Feä Bond (Legolas x OC)

Where time is suspended

On the following day, Frances decided that she would abide by the elves' wishes and made to get to her rooms. Unfortunately, she could not remember her way around the place. They had walked in such a haze on the day before, focusing on not stumbling down to keep a little honour in front of those ever-perfect elves. But Aragorn knew the golden woods from his previous visits, and he offered to take her to the guest quarters.

The ranger was pretty silent as he walked, his face reflecting some sort of melancholy as his grey eyes gazed over the wonders of Lothlórien. But unlike his usual poise, his body was relaxed. Frances could feel this strange out of time mood that should have soothed her as well, but she could not relent just yet. They very forest was unsettling. Every part of it seemed alive and waiting for a reason to awaken. The trees themselves seemed to be watching them, the Dunadán's crownless king and the Keeper of Time. How grand it sounded when in fact Frances was very, very lost. Just a woman, really. Did Aragorn feel that way too ? That his title was too big for his frame ?

They arrived at the bottom of a grey tree and the young woman swallowed back her questions.

- "I believe you can climb the steps to the first level. There should be maids awaiting for you in the common room."

- "Should I join you afterwards in camp?" she asked, suddenly intimidated to be left alone.

Frances did not usually shy away from solitude. In her world, she used to research it quite actively. But after travelling for so long with the fellowship, she had got used to their presence, even Gimli's snoring. Aragorn frowned, visibly unsure about what to answer. In truth he had no idea what to say. He knew not how long the fellowship would stay and a part of him hoped that the young lady would remain in Lórien.

- "You are free to come and go as you please. I will consult with Lord Celeborn today as to the length of our stay. The company is in great need of rest and I think wise to take it while we can. Meanwhile none of us would bear you ill will should you choose to remain in your quarters."

Frances frowned. She had asked what their leader wanted of her, and the only answer she got was that he didn't have any wishes. But Aragorn was probably right. Rest was needed.

- "All right then. Good luck with your meetings."

Her speech must have seemed a tad modern for the ranger gave her a queer look before nodding. Frances watched him as he went, broad shoulders graced with his brownish hair. How much could they hold? Was the fate of the world quite enough? And what of Frodo? The hobbit was a wonder, so frail and yet so sturdy.

Stair after stair, Frances climbed the tree that was supposed to host her for the following nights. She reached a room of branches where carpets and wooden furniture showed off their elven elegance. A soft breeze was the only reminder of its openness for it enclosed visitors in a cocooned space. No one was in sight and Frances made to sit on a beautifully carved bench. But no sooner had her legs touched the wood that an elvish maid entered the room. Had she been so loud?

The maid was beautiful and ageless, a very common trait among the elves. On her face there was no hint of friendliness or disapprobation, only a careful neutral expression. A flash of Legolas' face came to her, and she could not help but compare them. He was so genuine and expressive, merrier.

- "This way my lady," said the maid, and her voice was as light as a feather.

They climbed a few steps on the other side of the room and came upon a lovely carved door. There was no lock on either side of it; it was only a token of privacy. One could easily walk through the slips in the branches; they were only covered by curtains and tapestries. The silken material looked like it would fly away, but it hid the occupants from view. Obviously sound insulation was not even considered. After all, elves were so silent that it made sense. Wait, did elves ever snore? Or sweat for that matter?