Legolas leaned back carefully in the tub. Alede had draped a towel over
the edge to cushion his back, so the pressure was not too painful. The tub
was small, nothing to compare with the sunken stone bath that graced his
rooms in Mirkwood. He couldn't stretch out his legs, but at least they
weren't up under his chin either.
One thing to be thankful for.
He sighed softly and closed his eyes.
By Elbereth, he hurt. He hurt all over. And his skin was raw from the scrubbing he'd given himself. But at least the necromancer's powder was completely gone now, as well as the burning, sticky sensation he'd woke up with.
The necromancer's powder.
Darkness filled his mind as his memories skittered around the edge of his imprisonment. What they had done to him.
He shivered and forced his eyes open. His gaze fell on the red, angry wounds around his wrists. There were more around his ankles, though he couldn't see them beneath the water. But he felt them. He remembered the feeling as the Orcs had clamped the irons on him and he'd known he was good and caught then. He'd almost escaped them twice before that. But there had been so many of them.
Not as many as there had been in the beginning, he reminded himself. He'd slipped their grasp twice and used any weapon that had come to hand. He'd killed twelve that he could remember, before they'd stilled him with iron.
He'd nearly stripped his skin off trying to slip the iron bands.
Beside him, a log fell in the fireplace sending up a shower of sparks. Legolas rubbed his forehead. He'd need to go carefully with his memories or he'd sink into melancholy.
Think of the present, he told himself. 'Alede is right. I must not dwell on this while I am recovering.' Time enough to face his demons when he could walk and pull a bow again.
'At least I'm warm.' He'd been cold so long all of his muscles were tight and knotted. But the warmth was finally starting to soak into his bones. Not only was the water incredibly hot, but he was mere inches from the fire. Alede had placed a wooden screen around the tub to keep the heat in. He was thankful for her consideration.
He was thankful for many things. He could hear his rescuer moving around the room as she put clean linens on the bed.
"Legolas, may I come in and check the fire?" Her voice was hesitant outside the screen.
"Yes, of course."
She passed him carefully. There wasn't much room. Alede set the kettle on the hearth. She added wood to the fire and then walked around behind him.
"Shall I wash your back and your hair?" she asked sounding a little shy.
Legolas hid a smile at what he perceived as her human prudishness. His nakedness bothered him not at all. But he did feel foolish having her tend him like this. Guilt had assailed him while he'd watched her heat and carry kettle after kettle of water to the tub, but she'd insisted that the water be almost scalding and he was grateful that she had filled it so full it came well up to his chest.
"Thank you," he finally said. "I hadn't managed that yet."
She knelt on the floor behind him. "Its hard to wash your hair in this little tub, especially when your hurt." She reached for the little cake of soap and worked up lather.
"Lean forward a bit," she said. Her hands were incredibly gentle as she slid the soap over his back. Carefully she worked it around his wounds. "The cloth?" she asked.
Legolas opened his eyes again. The cloth he'd used to rinse with had ended up somewhere down around his feet. He groped in the water for it and handed it to her over his shoulder.
She rinsed his back off and set the cloth on the hearth where it hissed and steamed softly. Then with delicate movements she untied the knots on his braids, and finally combed her fingers through them until his hair lay smooth. He noticed that her fingers trembled slightly as she slid them through his hair, and wondered why.
As she slowly poured warm water over his scalp and he felt it trickling down his back, he closed his eyes. And when her gentle fingers began massaging soap into his hair, Legolas no longer cared how foolish this might seem. Leaning back, he sighed and for the first time in days relaxed completely.
"The last time someone washed my hair," he said quietly. "I was but a child and my mother was attempting to bathe my older brother and I. But Franduil insisted on drowning me in the tub when she wasn't looking."
Alede chuckled softly behind him.
"We had been down to the river," he continued, lulled by her gentle touch. "Franduil had been teasing me, as older brothers do. I had finally had enough of his games and pushed him into a muddy fen. Unfortunately, he pulled me in with him. After a long muddy battle, we went home reeking of pond slime with waterweeds tangled in our hair. Our mother was scandalized and dunked us both in the tub. But whenever she turned to put the soap on the ledge, he would push my head under. Franduil was twice my height and weight at that time, so I could little defend myself. The next time Mother turned, I used both my arms to splash him. The resulting tidal wave drenched both Franduil and my mother and nearly emptied the tub. But since he had been causing so much mischief he was blamed for it and not me."
