Somewhere up North, Legolas looked up at the stars, having each one to remind him of the princess, in so many ways than one: Her beauty, her innocence, her light. They were just...her. The way she gave off her innocence in how she smiled, the way she gave off her beauty with her glow. The Elf Prince barely rested, and he wondered whether if the girl was to be missed. Mahal, she [i]was,[/i] to him. And the farther he was, the more he had missed her glowing green eyes, her raven-black hair, and her fair, creamy skin. Everything became a reminder to him of her; sometimes, when he was in the presence of the Rangers, he would remember Yavanna sharing her conscience words and reason with all races, evident with how she presented herself before the Elves, Dwarves, and the Humans. Here he was, sitting in the camp of the Dunedain, feeding his horse while looking up at the stars, as well as fiddling with the necklace around his neck, letting the memories shroud him in remembrance of the princess. 

Saeril held onto Kili's hand as soon as he gripped her own. Having to hold made her feel complete, determined in keeping him alive for his and her sake. If she loses him, she will never forgive herself and there would be no reason for her to continue living; this was her purpose. Now with Yavanna in her life, it was like she had the daughter she could never have; another child; a possible student. Apart from her parents, in truth, the elder never felt or experienced true love in her life; never in its truest state. Since the moment they met, there was a bond forming between the winged she-elf and the young Elven girl, like a mother-child connection; the same bond she had with her two godsons. Glancing over at the said-girl, she gave that same motherly smile that she has always given. Maybe another reason to live?