the trees are speaking

          “That surely would be a brilliant solution! In that way, those who dislike meat can decide not to take it! Of course, we need to cook enough meat for everybody still, as I’m sure some of us would like an extra portion. Of course, the same goes for the vegetables.”    He himself didn’t mind it, but he wouldn’t leave the meat. There would be no leftovers, he was sure of it. The thought of it already caused his stomach to rumble, and a small pout formed upon his features.    “Well, we better make that stew sometime soon, as now I’m craving it!”

They were all hungry for something more. More than what could be kicked up from the dirt or plucked from a tree. Something more tasteful than the lembas bread that had been keeping them going thus far. But better meals were meant for better times, and until they knew Frodo had completed his task, theirs was not complete either. 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY LOVE !!   I just wanted to stop by to say how much I adore you as a person and appreciate you as a partner. I love our thread and we should have a hundred more. I hope that your birthday is just as brilliant and wonderful as you are. You deserve all the best. Here’s to another year, sweet elf prince. 

          No brothers. How unlucky for him, then. Her own brothers had been the light of her life. Brave Brandon, always fighting for her, defending her. Noble Ned, always the voice of reason, sacrificing everything so she could have a life. Baby Benjen, sweet and fair, always happy, always laughing. Maybe they had had some other sister, some other reckless girl who had run off and ruined everything. Maybe they had had no sister at all. 

          For a moment, Lyanna thought how difficult it must be to have a sister, to have someone one must constantly worry for and chase after. But not all sisters were like her. His sister sounded a fair measure more dignified than she had been (not a difficult goal to attain). Whoever she was, out in a mountain kingdom, some far off land, they had something in common. It was a small comfort to feel momentarily less alone in the world, to know that there were other people like her, at least in some respects. A brief attempt at a smile as she returned his gaze. His eyes were impossibly bright. “She must miss you terribly, then.”

“I know she does. In fact, I believe that she makes a point to remind me of just how long I have been away every time I visit.” Not that Legolas ever intentionally stayed away for years at a time. It was just that the elven prince lived a different life, one that often took him far away from her. “I miss her terribly as well. Unfortunately, this separation is the price both of us have paid in order to be with the ones that our hearts desire the most.”

         “Well perhaps we can find a few things that would go well with the other ingredients, as long as everyone else likes them. Perhaps some rabbit, or even duck can be good. Of course such can be added later, if some don’t like it with their meal.”    It actually had been quite a while since he had a stew with meat that was caught out in the woods. Usually they had gone for something more easier, like chicken or pork.

          “Well, we can always put in some potatoes, but they do have to fit the meal. Perhaps some small ones will do, just for Sam!”   For his friend held a love for them, and he himself was quite fond of them as well. Although he did enjoy mushrooms more.   “Carrots are indeed often put in stews! They are an easy and tasty ingredient, so it’s often added.”

     If anything, he could always change up the stew for the other’s liking, simply to give him a stew he would like. There were many ingredients which he could add or simply replace with others, as stew would work in many different ways – as long as there were enough ingredients all together.   “Venison and onions could both work! In fact, we can add many other ingredients – anything you would like!”

          She couldn’t say she knew the story herself, but the Northern woman made a note to look it up. It certainly explained the bannermen– although they could have been marching off to do battle. That was the part of the tapestry that tugged at a loose thread on her heart, the part that made her think of Winterfell. In Dorne, she could have gone many days without feeling that prick, that small, endless bleeding for home. There wasn’t much in the desert that brought to mind red leaves and white bark and black stone quite the way that this tapestry did. It occurred to her that perhaps she had been looking for too long, that maybe she was boring her companion, but it seemed a small price to pay to feel close to something so far from her reach. It wasn’t just an ocean that kept her from home. 

          “Do you have brothers, my lord?” Lyanna turned to look at him finally, trying to imagine a row of blond men like himself. “Perhaps sisters?” She wondered, not for the first time, if there was a word for missing a place that no longer existed. Much like this tapestry painted an image of a time long past, Lyanna was certain that Winterfell was no longer how she remembered it. 

Those bannermen were not always made of thread and cloth. There was a time when they were made of flesh and bone. Men with names, homes, families, and wills of their own. Reasons to follow that doomed horse and its rider into the field of battle, charging to the aid of those who had asked for it. Now they were just another piece of a long history. Many of them forgotten in name but remembered in still remembered in ways such as this.

     The talk about his home and the question about the stew certainly helped him to calm down and forget about all the horrible things which had passed already. It certainly made him feel somewhat at home, though without the cozy hole in the ground, and the smell of freshly baked treats, and the sound of rustling grass. Yet certainly, for a moment, it was all fine now.   “Well, that would depend on what you like, and what would grow! Probably something with mushrooms, as mushrooms are always good in a stew. And how about some other vegetables? Of course, it would need some meat as well, like pork!”

