Once outside in the brilliant morning sunshine, which blinded Legolas a bit after the relatively dim light of the single Fëanorian lamp, they got Gimli up on the hill pony and the remaining company set off south, toward the Old Forest Road, at a ground-eating lope, Lasselanta and Celebrindal in the lead.
They wound around the back, into the hills, to avoid being seen. The band continued on in silence, for fear of trouble brewing in the north, and the fact that orcs, or worse, Uruk Hai might be nearby. The crisp autumn day wore on, and at dusk they stopped to make camp, their backs up against a large outcropping of lichened rock in and among the stony hills.
"I think we can risk a fire tonight," Lasselanta said softly. Legolas nodded in agreement, for the evening had clouded smoothly over, making the night grey, instead of black.
"A small one only," he replied. Lasselanta threw him a reproving look that said, As if I don't know how to make a fire! He nodded his apologetic concession and let her work as she saw fit.
"I don't suppose you're making a fire tonight?" Gimli asked hopefully.
"As a matter of fact, I am, Master Dwarf," Lasselanta answered with a grin. "Care to find some fuel for me?"
Gimli 'humphed,' "So long as it's wood!" Lasselanta chuckled and Legolas grinned as the dwarf gamely set out on his search.
"So," began Lasselanta when Gimli had gone, "Do you know where we are?"
Legolas sensed that she was not wanting to know, but testing him. "Well, the Ettenmoors and the Mitheithel are to our north, and we're flat up against the Misties, so that makes Trollshaw to our south; about half way to the Old Forest Road and not far from Rivendell."
Lasselanta nodded, "Good, I suspected we weren't far from Rivendell."
Legolas let silence reign for a moment before asking gently, "Then why did you not go there?"
She sighed, then grimly replied, "I'd never been to any other Elven community, so why should the elves of Rivendell be any different from those of Mirkwood?" She turned away to unload Laureaquen's burden.
For the umpteenth time, Legolas mentally kicked himself and all of his brethren before heading out to find Gimli and help.
Lasselanta leaned her head against Laureaquen's now sympathetic neck. "Why?" she muttered to herself. "Why does he have to pry so, and yet be so kind?" With a sigh, she turned her attention back to the task at hand. Laureaquen was very strong, but not a packhorse, and the straps had rubbed at his coat. She made a mental note to pad the straps better in the morning. For now, she unceremoniously dumped the gear on the ground, remembering just in time to save the pack with the cookware and the one with Feanor's lamps as well. Then, she tended to the hill pony, removing his saddle and the light pack he was carrying as well.
As she dug for the currying brush, Legolas and Gimli returned, arms full of brushwood, and yes, even dried dung. After he had set down his load, Lasselanta handed Legolas the currycomb, then proceeded to build a tiny fire.
"That's no fire!" Gimli cried, outraged. "How on Middle Earth am I supposed to get warm with that undersized thing!"
"Gimli," Legolas admonished playfully. "You of all people know that sometimes the smallest things can be the most powerful!" Gimli merely sputtered his annoyance.
"Legolas is right, Gimli," Lasselanta replied gently. "A small fire can exude more of its heat outward, instead of upward, like a large fire. Plus, it will keep the light and smoke down to a minimum and help keep us from being noticed." Gimli 'humphed,' but held his tongue, and went to dig out the heavy blankets they were going to need on this frigid night.
When she was finished building the fire, Lasselanta opened the food pack, then turned and gestured to Legolas, "All yours, Master Elf!" she smiled.
Gimli protested heartily, "I will not eat his cooking for one more night!"
"Oh, come now, Gimli!" Lasselanta replied teasingly. "I want to give Legolas a chance and come to my own conclusions!" Legolas kept his silence as he worked, pulling out a stout cooking skin and filling it with barley. Gimli groaned, but Legolas ignored him, turning to block the fire from view. Lasselanta settled down against a rock and wrapped herself in a blanket, letting him work. Gimli fiddled with his weapons, the horses peacefully munched on the sparse grass, stomping every now and again. Grateful for a chance to rest after a long day, Lasselanta looked up into the peacefully swirling grey clouds in the dark sky.
