- Story by BlueSterling -
Elvish in dialogues and thoughts are in Italics.
Dialogue in 'these,'
Explanation of words in Sindarin at the bottom of the page.
I do not own any of the characters; they solely (and rightly) belong to Tolkien. The title is a line in Avicii's song "You make me", it can easily be found on YouTube.
Legolas tried to open his eyes, but they would not yield. All around him there was darkness and pain, nothing more.
I am so tired… What is happening to me?
He opened his mouth to say something, anything. His lips felt dry and chapped. The mouth straines when he tried to speak. No sound came out, his voice had faltered. He could feel a presence encircling him and moving under him, rocking his body from side to side. The smell of horse, sweat and leaves reached his nostrils. Pain seared through his stomach and the blood in his hand throbbed.
It hurts so much...
He felt eyes on him as he tried to speak again, the only sounds coming from him being muffled groans. The pain was overwhelming. Unconsciousness claimed him again and he floated in darkness.
- In Rivendell –
The feelings of necessity shook him, he had try again. Legolas tried to gather himself, to force himself to wake up. Yet again he failed in his attempts, and fell back into the he void, oblivious to his surroundings.
Am I dead?
No, that cannot be… Had I been dead I would be walking the halls of Mandos, not floating in this awful darkness.
Suddenly he heard something. It was the sound of loud sobbing, piercing through the darkness, waking him. Legolas peered up slightly and winced.
The light is so sharp!
He struggled to open his eyes again. Three people surrounded him, looking at him with worried looks gracing their faces. They were bathed in fog, making it impossible for him to see who they were. He tried to focus his eyes as he turned towards where the sobbing came from. A broad red form.
This must be Gimli.
Gimli was sitting next to him by the bed, tears soaking his red beard. The sight was worrying.
I have never seen my friend this distressed.
Legolas furrowed his brows and bit his lower lip. He tried to stretch his hand out to touch Gimli's shoulder, wanting to reassure him of that whatever the ailment, everything was going to turn out just fine. His hand was quickly caught, but not by the dwarf. Staring into his eyes were the calming brown eyes of another elf. It was Haldir. He squeezed the smaller hand tightly between his own.
He's awake! Ai, how tired he looks… So frail and broken, my poor Legolas.
'Ci vêr, pen vain?' he whispered, the words beaming with worry and joy for Legolas' awakening. He stared at him, searching for something reassuring in the wet, azure eyes.
Legolas met his gaze and nodded slowly. What is this, how could we have reached Imiraldis already?
The dwarf let out a relieved sigh and patted Haldir on the back.
'He is awake, I knew it! Had it not been for you and Gandalf, he would have perished,' he exclaimed happily, grinning through his tears back and forth between Legolas and Haldir.
Legolas looked confusedly at all the faces wishing him well. He turned towards the figure that had yet to say anything to him. The form was leaning on the back of a braided wooden chair with his arms folded sternly across his chest. His face was greyish and unwashed with blue shadows coloring he skin underneath his eyes. They gleamed in the candlelight, and Legolas could see that the whites were colored by a red hue. He focused his eyes on the quiet figure and realised that this was the tired form of Strider. The man did not look directly at him, he chose to stare unaffectedly at the elf's forehead instead. The brows were furrowed in a look of worry. As soon as he felt the elf's questioning gaze on him, he turned to look at him directly. They locked eyes, causing a jolt to pass through the man. The contact filled him with unwanted feelings of anguish.
'Sevig vaur nên?' he asked, averting his eyes.
Legolas looked at him and nodded again. The man poured him a glass of water from the clear pitcher that stood on the dark nightstand next to his sickbed. The elf reached out with his right hand, his left still being held tightly by Haldir, but started when it touched the cool glass. The pressure of the glass in his broken hand caused him to hiss loudly, losing his grip so that the glass fell and broke into several translucent pieces, spilling water on Strider's feet.
