~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Can you be ready to leave in two week's time?", Legolas popped his head through the door into Laurelin's room, which was in a terrible mess.
"Look at this!", Laurelin said in despair, "I did not even know I had so many possessions". She shook her head sadly. "I do not know if I will be able to leave in a year's time".
Legolas laughed. "It does not matter", he said, "We have all the time in the world".
"I would rather not leave at all", Laurelin said, turning serious. Legolas drew her closer and she rested her head against his shoulder.
"What else would you have me do?", Legolas asked her, "I am helpless. I cannot stay away from Mirkwood, you know that". Laurelin sighed and straightened up once more.
"I know. But I must constantly ask myself why I am sacrificing my beloved home for a conceited young Elf- Prince of Mirkwood. Perhaps you know the answer", she said, with a mischievous smile, "For it is beyond me".
Legolas pulled her back and captured her lips in a passionate kiss.
"I certainly know the answer", he said, kissing her again. So involved were they, that they did not even notice that the door was still half-open.
A maid who had been helping Laurelin with her packing returned just then.
"My lady?", her inquiring voice pulled Legolas and Laurelin back into reality.
"You had better leave now", Laurelin said softly, her cheeks pink, "Or I will never finish packing". She felt an intense desire to burst out laughing.
"One last kiss? To bid farewell?", Legolas wheedled, enjoying his betrothed's discomfort.
Laurelin pecked him on the cheek and shooed him out of the room.
"Only three days now until we are wed", he whispered on his way out.
"You will get what you deserve then, you pest of a prince", Laurelin laughed and Legolas finally extricated himself from the room, lost in dreams of his impending marriage.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Legolas could not sleep. Or rather, he did not want to sleep. In two days, his beloved would leave him. Legolas had saved Laurelin only to lose her again. She was asleep beside him, her face peaceful. He leant over and, pushing away the soft golden hair, he kissed her cheek lightly. Legolas was not sure how he would survive without her. For, of course, he could not stay in Imladris. He had responsibilities in Mirkwood, he had family here. His father-- Legolas realized with a pang that he had neglected his father completely in the past few days-he needed his father. Legolas rose and left the room. Sleep would not come to him that night, he was sure. The night outside was bathed in moonlight, and as Legolas passed a side door leading to the garden, he turned to it.
Moonlit nights were joyous times in the past. On these nights, Laurelin and Legolas had talked until dawn in Imladris, before their marriage. On such nights, feasts and celebrations were held in Mirkwood in the summer, and tales and songs were told and sung long past midnight. Legolas had wonderful memories of moonlit nights.
But all that seemed so far away now, Legolas mused, life now seemed to be only an endless stretch of bleak days, filled with grief and sorrow, anger and rebellion and no happiness at all.
A light footstep behind him caught his attention. Somebody very like Legolas walked into the moonlight, but his features were stronger and wiser. Suddenly, the Elven Prince felt like an elfling once more and he instinctively looked to his father for the comfort he had been denied so long.
"Quel Undome, Ada", Legolas said softly, linking his arm with Thranduil's as he used to long ago.
"It is long past evening, my son. Why are you awake still?", Thranduil knew the answer though. He was grieved to see that sorrow had taken its toll upon his only son. The bright blue eyes were dull and his body had a haggard look that not even hard battle had ever brought to Legolas. Thranduil knew he himself was not much better. The loss of his grandson had affected the king deeply.
"She wants to go away", Legolas said simply, "And I know I cannot go with her".
It was a sacrifice on Legolas' part, Thranduil knew. He was proud of his son, of his strength in the face of grief , and of his immense self- control. It was more than anyone, even he, could have expected.
"Do not grieve", he said suddenly, "For I foresee that your parting, though it will be long and hard to bear, will come to an end. And in that end all your sorrow will cease and joy will return to your hearts".
"Diola lle", Legolas said, embracing his father.
"I mean it, ion nin", Thranduil said, looking deep into his son's eyes. And Legolas believed it with all his heart.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"I cannot believe I have left it", Laurelin said, tears threatening to fall, as she turned around on the horse to catch a last glimpse of Imladris, before it disappeared.
