Unspoken ( A Legolas Love Story )

3: Strider and Strife

A knock sounded on the cabin door. Legolas was surprised to find a small girl-child standing on the threshold, staring up at him with wide blue eyes. She looked about eight years of age, but then Legolas was not very practiced at guessing the age of human children.

"Strider said to tell you that you're welcome to join everyone in the main hall for dinner." The girl's voice was high and squeaky with excitement. "We've roasted pheasants tonight, and there's toasted bread with butter too. Oh, and mead!" Clearly this young one had had some hand in helping to prepare the food, judging by how she was fairly bursting with pride to tell him about dinner.

Although he was unaccustomed to such bold behavior, he decided to humor his young hostess, and with a half-smile said, "I would be honored to accept such an invite."

The girl was delighted and she grabbed his hand and tugged him across the yard to the large wooden building, which served as the town's main hall, almost bouncing with every step.

What Legolas had not counted on though, was the reception they would get once they crossed over the threshold into the large building filled with loudly talking bodies and the scent of meat cooking. The folk who noticed the elf with the girl-child hanging on his arm, immediately erupted into a barrage of good-natured teasing.

"Why Gelwin, what a fine escort you've found yourself!"

"Isn't he a bit old for you, girl?"

The girl flushed a shade of scarlet, dropped Legolas's arm and dashed away among the crowd. The mirth from the gathered Dúnedain fairly shook the walls, but Legolas bore it as best he could. He clearly had more to learn about human humor. Rodorin, the slightly overconfident young Ranger, from earlier in the forest, caught his eye and walked over with a smile.

"I imagine this is not like the elven courts you are used to. The laughter in New Fornost flows as easily as the mead does."

"New Fornost?" asked Legolas, curiously.

"Hah, New Fornost is just a nickname for this small village. However, we are not far from the ruins of the ancient city, known fully as Fornost Erain, the 'Northern fortress of the Kings'. It was abandoned after the war of Angmar and the fall of Arnor. I'll take you there sometime if you want to see what remains of it," he said, with very likeable amiability.

As he conversed with the young Ranger, he noticed Strider leaning against one of the large wooden pillars that supported an upper level to the hall. Legolas took his leave of Rodorin and approached Strider. Strider's keen eyes marked the elf's approach, even from across the room. By the time Legolas was within speaking distance, he was already excusing himself from the small cluster of Rangers nearby. Waving a hand toward one of the empty benches and a table, Strider indicated that they should be seated. A dark-haired woman nearly as tall as himself or any of the Dúnedain men, thrust two wooden plates of peasant breast in front them. Legolas's sharp eyes didn't miss the bowstring calluses on her fingers as she did so.

"Thank you Nerwen," Strider said with a smile. She nodded brusquely whilst casting a critical eye over the elf.

As Legolas began to eat, he realized that both he and Strider had a fair few questions for one another.

"Having come from the Greenwood, you must have news of recent happenings in the East." Strider spoke conversationally, but was clearly probing with his measured words. "Word has reached us of a great battle; a battle involving five armies?" Those clear grey eyes seemed to regard Legolas with knowledge that by rights, the elf knew he could not possibly possess.

Knowing that every word he spoke would carry more weight than even he intended it to, Legolas chose his answer carefully. It would be all too easy to betray his own secrets.