When The Trees Sang: Part I
by Nicole
-----
The sun rose slowly over the tops of the mountains, waking Aragorn
from his first peaceful sleep in ages. He opened his eyes and
breathed in deep, a feeling of weightlessness running over his body.
As he gazed up at the leaves on the trees high above them, it felt
as though a great weight had been lifted off of him and cast off
into the wind, never to return. He glanced around at his sleeping
comrades, smiling to himself. Throughout the long, hard journey,
they had never faltered, never failed, and had always been ready to
defend him at any call. He had developed a strong feeling of
closeness to them over the past few weeks, and now loved them as
much as he would his own brothers. Which was much what they were. A
stirring to his right moved him from his thoughts and he glanced
over to the source of the movement.
Legolas picked himself up off the forest floor, sighing happily.
Never before had he felt such a feeling of contentment as he did
right then. When the ring had been cast into the fires the night
before, and he saw the flames engulf it, the great heaviness that
had been clinging to him for the entire journey fell away, leaving
him with a feeling of relief. He saw that Aragorn was awake, and
walked over to greet him good morning.
"Legolas, you're up I see."
"Yes, how could one manage to sleep in on such a morning as this?"
Aragorn glanced over at the sleeping hobbits and the dwarf lying by
their side.
"I believe some find it not difficult at all."
A chuckle came from Legolas' throat, which quickly disturbed his
friends sleeping peacefully at their feet. Frodo rolled over and
looked at them sleepily, followed by the rest of the halflings.
Gimli jumped at the noise, raising his ax from the ground in
readiness. Legolas smiled at his friend.
"Calm yourself, dwarf. There are no orcs here this morning. As will
there never be again, if one can only hope."
The dwarf looked around him warily before lowering the ax to his
side.
"One can never be to careful in times like these," he grumbled out.
Pippin sat on the ground beneath a large tree, yawning loudly.
"So, when's breakfast?"
Aragorn looked at him, slightly annoyed.
"Is that all you halflings ever think about? When the next meal is
going to come?"
"But of course. What is there in all of Middle Earth that is more
important than a nice warm meal in the morning?"
Aragorn smiled kindly at the hobbit, knowing all too well the eating
habits of these small creatures.
"Well, breakfast you shall have. Warm, is another thing all
together."
Legolas picked up his bow and quiver, slinging them onto his back
with ease.
"Shall we hunt for food, or just gather berries and fruit?"
"I think it would be wise to have a light breakfast this morning,
before setting out on such a long journey. We wouldn't want our
stomachs to be too full to walk," roared Gimli, brandishing his ax
as he walked.
The hobbits sat in a row beneath the tree, joining Pippin.
"We don't care what we eat, just so long as it's food."
Legolas smiled.
"Well, I think we can take care of that."
He suddenly stood straight upright, as if sensing something in the
air. He scanned the woods surrounding them, as if sensing some
unknown danger. Aragorn noticed this, and walked over to him, trying
to see with his own eyes what it could be. The only thing within
viewing distance to him were trees, so he gave up, his sight no
match to the Elf's. Legolas eased up a bit, and looked back at the
group.
"I fear something is near. I can sense it, though I cannot see it,
or even hear it. But something stirs in the air, and it's close."
The rest stood up, as if to prepare themselves for some suprise
attack, but for the moment none came. Aragorn sighed and began to
gather their things.
"Legolas, I fear these senses of yours are too heightened even for
your own good."
He glanced back at the man, hard-faced and serious.
"Aragorn, I do not know what it is that is lurking in these trees,
but they sing to me of danger. Some kind of evil that I can not
name. I fear we are not safe here. We must move on."
Knowing that the Elf was rarely wrong, they gathered their things
and set out once again on the path that would lead them towards
home, while keeping in the back of their mind the sense that each
one of them had that something evil drew near.
---
As they walked, Legolas' mind wandered to his home, Mirkwood, and
the ones that he had left behind there. The first one that came to
mind was Garenia, his wife. Although they had been married for
nearly 1,500 years, the love that he had for her still remained
strong. She was considered the most beautiful of her kind; long
hair, not blonde like the rest of the Elves, but instead more of a
rainbow of colors, full of golds, auburns, and light shades of
brown, that glimmered in the sunlight, and made her look like a
diamond in the light of the moon. While she still retained the aura
of an Elf, her stature did not show it. While most of the other
Elves were tall, and thin, she was several inches shorter than
himself, with vuluptuous curves, and a graceful demeanor. Her eyes
were the color green of the rare trees that grew in Lothlorian, and
her skin was like that of soft porcelein, pale and creamy without a
flaw to place. She had the manner of royalty, and that she was. Her
grandmother was Galadriel, Lady of the Wood, and she had been raised
by her for much of her life. The Lady was hesitant in letting her
go, but knew that she would find no happiness in remaining there
without Legolas by her side. She wore the title of princess as a
jeweled crown, never letting herself faulter in the face of duty,
and never allowing herself to put the pains of her own heart before
that of her people. He loved her most for this devotion, as well as
for the inner beauty that radiated from within her. He thought for
sure that she would follow him when the Fellowship called for his
assistance, but instead she had remained, refusing to allow herself
to sway beneath the pain of his leaving. The day the Fellowship had
left Rivendell, she had been there, standing at the gates to the
kingdom, watching them as they went. He thought for sure he would
break before she even got the notion to do so. It was for this will
that he admired her the most. It was for her that he had fought so
hard during those long battles that had occured so often the past
few months. Even though he knew that she could produce him no heir,
her body not allowing her to do so, he married her, refusing to take
another in spite of her inability. Although she had never been good
at battle, she fought with him until end in every war he had raged
since the beginning of their journey, staying in his heart through
every draw of his bow. He counted the days until he would see her
again.
Aragorn watched the Elf from behind, knowing where his thoughts had
drifted. All these long days of travelling, he had often spoken of
her, with so much love in his tone as one could not imagine. He knew
where his heart was, as his was held the same way by Arwen. At that
moment, the only thought that could cross his mind was that of when
he would be beside her once again.
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