Alede laughed. "It must have been a much bigger bath than this if you could create a tidal wave. Did you ever confess?"
He nodded "Many years later. But Mother had already guessed it by then." He fell silent then, thinking of her. She had been a lovely woman and had understood Legolas' restless discontent with Mirkwood. He'd longed for adventure, new sights and change, while his father had grown more set in his ways. As he grew older Legolas and his father had more and more conflicts. His mother had often been the buffer between the King and his rebellious son.
"I'm sorry about your mother," Alede said behind him. And he did not think to wonder why her voice trembled, but closed his eyes again, relaxing into her touch.
****
"Are you warm enough," Alede asked pulling the blanket up around his shoulders more. She'd placed the chair beside the fire and seated him there.
Legolas nodded sleepily, "Yes, thank you."
Alede stood behind him and combed out his damp hair. She still couldn't believe he was allowing her to touch him like this. His hair was like silk and she'd just finished massaging liniment into his stiff shoulders. His skin was warm and smooth beneath her fingers. Alede knew without a doubt that she could easily become smitten with him. If his fair face had not been enough, his kind gentle manner was. And she had a partiality for Elves that dated from her childhood.
Forcing her mind away from such thoughts, Alede considered Legolas' wounds. He could not put any weight on his right leg, because of the arrow wounds. She suspected that an arrow had chipped the bone, making it extremely painful. But in general all of his wounds were healing well and Sildair's freezing spell had completely left him. Now her biggest concern was for his spirits. She'd tended warriors enough to know that nightmares could fell them as easily as blows. And Elves felt emotions strongly, though they often hid it from those not of their race.
Leaving him by the fire, so that his hair would dry, she gathered up the linens she'd stripped from the bed and dunked them in the left over bath water. As she bent over the tub, she tried to distract him from his thoughts.
"I have never known a dwarf to ride horseback," she said scrubbing the linens vigorously. "I have known some who would ride ponies, but never a horse. Your friend Gimli appears to be quite unusual."
Legolas' head came up and a slight smile touched his lips. "Gimli was on Arod?"
"I know not the horse's name, but he was tall with bright eyes and long limbs and much too tall for a Dwarf to ride."
Legolas' grin widened and Alede groaned inwardly. He had slight dimples when he smiled, a boyish attribute that was incredibly charming in one of the Elder race. *
"Gimli often said that if it were not for me, he would have nothing to do with horses. He claims his feet love the ground too much. Many a journey I have spent with him clutching my back for fear of what he says are treacherous beasts. Yet now, you tell me that he has overcome his fear and ridden alone. I am pleased."
"He was very concerned for you. Your friendship must be very great that he would overcome his own nature for your sake."
Legolas nodded, "I know not if all dwarves are as stout hearted as my friend. But he is truly a wonder to me. I love him as a brother." Legolas fell into thoughtful silence.
Alede finished her washing and by the time she had the tub refilled for her own bath, Legolas was half asleep by the fire. She roused him and helped him back into bed.
She sat well up into the night after her bath, watching him sleep. His eyes were open and softly unfocused. But often his brow furrowed as he struggled with nightmares.
Alede struggled too, telling her heart that it was a treacherous path it had chosen. For Elves rarely strayed outside their own race in matters of love. She would do well to concern herself with his wounds and nothing else.
****
As the days passed, Legolas' wounds healed well and with them his spirits. Alede often distracted him from his immobility by begging for tales of his adventures. She had heard all the songs and stories about the War of the Ring, but to hear it told first hand was a delight.
In turn she told him of her own wanderings. She had traveled much of Middle Earth, going from one village to the next, wherever her healing skills were needed.
"I love birthing babies the most," she said with a soft light in her eyes. "There is much joy in bringing a new life, a new hope into the world."
From time to time she traveled with Rangers, though she had never met the famous Aragorn.
"I have passable skills with a light sword and have never been bested at quarter staff," she told him one day. "Though, when I am traveling alone I prefer to avoid confrontations."
