𝑪𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑬𝑨 ¹ ↳ 𝒍. 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒖𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒐𝒏

xlii. the dead returns

"These are strange tracks," Aragorn states, glancing at the uncanny difference between the Hobbits' footsteps and the mark dented on the ground that he stares upon now.

"The air is so close in here!" Gimli utters, his tone dripping with the slightest of fear. Legolas shifts in discomfort, as if something else is bothering him as well. Vera didn't find it odd, knowing fully well that her own feä felt the strangeness of the forest. No doubt, an elf Legolas, whose father is akin with the trees, could feel it too.

"The forest is old. Very old. Full of memory...and anger," the elf claims, eyes wide and searching for something that the others cannot see. Vera relaxes at the presence of another strong feä, even reaching out to bond with Legolas' spirit in tenderness. She hadn't been able to feel his feä for a long time, finding that she couldn't exactly reach it completely but felt it nonetheless. It was like a buzzing fly, infuriating Vera's spirit and resulting in a desirable yearn. However, over recent days, she had managed to successfully touch his soul and him her but never completely grasping each other.

She supposed it happened when they shared their first kiss, perhaps unintentionally but it happened nonetheless. And Vera didn't exactly mind, finding comfort in the feel of his feä even it's the slightest of waves or sensations sent to her. She often wondered what would happen if his entire feä interacted with her own and unified together but the only way that matter would work is...something that Vera would rather not do.

The trees suddenly start to groan, reverberating throughout the forest: the trees are alive. Vera feels the same sensation run over her body, momentarily connecting eyes with Legolas as they both share a knowing frown, having felt the same waves of mixed emotion overcoming their senses. Gimli raises his axe from next to Vera who widens her eyes considerably, suddenly alert at the reckless swishing of her friend's axe that could definitely decapitate her if not for the movement of her head in an attempt to save herself, literally.

"The trees are speaking to each other," Legolas continues, unaware of the small problem Vera faces as she dodges any attempts made on her life while Gimli remained unaware of his movements, only moving his axe more to guard himself. Thankfully, Aragorn and Legolas simultaneously turn their heads to look at Gimli and Vera, noticing the way that the princess desperately moved away from the axe threatening to behead her and shooting her an amused, yet slightly confused, look before facing Gimli.

"Gimli!" Aragorn whisper-shouts. The Dwarf stares at the man in surprise. He, then, glances at Vera and smiles sheepishly at the exasperated girl, who only sighs in response. "Lower your weapon!" Aragorn continues, ordering the Dwarf lightly to follow his orders and keep the peace throughout the forest. Gimli acquiesces with his order, bashfully lowering his axe and recollecting himself to appear strong and manly, resulting in a giggle from the woman beside him.

"They have feelings, my friend," Legolas utters, his voice soft and beautiful to Vera's ears. "The elves began it. Waking up the trees, teaching them to speak," Legolas continues.

"Oh, yes, elves truly are a blessing!" Vera says, mostly sarcastic but at some point in her sentence, it became serious. Legolas gives her a half-hearted look, flashing her a playful scowl but sharing teasing looks at one another; one that isn't missed by the others.

"I'm sure you support that statement more than anything," Aragorn comments under his breath, sniggering lightly as a glare and a scowl identical to each other is sent his way simultaneously by the merry couple...thing.

"Talking trees?" echoes Gimli in disbelief and mocking. "What do trees have to talk about? Except the consistency of squirrel droppings," grumbles Gimli,

Vera makes her way through the forest steadily, keeping a watchful eye on her dress. She had been admittedly having trouble with keeping her attire clean, noting that she would probably need to keep it in better condition than the rest of her dresses; she did rely on the fact that she had other dresses before but stranded with nothing in her pouch other than half-eaten food and Corin's flask of alcohol, she had no choice but to take care of the bearings on her now.