Being alone in the woods was far different than being with companions. Every tree branch Sìneag broke with her still-awkward steps, every birdcall, every motion around her carried with it a different feel and weight in her mind. Sìneag was hyperaware of her weakness in the forest as she never had been before. Helena had always kindly pointed them out and helped her along the way, or Damhán had rudely made a spectacle of them. Now, without anyone to indicate them to her but the memories of their pointers echoing through her mind, she seemed to notice every error she made in a way she never had before. With no one else with her, the natural silence of the forest was more noticeable and Sìneag could tell how foreign her own presence was.
It was the first time she'd been alone since she'd fled the lake after Helena was swept away in the claws of the dragon and Sìneag felt her pulse race at this realization. Why did she think she could do this? She couldn't face the elves – or anyone – alone. What would she possibly say that would convince the elves that they should help a group of humans who were not entirely blameless in their situation? What words could possibly explain the nightmare she had just gone through and would express how sorely in need of help her people were? Who was she to carry on this quest when she had no inner strength? She was much weaker than Helena had ever been and she had to admit to herself she could not fill her sister's shoes.
She stopped suddenly, kicking up a cloud of leaves and dirt around her. It was time to turn back, to go back to what remained of her home and accept defeat. She was not capable of this. It was that simple.
Yes, Sìneag, a voice said, deep in her thoughts. Yes you are.
Sìneag felt like crying. The voice was Helena's, the same comforting, convincing tone she had used when she had made a mistake hunting or identifying a plant or any of the other countless mistakes she seemed to make throughout the day. Helena had always believed in her when no one else had. And now it was time for Sìneag to continue that for herself. Helena, had she lived, would not have always been there for her and Sìneag would have had to learn to hold her own anyway. So why not now?
She continued on, walking as quickly and quietly as possible. She managed to reach the beginnings of elf territory by late afternoon; she could feel a change in the air, an ethereal, enchanting quality that seemed to hang about like a mist. The road split, one path heading deeper into the forest, the other continuing to wind along the river towards the elves' abodes. Sìneag kept towards the river, wondering how long she could keep herself unknown from the ever-observant elves.
The answer was only a mere matter of seconds. Two tall, lithe beings with long blond hair and cool grey eyes emerged from a thicket near the river and stepped into the road, blocking Sìneag's path.
"What brings you here, human girl?" one of them asked, a male with bow slung over one shoulder. Sìneag felt strangely at ease; the bow reminded her of Helena and for some reason she felt that if this archer shared something in common with her sister, he could not be that frightening.
"I've come to ask for help from Lord Thranduil," Sìneag explained, naming the elves' king. "My village of Dale has been destroyed by the terrible worm, Smaug, and we ask your king's aid to help rebuild – just simple shelters – before the winter sets in."
"We do not help humans," the other elf, also male, said coldly. "Come, Legolas." He turned and walked away. The archer, however, did not follow and continued to study
Sìneag, almost sadly.
"What do you ask of my people?" the elf inquired.
"Simply your labor. We have not enough hands to erect structures in the time given to us," Sìneag said. "I am certain that whatever work your people do will be rewarded. We do not ask for much, merely your skill and your time."
The elf named Legolas nodded. "I will talk with Thranduil. Wait here." He walked away, leaving Sìneag standing beside the river, feeling confused. What now? She was still a great distance from where the elves' home was marked on the map and, while the elves were known for their swiftness, she doubted that Legolas would return any time that day. Preparing to spend the night where she was, she made camp and ate dinner, watching the river flow past and listening to the birdsong overhead.
She drifted off to sleep and was surprised when the morning's light flared its way through her eyelids, awaking her. Feeling a bit stiff from sitting propped up against a tree, she stretched slowly and began making breakfast. Would Legolas come back now? Or would he not return, afraid to tell her that the only hope Dale had was gone?
Her question was answered soon after she'd broken her fast. Legolas appeared elegantly from between the trees like a deer walking into a clearing. He smiled at her and dropped down lightly onto a fallen tree across from her camp.
"I spoke with Thranduil," he said, "and though it took much convincing on my part, he has agreed to send four of our most skilled carpenters to help your village rebuild."
"Thank you," Sìneag said gratefully. "I don't know how you managed it, but thank you. I owe you a debt."
"You owe Thranduil a debt, not I," Legolas smiled. "One day the time will come to repay that debt, I do not doubt, but worry not about it now. Your village shall be saved."
"Thank you," Sìneag said, tears filling her eyes. "Thank you, Legolas."
"You are welcome, Sìneag of Dale. Blessings on your days ahead."
He disappeared back into the forest and Sìneag shook her head, smiling and marveling that he had gleaned her name. An enigmatic lot, the elves. They always liked to leave with an aura of mystery.
She packed her things and prepared to return home – well, the makings of her new one, at least. A spring entered her steps as Sìneag thought of being reunited with Tammara and suddenly the long trek back didn't seem so frightful. Return journeys were always easier than parting ones, right?