"This is useless," Legolas said.
A cold breeze wafted the scent of dead fire from hundreds of feet away. He darted across the path, searching for the children. It was the King's command to find them—a pointless task, he thought. "Shouldn't we follow the Orcs by now?" he asked.
Tauriel didn't say anything. She was worried about the dwarf, rethinking about her decision to abandon her duty. She didn't want to comply the king's order, nor she wanted to go back living as a peasant. She must be careful what she'd wished for. It was not a smart choice, after all, to act against the King's wishes. Tauriel sighed.
Legolas had wanted to ask how she was, but he was too occupied with his duty. Roaming the forest in search for the children was not an easy task as he had thought. At least, he remembered their names. The kids came from the Lake-town, but to go there in a sudden might provoke the animosity between Elves and men again. They must move secretive. There was no contact between the two kinds for years—a dispute over the overlapping land had sparked the hostility between them. Legolas halted, listening to an owl's whisper. "That way," he said, running toward the narrow path. He could smell the rotten scent of the corpse closer. It was taken away a few days ago, but the stain of dried blood was still visible.
Tauriel kept her eyes on her feet, thinking about the attack. There had to be a better way out than telling Legolas everything. She closed her eyes briefly, taking a deep breath as she prayed for the dead. It's not my fault, she told herself. She stiffened when Legolas looked at her. Their eyes met, and she turned away. The secret caused her an unspeakable pain, but she couldn't say it out loud. It would destroy everything between them. Her legs felt heavy as they sauntered along the river. The water was too murky to see through the riverbed—like her heart that was invisible to him. She must confess. "I—" She lost her voice. She was ashamed of her own ambition. It's not real, she thought. Her hands were trembling and cold as Legolas stared at her.
He took her hands in his and breathed warm air on them. "It's too cold for the summer, I know. Just go back if you need some rest," he said.
A poisonous thought seeped into her mind in a sudden—kill the King. She shook it off immediately. It was a horrendous thought that permeated her mind lately. There was no way she would kill her King, but her desperation played a trick on her. She must confess. "I—," she said, again her word was lost. A preposterous dream to be with the prince, she kept telling herself. She's not worthy and they weren't meant to be. Their Worlds drifted apart from the beginning. Tear filled her eyes and she wiped it away.
"The town is not far, but you can go back now if you want to," he said.
She was overcome by fear so she kept silence. It was almost the nightfall. The light had already died down at the horizon. The expression on her face was intense. She bid her lips and shook her head. "I'm fine, my lord."
An owl whispered again to lead their way through the forest. "Then let's go," he said. Legolas pretended not to notice the tension between them.
Tauriel staggered as she tried to keep up with Legolas. She wanted to cry, but she couldn't. It's better that she suffered alone. I don't want your compassion, she screamed in silence. She thought about the King. He was right— She's not his equal. Her head knew that, but her heart said otherwise.
There was a cracking sound of branches behind them. They turned back and, in the serenity of the forest, they saw a black shape hidden behind a tall spruce—a growl as a greeting. And then followed by silence, the figure disappeared like a morning mist chased by the sun.
A wolf? Legolas thought. No, it's too tall. Maybe a deer? He narrowed his eyes. Again, it's too slow. But what was it? He glanced over his shoulder as he continued walking. He still held Tauriel's hand as they passed the edge of the forest. Legolas slowed down on purpose. He had wished this moment to be forever, but forever—for her—last for only an hour. By the time they reached the end of the forest, Tauriel let go of his hand, looking away as if he was nothing. There's something wrong with her —Something had changed. His heart felt heavy. Maybe Thranduil was right. She's not for him. It's pointless to go after someone who doesn't love you, Thranduil had said once.
"But is it sensible to let someone go although we love them?" he asked him.
"Sometimes we let them go, not because we don't love them, but because we do," Thranduil replied. "One day, you will understand."
Those words clung to his heart every day, but he had not known the true meaning of them—not until he met her. Recently, he became uncertain about his feeling. At one point, he wanted to follow his father's wish, marrying a princess, but he knew that would go against his own will. There was no compromise in between and he didn't know what the best was.
"You were destined from the beginning to be a great king," Thranduil had said.
"I was destined from the beginning to suffer for this duty," Legolas replied. "I wish I could pass down the power to others. I do not know where I am going with this burden."
"You have no choice therefore you cannot follow your wish," Thranduil said coldly. "Accept your destiny and it will lead you to a greater path."
Legolas sighed, contemplating about his father's words. He looked at Tauriel for a long moment. I should let her go, he thought. It must end soon, this feeling. It hurts so much that I cannot bear it anymore. His heart shattered. He was bleeding inside as he succumbed to the truth. Happiness, for him, seemed to last like a flame of a candle, existing for a brief moment, fulgent in a blink of an eye and disappears in the ash.
