Prophet (a LOTR fanfic)

Southward

"What the hell are you doing, scaring me out of my skin like that?!" I shouted, turning on Legolas.

"My apologies. I am often told I have a light tread." I sighed, my gaze raking over the ground, searching for my fallen cargo.

"Damn it! you made me drop the sticks." I sighed, frustrated.

"You do not carry a bow." I raised my eyebrows at him. He seriously wanted to talk weaponry?

"No, should I? and what are you doing out here anyway?"

"Patrolling. Can you shoot?" He pulled his bow off his back, handing it to me, along with a slender arrow. Quicker than I thought possible, I jumped away and nocked the arrow, pulling back on the string and aiming right between his eyes.

It was a staring match, green eyes against blue. The string was pulled back all the way to my chin, the flights tickling my nose. Legolas stood rigidly, searching my eyes for any ill-purpose. As I stared down the arrow and back at him, my expression remained the same; that of a warrior, one who does not fear death. My mind was blank, focused on my target. Without taking my eyes from his, I shifted my aim, and released.

The string rebounded with a twang, and the arrow that once been aimed to kill now flew past his ear, embedding itself in a tree behind him. I carefully kneeled down, placing the bow beside me and collecting as many sticks as I could before standing up, giving a mock bow, and striding off, back towards the camp.

I left Legolas in the dark of the trees, bewildered and alone with his thoughts.

.....................................

We were travelling again, but slowly I noticed the terrain grew steeper, rockier and mountainous. When we stopped at midday, Sam rushed around, cooking a little meal for us while Boromir took Merry and Pippin down to a lower platform in the rocks to practice sparring with them. The rest of us watched as the hobbits took turns trading blows with Boromir. I sat down next to Aragorn, taking out my sword and using a corner of my cloak to polish the blade. Lovingly, I examined every inch of the metal for scratches or dents.

"You carry a fine blade."

"You expected something different?" I asked Aragorn, looking up, then past him to where Legolas stood, staring at the two of us. "A fine blade for a fine fighter."

"I was simply wondering where you acquired such a weapon."

"It was a gift," I said. It was easier than explaining the whole woke-up-with-it and not-actually-from-middle-earth concept, though he probably knew some of that already, seeing as he did sort of rescue me in Bree.

"Well it was a gracious gift indeed." I nodded and again focused my full attention on my sword. I looked up again only when I heard a shout from Pippin, and saw both hobbits beating on Boromir. Aragorn got up and tried to pull them apart, but he got caught in the crossfire of the hobbits' revenge too.

I doubled over with laughter at the sight of the two seasoned warriors being bested by two hobbits.

"What is that?" Sam asked, and my head whipped around, searching for the source of Sam's concern.

"Nothing," Gimli said, "Just a wisp of cloud." He waved his hand dismissively and went back to smoking his pipe.

"It's moving fast, and against the wind."

My eyes widened. I didn't need to hear Legolas' confirmation; it was Saruman's spies. I dropped my sword, grabbing Aragorn and pushing him into a crevasse between the rocks, throwing some packs I had grabbed from nearby after him. I was about to take cover when I remembered.

My sword! I had dropped it when I had grabbed Aragorn, and I couldn't leave it out in the open like that! I turned back to make a grab for it, but I never even took a step to retrieve my blade.

A hand shot out and grabbed my arm, pulling me under a nearby bush. I rolled, facing my attacker, only to find Legolas. My eyes widened and I stared into his. Of course he saved me. If saved was even the right term for this situation.

"Wh-" Legolas hurriedly covered my mouth, silencing me. He pointed up through the branches of the bush and I looked, only to find a murder or crows was flying above us, circling over our camping site. I pushed Legolas away and turned, looking for my fallen sword. It was right there! I could practically reach it- Legolas grabbed my arm again, silently warning me not to try anything. I shrugged him off and watched as the crows circled, once, twice- It seemed like forever. Finally they flew off, and I leapt from under the bush, rushing for my blade.

"Oh no!"

"What happened?" Legolas rushed over, kneeling beside me.

"She got a scratch." I said, pointing to the new scar marring the metal. I frowned and looked mournfully at the sword. "Poor thing." Legolas' face wrinkled in confusion.

"You were worried about your sword?"

"Well, yes actually. Didn't want my pride and joy kidnapped by those nasty crows." I sighed, hugging the sword to my chest and planting a kiss on the scratched metal. "My poor Iariel."

"Blood daughter?"

"Yes, the poor thing." I crooned, giving it one last kiss before carefully sheathing my sword.

"We must make for the pass of Caradhras!" Gandalf said, gesturing to the mountain looming over us. I groaned. Snow, avalanche and near death, here we come.