It is six nights later that the elf sneaks out to follow the wild kudu.
Ulvinowyn stands watch, and although her eyes are scolding as Legolas climbs the large stone wall and jumps the fence, she promises not to say a word.
His boots land softly in the damp grass as he runs across the forest floor, deciding not to take an oryx as he passes the stable. He's more agile on his feet and furthermore more hidden. And besides, there are many commands used for them that he does not know. He does not want to risk causing a scene and being found beyond the gates at such an hour. Especially on an animal so uncomfortable as an oryx. It is not even near worth the discomfort in the least.
It is strange running through these territories without the weight of a quiver and bow. There's an almost nakedness to it, like such a vital thing is heavily missing. The bow is not the only thing he feels this way about. A recently-fallen friend comes to mind. And then all his fallen connections follow, his mind flooded with elves that he has lost to battle and mortals that he has lost otherwise. It is strange to grieve them. Though he has grown past the point of intense sadness, there still lies this hollow weight of denial.
It is more foreign than the hills themselves.
At least he understands these hills. He knows what they are and where they go when they disappear. It is easier to grasp it when the change is only physical. The mind is far better at wrapping around such a tangible shift.
He stops walking as he reaches the top of the kudu's ravine, looking down into it and feeling overtly aware of the life within the grass he stands upon. Even the dirt is a presence that sways through him like water. Legolas receives its greeting in silence, acknowledging it as he sits cross-legged and twines the green blades atop it, turning its lush coating of earth hair to small, intricate braids not unlike the ones tied behind his own head.
The thought is firm in his mind that the kudu will come very soon. There's a feeling, a hunch stirring in the hollow of his ribs, that they are nearby and on their way.
It is uncertain how this became so quickly his main passion of this visit to a strange new continent with strange new elves and strange new animals, but knowing the ways of the kudu awakens that same excitement in the fluttering of his ancient heart that he remembers feeling when slaying dragons and riding elephants. Except now it's softer, less malicious, more on his own accord than battle has ever been.
There's a respect here that he never had in war. Respect for life in every aspect. Respect for peace and space and the deep consciousness of such a silent animal. He is without weapons, without malicious intentions. He is not here to fight. He is here to watch.
And then he sees them beneath the thick light of the half-moon, emerging one by one from the forest and down into the tall, sweet grasses of the ravine, their pelts shining under the starlight like slick woven thread. They are quite like the oryxes, but they are taller, stronger, sleeker. Their horns are spiraled and long and elegant while the horns of the oryxes are simple straight ones, constantly threatening to jab its rider, constantly in the way. Legolas sees the immense desirability of riding them instead. He sees it immediately, and he feels it deep in his hands as his palms press against the living earth. The kudu are so enticing, so present, the kind of animal you want to touch and to feel and to listen to.
They graze in the grasses for a long while before turning and walking back into the forest, their young just next to them, their old leading the way back in. The elf cannot keep his eyes off their trail.
Once they've gone, he soon finds himself to have leapt to the bottom of the ravine, studying their footprints and the grasses they've chosen, taking note of which plants they've left untouched and which are nearly gone. He smells the dirt they've stepped in, felt their organic scent, monitored where they go and where they return to.
Soon, he decides, he will learn how to do it with them.
Legolas returns to the village, giving Ulvinowyn a soft pat on the head as she gives him a stoic, watchful eye in return. She follows his every move as he enters through the second gate, sneaking back into his designated quarters and trusting her to keep her promise of telling not a soul.
This promise is one Ulvinowyn is charmed to keep.
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Passersby ➵ ONC 2021
Fanfiction➵ With his days anything but numbered, Legolas finds himself the keeper of far too much time. ➵ As his dear friend Aragorn has passed at the age of 210 and all reason to remain in his kingdom has followed, the immortal elf ventures away from his la...
