I stared off into the acres and acres of trees, caressing a leaf with one hand and holding my torso with the other. The injury didn't bother me as much as it used to, but I had moved around more than what was probably wise this morning leaving me sore and, as much as I hated to admit it, tired. I closed my eyes, enjoying the warm early autumn sun on my face, relaxing against the base of the tree. I took a series of careful breaths, tasting the clean air. It had been so long.

I found myself dozing as the afternoon hours dwindled. No one came to disturb me until evening had finally set in. Footsteps, heavier than an elf's, came from my left and I opened my eyes halfway expecting to see and newly returned Estel hunting me down again to try to take me inside.

I waited as the footsteps drew nearer, softer than Estel's I realized. When my mind had memorized the man's step pattern, I didn't know. Then, from behind another tree, a woman, older by her greying hair and unsmooth skin, stepped out. She held herself high for an older woman. I wondered who she was and what she was doing in such a far-off garden.

She laid eyes on me and stopped. "Gohenno nin, hir nin, I didn't mean to disturb you."

At the sound of her speaking the Sindarin dialect, I quickly shook my head and stood, bowing my head to her. "U, my lady, gohenno nin, saes. I did not know anyone came to this place. Is it yours?"

She nodded. "Yes, the Lord Elrond granted me this garden when I moved here many years ago. I take care of it, and --" she picked the leaf of an herb "it takes care of me." She gently crushed the leaf in her hand, bringing it to her nose and breathing in its aroma.

I watched her as she placed several of the same leaves in her satchel strapped to her hip. Then she moved to a plant on the other side of me and did the same thing. She seemed distracted, but I couldn't shake the feeling of her watching me.

"Would you like to come to dinner, Lord Legolas? It is getting late."

"How do you know who I am?"

She smiled which quickly turned into a quiet laugh. She turned to me, letting the branch she had been holding swing back into its original place. "Estel has told me a good deal about you, Prince of Mirkwood, as has Lord Elrond."

I furrowed my brow. "You know them?"

She laughed again. A wholesome laugh that rang through the trees, rich and wise, as if she had seen things out in the world but had learned to find the sun amidst dead stars.

"My name is Gilraen. Estel is my son and Lord Elrond took us in after my husband was killed. Estel thinks highly of you, Lord Legolas. He says your fighting skills are above anyone's he's ever seen."

I stared at her dumbfounded. He had been the one to save me. "I didn't realize," I whispered.

She shook her head. "Of course you didn't. You've been too caught up in your own head to notice the people who care about you. All you've thought about is your duty to your country."

I crossed my arms and bit the inside of my cheek, reminding myself she didn't know the real reason. "Do you not that is what a warrior prince should do?"

She shook her hand and went back to picking herbs, seemingly unfazed by my stance. "It is, my lord. But you have forgotten the reason you became a warrior in the first place."

"Forgive me, m'lady, but I don't' see how this is any of your business."

She shrugged. "Perhaps it isn't, but you and my son will meet again in later years. You will save each other's lives in a war for the very earth on which we stand. You will learn, my prince, what is important."

I huffed. As if she could possibly understand the stress and heartache of trying to protect a kingdom under siege and the way it messes with one's mind. "Well?"

She didn't respond for a moment, bending down to pick a few more. "Well, what?"

"What do you believe I should think is important?"

She stood and gave me a sad smile. "Come," she said. "It's getting late. I will make us something to eat and we can talk about it over dinner."

I shook my head but followed her anyway as she led the way, through the garden and to a thick patch of woods. She seemed to have no trouble finding her way through the trees. It was clear that this was a woman who had done time in the wilderness and had no fear of the land beneath her feet.

After about a half hour's walk in silence, a small cabin appeared nestled beneath massive oak boughs. Leaves covered the roof and moss coated the foundation. Flowers, planted in neat rows lined the path to the wooden door, showed the care that she put into this place.

The steps creaked beneath our weight but she didn't seem to notice. The door opened with a groan and we stepped inside. Immediately the smell of seasoned meat met my nose and my appetite made itself known as my stomach growled.

She glanced back and me and smiled. I looked away and bite my lip, my ears warm.

"Why don't you take a seat," she said, gesturing to the table at the center of the room. It was a small cabin, with the fireplace nestled to the left and a stove set along the back wall. I did as she asked and she walked over to the kitchen pulling out a pot and filling it with water from the handpump at the sink.

"So," she said, setting the pot on the stovetop. "Estel tells me you are from Mirkwood."

"Greenwood, my lady. And yes, I am."

She nodded. "Right, Greenwood, forgive me. I have not been there and only once did I come close, please, would you tell me about it? I do love to hear about the outside world now that I can't be out in it."

I nodded. "It would be my pleasure. I haven't been there in years, but I will tell you of the forest. What would you like to know?"

"Tell me of the stronghold. What is it like being an elf and having to live underground?"

"It is not as bad as you might think. It is not like most mines or caves, it was designed to feel open. Water flows beneath us, but bridges were built to keep us out of it. The sound of water trickling down the rocks is always present in the main halls, giving it a tranquil feeling. Only the living quarters, which are higher in the mountain, are away from the water. Those rooms have windows cut out into the side of the mountain to keep us from feeling so trapped. My window has a tree I found in the darker parts of the forest planted under it." A pain of homesickness pricked my chest at the image of it all. How long had it been?

