The Price of Pride

21: A day in the Camp

ActII

Rivals

Chapter 21: A day in the Camp

Woodland Realm, July 3018 T.A.

A night breeze rustled through the tall grass at the edge of the camp, near the riverside, offering a small measure of relief to the painful memories the nightmare had stirred. It was another night like countless others, spent wrestling with his guilt, with nightmares serving as relentless reminders that he could neither forget nor forgive.

He sat against a large rock, the soft wind tugging gently at him, brushing his silver hair, which hung freely past his shoulders. After last night's bath, he had not yet braided it, and the playful breeze blew a strand of hair in front of his piercing blue eyes.

Gazing beyond the river, he looked towards the forest they had escaped just a day ago. The memories of the previous days replayed in his mind, attempting to distract him from the haunting images of his nightmare.

Perhaps his decision had been unwise; perhaps he should let the guilt consume him, take what was left of him. His ageless face, inscrutable to the outside world, hid the turmoil within. He knew he had long since made peace with his guilt, living alongside it. But this journey through Mirkwood had reopened wounds he had convinced himself were healed.

At last, he sighed and shook his head at his foolishness. He rose silently to his feet, his soft feet making no sound against the ground. He turned towards the camp, knowing his companions were not far away. It would take only a few moments to reach them.

Dawn was almost upon them, and as was his custom, he moved through the camp to ensure everyone's safety. Sleep had long abandoned him, making these nocturnal rounds his solace. Tonight was no exception.

His bare feet met the cold grass with each step, the dew dampening his skin as he gazed out at the open field of green. Two of the horses were already awake, munching contentedly on the grass they had missed for too long. The other two lay by the riverbank, still resting. He cherished these peaceful moments, rare as they were.

The camp was meticulously set up, larger than usual, indicating their plan to stay for a few days. It was a calculated risk, but with the knowledge that the journey ahead could turn perilous, with long hours or even days of riding, he owed everyone a few long moments of peace and rest.

As he approached the heart of the camp, his eyes met with Elros, who was already awake. Elros acknowledged him with a nod before returning to his task, examining and repairing his tunic. Traveling for centuries and undertaking numerous quests had molded Elros into a man adept at surviving in the wild and adapting to the diverse company that traveled with them.

Elros was not merely a random guard of Thranduil's forces; he was one of the few men Thranduil trusted implicitly, often dispatched on missions that others would refuse. Legolas knew that Elros was also a trusted friend of his father, and his presence on this journey to Rivendell was not solely for protection.

There was a time when Legolas had not been fond of Elros. He was not the traditional woodland elf. Old in age, closer to Thranduil's years, with a background steeped in personal and often perilous missions, Elros was not someone one would typically befriend easily.

Despite this, Elros was privy to truths that even Legolas did not know, including some of Legolas's own missteps. Yet, Elros never spoke of these things to the prince—offering neither comfort nor condemnation, simply an unspoken understanding. They were not friends as Elros was with Thranduil. They were allies on this quest, united by the mission to inform Elrond of Gollum's escape. That was the extent of their bond.