'Do not move, pen vain! In your battle, you were greatly harmed. Your hand is still broken, but healing. As is your stomach,' Haldir added, reprimanding him slightly for his accident.
Legolas looked down his right arm. It is true, my hand hurts and is bandaged. He lifted the blanket that covered his naked body and he raised his brows; the skin on his stomach was clean and fair except for a part of him that was marred by a fresh, bright pink scar. Its width was about the same as the width of his hand. Slight panic showed in his eyes as he touched the painful scar, bucking his hips at the sudden stinging sensation. Beads of sweat formed on the pale forehead. Haldir leaned over him to kiss it, wanting to take away whatever pain he could. Strider looked away and walked silently out of the room. The door creaked as he closed it behind him, leaving a puzzled an exhausted Legolas staring after him.
'Rest now, friend, and heal. In a week there will be a great breakfast, and a wonderful feast for Lord Elrond's announcements,' Gimli smiled as he exited. Haldir stayed behind.
'Legolas, davo nestad anech,' he offered. Legolas smiled in agreement and closed his eyes as he leaned back on his pillow, letting Haldir's cool hands rest on the fresh scar of his abdomen. Soon he felt himself drift into a deep, healing sleep.
- Outside of Legolas' room –
'Stop it Strider, do not blame yourself!'
'As if I could stop this… He almost gave his life up for me. That is something I can not live with,' the man sneered at Gimli.
'Why does it bother you so, friend? His life was not lost, he is here with us, healing under the caring hands of Haldir,' he asked.
'But it does bother me. It bothers me greatly that he would risk something so precious to me, all for something that is not worthy of saving,'
'That is enough! Do not berate him for wanting to see you alive. I, and you yourself, would gladly do the same for him or any other friend of ours,' he scoffed at the Ranger, turning his back on him. The man's words had upset him, but not enough to miss the remark about how precious the elf was to the man.
The dwarf walked away on that note, leaving Strider to stare at the wooden doors of Legolas' room in anger. The room was on the right side of the corridor, while the left side of the corridor was open to the lake beneath the fort. The only thing between the man and the steep cliffs was a marble fence, connected to a series of arches held up by light grey pillars. He leaned all his weight on the fence, breathing in the cool autumn air. The surroundings were completely quiet except for the soft chanting that could be heard from the room behind him. Haldir is obviously going to spend the night there, healing my... healing Legolas. Strider shook himself.
The truth is, he admitted to himself, that my heart aches so when I see him hurt and damaged. It aches even more knowing that he is in this state because of me. The last thing I would ever want is to be the reason for the pained expression on his face. He sighed, knowing how pathetic it was that he adored his friend so. After all, his friend was a Prince. He was to inherit rule over Mirkwood after his father Thranduil, and he was immortal. And I… I am nothing. With this thought he walked down the corridor to the rooms of his foster brothers Elrohir and Elladan, intending to talk through the night to rid himself of the uncomfortable feelings he was having towards the Mirkwood prince.
A couple of days passed, and Legolas was feeling better. One night, after eating the fruits and breads Gimli had brought him in his company, the elf excused himself. All the time he had spent in his sick-bed he had longed for the ranges and the wonderful feeling of a strung bow in his hands. He needed to test his skill with the bow and arrows once again, and the thought of a walk through the beautiful nature of the gardens proved all to tempting. He parted with Gimli outside of his room, thanking his friend for the lovely evening-meal.
Legolas walked briskly to the ranges, picking his pace up as he entered the gardens. The cool breeze warmed his even cooler skin. The short walk had drained him of powers and beads of salty sweat gathered below his hairline, covering his forehead in a wet sheen. Elves do not get tired easily, but being locked in his room for so long and the recent battle made him weaker than usual. Tonight the grounds seem abandoned. It was expected as no one in their right mind would practice in the dimming lights of the evening. A smile graced his mouth as he positioned himself on the mark a couple of feet from the mark.
Perhaps I am not in my right mind at all.
