A/N It's not much, but it's something. Natural disasters do have a way of giving me time off that can be put towards writing instead of paying attention to real life. For a change of pace, things are on fire this time. You know, instead of blizzards or hurricanes. What can I say, California just be like that sometimes. (and by sometimes I mean yearly, but that's neither here nor there)
For now, so long as the wind doesn't change too drastically I'll be fine on my end, but I've got some friends and co-workers who's homes are right in the wildfire's path so if you wanna send some good vibes our way in whatever form or denomination you choose, I'm sure it couldn't hurt. This isn't my first fire rodeo but that makes it both better and worse in different ways I think. So we're escaping reality to go to Middle-Earth for a bit cause how else do people deal with bad things if not escapism?
Also speaking of rodeos, have y'all seen Twisters? Are you all as in love with Glen Powell as I am and Twisters only made it worse? Are any of you ACTUALLY Glen Powell? If so, hi, I'm single. Feel free to slide into my DMs. Also I had no idea you were an Aragorn/OC fan. See, we already have something in common :P
ANYWAY all jokes aside I hope everyone is doing well and nobody else is dealing with wildfires right now cause that shit sucks ass. And if you are, stay safe, take breaks from the news, and let yourself find some escapism if you can. Hopefully this might help with that even a little.
The winter sun that came down over the market was cold, but bright. The southern winters of Gondor were still a far cry from the icy autumn of the north and dare she say, she almost didn't need her cloak.
Hand in hand, she and Aragorn wandered the street, something they hadn't done in more than half a year's time. It was their first outing since she'd come home. It was hard not to notice the eyes that lingered on them longer than usual but, aside from going back to a somewhat normal schedule, that was part of the point. The people of Minas Tirith needed to see her alive and at Aragorn's side more than anyone did. Some seemed suspicious almost, others relieved. After hundreds of years without a King, the idea that an heir might not be as certain as they'd thought, had no doubt shaken some of their confidence. Normalcy. It was as important to her for herself as it was for them. They all needed life to go back to normal again.
Aragorn's hand was clasped around hers, warm and sturdy as they walked. Grounding more so now than she could ever remember before the quest for the mountain. She hadn't thought she could fall more in love with him but even now, more than a month later, she was sure it had only grown since April. How could it not?
He passed some coin to a merchant and handed her a warm, fresh roll, steam rolling off of it in the cool morning air. She let go of his hand long enough to break it in three, hand a portion to him, and then another to Halbarad, who was meandering several feet behind them. Her forever shadow.
The bread was sweet and practically melted on her tongue, the exact opposite of the hard bread she'd eaten while traveling. It made her mouth water for more and Aragorn handed her his portion with an unsurprised smirk before she could look longingly at the market stall for another.
Walking again she smiled and looped her arm through his, pressing close against him. "Feels like home." She sighed, looking around and beginning to notice everything that had changed in her absence.
She paused as she caught sight of a building to their right, one that hadn't been there when she'd left. "Oh my god, they finished it?"
It wasn't anything more special than the others, just a shop, but it had been a shop that had come face to face with a flaming boulder during the siege and been reduced to a charred shell of rubble. As she stepped away to get a closer look, Aragorn's hands trailed down her arm as he too stepped away to his own distraction.
"Nothing could slow down the stone smiths except for war itself." Halbarad said, following her. "Your plans were quite thorough, it appears they had little trouble finishing them."
She smiled up at the two story building and the recessed balcony at the top that faced the west. Laundry blew on a line in the breeze, hung between stone hooks carved into the walls. Little touches, but she recognized them.
"Eowyn was showing me the numbers but it's nice to see for myself that people are getting their homes back."
The wind shifted again and blew through the open door of the shop, bringing with it the smells of cooking and the heavy, smoky scent of meat on a spit. Unwittingly Josephine grimaced and her stomach soured. Her mind drew back, finding images of fire, sounds of screams, and charred black flesh.
She swallowed thickly and turned away, finding a pocket of clean air and gulped at it trying to shake the memory.
Halbarad drew close, blocking her from view of the street. "My lady?"
"Just…" She needed to give him an explanation but wanted to brush it all off the moment it happened. "Laketown. I'm fine."
She never had to elaborate when she spoke to someone else who'd seen battle. He could venture enough of a guess what she meant by naming the place and just nodded understandingly.
All too aware that she was still in public, she quickly schooled her expression and smiled as Aragorn came back with an armful of what looked like…
"Parsnips." He said happily, giving them up to one of the guardsmen who was collecting their finds that morning. "I'm pleased to see the crops were as abundant this year as we'd hoped."
"And pleased because you just really like parsnips." She reminded him, plastering over the sour memories with a smile and slipping her arm back through his.
Josephine pressed her palm against the bow and slowly eased the string back. She paid attention to every tug, every pinch, and the familiar press of the string into her fingers. Beside her, Legolas watched carefully as her wrist got as far as her chin before a shake started in her arms. A tap on her elbow told her to let them drop and she frowned.
"I managed to get it further in Mirkwood when you'd handed me yours."
"You had also not yet battled a dragon and slain an orc general." He reminded her. "We will build your strength again, as we did after Morannon."
"I didn't have muscular damage then, at least not in my back." She argued. Her range of motion was still arrested, whatever she'd managed to pull together for the Battle of the Five Armies was gone, probably due to the damage she'd incurred during the fight. "If I need to accept that I won't be an archer again then just tell me, it's honestly a small price to pay for everything."
"Hope is not yet lost, in time, perhaps we might say such a thing, but not yet." He took the bow and hung it on the rack.
She let him take hold of her arm and lift it in place like she was about to draw, then he slowly eased it back to where she used to anchor. It was tight, and his hand felt like it was the only thing that could keep her arm that far back.
"Are you saying that because you really think I can get back to it, or because you feel guilty?" She knew there was still a general guilt that he held, she could see it in his eyes half the time he looked at her, and she needed to know which was pushing him to start teaching her again.
He paused, pressing a hand to her shoulder blade to feel the muscles under her tunic and using the moment to gather his thoughts.
"Both, perhaps." He admitted, returning her arm to her side. "My treatment of you was distasteful regardless of our future friendship. After understanding fully what had happened, I regret much of that time. I suppose the idea of helping you overcome even some of that pain offers me a chance to repent."
The relief at having her Legolas back overshadowed a lot of her anger at how he'd been in the past. Dare she say he felt a lot worse about it than she did and that alone made her feel better about it. He hadn't once tried to brush off how he'd acted, and he'd been nothing but considerate towards her since they'd met again in Rivendell. In her mind, he'd been making amends since the day of the council.
"Gimli tore you a new one, didn't he?"
Legolas gave her a wry smile. "Things were said in Khuzdul that I can only imagine were curses and insults."
"Did you tell him you called him a goblin mutant?" She grinned.
"No." He narrowed his eyes at her. "And I would hope you would not either."
She had no intention to, but she had a bit of fun and looked like she was giving it some thought.
"Josephine, please…"
"I won't, I promise." She laughed. "You should've seen your face!"
Shaking his head, he handed her back the bow. "I suppose I deserved that."