Anariel of Erudin: The Age of Revolution | Lord of the Rings

5. The Archer Returns

Admittedly, I had dreamt of this moment so many times, a dream I knew would never come true, yet I could never seem to rid my heart of it. Five years ago, Legolas had boarded the great white ship for the last time, sailing far into the West, to a place forever denied to me.

By now, I had come to terms with it. Sometimes, when I was far away on another adventure, I even started to forget about him.

But whenever I came back here, to this wood that held so many memories, he always found his way back into my thoughts. When I was among the trees, I swore I could hear him behind me, his voice passing through the wind as soft as a whisper and filling my heart with longing. Not once did I turn around because I knew it was nothing more than a cruel trick of my mind, but today the temptation was too great to ignore.

Taking a deep breath, I slowly turned around. 

I first saw him in the far corner of my vision, no more than a blur to my eyes. Beside a tree he stood, clad in green and brown, just as I remembered. It was too perfect. He looked too much the same, as if he been plucked right out of my most precious memories. Even as he stood in front of me, I denied the truth of him, but still, despite my denial, his image never faded. He was staring right at me with those piercing blue eyes of his, eyes that could penetrate a person's soul. In that moment I knew he was real because even my mind could not recreate those eyes.

"Legolas," I whispered, unable to believe it. 

Without a second thought, I ran to him as fast as my legs would let me, hoping he wouldn't vanish before I reached him, and then I collided into his chest and held him as tightly as I could.

Rarely did an elf ever lose his balance, but Legolas did, just for a moment. He recovered quickly, though, and chuckled quietly to himself.

I soaked it all in: the warmth of his body, the smoothness of his suede jerkin, the sound of his voice, even the smell of him: earthy and crisp as the oak leaves. If he hadn't laughed, I would have thought I was hugging a tree. 

As my cheeks flushed with embarrassment, I pulled away and dropped my gaze to the ground. I was just about to deliver my sincere apology when I felt his hands on mine, pulling me back into his arms for an embrace even tighter than mine.

He hadn't said a word, and yet I could feel everything he was thinking. That was his way. He was an elf of few words but capable of great, unanticipated actions.

Having had to wait five years to touch him again, I was reluctant to pull away, but to stay in silence wasn't an option. I had too much to say, and I didn't know how long this bliss would last.

"You're here," I said, and only when the words came out did it finally sink in: Legolas really was here, right in front of me. "How long have you been here?"

The right corner of his mouth twitched upwards, forming a small smirk. "Nearly two months."

"Two months? I can't believe ... If only I'd known, I would have returned sooner—and Elladan didn't tell me! He hid it from me, that sneaky little snake!"

"Do not be angry with him," Legolas said. "I asked him not to tell you because I wanted to surprise you."

"Then you are cruel as well." It was impossible for me to pretend to be angry. In seconds, my lips broke into a grin, which then softened into a smile as Legolas's hand found my face. His fingers gently caressed my cheek like it was a fine sculpture.

"You look so different," he said in fascination, running his fingers through my tangled brown hair.

"You look exactly the same." Just as I remember. "How long will you stay?" I asked, fearing the answer.