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My feet felt weak and pitiful no longer numb from the forest, now they raged with inflammation and burned with blister and cuts. I was suddenly breathless again being in such close proximity with a man.
"i-I I am verity" I said blushing fervently pulling my hand from his and running into the hall with my head down. I could hear him chuckle as he followed into the golden hall. I turned rapidly craning my neck looking for my companions for some sort of familiarity. I wished desperately for a chair to sit in to rest my aching bare feet.
"Nature pulls at you mellon nin" a voice said from the left of me it was Legolas leaning against a wall. His jaw sharp in the light. He smiled gesturing for me to join him leaning on the wall. I quickly joined him wincing trying to distribute the weight in my feet. I can't wait to go to bed. I'm not sure why I feel so comfortable in Legolas's presence. We have only just met were still strangers aren't we? Yet my heart leapt seeing him gesture for me to join him.
"What is meel long nen mean?" I asked trying hard to pronounce it correctly the way I heard him say it. I knew it was the same language he spoke with Aragorn before. He laughed, it sounded melodious. He looked at me his eyes sparkled with joy. Was he laughing at me? Did I say it wrong? Is it common sense the word he said and I am to dense to understand basic speech?
"mellon nin means my friend, it is elvish." He looked at me now his eyes such a beautiful blue. No you can't think that. Oh my word, you just met him you know nothing about him or yourself! He turned his head now watching the servants and guards running to and fro listening to the murmurs of orders and commands. I stared at him, taking in all of his looks in detail, he glowed like that of the man and woman I had met yet not as bright, he had no facial hair not even stubble, his frame was nimble yet you could see the shadow of tight muscles underneath his tunic. I gulped looking back up to his face, his hair was still braided the same was as earlier in the day not at all effected by the horse riding or the fighting in the halls. His ears were… what why were they pointy?
"Legolas" I said quietly partly hoping he wouldn't hear and then I wouldn't have to ask. Why did I even open my mouth?! Why was I suddenly comfortable with him for small talk?
He looked at me amused almost as if he knew what I was going to ask.
"Are you an angel?" I asked suddenly mortified with myself. That wasn't what I wanted to ask I wanted to ask why he was so beautiful. Why he glowed. Why his ears pointed. Why did I say that how could I be so silly?! My face was so hot I'm sure you could roast marshmallows off the surface of my blush.
He looked at me quizzically, causing me to blush deeper. "I am of the Eldar, I am elven" he said it like it he was talking to a child. I tried to ignore the embarrassment I felt, my curiosity wanting me to continue questioning him. Elven huh?
"Is Yavanna elven?" I asked without thinking much of it. How would he know Yavanna? Like maybe they would be friends. How am I supposed to know? Maybe all elven know each other and hangout.
His eyes widened in surprise "how do you know of Yavanna?" he asked carefully
Oh no I can't dig my way out of this, maybe Yavanna was his girlfriend. My stomach sank at the thought.
"Yavanna and Manwë sent me here… I remember them speaking like you did earlier and they glowed… more than you." I said my eyes now looking everywhere but his face.
"Yavanna is one of the Aratar, high in the Valar. not elven, she is the queen of earth. In the first days she planted the first seeds of Arda. Everything that grows we can thank her for-"before he could continue he was cut off by Gandalf, Aragorn, and Gimli approaching. He seemed to want whatever he was going to say to be private so I didn't press him. I'm glad to have a friend here besides Gandalf and one who might know more about why I came here or who I am. I beamed thinking of my newfound friendship. A blush crept up on my face thinking of my friend being a very attractive elven. It's not the same as being friends with Gandalf, he felt safe like a grandfather. Legolas was different he felt safe but the feelings aren't grandfatherly. From deeper within the hall men shuffled towards the doors outside past them. They wore ceremonial armor their heads hung low if not from grief, from the weight of the heavy metal helmets. I bowed my head as they passed, in-between the men was the body of what must be the kings son. I could not look up; I could not bring myself to look at the dead. His gray skin and lifeless stench, I couldn't.
As they passed Théoden and Éowyn followed, more guards and subjects lined behind them. There to honor their fallen prince. How did all these people fit in the golden hall? Gandalf stirred falling in line with the grievers the rest of us soon followed I tried to stay close to Gandalf but slowly lost him in the crowd that grew. And my small frame could not compete with the shoves. We walked what seemed to be a similar path as the one we road into the city on. As we passed through the gates of the city, a woman to my left began to wail uncontrollably. I reached my arm out to comfort the stranger. It was strange and felt out of character would I have done this before? Would I have been hospice for the grieved? Who I am now is who I am now it does not matter who I was. The woman gripped my arm and sobbed into my neck as I embraced her. I stroked her hair, the crowd parted around us like a school of fish. We stood embracing until the last of the procession had long past us and her cries were now soft hiccups. "I am ready"
She said determinedly wiping her snot on her hands embarrassed. Letting go of her I noticed where we stood a circle of dianthus pillowed the ground pink and soft flowers. Were they there before? No surely not there wouldn't be just a random garden patch of flowers in the middle of a dirt path. The woman didn't seem to notice and trudged along. I ran to catch up to her and comfort her in her grief. My heart ached for her pain, if I had caused it I knew I would be immobilized. It seemed the entire population was here at Théoden's sons' grave. I couldn't see well over the crowd but could see what looked like a tomb and guard walking inside. Probably carrying the body. A still small voice rang out in the distance; it was a chilling hymn, a language I didn't understand. I craned my neck to better hear, soon more women joined in all singing in the same language. Their lament was heard into the very pits of my soul. I squeezed my eyes shut not wishing to be here. Why do people have to die? I wish I could comfort these people, why was I brought here?
Gandalf came back and helped Théoden; sure I could do something besides a back pat and a there there. Tears began to flow my eyes down onto the ground, my head hung low partially embarrassed I was crying for someone I knew not, my very soul seemed to ache for their pain. The ground underneath me burst forth with color. Petunias a deep purple color seemed to grow out of the very tears I cried. Trailing around my feet and bushing out. Did I do that? Now that I think about it I was in a place where all the plant activity happened? Maybe I am causing it? How do I make it stop? I panicked seeing the purple flowers trailing and going further and further away from where I stood now under some other men and women's feet who seemed none the wiser. I have to get out of here! What am I doing how do I control it? Is this the gift? What if nobody likes it? What if…