Ondienne had flowers tucked behind her ear that held back her loose, golden curls. She rarely let her hair out of its braids, and no one really knew just how lovely it was. The sun was setting and shining its pink alpenglow over the Igrey Mountains that towered around them.
Each patrol of the ninth division was there. Some were on their way to relieve another, their armor clean, their hair in perfect order, as if for the occasion. Many were weathered and bloodied from recent action, or with sunken faces from many months on patrol. But they were all here. They wouldn't have missed this for anything. They stood silent, beaming, surrounding the two scouts who were hand in hand in the center of it all, barely able to contain their happiness as they listened to the general beside them.
"I've known you both since you were little elflings," General Faenor said. His sword hung heavily at his waist and he pressed his hand tightly to his armored chest as he spoke. "I've watched you both grow into two of the most talented scouts this division has ever known. And two of the most incredible young elves I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. I couldn't imagine two people more perfect for each other.
The two warriors clasped hands, and the general held his own tightly around theirs. He bowed his head and prayed aloud, asking for the blessing of the Gods. Legolas pledged his vow of loyalty, then Ondienne, both unable to hide their smiles. With the general's final blessing, Legolas took Ondienne's face in his hands and pulled her into a kiss.
After the ceremony, a bonfire was lit. The flames grew as dusk fell, soon towering as high as a tree. Embers danced into the sky to join the stars. The warriors wrapped themselves in their finest furs to guard against the bitter arctic air, some donning their ceremonial headdresses as they danced. Drums beat in unison; elk bones were rattled and struck together; a massive horn shook the air as it blared its haunting tune.
Singers beat their chests and closed their eyes as they cried out with all their might for the Gods to hear. It was a warrior's song, heard only at weddings. They aimed to shake the mountains with their horn, awaken the woods with their drums, and cry out for the stars to hear them beg for the lovers to be spared the pain that was coming for them. The death of one would mean the death of the other. In soul, and if the elf wasn't strong enough, in body. This was a heavy promise for immortal creatures to bear. The elves danced around the fire through the night. They stomped the dirt and rattled their swords. The air was exalted and triumphant and heavy with sorrow.
"-Legolas." Captain Aereneth's voice called through his dreams. The prince jolted awake, stunned at how exhausted he still felt.
"We should be on the move. It's not safe to stay here too long." Aereneth smiled down at him.
Legolas nodded weakly and pulled off his battered woolen blanket. He packed with the others while those who had awoken earlier tended to the fire and cooked a hot breakfast for the patrol. Legolas wondered why they were taking a risk with food odors, but the desperate clawing of his stomach put that thought to rest quickly. He traveled light and was ready within minutes. He sat with the others at the fire, wincing slightly with each movement, wishing he hadn't packed his blanket just yet.
Ondienne handed him a steaming mug. As Legolas took it, she rested her fingers softly over his and wished him a good morning with a wordless smile, as she always did. The two sat together drinking their tea in silence. Legolas used a stick to peel away leaves frozen to the soil. Everyone knew there was a week left in their patrol. Give or take a few days. Despite their weariness, there were more smiles, more excited energy. But Legolas just felt dread. While the others let their minds wander to soft beds, warm baths, favorite meals, or playing with their children, Legolas planned for how he was going to fill his time.
He glanced over to Ondienne. He watched her nodding, laughing, talking with the others. He already felt heart sick with longing. He already missed her so much. What if he wasn't assigned with her again on the next patrol? One hundred and seventeen people in the ninth division, six divisions, only three patrols deployed at any given time. It could be months. In these moments, right before going home, with his sadness at its apex, these were the times he had such silly ideas. I'm going to ask her to announce our marriage publicly, he thought. He would thank his division for their discretion for all this time. Their loyalty and love. But they wouldn't have to keep secrets anymore, he'd tell them. Losing himself in this fantasy so elated him that a smile came to his face. And Ondienne caught it immediately.
She shot him a serious look. She made her thoughts clear many times. She would never agree to it. She would outright deny it. She had told him he would never have her support. So his smile faded, reality brought him back to the earth. She squeezed his hand and looked away.
