Evienne searches for sunshine amidst the gloom

Evienne DuLac stretches lazily and flutters her radiant wings, a loud yawn escaping her voluptuous lips as she gazes lethargically around her Otherworld sanctuary. She waves her hand impassively at her Fae handmaids who rush to her side, awaiting her wishes...
Evienne DuLac shares a faint smile, her lyrical voice filling the cavern, "Away with you, my dears... I want for nothing at present...," she shakes her blonde locks and lets out a weary sigh, murmuring under her breath, "...except for a little amusement perhaps!"

Evienne DuLac suddenly takes flight, her desire for diversion of any nature sparking her interest once again in the citizens of these Lands after a long pause.

Evienne DuLac muses as she floats through the water before bursting with a graceful pirouette through the surface and skimming along the shallow edge, her dainty toes slipping into the cool liquid now and again.
"I wonder what the Elven King is up to these days?"
Evienne DuLac takes a higher path and flies among the trees and towards the mountains surrounding Calenhad, the sanctum of the Elves of the River Lands. She skirts the cottage where the Druid lives with his gentle human companion, her nose wrinkling as she considers the young woman who she has often witnessed bring the snooty Elf to laughter. She seemed to have the rare gift of scratching the aloof exterior and exposing a more playful and carefree Elven King.
Evienne DuLac changes course as she sees no sign of movement at the cottage, aside from the various canines and sleepy feline that share the home of the pair.
"Well, I doubt the girl would provide me with much entertainment anyway, but the Elf has a certain awkward charm...", she grins in a self-satisfied manner, "...at least where I am concerned!"

Evienne DuLac reaches the plateau on which Calenhad thrones, admiring the grand refinement of it's buildings and immediately seeking out the tumbling waterfall, the spray of the falling shower energising her and making her giggle as it tickles her neck and shoulders.
She twists lithely as she hears the elven tongue and watches from afar as the Druid formally takes his leave from his kinspeople.
Evienne DuLac narrows her eyes as she watches the Elf cross the open area and head towards the steep stairs leading to the forest and his home. His gait is spiritless and his shoulders slumped and she has to restrain herself from moving nearer to observe his countenance at close range. She arches her eyebrows, her voice unconcerned, yet clearly impatient, "hmmpf, could the surge of Darkness exuding those Shadow Lands be the cause of his chagrin," she wonders aloud as she floats behind him noiselessly, "...I doubt a tiff with his mate would call for a full Elven Council meeting!". The dazzling Fae laughs gaily at the thought, but boring quickly decides to leave the Druid to his cares and continue her search for more promising sport elsewhere. 

Soaring above the Lands she notices numerous Rangers patrolling and what seems to be all of the Hobbits of the Shire busily bringing in crops, their excited chatter confirming her deduction about the Shadow Lands and the nervousness the unknown activity from there causes the folks who call these parts their home.

Evienne DuLac exhales irritably, her thoughts icy, "Soon I will have no recourse but to seek out those pesky Naiads and participate in their dancing for my pleasure!"

As she makes the decision to return to her refuge and take a nap, weary of the gloomy atmosphere dampening the Lands, she rounds a corner and suddenly comes across the creature called Smeagol crossing the rocks with extreme caution between his ruined sanctuary and the shadowed entrance to the doomed Land. 
The Fish she once "repaired" for him held tightly in his fist.
Evienne DuLac pauses in mid-flight, hovering behind the slowly ambling creature, an uncomfortable feeling of pity overcoming her and completely against her nature, she uses her magic to whisper a message of warning, sending it on the breeze towards the crouched figure.
"Beware, wee being, turn back and avoid this place in future for your safety."

Evienne DuLac shifts uneasily, deliberates and mutters in a sulky voice, "Fae, you get yourself home now... your thirst for merriment has bought you no joy today and you deteriorate into mimicking a sentimental mortal", she sighs extravagantly, "may the Deities help us!"