"Where is Théodred? Where is my son?"
The hunters were sent to rooms they could stay in for the time being while king Théoden had to come to terms with the passing of his son and plan his funeral.
When y/n entered the small chamber, she realized that for the first time since she came to Middleearth she was alone for longer than just changing clothes or going to sleep. A deep sigh left her lips as she trudged over to the bed and let her body fall on it. Sadly, that wasnt the good idea she thought it would be as her sword, which was returned to her unscathed, poked into her still injured ribs. She gasped out in pain and sat up again, a frown now on her face.
Curious since she had not yet seen her wounds, as there had not been the time for that, she took of her clothing and stood before a small mirror mounted to the wall. There was a large bruise that started under her chest over her ribs and lead all the way to her back. She turned so she could try to see it but it was too large and she could not twist her head enough to see all of it. All she knew was that her skin was blue and green, black at some points. Other than that, there werent any scratches on her skin, most likely due to Aragorns healing and not her own recovery.
Another sigh left her lips as she let her fingers glide over the lumpy skin. She was lucky she was alive, when she fell unconscious, anyone could have easily stabbed her. Her gaze went lower to her pistol. Why did it have to jam in that moment? Was it just a cruel coincidence or had it something to do with this realm? She had never really liked guns in the first place but the thought of it being broken still upset her. She took the weapon from its holster. It was heavy in her hand and felt so familiar, yet strange. With experienced fingers she took the gun apart to see if all was in order. At first, she saw nothing but then she noticed a small rock lodged in-between the small space near the trigger. With her nails she wedged it out and stared at the pebble with hatred in her eyes. This tiny thing was the reason Boromir was dead. This stone had killed her friend. She clutched it tightly in her fist and returned the gun to its place at her belt.
Then she turned her gaze back to the mirror to distract herself.
She looked tired and pale but her hair laid surprisingly neat. She touched a piece of sea glass that was still braided into her hair and twisted it around her finger. What was she to do? What could she do? For days her mind had been running with the same thought and questions over and over again.
Did Legolas truly feel for her? Love her? What should she do about it, if anything?
The words of lady Galadriel plagued her as well. She felt bothered by all these worries. Usually, she would get drunk until the issue was no longer there instead of dealing with it but now that wasnt an option anymore so she did not know what to do. And then there was the added shame of having been injured and unable to travel without getting carried. She felt wounded in her pride. The reasonable part of her knew that no one here meant to insult by helping but that did not change that she had to accept her own weakness to fully accept them.
But she wasnt weak! She had been through too much to be. the world was cruel to a woman. Never had she been taken seriously before she proved to others that she wasnt weak. Before anyone ever joined her crew, she had to beat them in a fight so they would not mutiny against her before they even left port. And before she could travel with anyone she had to deal with superstitious and condescending sailors asking her what she could possibly want at sea. If she did show fault like she sadly had in the past it always turned her life worse. She had shown empathy and was branded a criminal, she trusted her crew and was mutinied upon. She helped a beggar and was robbed; she spared a child and was arrested. She wanted to protect who couldnt do so themself and her friend died. The scars that littered her skin each telling a tale on how she failed.
Her body littered with bruises, littered with failure.
She was no hero. She had come to accept that long ago. She was a criminal that occasionally did good but mostly she tried not to care, to not get involved. Shed rather be in a drunken stupor than deal with feelings. And how she wished she could do so once more, but she couldnt. She had no access to alcohol and the thought of losing herself like she craved to, in front of her friends made her feel embarrassed. That was a sign of weakness as well, wasnt it? Drinking because she couldnt deal with her own thoughts. Not drinking because she didnt want to deal with the thoughts of others?
Y/n massaged her brow and moved away from the mirror getting sick of her own reflection. She sat on the bed once more but didnt stay long as she heard a knock on her door.
"Who is it?" she called and a Chambermaid answered, asking her if she would like a bath. The woman gladly accepted. After getting clean, food was brought to her room and soon it was late and she was ready to fall asleep as there sounded another knock on her door. She was in a white nightgown which made her feel very out of her element as it was such a light and pure type of clothing. It felt like a thing Elizabeth or one of her sea-port floozies would wear, but not y/n.
"Just a moment!" she yelled and quickly pulled over her leather coat, closing it partially as well as slipping on her boots as the stone floor was cold, before she rushed to the door. Opening it she looked into the familiar face of Legolas. He too seemed rather relaxed though worry hid in his blue eyes. For just a second his blue orbs went down to take in her strange appearance but it was so quick that she never noticed.
"May I come in?" asked the elf and y/n nodded stepping aside. Unsure of what to do next she remained silent and standing at the door while the elf walked in and stood near her bed. There werent many opportunities to stand or sit in the room because of its size. Y/n walked over to the mirror once more and let fingers glide over her hair, pretending to brush it but mostly just looking for something to do.
"What is it you need?" she asked watching him through the refection of her mirror.
"A battle will soon be upon us. I wish to know how your wounds are." he said and y/n scoffed.
" 'M fine, I told you." she said sounding annoyed but within seconds the elf stood next to her.
"Please do not lie to me. I sense your pain. I should ask Gandalf to heal you completely." Y/n would have liked to give a snappy response but the worry in the elves eyes made her swallow her words.
"We can do so tomorrow." she caved in and Legolas nodded satisfied, though not completely. As y/n tried to turn her head away from him he laid his hand on her cheek.
"I heard your talk with Aragorn." said Legolas suddenly and y/n cheeks went up in flames.
"I did not mean to drop eave yet I could not help it." The pirate pressed her lips together and again tried to turn away but the elves hand did not budge.
"I dont think that you are weak y/n. I only wish you to be safe. I know youre not in need of my help but with me it will be easier. Please do not push me away." pleaded the elf one hand on her cheek the other cradling her own pulling it close to his chest.
Her breath hitched in her throat. She fumbled with her words for a bit before a sentence finally left her lips.
"I am not mad that you wish to help me. Im mad that I needed the help in such a manner. Im so far from what I know and what Im good at, I feel like a child having to learn everything from the beginning. If I hadnt met you that day, I do not know what would have happened to me." Cautiously she looked up at the elf though to her surprise found no judgement in his face, only compassion.
"I dont like feeling this way. I dont like having no control at all, but I dont know how to stop either." Legolas smiled gently.
"There is no need to stop your feelings. There have been many perils in your way yet youve always overcome them and proved your strength."
Unable to look at him any further she let her head fall forward and onto his chest as a shaky sigh left her lips.
"Youre too kind." she whispered as the elf moved his hands to gently glide through her hair.
"There is no such thing."
Then the two stayed quiet as y/n reveled in the elves warmth and he enjoyed her closeness and the texture of her hair.
But as much as y/n was enjoying herself, deep down she still wasnt satisfied. She didnt know what was wrong so she just stayed quiet and hoped that her problems would disappear just like they always have.
"Y/n." started Legolas suddenly and the woman looked up expectantly. They looked into each others eyes as the elf tried to form a sentence.
"I wish to tell you something." Y/n raised a brow.
"I-Erm." He stuttered before sighing.
"Good night, Meleth-nin." He said and rested his chin on her head.
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Yayy, cliché trying to confess but not having the guts to do so! Yayyyyy.
Also sorry for late update, I was super stressed this week.
~1755 words