As they walked toward the skyline, the color of the crescent sun at the horizon gradually changed to gradient purple. The lonely mountain was ahead of them, but it was not their destination. The town —looked like an islet to him—laid there where the sky and the land ended. The outline of the town became more visible as the moon rose higher. In the dreamlike moment, he imagined about them, being together forever and ever. He wanted the time to stop. Legolas would trade everything he had possessed for the everlasting fantasy. But it was impossible to live in the dream forever—he must wake up.
When they reached the village, the sun had already set. Sigrid's house stood in the dark, watching them in silence with its watchful eyes as they arrived at the front yard. Legolas felt like an intruder, although, in fact, he knew he was. As he worked his way into the darkness of the front porch, he tripped over a bucket. He grabbed it in time before it would smash on the floor— no sound. Legolas rubbed his nose. The air smelled filthy after the rain— of mud and fish. A flower's odor from an incense was in the air as well, jasmine, he recalled. Then he heard some chats, coming from behind the house.
The boy sat on a chopping block and his sister crouched down on the ground.
"Wait for me here," Legolas said and Tauriel nodded.
Sigrid lifted her head when Legolas came out from the hidden place. He greeted them with his beautiful smile that captured Sigrid's heart. She lowed her eyes as if she didn't see him and she blushed. Bain got up to his feet. He froze like a stone.
"You, again," Sigrid said in a sardonic tone.
Legolas bowed.
"What is it that you want?" Bain asked.
"Just some information." Legolas raised his both hands up as he approached them. "I come in peace."
"About what? The dead man?" Sigrid said.
"That is none of my business," he said, eyes on Sigrid. "A group of dwarves has escaped from our prison. Did you see them when you were at the river junction?"
Bain shook his head. "I've never met any real one." He looked behind his shoulder. "I met some fake dwarves in a circus last year. Is that what you're after?"
"Or course not," Sigrid replied. "He said they just escaped from his prison cell."
"Right, right." Bain scratched his neck. "But why they need to run away from you?"
"Good question," Sigrid said.
"They intruded into the King's forest," Legolas said.
"So did we," Sigrid said and Bain rolled his eyes.
"Are you coming for us too?" Bain asked.
"If you want to spend sometimes in jail, then I can arrange a cell for you." Legolas laughed lightly before stroking Bain's head. "I'm kidding. Do not be afraid of me."
Sigrid lifted her chin. "We don't trust strangers easily," she said, "especially, those who attacked us."
"I am so sorry for what happened. I didn't mean to hurt you."
"It's not you, but that woman pulled my sister's hair." Sigrid pointed her finger to the front porch. "And yes, I can see her although she's trying really hard to hide."
"She tried to protect your sister from the attack," Legolas said.
They became silence briefly.
"Jensen is dead," Sigrid said. "We found him in the forest."
"Who?" Legolas asked.
"The Master's son."
"What happened?" he asked.
"He was slain by a long blade like the one you're carrying." Sigrid paused for a long time before continuing. "They said you killed them."
"I didn't. I swear on my grandfather's grave."
"Someone in your army?"
"If they did, I would have known." Legolas shook his head.
"It's strange that someone want to frame the Elves," Sigrid said.
"Where is the body?"
"At the Master's house. They took him there."
"Can I take a look at him?" he asked.
"You mean, in a secretive way?" she said.
Legolas nodded.
"There is a hole in the rooftop," Bain said. He and his sister stared at each other. "I think you can sneak inside from there."
Legolas sat down. "I will need your help. Can you lead the way?"
"No, I'll ask my father first," Bain said.
Sigrid frowned. "We don't need to tell him anything," she said. "He will refuse to help for sure."
"Where is him now?" Legolas said.
"At a slaughterhouse in the town. He's working there," Sigrid replied, "but we don't need him. I can go there by myself. I'll lead the way." She rolled up her sleeves.
"We don't need to help him," Bain raised his voice. He shuddered.
"He helped us before. It would be ungrateful not to help him." Sigrid said. "He's our friend. We can't just leave him."
"You are so unpredictable. Do you know that?" Bain said.
"Friend?" Legolas said. He moved his head side to side.
"Yes, you are my friend." Sigrid offered her hand.
Legolas was hesitated for a moment and he took her hand. Legolas nodded.
"My name is Sigrid. My father is Bard, the Bowman. This is my brother, Bain." He touched his shoulder. "Write our names down in your notebook. Write them down with capital letters and never forget."
"I won't," Legolas said.
"S-i-g-r-i-d," she said, spelling her name out loud for him.
"And L-e-g-o-l-a-s," he replied with a bright smile. Legolas pointed his thumb to his chest.
"And last name?" she asked.
"We don't have last names, but you can call me Legolas Thranduilion. It means Legolas, the son of Thranduil."
"Is that your father's name?" Sigrid asked.
Legolas nodded.
"Sounds awesome," Bain said. "I hope he's also kind like you."
Legolas grimaced. "Not so much. What can I say?" And he grinned. "He is more—indifferent."
