Scars of the Past

By Andraste

CHAPTER I – CONCERNED HOBBITS

"Mr. Frodo? Mr. Frodo?" Sam said, waving his hand in front of the hobbit's face to get his attention. Frodo blinked and looked at him.

"Yes, Sam?"

"Supper's ready, Mr. Frodo, and I was wonderin' if you could go and get everyone. The pot still needs to be supervised so it doesn't boil over." Sam blushed slightly, feeling odd that he had asked his master a favour.

"Certainly, Sam," Frodo said with a smile. He pulled himself up, a little reluctant to leave the heat of the fire. He found Gandalf, Boromir, Aragorn, and Gimli sitting together, smoking their pipes. They seemed to be in quite a pleasant mood. "Sorry to interrupt, but supper is ready."

"Thank you for telling us, Master Baggins. We'll be there in a moment," said Gimli heartily. He took a final drag from his pipe then put it out and stuffed it back in his pack. The others did the same.

Frodo looked at them all and realized he was forgetting someone. He counted four putting out their pipes, three hobbits around the fire, himself... He felt a shiver of guilt not knowing all the members of the Fellowship yet, but they had only been travelling for a week and had plenty of time still to learn about each other. For now, Frodo needed to know who would be missing dinner.

"Aragorn, where is Legolas?" Frodo asked, finally realizing who it was that may have starved.

Aragorn glanced around then pointed towards the edge of the camp. Frodo thanked him and trudged through the damp grass towards the Elf.

"Legolas, supper is ready," he said quietly, for some reason a little nervous.

"I'm not hungry, thank you," Legolas replied coolly.

"Oh. Alright, then. I can get Sam to save some of it for you if you'd like?"

"No, that's all right," said the Elf.

"Alright." Frodo left Legolas to his solitude. Out of all the members of the Fellowship, Frodo knew the least about the Elf. Legolas rarely spoke to anyone, ever; he never joined them for meals; he appeared almost dangerous in his furtiveness, but there was a sadness about him that was so subtle, yet overpowering, that the assassin side of him was the side most preferred to see. The hobbit quickly returned to the warmth of the fire. Sam handed him a bowl of stew, identical to the ones the others held.

Throughout the meal Frodo paid little attention. He couldn't help but stare at the shadowed figure at the edge of the camp. Even from a distance, Legolas appeared as an assassin; thin, tall, and solitary.

"Aragorn," Frodo began in a distant voice, eyes still focused on the Elf, "Why is Legolas so… secret?"

The light conversation stopped. Aragorn set his bowl down and thought for a moment. "What do you mean, Frodo?"

"Why doesn't Legolas ever talk to anyone or eat with us?"

Aragorn sighed. "He is a very... untrusting individual. His past is full of tragedy. I don't feel it is my place to say much more."

Everyone turned to glance at Legolas, who still stood silently in the shadows, then turned back to their meal. An awkward silence fell over them until Gandalf suggested they get some sleep.

"Mr. Frodo?" Sam asked, turning again under his blanket, unable to sleep.

"Yes, Sam?"

"I'm sorry if I woke you, Mr. Frodo."

"You didn't. I can't seem to get to sleep. What's on your mind, Sam?"

"Just what Strider said earlier about Legolas and all. I never thought an Elf could be like that, since you brought it up, Mr. Frodo. Legolas is awfully quiet and has a dangerous air about him. I've talked to him once or twice and he never replies much. It's like talking to a statue. And have you noticed he never removes his bow from his shoulder? He's always armed and that frightens me some, Mr. Frodo; along with his eyes. They're as icy as his voice. The Elves from Rivendell were nothin' like that. They were pleasant and sang songs and recited poems. I'm almost afraid of Legolas. He seems like someone who's not afraid to kill, Mr. Frodo, if you catch my meaning."

"I do, Sam. I know what you mean. But Aragorn also said that Legolas' past is not a happy one. I plan to find out more about him tomorrow, or it might pick my brain apart."

"I wouldn't want that, Mr. Frodo," Sam said with a yawn.

Frodo chuckled. "Neither would I, Sam."

"Legolas?" Aragorn said, walking up behind the Elf and standing next to him. "The hobbits wonder about you. Perhaps you could be a little less tense. They asked me about you at dinner-"

Legolas shot a sharp glance in Aragorn's direction, fear flaring in his eyes – fire against water.

"I didn't tell them anything. All I said was that you had a dark past and a good reason to be the way you are. I was hoping that you would tell them the rest, just so that the hobbits- and the rest of the Fellowship, for that matter- would understand and not worry so much about you."

