Out of Sight, Out of Mind//Legolas

Chapter 14; Where it all began

Clatter of hooves on the road filled the crisp evening air along with the hum coming from the gray-cloaked rider. That was usual for Gandalf. Ever since the battle of five armies he's been kept busy researching, preparing. And even thousands of years old wizards got tired, so when he spotted the light and laughter of an inn in the distance a relieved sigh left his lips. Even his horse must have felt the weight of the day and sped up at the sight. Now that he got closer, he could hear music. A bard must have stopped by for a coin. Gandalf smiled. Yes, music was one of the most powerful tools. The crowd inside was rowdy when Gandalf entered. The bard must have just finished one of his pieces. As the head of curly dirty blond hair turned away on the stage to take a sip from his drink a barmaid took the wizard's order. Then the gray eyes fully focused on the man on the stage. With a roll of his shoulders the man- the boy turned to face the crowd.

"I hear you're alive, how disappointing..." The pure hate and spite in his voice wasn't the only thing that surprised Gandalf. The youth of his face shocked him first. He couldn't be more than twelve. Or maybe he could, thought Gandalf as he noticed the slightly pointed tips of his ears.
"I've also survived, no thanks to you.
Did I not bring you some glee?
Mister, oh, buy from me.
Now I'll burn all the memories of you." The mocking nature of his body language led Gandalf to believe the hate was as real as it seemed.

"All those lonely miles that you ride,
now you'll walk with no son by your side!
Did you ever even care?
With your swords and your stupid flair?
Now watch me laugh as I burn all the memories of you." The hate then subdued, being replaced by flamboyance that bards were known for.

"Ladies and gentlemen, you have been the most beautiful audience! Remember to toss a coin if you can! If anyone needs me, I'll be at the bar." Spiteful grin rested on his face.

"What for d'you yearn?
It's the point of no return.
After everything we did, we sought,
you turned your back on me!
What for d'you yearn?
Watch that blacksmith burn!" The bard's green eyes kept sliding over the walls of the inn, but never connected with anyone. The wizard couldn't tell whether he was avoiding eye contact on purpose.

"At the end of my days when I'm through
no word that I've written will ring quite as true as "burn!"
Burn, blacksmith, burn!
Burn, blacksmith, burn!
Burn, burn, burn, burn, burn, burn, burn, burn..." The boy's tense shoulders fell slightly as he breathed out the last words.
"Watch me burn all the memories of you." He ended the song with his head bowed as he received an applause. He bowed one last time and then walked over to the bar. The crowd quickly went back to their conversations, finding nothing strange about the bard, but Gandalf wasn't so easily fooled. The bard talked to the barmaid, she smiled a sad smile and shook her head. The boy solemnly nodded and turned his head to the plate that she put in front of him. The evening turned into night and Gandalf found himself watching the bard make his way up the stairs, probably to go and rest.

"Poor lad." The barmaid sighed as she came to collect Gandalf's empty plate. She must have noticed his staring. "Came 'ere just a couple days ago, basically beggin' for a place to stay. This is sadly the last night we have a room for 'im. We're expecting a big party arriving tomorro' and my husband can't let the poor thing stay."

"Where will he go?" He asked and she only shrugged.

"Didn't say. Nor where did he come from. But by those pointy ears I'd say Lórien. 'nother reason my husband doesn't want 'im 'ere. Thinks 'e's bringin' trouble with 'im." Gandalf then made his way to his own room and settled for the night, his dreams being haunted by green eyes helplessly lost wandering the Lórien forest.