"Are you going to cry again?", Legolas asked her, trying to act insensitive and arrogant, as Laurelin so often liked to tease him about being like that. Legolas was not naturally like that, but he liked to irritate Laurelin by acting insensitive. They made quite a game out of it occasionally.
"Oh! I do not expect you to understand!", Laurelin cried out, "What would you know about leaving your home of five hundred years, all for an irritating elf-Prince?".
She glared at him. Legolas grinned back.
"Laurel, I have a question", he said after a few minutes, "If I am as irritating and arrogant as you make me out to be, why did you bother marrying me at all? After all, you will have to be wed to me for all eternity. And that is quite a long period of time."
Laurelin laughed and reached out to grab his hair and pulled it.
"Because, above all that, I still love you. And you are my irritating elf- Prince, whatever else you may be".
"But am I really that irritating?", Legolas still wanted to know.
"No", Laurelin said, "But you are conceited!". They began to ride forward again.
Legolas suddenly stopped his horse. Consequently, Laurelin stopped hers as well.
He pulled her close, and looking deep into her eyes said, "Am I really?".
"No", said Laurelin, breathlessly, before Legolas kissed her.
"I thought so".
Laurelin laughed and hugged him. She was glad to be with him-her very own incorrigible, unbearable, infuriating, and completely perfect elf-prince.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Laurelin could hardly believe she had left Mirkwood forever. Her parting had been swift and brief, for she had never really accepted or acknowledged Mirkwood as her home.
Imladris was and always would be her home in Middle- Earth. And now she was returning to that beloved home, where no sorrow or harm had ever come to her. Somehow, Laurelin felt everything would become alright again, once she entered Rivendell.
They rode silently for the most part, Laurelin had no wish to talk and Legolas was generally absorbed in the forest. They had only two guards with them, one went in front and the other behind, so they had their privacy.
"Is it not yet time to stop?", Laurelin asked suddenly, as she watched the sun set in the distance.
"Are you tired?", Legolas brought his horse closer to hers, a concerned look on his face.
"No".
Legolas raised an eyebrow and frowned. "Truly?", he asked her.
"Well, I am actually", Laurelin sighed and Legolas smiled. He could always be counted on to know what she felt, even if she did not voice it aloud. She dropped off her horse and walked around, trying to see where they could stay for the night. They settled on a small clearing just off the main path.
"I do believe that this is the same place we stopped at when we were journeying from Imladris to Mirkwood", Legolas said softly, walking into the trees, touching and feeling them.
"Yes,I think it is", Laurelin agreed, leaning against a tree and shutting her eyes. It certainly was the same place and Laurelin could not help but think of how much had happened since that day, twenty years ago.
It has not changed at all", Legolas remarked, laying his cheek against the rough bark of a tree.
"But we have. So much.", Laurelin said, opening her eyes, trying to hold back tears. She could not keep from thinking of how different it might all have been, of what she might have been doing if Elan was living still.
"Do not think of it-of anything", Legolas said softly, pulling her close. She buried her head into his tunic, struggling to keep from crying.
"I cannot help it", she said finally in a muffled voice and Legolas could feel her tears soaking into his clothes. Gently, he moved away and took her face in his hands, wiping away the tears, and holding back his own.
"I know it is hard, I know that it feels like you will never laugh again, but we must move on. We must learn to live again".
"I cannot forget Elan", Laurelin said softly.
"I do not want you to", he reminded her, "I loved him as well, Laurel He was my son". His voice faded away.
"I know", Laurelin, "It is just- difficult- to imagine living like we used to".
"Can you not try? For me?", Legolas looked deep into her eyes, pleading with her silently, begging her to hold on. For his sake. And Laurelin understood.
"Oh Legolas", Laurelin said, embracing him tightly.
Legolas leant his face down to kiss her.
