Legolas's POV

At Faèola's encouragement, I helped Eda eat a watery broth. She fussed a little at first when I tried to spoon-feed her, but she gracefully demonstrated her hands were still too unsteady to ladle the soup into her mouth without it ending up down her front.

In truth, I enjoyed feeding her. A part of me was grateful that she couldn't care for herself this way, because it provided me with an opportunity to express my care for her. The shift in our relationship had been so abrupt—and yet, it came so naturally that I could scarcely believe it hadn't happened before now.

Eda didn't remain awake for long after that; she fell asleep with a full stomach and a smile on her face. I stared at her as she rested, reluctant to waste a single moment we had together, but knowing she had to recover.

I rose from the unforgiving cot, careful not to disturb her. Then, quietly, I pulled my shoes back on and left the privacy of Eda's screens. In the corner near Amina's now-empty bed, Faèola sat in a rocking chair, fingers flying over her handiwork, and tears trickling down her wrinkled face.

The all-too-fresh grief in my own heart weighed down heavily, and I swallowed. "Where is she?" I asked softly.

"Outside," Faèola replied simply, her voice pained. "Her family is saying goodbye."

I nodded, then glanced at the door, hesitating.

"Go," the healer encouraged. "It will bring you closure."

So I went.

Outside, the sun beat down hotly. The villagers wandered around as if in a daze, adults and children alike. And a woman's wailing echoed over the plain.

I followed the sound. It led me out of the village to a small hill, where a small group of people stood. Amina's body lay in an open grave, and a woman knelt at the edge, weeping uncontrollably. At the woman's shoulder stood the same boy that had fetched Faèola, and the girl that had nearly attacked me stood several feet away, carrying a wailing baby.

A short distance away from the family stood Boromir and another man, carrying spades and quietly waiting for the family to say goodbye.

Several minutes passed without change, until finally the young woman murmured, "Èolir, the baby."

The boy nodded and went to his sister, taking the newborn in his arms. Returning to his mother, he said, "Come, Mama."

Still sobbing, the woman let her son pull her up, and he led her back toward the village. He glanced at me warily as they passed, but said nothing.

The girl remained, staring at the body of her sister.

I turned, deciding the girl needed time alone, as I had. But her cold voice stopped me.

"I would speak with you."

She turned to face me. Tears had cut tracks through the dirt on her face, but her dark eyes held only anger and distrust.

"Yes?" I replied.

A long moment passed in silence. Then, turning to look at the body again, the girl said, "What was the song you sang?"

"An Elvish lulluby," I answered. I didn't ellaborate, and she didn't ask me to. I gazed at the open grave for a moment, feeling I ought to make some sort of conversation, now that that barrier had been broken. "You are her sister?"

The girl gave a bitter scoff. "I was her sister." When I didn't respond, she added, "I am Kèolyn."

"Amina mentioned you," I said. "She told me that you taught her multiplication."

Kèolyn flinched at her sister's name, then shot me a dark look. "Pray tell, how did mathematics come up between a wonderstruck child and a piece of Elf scum?"

I ground my teeth, refusing to reward the mortal with a reaction. "We were speaking of my age."

Uncertainty wavered in Kèolyn's eyes, but only for a moment. Looking away, she said, "You brought her comfort in her last moments. For this, I thank you." Her tone was clear—that was all she would thank me for.

I took that as my cue to leave.

Eda's POV

I awoke with a pit in my stomach, my mouth dry as cotton and an inexplicable fear haunting my mind.

Legolas—where was Legolas?

Suddenly feeling trapped, I gritted my teeth against the pain and kicked the blankets off. I couldn't stay here. We couldn't stay here. I slowly sat up, pain throbbing sharper with each movement. With a shuddery exhale, I settled upright on my rear.

Faèola came between the screens, frowning. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I have to get to Legolas," I gasped, attempting to stand.

"Oh no you don't!" she said, grabbing my shoulders and holding me down. "I'll get him for you, but don't you dare move."

I reluctantly nodded in agreement, and Faèola rushed out to find Legolas. I drummed my fingers on the cot, glancing around the room. I needed a tree. I'd even settle for a nice little square of dirt. Just something to tell me why I was feeling so anxious without reason.

A moment later, Legolas strode in. "Eda, what's the matter?"

"I need you to take me outside," I answered.

"Absolutely not," Faèola interjected, stepping into view. "You can't be up and around this soon. You shouldn't even be sitting up."

I turned to Legolas, whose expression was hesitant. "Please?"

He turned to Faèola. "Perhaps some fresh air would do her good? She hasn't left her bed in two days."

