Chapter Twelve

We set out for the mission the following evening, it took place nearly a two days journey east to a small elven community that was nomadic. We had collected the documents requested from King Thranduil and were headed back. We were caught in a rainstorm, on the outskirts of the Mirkwood, we took shelter in a nearly abandoned cave. But not before we got soaked to the bone from the rainfall. Thankfully the documents were safe and dry, I mentally thanked Gandalf for teaching me the spell to keep them so. I hadn't seen the wizard in some time, I wondered vaguely where he was.

I shook my hair out while Legolas went to the mouth of the cave gazing up at the rainfall.

"It looks like we may be here a while, it shows no signs of stopping."

"Lovely,"

I set my pack down and pulled out a couple of blankets, since I began shifting I kept a few with me at all times. On one I set my weapons and the documents so they would remain where the both of us could see them and remain dry. I could feel the prince's eyes on me but I ignored his stare. Pulling my sleeves back so I didn't catch fire. I snapped my fingers and a ball of flame popped into my palm.

"What are you doing?" he sounded tired and that he didn't want to deal with me.

I looked at him like he was dumb.

"Going to find something to burn," I responded.

Legolas looked amused at my response, but pointed outside.

"Anything out there will be wet to burn,"

My eyes turned mischievous.

"Not in here though,"

Before he had time for a snarky remark I headed deeper in the cave. It actually looked quite deep, there were no other exits but it had long since been abandoned by its last occupant. Judging by the sheer side of the bed and nesting, I would say a family of bears or something of equivalent size. There was plenty of bark, kindling, tree branches and the like, asking the fire blob to float I gathered as much as I could carefully carry and headed back to the mouth of the cave, the blob floating ahead of me slightly. Upon returning to the mouth of the cave I nearly dropped the armful I carried. Legolas was in not but his breeches, barefoot and his shirt and tunic were lying on a nearby boulder to dry. I spun around my back to him, I felt my face heat up in blush that went to the tips of my ears. My hearing was able to pick up his lithe footsteps and I heard him chuckle at my reaction. He was right behind me, I tried to slow my rapidly beating heart.

"Do you want to hand that over?"

Without turning around I handed him the woodpile and the fire blob followed him, a few moments later the cave instantly became warmer, signally a fire had been started. I jumped slightly at his hand on my shoulder.

"Get out of your wet things, I'll get more firewood."

I nodded and turned towards the fire. I made sure I no longer saw the muscles on Legolas's back before I tugged off my wet things all the way down and wringed it out before I lay them down behind the boulder before tugging the other blanket I had around me and throwing my hair in a messy bun with a leather band I had. Thanks to the roaring fire the room was much warmer and I got close to the fire, heating up my skin.

Legolas returned a while later and I kept my gaze on the fire as he created a pile of wood off to the side. The silence was a welcome one, but awkward, I could feel questions in the air.

"Father mentioned to me that you were not from our time. Do you remember anything from your own time?" He asked after a moment.

I flinched, and wrapped the blanket tighter, staring into the fire.

"Many things I would rather forget," I mumbled.

Glancing up I saw Legolas watching me with curiosity.

"Bad memories…" he said softly.

I shook my head slowly.

"Not all memories were bad, I remember my mother," I said smiling.

Legolas's eyes softened.

"You miss her,"

I nodded, feeling the emotions well up.

"More than anything, she died when I was ten," I explained.

"You were so young,"

I nodded.

"We didn't know she was ill until the sickness took over her body,"

"There were no treatments to help her?"

I smiled softly.

"Mother was free spirit, she loved to cook and grow things. Any treatments that were available, would make her worse. She didn't want it. So I was with her while she deteriorated."

Legolas was quiet for a while.

"And your father?"

I flinched slightly.

"He didn't want me, he was very old fashioned. He believed women are only good for making children, and taking care of the home. He wanted a boy to carry on his legacy. Because of the sickness, mother wasn't able to have any more children,"

"He sounds charming," Legolas said dryly.

I didn't respond.

"It is not word choice I would use. He is scum. He fooled around with other women while my mother was sick and dying in a hospital bed. Then had the audacity to come and tell her that she was the only one for him. That he would never love another,"

Legolas's eyes darkened and room was bathed in silence again.

"You flinch when people get close…why?"

I hadn't realized I had done that, but I supposed it was true. When too many of the troupe members got too close I did scurry away and avoided physical contact as much as I could. I was loosening up around them, but I suppose I still reacted that way. I looked across the fire at him, part of me searching for the condescending tone, but all I saw was curiosity. I turned so that my back faced him, and lowered the blanket so my back was revealed. I could his him sputter in indignation then quiet down when he realized what he was looking at.

Gently I felt his fingertips brush against a rose shaped scare on my left shoulder. It was deep leaving bumpy and raised ridges. A matching one was on my right shoulder. His fingertips traced the shapes.

"What is…"

I paused, trying to find the courage to find my voice.

"My father is an angry drunk…"

I could feel Legolas's hands freeze, and I knew he looked a little more and saw the silvery slashes of scars that were on my back. They littered my back, arms and neck, the rose shaped ones were the only real prominent ones remaining. Neither of us spoke for several moments, I could hear his heartbeat increase in anxiety.

"Your father…did this…?"

I nodded slowly.

"He began drinking more and more after mother died. He is not a happy drunk, he was banned from several inns and bars, so he took his drinking home. I was usually the only one there…"

Legolas didn't respond, and I moved to pull the blanket up, but Legolas's hand stopped. I turned to ask what he was doing when I felt the feather-light kiss on the scar. Warmth and emotion flood me and the tears just began falling. He didn't say a word, but wrap me up and scooped me on his lap and held me while I cried. His head leaning on the nape of my neck.

Sometime later…

Legolas watched the rain as it fell from the sky, it had been the longest rain he had seen in a long time. The trees were grateful for the rain, the forest needed it. Judging from the way it was falling it seemed they were staying the night in the cave. Turning to look at the fire, it was warm and strong with no signs of dwindling, there was enough kindling to keep it burning. His eyes then lingered on the girl across the way lying on the ground. She had her now dry cloak balled up under her head. Some of her clothes were dry she was currently wearing her underclothes and breeches, her tunic was still damp. The blanket was wrapped around her waist and some of her hair has slipped from her bun and curled around her face. The even breathing from her indicated she was sleeping soundly, she had cried for a while before changing into clothes and curling up to sleep.

This was probably the most serene and calm he had ever seen her, his eyes travelled from her face to her scarred shoulders, he felt anger boil in his stomach. What kind of a man did that sort of damage to his own daughter? Yet the haunted look in her eyes indicated there was more than just the scars on her body. He had seen the silvery scars that littered her body like freckles. She amazed him plan and simple. She smiled and joked around with member of the troupe and yet she fought ferociously like he had seen against the warg. She had saved his life at very nearly the cost of her own. She healed quickly but it still upset a part of him to see her wrapped in bandages for a week. She was stronger than any female he'd known, elven or otherwise. Her crying didn't deter that either, it was just a sign that she was strong for too long…and she broke.

She wasn't too bad for a human after all…