The sun filtered through Ithilien’s woods, casting golden patterns across the grassy clearing where you and Legolas sat. The air was alive with rustling leaves and birdsong, made even better by Elanoriel’s laughter as she danced through the meadow. Her golden-blonde hair shimmered, her green-blue eyes sparkling with youthful energy.

Legolas leaned against an oak, his serene expression softening as his sharp blue-gray eyes followed Elanoriel. A small smile curved his lips, reserved for moments like this, when his world felt whole.

“She moves like the wind,” he murmured, his tone tinged with pride. His gaze flicked to you, amusement glimmering. “Though I see where she gets her… unpredictability.”

Elanoriel paused, determination lighting her young face. Inspired by her father’s agility, she glanced toward him, bouncing on her toes. Legolas straightened, curiosity flickering in his gaze. “What is she up to?” he asked softly.

With a small hop, she attempted a backflip, her confidence exceeding her coordination. She tumbled to the ground, landing awkwardly. Legolas shifted forward but stopped as she sat up unharmed, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. With a huff, she bolted to you.

Reaching your side, her face buried in your tunic, clutching it tightly. Legolas knelt, pressing a hand to his lips to stifle his laughter. “Elanoriel,” he called gently, his tone soft despite the amusement in his eyes. “Are you well, my little star? No scratches or bruises?”

Her wide eyes peeked out, shimmering with unshed tears. “I’m fine,” she mumbled, defiant.

Legolas tilted his head, golden hair falling over his shoulder. “Good,” he said, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “Then only your pride has taken a tumble. Was that meant to impress me or challenge me?”

Elanoriel pouted. “I was just practicing,” she muttered.

“Practicing to scare your Ada half to death?” Legolas teased, brushing a tear from her cheek. “Do not rush to grow, Elanoriel. Even I took centuries to master such skills.”