Starting Anew

Of Elves and Men

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The next few days passed pleasantly enough, marked by an almost uncharacteristic warming in Fornost. Tree boughs which had for weeks been bent low under the weight of snow suddenly found themselves free to rise as their white burdens melted away. Everywhere the ground was either coated with slush, mud or some mixture of the two. It seemed winter had fallen prey to a brief burst of spring in the northern lands.

With no sightings of orcs in the immediate vicinity the atmosphere around the village was quite calm, almost relaxed. The spate of good humor this patch of spring had brought with it worked in Legolas's favor; the Dunedain seemed to be accepting him by measured degrees with each passing day. The Sindarin elf could still feel eyes on his shoulders nearly everywhere he went, and had no doubt that it would be some time still before these wary people trusted him enough to allow him to come and go as he pleased about the village. Still, Legolas found himself almost enjoying the unexpected freedom this sojourn away from his people had granted him.

Patrols went out into the forest every day, and although he was invited every time to join the rangers no one turned to him expecting leadership. That role was reserved for Strider and his captains, who led their groups along familiar trails with an ease an elf could almost envy. Legolas for his part watched and listened, absorbing how the Dunedain interacted with one another and the world around them. When they chanced upon a stag grazing in the underbrush, Legolas was almost surprised to witness the appreciation and reverence with which Daernon treated the creature after he had shot it down with one clean arrow. Living in relative isolation in the Greenwood came with a certain sense of disinterest in mortals, and now Legolas observed with fascination how these rangers seemed to be almost as attuned with the natural world as his own people.

There were certain elements of elvish culture though which the prince of Mirkwood still kept to with devotion; hygiene for one. Unlike the elvenking's palace, there didn't seem to be any facilities reserved for bathing in the simple village. Rather than build anything 'frivolous' such as bath houses, the Dunedain simply bathed in the nearby river whenever an opportunity arose...which from the smell of some of the men was not regularly. Even on the road, Legolas had made time to bathe himself at least once every three days. He had no intention of ceasing to do so now, and so on the third morning since his arrival Legolas arose early and left his cabin with a towel over his arm.

The path to the river was sticky with mud from the melt, so Legolas instead walked over the snow to the side. It was an easier walk over the crusty snow (to an elf at least!) and he was standing on the riverbank just as the sunlight began to shine through the trees. With satisfaction, Legolas noted that he hadn't been followed; either he was to be granted privacy or he had just succeeded in sneaking away unnoticed.

Pleased with himself and the fresh scent of the forest in the morning, Legolas draped his towel over a branch and inspected the riverbank as far as his sharp eyes could see in either direction. The instinct of woodcraft demanded one check for any signs of enemies before settling down to anything. Satisfied that he was alone, the flaxen-haired elf set his knives down on a rock which would be quickly accessible from the water.

Stripping to the skin and leaving his clothes hanging with his towel, Legolas plunged into the icy water without hesitation. The shock did the rest of the work in chasing away what remained of his reverie from the night before. Reaching down with his toes and finding the mucky bottom surprisingly deep down, Legolas surfaced and swam back a little closer to the shore.

Once his long hair was freed from its braids and his scalp properly scrubbed, the elf gave himself a moment to enjoy the river. Diving down and then back up a few times, he made his way toward bar in the middle of the rapidly moving current with confident strokes. Now able to stand with the water at his waist, Legolas stood up and stretched as cold rivulets ran from his hair down his back.