After breakfast, Aereneth went through his ritual of dousing the fire, burying it in a thick layer of earth, and spreading leaves and twigs over the top. The scouts each tended to their own areas where they slept and lived. The campsite was soon painted over with dirt and foliage and gave almost no sign that anyone was ever there. Rain began to fall as they started their hike, light at first and then relentless.
As Captain Aereneth's second in command, Legolas walked with him in the front. The two studied the map and chose the next landmark- a rocky ridge that followed along the Forest River. Averaging twenty miles a day has kept them well on track to patrol their assigned area thoroughly enough to go home with their heads held high. But at times the relentless hiking, coupled with an unusually dreary and wet fall, had sometimes left them dealing more reactively to the orc hordes than Legolas and his captain would have liked. Although it had been nearly three days since they last engaged in direct combat, muscles were still sore and some minor injuries were taking a long time to heal.
For roughly ten miles, the scouts navigated the thick brush and tangles of roots and branches. Many found it easier to take to the trees and hop from branch to branch above their comrades. By mid-day, the scouts reached the Forest River. The trees opened up and they now stood on a wide, rocky beach. Stretched before them was the braided river, split into smaller branches winding along a massive gravel bar. The trees, with their safety and cover, were often times suffocating. Everyone seemed to feel a weight lift off their chests with these views of rolling hills and craggy mountains beyond the horizon…The horizon. When was the last time they saw that?
Legolas and his captain checked the map once more. "It actually looks like we'll have this flat beach for the rest of the way to the ridge. It's the most direct route, too." Aereneth said.
Legolas pursed his lips, still staring at the map. "I mean, you're right. It's definitely the quickest way. And it's flat. But I just don't like how exposed we'll be."
"Possibly we could stay close to the forest's edge." Captain Aereneth said. "I think as long as we're moving, we'll be alright. We move faster than anything else out here. So, no breaks." He seemed genuinely excited about this plan. This beach was an unexpected gift. And natural beauty was the ultimate tonic to an elf's soul. Legolas could already feel a shift in the group's mood.
Legolas smiled and nodded in agreement. His gut seemed to be screaming something at him, but he had gotten too good lately at suppressing some of his instincts. Trying to be the version of himself that others expected him to be.
Almost too perfectly, the rain became a light drizzle. The clouds thinned and then parted completely. When the sun broke through, the scouts were overjoyed. Many removed their sodden cloaks and let their tunics finally dry out. There was still a chill in the air, their breath hung in clouds. But it felt so, so good. Legolas walked for a time with his eyes closed. He could feel the stones beneath his feet. He could hear the water rushing beside him, feel the sun so warm on his face. His vision was nothing but a radiant white glow.
In a week, he would be home. Give or take a few days. But just for today, he decided, he would enjoy himself. He would stop worrying and be in the moment and savor each small, beautiful thing like this. Made all the better by getting to share it with Ondienne. He knew what awaited him at home. Thranduil, sinking into his pit of wild grief. Legolas, expected to be so close that he would get sucked in, too. Thranduil, defined by this righteous, all-consuming misery. And anxiety about a doomsday that drove him to a state of paranoia and gloom. Suppose I do confess, Legolas thought. It won't be the scandal that he cares about. It won't be the legal repercussions, the demotion. No, Thranduil will be jealous. He won't be able to handle the idea of love. This thing that was ripped from him never to return. That Legolas could ever be happy without him.
Legolas clutched the strap of his quiver and let out a forceful sigh. In his bitter musings, he was staring hard at the ground he walked on. But he reminded himself to look up. He stared at the clouds and the way the sun's rays dripped through them. He took full, measured breaths and could feel a sadness in the pit of his stomach. It was easier to be mad at Thranduil than to grieve. It was easier to be a rebel than to think about how the loss of his mother affected him. And how it truly affected his father. The seriousness of the loss. It was easier to fill his mind with thoughts of bitterness than to let those flashes of memory leak through. The happy ones, the horrific ones. The ones where she's smiling. The ones where there's blood on her pale face. Does his father forget that Legolas endured her death right alongside her? Or does he also choose to forget?
And just like every time Legolas oscillated between resentment and compassion like this, he made a quiet promise to himself never to swing back to the former. To never lose this perspective that these strange moments of clarity gave him. But he knew it was a lie. He would likely go violently back and forth like this for the rest of his life.
