The Silver Flame (LOTR)

The Woodland Realm

Visenya kept her sword close at her side as they moved through the dense forest, her mind racing with questions. Each step forward only deepened her unease. The men leading her—if they were even men—moved with an inhuman grace and speed that left her both fascinated and unnerved. Their steps barely disturbed the leaves beneath their feet, and the way they weaved effortlessly through the trees was unlike anything she had ever seen.

Their silence, too, was unnatural. Warriors of the North were never quiet like this, not even in times of danger. These beings, with their tall, lean frames and ethereal features, were something else entirely. She found her gaze drifting to their ears—slightly pointed, elegant in a way that felt almost otherworldly. No human had ears like that.

Her curiosity must have been obvious, because Legolas, the pale-haired leader, glanced over his shoulder at her. His sharp eyes, so cold and piercing, caught hers for a brief moment before he turned away. But her staring didn't stop. She couldn't help herself.

What were they?

The more she watched, the more she noticed how different they were. Their hair, varying in shades of brown, auburn, and gold, caught the light in a way that seemed unnatural, almost shimmering in the dappled sunlight. Their movements were fluid, effortless, as though they were part of the forest itself. These weren't men. They were... something more.

Finally, Legolas stopped abruptly, turning to face her. His expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker of impatience in his eyes. "Do you plan on staring the entire way?" he asked, his voice cool and steady. "Or is this some custom where you come from?"

Visenya blinked, realizing that she had been openly gawking at him. A nervous laugh escaped her before she could stop it. "Honestly? No. It's just that... up until a few minutes ago, I didn't even realize elves were real." She shrugged, an awkward smile tugging at her lips. "Where I come from, there are no elves. Just humans, animals, and... dragons."

Legolas's eyes narrowed at the mention of dragons, his body stiffening as if he had heard a curse. The others exchanged wary glances, their hands twitching toward their weapons. The tension was palpable, as though she had said something that didn't belong in this world.

"Dragons?" Legolas repeated, his voice quieter now, but laced with suspicion.

Visenya nodded slowly, noting the sudden shift in their demeanor. "Yes... dragons. I'm guessing you don't have those here, either?"

Legolas didn't respond immediately. Instead, he studied her with a gaze that felt far too intense, as if he were trying to read something deeper in her words. Finally, he turned away, motioning for the others to continue moving. "No," he said curtly. "We do not."

She followed them in silence, her heart still pounding from the brief exchange. If they were so wary of dragons, she would have to be careful about what else she revealed. They had saved her life, but that didn't mean she could trust them—at least, not yet. But the way they moved, the way they held themselves... these were no ordinary warriors.

They continued through the Greenwood, and though Visenya tried to focus on where they were heading, her mind kept drifting back to the strange beauty of the woods. The trees here were ancient, towering above them, their bark thick and gnarled with age. But there was something alive about them, something more than just the leaves and branches. It was as if the forest itself breathed, like it had a life of its own, and Visenya couldn't help but be in awe of it.

The air was thick with the scent of earth and moss, and the occasional beam of sunlight filtered through the dense canopy overhead, casting an almost ethereal glow on the ground. She had never seen anything like it. This was no ordinary forest. It was magic, in its purest form.