Hey guys! I was trying to get this up yesterday, but the log-in was disabled because of site updates... I think. Oh, well, clearly it's working now. So, here's my holliday gift to my loyal readers: an early update!
Zeriae: Well, wouldn't want you to get bored, would I?
The Hobbit Ivy: Because it was fun! Are you sure she's getting a clue? Hmm...
brownie & elvenstar5 : not really blind, but not very intuitive, either. An unintuitive elf... I guess I do have an imagination, after all (I've been accused of lacking one on occasion).
sarah: Yup! On both counts, though a very resounding one on the first. But I've been so cramned into my books that I'll actually be able to relax for the holliday--wonder of wonders!
IvannethFuin: Tanthien wants what someone else has...
sharon: Would it be totally bizarre for me to admit that I have cried for him? It's painful to write this sometimes, but once i step back a bit, I love the angst.
LJP: Well... unfortunately, not quite. You'll see ;)
SofiaB: Yeah... they're related. You should be able to tell from the first line of The Worry Stone.
Animir: I've had that same thing happen. I read a story all at once, then think, yeah, I'll send that to Tsalagiwesa for her C2 or her favs, and then I go to bed, and I stare at the pictures, and I think... wait a minute. That is so wrong. That can't work! And why would she... (you get the idea)... and then I don't send them because I think myself out of liking them.
And to everyone else who reviewed: Thank you very much, andhappy break!
Chapter 21
Lunian was laughing, exhilaration flooding her as she watched the trials of the 'tried warriors'. Some of the elves who had been born around her time or even later called it the ancient's trials. After all, any elf who was qualified to test their skill there had been tested in the previous age in the wilds of Middle-Earth.
"What's happening?" Nallina asked when she gained a seat beside Lunian in the tree they usually used, frowning at the stillness in the arena below.
"Glorfindel and Haldir just finished swordplay. Glorfindel won, which outs Haldir, since Legolas beat him at archery." She tilted her head as she reached up, pushing the branch out of the way so she could see better. "Tanthien and Elladan are up now."
Nallina hid her distaste, but watched the spar with growing concern. "He's wild…" She bit her lip and looked at Lunian, who was watching the match with a concerned gaze of her own.
"And angry," she agreed, frowning. "Why would he be angry? Everyone else is projecting so much calm it's almost laughable."
Chewing her lip, Nallina shook her head once more. "I don't know… but your uncle seems to feel it as well."
Lunian let out the breath she had been holding when Elladan didn't avoid a simple move he could have, effectively ending the spar. Tanthien seemed to be the only one unaware of Elladan's choice to lose. "That's over," she sighed in relief.
"Not entirely," Nallina winced. "He will be fighting again in two matches."
Lunian's throat dried up. "Against… against Legolas," she breathed, instantly seeking the prince out, finding him talking solemnly to Glorfindel and her father, his eyes nearly black. He had seen… he glanced at her, his eyes locking onto her. Slowly she shook her head. His eyes darkened fully, his jaw setting as he slowly shook his head back at her. He wouldn't stand down. He wouldn't give in. Slowly she lowered her eyes. She knew she could push it… and she could possibly convince him… but she wouldn't do that to him. He saw Tanthien as a young elf, as he saw her, and wouldn't back down against him. She let out a deep breath, tightening her grip on the branch she was sharing with Nallina.
"Lunian?"
"He saw… and he'll fight."
Nallina's worry crashed through her as Nallina began abusing her lip once more. "Do you… do you think it wise?"
"I think there's nothing else he can do. Unlike Elladan, he's got a reputation to defend. He could withdraw, because of Tanthien's wild blows… but Tanthien would see it as a victory, which he won't accept." Lunian felt his eyes, turning back to see he and Glorfindel were looking at her. She offered them a faint smile, before inclining her head slightly.
The tense line of Legolas's shoulders relaxed, a small smile touching his lips. He bowed his head to her before turning his attention back to the sparring match.
Lunian smiled again, relaxing slightly, but a watched feeling made her look up to see bright blue eyes ice over in anger. His rage was almost tangible, and for the first time in this life, she knew what it was like to look into the eyes of someone she feared. She turned back to see Legolas had noted the look as well. He glanced at her, a promise in his eyes.
Their match was called.
Lunian sat stiffly, watching Tanthien's wild first swing. Her breath held tightly to her throat as Legolas countered quickly, moving with a deadly precision he had lacked in previous fights. A soft murmur went through the gathered warriors. All had seen the change with her, their worry rising to choke her… as if her own wasn't enough. She let out a small laugh, swallowing thickly.
Tanthien was getting agitated, clearly. His rage and disgust were filling the air, making her wish more than ever that she didn't have this 'gift.' She focused on Legolas, letting his perfect calm soothe her. Then another wild blow made him jump back, his eyes narrowing fractionally before his barriers slammed up.
That more than anything worried her. He rarely did that, unless he was thinking on things that he thought would trouble her. Or that he didn't want her to feel. There was no reason for that here, now.
She focused on him, solely on him, trying to find a weakness in his time-strengthened barriers. She found a small chink, and pushed her way in, only to know instantly why he hadn't wanted her monitoring him. He was chillingly angry—furious, but it felt… almost like he fully accepted it, embraced it. As if it was his right to feel this anger.
With a frown she withdrew, watching as Tanthien continued to take wild shots, while Legolas blocked every move as if he knew three steps ahead of time what was coming, which only made Tanthien wilder.
