Chapter 13: Apologies
Tee hee hee!
******************************************************************************************
Legolas strode proudly to his sister's chambers, an air of confidence about him. He knew that Boromir had hurt Kit in the worst way possible: by calling her weak. He had heard this from Aragorn himself, whom had comforted his friend at the time. A triumphant smile lighting his youthful features, he strode quietly in and opened his mouth to speak. It closed as a guilty pang struck him in the gut.
Kit was curled up underneath her sheets, facing away from the door, almost silent sobs shaking her willowy body. Legolas closed his eyes in reverence: everything was so difficult for her in recent times, and yet she somehow charged through her trials, shrugging them off as easily as a butterfly on her shoulder. Now she finally seemed to be breaking.
He advanced to her bedside and brushed away a stray strand of crimson hair from her paling face. She shook his hand away, warning him with baring fangs. He heeded it and sat down beside her, awkwardly settling a hand on her hip. "I heard of what happened," he said. "I do not know your pain, but I realize that you must be in sheer agony." "I am," she whispered back, her eyes shining in the waning moon. Suddenly, she lifted herself and threw her arms around his waist, burying her head under his chin.
"It was my fault entirely!" she wailed as he stroked her back with reassuring sounds that her uttered from deep in his throat. He looked up as Boromir, looking thoroughly nervous, appeared at the door. "I shall leave both of you alone," he said to his sister before leaving with a small smile to her lover. With a sigh, he closed the door behind him and left.
******************************************************************************************
Boromir approached his beloved cautiously, suddenly aware of all her strength in the tensed muscles that visibly rippled under the smooth white skin. She watched him, her emotion hidden by an expressionless mask, and Boromir, uncomfortable, lowered his eyes as she had done, yet he still approached her.
He was soon by her side, slipping an arm around her shoulders….
The next thing he knew, he was lying on the floor, his head spinning.
Kit was standing over him, nearly panting from exertion; yet she wore a smirk that said it all. She was merely taking revenge for what he had done to her. He tried to stand, but a wave of dizziness engulfed him and he found himself on the floor again. Her desires filled, Kit took him into her arms, taking him to the bed. She set him gently against the pillows, then paused as she felt hot, sticky blood on her fingers at the back of his head. "I'm…I'm…sorry…" she stuttered, her emotion slowly filtering through the wall that she had built up over the many years she had spent killing others for the good of Middle-Earth.
"Think nothing of it," Boromir whispered as he tried to sit, but the new weakness in his back would not let him. With a groan, he sank back into soft comfort as he watched his Kit dip a rag in the wash basin under her small mirror hanging on the wall. She lifted his head and settled in on her shoulder to steady him as she began to massage the wet cloth over his small wound.
Finally, she finished. Boromir dozed in the crook of her neck, the combination of warm water and Kit's gentle touch soothing his painfully tensed muscles to such that he nearly slept. She chuckled lightly, her intentionally bruising kiss waking him fully. She helped him stand and led him once again out onto the moonlit balcony.
"What do you want most in the world?" he asked her. Kit was silent, gazing at him out of the corner of her eye….
The next thing he knew, he was lying on the bed beneath her….