Feä Bond (Legolas x OC)

The Hunt

Falling to her knees in exhaustion, the young woman bent forward, her breath wheezing with the effort. It was a chance that that her stomach was empty else she would have expelled all its content. She had gone too far, pushed her limits too much, and there was little more she could do now to get back on her feet. The strain was too great for her and for one of the first time in her life Frances surrendered, accepting defeat with a bitter heart. All her training in Interpol could not have prepared her to this.

As tough as she was, her body was failing. She could not compete with the lightness of Legolas's feet, nor the stubborn stamina of Gimli's stomping, nor even the improved resistance of a greater man like Aragorn. A reminder of how Numenor's blood was still strong and alive in the Dunedain's veins. His feet were lighter than hers, despite his hundred and eighty pounds. His ancestor being of elven kind had probably something to do with that. Stopping her spiralling thoughts for a moment, Frances lifted her head and squinted; the trio was quickly moving away from her.

Strider was the first to realise than one set of footsteps did not echo anymore on the moss, the lightest of her two companions. It was as he had feared. Being of the race of men himself, only the ranger understood the burden of a rather ineffective body. As much as Gimli complained, dwarves' stamina was still much better than the one of men. As for Legolas, he had sure showed some concern for their young companion, but he was now scouting ahead at a fair distance. Elves did not rest so much, and their weightless bodies allowed them to perform unimaginable things. Aragorn himself was exhausted, despite his many years as a ranger and wandering around with the twins. Elladan and Elrohir never got tired, and they had been the hell of teachers. How he missed them now that the fellowship had broken !

A quick glance at the young woman indicated that she was totally spent; there was no hope. She had probably pushed past her limits until the end. It was a miracle that she had not collapsed, and he could not help but salute her strength of will. The ranger turned around and retreated until he reached her. He knew that her quick mind would have understood the implications of her failure. The veil in her eyes said it all.

Frances had never looked more miserable, even after days and days of walking, nothing had been so hard on her than this hunt. Her reddish face showed great pain, and the sweat that rolled down from her damp hair quickly lost its temperature, leading her to shiver. She was slowly regaining her composure as breath came back to her. Her wildly beating heart was colouring her cheeks in a bright red crimson colour, a colour that was quite unsettling.

Aragorn kept his arms on hers, and she rested her hands upon his shoulders. Finally, Frances' eyes met his, and he was shocked to see the wisdom that laid deep down her soul. She knew, and had the strength to accept it because no other solution was possible. She would be the sacrifice to the cause, and even in her state of utter exhaustion her spirit was still clear enough to comprehend it. There was also fear in her eyes.

What her face would not show her eyes told him, and Aragorn's heart broke at the thought that he could not reassure her. He that wanted so badly to deny the difficult truth but could not. Why had this burden befallen upon him?

Heavy footsteps echoed around them, and he knew that their companions had joined them now. Both of them would have a hard time accepting what needed to be done, because none of them had considered it. Such was the privilege of not being the leader.

— "Are you hurt my lady?", came Legolas' concerned voice as he watched her, searching for potential injuries.

Had it been any other time, Frances would have smiled at this stubborn use of 'my lady'. No matter how many times she had protested, the elf still insisted on calling her by this old-fashioned title. Even Aragorn had come to call her by her name now. But today, she held no heart for laughing. And if she was being truthful, it felt like said heart would not last the day.