CHAPTER NINE
Legolas awoke slowly to the bright sound of birdsong, punctuated by someone carefully turning the pages of a book very near his left ear. As sleep slowly gave way to awareness, he gradually became aware of a masculine, muscular and very naked chest rising and falling beneath his other ear. A heavy arm lay over him, and someone's fingers were gently, steadily playing with his hair. Blue eyes snapped open into shocked awareness.
Lurching away from those fingers to rise up on one elbow, Legolas stared into the face of the Lord of Imladris, who looked calmly back at him. So close were they to each other that Legolas could see the fine lines at the corners of the Elf-lord's eyes, and the dark gray ring running around each of his irises.
"Quel amrun," Elrond's voice vibrated against Legolas's chest as he tilted the book away from his bed-mate's face. "I trust you slept well?"
Shoving aside the blankets, Legolas rolled violently away from Elrond and found himself falling. Landing on hands and knees, he scrambled on the wood floor to gain his bare feet, only to have the annoying folds of the borrowed robes tangle around his legs and nearly trip him.
Still, somehow, he found himself on the far side of the bedchamber, fetched up against the tapestried wall. Adrenalin coursed through his veins and he gasped to breathe. Balling his fingers into fists, he fought to think beyond the base instinct telling him to grab the nearest weapon, which happened to be Elrond's broadsword, fastened on the wall to the left of Legolas's head.
"How did I get in your bed?" Legolas demanded, raking his fingers through his hair in a worthless effort to get the long strands to stay out of his eyes.
"You were very tired."
"I have been tired before, but never before have I awakened to find myself in someone's bed!"
"I should hope that I am the first," Elrond commented dryly, setting aside his book.
"Are we bonded?" Legolas cast his thoughts back to the night before. "Beyond our conversation, there is only blackness in my mind where memories should be. You must tell me--"
"Tell you what? That I lied when I said I would not take you last night, and then drugged you with the tea and claimed you while you slept?" Elrond raised his voice in outrage. "Do you feel bonded to me?"
"How should I know what being bonded feels like?" Legolas all but shouted. "How can I tell of a feeling that I have never felt!"
"Legolas," Elrond intoned with heavy deliberation and reached for a patience he was far from feeling. It did not manage to override the irritation in his voice. Setting his long legs on the floor, he left the bed and crossed to his guest, who all but climbed up the wall backward at the sight of a tall and very naked Lord of Imladris bearing down on him. At that moment, all reason fled, leaving Legolas's instincts in control of the moment.
Elrond saw the panic in the younger Elf's eyes, saw him reach for the broadsword that had last seen battle at Mount Orodruin. Legolas wrapped his fingers around the hilt of the sword and raked a fury-filled gaze over the broad-shouldered, well-built Elf.
Stepping so close Elrond's toes challenged the younger Elf's for room, the Elf-lord's long fingers closed around Legolas's wrist. Pressure was brought to bear on sensitive tendons, but Legolas still gripped the sword. His gaze shifted to focus beyond the Elf-lord, and Elrond read his thoughts instantly. [He's about to release the sword, drop beneath my arm, and lunge behind to attack with whatever is at hand.]
"Let go, Legolas," Elrond murmured in what he hoped was a soothing manner. "You don't mean to attack me. I know you are not truly awake yet. By Elbereth, I swear once more that no harm will come to you."
"Am I bonded to you?" Legolas demanded once more, his every muscle tensed.
"We are not bonded," Elrond assured, careful not to further crowd Legolas. "I prefer my lovers awake and willing rather than unconscious and oblivious. And I suggest very strongly that you let go my sword. Now."
Legolas's wrist was shrieking with pain, his fingers and upper arm were going numb. Some part of his mind registered that Elrond was applying only enough pressure to make his defiant guest think rationally about the situation and hopefully release his weapon without further violence. Another part of Legolas's mind wanted to sob with a mixture of relief and frustration - relief that there was no bond, and frustration that there was no way out of the ongoing nightmare trap King Thranduil had set for him.
