Repudiate || legolas

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The sound of the mirkwoods rang through Awarthons' ears like a memory. A deep bond with the woods he spent so many years trying to heal. The sacrifice that the woods still sang of. Without Awarthon, the growing thorn bushes would have choked out any life left. It seemed that Awarthon was barely holding on most days. He didn't enjoy dweling on his pain. But it was visible. When he led, or when he spoke in meetings. Sometimes, simple things like trying to garden in his downtime caused pain. Not just physical but emotional. It seemed very rare for an elf to have such turmoil without the call of the sea, yet it seemed to weight Awarthons mind. As much as he tried to stay the beacon of hope and do everything he could to fix and be positive. At the end of the day, he always felt drained.

Life was a bundle of roses, beautiful but painful. Like thorns ripping into his palms as he held onto them for dear life. Even with Legolas, those thoughts never rested. Life just enjoys testing people. But Awarthon needs to be strong, more so than ever. Bilbo asleep between his arms feels like a sturdy weight as he maneuvers the horse. Someone keeping him from floating away towards the canopy  of reaching trees where he would lay there for thousands of years if he could.

"How far are we?" Bilbo asked as he stirred from a restless sleep. Awarthon looked around a bit he knew where they were but wasn't sure what would give Bilbo the best idea.

"About five hours from where we got captured, continue your rest, Bilbo," Awarthon spoke softly, "I will wake you when we near the enchanted lake," he said holding a small antidote for the effect in his pockets. Awarthon was one of the best Alchemists in all of the Kingdom of Mirkwood. It was an enate skill as if the world itself sung its secrets and Awarthon was just a vessel. It seemed to delight itself when Awarthon made something new.

Awarthon had a few major skills that he hoped to be known for, his magic, his alchemy, his garden, his textiles, and his Renaissance abilities. The ability to latch onto things quickly. Well, it was patterns that were involved with things that made it so easy to catch on. Hell, he made his own shoes and armor with only a vauge idea of how. By using what he knows about other things to make the association, he can figure out anything. He lacked strength of a dwarf or courage of men. Hell, he didn't have the grace of an elf. Yet he had his wits and well some courage, mostly impulsiveness. Men and dwarves seemed not to recognize his gardening. And elves didn't recognize him much at all. He had always been other-ed. He was seen as a bit of the strange kid and never seemed to grasp social ques. Then again, they are stupid anyway.

...

"Almost there, Bilbo," Awarthon nudged Bilbos head. His head was rested against his arms anyway as he had to do was shake them to nudge Bilbo awake. The hobbit let out a yawn as he fixed his shirt and blinked the sleep from his eyes. "The water is up ahead," he added as he got off the horse to tend to the pony that Bilbo had left to sleep on Awarthons. Friendships like this seemed rare, well, male friendships. Where there was no taboo of affection. Thorin had gotten upset in the past when Bilbo had spent so much time with Awarthon, but they had both blamed dragon sickness for that.

Bilbo pursed his lips together and stretched. "Ah, made quick timing without all those stubborn Dwarves," bilbo said while he stretched. To his glee, Awarthon seemed to have read his mind and handed him some banana jerky, sweet bread with honey and jam, and a bit of bacon chips. It wasn't much, but it was enough for the hobbit. Meanwhile, Awarthon just ate the banana jerky and sweet bread. "Cut down our travel about five days since we haven't taken many rests?" Bilbo inquired more as a statement needing clarification.

Awarthon nodded as he chewed on the soft yet firm banana slices. "About I would say. We have been gone for about four days now," Awarthon spoke as he covred his mouth, worried about showing Bilbo chewed up food, "one you eat, we will take the potion of order I made before we cross the river," Awarthon explained walking along side Bilbo and the horses.