Aeonian [Legolas]

5

"I've never thought to ask." Bilbo said, stepping over the log Viridis was seated on and sighing as he sat down and made himself comfortable. "Why are you here on this journey?"

It was an hour past nightfall now and the company had finally taken the leisure of a few hours break before they started their trek again. All gathered around a bubbling fire, the Dwarves raised their heads, gazes falling to Viridis and Bilbo.

"I mean, I understand the Dwarves with-" Bilbo flourished his hands to the company under Thorin Oakenshield. "But you? Why risk your life for a cause that doesn't concern you?"

"I could ask you the same Bilbo Baggins." Viridis said without taking his eyes off the fire. He could feel the heat on his face; could see how he probably looked from an outsider's view. Tangled long red hair, robes of green and brown, his blades laid across his lap like a lifeline, the reminders of past battles littered across his face; scars he couldn't seem to get rid of despite his heritage. Viridis didn't like the gazes on him, didn't like the feelings of suffocation that came with it.

He rose his head, gaze following. Burning amber eyes landed on each of the members around the fire. Cold despite the heat and burning. No one removed their gazes but this way at least, he knew they were looking into his eyes.

"You came here for an adventure, all of you. A chance to do something that means more for the future than what fate has sealed. What makes you think I'm any different?" Viridis said.

"Because you are different." Thorin grunted, poking at the fire with a long stick and stirring the ashes. "You say you are Elvish but you ride with Dwarvish company. Your hair is not braided. It lies flat and unkempt but you have elvish ears. You have blades but no arrows. And you venture in these woods with us with very little explanation."

Viridis knew the leader didn't trust him, had seen the looks he had sent over the course of their short journey. It was little surprise to see the lack of trust and little surprise to be called out in such a manner but even then, Viridis' grip tightened around the hilt of a blade he always kept secure.

"Should explanation be of such necessity? I fail to see relevance." He said. "I am here to help you reclaim your homeland. Why the questions?"

"I-I mean nothing by it, I'm just merely curious." Bilbo stuttered out, drawing Viridis' attention to him.

"I know Bilbo." Came the solemn reply.

"Because last time I trusted someone blind, they tried to have me killed." Thorin interrupted, not willing to let it go. "We don't know what you can offer. We don't know what your motives are. And we don't know why Gandalf seemed to persistent in making sure that you accompanied me on this journey!" Thorin stamped the fire stick in the ground with such force that it stayed there even when he slackened his grip. "You are an Elf. Your kind are not to be trusted."

"'Trusted' is a bigger word that you realise Master Oakenshield. Bigger than all of you realise. It is not about trust." Gandalf said, stepping into the conversation. He had his staff gripped with both hands as he settled it before him. "The answer to your doubts? Viridis and I have spent many a thousand years together and I have bore witness to the great wonders he can produce. Believe me now Master Oakenshield, if I didn't convince him to come along, you all would be dead by a fortnight."

The Dwarves looked like they wanted to scoff; to shake their heads and call the old man out on his bluff but the wind rustled around them all, striking against their cheeks and circling around Gandalf in a way that only heightened the truthful tones in his face. Sunken and deadly, there was no lie detected here. Gandalf smiled. A half quick of the lips but it was a smile.

"When you believe you are excusing yourself, you are accusing yourself." Gandalf said, a sort of finality present in his tone. He smiled now, the act coming easier to him as a lighter tone filled the atmosphere around them. Clearing his throat as if he hadn't just half-threatened one of the mightiest leaders of the Dwarves on a mountainside in the dead of night, Gandalf the Grey adjusted his hold on his staff and started walking.