Recap: The company have just set out for Minas Tirith. Annabelle is trying to keep up with the pace, aware that she is headed into the unknown, and that an unknown enemy lurks behind somewhere.
They went on like this for several days until they had at last reached South Ithilien, a partly wooded land, one that Legolas was rather fond of. They were only a few days ride now from Minas Tirith, where they were planning to stop for one or two days, of necessity. Minas Tirith was the seat of power in Gondor, the White City from which Aragorn ruled his land.
With the river always in sight to their left, they headed ever north, enjoying the fair weather and the vigorous ride. Whilst the days went by energetically with no time to breathe, Aniel looked forward to the evenings where she could lay on the cool grass and watch the dark boughs sway in the breeze. And she had taken to an interesting habit. It concerned Legolas.
She often found her eyes drawn to the tall, slight elf in a way she did not understand at first. It was easy to watch him in camp, for he was much more active than she, wandering around busying himself whilst she had less to do and much more time to sit.
At first, he merely caught her eye whenever he happened to wander past. He would often look at her and grin, smile or at the very least nod, wink or even sometimes just pull a face. But even when he was walking around and it was not near her, her eyes began to follow him anyway.
She noticed the way he interacted with the others. Mostly he seemed to keep himself separate from the men, that is except Aragorn, with whom he would speak often, sometimes jesting and other times serious. She admitted she liked to watch how animated his face would become when with him, and when alone, his quietness equally fascinated her, the way he would focus on every task with equal dedication, putting himself equally into everything he did. Was that simply a trait of elves, she wondered, or was it just he? She endeavoured to somehow find out.
One evening she was idly watching the fire, her eyes every now and then moving to where Legolas sat in the dimness on the other side. Every so often their eyes would meet. It seemed to be happening more as each evening went by. She happened to glance over now and, almost as though drawn, his eyes moved to connect with her. Her breath caught slightly in her throat and she glanced nervously away again. When she looked back he was speaking to Aragorn. She took the opportunity to study his face, the planes and angles, the high cheekbones, the strong forehead, the ever so slightly crooked nose, his only one imperfection. Then she looked at his lips as she sometimes did, but quickly away again, for she felt it was wrong to be so bold, considering he was a friend.
She also realised she didn't know that much about him, his family or any part of his life for that matter. Nor was it her place to ask. She badly wanted to know if all elves would have this nervous kind of fluttery affect on her, or just this one elf. How could she know? She would have to wait until Rivendell to find out. Did elven males have this kind of affect on all human girls – she supposed it was possible.
Whilst she enjoyed her surreptitious glances his way, at the end of the day she felt foolish for feeling the way she did. It was probably a passing interspecies 'glamour' of some kind, something only a naive youngster would fall into. Weren't elves known for being a magical race? That was probably all it was.
She stood up and moved away from the fire, deciding to go for a walk around the camp. Keeping out of the firelight, she walked through the trees near by, but not so far to be lost. It was cool and quiet and she was alone with her thoughts. The noises of night insects filled her ears. She walked slowly, completely relaxed and sure that she was alone, pausing every now and then to look up at the sky, seeing the stars painted upon the velvet of night.
She was picking her way through the dark foliage around her when a shadow moved out from behind it all of a sudden. It was too dark to see anything of detail, only shapes. Immediately her heart caught in her throat. Though she wanted to move, she instantly froze. Quickly the shape came closer, tall it was, and she caught sight of the telltale ears.
Her heart sped up crazily and she was about to get her legs to move or her lungs to work, whichever came first, when Legolas quickly said, "No Aniel, it is only I. Don't be afraid." She almost collasped into his arms.
"Legolas," she breathed. "Please don't do that to me. You scared me half to death."
He came right up to her and caught her hands in his. "Who did you think I was?" he asked.
Annabelle knew that his eyesight was near perfect even in shadows, but she didn't have that advantage. "I thought you were….never mind." She tried to get her heart rate to slow to something near normal, but with the elf this close to her she seemed unable to accomplish it.
"I must remember not to sneak up on you in the dur." (dark) His language skills had been improving over the week, but occasionally elvish snuck into his sentences. This was okay because it taught Annabelle Sindarin.
"I'm sorry I made you jump. Did you think I was the Dolve…the dur elven that hurt you?" He was very close to her now, and he ran one hand over her arm, testing the bruise there. "Is this nesta….er," he searched for the right word, "healed?"
"Look," she said, rolling up her sleeve and hoping he could see. "It's much improved."
"It's much better," he agreed.
They stood for a while close enough that Aniel could see his face clearly. He watched her carefully, something playing in his eyes that she could not read. He had let go of her arm and now wavered, as though undecided, something battling within him. His eyes were uncharacteristically unsure. He seemed to want to keep eye contact with her, a smile playing around his lips. She wondered what he could possibly want and bit her lip in puzzlement. His eyes flickered down to her mouth and back again.
Annabelle steadily held his gaze. She figured he was playing an innocent game with her. He could not possibly be interested in her in a serious way since they were of different races. She knew that forming a bond with him wasn't possible, no matter that he seemed to toy with her. She remembered the way Aragorn often teased or made reference to Legolas' many conquests. There was no way he could desire a human when he had all the Mirkwood elleths to choose from. She knew this awkwardness they shared was simply the result of being caught alone together in the woods at night. It was the clear air, the stars, and being away from home. Although she didn't mind standing with him looking into his eyes, it wasn't altogether right in this setting.
She sighed and playfully punched him in the chest. It worked and broke the moment. Legolas pretended to stagger back and she took a step towards him, warning him with mock aggression. He laughed. "You shouldn't be out here alone in the woods at night." He was only half jesting.
"Well, you are nearby in case a beastie comes after me. My screams would alert you."
"You do not always get the chance to scream."
"Then next time I desire to stretch my legs, I will have someone accompany me."
Legolas arched an eyebrow. "Yes, do that."
"I will."
Annabelle did not fail to notice the tension that had began to creep into some of their conversations lately. She shrugged it off.
Since they were already heading that way, they began to walk back towards the camp's light. Legolas wondered again who Annabelle thought he was when he'd startled her before and brought it up.
She said, "I thought you were the "kissing elf"! That particular elf has been on my mind a bit. He gave me a shock, not to mention an unpleasant memory."
"Mentally….are you healed now?" he asked. "I know you were very…..gosta, erm…naer…no, upset!… the day it happened." Clumsy speech aside, he searched her eyes. She wanted to comfort him, even though she was still shaken by the experience and did have many questions about it.
"There is a lot about the encounter that surprised me. I don't know much about your kind, but the dark haired dur-elf, he is not typical of your race. Am I wrong?"
"No, you are not mistaken. There are many groupings of us, scattered into regions long forgotten, and some…..urck, it's best we don't speak of it now."
"Are you sure?" the girl offered. "Wouldn't you feel better if you got it off your chest?" She had noticed how much Legolas had changed since he learned of her encounter with the unknown elf, and how much fear had seemed to plague him. She didn't wish to push him, but her curiosity was roused.
"Er…" he stalled. Clearly he did not think that a bright idea. "When more facts come to hand, you will learn more about it. None of us know for sure…" he trailed off apologetically.
There was something bitter in his eyes whenever he broached what had happened. To Annabelle, there seemed to be more to this matter than simply an unpleasant encounter or cryptic message. Realising it was still too painful for Legolas to speak of, she let it drop. As they walked back into camp she knew she would need to learn more about this matter. It was the least she was owed for her commitment to give them aid.
