Chapter Eight: Repair and Disarray

After much discussion, arguing and debating, they finally decided to call him 'Legolas' which was of the Woodland dialect. Elrond had been opposed to this, but finally gave in when Gandalf wouldn't stop bothering him (he'd even camped out in this office). Glorfindel, decided to remain on friendly terms with both and only offered shrugs when his opinion was asked for. But all parties finally agreed it upon.

~*~*~

"Legolas," he said rolling the new name off his tongue. "It is perfect."

Glorfindel smiled at him from across the bedroom as he settled into an armchair. "I am glad you like it." The newly renamed Legolas smiled at him shyly.

"Do you remember any Sindarian at all?" Glorfindel asked at some length.

Legolas closed his eyes for moment. "Only a little. I understand more than I think I could speak. I just have used it not in so long…all they spoke was the common tongue."

Glorfindel didn't know what to say. Legolas hadn't spoken of his time in captivity at all before this, except to confirm that he was indeed a captive. He didn't want to spook the other elf, so he didn't push for more.

"Would you like to get something to eat?" Glorfindel asked rising from the plush chair. Legolas didn't look so awful anymore, he was still incredibly thin but his face had filled up a bit and he didn't look like he was starving anymore.

Legolas shook his head, a far away look in his eyes. "Not now. Come back and see me later?"

Glorfindel nodded, smiled and pressed a hand to Legolas's shoulder as he walked by. "Of course. I will see you in a bit, Legolas."

~*~*~

"Glorfindel! Come sit with us!" Elladan called waving over to Glorfindel as he entered the dining hall.

"Aye, come Glorfindel!" Elrohir called too. Glorfindel gave in; he walked over to the twins and sat next to Elladan and across from Elrohir.

"How is the Prince?" Elladan asked as soon as Glorfindel was seated.

"We are not certain he is a prince at all," Glorfindel said with a shrug.

The twins exchanged a look. "Oh? And who else could he be, Glorfindel?"

"That is not for me to say. Speak to your father about it," Glorfindel said as he lifted a fork to his lips.

"We cannot ask Father! He keeps telling us to mind our own business."

"It's really not fair at all," Elladan added.

"You are our last resort."

"Well, thank you," Glorfindel said rolling his eyes.

"We mean it not like that," Elrohir said apologetically.

~*~*~

Legolas sat upon his four poster bed, one knee drawn to his chest, his arm dangling loosely about it, and the other leg stretched far out in front of him. There was this funny thing about Freedom—he didn't know what to do with it.

When he was with Them, he knew what was required of him. What his purpose in life was, and when to do what. Now all he had was time.

Time that didn't belong to anyone but himself. He rather liked the notion.

~*~*~

Glorfindel emerged from dining unscathed, if a bit annoyed. The twins could pester the most patient of people (read: Glorfindel) into exasperation. But their questioning attempts proved futile, Glorfindel only humored them with a soft half smile between bites of his dinner.

Now he found himself hesitant to go back to Legolas's room. Only, he couldn't pinpoint what his apprehension was. He had grown quite fond of the elf, and his sly smiles, beautifully carved cheekbones, sparkling silver eyes…Glorfindel blinked, his heart sinking in his chest as full realization was driven home. 

Valar! What kind of thing was that to think about? The elf lord closed his eyes and brushed his obscene thoughts away. He'd promised to see Legolas and he'd keep that promise and nothing more.

~*~*~

A soft knock interrupted Legolas's half meditative state. He rose easily to his feet and opened the beautifully carved door. Glorfindel stood on the other side looking almost uncomfortable; Legolas smiled regardless and let the older into the room.

"Have a nice supper?" Legolas asked sitting again.

Glorfindel smiled and nodded. "Yes."

"Glorfindel," Legolas said softly, hesitantly. "Would you do something for me?"

The other elf smiled again, licked his lower lip and nodded. "Of course, Legolas. What would you have me do?"

Legolas blushed a faint shade of pink, he felt a bit silly asking, but it really couldn't hurt. "Comb my hair?"

Glorfindel laughed and Legolas felt himself flush again. "I would be happy to."

~*~*~

They sat in one of the washing rooms, Legolas on the floor just in front of Glorfindel who sat on a wooden stool, a wooden comb curved into his delicate fingers, his lips pursed in intense concentration. His strokes were gentle and even, Glorfindel never pulled, he carefully coaxed each tangle out of place.

Legolas sat still and patient, even when the comb bit a tad too fiercely at his hair he didn't cry out. If nothing else Legolas had a tolerance for pain. Glorfindel led the comb through the hair again and this time met no resistance. He smiled happily at his success.

 "Finished."

Legolas turned around and smiled at him, his silver gaze meeting Glorfindel's full on. The intensity of it almost made Glorfindel turn away but those silver orbs kept him riveted in place. Finally, he averted his gaze and Glorfindel gave a small sigh.

"Would you like to see?"

Legolas nodded eagerly and got to his feet silently. Glorfindel guided the smaller elf to a mirror. Thin, deft fingers glided effortlessly over the restored hair. It shone brightly in the soft candle lit room.

The smile that Legolas offered Glorfindel, however, was brighter than the princely hair. "Thank you."

Glorfindel smiled back. "You're welcome, Legolas."

Legolas glanced back at the mirror and touched at his temples. He smiled again. "Come back to my room?"

Glorfindel started and then realized that the ethereal elf couldn't possible mean in that way. He offered a tiny smile. "Certainly."

~*~*~

Legolas sat cross-legged on his bed and handed Glorfindel a thin tome. Glorfindel examined the book and read a bit. "Would you like me to read you something?"

The elf nodded happily, childlike and then stretched upon the bed like a tired cat. Glorfindel read a verse that suited his fair voice as Legolas's eyes drifted closed. As the epic poem came to an end Glorfindel lightly stroked Legolas newly restored locks and placed the volume on the table beside Legolas's head and left the room.

"Rest well, Legolas."

~*~*~

Aragorn and the hobbits finally arrived at Imladris, and Aragorn could not have been more pleased to see it. He reassured Sam that his wound would be properly treated and then met the scout who took them directly to Lord Elrond.

Elrond went right to work on Sam's injury which turned out to be not as bad as it had first seemed. The Elf Lord spoke of the comforts the hobbits could make use of while they were in Rivendale, then led them to a nice room not far from his study.

"How is he?" Were the first words that left Aragorn's lips when Elrond faced him. Elrond's eyes danced. He knew the ranger was not referring to Sam but Legolas.

"He is doing much better. Glorfindel has been taking care of him."

Aragorn felt relief wash over him. "May I see him?"

Elrond smiled softly. "Certainly." He told the man he regarded as a son where the elf's room lay and let him to find him.

Aragorn said a brief thank you and scurried toward the room that held the creature that had been holding his thoughts captive for the previous journey. He knocked softly with his knuckles.

He waited a bit anxiously.

And still he waited, but when no answer came, he finally opened the door. The window in the luxurious room was open, a warm breeze blew at the curtains and a book on the night table.

But the elf-waif was not in his room.

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