The Last Rites for Souls on Fire

Time seemed to pass all to quickly for the Fellowship, now resting somewhere in the Misty Mountains, ready and waiting for Sam to finish cooking breakfast. Faelwen and Sam seemed to be the only ones that noticed Frodo's ever-increasing self-isolation, though they both did their best to keep his spirit up. Gimli, who's insults were gradually turning into playful banter, sat arguing with Gandalf over which route the Fellowship should take. Merry and Pippin were practicing their sword skills with an almost-tolerable Boromir. Aragorn sat watching them while he smoked, extremely amused by their antics.
"Move your feet!" He shouted over to them, just before they dropped their swords and tackled Boromir.

Legolas sat with Faelwen on the edge of the camp, both of them looked outward over the landscape as they quietly spoke of their homelands.
"The trees in Mirkwood are so thick that travelers without Elven guides often get lost. Many of them wander until they run into an enemy they have not the strength to face," Legolas smiled, reminiscing, "It is wonderful once you make it to the city, though. The trees are hollowed to make our homes and stand so tall that climbing them let's you feel as if you're touching the clouds."
Faelwen took careful glances at Legolas expressions as he spoke, hiding her admiration of his features with a perfect, practised ease.
His face turned to hers, "What of your home, Faelwen?"
She looked into his grey-blue eyes in silence before turning away to face the greying skyline. She curled up her legs, wrapping her arms around them tightly and resting her chin on her knee.
"Every tree was burnt to the ground during the first War of The Ring. I led my people to kinder magic, to glorious trees and beautiful gardens. Now it's just a black scar on the earth, left by those that were once our brothers."
Sensing her distress, Legolas threaded an arm gently around her shoulders, "That must be awful. Though surely, it was once a beautiful city."
She smiled softly, "More of a village. Our numbers were greatly reduced after the rebellion against my parents."
He asked quietly, "Is that how you became the Queen?"
She looked down, "Yes. My parents, and a great portion of my people, became more twisted by the day. I couldn't allow it to continue," She paused, "I went to my once fair home before Rivendell. I hadn't been there in 3000 years and still, nothing grew. I could almost still see corpses, lining the ground. And to think it was once the most beautiful place I had ever seen."
A sad smile graced her rosy lips. Legolas didn't let it sink in that she was clearly much older than he originally thought, though she could see the curiosity in his eyes.
He squeezed her shoulders tighter, giving her a gentle smile once she made eye contact with him, "Perhaps, one day, you can come to my home, and tell me which is more beautiful."
She chuckled, leaning against Legolas ever-so-slightly, "Even if it wasn't true, I would say my home was more beautiful. Just to annoy you, mallen-finnel." (Golden-braids)
"Hannon le, nibin. Now I know you're feeling better," He grinned as he stood up, stretching his limbs and looking into the distance. (Thank you, Petty[a name for troublesome elflings])

His head snapped around, staring at a mass of black that was fast approaching. Faelwen followed his gaze, quickly placing herself on high alert.
"What is that?" Asked one of the Hobbits.
Faelwen felt her sense begin to dull. The edges of her vision became blurry as she felt the power of dark magic drawing closer. Her head began to feel tight. Soon her head was throbbing painfully, as if she had been struck by a powerful blow.
"Just a cloud," Gimli said dismissively.
"It's moving fast," mumbled Boromir, "Against the wind!"
Faelwen couldn't hear her companions. She didn't hear Legolas or Aragorn shout warnings and to get down. She didn't see them all, scampering like rodents, for cover. Her body wobbled, suddenly unsteady on her own feet. She tried to reach for her sword. She never laid her hand on it. She was thrown to the ground, a weight crashing against her side and rolling them into the bushes. Every muscle in her body tensed as she gradually came back to awareness and found herself pressed tightly between the ground and a pair of grey-blue eyes. She caught herself staring into them, her face slowly turning to a rosy blush.
The birds passed, though it took far too long for Faelwen's liking. She wasn't at all accustomed to displays of affection, especially out in the open. Legolas, on the other hand, seemed in malcontent to remove his body from hers. He stood and held out his hand to help her get up, which she accepted without thinking, her blush deepening. He pulled her close not entirely by accident and moved to hold her.

"We make for the Pass at Caradhras," Gandalf spoke loudly, halting Legolas' movements.
He looked at Faelwen's blushing face and the small space between them, noticing her anxiety, he blushed slightly himself.
"Goheno nin," Legolas muttered, looking at the ground as he released his grip and collected his belongings. (Forgive me.)
Faelwen followed him, saying gently, "Le vesta, Legolas?" (Do you promise, Legolas?)
He turned quickly, looking into her eyes, "Man ume le pent?" (What did you say? [in a polite sense])
She turned her face away, shy of the question, "Le vesta tegi nin an le'bar ir sen na'ha methen?" (Do you promise to take me to your home when this is at an end?)
He smiled at her, gently offering his hand to her, "Uin yr, nibin." (Of course,)
She smiled, reaching for his hand, about to speak. She dropped her hand and blushed as Aragorn interrupted them, "Come on you two, we're leaving for the Mountain Pass!"

"Coming, Aragorn!" She yelled happily, a light blush on her cheeks.
She picks up her belongings and started making her way up the mountainside. She walked next to Legolas, a smirk on her lips.
"You know, I noticed your curiosity at my age earlier. Why don't you ask, mallen-finnel?"
"Because I'm not sure I want to know how old you are," he said simply.
"So instead you'll just waste time wondering?" He could hear her smirk.
"Sui iest le, nibin. Man andrann le?" He said looking at her. (As you wish. What is your age?)
"Gerin laew idhrinn. Sextum milibus trecentos octoginta, egor ennas os." (I have many years. 6380, or there-about.)
"Im nith ar le!" Legolas laughed loudly. (I'm a youth beside you!)