To refrain from asking too many questions he settled for sneaking glances at her across the crackling fire. He was undoubtedly intoxicated by her appearance. She had changed so much. She was always toned and strong, but now her figure was even more defined. Each muscle was perfectly carved, like the sacred statues of the great Elvish Warriors. Her face, while still radiating unmeasurable beauty, had aged, faint lines rest beneath her eyes. This was uncommon for Elves, for such aging would take place over thousands of years. To him, these marks symbolized wisdom and experience, something that enticed him greatly. However, the element that sparked the most curiosity within him was her hair. Her hair which use to hang past her waist in silky, elegant curls and braids, was now bluntly cut just below the collar bone, with no braids.
Braids in the Elven culture were symbolic of nobility, grace and honor.
Honor, he thought, what did he know of that.
As she sat, across the fire, sharpening her blades, she refused to look in his direction. If it were not for the dreadful storm and lurking orcs, she would have left as soon as she had arrived; However, as much as she convinced herself this to be true, something in her was grateful for threats.
Gimli and Aragorn sat side by side, dining on a small rabbit like creature they captured in one of the alleys. As they eat, they shared mutual glances of confusion and interest, yet neither questioned the two elves.
“M’Lady, Would you care for a leg?” He mumbled through a mouth full of rabbit meat, offering a leg to her.
“I do not eat meat, but thank you for the offer.” She said.
Gimli let out a booming chuckle, “Ha! Don’t eat meat! Lass, let me tell you, you are missing out on one of the few pleasures of this world.”
“Well, if that’s true, I would hate to take away such joy from you, dwarf. You look like you could use a little excitement considering your company.” She said with a grin.
Gimli erupted in laughter, “Ha! I like you, lassie! You are a far more enjoyable elf than our princess over there” he said gesturing to Legolas, who was leaning against a wall, re-stringing his bow.
She looked over to him and caught his eyes just for a second before he looked away.
Silence fell over the group, the only sound was that of the storm and Gimli’s chewing. Aragorn looked between the two and finally cleared his throat.
“I just realized, I never properly thanked you for saving my life today.” He said, absent mindedly touching the bindings beneath his tunic, “Thank you...?”
“Y/N” She said, bowing her head to him with a warm smile.
“Y/N...” Aragorn said, tilting his head at the familiar name.
“Y/N,” Gimli echoed, “I’ve heard that name before, passed around by the tongue of man and dwarf. They say he be the King’s prodigy warrior, who was exiled for a stolen relic of the royal family. Some say the King framed the poor bastard himself, was afraid he’d try and over throw the throne or some shit one day. Ha! Nay, but that was just an old wives’ tale we told the Wee- Laddies to scare ‘em from stealing rum.”
Aragorn stared at him in utter embarrassment while Gimli licked his fingers clean. When he was done, Gimli looked around the room to see the creatures staring at him.
“What?” He said.
“Gimli, the elf of which you speak sits in your company.” Aragorn mumbled, after a beat.
Gimli’s eyes widened in horror as he looked at Legolas, “Laddie! I had no idea!”
“He does not speak of me, Gimli.” Legolas said dryly, his gaze falling on Y/N.
Now Gimli was in a full panic, his hands covered his mouth. “OOO, M’Lady! My sincerest apologizes, I always thought that story to be a wee bit dramatic myself and the ladd- lass, sorry, certainly was no thief-“
“It’s alright, Gimli.” She said silencing him.
After a moment, Legolas stood, “The storm has calmed, I’m going to scout the area while there is still the cover of the moon.” He left the hall quickly.
The room once again fell silent. Gimli stood and walked over to Y/N, resting a hand gently on her shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Lassie. I meant no offense truly.” He said softly.
She looked at him with a sad smile, “How could I be upset when you had no knowledge of whom I was? All is forgiven, my friend.”
She stood and walked towards a window that over looked the barren hills that surrounded the small, forgotten village.
“Is it true?” Aragorn spoke, disrupting the unnerving silence.
She turned to face him.
“The story. Is it true?” He repeated with a tone of pure, innocent curiosity.
She looked to the dusty, stone floor and then back out the window, a sorrowful look contorted her dimly lit face.
“No.” She finally said, her eyes gazed out the window, as if she were seeing the past she’d tried so hard to bury for the first time.