"We will come through it together", he whispered, before kissing her again.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Legolas was quite alarmed to find Laurelin in tears when he returned to their chambers one evening, a month into her pregnancy. Her head was buried in a pillow and she was sobbing quite loudly.
"What is the matter, melamin?", he asked her, gently prying her red-eyed face away from the pillow. He only succeeded in making her sob even more and Legolas grew truly afraid.
"Please, tell me", he coaxed her once more.
"I was sick five times today", she said miserably.
Legolas felt a great wave of relief wash over him.
"My throat burns and my stomach hurts", she continued in the same hoarse voice, "This child is going to kill me, Legolas".
Laurelin was quite surprised when, instead of the comforting words she had expected, Legolas pulled her forward and kissed her.
"I swear to you, I will not let our future son or daughter kill you", he said solemnly, when he had finished kissing her. Laurelin did not miss the amused twinkle in his blue eyes though.
"You are making fun of me!", she wailed.
"No indeed. Would I dare to do such a thing?"
"Yes", Laurelin said, throwing her pillow on his golden head.
"Now", Legolas said, deftly catching the pillow, "Is a pillow-fight something for a pregnant Princess to indulge in?".
"I always heard that pregnant elves are a little mad, so I am allowed to have a pillow-fight with my perpetually mad elf-husband", Laurelin continued to throw every pillow on the bed at Legolas.
"I think you have lost a bit of your intelligence owing to all the extra weight you are carrying--you have given me all the pillows", Legolas said. With a superior air.
"I did not think you would throw the pillows back at me, dignified Prince that you are!", Laurelin ducked as Legolas smothered her with every pillow that he had.
"I will say one thing about you, min cund*, I simply cannot be sad when you are with me!", Laurelin emerged breathless from under all the pillows, her hair tousled.
"Diola lle", Legolas replied absently, thinking how adorable she looked with tousled hair.
"Legolas", Laurelin frowned, "You are not listening to me".
"Oh but I am!", Legolas swept her into his arms and kissed her.
"Legolas, you are simply too much", Laurelin remarked with a laugh.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
It would not be long now, before Laurelin entered Imladris. So much had passed since she had left her home, twenty years ago. Irreversible things had happened since then, and her happiness had been marred forever, but Laurelin still clung on to a tiny hope. The hope that everything would be made instantly better if she returned home. She could find happiness again in the very unchanged nature of her home. Everything had to be the same, it must be the same, as Laurelin had left it. And in that past, unspoilt by grief, she felt she would find a reason to live again. It had to be so, or Laurelin would surely die.
Legolas glanced at her, his spirits rising when he noticed the slight colour in her pale cheeks, and the glow of anticipation in her eyes. He could not remember when he had last seen this much life in her since their son's death. A queer, sad thrill went through him every time he thought of Elan.
Legolas found himself feeling guilty, every time he smiled or thought of happy memories. How could he even think of joy after his son's death? It seemed like disregarding his memory. Legolas knew it was not right, but he pushed it to the back of his mind, thinking to ponder over it all later. He was confronted by a much more disturbing reality. He had known all along, ever since the moment he had vowed to take Laurelin home, that he would be parted from her. But until now, it had seemed like a distant thing. Yet here they were, on the verge of entering Imladris and it hit him like a slap in the face. The thought of the long, lonely days and nights he would have to face in Mirkwood, when he returned-it did not bear thinking about.
Legolas shut his eyes and drew a deep breath, trying to push down the realization of the life he must lead from now on. For her, he told himself sternly, anything for Laurelin.
A light touch on his arm brought him out of his gloomy reverie. He opened his eyes to see Laurelin's questioning look.
"Are you alright?", she asked him, in a concerned voice.
Legolas nodded and forced a slight smile onto his lips, "Perfectly fine".
But Laurelin was not fooled.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Laurel, here is the end to all your sufferings!", Legolas proclaimed, as he held the silver goblet before her. She cast him a doubtful glance before peering into the goblet's contents. She immediately pulled a face and pushed his hand gently away.
"It looks disgusting", she remarked sourly, turning her head sideways.
"Now, is that how you thank your savior?"