"You did quite well in your confrontation with the Orcs," Legolas praised.
She waved a hand dismissively, "Orcs are no match for a good fire spell."
****
By the fifth day after his awakening, Alede knew she could no longer keep him contained to the upper floor, much less bed. Reluctantly she decided that he could come downstairs. He still could not put any significant weight on his right leg, but they'd perfected a limping/hop for getting him around the room. She supposed they could try it on the stairs as well.
"The sun is well up this morning," Legolas pointed out. He had just finished re-braiding his hair after a morning bath and was still wrapped in only a blanket. He sat beside the fire and looked out the window hungrily. "If the weather holds, the snow will be melted soon."
"You're not going outside," Alede said firmly, knowing full well where this conversation was headed.
"I did not say that I was," he shot back. But Alede saw the determined look on his face and the mischievous twinkle in his eye. She sighed. She knew it would not be long before he'd gotten another concession out of her.
"You are the most troublesome patient I have ever had," she grumbled in mock anger.
Legolas grinned up at her from his position on the chair.
"And I thought I had been a model of equanimity," he said innocently.
Alede laughed and laid a bundle of clothes out on the bed. They were her father's things, a long tunic and loose fitting leggings very similar in shape to what Legolas normally wore but not as well made. They were the deep chestnut color of her father's rank. Her own clothing was of dark green and she'd long since shed the cumbersome wizard's robes that went over it.
"Let me look at your wounds," she said.
Legolas turned, placing his back to the window so she'd have better light. Long practice told him that she'd start with his back.
Alede swept the curtain of his hair aside and pressed the blanket down to his waist. She drew her fingers over the fading scars marveling at his healing abilities. The wound had healed many times faster than a man's. In a month, there would not even be a scar.
Tapping his shoulder to indicate that he should turn around, she knelt at his feet and examined his thigh where the arrows had wounded him. The wounds had healed well on the surface. But the muscle and bone still troubled him where the arrows had sunk deep.
"At least the stitches may come out," she remarked reaching for a tiny knife.
"That is a relief," he answered. "They have been causing me great annoyance."
"Hmm. I can see where you have been scratching them. I thought you promised to leave them alone?" she fixed him with a disapproving eye.
"Alede," he gave her the same disapproving look. "Allow me to sew your leg together and we'll see just how much you scratch at the wound."
She chuckled, "No thank you," and began to carefully slit the tiny threads.
"Ai!" Legolas cried suddenly.
Alede jumped and the knife clattered to the floor.
"Did I cut you?" she asked in alarm.
"No," he said grinning. "But the look on your face was so grave, I could not resist."
She tried to scowl at him, but failed and laughed instead. Those cursed dimples, she thought. He could get away with anything!
Retrieving her knife, she threatened him with it. "Now hold still, or I will cut you."
She finished pulling the stitches without any more incident, though she was conscious of Legolas watching her the whole time. Helping him over to the bed, she turned her back while he dressed and added more logs to the fire. As he sat on the edge of the bed, pulling on his boots, she casually walked to the other side of it. Quietly slipping a pillow from under the blankets, she leaned over and swatted him hard on the shoulder with it.
Legolas gave a cry of surprised amusement and twisted around to grab her. Alede tried to skip out of the way, but his long fingers closed around her wrist and jerked her onto the bed. She squealed as he pried the pillow from her hand and hit her in turn. They were soon laughing and wrestling on the bed.
"No fair," Alede cried when she was hit again. "I have to be careful of your wounds!"
"Must I remind you who started this war?" Legolas asked grinning.
"No!" and she snatched the pillow from him.
They finally stopped when the corner of the pillow burst open and feathers fell on them like snow.
Legolas collapsed on his back. "I can not believe that this winded me," he said breathing hard, but he was smiling.
Alede was breathing hard also and she too, was smiling.
"You'll gain your strength back. You've already healed many times faster than a man would. Be patient."
Legolas blew a feather off of his chin and then turned to her. Patting the bed he indicated that she should lie beside him.
Alede sank gratefully onto the mattress and listened to the sound of their breathing. She had never known such happiness. Did she dare allow herself to care for him? Whether she dared it or not, Alede suspected that her traitorous heart would have its own way.
