𝕰𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖆

Chapter Thirteen: Tharbad

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The sun had long since disappeared from the sky by the time we'd reached the ruins a few days later, and set up camp. The dim glow of our makeshift fire flickered against the archaic stone walls, casting shadows over its edges and delves. We'd situated ourselves inside a crumbling archway, the walls having held to, but the top had been worn away. Legolas sat on the opposite side of the fire, arm stretched out over his bent knee, eyes focused on me. The flames lit up his pale skin, giving it a warm glow, and creating sharp shadows over his face. I sat against the other side of the stone arch, an arm wrapped around my aching rib cage.

"You probably broke some," he said pointedly, "Your ribs, I mean."

"Thank you, elf-boy, for that eye-opening observation." I chuckled, flinching as a jolt of pain shot through my ribs.

"Ah, the lengths to which you would go for a witty comment, princess," he mused, and I shrugged, a gesture that I quickly regretted as another wave of pain washed over me.

"Can't help myself," I replied absently, my gaze lost in the flames.

I couldn't keep my mind off of the others for more than a moment. The thought of them, trapped in Moria with a goblin army, ate away at my insides. Sensing my discomfort, Legolas spoke.

"I'm not typically known for my optimism, but they'll be okay, Elena. I'm sure they will," he said.

"And if they're not? It will be my hands covered in their blood," I shot back, almost instantly regretting my sharp tone.

It wasn't his fault. It was mine. I'd separated us. And now the others would pay for it.

"Sam would've died, you know. Had you not done what you did," he said after a brief lull.

"He may die yet,"

"And yet, he may not," Legolas retorted before taking in a sharp breath, "It was my arrow that played the creature's hand. My fault we've been separated."

"It wasn't," I said in response, leaving it at that.

I let my gaze drift away from the dancing flames, and it trailed instead over the distant horizon, where the rolling fields, shrouded in the black of night, disappeared from view. My eyes followed the hazy line where sky met earth, until my head was oriented southward. Towards my home. I wondered how they were fairing. What had happened when I'd left? What was happening now? With the war? My family?

"Míriel Canas," Legolas said, snapping my attention back into focus, "You miss it."

"Of course," I nodded softly, "I miss my family. The sea. The Pines."

"I loved the forest as a boy," he smiled in reminiscence.

"I wouldn't expect any less from Prince of the Woodland Realm."

"Again with the witty comments," he shook his head, smiling lightheartedly.

I shrugged, "I understand, though. About the woods, I mean. When you stand under the leaves of the trees, they're like this huge canvas, protecting you from the dangers and qualms of the outside world, while all at once, concealing their own store of adventure."

Legolas looked at me for a moment, eyes searching mine, and lips parted slightly as though he were about to speak. But he didn't. At least, not until a few moments had passed.

"You never struck me as the type to take cover from the outside world," he said, "To fear the dangers and qualms."

"Then I suppose I must do a good job at hiding it," I replied, "I feel that fear is all that consumes my mind. Especially lately. Constant fear."