There is a moment in the life of any individual, of any nation or race, when he is able to see before his eyes every moment he had lived. It happens when we feel so vulnerable that we think we will die. But when that moment arrives, what happens afterwards is unique.
Cold and still there was fire all around. Full silence and yet, if you were careful, you could hear the sound of whispers. It was dark and still you could see everything. It was in an empty space, so large and big that it was impossible to figure out where it started and where it ended. The ground was damp, or at least the portion where she stood. She could barely move or talk, she felt as though her whole body was paralyzed but she was aware that it was not a dream, yet not reality either. She was thirsty, hungry, she had so much to say, and she would have liked to tell it all to someone. At the same time she felt that if she spoke, then it all really happened. That hurt the most. But she did not regret, nothing worth regretting in life, and if she were to return in time she would do the same mistakes and would confide in the same people.
"You have come so far, but you cannot go all the way. I have decided that it is best for you to return to Arda. Life is not over yet, at least not for you, not for now." A man said, his tone soft at the beginning yet audibly growing authoritarian.
"It will not change anything. Old habits die hard." She said with a trembling voice.
"I have other plans for you." The man said loudly, his voice echoing all around her poor form.
"The decision will always be with me." She commented, chuckling under her breath.
He did not respond but instead he bent on his knees and covered her eyes with his hands. The scream that followed was spine-chilling. It felt like millions of needles were piercing through her head. Returning to life hurt much more than dying.
A man was running from tree to tree, searching frantically for something although his face wouldn't hint he was in any type of distress. But he was tense and held his bow tightly in his hand, ready to make use of it if the case arose. It wasn't exactly his line of work to go around without a clear aim. He was a fine a warrior, one of the best archers in his king's army. He fought many battles, some more gruesome and long-lived than others and yet he couldn't keep a child entertained for more than five minutes. He sighed in desperation but did not lose his calm juat yet. Although he loved the prince, he would have preferred to do something of more benefit to the kingdom. His king trusted (or maybe punished) him with the safety of his son for the whole afternoon and yet he lost him.
"I can't believe this is happening," he mumbled to himself growing more alarmed as he realized he was getting closer to the western borders.
On the other hand, prince Legolas seemed to be greatly amused by his new guard. It was always the same: while inside the Halls he had a majority of elleths in his palm but whenever he was oit and about in the forest he needed warriors, usually archers, to babysit him.
"If only they'd be able to keep up..." Legolas said bemused by how easy he could escape every single time.
He knew where he was, he didn't want to stray far from home so he mostly followed the elven path so he wouldn't get completely lost.
"Why do they act like I'm still a child, I'll be of age very soon..." complained the blond elf.
If his looks were fare as a teenager's after puberty, which would be around 17 or 18 years in a human's cycle, Legolas was actually 50 years old and still hoping to get taller. He was the prince and he loved his position but it felt like there was no genuine feedback. He knew he wasn't good at everything nor was he the nicest elfling but very few would tell him that up front.
Ending up taking a stroll instead of hiding, he ventured to the end of the path. He looked around for a bit before the trees started to hum to each other. Legolas listened and ended up following their lead. He went from tree to tree until he came upon a body lying on the grass.
"Hullo! Are you alright?”
His grey eyes widened when he saw her bloody chest. She seemed to be dead. Curiosity took over him as he scooped closer and took a long look at the woman. First of all, she was covered in dirt and blood, some not hers from the color of it and it seemed like she had been out there for a while before he found her. There were signs that bad weather had ravaged her and yet not one creature approached her. Another detail that surprised the young elf was how even with her eyes closed, she looked like she was in terrible pain. His eyes moved downwards to her clothing which was odd to his eyes: she had dark tights under what looked like a man’s tunic that came down to her knees. It looked like it had been modified here and there in order to fit her. Wrapped tightly around her waist was a leather belt where she had a sword once but now it was empty. The tunic was worn out and there were many holes with blood gushing out from wounds that he couldn’t see clearly. Going further down, he noticed the worst wound made by an arrow that was still very much stuck in her side.
Oddly enough, there was something on her wrist. It was nothing familiar and yet he could understand it was not good. Drawn in by the mystery, the elfling bent forward, immersed into the secrecy behind it. At that moment, her hand jolted, scaring him to death.
“Prince Legolas!”
The boy looked up at the archer before he glanced back at the woman. He waited for him to approach enough to notice her too. The head of the guards, an imposing elf with broad shoulders and a stiff face ran to his prince, worry in his brown eyes even though his face was blank.
“You have to stop running, my prince. I could not find you for several hours and was deeply worried for your safety.”
“Dorondir, this woman is deadly wounded.” Legolas said, not at all listening to his guard.
Dorondir looked at the woman lain on the ground thoughtfully but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't find any sign that she was alive.
“We have to help her. She’s fallen in our land.” Legolas added, hoping that was enough to make him take action.
The guard sighed but couldn’t really deny his prince’s wish.
“Very well. But it may be too late."
"I saw her flinch. Her hand almost hit me!" Legolas explained watching Dorondir scoop her in his arms as if she was a sack.
"It could have been just a muscle contraction." Dorondir said not content at all with how his day turned up to be.
"Be careful, she'll feel if you mistreat her. As the prince, I need to take care of any victims fallen into my land."
Dorondir did not reply and not because Legolas held power over him but because the elfling was incredibly stubborn.
On the way back to the Halls, Legolas kept watch over the woman, just in case she’d wake up and he could prove he did not imagine her move. But nothing really happened and Dorondir believed more than before that he was carrying a corpse.
“What do you mean my son brought in a stranger?”
The Elvenking was busy enough thinking about his trades with the people of Esgaroth. The list of guests turned out to be longer than he wanted so there was a need of more supplies for the banquet in his son’s name. After all, he was finally coming of age and a big celebration was in order.
“My king, we are afraid that the woman brought in has already died. She was struck by a poisoned arrow.”
“Goblins? Orcs?” the king asked, far more troubled by the creatures that hurt her rather than the state of the victim. “Have they come so far from their wretched hole under the mountains?”
“We haven’t encountered any in our patrol. She might have walked several miles before she collapsed on the path.” Dorondir explained, now worried that he might have to patrol double since this woman walked into the land with nobody having any idea from where or how. “We’ll strengthen the borders and have guards at every important position.”
Thranduil didn’t sketch a single movement but it was obvious he was annoyed with the news.
"Where did you place this corpse?" Thranduil asked thinking how he did not want it to ruin the festivities with her rotten smell.
"My lord, the prince insisted she should be tended in Gweluven's healing rooms. She is there right now."
Once the healer was called upon, they literally had to force the prince out.
Seeing no sign that she was breathing, the elves of the woods did what was in their power to tend to her wounds. Several times they checked to see if they could find any sign that she was alive, just as Legolas implied, but nothing happened for hours. It was already dawn when they left for more important stuff.
Behind closed doors and in complete silence, under no lights because the room had no windows, her eyes opened wide and she took a long and loud breath in.
ns 15.158.11.143da2