"So is our father." Sigrid grinned. "Doesn't mean they don't have any feeling. They hide it well," she said.
"Yes," he said, "or perhaps they don't have any feeling anymore after years of hiding in the dark."
"They turn into stone?" Sigrid asked.
"Yes," he said again. "And we should learn from them."
"Maybe we shouldn't. It's not worth living if we can't feel anything." She said.
"Or maybe it's not worth if we feel too much," Legolas said. "And who's this Jensen exactly?"
"He was infamous around here. Jensen was a drunkard. He's always getting into fights. A couple of years ago he burned the wood—your father's wood," Sigrid explained.
Legolas remembered the fire, the turmoil of the lands that had sparked the animosity for humans in his father's heart. It was one of the most disastrous fires in the history. The burning took away a quarter of Mirkwood into ashes. Thranduil grew tired of everything lately and the conflagration was the last straw. And he hid in the dark as he had grown older and older. Every day he sat on the throne, waiting for the World to end so that he could reunion with his wife in death.
"It's forbidden to burn down the forest. It was our agreement," Legolas said. "Why he did it?"
"For pleasure, maybe? How would I know that? Jensen was mad at everything. He's like a walking bomb, a person who had no respect for anybody or anything."
"My father was furious about the fire," Legolas said. "If he knows Jensen did it, he would march here himself to confront the Master."
"He has a good reason for that," she said, " and maybe he'd already known."
Sigrid and Bain exchanged a wry smile. "And that's why Jensen was killed."
"No, I don't think so." He leaned forward. "My father is an honourable man."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to insult your father," Sigrid apologized. It was hard to unravel the mystery around Jensen's death. And Sigrid randomly guessed. Eru only knew who had killed him. "What will happen now? Are you going to tell your father?" She stood up to face him.
"Eventually, yes. But now, I must see Jensen's body first," he said, "and then I'll decide what to do next."
Sigrid nodded.
Without waiting for Bard to return, Sigrid and Legolas set off in the dark to the Master's house. It was cold and dark outside, but they must be hurried. The body would be buried in the graveyard in the town hall the next morning. They might dig it up, but it would take too much time for Legolas. He, too, was in a hurry to finish his business in Esgaroth. Exhuming the body is not the priory goal, he reminded himself.
"Did you know him before?" she asked Legolas.
"Jensen? No, of course not," He replied. "Why did you ask?"
Sigrid looked at him, sharp-eyed.
He gave up at last, annoying with her stare. "I met him once. He came to deliver red wine for my father. We didn't talk so I don't consider knowing him personally."
"It's strange that you didn't seem to be surprised that he's dead."
Legolas shrugged. "He deserved to die after all."
"And who is the next one?" Sigrid asked.
"I don't know what you're talking about. Now, you suspect that I am the killer?"
"I didn't say that."
"Your eyes say that," Legolas said, "and no, whether you believe it or not. I didn't do it."
As they walked past a small alley, Sigrid looked to the sky. It was a starry night, too romantic to make an accusation of the murder. She giggled as Legolas was nervously trying to defend himself. I believe you, she thought but kept it to herself.
"How many people have moved into the forest," he asked.
"I have no idea. Probably four or five new settlers as I heard. There's maybe more. We are starved to death here so people are moving out elsewhere."
"Not into the forest, please. My father will turn livid if he knows."
Maybe they will move to the mountain instead if there is no dragon," Sigrid said. "There are plenty of mountain goats to hunt."
Legolas sighed. "The dragon, yes. But it's his place now and I don't think it is right to just kick him out. Where's he going to live? There's no land left for the dragon."
"Just get rid of him," she suggested.
"That's cruel."
"What? I thought everybody hates the dragon," Sigrid asked surprisingly.
"Between you and me, all right?" Legolas smiled shyly. "I hate killing animals."
"Me neither," she giggled. "But why are you pretending to hate it?"
"As a prince I need to act as if I am a ruthless warrior. I cannot show any sympathy." He dropped his head into his palms and then he sighed. "I wasn't born cruel, but I was made."
"That's so dull. Please, don't pretend to be something you're not."
"You don't understand." He looked up to face her.
She didn't look away. "No, I don't," she said. "It's beyond my humble knowledge to understand the Prince's sophisticated mind. The only thing I know is deep down inside he's kind and sweet. But he keeps his distance from others—not because he's a ruthless warrior as he portrays—but because he's too afraid." She wanted to hold him by the arm, but she withheld herself. It was an inappropriate move for a lady—although she's not. Sigrid arranged her frizzy hair with her fingers and then she lifted her head high as she walked. She's not afraid of showing her feeling as much as him.
He walked after her in silence, contemplating of what to say next.
"Eru only knows whether there has life after death," she said, "so embrace life. Make it worth living. Don't waste your time acting as if you're somebody else."
"Why?" he asked.
"Because life is too precious to be wasted away with those nonsenses," she said. "And I like the real you more,"
And he blushed.
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