Out of Sight, Out of Mind//Legolas

Chapter 8; The White Wizard Approaches

Wind caressed Gilan's face and ruffled his hair as he stood on the top of a small hill, head tilted to the side, carefully listening for the orcs they were hunting.

"Their pace quickens. They must have caught our scent. Hurry!" He shouts and brakes into a run, Aragorn and Legolas closely behind.

"Come on Gimli!" Legolas throws back at the dwarf.

"Three day's and night's pursuit. No food... no rest... and no sign of our quarry but what bare rock can tell." Gimli grumbles under his breath, making the others smile. They run for a while when Aragorn suddenly places his hand on top of Gilan's chest, stopping him. The ranger crouches down.

"Not idly do the leaves of Lorien fall." Aragorn hums and picks up the leaf shaped clip from the ground.

"They may yet be alive." The hope in Legolas' voice was contagious.

"Less than a day ahead of us, come!"

"Come Gimli! We are gaining on them." The elf grinned.

"I'm wasted on cross-country. We dwarves are natural sprinters. Very dangerous we are over short distances." Gimli rolled his eyes and Legolas laughed. Gilan smiled, noticing over the last few days the friendship that has been blossoming between the two. As they crossed the Rohan's borders Legolas ran up ahead while the half-elf, dwarf and human took a breather, hands on their knees, breathing deeply.

"Rohan, home of the horse-lords. There's something strange at work here. Some evil gives speed to these creatures. Sets its will against us. Legolas! What do your elf eyes see?" Aragorn asks him.

"The Uruks turn Northeast. They are taking the hobbits to Isengard!"

"Saruman." Gilan sighs and they start running once again.

"Keep breathing, that's the key! Breathe! Ho!"

"They run as if the very whips of their masters were behind them."

The sun settles and the four of them get some much needed rest. Gilan volunteers for the first watch, so he just listens to the soft snoring of his companions and the chirping of crickets. Two hours into his watch and he starts to hum a melody. It's hopeful and flows nicely, but there are no words that come to him as he tries to rhyme in his mind.

"That has a nice sound to it." Legolas speaks and Gilan jumps. The elf slides onto the ground next to him, obviously ready to take over the watch.

"I don't know. I can't come up with any words. Might have not found the right muse for this song yet." Gilan shrugs and Legolas lets out a quiet chuckle. "What?"

"Sometimes it's hard to remember you're a bard, I guess."

"Well, being a bard was a bit of a side hustle in the last couple of years to be honest."

"What else have you been doing then?"

"Gathering information for Gandalf. People's tongues are always looser with a tankard of mead and they feel like the blind bard could hardly be someone to worry about."

"That's an understatement. When I saw you deflect those arrows in Moria with your sword... I've never seen anything more graceful." Gilan felt heat creeping up to his cheeks and he turned away, hiding the smile stretching the corners of his mouth. They stayed quiet for a moment.

"What do you look like?" Gilan suddenly asked.

"Huh?"

"Could...well, could you describe yourself to me?" Legolas noticed Gilan's hands were tightly pressed into fists in his lap. And then he had an idea. He grabbed the other man's hands and lifted them to his face. Gilan opened his mouth in surprise, but when he felt the soft skin under his fingertips, his unseeing eyes softened. He traced from Legolas' chin up his jaw, his pointy ears, the braids behind them, along his hairline and down his cheeks to his lips. The bard's thumb brushed his bottom lip and then he pulled away, smiling.