"Murderer is more likely", Laurelin remarked sarcastically.
"Laurel, you- must- drink- it, it- is-very- good- for -you", Legolas explained this to her in a painstakingly slow manner, as if he spoke to a child.
"I am not an elfling", she replied.
"Well, I order you to drink it then!", Legolas tried a different approach, quite enjoying using his commanding tone on her.
"Who says I must?", she asked him, raising her eyebrows.
Legolas sighed. The healer had made him promise he would force it down Laurelin's throat if he had to. It was a disgusting draught, Legolas had to admit, he did not envy Laurelin having to drink it. But it was apparently good for pregnant ellyth and it would lessen the sickness.
Legolas resigned himself to playing both the gallant comforter and the evil villain to Laurelin for a while. And he had not enjoyed teasing her so for a long time.
Laurelin was laughing uncontrollably in the next few minutes. It was a pity Legolas had discovered long ago that she was extremely ticklish and knew just how to disarm her. The elven prince seized the opportunity when Laurelin was at her weakest and pushed the goblet and quickly tipped to her lips. He was lightning-quick throughout and his efforts were rewarded by Laurelin coughing and spluttering and half the concoction spilling on the sheets.
"Come now, melamin, will you not drink it for me?", Legolas coaxed her gently.
Laurelin grimaced, but she took the goblet and downed the remaining contents quickly.
"Legolas" she said in a choked voice, a disgusted expression on her face, "Kiss me".
He obligingly kissed her until she pulled away, breathless.
"Is this to be a daily ritual?", she demanded of him.
Legolas nodded, and amused smile on his lips. Laurelin sighed and Legolas took it as a bad sign that she did not scold him for the smile.
"It is only temporary", he said softly. Then Legolas wickedly added, "Only another five months or so".
"Five months!", Laurelin nearly jumped out of the bed.
"As I said before, this child will kill me", she said sadly, shaking her head. Legolas suddenly pulled her into his arms and kissed her forehead.
"And as I said before, 'Not if I can help it'!".
"Can you be ready to leave in two week's time?", Legolas popped his head through the door into Laurelin's room, which was in a terrible mess.
"Look at this!", Laurelin said in despair, "I did not even know I had so many possessions". She shook her head sadly. "I do not know if I will be able to leave in a year's time".
Legolas laughed. "It does not matter", he said, "We have all the time in the world".
"I would rather not leave at all", Laurelin said, turning serious. Legolas drew her closer and she rested her head against his shoulder.
"What else would you have me do?", Legolas asked her, "I am helpless. I cannot stay away from Mirkwood, you know that". Laurelin sighed and straightened up once more.
"I know. But I must constantly ask myself why I am sacrificing my beloved home for a conceited young Elf- Prince of Mirkwood. Perhaps you know the answer", she said, with a mischievous smile, "For it is beyond me".
Legolas pulled her back and captured her lips in a passionate kiss.
"I certainly know the answer", he said, kissing her again. So involved were they, that they did not even notice that the door was still half-open.
A maid who had been helping Laurelin with her packing returned just then.
"My lady?", her inquiring voice pulled Legolas and Laurelin back into reality.
"You had better leave now", Laurelin said softly, her cheeks pink, "Or I will never finish packing". She felt an intense desire to burst out laughing.
"One last kiss? To bid farewell?", Legolas wheedled, enjoying his betrothed's discomfort.
Laurelin pecked him on the cheek and shooed him out of the room.
"Only three days now until we are wed", he whispered on his way out.
"You will get what you deserve then, you pest of a prince", Laurelin laughed and Legolas finally extricated himself from the room, lost in dreams of his impending marriage.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Legolas could not sleep. Or rather, he did not want to sleep. In two days, his beloved would leave him. Legolas had saved Laurelin only to lose her again. She was asleep beside him, her face peaceful. He leant over and, pushing away the soft golden hair, he kissed her cheek lightly. Legolas was not sure how he would survive without her. For, of course, he could not stay in Imladris. He had responsibilities in Mirkwood, he had family here. His father-- Legolas realized with a pang that he had neglected his father completely in the past few days-he needed his father. Legolas rose and left the room. Sleep would not come to him that night, he was sure. The night outside was bathed in moonlight, and as Legolas passed a side door leading to the garden, he turned to it.
