The Unforgiven { Legolas x OC - LotR Fanfiction}

A sharp pang of Awkwardness!

3019, March 3

Translucent, rather transparent was the night. No sound, no cry just stillness. Next, Dawn sent shimmering rays over Edoras, and the light of it was in their eyes, turning all the rolling fields of Rohan to a golden haze. Ethir blinked towards the window, thinking of the sun that brought her a day she was never promised. Yet, the glowing brightness didn't emit the sun, rather from the dazzling silhouette that was standing a few steps away. She sprang from the bed with eyes black as well staring at the dark gray blue eyes of the glowing person.

"Na vedui! Menathab! (At last! Let us go!)" Legolas voiced as he was wearing his belts and weapons. "The others are ready to flee."

Ethir tilted her head as the transitory brightness slowly shaded and she could see the face of the blazing figure. It was the 'annoying' Elf. She exhaled acting normal as she gathered her stuff. Her words were lost in the moment. She could just stand there flowing into the hovering and solid gentle brightness. Her body trembled for a second. Her eyes didn't obey, and her mind was yelling to stop the state.

"Aphado nin!" (Come with me!) the dazzling elf spoke and broke only then the fixed gaze.

He had awoken earlier than Ethir. As a barely black aura grabbed his attention. The shimmering darkness of Ethir was back. The Elf felt drawn and dwelling into her. He had to bring his beseeching self away, as it was stronger than at other times. He knew that since the blackish aura was back, the 'wicked' girl would be fine and on her feet again.

Again she didn't reply only followed him outside. Everyone was in a hurry, gathering their belongings. Guards, Farmers, women, and children everyone anxious were ready to leave Edoras and reach Helm's Deep. She found Hengel, the horse that was given to her by Éomer. She secured her baggage, bow, and quiver against the horse's Saddle. She wore the blade and its case.

Legolas was petting Arod, speaking to him in elfish. Aragorn is next to them with Hasufel. And Gimli was given a pony. Soon the company of four, the King and the rest started the short journey.

Gimli was talking about the dwarf woman. There exist female dwarfs, but they are often thought of as dwarf men. He went on telling tales of his people. Èowyn, Théoden, and Aragorn laughed most of the time as the tales unique and funny. Legolas, with Háma, was walking ahead as he was checking the fields in the distance to make sure there was no threat. Ethir followed at the end of the trail to secure that path.

The sun went slowly down before them. Evening came behind. The host rode on. Need drove them. Fearing to come too late, they rode with all the speed they could. The night was close upon them. As they halted to make their camp. More than half their journey lay still before them. They lit no fires, only a few camping, fires, to make some stew.

Èowyn made some stew and she kindly started sharing it around. "Gimli! Please try some!" she kindly offered the dwarf a bowl. Then she went on until she gave Aragorn a bowl and spoon "I made some stew. It isn't much, but it's hot." she said.

"Thank you!" Answered Aragorn and took the bowl with the stew. He gave it a try only to find out that it tasted oddly. "It tastes good!" he said, trying to smile.

Èowyn smiled "Really!?" She was about to leave as Aragorn poured out the stew. Though she returned with questions.

"My Uncle told me a strange thing. He said that you rode to war with Thengel, my grandfather. But he must be mistaken." She asked, gazing at him.

"King Théoden has a good memory. He was only a small child at the time." Aragorn responded as he was still holding the bowl.

"Then you must be at least sixty?" she gazed at him as Aragorn moved his head side to side "Seventy? But you cannot be eighty!"