A Silent Accord
Chapter Four
The fire crackled softly.
The wolf, still at Legolas's side, let out a slow breath, almost as if it was sighing.
Then, it stepped back, retreating into the night, silver eyes lingering on the elf for a moment longer before slipping into the shadows.
Legolas did not stop it.
He simply watched.
The moment the wolf disappeared, the weight in the air shifted.
As if whatever presence had been watching them was now… gone.
Or, perhaps, had simply chosen to leave.
Legolas exhaled, his fingers curling around something strange.
He looked down.
And his breath hitched.
A black feather.
It had not been there before.
It was impossibly dark, long, elegant, yet pulsing with some unknown energy.
Legolas swallowed hard, his fingers tightening around it.
His heart pounded as a single thought surfaced, unbidden.
I was right.
And for the first time, he was certain.
The wolf was not the one watching them.
Something else was.
Someone.
And now, Legolas would find out who.
An Unspoken Understanding
For a long moment, there was nothing but silence.
Then, to their shock, the wolf moved.
Not aggressively. Not as a hunter might when stalking prey.
Instead, it walked forward—calmly, deliberately—toward Legolas.
The elf did not move.
His heart pounded against his ribs, but he held his ground, watching as the massive creature closed the distance between them, step by step.
Every instinct told him to react, to raise his bow, to move.
But something deeper, something older, told him to wait.
The wolf stopped mere feet from him.
Up close, it was even larger than he had realized, the power beneath its sleek form evident in every controlled movement. Its fur shifted in the firelight, seeming less like hair and more like the living embodiment of a shadow.
And then—
It lowered its head.
Not in submission. Not in surrender.
But in acknowledgment.
A quiet exhale left Legolas's lips.
They were not enemies.
He knew that now.
His hand, before he could stop himself, reached out—hesitant, slow. His fingers brushed against dark fur, impossibly soft, yet tingling with an energy that was neither warm nor cold.
The moment his fingers made contact, he felt it—
A presence. A whisper. A weight pressing against the world.
Something unseen. Someone unseen.
And it was watching him.
Legolas's breath caught in his throat.
This was not just a wolf.
This was something else.
Someone else.
His gaze flickered toward the treeline, toward the darkness that stretched beyond their firelight.
He knew—he knew—that something was there.
Something watching.
And for the first time, he felt as if it was watching only him.
The Others Take Notice
Boromir exhaled harshly. "I don't like this."
Aragorn's gaze never left the scene before them, his sharp mind piecing together fragments of a puzzle that none of them could fully see.
"This is no ordinary beast," the ranger murmured. "And I do not believe it is alone."
Gimli scoffed. "You think there's more of these demons in the woods?"
Aragorn did not answer immediately.
Because the truth was, he did not know.
What he did know, however, was that Legolas had felt something just now.
The elf was as still as stone, his fingers still tangled in the wolf's dark fur, his gaze distant. Listening.
For what, Aragorn did not know.
But he had a feeling that Legolas did.
And that was more unsettling than the wolf itself.
In the Shadows, Unseen
Harry remained at the edge of their awareness, standing just beyond the light of the fire.
He should have left.
But he hadn't.
Moros had stepped forward on his own, and now Legolas was searching for him.
Even if the elf did not yet know who he was looking for, he felt it.
And Harry… was intrigued.
For the first time in centuries, someone was reaching for him.
And he did not move away.
The Silence
The fire crackled softly.
The wolf, still at Legolas's side, let out a slow breath, almost as if it was sighing.
Then, it stepped back, retreating into the night, silver eyes lingering on the elf for a moment longer before slipping into the shadows.
Legolas did not stop it.
He simply watched.
The moment the wolf disappeared, the weight in the air shifted.
As if whatever presence had been watching them was now… gone.
Or, perhaps, had simply chosen to leave.
Legolas exhaled, his fingers curling around something strange.
He looked down.
And his breath hitched.
A black feather.
It had not been there before.
It was impossibly dark, long, elegant, yet pulsing with some unknown energy.
Legolas swallowed hard, his fingers tightening around it.
His heart pounded as a single thought surfaced, unbidden.
I was right.
And for the first time, he was certain.
The wolf was not the one watching them.
Something else was.
Someone.
And now, Legolas would find out who.