Moonlit nights were joyous times in the past. On these nights, Laurelin and Legolas had talked until dawn in Imladris, before their marriage. On such nights, feasts and celebrations were held in Mirkwood in the summer, and tales and songs were told and sung long past midnight. Legolas had wonderful memories of moonlit nights.
But all that seemed so far away now, Legolas mused, life now seemed to be only an endless stretch of bleak days, filled with grief and sorrow, anger and rebellion and no happiness at all.
A light footstep behind him caught his attention. Somebody very like Legolas walked into the moonlight, but his features were stronger and wiser. Suddenly, the Elven Prince felt like an elfling once more and he instinctively looked to his father for the comfort he had been denied so long.
"Quel Undome, Ada", Legolas said softly, linking his arm with Thranduil's as he used to long ago.
"It is long past evening, my son. Why are you awake still?", Thranduil knew the answer though. He was grieved to see that sorrow had taken its toll upon his only son. The bright blue eyes were dull and his body had a haggard look that not even hard battle had ever brought to Legolas. Thranduil knew he himself was not much better. The loss of his grandson had affected the king deeply.
"She wants to go away", Legolas said simply, "And I know I cannot go with her".
It was a sacrifice on Legolas' part, Thranduil knew. He was proud of his son, of his strength in the face of grief , and of his immense self- control. It was more than anyone, even he, could have expected.
"Do not grieve", he said suddenly, "For I foresee that your parting, though it will be long and hard to bear, will come to an end. And in that end all your sorrow will cease and joy will return to your hearts".
"Diola lle", Legolas said, embracing his father.
"I mean it, ion nin", Thranduil said, looking deep into his son's eyes. And Legolas believed it with all his heart.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"I cannot believe I have left it", Laurelin said, tears threatening to fall, as she turned around on the horse to catch a last glimpse of Imladris, before it disappeared.
"Are you going to cry again?", Legolas asked her, trying to act insensitive and arrogant, as Laurelin so often liked to tease him about being like that. Legolas was not naturally like that, but he liked to irritate Laurelin by acting insensitive. They made quite a game out of it occasionally.
"Oh! I do not expect you to understand!", Laurelin cried out, "What would you know about leaving your home of five hundred years, all for an irritating elf-Prince?".
She glared at him. Legolas grinned back.
"Laurel, I have a question", he said after a few minutes, "If I am as irritating and arrogant as you make me out to be, why did you bother marrying me at all? After all, you will have to be wed to me for all eternity. And that is quite a long period of time."
Laurelin laughed and reached out to grab his hair and pulled it.
"Because, above all that, I still love you. And you are my irritating elf- Prince, whatever else you may be".
"But am I really that irritating?", Legolas still wanted to know.
"No", Laurelin said, "But you are conceited!". They began to ride forward again.
Legolas suddenly stopped his horse. Consequently, Laurelin stopped hers as well.
He pulled her close, and looking deep into her eyes said, "Am I really?".
"No", said Laurelin, breathlessly, before Legolas kissed her.
"I thought so".
Laurelin laughed and hugged him. She was glad to be with him-her very own incorrigible, unbearable, infuriating, and completely perfect elf-prince.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Laurelin could hardly believe she had left Mirkwood forever. Her parting had been swift and brief, for she had never really accepted or acknowledged Mirkwood as her home.
Imladris was and always would be her home in Middle- Earth. And now she was returning to that beloved home, where no sorrow or harm had ever come to her. Somehow, Laurelin felt everything would become alright again, once she entered Rivendell.
They rode silently for the most part, Laurelin had no wish to talk and Legolas was generally absorbed in the forest. They had only two guards with them, one went in front and the other behind, so they had their privacy.
"Is it not yet time to stop?", Laurelin asked suddenly, as she watched the sun set in the distance.
