These Lovely Scars (Lord of the Rings Fanfic)

A Night Vigil

Aragorn and I join the fellowship again, where they are beginning to lay their things out. Oh yes, I remember Gandalf saying something about camping here tonight. I feel a bit guilty to say that I'm relieved. The fact that I am so tired and weak from today's walking puts negative thoughts into my head. Do the other members also feel tired? Am I not strong enough? Not as strong as the other members? Will they kick me out of the fellowship because I can't keep up?

Stop it. I'm being ridiculous. It's okay to be tired, and I'm keeping up just fine with the fellowship. I was meant to do this. I can't just relax in Rivendell for all my life.

Gandalf does a head count, and then calls our attentions to him. "It is necessary for us to maintain a vigil through the dark hours of the night. There are foul things in this mine, and if we are to perish during this quest, I would rather it not be under the cause of our helpless selves when asleep." What does me mean by 'foul things' in this mine? I thought the mine was long abandoned. "We will keep watch in groupings of two," Gandalf continues, his gaze sweeping across us all. "That way, if one is to fall asleep, we will have one other so that we are not left vulnerable for goblins to slit our throats during the night." I cringe at the image. "Legolas and Adrianne, first watch." My heart skips a beat, and I don't know why. "Gimli and Aragorn, second watch." Gimli grunts unhappily. I bet he was hoping to get out a shift so that he could catch up on his beauty sleep. "Boromir and I will take the third watch. Legolas and Adrianne, awaken Gimli and Aragorn for their watch after a few hours. Gimli and Aragorn, do the same for Boromir and I." Gandalf nods at us; his words are final.

The rest of the fellowship take to their resting spots and doze off, one by one. I can't help but imagine how uncomfortable sleeping on the stone floor must be. I haven't slept in a real bed since we departed from Rivendell (well...obviously?). My bed in Rivendell was so soft. Oh, I could fall asleep right now just thinking about those silky sheets and fluffy pillows.

No, I can't think about that right now. I have a watch to keep. With Legolas...

The two of us sit with our backs against the one stone wall of the mine, with all the felowship in our view. The hobbits sleep cuddled up near to each other; it's so sweet. I love how strong their bonds are. Aragorn sleeps next the the little group of hobbits. I can tell that he formed a strong bond with them while he brought them safely to Rivendell. Especially Frodo. Gimli, fittingly sleeps with his war helmet on and his axe positioned ready in his hand. Boromir faces the opposite way, with his back turned against the fellowship. I suppose that, too, is also fitting, given he doesn't approve of destroying the ring. No, it should be given to his city. My eyes flicker over to Gandalf, and I jump a bit in surprise.

"What is it?" Legolas asks, concern filling his voice.

I smile. It's comforting how caring he is. "Is...is Gandalf...sleeping?" Both of his eyes are wide open, and he holds his staff in one hand.

"Oh, yeah," Legolas laughs a little. "He sleeps with his eyes open."

"It's so peculiar," I say, amazed by the fact that his eye lids don't close when he sleeps, and also by the fact that I hadn't noticed this all the night's we've slept earlier. I must be quite unobservant. Or maybe I just don't watch people sleep. A thought comes to my head. "Do you...um, sleep?" I ask Legolas. I'm not quite sure I've actually seen him lay down with his eyes closed before.

"I do, but not as often as everyone else does." I give him a questioning look. "Elves don't feel the need to sleep as much as other races do."

"What do you do then?" I ask, studying him in the dark. His blue eyes still shine like stars when there is no light. "When the rest of us sleep?"

"Sometimes I try to fall asleep, but it doesn't always work. Most of the time, I just lay there and think." I can tell he is studying me too, and I shy away slightly. What is going through his mind right now? Is he thinking about how plain and boring my dark hair is, or how black and soulless my eyes look? Does he wonder where my scars are?

I brush away the thoughts. Sometimes I wish that I could escape from what's in my mind. "What do you think about?" I ask, trying ignore the thoughts that fly around my head and buzz into my ears. You're ugly, they say. There's no way he could possibly ever like you.

"I think about Mirkwood a lot," he says, giving me a sad smile. All my thoughts vanish and I am lost in his eyes. I slap myself out of it and listen to him speak. "I never thought I would miss the thick woods and the dark elven palace as much as I do. And my father. He has crept into my mind and found a place in my thoughts."

I feel sad for him. Of course, I miss Elrond dearly too, but he is not my father. I am grateful for the care and protection he has given me in Rivendell, and I have come to love him greatly, but I wish I knew who my real father was. In my other life. I wish I could miss him. "What's he like, your father?" I ask, genuienly interested to know what Legolas's dad is like. He could be your future father in law, a thought whispers gleefully into my ear.

Excuse me? Where did that thought come from!

I unwillingly blush at my annoying thoughts and go back to Legolas. "He's...he's a good leader. His people respect him. We do not always agree on things, but I love him. He is a good father. My mother died when I was young, so he raised me by himself. He is the only parent I know. I do not remember my mother very well."

"I'm sorry," I say. "I know how you feel. I can't remember my parents at all. I can't remember what my family was like, or what my life before now used to be like." Every time I try to think about them, nothing comes to mind. It's blank. "Maybe it's for the best," I add, playing with the laces on my gloves.

I can feel Legolas's eyes on me. He is studying me. "I'm sorry," he says. "I shouldn't complain. My pain for the loss of memory for one family member is nothing compared to what you must feel." We are both silent for a while, and then he says, "But you are strong. I know you are. And whoever your family may be, wherever they are, they love you. Even if you cannot find them in your heart, you are in theirs."

Legolas's hand goes up to my face and gently brushes something away. A tear.

"I was wrong," I say. "I thought that I would never be able to miss my family or feel anything for them because I don't know who they are, but that's not true. I do miss them." Legolas puts his arm around me, and I lean my head on his shoulder. We sit together until I feel my eyes close.