Golden Leaves of Lorién
Chapter Nine: Golden Leaves
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She sat in the branches of a large oak tree, hidden partially from the path that ran near the base of the tree by the thick leaves, and blending into the foliage in her greenish-grey tunic and golden hued cloak. Dark eyes widened and a pointed ear turned toward the entrance of the woods where the path began. She listened carefully, her fine-tuned hearing discerning the patter of horses' hooves and the light, nearly silent step of approaching Elves. She perched on the branch, waiting patiently for many minutes until finally the group could be seen through the trees.
The girl's eyes narrowed as they neared, and she held her breath as they began to pass just feet below her. She watched each of them carefully as they passed. They all had wispy, golden hair, each was clad in shades of green and brown, and each was equipped with a bow, quiver, and knives.
Her measuring stare suddenly faltered as she saw one of the Elves on foot halt as the rest continued onward. She tilted her head as she watched him, and against all reason a smile suddenly touched her lips. And although tears were running in streams down her cheeks, she just sat there, smiling.
She felt a shiver run through her body when those piercing eyes locked onto hers and held them there, unwavering, challengingly. But this time it did not astonish her that he had looked directly at her, knowing she would be there, while no others had even sensed or heard her presence in the trees.
And like before, the Elf smiled. But it was a bitter smile, one full of unspeakable sadness. Nevertheless, his eyes held hers.
"Legolas," Elladin was calling. He had stopped just before a turn in the road where it disappeared behind a grove of thick trees, and was waiting for his prince.
The Elf finally averted his gaze against his will, after a time. Tears brimmed his eyes but he bent low to whisper a few words to his horse, and it began to make its way along the road.
She watched him disappear behind the trees.
And then she dropped from her perch on the branch to the ground, where a leaf was settled against the road, perhaps laid there haplessly by the wind. She bent down to pick it up. Her fingers clutched to its golden smoothness as she straightened and stood. A breeze rose from the ground to whisper through the forest, and when it reached her she smiled into it and released the leaf to the wind, to join its companions in a golden myriad of dancing leaves, swept by the wind.