fire to attack us now." Roswehn reasoned. "So much death. So many battles."

"I've never seen a battle." retorted Haldir.

Roswehn looked at him. "Your father has always protected you, and he has done well. In time you will understand. Do not be angry at him." She told him. "He loves you more than you think."

"He doesn't let me fight ..." the prince replied, looking away.

"He doesn't let you run into dangers. It's different." Roswehn told him.

"But this way I'll never find out who I am, naneth! I'll never know if I'm brave ... or a coward." retorted Haldir.

"Of course you are brave. Like your father and like me. You are our son, and grandson of the great Oropher. There is so much strength in you, that it would frighten you." Said Roswehn. "But your existence is precious. Believe me. You must be protected."

Haldir watched her again, in silence. "Nim!" He called again. The Elf girl arrived, breathless.

"Forgive me, your highness. I was busy preparing Roswehn's new wardrobe." she justified herself.

"My mother wants some food. Take care of it, please. And stay with her now." Haldir ordered, and then he left the room.

Nim bowed her head: "It will be done, your highness." she answered.

Then she approached the bed, fluffing the pillows behind the human's back. "Haldir is beautiful, Roswehn. I've never seen a similar elegance in a male Elf. He even overshadows the King."

"Uh! Don't tell Thranduil!" the woman said. "... perhaps, after falling in love with Legolas, you have now a weak spot for my son too?" She joked.

Nim laughed.

"No. In fact, there's something I haven't told you yet ..." said the Elf girl, sitting down next to her old friend. "Now I'm married."

Roswehn didn't even have to ask: to whom? It was obvious.

"Hazel. Excellent choice. He is strong, honest and valiant." the mortal said. "My congratulations, Nim. I am happy for you."

Nim looked down, embarrassed and happy. "Yes. Thanks. And do you know another thing?" She added. "I am waiting for a baby."

"What ?! Oh! it's wonderful!" exclaimed Roswehn, incredulous.

"Yes. But ... my mother doesn't know. I want it to be a secret, that is ... only Hazel and I know. And you too, now. I trust in your discretion, my friend." revealed the girl. "I discovered it recently."

"Why do you keep this secret?" asked the old woman.

"I want to enjoy this moment in peace. If my mother knew, she would suffocate me with care and attention. You know her." said the Elf.

Roswehn leaned her back against the pillows. "You will be a mother. We are two mothers, Nim. Our gods have blessed us."

The Elf suddenly became sad. "... but in what kind of world will my son grow up? There is a war out there. And if Sauron should win?" she said.

Roswehn took her hand. "Do not let yourself go to pessimism. There are those who are defending these borders. I trust in Thranduil and in his Elves. I know the strength of your people."

"It's not just Greenwood to be on the verge of destruction. Gondor, Rohan ... how can men ..." Nim reflected.

"If there's one thing I've learned over the years, it's that an unexpected help can come when we need it. Sometimes we suddenly discover we have friends." concluded Roswehn.

⚜️⚜️⚜️

"Do you expect me to sit on your back?" Goneril asked the ice Dragon.

Oropher opened his wings in all their breadth, as if he wanted to stretch them. Deaf rattles could be heard coming from the gray membranes.

"Yes, madam. And it is better that you hurry up, 'cause at every minute lost here, another tree is reduced to ashes." answered the white creature. "Listen to my advice: I wouldn't be too proud if I was you."

"And what is your plan? Explain, come on." growled Goneril, exasperated at having no choice.

"I will take you to the heart of Thranduil's kingdom. I will leave you with his Elves. Then I will use my icy water against the fire. Once the fire has been extinguished, you and his captains will lead the army to final victory. What do you say about that, warrior?" explained the Dragon. "After that, I will bring you to Elrond. All you mortal girls want to go to Rivendell ... what do you ever find in that guy ..."

"And why are doing this? What do you gain in this business?" asked Goneril, skeptical. "Do you really want to sell me that it's all about friendship?"

"Because my time has come. Dragons are disappearing . But ... I will remain in everyone's memories as the great savior of Greenwood. And when Eru closes my eyes forever, they will write songs and legends about me." told the Dragon. "I will become even more famous than Smaug."

Goneril shook her head. "They will always see you as a monster. Do not believe that such an action can turn you into a hero. You are a Dragon, despite bearing the name of a King. And Thranduil's archers will hit you as soon as they see you."

"... consequently, killing you too. Well, peace, it means that we will both die. Come on, climb on my back. I am going to tell you only once." replied Oropher. "That sword ... be careful, it could cut my skin."

"Forget it." answered Goneril. "I despise your race, you monster."

She saw the Beast inflate his neck and open his nostrils, to breathe in air that would have turned into frost.

"All right ... all right. Calm down." she said immediately, raising her hands in surrender. There was little to do, either surrender or become an ice statue.

Slowly, Goneril seated on the back of that huge winged serpent. She fastened her sword to her side, careful that the blade did not cut the scales of the Dragon.

After spreding his wings, the Beast took off.

The warrior felt a strange sensation while the Beast flew to the point of reaching and leaving the tops of the trees beneath them.

The woman saw smoke in the distance. A dense and black column of smoke.

"They are already so close ..." she said.

"We will go in the opposite direction. The King's palace is up North. If the Elves try to hit us with their arrows, I will have to increase my speed. If you fall, worse for you." the Dragon told her.

"Careful. I still have time to cut your neck with my sword." Goneril threatened him. "I believe you do not fully understand who's on your back."

"A King's daughter who prefers to drag herself into misery, that's who you are." the Dragon said. "But these are choices. Like the one Haldir is making right now."

"And how do you know what he's doing?" asked Goneril.

"I feel the thoughts of the Elf, the friendship that unites me to his mother allows me to sense his intentions." revealed the Dragon. "... he has escaped. He has escaped from the Palace. Right now."