Elrond increased the pressure on the wrist a fraction more, and Legolas hissed, then looked up to meet the eyes of his captor. They were calm, deliberate and determined. Another slight twist and the wrist would snap under the pressure of Elrond's long fingers, thus forcing Legolas to surrender the weapon. They both knew it, and those eyes informed Legolas clearly that Elrond was willing to do so. Yield, the gaze demanded, giving him one more chance to choose for himself.
"I am a healer as well as a warrior. I will set it for you later," Elrond murmured.
Reason reawoke in Legolas's mind with a muted whisper that ending the pain might be a wise idea, as this battle as well as the war was already lost. He settled for releasing the sword hilt and glowered up at the Elf-lord, who was certainly as trapped as he was.
"Thank you," Elrond said mildly.
Taking the sword, he moved across the chamber and laid the weapon safely out of reach on the bed. Shrugging into an outer robe, Elrond continued as if nothing had happened.
"I didn't want to wake you this morning, for you were sleeping very soundly and needed the rest. Now that you are awake, you will join me for breakfast and learn the details of my plan to handle your father." Turning, he arched an eyebrow at Legolas, as if to invite his comment or refusal, but the Elf was contented to remain silent where he stood and nurse his throbbing wrist. Moving into the outer chamber, Elrond ordered, "Join me now."
The Elf-lord's tone brooked no refusal, and Legolas followed reluctantly, yielding to the Lord of Imladris's authority but wanting nothing more than to bolt out of Imladris as well as out of the chamber, to find a place - anyplace - where insane fathers and powerful Elf-lords could not threaten or command him.
[I slept with him and did not wake when he carried me to his bed and climbed in beside me,] Legolas thought, disgusted with the betrayal of his body. [Yet he will not bond with me. What does this mean, and does he expect me to sleep again with him tonight? This is far too much to think about, things are happening far too fast. Only last night I was all but demanding that he bond with me for the sake of peace and Mirkwood. How could I have been so ignorant?]
What Legolas did not appreciate in particular was how blissful and contented he had felt while hovering, for a few precious minutes between sleep and full waking, in Elrond's arms. His trecherous body now knew and remembered the sweetness of being held against the hard body of the older male. The comfort of simple touch and caring had long been absent from his life, and he hadn't realized how much he missed it. Part of Legolas ached for such contact now, so much so that he hated it.
His traitorous scalp tingled, as if his skin wanted more of Elrond's long fingers threading through his hair. He raked his fingers through the hair roughly, as though to scrub away the memory of that touch. Beyond that, Legolas growled inwardly at the part of him that was avidly watching Elrond stride in front of him. He knew far too much about the powerful body beneath those robes now. All too clearly in his mind's eye, Legolas saw Elrond once more naked. He luxuriated in the memory and felt himself stir. Once again, he saw and growled at the long legs and powerful thighs striding toward him, at the sight of Elrond's manhood swinging so heavily between those thighs, large even in its flaccidity. Closing his eyes against the memory, Legolas nearly bumped into Elrond when he stopped beside the table.
"Easy," Elrond said, catching Legolas's elbow, only to release him a moment before the Elf leaped back, startled. With a slight smile, Elrond reached for a pitcher and offered quietly, "Tea?"
Silently, carefully, and willing his fingers not to drop the accursed mug, Legolas took the mug and gulped almost desperately at its contents. Finding his chair and sinking down with a despair that was bone deep, he plunked the mug onto the table and stared into its depths as if it held all of the mysteries of Middle-earth.
"Will you eat something?" Elrond asked.
"I don't think I can right now."
"As you wish, my prince." Settling into his own chair, Elrond waited to see if there would be any reaction to the endearment. It seemed not; Legolas had totally withdrawn.
[Again, or still?] Elrond wondered. [Our sleeping together has proven my point all too well. Even Legolas must now admit that he is not ready to bond with me.] Stifling a sigh of frustration that he had won the battle but obviously lost the war, Elrond deliberately shifted tactics.