"Are you tired?", Legolas brought his horse closer to hers, a concerned look on his face.
"No".
Legolas raised an eyebrow and frowned. "Truly?", he asked her.
"Well, I am actually", Laurelin sighed and Legolas smiled. He could always be counted on to know what she felt, even if she did not voice it aloud. She dropped off her horse and walked around, trying to see where they could stay for the night. They settled on a small clearing just off the main path.
"I do believe that this is the same place we stopped at when we were journeying from Imladris to Mirkwood", Legolas said softly, walking into the trees, touching and feeling them.
"Yes,I think it is", Laurelin agreed, leaning against a tree and shutting her eyes. It certainly was the same place and Laurelin could not help but think of how much had happened since that day, twenty years ago.
It has not changed at all", Legolas remarked, laying his cheek against the rough bark of a tree.
"But we have. So much.", Laurelin said, opening her eyes, trying to hold back tears. She could not keep from thinking of how different it might all have been, of what she might have been doing if Elan was living still.
"Do not think of it-of anything", Legolas said softly, pulling her close. She buried her head into his tunic, struggling to keep from crying.
"I cannot help it", she said finally in a muffled voice and Legolas could feel her tears soaking into his clothes. Gently, he moved away and took her face in his hands, wiping away the tears, and holding back his own.
"I know it is hard, I know that it feels like you will never laugh again, but we must move on. We must learn to live again".
"I cannot forget Elan", Laurelin said softly.
"I do not want you to", he reminded her, "I loved him as well, Laurel He was my son". His voice faded away.
"I know", Laurelin, "It is just- difficult- to imagine living like we used to".
"Can you not try? For me?", Legolas looked deep into her eyes, pleading with her silently, begging her to hold on. For his sake. And Laurelin understood.
"Oh Legolas", Laurelin said, embracing him tightly.
Legolas leant his face down to kiss her.
"We will come through it together", he whispered, before kissing her again.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Legolas was quite alarmed to find Laurelin in tears when he returned to their chambers one evening, a month into her pregnancy. Her head was buried in a pillow and she was sobbing quite loudly.
"What is the matter, melamin?", he asked her, gently prying her red-eyed face away from the pillow. He only succeeded in making her sob even more and Legolas grew truly afraid.
"Please, tell me", he coaxed her once more.
"I was sick five times today", she said miserably.
Legolas felt a great wave of relief wash over him.
"My throat burns and my stomach hurts", she continued in the same hoarse voice, "This child is going to kill me, Legolas".
Laurelin was quite surprised when, instead of the comforting words she had expected, Legolas pulled her forward and kissed her.
"I swear to you, I will not let our future son or daughter kill you", he said solemnly, when he had finished kissing her. Laurelin did not miss the amused twinkle in his blue eyes though.
"You are making fun of me!", she wailed.
"No indeed. Would I dare to do such a thing?"
"Yes", Laurelin said, throwing her pillow on his golden head.
"Now", Legolas said, deftly catching the pillow, "Is a pillow-fight something for a pregnant Princess to indulge in?".
"I always heard that pregnant elves are a little mad, so I am allowed to have a pillow-fight with my perpetually mad elf-husband", Laurelin continued to throw every pillow on the bed at Legolas.
"I think you have lost a bit of your intelligence owing to all the extra weight you are carrying--you have given me all the pillows", Legolas said. With a superior air.
"I did not think you would throw the pillows back at me, dignified Prince that you are!", Laurelin ducked as Legolas smothered her with every pillow that he had.
"I will say one thing about you, min cund*, I simply cannot be sad when you are with me!", Laurelin emerged breathless from under all the pillows, her hair tousled.
"Diola lle", Legolas replied absently, thinking how adorable she looked with tousled hair.
"Legolas", Laurelin frowned, "You are not listening to me".
"Oh but I am!", Legolas swept her into his arms and kissed her.