"It sounds lovely," she said. She held up a kettle in her hands. "Would you like some tea?"

I nodded. "Yes, please, if it is not too much trouble."

She grabbed two mugs from the wall and set them down between us. She poured us both some and sat down opposite me.

"Hannon le," I said, taking a sip. I didn't realize how chilled I had become until I swallowed the warm liquid. I hated being cold all the time. It wasn't natural.

"Do you miss it?"

I looked up, hesitating a moment before answering. "At times, yes. But I have had other things I have had to do which are more important than my homesickness."

"Hmm," she murmured. I wondered what she was getting at. "What of your people? Will you tell me of them?"

I smiled. "They are free as the wind, even under siege. Something in their fea keeps them fighting for the right to run free thougth the trees. Even my warriors, accustom to following every order and every custom, are still somehow free of mind and spirit."

"And you are not?"

The question drew me back. I studied the ridges of the table's wood. I had never thought about it. I had always done as I was told and knew everything I did had to benefit the kingdom in some way, the very reason I didn't want to be brought here. I looked up at her.

She gave me a sad smile and placed her hand on my own, giving a comforting squeeze. Then she stood, heading back over to the stone and pulling the meat out of the oven. I took another long sip of the tea. Had I forgotten the very thing that has kept my people going for so long?

Gilraen, after testing the meat, brought it over and set it at the table's center. It was a large plate, more than enough to feed both of us. She must have seen my expression because she said, "Sometimes I make a little more just in case Estel arrives home and is able to stop by."

I nodded, realizing how lonely it must be for her to live so far from everyone now that her son rarely stays with her.

She pulled out two plates from the cabinet and filled them both, placing one before me and keeping the other. It was the best food I had ever tasted. Better than anything the cooks at the stronghold had ever made and I told her so. She smiled, her cheeks turning red as she looked away.

"I do not believe I deserve such high, praise, my lord. But I think you nonetheless."

We ate in silence, the food as well as the tea warming me once more and giving me strength. I thanked her as I finished the last bite and she took my plate away.

"Why do you live so far from the others if you don't mind me asking?" I asked.

"Not at all," she said as she began washing the dishes. "I chose to live out here. I lived in villages growing up as well as on the road in my married years. Out here feels more like home than anywhere else."

I nodded. It made sense I suppose. I wouldn't want to live in the city either, not long term.

"What were you doing so far away, my lord?"

I smiled. "The same reason, I suppose. For even though the city is full of trees and gardens, there were too many elves. Too many people could be heard talking and it was harder to listen to the trees."

She seemed to nod and hum to herself for a moment as if what I had said had confirmed something she had suspected. "Did you learn anything from the trees?"

"I have never had a moment where I spoke to a tree and it didn't give me something, my lady. These trees are so different from the ones back home. They speak only of life and things that are good. It strengthened my fea."

"That is good," she said. "You will need it. Don't forget the things they spoke of, my lord. They will soon become hard to find. But those are the things that are important. Do not get me wrong, the fight to save those things is important as well, but do not let the fight get in the way of enjoying what you have worked so hard to protect."

I swallowed as her words struck home. Had I let the darkness get in so deep? I suppose I had. Ten years is a long time to stay away from home. I had thought of little else other than the fight since then. Tears sprung up in my eyes as the realization hit. I had let the fight consume me, thinking of little else even when I returned home. Then I had left my men behind, Thaladir, Dolenel, Amras, all of them. And Adar... Oh, Valar what have I done?

I buried my face in my hands as sorrow overtook me. Tears slipped from my eyes, followed by sobs that wracked my whole body. Gilrean sat down beside me, wrapping her arms around me. I was a little ashamed to cry in front of a woman I barely knew, but my mind and heart were too tired to stop.

"It's alright," she whispered in my ear. "It's not too late to make things right. You are here now and will be well soon. You will be able to go back soon."

"I left them..." I whispered. "I left them at the Inn. I don't even know if my best friend survived. Oh, Valar! Please don't let him be gone!"

She didn't answers and simply held me. The feeling was foreign but welcome. I don't remember my mother, but I wondered if this was what it felt like to have one. I cried until I had no more tears left to cry. She pulled away and I lifted my head. She smiled and wiped my tears away with the pad of her thumb.

"Come," she said, standing. "You may stay here tonight. Estel likely won't be back for a few days yet so you can stay in his old room. I doubt he'll mind. Besides I don't want you walking back by yourself tonight."

Part of me wanted to refuse. "I had already caused enough trouble, my lady, you do not have to do that."

She rolled her eyes, but a smile lit her face. "I would have thought a soldier of your standings would understand when an order is given to him."

I returned it with a small laugh, a real laugh I realized, one I haven't uttered in ages. I stood as she led the way to a small room behind where we set. It was a small room, just big enough for a bed and a small dresser in the corner. She gave me extra blankets, placed a gentle, motherly kiss on my cheek, and left me to turn in for the night.

I stared at the door even after she had gone. I didn't understand why she had taken me in the way she had, but I was more than grateful. Here, I could listen to the gentle whisperings of the trees and the nightly gossip of the crickets as I let myself sink into the embrace of exhausted sleep.