"Legolas!" calls a happy ecstatic voice from in front of the weary
party. The young Elf, his hair having only grown to reach his shoulders
and his scars and wounds still vivid on his flesh and face, looks up
suddenly at the familiar voice. Aragorn looks worriedly in front of him.
He had feared the reaction his friend would receive from his people. He is
surprised to see a smile grace the Elf's face. It warms his heart that his
friend can still smile after all he had suffered from the hands of Orcs.
Legolas still walks with a slight limp, but is overall much improved physically. He is still emotionally and mentally tortured. His light laughter failed to sound for nearly four months, and it had been as long since he willingly met anyone's eyes. "Legolas!" calls the voice again, getting closer to them. Suddenly a female elf bursts out of the pack of elves that were gathered. "Oh thank all that you're alive," she croons in a lower tone.
Legolas looks down, as he hears the muttering of his people. The whisper about his appearance, his hair and all the rumors of what has happened. He can not bare to look at them. While this is happening Aragorn looks at the young Elf that has moved now to Legolas's side, and walks with them toward Rivendell. At first, he sees nothing but a normal elf maiden, but then when the wind catches her hair he sees a scar across her neck. He even sees that she rarely shows her hands, and wears a gown that shows as little skin as possible.
When he pulls himself from his observations he notices that she has subtly guided them off the main road, and onto a more secluded lane. He sees Legolas grow more at ease with the surrounding. When they are far from the gathered Elves Aragorn convinces the two to pause for a moment. "So, what they are saying is true?" asks the young Elf, of Aragorn.
"If they are saying that he was captured and tortured by Orcs, and then went on to fight bravely for his people and all of Middle-Earth, then yes it is true," states Aragorn. The young Elf smiles at him.
"You are a kind hearted person, my Lord. You will make Gondor a fine king and the Lady Arwen a fine husband," she replies before turning to Legolas.
Aragorn unconsciously steps back but not to far. "You understand my pain now?" she asks Legolas.
"Yes," he replies not looking up.
She takes his chin in her hand, and Aragorn sees that it is covered in thin scars and pitted with burn marks. She raises his chin gently and forces him to look in her eyes. "Never look down, and never look back," she says quietly. "It does not do you well to not look at the future all around you." She releases hold of his chin.
To Aragorn's surprise, Legolas keeps looking up. "When I returned to Mirkwood from the Orcs, I ran from the whispers and the cold glares. They told me I was no longer an Elf, that I had fallen into darkness and was lost to our people. I sought to die, to rid myself of the pain. I ran deep into the woods, but in my anguish, I failed to look ahead of me.
I ran into the arms of a kind hearted Elf, who made me stop and tell him what was wrong. He never once shuddered at the scars that covered me, or grimaced at the ratty, tattered condition of my short, dirty hair, and he never once offered pity.
He listened to ever horror that the Orcs caused me, and held me as I cried for the first time, and sang a lullaby as I slept. Then when I awoke, he took me by the hand and led me back. He would not allow me to look down or to look back, and I will not let him do that either," she says softly, gently. Her eyes look only into Legolas's, without tearing or flinching. Slowly she takes his hand.
Legolas still walks with a slight limp, but is overall much improved physically. He is still emotionally and mentally tortured. His light laughter failed to sound for nearly four months, and it had been as long since he willingly met anyone's eyes. "Legolas!" calls the voice again, getting closer to them. Suddenly a female elf bursts out of the pack of elves that were gathered. "Oh thank all that you're alive," she croons in a lower tone.
Legolas looks down, as he hears the muttering of his people. The whisper about his appearance, his hair and all the rumors of what has happened. He can not bare to look at them. While this is happening Aragorn looks at the young Elf that has moved now to Legolas's side, and walks with them toward Rivendell. At first, he sees nothing but a normal elf maiden, but then when the wind catches her hair he sees a scar across her neck. He even sees that she rarely shows her hands, and wears a gown that shows as little skin as possible.
When he pulls himself from his observations he notices that she has subtly guided them off the main road, and onto a more secluded lane. He sees Legolas grow more at ease with the surrounding. When they are far from the gathered Elves Aragorn convinces the two to pause for a moment. "So, what they are saying is true?" asks the young Elf, of Aragorn.
"If they are saying that he was captured and tortured by Orcs, and then went on to fight bravely for his people and all of Middle-Earth, then yes it is true," states Aragorn. The young Elf smiles at him.
"You are a kind hearted person, my Lord. You will make Gondor a fine king and the Lady Arwen a fine husband," she replies before turning to Legolas.
Aragorn unconsciously steps back but not to far. "You understand my pain now?" she asks Legolas.
"Yes," he replies not looking up.
She takes his chin in her hand, and Aragorn sees that it is covered in thin scars and pitted with burn marks. She raises his chin gently and forces him to look in her eyes. "Never look down, and never look back," she says quietly. "It does not do you well to not look at the future all around you." She releases hold of his chin.
To Aragorn's surprise, Legolas keeps looking up. "When I returned to Mirkwood from the Orcs, I ran from the whispers and the cold glares. They told me I was no longer an Elf, that I had fallen into darkness and was lost to our people. I sought to die, to rid myself of the pain. I ran deep into the woods, but in my anguish, I failed to look ahead of me.
I ran into the arms of a kind hearted Elf, who made me stop and tell him what was wrong. He never once shuddered at the scars that covered me, or grimaced at the ratty, tattered condition of my short, dirty hair, and he never once offered pity.
He listened to ever horror that the Orcs caused me, and held me as I cried for the first time, and sang a lullaby as I slept. Then when I awoke, he took me by the hand and led me back. He would not allow me to look down or to look back, and I will not let him do that either," she says softly, gently. Her eyes look only into Legolas's, without tearing or flinching. Slowly she takes his hand.