❝ I see… ❞

He sighs almost. He was disappointed, that much was clear from his face. Though one quick look around and he could have been saved the feeling. He didn’t like this place. It may have once been home to dwarves. a grand place, even (he only makes the assumption due to Gimli’s precious excitement). But, it was that place no longer. Fowl things lurked in these mines. Whether they always had was not something he was sure of, but they were here now. Gollum was certainly here.

Feeling the hand no longer on his shoulder Frodo looked up at the elf, shaking his head at the apology and giving a sort of apologetic look of his own.

❝ No. It’s not you that startles me, it’s this place. I-… ❞

He paused, pondering a moment. Should he share what he’s seen? Share his knowings of Gollum who lurks in the darkness around them? What good would it do… And Legolas is an elf, keen and wise as they are, already he must be aware of the creature that follows them. So perhaps there is nothing to be done. Frodo sighs once more.

❝ It makes me uneasy. ❞

“It makes all of us uneasy.”

Even the dwarf, who had been so insistent that they come this way, so excited to enter the mountain and see his kin again, was beginning to feel the same nervousness that plagued the rest of them. Whatever glory this kingdom had held once before had been lost long ago, and now it only felt wrong, as if the very stone beneath their feet were somehow plotting against them.

Were there any way for them to turn back, Legolas would have already done so, willing to risk the wrath of the Watcher lurking in those dark waters to simply be in the open air again.

Gaze shifting away form the hobbit, the elf took a moment to look up at their eerily quiet surroundings. Normally bright blue eyes flickering between one unseen thing and another.

          It was beautiful work. She had never seen anything like it, really. They wove tapestries in the North, of course, but nothing on quite such a grand scale. It was ambitious to fit so much onto one wall. Most of the tapestries of her youth– the ones Lyanna could remember– had focused entirely on wolves. Everything was snow and wilderness. This was no such scene. This held men and horses, great structures and far-reaching plains. They were brighter, somehow. Shining. 

          The Northwoman didn’t turn when she became aware of Legolas’ presence. He was a handsome man, to be sure, but nothing quite so incredible to behold as what adorned the walls. “Only what I’ve read in books,” she answered, grey eyes still making study of thread. “They didn’t mention much about craftsmanship. The use of color is fantastic. When you look closely, it’s never what you would expect it to be.” The same could be said of many things in life, and that’s what she liked most about it. These tapestries were an accurate reflection in more than one way. 

          “What’s this one’s story, do you know?”

“I do.”

A simple answer, given to her as the elf closed the remaining distance between them. Long strides carrying Legolas forward until he was standing next to the strange woman. Head tilting upwards so that the two visitors could take in the finely crafted details of the tapestry together.

It was hardly a surprise that this particular one had caught her attention first. It was one of the largest, and arguably oldest, in the hall. Though you could hardly tell there was any wear to it. Even years after its creation the carefully threaded scene still sprang to life before their eyes. Its colors bright enough to think that they could shine in the light.

          “And we are happy to join you, despite the circumstances, of course.”   For he was not happy about the reason why they were all going on this journey, though certainly he understood that this journey was needed, and that their part was important as well. Although certainly, he longed for home as well.   “I am glad that everyone longs for home, or at least a part of it. But, once we will get home, I will make sure everyone gets a bowl of stew!”

     Confusion would strike him whenever one would say that they would forget to eat – never would a Hobbit forget something so important! A passion it could be called, and one who would leave a meal would immediately have someone call them a doctor.   “Well, it is a good thing that we Hobbits have come along, as we will remind him whenever we will have a meal ourselves! It certainly is a shame, though. I often wish we could have some stew like at home instead of an apple.”

𝓞𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓪 𝓖𝓻𝓮𝓶𝓵𝓲𝓷 :

this man is clearly deluded, perhaps out of a need to convince himself he has some sort of power — something the masked man in turn was woefully familiar with. however, it seemed foolish and devolved to stoop to denial when reality was at forefront, always. it was better to be consumed by bitterness than wallow in hope.   ❝    how fortunate for you. do you make a habit of telling all the DAMNED that you have a choice whereas they do not?   ❞

     Though his mouth was full, he tried to show a big grin nonetheless, some juice spilling from his lip, though he quickly rubbed it off using his sleeve. Then, as he swallowed, he spoke again.   “Well, it is most important to eat, especially on the road! Take it from us Hobbits! Although, I must agree… I have not seen Aragorn have something to eat since last time we had dinner.”

          “Then please, have one! We have plenty of our own – you could even have two!”   And so he handed the other one of the apples from the basket, before he himself took another bite of his own.