A Tale of Time

Chapter 12: The Hair of Elves

Again, there are another few moments of silence but the light-haired Elf laughs suddenly. "I like you. You've got spirit and a sharp tongue."

Both Elves seem satisfied with the ending of the conversation as Gailien has no response to his remark. They don't travel much further before the sound of Dwarfish outrage reaches her ears. It becomes louder as they lead her into a clearing. They were so close to her all this time.

There are twenty or so Elves, their bows taut, all aiming at the same thing. The company. Her eyes close in relief as their own turn to her as the three Elves approach the leader of the hunting party. Thorin's mouth opens as Gailien is brought in front of him. Kili begins to call out her name, but Fili elbows his side, giving his brother a pointed look. They do not know what the Elves know about her yet.

Gailien passes the company, sending them the smallest of smiles but her stomach drops as she comes face to face with the leader. Legolas' squinted expression loosens. Before her two captors can address the Prince, Legolas speaks first.

"Gailien," he mumbles.

Although it should not be a surprise to some, a few of the members begin murmuring amongst themselves. Thorin's eyes darken at the blonde Elf. Gailien manages a small bland smile. "Legolas. It has been quite some time." Her captor's grip loosens slightly, obviously not foretelling that this was a possible interaction.

"I thought you dead," Legolas states.

"No. Just wandering Middle Earth." She tilts her head as though in a casual conversation about the weather. "I see you've had the pleasure of meeting my friends."

"The Dwarves? Why do you travel with them?"

"Why do you think?"

Legolas is conflicted, a fact obvious to anybody who watches his expression closely enough. She had disappeared one day without a trace and then they found her brother's dead body they believed she had succumbed to the same fate. Gailien doesn't want to speak the way she does to him right now. No, she would much rather embrace him and ask for forgiveness for leaving him without a single word of goodbye. But she is no longer a friend of Mirkwood, and in turn, its prince.

The company almost shifts their heads between the two Elves as they speak in the foreign tongue to each other, having no idea of what is being said (except Kili who picks up on a few phrases).

"You have not changed," he says eventually. "But at the same time, you have."

"I have four hundred years of life to thank for that. Though I must thank you for teaching me how to use a weapon. I fear that I would not have made it this far without you."

"You still do not carry a bow." There is a twinkle of mirth in his eye as the frown on his face slowly ebbs away.

She shrugs lazily, hiding her tire. "Too cumbersome."

"You find a bow cumbersome, but not the company of Dwarves?" he asks, switching back to Common Tongue, intending for the Dwarves to hear his insult. "You could return home. But not if you place yourself amongst them."

"I'd prefer them over the Elves any day of my life. And I would gladly give it for them, so do not test my loyalty." She scans the clearing, giving each Elf in her sight a dark glare.

The Dwarves barely hold their proud smirks. Even Fili cocks an eyebrow at the Elf closest to him. Thorin holds a small smirk, keeping his gaze on Legolas whose once mirthful stature drops back to its original snarl.

Legolas strides forward with a burning glare, but his eyes catch the glint of metal in her hair and his expression morphs. He reaches out towards it, but Gailien pulls her head away. He glares at her once more, his hand moving fast than her head and he grasps the back of her head where the hair is tied.