"Only for a few minutes," I practically begged. "I'll even let Legolas carry me."

Faèola frowned. "I see you'll not rest until you've gotten what you want. But know that it concerns me."

I eagerly extended my arms to Legolas, and he gently pulled me up against his chest. I winced into his shoulder, hoping Faèola didn't notice. Whether she did or not, she said nothing as Legolas carried me out of the little screened-in room and out of the building.

Sunshine. After Eru-knows-how-long without it, the harsh warmth felt good on my skin.

"What's going on?" Legolas murmured.

"A tree, I need to get to a tree," I whispered back.

Legolas frowned at me in confusion. "Are you in need of relief? I'm sure they have some type of facility."

I shook my head. "No, nothing like that. I just...need a tree."

Legolas glanced at me, his expression lost somewhere between amused and concerned. "I'm sorry, there aren't any trees around."

Bloody Mordor, that meant I'd have to talk to the ground again. "But there have to be trees!" I argued. "Everything's made out of wood!"

Sighing, Legolas said, "I know, and I'm sorry, but there are no trees for miles."

I let my head fall onto his shoulder dejectedly. "Alright," I mumbled. "Put me down."

"In the middle of the street?" Legolas exclaimed. He glanced around at the people pausing there work to stare at us. "Eda," he whispered, "are you sure you're alright?"

Great. Legolas thought I was losing my mind. "Just trust me, okay?" I pleaded.

He hesitated. "There's nowhere for you to sit," he said, stalling.

"Just put me on the ground," I answered. "I need to touch it."

Legolas carefully lowered me to the ground, mumbling, "Everyone's staring at us."

"Let them," I replied, stifling a short, painful laugh. As I settled onto the ground with Legolas standing over me, I placed my hand on the dirt, burrowing my fingers under the surface. "Talk to me. What's going on? Why am I scared for no reason?"

Only whispers filtered in at first, then a breath of a word... "Nortor...tùla nortor..."

"Legolas," I murmured, "does the word 'tùla' mean anything to you?"

He frowned for a long moment, then his eyes rounded and he exclaimed, "How do you know of this?"

I sighed, looking away. "Please, Legolas, just tell me what it means."

Eyeing me strangely, Legolas said, "It means 'coming'. But Eda, where did you—"

"And what does 'nortor' mean?" I interrupted.

He let his mouth stand open for a moment, until I suppose he realized I wasn't going to answer him. "Horror."

My breath hitched. "Legolas, we've got to get these people out of here."

"And go where, Eda?" Legolas snapped. "You mysteriously come out with a phrase in Ancient Quenya, and suddenly you expect these mortals to leave everything behind?"

"What would you have me do?" I shouted. "Leave these people behind and say nothing?"

"No!" Legolas shot back, equalling my volume. "I would have you tell me what in Mordor is going on, because frankly I don't even know anymore!"

"Enough," came Faèola's calm, authoritative voice. We silenced, and she looked between us with a smirk. "Well, that didn't take long. Most couples wait at least a week or two before they have their first fight."

"Couples!" I squawked indignantly.

Legolas scoffed.

"Couples," Faèola replied with a confident nod. To Legolas, she said, "Pick up your beloved and take her inside. This escapade has lasted quite long enough."

Legolas reluctantly pulled me up into his arms, but there was no affection or regard in his touch—something that irked me greatly. He made no comment about me being his beloved, but he didn't need to.

"I don't know what Elves do after a fight," Faèola said in a disturbingly smug tone, "but we humans have a post-argument tradition."

"Being what, exactly?" Legolas said curtly.

"We call it making up."

Legolas hesitated, and his head swiveled. I followed his gaze, and cantering over the hill toward the village was a large horse carrying two dirty-faced children. As the horse gained speed coming downhill, Legolas swiftly set me on my feet and jogged to intercept the quickly-moving animal.

Suddenly supporting my own weight, I winced and laid a hand over my ribs. Yeah, this one was gonna take awhile to heal.

Legolas smoothly caught the horse's rein and ran with it a few steps as it slowed. He moved to pull the children down, but the boy shook his head frantically.

"No! The wildmen, they're coming! Let us go! We must reach Edoras!"

Faèola gasped and jogged over to them. "What is this that you speak of, child? If it is as you say, we must all leave."

The villagers began to whisper, and mothers began frantically gathering their children.

Faèola pulled the children off the horse's back and led them into the house of healing. "We must get you some food," she murmured.

Legolas turned to me, a look of confusion in his eyes. "The wildmen?"

I shrugged tensely. "Tùla nortor."