A “Post War of the Ring” Starter for @omniphrenia‘s Prince Faramir
(and also for @daniwrit‘s Lady Eowyn because I love y’all both!)
Anytime Prince Faramir visits the gardens of his home in Emyn Arnen, Legolas inevitably finds him. The Elf looks nearly the same as the day they first met, his youthful face unlined despite the trials of War and the subsequent six years he has spent invigorating Ithilien's gardens with new life (much work was needed, yes, but perhaps Legolas has also been taking his time, now that he finally can). Only his braids give away his age, looser and more indulgent now that he no longer rides into battle.
Even so, the Sindar Prince is still as light of foot as ever, his approach uncannily silent until he gives voice to his presence at Faramir's shoulder. "--- Commander." Legolas greets, warmth and welcome in his tone. The Elf holds a small clutch of trimmed hyacinths in his hand. As he speaks, he leans past the Prince of Ithilien to prune stalks of lavender from the low shrubs lining the path, hands slim and deft in action. "I'm pleased to see you this day...Walk with me?"
Legolas does not wait for the Lord's agreement, but turns towards the south-facing wall and leads the way beneath staggered rows of flowering apple trees. From overhead, Greenleaf plucks sprigs of apple blossoms, tucking the pale pink blooms between the hyacinths and the lavender, steadily assembling a bouquet. When they emerge from the grove, there are bluebells waiting, and the Sindar Prince adds those as well to his arrangement.
"I have also had the pleasure of seeing Lady Eowyn this day..." He says conversationally, sliding a bright-eyed glance from the flowers to Faramir's face as they walk. There is an expectancy about the Elf, as if seeking some manner of realization from his companion. When nothing comes, Legolas exhales a soft breath and schools his features into pleasantness.
(Were Aragorn here, he would immediately recognize it as a tell to mark the Sindar Prince's exasperation. It is fortunate, then, that he is not present.)
"-- Here." Greenleaf says at last, sans explanation, and stops in the middle of the path to bundle the small bouquet of vibrant flowers into Faramir's unsuspecting hands, "...I think it would be best if you made a gift of these. To your Lady."
Legolas does not follow up this statement with any reasoning why, as is his way. But the Elf's expression is intent with meaning, eyebrows lofted nearly to his hairline. Faramir, it suggests, you walk upon thin ice in your own River.
