Crownless » LotR [2]

Chapter Eleven: Nimloth

They didn't risk a fire, sitting in silence as dusk turned to night. Elle played with Boromir's horn thoughtlessly, running her hands over the markings around the end.

"So, back in the camp, you chose Nimwig to face Agor's champion," Eowyn spoke up, glancing up from the dirt. "How come?"

Elle blinked, jolted out of her thoughts. Meeting her friend's eyes, she bit her lip, then shrugged, sighing a little. "I don't know... She seemed to want to fight. Plus..." She felt a little ashamed saying it. "I didn't want to risk any of your lives."

"Psh," Eowyn scoffed, although her face had softened considerably. Scooting closer to Elle's side, she gazed at Boromir's horn. "How do you think they are doing?"

Elle gazed down at the horn, clenching her jaw. "I don't know, hopefully better than us. I made sure Elladan knew the importance of getting to Boromir quickly before we left."

"I'd be less worried about them and more worried about us," Gimli spoke up, glancing through the trees.

Elle followed his gaze-- toward the elven king.

"If we don't get moving soon, we're just sitting ducks for the Black Order to stumble across," Gimli continued. "Or other horrors of the night, whatever comes first."

"Maybe you should talk to him, Elle."

Blinking, Elle gazed in surprise toward Eowyn. "Me?"

Blue eyes softened and the girl gently took Boromir's horn from Elle's tight grip, nodding warmly, but firmly. "You were able to earlier. Plus... you knew Legolas well. Perhaps what King Thranduil needs to hear is what his son would want."

"Right," Elle swallowed hard. "Cause he didn't try to kill me earlier." She even had a cut on her neck from where his sword had broke skin.

"Yes, but we're all in that boat, lassie." Gimli huffed. "Plus, I'm a dwarf. That would only spite him more. And Eowyn barely knew the Legolas we spent so much time with. Not to mention, you got to know him better than any of us quite did."

"Gimli!" Elle shoved herself up, her face flaming. But the dwarf just shrugged, grinning a little.

"I'm just sayin'."

Eowyn reached over, patting his knee. "Maybe next time, just say it in your head. Or... you know. Not at all."

"I vote not at all," Elle grumbled, turning away. Squaring her shoulders, she gazed at Thranduil's form, then forced her legs to move.

Quietly, slowly. Cautiously.

Elle padded next to the elven king, who had sunk back onto his knees and hadn't moved since. His pale eyes focused on the forest floor, not even blinking as Elle lowered herself to the ground a few feet away.

A long moment passed. Scratching her nose, Elle gazed up at the stars, quietly begging them for help. I don't know where to start.

But Thranduil moved suddenly, lifting his head. He gazed at her emotionlessly, cocking his head a little to the side. "What could you possibly want?"

"I, uh--" Elle swallowed. "We should go. It's not safe."

King Thranduil blinked, his eyes locked so tightly on hers, it was like he was reading every thought that went through her head. Then slowly, his looked away from her, back toward the ground. "Then go."

"We're not going without you, my lord," Elle stared.

Thranduil didn't move.

"Forgive my bluntness," Elle nervously wetted her lips. Her heart pounded against her chest, picking up in pace. "But I cannot see how waiting for the Black Order will serve any purpose. They will kill you."