"It's nothing the hobbits want to hear. No one should hear the things I've heard, Aragorn; they shouldn't see what I've seen. I think it would be best if I remained an enigma to them, for their sake," Legolas said with some compassion.

"I understand, my friend. The least you could do is join us for meals," Aragorn suggested. "I'm not saying you have to eat anything, just come and sit with us around the fire," he hastily added. He knew the idea of eating wouldn't go over well with the Elf. Legolas hardly ate; it was another scar from his past. Aragorn was the only one who knew and understood Legolas' entire story, except for, maybe, Gandalf.

"I will try to do my best as to not worry the hobbits, but I will not tell them anything and I ask you to do the same."

"Of course, Legolas," Aragorn said. A moment of silence passed them by; not an awkward silence, more of a minute of unspoken comfort.

"They open sometimes and bleed," Legolas said quietly, almost so Aragorn couldn't hear him. "They still pain me, after all these years. The memory haunts my dreams. The screams, the pain, the whips, all of it. Why won't it all just go away?"

Aragorn felt guilty that he could not supply his friend with an answer. "I don't know, Legolas."

Another moment of silence passed them.

"You should get some rest, my friend," Legolas said as he turned and rested his hand on Aragorn's shoulder. Aragorn smiled weakly then returned to his bedroll and forced himself to sleep.

"Meriadoc Brandybuck, get up!" Pippin hollered in his cousin's ear. Merry shot up with a start, a little frightened.

"What!" Merry demanded, just as loud.

"Breakfast is ready!"

"Alright!"

"Stop yellin', you two. You'll wake up Mr. Frodo."

"It's a little late for that, Sam," Frodo said, sitting up.

"Did you not sleep a wink all night, Mr. Frodo?"

"I slept a little, but not very well, I'm afraid. Where are the others?"

"They're packin' up, Mr. Frodo. Strider said he was going to scout ahead, but he should be back soon," replied Sam. He took a small sip out of the ladle he was using to stir their breakfast to make sure it was ready then announced that it was time to eat. As if on cue, Aragorn returned.

"The terrain is favourable, but there are large forests that would be ideal for… difficulties."

The hobbits' faces fell. Already they were being faced with danger after so little time. The presence of warriors such as Boromir and Gimli had given them a sense of comfort; and Gandalf being with them had given them such relief that they seemed to believe nothing would go wrong for them at all as long as he were there.

"Good morning," said Legolas suddenly. His voice was as low and icy as ever, but just to hear him speak put the Fellowship at a little more ease.

"Mornin', Mr. Legolas," said Sam with a little bit of anxiety in his voice.

There was an awkward moment of silence. No one knew what to say; they had never really talked with Legolas before.

"Would you like some breakfast, Mr. Legolas?"

"No, thank you, Sam," Legolas said, trying to smile.

The gardener looked a little hurt that someone would not want to eat his cooking. Certainly he was not the greatest chef, but due to his restrictions on ingredients, Sam thought that the meals he made were beyond decent. He was also slightly confused. Legolas hadn't eaten a thing the whole time they had journeyed. A week was a long time to go without any food; especially to a hobbit. Sam shrugged it off and emptied his bowl.

"That was very good, Sam. Thank you," said Aragorn. He seemed a bit withdrawn today, but that seemed normal to the hobbits, who had travelled with him for some time.

"Indeed it was, Samwise," added Gandalf. He handed his empty bowl to Sam with a small smile then glanced at Legolas. When they all stood, the wizard approached the Elf. "May I speak with you for a moment, Legolas?"

"Of course, Mithrandir."

Gandalf walked with him to where Legolas often stood. The hobbits were still packing up their things so they would have some peace for a while.

"Legolas, I'm worried about you. I haven't seen you since you returned to Mirkwood."

The Elf flinched at the memory.

"You're not sleeping or eating and that's not good for your health, my friend. I understand why you don't, but eating a little bit at the odd time would do you good. So would some rest."

"Even if I tried I could never sleep. I have tried, Mithrandir, but the memory haunts me even while I rest. I will never rid myself of it and I've learned to accept that."

"Aragorn tells me that your wounds still open on occasion. Is this true?"

Legolas nodded. "Not for any specific reason, though. They'll just split and bleed for awhile."

"Mr. Gandalf, Mr. Legolas! You comin'?" called Sam from the other edge of the camp.

"In a moment, Samwise!" replied the wizard. He turned back to Legolas and said, "If anything happens I want you to tell me immediately."

"Of course, Mithrandir."