"You tell me that you were adept at guarding Mirkwood's border," he began conversationally, pouring his own tea and spreading jam across a slices of bread. "My twin sons, Elladan and Elrohir, are only about fifty years older than you. They run together, alone and with the Rangers, to guard Imladris's borders, destroying any and all orc enclaves they may find."
"Fortunate elves," Legolas muttered to his tea mug.
Elrond raised an eyebrow at the sullen tone, then continued. "Earlier this morning, Erestor informed me they have arrived home."
"Erestor came in here while I was abed with you?" Legolas demanded, blue eyes widening in dismay.
"He entered the outer chamber only and called the information within. What I propose is this," Elrond continued. "If Elladan and Elrohir deem your skills to be worthy, and if you wish to do so, you may travel with them to help guard Imladris as you guarded Mirkwood. As for your father, I shall send word that you have arrived and tell him that I am well-pleased with you. He will further be informed that while we are officially betrothed, we wish to take a few months to come to know each other and will marry in the fall. That will win six months of freedom for you."
"I appreciate your efforts, but it won't matter," Legolas said softly. "Thranduil will still claim me, for I have failed to bond with you."
Elrond ignored him. "Wine, supplies and warriors will be sent with this message to help Mirkwood and to buy the king's cooperation. I know this is not a permanent solution, Legolas, but before the six months are exhausted, some miracle may occur to give us more time, or perhaps we will find a way to make the bonding palatable to you."
Reluctant eyes met Elrond's gaze. "By palatable, you still mean that I should love you."
"I have not changed my mind over-night." Elrond pushed the jam-jar toward Legolas.
Sighing, Legolas poked the outside of the jar with his finger and pushing it back across the table. "I say again that Thranduil will be satisfied with nothing except that I bond with you. Nothing else will assure him that the alliance cannot be broken."
"Obsessive, isn't he?"
"You have no idea."
"I accept that we must bond, Legolas. I just don't think it need be tomorrow or in six months. We have time to plot additional strategies and use them against your father. Again, I say that a miracle may occur, or we may find the means to create one. In the meantime, my sons will test you. You must test them as well and see if you wish to run with them."
Rising from his chair and resigned to the fact that once more Legolas was going to eat nothing from his table, Elrond gave a slight bow. Legolas rose as well, and watched him with worried eyes.
"For now, we will have no more discussion on the matter," Elrond announced. "I have finished tormenting you now, and am going to dress. After that, I shall go downstairs to check on Assassin and the others, and to talk with Glorfindel regarding when we might begin moving everyone out of the Hall of Fire so that the servants will stop casting evil glances our way."
Gesturing, Elrond continued, "While the outlying chamber is not entirely ready for your occupancy, it does contain everything you brought to Imladris, including your bow and quiver. I believe you'll find your knives within as well. Also within is the clothing Erestor promised and delivered earlier this morning. At your leisure, Legolas, you are free to join Glorfindel and me."
So saying, Elrond disappeared into his private bedchamber, leaving Legolas alone to fend for himself. Had he looked back, Elrond would have seen his guest standing stalk still and staring in shock after him.
Legolas's stomach rumbled, his appetite returning as he dared to relax a bit now that the threatening host had departed. Snagging a few pieces of buttered toast, he dared to carry his mug of tea into the adjoining chamber, to explore within and discover that all Elrond had said was true. Legolas was pleased to discover that, in addition to his own now-clean clothing, Erestor had provided numerous sets of new things.
Grateful, he stripped off the annoying borrowed robes, letting them fall where they would on the floor in his eagerness to be free of them as he reached for far more comfortable and useful garments. An undertunic and leggings were dived into. Soft leather boots were pulled on. The long blond hair was combed back, braided and tied off. Smaller braids were secured at his temples to prevent the unruly strands from snagging in the bow, and quickly finished by fingers that had done them for years. Reaching for his quiver, Legolas allowed himself the brief luxury of caressing the worn leather with something approaching affection.