Lasselanta awoke to the savory scent of mutton and dill. She opened her eyes to see Legolas crouched beside her, a steaming bowl of porridge in his hand. She smiled ruefully and took it with a murmured thanks.
"Don't worry," he comforted, "You weren't asleep long."
"I shouldn't've been asleep at all," Lasselanta retorted, somewhat annoyed with herself.
"You're too hard on yourself, missy!" Gimli countered, enjoying his dinner and toasting his feet by the tiny fire.
"He's right, you know," Legolas agreed. "You can't expect to wear yourself out entirely one night and be perfectly fine the next." Lasselanta merely tightened her lips and kept quiet. She turned her attention to her dinner. The porridge consisted of barley, mutton, dill, and salt, and was actually very good.
"Legolas is a good cook, Gimli," Lasselanta disagreed. Gimli merely glared at her and ungraciously accepted a bowl of his own from Legolas. Lasselanta looked at Legolas, who met her eyes with a small smile, and allowed herself one of her own.
Gimli, who had finished his porridge hastily, said gruffly, "I'll take first watch."
"You'll take the last watch," Legolas told Lasselanta. When he saw that she was about to protest, he overruled her, "You need your rest," he said firmly. "I can't show my face at Rivendell with an overworked elf on my hands."
"Half elf," Lasselanta muttered under her breath, but she accepted his argument, and having finished her dinner, quietly thanked him again and found a comfy little hollow to curl up in.
She woke at dawn, refreshed, only to remember that she was supposed to take the last watch. She cast her glance about, searching for that traitor, Legolas. She found him standing silent sentry at the top of the hill, still as a tree, hair ruffled by the wind. Shaking off the night's dew and loosening her hair, she walked up behind him and stood next to him, lips pressed into a thin, annoyed line.
Legolas turned to look at her sun-drenched profile, "Good morning," he offered pleasantly.
"What happened to the third watch?" she retorted, still annoyed.
"Gimli and I survived with just two before, it was easy enough to do it again," he replied easily. "Besides, do you think I like to give up the chance to see such a glorious sunrise?" and with one sweeping gesture and a smile, he outlined the whole brilliant horizon that was touching the surrounding hills with rosy pink and deep gold.
Lasselanta looked at him out of the corners of her eyes, but couldn't stay annoyed for long, not in the face of such mischievous joy. So, instead, she yawned, stretched thoroughly, and nearly flew down the hill at a dead run, glorying in the wind in her hair and her feet on the earth.
Legolas watched her in amusement as she loped across the hilly plain, illuminated by the rising sun. She was still an enigma to him, quick to anger, quick to smile, and always running. With a smile, he shook his head to himself. He was a patient elf, he'd figure it out, sooner or later.
He ambled easily back to the camp and found Gimli groggily rousing the fire from its bed.
"Now where's the lassie run off to?" he grouchily demanded.
"She's gone for a run," Legolas replied amiably.
"Well I'm making breakfast!" and so the dwarf set to making a hearty meal of fried sausage and potatoes, muttering all the while, "About time we had some real food on this trip!"
Not at all offended, Legolas set about tidying up the camp, packing up their blankets, covering their tracks, and currying the horses. By the time Gimli had breakfast ready, Lasselanta still had not returned, and Legolas began to worry a bit. So, after eating lightly (and managing to offend Gimli, who merely "humphed" as he was wont to do), Legolas set out to find her.
From the hill where he had kept watch, Legolas set out at a slow lope, following her fair tracks in the grass. He had gone quite a ways when his sensitive nose detected water. Knowing that they would need some before they were to continue onward, he followed the scent to a small copse of low trees and shrubs. A small spring welled up from a cluster of rocks on a squat hill and flowed down into the copse. Curious, Legolas made his way carefully through the brush, and soon saw a small, clear pool that had collected in a low spot between hills. He smiled at the lovely spot, but then his eyes caught on a disturbance at the middle of the pond, and widened as a lithe white figure rose out of the water. It took him a moment to get over the shock before he figured out that it was Lasselanta who stood so gloriously before him, her hair dark and dripping, but holding no glint in the sun. Her back was to him, and still half in the water, she reached behind and wrung her hair out, brown-stained water flowing over her hands. She pulled her hair over her shoulder, saw the dripping brown water, and sighed before diving under again.
