Aeonian [Legolas]

10

The company was only within Rivendell's bounds for a day; a day in which Viridis took it upon himself to wash in a stream that was but a few hours walk from where he first abandoned everyone else. He fed on greens and berries wherever he could find them, and slept on the tallest branch that would support him during the night though rest never found him, only solitude— an almost suffocating sense of it too. Regularly, he would have enjoyed a night alone. But since seeing Rivendell again in several long years it seemed he had lost the luxury that came with letting go. But in the end, he realized after all that maybe 'letting go' was a concept only an undiscovered species could rightfully achieve.

It was in the morning that the Orcs found him but Viridis was already gone by the time they would have reached them, his blades warning him with their blue glow giving him enough time to slip beneath the grasp of sleep he would never wake from in as it was in death.

Eluding the Orcs without the Dwarves was easier. He didn't have to worry about looking out for the others nor manage their reckless heed. The only thing that was made difficult by traveling alone was there was no backup when the Orcs eventually found him in the second hour of his journey back.

By the time he found the rest of the company, it was raining. The Elf was soaked, hair drenched, and rain washing off the blood that decorated his figure. The sunny sky had given way the closer he got to something more trepidatious; more somber. It was fitting. 

The further they got from Rivendell, the worse the terrain. The company was walking precariously forward, battling the edge of a stone mountain path. One wrong step and there was an abyss of nothing that would greet the unfortunate adventurer.

"What happened to you?" Gimli shouted out over the rain, flinching when a large crack of thunder sounded and tightened his grip on one of the ledges he had found to push him along.

"I took care of it." Viridis scowled, watching as the rain washed him and the memories of his journey. His steps were fluent, filled with surety as his eyes studied the path. Balance was no issue to him, nor was the rain or the wind.

"Orcs." Throin grumbled, voice still loud even under the circumstances. He was a leader, after all. "Were you followed?"

"I took care of it." Viridis repeated. He needed not say more. And Thorin didn't push him on it though Viridis could see the way his eyes turned dark after that moment. Whatever trust Viridis had been able to establish with the Dwarf, no matter how small it may have been, surely was gone after the company's visit with the Elves. He should have expected it. Trust was a fragile thing and when it was dangling above thousands of feet of nothing but death, there was no safety net.

"Why didn't yo-" Bilbo went to say, head turning to look at Viridis.

"My whereabouts was none of your concern as of this moment. Head straight, Bilbo. The ledge two paces forward is faulty. If you were watching the others, you'd know." Viridis said in a clipped tone, voice just loud enough to be heard over the angry wind. It wasn't a lecture but the words hadn't exactly been worded nicely.

"Sorry." The Hobbit hurried out, obviously hurt at the outburst.

Viridis sighed, taking the second to ground himself against such an unsteady surface. "Don't be. These are just things you learn. It would do you good to apply them sooner if you wish to survive this journey in one piece because believe it or not, you are important to the success of our ambitions."

The Hobbit didn't open his mouth again. He did, however, take the Elf's advice and watch intently, following his comrades' steps as they inched along further. It was darker here, any specks of sun all hidden behind the storming clouds that were intended to unleash all hell on them.