****
To everyone who has posted reviews, thank you! It means so much! Chapter 7 will be up next weekend.
One thing to be thankful for.
He sighed softly and closed his eyes.
By Elbereth, he hurt. He hurt all over. And his skin was raw from the scrubbing he'd given himself. But at least the necromancer's powder was completely gone now, as well as the burning, sticky sensation he'd woke up with.
The necromancer's powder.
Darkness filled his mind as his memories skittered around the edge of his imprisonment. What they had done to him.
He shivered and forced his eyes open. His gaze fell on the red, angry wounds around his wrists. There were more around his ankles, though he couldn't see them beneath the water. But he felt them. He remembered the feeling as the Orcs had clamped the irons on him and he'd known he was good and caught then. He'd almost escaped them twice before that. But there had been so many of them.
Not as many as there had been in the beginning, he reminded himself. He'd slipped their grasp twice and used any weapon that had come to hand. He'd killed twelve that he could remember, before they'd stilled him with iron.
He'd nearly stripped his skin off trying to slip the iron bands.
Beside him, a log fell in the fireplace sending up a shower of sparks. Legolas rubbed his forehead. He'd need to go carefully with his memories or he'd sink into melancholy.
Think of the present, he told himself. 'Alede is right. I must not dwell on this while I am recovering.' Time enough to face his demons when he could walk and pull a bow again.
'At least I'm warm.' He'd been cold so long all of his muscles were tight and knotted. But the warmth was finally starting to soak into his bones. Not only was the water incredibly hot, but he was mere inches from the fire. Alede had placed a wooden screen around the tub to keep the heat in. He was thankful for her consideration.
He was thankful for many things. He could hear his rescuer moving around the room as she put clean linens on the bed.
"Legolas, may I come in and check the fire?" Her voice was hesitant outside the screen.
"Yes, of course."
She passed him carefully. There wasn't much room. Alede set the kettle on the hearth. She added wood to the fire and then walked around behind him.
"Shall I wash your back and your hair?" she asked sounding a little shy.
Legolas hid a smile at what he perceived as her human prudishness. His nakedness bothered him not at all. But he did feel foolish having her tend him like this. Guilt had assailed him while he'd watched her heat and carry kettle after kettle of water to the tub, but she'd insisted that the water be almost scalding and he was grateful that she had filled it so full it came well up to his chest.
"Thank you," he finally said. "I hadn't managed that yet."
She knelt on the floor behind him. "Its hard to wash your hair in this little tub, especially when your hurt." She reached for the little cake of soap and worked up lather.
"Lean forward a bit," she said. Her hands were incredibly gentle as she slid the soap over his back. Carefully she worked it around his wounds. "The cloth?" she asked.
Legolas opened his eyes again. The cloth he'd used to rinse with had ended up somewhere down around his feet. He groped in the water for it and handed it to her over his shoulder.
She rinsed his back off and set the cloth on the hearth where it hissed and steamed softly. Then with delicate movements she untied the knots on his braids, and finally combed her fingers through them until his hair lay smooth. He noticed that her fingers trembled slightly as she slid them through his hair, and wondered why.
As she slowly poured warm water over his scalp and he felt it trickling down his back, he closed his eyes. And when her gentle fingers began massaging soap into his hair, Legolas no longer cared how foolish this might seem. Leaning back, he sighed and for the first time in days relaxed completely.
"The last time someone washed my hair," he said quietly. "I was but a child and my mother was attempting to bathe my older brother and I. But Franduil insisted on drowning me in the tub when she wasn't looking."
Alede chuckled softly behind him.
"We had been down to the river," he continued, lulled by her gentle touch. "Franduil had been teasing me, as older brothers do. I had finally had enough of his games and pushed him into a muddy fen. Unfortunately, he pulled me in with him. After a long muddy battle, we went home reeking of pond slime with waterweeds tangled in our hair. Our mother was scandalized and dunked us both in the tub. But whenever she turned to put the soap on the ledge, he would push my head under. Franduil was twice my height and weight at that time, so I could little defend myself. The next time Mother turned, I used both my arms to splash him. The resulting tidal wave drenched both Franduil and my mother and nearly emptied the tub. But since he had been causing so much mischief he was blamed for it and not me."