Legolas smiled to himself at the sight of her sleek form in the water, then remembered himself and moved away and back toward the source of the spring to fill his water skin. When he was finished, he cupped his hands and tasted the sweet cold stuff himself, when he heard a humming. It was Lasselanta, and she was humming the Namarië. He smiled, and turned to leave, when she broke out into song, "Ai! laurië lantar lassi súrinen, yéni únótimë ve rámar aldaron!" her clear, near soprano voice ringing softly about the hills. An idea formed in Legolas' head, so he answered in harmony on the next lines, "Yéni ve lintë yuldar avánier mi oromardi lissë-miruvóreva..." and as she broke off, startled, so did he. Grinning, he moved again through the copse, make a bit of noise so she would know he was coming. When he reached the shoreline, he saw, with a twinge of regret, that she'd left the water and was already half-dressed.
"I thought that was you, Lasselanta," he said amiably.
"You startled me," she ruefully replied, wringing her dark hair out.
"Did you really need a bath so badly?" Legolas grinned, skirting the water's edge as he walked toward her.
Lasselanta merely made a face at him, "No, but I did need to dye my hair," and she pointed to her head. "I can't go gallivanting around the countryside with garish red hair!"
Legolas looked sadly at her now dun-brown and drying hair. "Pity," he sighed, "I liked it the other way."
Lasselanta looked slightly startled, but then gave him a warm smile, "It's not permanent, you know. It'll be gone the next time I wash my hair."
Legolas winked roguishly, "Good."
Lasselanta raised an eyebrow at Legolas' surprising behavior. Perhaps it was because they'd been above ground for several days now, but he seemed to be acting more and more strangely. She mentally shrugged and tucked that thought away before she began braiding her hair. She was combing it with her fingers, when she felt Legolas behind her, and then felt his hands on hers.
"Let me," he said quietly, and Lasselanta, puzzled, acquiesced. "Sit," he requested, and she gracefully folded her legs as she dropped to the ground. He knelt behind her and began to comb her hair with his own fingers, being very gentle with the snarls. After a few moments of feeling quite peculiar, Lasselanta began to relax and let him work, eyes closed to the flooding warmth and light of the sun. Soon, the lovely feeling of his fingers in her hair gave way to a tingling scalp as he gently pulled her hair into an intricate braid.
Legolas was pleased when Lasselanta began to relax. She really did have lovely hair, though he was sad to see the light gone from it. As he plaited her hair into two braids, each starting at her temples, he breathed in the scent of her hair and the spring and basked in the warmth of the sun. As a middle child, he'd had a lot of experience braiding his brother's and sister's hair, so when he was finished, the effect was quite lovely: two soft but secure braids ran from her temples to the base of her neck, where he'd carefully tucked the long curls into a low knot.
"There," he said when he was finished and leaned back on his haunches to study the effect. "You're done."
Lasselanta gingerly reached back and felt her hair, and made a sound of pleasant surprise. She then tried shaking her head to see how loose it was, and was pleased that it stayed in place. She turned, leaning on one hand, and grinned at him. "My thanks, Legolas! I never was very good at doing anything other than a single braid."
With the sun on her face and sparkling in her eyes, Legolas realized just what an attractive elfmaid Lasselanta really was. In a fit of impulse, he boldly reached out and with a few fingers under her chin, gently turned her head from one side to the other before commenting, "Not a bad job, but it doesn't do you justice," and with that, he smiled down into those lovely grey eyes.
Lasselanta looked up at him, startled by the warmth in his eyes and the truth in his voice. "Thank you," she replied softly with a shy smile. He was looking at her in a way that made her stomach flutter, something she wasn't certain she was quite ready for. So, she gathered her feet under herself and stood, then stooped and lent a hand to Legolas, who certainly didn't need it, but politely took it anyway. But when he didn't let go of her hand after he stood, she looked at him with wary eyes, worried about his intentions.
"We should get back," she said hastily, pulling her hand from his and gathering up her things. "Gimli will be wondering after us."
Legolas merely let her go, and then, with a small sigh, followed her through the copse and back to camp.