"Legolas, you are simply too much", Laurelin remarked with a laugh.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
It would not be long now, before Laurelin entered Imladris. So much had passed since she had left her home, twenty years ago. Irreversible things had happened since then, and her happiness had been marred forever, but Laurelin still clung on to a tiny hope. The hope that everything would be made instantly better if she returned home. She could find happiness again in the very unchanged nature of her home. Everything had to be the same, it must be the same, as Laurelin had left it. And in that past, unspoilt by grief, she felt she would find a reason to live again. It had to be so, or Laurelin would surely die.
Legolas glanced at her, his spirits rising when he noticed the slight colour in her pale cheeks, and the glow of anticipation in her eyes. He could not remember when he had last seen this much life in her since their son's death. A queer, sad thrill went through him every time he thought of Elan.
Legolas found himself feeling guilty, every time he smiled or thought of happy memories. How could he even think of joy after his son's death? It seemed like disregarding his memory. Legolas knew it was not right, but he pushed it to the back of his mind, thinking to ponder over it all later. He was confronted by a much more disturbing reality. He had known all along, ever since the moment he had vowed to take Laurelin home, that he would be parted from her. But until now, it had seemed like a distant thing. Yet here they were, on the verge of entering Imladris and it hit him like a slap in the face. The thought of the long, lonely days and nights he would have to face in Mirkwood, when he returned-it did not bear thinking about.
Legolas shut his eyes and drew a deep breath, trying to push down the realization of the life he must lead from now on. For her, he told himself sternly, anything for Laurelin.
A light touch on his arm brought him out of his gloomy reverie. He opened his eyes to see Laurelin's questioning look.
"Are you alright?", she asked him, in a concerned voice.
Legolas nodded and forced a slight smile onto his lips, "Perfectly fine".
But Laurelin was not fooled.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Laurel, here is the end to all your sufferings!", Legolas proclaimed, as he held the silver goblet before her. She cast him a doubtful glance before peering into the goblet's contents. She immediately pulled a face and pushed his hand gently away.
"It looks disgusting", she remarked sourly, turning her head sideways.
"Now, is that how you thank your savior?"
"Murderer is more likely", Laurelin remarked sarcastically.
"Laurel, you- must- drink- it, it- is-very- good- for -you", Legolas explained this to her in a painstakingly slow manner, as if he spoke to a child.
"I am not an elfling", she replied.
"Well, I order you to drink it then!", Legolas tried a different approach, quite enjoying using his commanding tone on her.
"Who says I must?", she asked him, raising her eyebrows.
Legolas sighed. The healer had made him promise he would force it down Laurelin's throat if he had to. It was a disgusting draught, Legolas had to admit, he did not envy Laurelin having to drink it. But it was apparently good for pregnant ellyth and it would lessen the sickness.
Legolas resigned himself to playing both the gallant comforter and the evil villain to Laurelin for a while. And he had not enjoyed teasing her so for a long time.
Laurelin was laughing uncontrollably in the next few minutes. It was a pity Legolas had discovered long ago that she was extremely ticklish and knew just how to disarm her. The elven prince seized the opportunity when Laurelin was at her weakest and pushed the goblet and quickly tipped to her lips. He was lightning-quick throughout and his efforts were rewarded by Laurelin coughing and spluttering and half the concoction spilling on the sheets.
"Come now, melamin, will you not drink it for me?", Legolas coaxed her gently.
Laurelin grimaced, but she took the goblet and downed the remaining contents quickly.
"Legolas" she said in a choked voice, a disgusted expression on her face, "Kiss me".
He obligingly kissed her until she pulled away, breathless.
"Is this to be a daily ritual?", she demanded of him.
Legolas nodded, and amused smile on his lips. Laurelin sighed and Legolas took it as a bad sign that she did not scold him for the smile.
"It is only temporary", he said softly. Then Legolas wickedly added, "Only another five months or so".
"Five months!", Laurelin nearly jumped out of the bed.
"As I said before, this child will kill me", she said sadly, shaking her head. Legolas suddenly pulled her into his arms and kissed her forehead.
"And as I said before, 'Not if I can help it'!".