He steadied himself by placing his weight on his right leg, bending the knees of both legs slightly. He held the bow in his left hand and placed the arrow to the string with his right. While stringing it he noticed how much his strength had diminished. His arms shook in the tension of the bow.
Steady, steady…
Legolas breathed in and aimed for the black spot in the center of the target. He exhaled sharply and released the bow at the same moment. The string recoiled and hit his hand. The impact was painful, and the elf whimpered quietly. He checked his bandages and saw a small blot of blood that had begun to seep through them. Concentrating this much caused him pain and it also dulled his senses. Instead of recooperating and giving up, he strung the bow a second time. His breathing was slower this time. As he was about to release the arrow, someone grabbed him by his wrist. Legolas released the arrow shakily and watched it whirl into the edge of the target.
'What is the meaning of this?' he asked angrily, whipping around to face rude person that had interrupted him.
'Legolas, I wish to speak with you,'
It was Strider. He was looking at Legolas with obvious anguish written on his face. The stubbles on his chin were longer and his hair was becoming more disheveled by each day he was alone, tormented by his thoughts. He slowly let go of the wrist to put his hands idly by his sides.
'Ai, you do now? Why, may I ask? I have not seen you since the day I woke,' Legolas answered coolly, turning away to study the poor shot, 'yet all others have been kind enough to visit…'
The words hit the Ranger's heart; their bitterness was evident, the elf seemed thoroughly scorned.
'Why should I have wished to see you? Would it have brought me joy to see your broken body?' he sneered back at him. The elf clutched at his heart. The words coming from his friend were malicious, provoking the anger in him.
Did he not want to see me because of the wounds, he thought, or has this weakness scarred me so in the eyes of the man? Am I no longer the strong friend the Ranger could count on?
'Joy or no joy, Haldir has stayed with my both day and night, healing me. He was not disgusted by me as you obviously have. Gimli has stayed too, along with Mithrandir,' he bit out.
Haldir's name angered his the most. He had noticed the way he was always calling Legolas for the "fair one" and how he kissed his forehead. Strider's blood was boiling, and he ground his teeth trying to avoid exploding in rage. It did not work; he became blind to his own actions. He lunged at Legolas and caught him by his right wrist, squeezing it until he could see in his eyes how much pain he inflicted on him. The pain seared through the elf's body and he tugged forcefully at the hand, trying to free himself. Strider pulled him closer, looking straight down at the tormented elf.
'Aye, the word disgusted seems fitting. How could you throw yourself onto the sword of our enemy, knowing the blow was intended for me?
Do you not know that I would have my life ended in an honorable way, by the sword of my enemy? Not being pushed aside like a weak coward, letting you give your life for my benefit,' he finished.
'So, it is this that troubles you… Cowardice,' Legolas was shaking as a fire lit in his eyes, a fire hotter than any man's and far more devastating.
'It is not cowardice, Strider. I would give my life for you, and you know this.
I would die for you!' he screamed at him, loosing his ever so resilient composure. Though the man's heart was wrenched, it pushed the blood to pound louder and louder in his ears. He was overwhelmed with the urge to hurt him, to cause him as much pain as he felt at the elf's sacrifice.
'I will not have your life.' His voice was cold. The fire in Legolas' eyes flickered and burned out.
'Nor will I offer it to you,' he said looking down, forcefully shrugging off the man's hold on him. He walked towards the targets and yanked his arrows out, avoiding Striders glaring eyes. The tiring walk back to his room seemed to last an eternity, and weighed heavily on his heart.
Strider fell to his knees in the soft grass and ripped at the strands in exhasperation.
Not like this, it was not supposed to end like this!
Legolas pushed open the oak doors to his room. Entering it he noticed passingly that Haldir was sitting on his bed engulfed reading some parchment. Legolas sat down on the one braided wooden chair, too tired to acknowledge the reading elf and folded his arms over his head to hide his face. Haldir looked up at him worriedly as his small frame began to shake as he sobbed. The sobs were quiet, but the hurt exposed in them was nerve wrecking. Haldir rose from the bed and quickly took place behind him, placing his hands on Legolas' shoulders. The long, white hands stroked the hair out of the crying elf's face, his voice cooing softly, fingers occasionally drying his tears. Time passed, and the sobs came less often and less fiercely.