Alede laughed. "It must have been a much bigger bath than this if you could create a tidal wave. Did you ever confess?"
He nodded "Many years later. But Mother had already guessed it by then." He fell silent then, thinking of her. She had been a lovely woman and had understood Legolas' restless discontent with Mirkwood. He'd longed for adventure, new sights and change, while his father had grown more set in his ways. As he grew older Legolas and his father had more and more conflicts. His mother had often been the buffer between the King and his rebellious son.
"I'm sorry about your mother," Alede said behind him. And he did not think to wonder why her voice trembled, but closed his eyes again, relaxing into her touch.
****
"Are you warm enough," Alede asked pulling the blanket up around his shoulders more. She'd placed the chair beside the fire and seated him there.
Legolas nodded sleepily, "Yes, thank you."
Alede stood behind him and combed out his damp hair. She still couldn't believe he was allowing her to touch him like this. His hair was like silk and she'd just finished massaging liniment into his stiff shoulders. His skin was warm and smooth beneath her fingers. Alede knew without a doubt that she could easily become smitten with him. If his fair face had not been enough, his kind gentle manner was. And she had a partiality for Elves that dated from her childhood.
Forcing her mind away from such thoughts, Alede considered Legolas' wounds. He could not put any weight on his right leg, because of the arrow wounds. She suspected that an arrow had chipped the bone, making it extremely painful. But in general all of his wounds were healing well and Sildair's freezing spell had completely left him. Now her biggest concern was for his spirits. She'd tended warriors enough to know that nightmares could fell them as easily as blows. And Elves felt emotions strongly, though they often hid it from those not of their race.
Leaving him by the fire, so that his hair would dry, she gathered up the linens she'd stripped from the bed and dunked them in the left over bath water. As she bent over the tub, she tried to distract him from his thoughts.
"I have never known a dwarf to ride horseback," she said scrubbing the linens vigorously. "I have known some who would ride ponies, but never a horse. Your friend Gimli appears to be quite unusual."
Legolas' head came up and a slight smile touched his lips. "Gimli was on Arod?"
"I know not the horse's name, but he was tall with bright eyes and long limbs and much too tall for a Dwarf to ride."
Legolas' grin widened and Alede groaned inwardly. He had slight dimples when he smiled, a boyish attribute that was incredibly charming in one of the Elder race. *
"Gimli often said that if it were not for me, he would have nothing to do with horses. He claims his feet love the ground too much. Many a journey I have spent with him clutching my back for fear of what he says are treacherous beasts. Yet now, you tell me that he has overcome his fear and ridden alone. I am pleased."
"He was very concerned for you. Your friendship must be very great that he would overcome his own nature for your sake."
Legolas nodded, "I know not if all dwarves are as stout hearted as my friend. But he is truly a wonder to me. I love him as a brother." Legolas fell into thoughtful silence.
Alede finished her washing and by the time she had the tub refilled for her own bath, Legolas was half asleep by the fire. She roused him and helped him back into bed.
She sat well up into the night after her bath, watching him sleep. His eyes were open and softly unfocused. But often his brow furrowed as he struggled with nightmares.
Alede struggled too, telling her heart that it was a treacherous path it had chosen. For Elves rarely strayed outside their own race in matters of love. She would do well to concern herself with his wounds and nothing else.
****
As the days passed, Legolas' wounds healed well and with them his spirits. Alede often distracted him from his immobility by begging for tales of his adventures. She had heard all the songs and stories about the War of the Ring, but to hear it told first hand was a delight.
In turn she told him of her own wanderings. She had traveled much of Middle Earth, going from one village to the next, wherever her healing skills were needed.
"I love birthing babies the most," she said with a soft light in her eyes. "There is much joy in bringing a new life, a new hope into the world."
From time to time she traveled with Rangers, though she had never met the famous Aragorn.
"I have passable skills with a light sword and have never been bested at quarter staff," she told him one day. "Though, when I am traveling alone I prefer to avoid confrontations."
"You did quite well in your confrontation with the Orcs," Legolas praised.
She waved a hand dismissively, "Orcs are no match for a good fire spell."
