The Night's Wanderer

26. Empty Torches

After Shadowfax had completely left her sight Morel found herself standing with hands on her hips as she watched the warrior of a steed, that she called her loyal companion, roll around on the ground. Legolas had left her side, having to discuss matters with Aragorn as well as ensure the remaining Troublemaker didn't do as his title implied.

"Seriously?" She questioned both amused and confused at the horse's actions. "You chose now to do this?"

Celebrandir paused for a moment, glancing to his rider before giving her an affirming huff. She couldn't stop him, and he knew that.

"Well at least it isn't mud," Morel uttered to herself. There had been no rain since the battle of Helm's Deep so she knew the steed was just dusting up his coat.

It was a natural behaviour, and in all honesty Morel didn't mind. She was just glad it wasn't mud as that was a pain to clean, especially if Celebrandir wanted it on his coat.

Let's just say Morel had tried washing it off him before and she should have not wasted her efforts and put up with the muddy horse as that's what the result ended up being anyway.

Giving a click of her tongue she left Celebrandir to it. She had no control over the wild steed, he was just a very close friend not her property.

Making her way up to the look out where Aragorn had stayed since Pippin and Gandalf left she caught the welcoming scent of pine trees. The Ranger must be smoking his pipe to pass time.

Plopping down beside the brooding man she let her feet just sit grazing the ground. The world around her becoming fuzzy in her own way, as if her magical sight was dulled but still lingered.

"Have you come to a decision then?" Aragorn questioned after some minutes of silence. He was picking up their conversation from breakfast.

"Yes," Morel told him, not knowing he waited on an answer. Legolas had not told him; it was not in his right to say.

"And?" Aragorn pried gently.

A pink dusting settled on Morel's cheeks and ears, something Aragorn had previously thought he would never see. Now that told him the answer right away.

"I agreed, although it will be slow as I know nothing about it all." Morel spoke quietly. She was flustered, she hated not knowing what was deemed common information by others. Hence her vast library of knowledge.

Humming Aragorn smiled, his pipe returning to his lips.

"I'm happy for you both," He commented. Morel gave him another smile, and this one was, in his eyes, genuine and truthful.

Letting out a puff of pine scented air Aragorn sat up straight, his hand sitting on Morel's head and ruffling her hair.

The action was foreign to Morel, but she recalled him doing it last night as well as many times to the Hobbits she believed. It was a sign of affection maybe? Something not done by elves but by men by her guess.

"Why do you keep doing that?" She asked, her brows furrowed showing Aragorn her confusion.

"It is a sign of affection, also kind of an irritant to the receiver, but I can stop if you wish?" Aragorn told her.

Shaking her head side to side Morel declined the offer.

"No, it's fine, I've just never really experienced it and it confused me." Morel clarified.

With a smile tugging at his lip Aragorn made a pledge to himself to treat Morel like the younger sister he saw her as. Many hair ruffles, awkward jests, playful banter, and shared words were in her future.