Daughter Of Lórien || Book 1||

Ch 24 ~ A Lesson in the Forest

"Hold on. You're telling me you've never actually left Mirkwood?"

My voice is sharp, a knife that cuts through the stillness of the forest, disturbing the morning peace of the thick trees.

The Prince grins at my left, shrugging his broad shoulders a little guiltily.

"Pretty sad, I know."

We ride through the trees, Asfaloth and the Prince's mare trotting alongside each other, their hooves padding along the soft ground dampened by the fresh morning dew.

I shake my head in disbelief, trying to wrap my head around the idea of never leaving Rivendell's borders for my over two thousand years of life.

"Don't you ever want to go see what's beyond these borders? What wonders the rest of the world holds?"

His eyes turn distant. "Yes, I've longed to see what lies beyond these trees my entire life."

He pauses, seemingly lost in his thoughts, but then shakes his head slightly and turns to me. "Perhaps one day I'll be able to see it all."

I narrow my gaze at him, confused.

Lowering my voice softly, I ask, "If you long to see the world then why haven't you gone to seek it out already?"

His eyes darken, a glimmer of dangerous anger sparking in their blue depths.

"My father forbids it," he admits rather begrudgingly, his voice suddenly cold. "Ever since..."

He trails off, a sudden wave of sadness cooling the anger in his eyes as a glimmer of memory seems to pass through them.

I watch the expression on his face, studying the pain it reveals.

"Since?" I press softly, my voice a gentle whisper.

That faint glimpse of the past fades from his face and he shakes his head, turning from me.

"It's nothing."

I decide not to pressure him, the sadness in his eyes telling a story enough. We descend into silence, the only sound in the forest being that of the gentle padding of hooves as our mounts continue to slowly trot along a worn dirt path leading through the peaceful trees. After a few silent minutes of travel we come to a small clearing of trees, though not the same one I had found yesterday. The sun streams through the trees in large, bright patches of light and a small creek trickles at its far end, fragrant wildflowers growing in clusters of vivid color along its edge.

"Best let the horses get a drink," I call to the Prince, swinging a leg over my saddle.

The sound of the Prince dismounting his own horse is the only indication that he heard me as I lead Asfaloth to the stream. Leaving the horses to drink, I sit down on the grass by the trickling water, closing my eyes and basking in the bright sunlight, letting it warm my face.

After a moment, I hear the Prince find a seat beside me, though I do not open my eyes.

A light flutter brushes my fingertips, so gentle that I could have imagined it. My mind automatically dismisses it as the phantom touch of the wind, though I feel nothing of the kind upon my sun-warmed face.

Opening my eyes, I realize that the Prince is no longer seated beside me. I rise to my feet, scanning my surroundings, but he seems to have disappeared from the clearing entirely.

A sharp whistle has me snapping my head up to the thick branches of the trees above. To where the fair-haired Prince now perches, grinning down at me, the bow that was previously on his back now in his hands.