'Shh, nimp pen,' he whispered into Legolas' ear, 'shed no more tears. Tell me what happened.'
'I am so confused, Haldir,' and he truly was.
He and Strider had been the closest of friends since he offered his bow in help for the Fellowship. They had shared thoughts he was afraid to voice out loud, and he always offered the man arms to cry in when his task became too heavy to bear alone. Legolas was there for him, comforting him whenever he needed it, but the favor was unreturned. The elves do not open up to anybody easily; their trust was difficult to earn. Yet, he had given his heart and trust to the ranger.
Did he not love me like I love him? Perhaps not… He must see my feelings towards him as too bold, too friendly to his liking.
Legolas looked at his right hand. One of his braids had loosened and fell in front of his eyes. A leather band kept the bandages tightly wound around his hand and wrist. Blood was showing through the cotton bandages, coloring his hand and wrists with bright red spots. The sight was strangely welcoming; the pain was distracting him from his inner pain, which was worse than any burning in the flesh.
A loud sigh escaped him.
Who would have thought that my utmost sacrifice would push him away from me…
The feelings towards the ranger were confusing. He did not know if this was love, friendship or anything else. All he knew was that he ha thought them to belong together, and that the animosity between them was stabbing at his heart. It was his stubbornness that refused him to crawl back to the man to ask his forgiveness.
But then again, why should I? Why should I apologize for doing everything in my power to save his life?
Haldir's smile faltered a bit when he saw the elf's bloodied hand.
'If you do not wish to tell me, you may keep quiet, pen vain. You are entitled to,'
This woke Legolas from his musings. He felt that his behaviour made him look ungrateful. Haldir had been one of the soldiers of the border patrols coming to their aid when they had fought the stone statues in the clearing. Mithrandir had told him all about it some days ago. It seems that darkness is awakening once again, he had said to Legolas in their conversations during the time when elven servants replaced his bandages. It had been Mithrandir's light that froze the statues, stopping them from attacking the company further. The stone sword had still been embedded in Legolas when Haldir had run forth and crushed it. It was Haldir that carried Legolas on his horse all the way into Imiraldis, trying to heal him while riding, trying his best to bring him back from the darkness he had fallen into. He owed his life to this elf.
'Goheno nin, Haldir, sincerely. A storm is brewing in my heart and it has pulled my mind in as well,' he said as he let his hands fall into his lap. The touch to his hair felt good. He leaned into the cool hands while his anger eased out of his body every time he exhaled. The blood did not leave him completely, it seemed to throb louder in his hand than anywhere else.
'Let me lessen it. Give me one night with you to dull this pain,'
The offer surprised Legolas. His eyes widened and he opened his mouth. The seeking of intimacy as a comfort was not unusual in war and battle, especially among the elves. Maybe… Maybe this will take my mind of him. I will not let myself hurt anymore because of this one man.
'Sevin dhaw, Legolas?' he whispered, breathing cool air in the pointed ear below him.
- To be continued -
Ci vêr - Are you well
Pen vain - Fair one
Sevig vaur nên – Would you like some water
Davo nestad anech – Let me heal you
Nimp pen – Little/frail one
Goheno nin - I apologize
Sevin dhaw – May I?
Authors note
Well, you can see where this is going!
But, I would very much like some feedback, praise and critique highly appreciated, before I go on with this story. I have never written any fiction before, and right now I feel as if I am writing it poorly or wrong, especially since English(and Sindarin, haha) isn't my native language... (like, at all.) Beta-offers are also very much welcome!
And remember, reviews can totally change where this is going. I have a plan in my head, but all suggestions are welcome as they might be a lot better than what I have in mind for this.
So it is all up to you.
*wink wink*
