Painful Pasts (a Legolas imagine im sorry😂)

Part 3: Getting Familiar

     I stayed with this odd group of travelers and slowly but surely, I began to trust them. It was probably foolish to do so, but I couldn't help it. We got used to each other and would joke and tell stories. I became especially close with Legolas and Aragorn. Aragorn was interesting; he was easy to talk to and quickly became somewhat of a brother to me. I hadn't really had people to trust in quite some time, and it felt good to finally have friends. Legolas interested me in a different way. He had a way of effortlessly comforting me whenever I was worried about something, and he was such a good listener. I quite liked listening to his stories, too. He would tell hilarious tales of getting into trouble as a young ellon and of his home. I could tell that Aragorn, Legolas and I enjoyed each others company, but it felt different when I talked to Legolas versus when I talked to Aragorn. They were both fun and empathetic, but something about talking to Legolas felt so familiar. I couldn't quite place the feeling, but I knew it was something I had felt before. Eventually I tried to ignore the feeling.
     One morning, I woke earlier than the rest of our group. Since everyone was still sleeping, I set out to find some breakfast. I walked lightly, careful not to disturb the others. Once I got farther into the trees, I climbed into the nearest one and hopped from limb to limb, savoring the sweet morning breeze. When I finally came across a patch of berries, Voiel berries to be specific, I filled the basket I had brought along with as many as it could carry. I trudged back, proud of my bountiful harvest. When I returned, Sam was awake. "Good morning Sinthuil," he yawned. I grinned and showed him my basket of fruit. "Good morning. I got some breakfast for the group." At that, Sam's eyes widened. "Are they safe?"
I laughed and popped one into my mouth. "Yes, they're actually my favorite berry."
     "Those are my favorite too," purred a low voice from behind me. I turn around, grinning wider when I see Legolas eyeing the purple berries. "May I?" He asks, snaking his long, calloused fingers towards the basket. I playfully slap his hand away and scrunch my nose a bit. "Wait for the others to wake up, you glutton," I snicker. He feigns a pouty face and I laugh at his childish expression. It's kind of cute, to be honest. "I thought you were sharing," he sighs dramatically. I roll my eyes, smiling, and toss one at his face. "You know," I begin as Legolas snatches a berry. "I grow bushes if these at home. Honestly, my cottage isn't too far from here," I mention. "Oh!" Legolas looks at me and tilts his head a bit. "I still don't know where you're from," he smiles warmly. I laugh again. "I'm from Rivendell, but I live on my own now. Again, my cottage isn't far from here." I remember Letra and I playing, running around my yard in Rivendell as young elleths. I wonder if she remembers me. Legolas notices my suddenly crestfallen expression and places a gentle hand on my forearm. "Are you ok, mellon?" He asks, concerned. I plaster on a fake smile and shake my head. "It's nothing, but I think I may have left my front door unlocked..." I lie.
     At this point, Gimli and two more hobbits are awake. "What's all this talk of a cottage?" Pipes Mery. "I live near here," I say again. Gimli starts grouching about how I should have mentioned it before so we could sleep in shelter.  I roll my eyes and tell him that everyone would be welcome if he wakes the rest of the group.
     Forty-five minutes and about a hundred complaints from Boromir later, we arrive at my cottage. Surprisingly, the door is actually unlocked. "That's odd," I think as I cross the threshold. Thankfully, I had cleaned the place before I left. "It's not much, but-" I am cut off by Aragorn yelling. "Sinthuil, behind you!" Without thinking, I spin around, hooking my blade under the intruder's chin.
     I freeze in shock. Standing before me, her hands held up in surrender, was Letra. Her ebony hair fell in pin-straight locks down her back, and her linen clothing looked freshly pressed. Her deep brown eyes shone, complimenting her pale complexion. She was just as beautiful, if not more so, than I had last seen her. The others, confused at my hesitation and the beauty standing in front of me, looked on as I lowered my weapon.