He knew every inch of the leather jesses and buckles as well as he knew his carefully honed warrior's skills and ability to defend that which he loved. Thranduil may have tossed him out of Mirkwood, but Legolas knew within his heart that, with Elrond's welcome and understanding, he could come to care every bit as deeply for Imladris and its people as he had for those of Mirkwood. With caring came other feelings - a fierce determination to protect and the knowledge that he could help both Mirkwood and Imladris if Elrond would only allow it. His heart sang at the prospect of showing Elrond's sons what he could do in their father's service - and being free to do it outside of Imladris, not to mention away from Elrond.
Legolas checked the state of his knives and the condition of his arrows before slipping into the harness and securing it. Pulling free his hair, he adjusted the soft leather jerkin he wore over his tunic, making sure that everything fit comfortably and wouldn't restrict his reach in any way. Arrows and knives were accessible, all was in order.
With every routine movement, the Elf felt more himself. Belting the tunic, he reached for his last piece of buttered bread and then his bow. Munching on the former, he slung the latter over his shoulder and headed for the door. Depending on how things went with the horses and the twins, perhaps he might even find the appetite to partake again of mid-day meal? Legolas hoped so, for after having Elrond order his presence that morning, the younger Elf had no doubt that the Lord of Imladris would find effective ways of force-feeding him, if necessary. It was far better if Legolas forced himself to yield without making Elrond discover creative new ways of making his unruly consort-to-be obey. [He's probably getting a good idea as to why Thranduil felt it necessary to prepare a dungeon hold for me.]
Making small, final adjustments to the leathers running across his shoulder to hold the quiver in place, Legolas exited the chamber and gained the exterior balcony only to discover Elrond about to descend the stairs that leading from their private chambers down into the library.
"I didn't expect to see you so soon," the Elf-lord admitted, looking pleased when Legolas fell into step beside him.
Legolas offered a slight, almost shy smile. "I have had a bit to eat, and I feel more myself in these clothes. Please allow me to apologize for nearly attacking you earlier this morning, and to thank you. Your generosity in feeling and in substance is more than I deserve, Lor... Ah, Elrond. I wish there was something you would allow me to do for you in return." It was the most he'd ever said to the Elf-lord, and it came out in a rush.
Turning as he gained the library floor, Elrond clasped Legolas's shoulder while he still stood on the last step, met his gaze on the level. "You truly wish to do something for me?"
"I do."
"Then you must find ways to be happy here in Imladris."
Legolas's brow furrowed. "You would ask nothing for yourself?"
"I enjoy pleasing my people," the Elf-lord confessed. "I enjoy seeing them smile and knowing that they are happy here."
"How astonishing," Legolas gave voice to his first thought. "Thranduil would never worry after such a thing. That his people survive, yes. That they are happy, I think not."
"Not all Elf-lords are created alike, Lasgalen." Elrond dared smooth down the braid at Legolas's temple before turning to lead the way out of the double doors leading from the library.
"Do you require anything else this morning, my lord?" Erestor's voice spoke from the shadows.
"No. Thank you, Erestor."
The austere Elf offered a bow to Legolas. "Are the new things to your liking, Lord Lasgalen?"
"Very much so. Thank you." Ignoring the predatory look in Erestor's gaze, Legolas lengthened his stride to catch up with Elrond. Once they had gained the inner hall, he spoke low, so as not to be overheard by any other eavesdroppers.
"I've never heard such forthright honesty such as yours from anyone before," Legolas confessed as Elrond shortened his stride temporarily to accommodate his companion. "Anyone except Mithrandir, that is. But then, he's an outspoken wizard of uncertain origins and not an Elf-lord."
"Mithrandir is indeed a breed unto himself, and a refreshing one at that. One always knows where one stands in conversation with him." Together, the two pushed through the tall doors leading into the Hall of Fire. "I find his tactlessness an inspiration, don't you?"
"Absolutely."
"Whose tactlessness?" Glorfindel descended upon them. "Are you talking about me again?"
"Absolutely," Elrond echoed Legolas's reply. "And so, tell us Glorfindel, tactlessly and truthfully, how are the horses this morning?"
