Feä Bond (Legolas x OC)

Handling the crisis

They had made good time going downhill, and found the forest at the end of the day. Fortunately, or unfortunately in the eyes of a certain dwarf, a patrol of elves from Lothlórien found them as Legolas attempted to climb one of their beloved trees. The marchwarden, named Haldir spoke westron, unlike his two brothers Orophin and Rúmil. His features, if graceful, seemed set in a permanent scowl. Frances disliked him at once. But the company was so wary that they were way past caring the warmth of their saviors. They spent the night on a Talan, some sort of wooden flet installed high above the ground in a Mallorn tree. If Frances had not been so tired she probably would have minded the absence of railings. But in her state of exhaustion it didn't matter anymore. Past the shock of Gandalf's fall would come sorrow. But for the moment rest was the only thing on her mind. She closed her eyes as soon as her head was set down, and slept soundly. No nightmares to plague her, no Balrog populating her thoughts this night although it would come eventually. Her forearm stung badly, but she was too exhausted to care.

The next morning came fast enough, and her hand was throbbing painfully. Frances was already regretting that she had not asked Aragorn to balm it, but their leader's worries laid elsewhere. They had already stopped to take care of Frodo's injuries on the way, discovering his Mithril chainmail in the meantime, and had pressed on after that. The guards led them deeper into the forest until they came upon a stream. The Celebrant's waters were dark, running fast and steady. Frances had never seen such a color, but she wondered if the strange silvery light that passed through leafless trees was the cause of it. Haldir, long hair flowing in the slight breeze, threw a high-pitched whistle in the air. On the other bank, another elf showed up. His garments matched those of the marchwarden, grey cloak over greenish tunics and breeches. It probably was one of the reasons the company had not seen them in the first place. Haldir exchanged a few gestures with his peer, and he turned back to them.

- "We will cross here, but do not set foot in the waters for they are very cold this far north."

On the other side of the river, the elf threw them a thin rope attached to a great tree. Haldir secured it on their hand, and ran across it back and forth to show them the way. Frances' jaw opened in shock. Were they expecting the company to run over a rope without falling in the waters? The current was strong, she doubted she could swim over and survive its coldness for long. Let alone the dwarf. Haldir's face did not show anything unusual, and it was Legolas who pointed out this lack of consideration.

- "I can walk this path, but what about the others? Should they swim?"

For once, Frances noted that the marchwarden looked sheepish, but who knew with this despising scowl carved into his face? Anyhow, the elves set two more ropes to create a 'safe' path. The young lady laughed in disbelief. It seemed that cultural shock was not only reserved to earth. With different races, middle earth was bound to be a very interesting place when it came to habits. Let us run across a wire, weee.

Surprisingly, she made it quite fast. Her equilibrium had always been pretty correct, and she had improved it over the years by climbing trees and walking on branches. She had in fact dedicated most of her childhood doing just that. The rope held fast, and didn't vibrate under her legs despite its lightness. In other words, if was a good old motorway... Her only distractions were the painful throbbing of her wrist, and the closeness of the Greenwood Prince who wanted to insure that each of his companions could stay safe. Since he basically weighted so little, Legolas stayed close.

Boromir walked the rope easily, surprisingly graceful for a man of his stature, and the weight of his equipment. Gimli certainly didn't make a fool of himself, but his sheer weight was enough to make her cringe. Would the ropes hold fast? What if he fell in the waters? Could they dig him out with his armor weighting him down? Finally, Gimli set foot on the other bank, and the whole fellowship released a breath. Pippin soon followed, sure footed. Sam on the other hand, was quite a handful, and the elf stayed as close as he could while the hobbit rambled about his father and walking across a stream like a spider.