Whispers of the Forest (Legolas x Male OC)

Sweet Violets

The days had passed by in a blur, time not existing for the Prince. His only concern was Sîrion, and he adamantly refused to leave his side. Surprisingly, he was allowed to stay. Not even Mithrandir said a word of protest when Legolas refused to leave each day. The healers expected him to be on his chair at this point, always nodding a hello before going about checking the listener's wound, re-bandaging and cleaning his stitched-up side as it had an awful habit of opening. It was terrifying to learn at first, but as the days went on, it became part of the routine, and Legolas could swear it was becoming less common. Less blood was being bled, and the slash looked to be healing ever so slowly. After the healers had come and gone one morning, the Prince had a surprise visitor. Well, it wasn't very surprising as it was one of the healer's apprentices who accompanied the group in the morning. Legolas sat up straighter in his chair, preparing to help with whatever needed to be done, but the girl hadn't come in with any medical supplies. She was fiddling with her own hands, looking incredibly nervous and wide-eyed. Her hair was a dirty blonde, the top half braided back. She couldn't have been more than 16. After what felt like a rather long staring contest, she spoke.

"Why do you never leave?" She asked so softly it could've easily been missed, and before the Prince could even think to respond, she spoke again, "Nevermind, I am sorry, I am not supposed to come in here. I am sorry for bothering you, master elf," she made a quick small bow and as she turned to leave, Legolas finally found his voice.

"I do not mind; you can stay. I'd enjoy the conversation," And though part of his mind was screaming to be left alone, he couldn't ignore the small inkling of curiosity and want for a friend.

Aragorn was busy finding out how to run a kingdom, and Gimli was all too eager to begin setting up treaties between Erebor and Gondor. They would visit most days but never were able to stay long before being whisked away again for more important business. Legolas didn't mind, for the most part, his mind was spinning too fast to keep up conversation for too long, but maybe today was different. The young girl looked at him wearily.

"I want to be here when he wakes, and I am afraid I would worry too much if I were to leave," he crossed his arms, glancing at the listener's peaceful face, "What is your name?"

"Radaeth," She said, a curious sparkle in her eye as she took a step away from the door, "What is yours?"

"Legolas," The Prince smiled softly.

The girl - Radaeth - glanced back at Sîrion, opening her mouth as if to say something before closing and looking at Legolas again as if for permission to speak. Confused, he gives the smallest nod, and she immediately says what's on her mind.


"Nestandîr says we aren't supposed to ask for their names," She gestured to Sîrion, "says it will make our job harder when they..." She paused, a far-off look in her eye for a moment, a sombre look a girl her age shouldn't have, "What is his name?"

The Prince was caught off guard. It was shocking for a child to be working with the healers, especially on such gruesome wounds as those from war. The harsh words of 'when they,' not if, were the greatest shock, not because it implied his listener was going to die but because she had clearly been told to expect the worst from those she helps to heal. It was slightly distressing to Legolas, but he did his best to keep a happy face as he looked toward the listener.

"Sîrion," He uncrossed his arms, hand going back to its place in the listener's.

"He is doing very well," Her eyes were suddenly a bit frantic, "I do not think he will die," She looked at the floor and mumbled to herself, "I was not supposed to say that."

"Why not?" Legolas asked, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

She looked slightly surprised to have been heard, but she answered nonetheless, "If I give you hope and he worsens for some unknown reason, I am to blame."