The Shadow Walker

50. Awkward Silences

The Lord and Lady of Lothlòrien seated themselves once the rest of us were situated. Lord Celeborn began talking with Aragorn about battle strategies and the best armory and whatnot, but Lady Galadriel-what she did scared me.

She did nothing.

She sat primly at her plate, not even serving herself a bite, and stared at Frodo. Frodo, in turn, took small bites, glancing at her for brief moments before looking away once more. Then, he gave a weary smile at his plate. Simultaneously, Galadriel masked a smile of her own. And her gaze turned to Samwise. Samwise blushed bright red, and he stared dutifully at his plate.

And that's when it clicked. She was talking to them-in their minds. Panicked, I caught Legolas's eye, and he nodded subtly.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Why was this so scary for me? I'd faced death on more than one occasion, and while I'd been a little shaky afterwards, I'd never gotten this rattled.

But, back then, I'd always been alone. I'd denied the throne of Erebor and chosen the life of a mercenary. I'd had nothing to lose but a life I despised. Now, I had the Fellowship. Nine-no, eight, I corrected myself with a wince-other people that truly cared about me. Eight people that would be directly affected by whatever befell me today.

A moment later, Lord Celeborn's conversation with Aragorn petered out, and Lady Galadriel turned her stare onto my friend of old. He met her gaze bravely, but lines of concern etched into his expression.

Their silent conversation lasted a bit longer than the ones before, and beside me, Boromir began to shift uncomfortably in his seat. Doubtless waiting his turn to be cross-examined, as I was. I reached across myself with my left hand to touch his arm comfortingly. He startled at our contact, then glanced at my hand. I motioned that he could hold it, and to my surprise, he accepted.

Holding Boromir's hand was not like holding Legolas's. Boromir gripped my hand as though it were a lifeline, the power in his hold testing the strength of even my bones. But despite the pain, I wouldn't deny him the gesture if it brought him comfort.

I felt Legolas's eyes drilling into the side of my head, so I met his gaze. His expression was disapproving, but the intensity in his expression didn't demand I pull away. Still...it was odd. Why would it bother him for me to give comfort to Boromir?

That trail of thought ended when Boromir's body went rigid. Slowly, he looked up at Lady Galadriel, then he began to tremble.

That scared me. If a full-grown Man and a trained warrior was shaking like a leaf from mere words within his mind, I wanted nothing to do with whatever this Lady had to say to me.

"You comfort him."

I jumped at the sudden sound of Galadriel's voice. But, judging by the stoic expressions from everyone else, only I could hear her. Except Legolas. He'd noticed my reaction, and was watching me with a concerned expression.

"Of course I comfort Boromir," I snapped internally. "He's frightened."

"He has seen the true depths of his own heart," Galadriel replied. "He is right to be afraid."

There was an awkward silence in our "conversation". In fact, awkward silence had settled over the entire table. And I found it remarkably difficult to not think about the things I didn't want Galadriel to know about. To occupy my mind, I studied the one thing I found remotely interesting.

Legolas.

His hair had apparently been washed since last night, and was now combed out and hanging down midway between his shoulders and elbows. The silver tunic he wore drew attention to the gold in his hair, and electric blue of his eyes. His dark eyebrows quirked up in amused curiosity at my open stare, but I didn't look away. I didn't dare.