LOTR || ⤜𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙩 → [Legolas x OC]

⤜ 20 → inkling of hope

"We fell through the portal and landed in a realm not too far from our own," Rosa recounted. All eyes at the table were upon her as she recalled the events that had turned her life into a compelling, almost comical, chaos.

But had it not been for the bean, she was certain she would've never had the experience of such wild and unrestrained adventure. Those were the moments she reminisced and cherished. They made up the very core of her childhood.

Remembering her trail of thought, Rosa pulled back from her memories and quickly continued. "That was the first of many adventures to follow," she said. "We saw realms of magic and mystic arts, travelled through celestial bodies holding otherworldly creatures, and worlds of strange mechanical creations. But every time the bean would somehow find its way back into the grips of my palm."

An unspoken question lingered in the air, she could feel it. So she quickly clarified. "I expected to see it in my hand again as I portalled into this realm, but it was not there."

Celeborn stroked the curve of his chin, then hummed deep in thought. "That is indeed unusual. It sounds as though something is wanting to keep you here..."

Rosa opened her mouth to say something. But she closed it after finding nothing to say. No words to prove nor deny what Celeborn had suggested. Her face scrunched in confusion.

"How did you portal yourself here?" he questioned after a moment's hesitation. "I assume it was not your intention."

Rosa finally seemed to have found her voice. "No, it was not," she said dryly. "I had no intention of opening the portal realm. It was merely an accident."

When Celeborn's eyebrows raised slightly in question, she reluctantly explained what had happened that day.

Down in the Captain's Quarters below the ships deck, Rosa was hunched over her father's writing desk, fiddling with a rusty old compass and a large map that was roughly scribbled on a sheet of parchment stained with brown circles of tea. This was their forty-sixth day at sea – if her estimate was correct – and their supply of food and artillery were dwindling at an alarming rate.

But she may have been the one to blame for that – after planting fake cockroaches in the hammocks of several crew members. Yet how could she have known these grown men would screech like little girls and bolt in the direction of the storage barrels? Her father had burst through the doors shortly after hearing the ruckus, only to stop dead at the sight of several broken barrels and a flood of rum. Bits of broken wood and floating food occasionally bobbing up to the surface, floating past their ankles.

In other circumstances Rosa would have laughed at the sight had she not caught the glare her father shot her way. Now she sat before an array of maps and measuring instruments scattered over her father's desk, attempting to calculate the distance between their current location at sea and the nearest place of civilisation – an island called Tortuga. The crew began to grow restless and needed to make port on Tortuga soon to replenish their stock. She thought it was a peculiar name, but after tracing the perimeter of the island on the maps, a grin split across her face in realisation. The length of the island curved and twisted in some places, resembling a sea turtle.

Despite the pointlessness of the discovery, Rosa found it to be rather amusing. It had kept her entertained for a few days while she was grounded in the small room as per her father's request. But it was a poor attempt to keep her out of trouble.

When the unmistakable rumble of a storm sounded somewhere in the distance, Rosa had snuck out onto the decks and hid behind one of the ship's lowered masts.

She was content with watching the thunder boom and the clouds roll from a distance. But the storm had grown so suddenly and spread overhead the ship, that she was completely unprepared for the large tide that had crashed into the sides of the ship. It had so suddenly knocked over a loose barrel, which ploughed into her unsuspecting form and flung her mercilessly against the ship's edge. The bean – previously tucked away in her pockets – slipped free and plunged overboard into the roaring ocean.