So I'm writing and posting again at last, I don't normally write for LOTR but had this idea in my head for a while. Not your average Legolas fic, I'm hoping to defer from the amount of cliches, sues and plotless fluff. Constructive and sensible criticism is of course welcome.
1.
"Legolas!"
No mistaking that voice, soft and almost chiming like the bells worn around her ankle. He turned his head and there she was, seemingly floating towards him like she always managed to, brown hair streaming behind her as she ran across the hall.
"Taurmîr!" Legolas greeted her as she flung her arms about his neck, "It does me good to see you again."
"And I you," the maiden said stepping back and studying his face "I am glad you return to us in one piece." He had not realised how he had missed the smile that followed.
"Allow me to introduce you to one of my dearest friends," Legolas said, turning to Gimli, his voice bright and excited with being at home and seeing old faces, "This is Taurmîr. Taurmîr this is Gimli son of Gloin who's only fault is found in the cloud of smoke that he will insist on creating with his pipe." Laughing again as she curtsied to the scowling Gimli, Legolas was happy that she did not show any hostility.
"The trinket you wear is well crafted," Gimli said gesturing to the fine chain around her ankle after having politely inclined his head.
"Thank you Master Dwarf, my brother crafted it for me," Taurmîr replied, twisting her foot and demonstratively letting the bells ring with a wistful expression on her face.
"Where is your brother?" Legolas asked, concern immediately rising as it seemed a cloud had passed over his friends face. There was a slight pause and a deep intake of breath.
"Since you left there have been dark and hard times for all. My brother fell in the first defence of our land. It was an honourable death I am told," her words were slow and measured, mastering her grief as she spoke, though she could not look him in the eye.
"Oh Taurmîr," he sighed, reaching out to touch her shoulder "I am truly sorry."
Her smile was stretched as she shook her head slightly, "There is nothing to be sorry for."
Only then did Legolas realise the meaning to her words could run deeper than he thought.
They walked together as they had done many years before, under the natural arches and gently falling leaves, two slender figures at one with nature and the elements, time passing them by, lost in their talk and thoughts. He thought of the last time they had done this, it was the same, but then it was so different. It was not just the war that had changed them, there was something else but Legolas just could not place his finger upon it – at least not at that time.
White blossom fell about them, caught in eddies in the breeze it appeared almost like snow. Legolas knew where they were. She led him before one specific tree and where the ground began to rise slightly in front of them they stood silent before it. Gentle was his tone, barely audible as he spoke words of memory and remembrance. Taking her hand in his he held it tightly for a moment, offering support and comfort.
"These are more scarred than they used to be," said Taurmîr lightly, turning his hands over in her own, examining the traces of battle that ran along them. He met her eyes for but an instant and then their eyes darted away, finding something else to look at as if their meeting had been forbidden.
No one was unscarred after the power of Sauron had reached out and Legolas wondered where her own scars were - and not just the marks of grief from her brother's death. He sighed slightly and tried to shift from the melancholy mood that had somehow settled upon him.
"Come, we shall be late and unprepared for the festivities," said Taurmîr with a warm smile, leading the way from the clearing, sensing the unease of her friend, "There will be much merriment tonight I feel, your long awaited return has brought much joy." She was strong indeed to continue how she did.
Feeling more at ease as they talked of the events that would go on that night as well as bygone nights of merrymaking and dancing Legolas remembered the night he had become firm friends with Taurmîr.
"Do you remember that Autumn Dance?" he asked with a laugh
"How could I not? If I remember correctly I was the one who was muttering the dance steps to you under my breath so you would not make a fool of yourself!"
At the time, Legolas had asked Taurmîr, in an over confident way attempting to dance with all available that night and then had been taken aback when the song was one he did not know a dance to.
"I can never thank you enough," Legolas muttered knowing the smug look on Taurmîr's face without having to look.
"Though you never did listen to me much after that," Taurmîr's voice was low and he wondered if she had even meant to speak the words aloud.
Unbidden an image of the past came to his mind of looking down at Taurmîr from his horse and her words
"Must you go? Please stay."