~ Wynne tries to be useful, and gets to know Legolas better. ~

9. One of the Team

Wynne woke early the next morning. Nobody else was up, so after checking on the horses she decided to make breakfast to everyone. She was tired of lembas and figured it was her turn to provide for a change. Unpacking her pots and utensils, she cooked oatmeal porridge, made sweet mint tea and poured round crackers on a plate. Rohan hardtack was rougher and harder than lembas, but dunked in tea it wasn't too bad.

The smell of food got the elves moving. Pale and trembling they shuffled out of their tents.

"Ai Nodi, you had the last watch. How come you are not up?" Bronedir shook his brother who lay curled up behind their tent.

"Can you keep your voice down?" he whined, slowly pushing himself into a sitting position. "It was nearly morning anyway. I figured I could risk a brief rest."

"This will not do; we are on a serious mission." If Thranduil was hungover it didn't show. "No more drinking for now."

"But I never had a chance to try the sugar beet wine," Galion complained.

"Trust me, you are better off without it." Legolas had dark lines under his blue eyes, but strangely enough it didn't make him any less attractive.

Wynne served the simple breakfast, and despite their condition the elves ate with a fairly good appetite. She received many compliments on the pleasant variation in diet.

"I have not had tea in ages," said Legolas, blowing on his mug. "I met hobbits some years back and during our stay in Rivendell they would make it every afternoon. I do not think they used peppermint though, their variant was imported from Harad I believe."

"It's a Rohan speciality. It makes your breath nice." Wynne had missed having tea yesterday; it was such an integrated part of her morning ritual.

"If you drink fire water often I suppose you need it." He grinned.

Wynne returned it, but then her smile waned as his words caught up with her. "Did you say hobbit? You mean that hobbit?"

"Frodo Baggins, aye." He glanced at his father, looking a bit apologetic. "I was in the Fellowship of the Ring."

Hugely impressed, Wynne sidled closer. "What was Frodo like? Tell me everything." Everybody had heard the songs and tales of the hobbit; that small, brave creature who carried Sauron's evil Ring and destroyed it in the fires of Mordor. The Fellowship had escorted him part of the way – and apparently this teasing elf had been part of it? Amazing.

"He was kind and polite, and most of the time very serious. The One Ring burdened him heavily. It tortured him." Legolas' beautiful face had darkened considerably, all traces of mirth gone. Wynne had never seen him that somber before.

He was quiet for a moment, then composed himself. "He was given peace and healing in the end; now he lives out his days across the sea in Aman, the Undying Lands." There was a longing tone in his voice.

"Let us speak about something else," said Thranduil sternly, his face unusually emotionless and cold.

oOo

That day they rode in a south-western direction. Legolas explained that they would criss-cross back and forth between the Anduin and one day's ride east until they had covered as much of the western Brown Lands as possible and entirely cleansed it of orcs. There was no use continuing further east; that far from the river the ground was too dry even for orcs.

In time they would reach Emyn Muil, the southern mountains, and repeat the process there.

They were not the only ones with that task. Small parties of Southern Rangers and men from Gondor were tidying up southern Ithilien and others did the same in Harondor. Both were countries that had belonged to Gondor in the past and that Aragorn intended to unite again.

Later in the summer when they reached the Dead Marshes they might meet some of those other orc hunters. Or, formerly Dead Marshes... King Éomer of Rohan had ordered them restored and since the war his people had dug trenches and canals to drain it from its foul, haunted waters. Already a large part had been turned into fertile farmlands.

"What of Mordor?" Wynne asked.

"I am afraid it is still desolate and uninhabited." Legolas' face went sad. "When the One Ring was destroyed, Mount Doom erupted and polluted lava and ashes covered the plains. I do not think it will ever be entirely rid of the enemy's poison; even orcs still hesitate to go there. But we shouldn't talk about such dreary matters." He glanced at his father.

Wynne silently wondered why Thranduil hated that topic so much and why Legolas' seemed so tense whenever it was brought up. But she supposed he had bad memories after all he had seen during his time with the Fellowship.

oOo

They kept traveling all day without seeing anything more interesting than grass. There were no animals and thankfully no orcs or other foul creatures either. The elves seemed much more comfortable on their steeds now, and even Thranduil and his head-strong stallion had seemingly come to some sort of understanding. He allowed the meara to walk slowly and graze every hour or so and in return the horse had ceased his bucking and sudden halts.

Legolas and Stelpa had become increasingly attuned. The mare seemed almost like an extension of her rider, as if they were one being.

It was unusual to see a non-Rohirrim horse and rider so well matched and Wynne couldn't help start liking the elf a little. A person so fond of horses must be nice deep down, and besides, lately he had been a lot less teasing.

After a few hours her leg wound became sore. It was located in the worst place possible; a spot that rubbed against Vatna's flank with every step, making the stitches smart terribly.

That bloody orc! If it must stab her, couldn't it have chosen someplace less painful? An arm or foot perhaps. On a positive note, her annoyance effectively chased away her fright from yesterday.

oOo

At sunset, Wynne saw the glitter of water in the distance. They were back at the river at last.

She was glad to be able to refill the waterskins and let the horses ease their thirst. They could only manage a few days with the water they could carry.

The elves were equally satisfied to be back and didn't even have time to make camp before they had gone waist deep into the river, splashing their faces and washing their long hair with obvious bliss.

Wynne joined them, this time with no second thoughts about seducing anyone. She was just as pleased as them and even swam for a bit despite the chill. It was lovely to get rid of all dust and grit from two days of riding in dry grass.

When she came back to the shore, Nodir had caught a huge trout to everybody's delight. He had shot it with his bow which was as unusual a fishing technique as it was impressive.

It was nearly dark when they finally had the tents up and a fire burning. They shared the fish, deliciously fried by Bronedir until it had a perfectly crispy skin and its rosy flesh was juicy and savory. For vegetables Wynne had pulled up some reed roots and boiled them; they didn't taste much but were nutritious and filling.

Wynne volunteered to wash the dishes afterwards. Lately she had begun to do more to help the company. The elves were assigned the nightly watches and would do all the fighting, so taking over some of the other chores was the least she could do. She didn't like to feel useless.

Legolas followed her to the river.

"I can manage this," she protested.

"It is only to be on the safe side. There might be dangers lurking by."

At that, Wynne shuddered and made no more objections.

But would there really be monsters this close to Rohan? Surely the Rohirrim border patrols would have taken care of them. At least she hoped so...

Legolas sat on a rock and began to braid his golden hair, now dry after the bath, while Wynne worked on the greasy plates with a bar of soap. Warm water would have made it easier but it felt like too much trouble to heat it.

Her hair kept blowing in her face and she threw a longing glance at Legolas' braids. He usually wore one small fishtail on each temple and one larger braid that held part of his hair together at the back of his head. It looked both nice and functional.

It was unfortunate she was so bad at braiding her own hair. No matter how hard she tried, the result was always a mess of knots and loose strands.

"I wish I could make braids like that. I hate it when my hair falls into my eyes. Maybe I should just cut it real short."

"Nay, you must not do that." Legolas looked shocked. "Short hair on a lady is unheard of."

"I know. It would be very practical though."

"If... If you would not mind... um. I could plait it for you?"

"Really? I would love that." Wynne wondered why he looked so conscious. He had touched her bare thigh yesterday, but this was just hair.

But then, elves were strange creatures.

A/N:

Legolas' braids are so pretty. I applaud whoever in Peter Jackson's team thought them up!