Roots that ran deep entangled in every aspect of this place. It was impossible to tell where one trees life began and the old one ended, to the elven prince you were no better than those roots. Every part of Mirkwood was stained by your touch, every festivity tinted by your laugh every quiet hidden nook held a lingering memory of you. It was a dual-edged sword to return to his home. The woods felt too small after seeing so much, as hard as he had faught to protect his realm and every other he now didn't feel like he fit that way he used too. Disconnected from what was, trying to figure out what would be, he at least knew who he was. The king he'd one day want to be. You were a different story. Admittedly he spent as many days as he could avoiding you, not sure if he wanted you to have grown over the time apart or stayed the same. Which would be worse? It was a risk either way, you might have stayed the same only for him to have grown out of shape with you. You might have changed with him and now would be nothing more than vines on the same tree moving to different branches. Maybe he was assuming the worst, maybe you'd still fit at his side the way you always had. Except you hadn't always, there was a before you and there could be an after you. Maybe if Legolas could quiet his thoughts he might make some sense of his struggle. Instead he found you by the stallion pastures. Tending to horses and playing with the fox at your feet. For a moment he was at lose for words, the fox had been a kit when he last saw it, and you... well you were still beautiful. "I think he could stand to lose a treat or two" A dry comment. Meant in good humor, hopeful he was still allowed to jest as he once had. It was safer to comment on how the fox had changed than how you had, or he had.