****
By the fifth day after his awakening, Alede knew she could no longer keep him contained to the upper floor, much less bed. Reluctantly she decided that he could come downstairs. He still could not put any significant weight on his right leg, but they'd perfected a limping/hop for getting him around the room. She supposed they could try it on the stairs as well.
"The sun is well up this morning," Legolas pointed out. He had just finished re-braiding his hair after a morning bath and was still wrapped in only a blanket. He sat beside the fire and looked out the window hungrily. "If the weather holds, the snow will be melted soon."
"You're not going outside," Alede said firmly, knowing full well where this conversation was headed.
"I did not say that I was," he shot back. But Alede saw the determined look on his face and the mischievous twinkle in his eye. She sighed. She knew it would not be long before he'd gotten another concession out of her.
"You are the most troublesome patient I have ever had," she grumbled in mock anger.
Legolas grinned up at her from his position on the chair.
"And I thought I had been a model of equanimity," he said innocently.
Alede laughed and laid a bundle of clothes out on the bed. They were her father's things, a long tunic and loose fitting leggings very similar in shape to what Legolas normally wore but not as well made. They were the deep chestnut color of her father's rank. Her own clothing was of dark green and she'd long since shed the cumbersome wizard's robes that went over it.
"Let me look at your wounds," she said.
Legolas turned, placing his back to the window so she'd have better light. Long practice told him that she'd start with his back.
Alede swept the curtain of his hair aside and pressed the blanket down to his waist. She drew her fingers over the fading scars marveling at his healing abilities. The wound had healed many times faster than a man's. In a month, there would not even be a scar.
Tapping his shoulder to indicate that he should turn around, she knelt at his feet and examined his thigh where the arrows had wounded him. The wounds had healed well on the surface. But the muscle and bone still troubled him where the arrows had sunk deep.
"At least the stitches may come out," she remarked reaching for a tiny knife.
"That is a relief," he answered. "They have been causing me great annoyance."
"Hmm. I can see where you have been scratching them. I thought you promised to leave them alone?" she fixed him with a disapproving eye.
"Alede," he gave her the same disapproving look. "Allow me to sew your leg together and we'll see just how much you scratch at the wound."
She chuckled, "No thank you," and began to carefully slit the tiny threads.
"Ai!" Legolas cried suddenly.
Alede jumped and the knife clattered to the floor.
"Did I cut you?" she asked in alarm.
"No," he said grinning. "But the look on your face was so grave, I could not resist."
She tried to scowl at him, but failed and laughed instead. Those cursed dimples, she thought. He could get away with anything!
Retrieving her knife, she threatened him with it. "Now hold still, or I will cut you."
She finished pulling the stitches without any more incident, though she was conscious of Legolas watching her the whole time. Helping him over to the bed, she turned her back while he dressed and added more logs to the fire. As he sat on the edge of the bed, pulling on his boots, she casually walked to the other side of it. Quietly slipping a pillow from under the blankets, she leaned over and swatted him hard on the shoulder with it.
Legolas gave a cry of surprised amusement and twisted around to grab her. Alede tried to skip out of the way, but his long fingers closed around her wrist and jerked her onto the bed. She squealed as he pried the pillow from her hand and hit her in turn. They were soon laughing and wrestling on the bed.
"No fair," Alede cried when she was hit again. "I have to be careful of your wounds!"
"Must I remind you who started this war?" Legolas asked grinning.
"No!" and she snatched the pillow from him.
They finally stopped when the corner of the pillow burst open and feathers fell on them like snow.
Legolas collapsed on his back. "I can not believe that this winded me," he said breathing hard, but he was smiling.
Alede was breathing hard also and she too, was smiling.
"You'll gain your strength back. You've already healed many times faster than a man would. Be patient."
Legolas blew a feather off of his chin and then turned to her. Patting the bed he indicated that she should lie beside him.
Alede sank gratefully onto the mattress and listened to the sound of their breathing. She had never known such happiness. Did she dare allow herself to care for him? Whether she dared it or not, Alede suspected that her traitorous heart would have its own way.
****
To everyone who has posted reviews, thank you! It means so much! Chapter 7 will be up next weekend.