"You need to know something," said Fili, taking her face in his large warm hands. "You will always have me. Even if the Valar take you away tomorrow, I will always be your brother. I want you. I'm going to fight Thorin for you, but even if I lose, y...
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In which Sara comes to the defense, and maybe elves aren't all that bad.
Sara's toes were peeking out of the end of her boots by the time Blondie called a halt to the day's march, at least what was left of her boots anyway. She sighed bent to remove the forlorn footwear. The treads were almost completely worn away and the leather was faded and cracked from the exposure to sun, rain, and dirt. She was on the fourth pair of leather ties Bifur had cut for her to replace the shoelaces that had snapped months ago. She massaged her foot, groaning as she bumped a blister that was beginning to form on the outside of her little toe.
"Are you quite well?" asked Bilbo as he came to sit next to her on the ground under the watchful eyes of the elves. The rest of the company were led by the Elf Brothers, Crooked Jaw, and Ribbon Boy and forced to sit along the edge of the square pad. Apparently, even the elves used the pads along the trail for campsites.
"Yeah, just a few blisters," she said, watching with interest as the Elf Brothers disappeared into the forest and Crooked Jaw set about preparing a fire, leaving Ribbon Boy to stand guard over the dwarves. Bofur was whispering to some of the others and Sara wondered if they were planning some form of escape, but the snickers a few seconds later persuaded her otherwise. They were probably poking fun at their elf guards, and judging by the irritated look on Ribbon Boy's face, he suspected as much as well. Tauriel and Blondie had taken the stag and hung it from a low branch in a tree till the fire could be made, but at a command from Blondie, Tauriel came to stand near her and Bilbo.
"Are you in charge of guarding us?" asked Sara after a few moments silence.
"Babysit might be a more appropriate term," said the elf, not looking at her but instead watching the dwarves. "You hardly pose a threat, especially without weapons."
"We're not completely helpless," said Sara, pulling on a boot a bit more forcefully then she had intended. She was rewarded with a rip. Her toes were now sticking entirely out of the front of her boot.
"Be that as it may, Legolas has assigned me to watch after you." Sara's head snapped up.
"Legolas? Like as in, Legolas Greenleaf, the prince of Mirkwood Legolas?"
"What other Legolas is there?" said Tauriel, amused.
"So just to be clear," asked Sara, her mind reeling. "Blondie over there is Legolas." She pointed to where he stood examining the blade of Orcrist, turning it this way and that to catch the light.
"I would not let him hear you call him that, he may not appreciate it, but yes, you are correct," confirmed Tauriel.
Sara left off tying her shoes as her thoughts raced. She hadn't thought to meet anyone other than Gandalf from The Fellowship of the Ring. The hobbits she knew were not born yet, and neither was Boromir. Aragorn was numenorean and lived a longer life, so he could be alive, but Sara did not remember anything from the books about his earlier years. Gimly was of course alive, but still too young to join in this quest let alone the fellowship. That left only Legolas the elf prince who was undoubtedly old enough to have been alive a couple millennia, but she had hardly expected to see him. She studied him trying to imagine the elf who would someday become best friends with Gimly. If she really thought about it, it made sense. They were, after all, being taken to see the King of Mirkwood, and it was only natural that Legolas, the Prince of Mirkwood, would be closed by. Drat the hobbit book and its limited information. She would not have even known King Thranduil's name if it weren't for the dwarves. A thought struck her and she froze. There was no way that Legolas was not going to be wrapped up in the upcoming battle, one way or another. Neither he nor his father could be allowed to die. Legolas for obvious reasons, but if Thranduil were to die, Legolas would become King of Mirkwood. If that happened Legolas would most certainly not be joining the fellowship. She groaned internally. Her list of people to watch out for was growing. It was a bit ironic, she thought, that she would be the one looking out for Legolas, even if he didn't know it. She shook her head and resumed tying her boot laces but unintentionally pulled them too tight. The leather cord snapped and she cursed softly.
