Middle Earth Prompts.

Legolas Prompt - The Fight.

Writing prompt - Legolas is on the first watch of the evening after the fellowship has decided to camp down for the night. You are having trouble falling asleep and decide to go for a walk, much to Legolas's annoyance, who thinks you cannot handle yourself. You both end up in an argument.

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Twists of ebony smoke began to snake their way into the lofty tree canopy above the camp as the evening fire below dwindled into piles of smouldering ash and wisps of ardent dust. The faint breeze that was now blowing its way around the sleeping sacks was itself heated to a point where it felt baked, offering no shelter from the dense temperature of the relentless summer heatwave. Elanor wearily groaned out of sheer disappointment as she felt several droplets of perspiration slowly slide their way down the arch of her back, moving her body to adjust as she tried to rest against the trunk of an elevated tree. 

She laid still for what seemed like an age, trying to convince her body that she had returned home to the compassion of Lothlorien, basking in the peaceful running water of a glistening brook as it tumbled over the bare skin of her toes. Elanor then perceived that she had sat down in the pool, dipping back her head to drench the lengths of her golden hair as it drifted in the gentle waves that surrounded her soaked robe, only coming back up to let the cool wind tickle her chilled skin. 

But suddenly, a crashing tide of lava began to creep its way upstream, steaming and hissing out angrily as the liquid crept ever closer, hardening the earth and leaving a horrendous scar across the forest floor before engulfing the elleth whole. Elanor gave up on her fantasy with a dejected whisper, shuffling to quietly stand to her feet and look around.

The fellowship had long since started to snore, not as constant as it had been on previous nights, but everyone seemed to be in some manner of disorganized rest. Limbs had been exposed from blankets in an attempt to cool down, and a couple of the hobbits would toss over onto their other side to try and catch the cooler side of the pillow. The only other person who was not attempting to nap was Legolas, who was now taking his turn as the guard for the rest of the night. Although Elanor had thought she had been silent in her movements, she could have sworn that she saw a flicker of movement in his hair as he faced away from her, the smallest twitch in the back of his neck. But as she observed him further, she saw that the elf was as still as a statue. His calm exterior not unlike the stillness of the boulder that he had perched himself upon as he peacefully continued to watch over the valley below them.

The elven prince had seemingly not warmed to Elanor as she herself would have hoped he would. He was short with her in conversation, often ignored her suggestions or any arguments she made when an issue arose within the fellowship and would ostracize her if she attempted to talk to him on any sort of personal level. His behaviour had confused everyone who had been around the pair, but Elanor had made a point of not mentioning Legolas or his actions to any of the others in the fellowship and had said nothing to do with how much it had been upsetting her. 

The elleth had now already settled on leaving camp to take a recess, not believing that she could take another awkward glance or repugnant stare. She noiselessly leaned down, untying her walking boots before leaving them by the silvery Lothlorien cape that had been draped over her as a thin blanket. Her bare heels drank in the coolness of the humid moss that now cushioned them, her skin seeming to breathe in with the relief of the sudden moisture. Silently, Elanor rose to her tip-toes and slinked off into the darkness, exhaling as the heaviness of her situation left her as she crossed the boundaries of the campsite.

The trees spontaneously seemed to settle in around her, protectively shielding her from the view of anyone else that might be daring to walk in the darkness. The shimmering slivers of moonlight from the heavens above began to glisten down through the sparse branches, highlighting parts of an unused pathway that Elanor instantly felt at home on, whispering out prayers of nourishment as she fingered wilting shrubs and bushes, gliding further and further away from the faint glow of the fire. The freedom was overwhelming, taking her breath away as she stopped in the nook of a large oak tree, her actions almost ethereal as she floated to a halt.