The gentle bantering that usually filled the air even as two warriors sparred had long since ceased, allowing her to hear a collective intake of breath when Legolas stopped blocking, and began attacking. Within moments, Tanthien was disarmed, breathing heavily as he stared at Legolas's blade where it remained poised between him and his sword.
Legolas was declared the winner, his stance slowly relaxing. She let out a caught breath, closing her eyes in relief. They snapped open again at a surge of sound. Opening her eyes she saw Legolas standing over his discarded sword, his tunic stained darkly. Tanthien's sword was being held off by two other blades, but the red on it seemed to shimmer brightly in the sun.
Lunian was only aware Nallina had been holding her hand when it was released to allow her friend to cover a gasp even as she leapt from the tree, unaware of her less than perfect landing as she raced to Legolas's side, even as others moved to separate the two fighters.
Even when she reached him the two were staring each other down. Legolas's eyes were so dark she couldn't believe they had ever been blue, Tanthien's so frosted she couldn't believe they had been bright. Her father and uncle were trying to move Legolas, but he was so focused on Tanthien he didn't seem aware of them. The blood spread, dripping now from his fingertips to the ground.
He needed treatment, but he wasn't listening to anyone. She looked up at Tanthien, then turned to Legolas. "Egola? Egola, please," she beseeched him, dropping her head to his shoulder, running her hand up and down his uninjured arm. "Egola?"
Her eyes closed as a large hand slipped into her hair, cupping her skull to hold her close. "It's alright, little one," he murmured softly, bending his head down beside hers.
"You're bleeding," she whispered, lifting her head to look at him.
His eyes had lightened quite a bit, a smile touching his lips. "I've had worse," he teased, before the hand on her shoulder tightened along with his lips.
She felt him waver slightly, and quickly wrapped an arm around him. "I don't care what you say, you're going to have it taken care of."
"Lunian," he laughed, voice rough.
"Now," she insisted, letting the world see her pulling him along.
He tightened his hold on her when they reached his room. Her grandfather entered, peered at the wound, and left his supplies with a pat on her shoulder. "You'll be fine once Lunian takes care of you."
Lunian blinked at him, but the pain was beginning to get to Legolas again, making his face pale this time. She urged him gently to the chest at the foot of his bed, looking anxiously at the wound… and found she couldn't really, with his shirt in the way.
Feeling heat enter her ears and begin making its way down her cheeks, she untied his tunic, helping him ease it down and off. His undershirt paused her. It had to come off…
Legolas smiled faintly, seeing her uncertainty. "Could you get the guard?" he asked softly, motioning at the injured arm as he opened his shirt. Once the leather guard had been removed—very gently—he offered her his other arm, before shrugging half free of his undershirt. He took a bracing breath before peeling it from the wound.
"Valar," she breathed.
He looked up, and instantly reached for her, taking her hand, bringing it to rest over his heart after pressing a kiss to her palm. "I'm still here," he reminded her, waiting until she had relaxed to look at the wound himself. Another round of dizziness hit him, the room beginning to dim. He clenched his teeth as he had the other times, willing himself back to full consciousness. She needed him awake, and aware. "It won't look so bad when it's been cleaned, lo…"
"Legolas?"
"I'm fine."
She looked at him dryly.
"I will be fine," he amended. "Once you get me cleaned up and some smelly paste on my arm."
She blinked for a moment before chuckling. "How often have you done this?"
"Too often to count, Milady."
She smiled, picking up one of the cloths her grandfather had left to gently clean around the wound, before moving to the water pitcher, pouring out some water to help. Seeing the basin turn red with his blood made her stomach churn.
"Lunian."
She braced herself and turned to him, trying to make herself believe it was Elladan, or Ethwan, or even Glorfindel—she had tended to wounds for them before… and it had never affected her quite like this, though she didn't like to see any of them suffer.
"You could call your father, uncle or grandfather if you would rather," the suggestion was gentle, and completely understanding.
Lunian let out a shaky breath, moving to his uninjured side to wrap her arms around his middle, laying her cheek against the skin of his shoulder. His sweat made their skin stick together, but still she relaxed, drawing in his scent before lifting her head, placing a kiss to his shoulder before getting up, returning to the wound with new determination. She looked up to ask if the cloth she had wound around the bandage to hold it in place was too tight, but stilled when she met his eyes.
His free hand came up, brushing her hair gently back from her face, tucking it slowly behind her ears. "Not so difficult," he whispered.
"I have tended wounds before," she murmured softly.
He lifted a brow.
She felt her ears heat yet again. "They were never intentionally inflicted, though… which makes this so much worse," she swallowed heavily, trying to rid herself of the lump in her throat.
He smiled gently, his thumb brushing beneath her eyes as if to clean the tears she wouldn't shed. "I shall be fine, soon."
She was about to respond when he glanced up at the door. A moment later it opened, showing Glorfindel, her father, and the trial 'master'—the elf who made all of its decisions in case of tie or cheating, including the when and where of the competitions. She'd seen him on numerous occasions, but she had no idea what his name was.
"Orthalen," Legolas murmured, a slight frown touching his brow.
"Just come to see how you are," the elf replied to the unasked question, even as Glorfindel and her father tried to see the wound. Her father finally moved forward, grimacing when he saw the amount of blood lost. "How long will your recovery take?"
Legolas looked at his arm, slowly curling his hand into a fist, no pain apparent upon his features. When he tried to lift his entire arm, though, he sucked in a quick breath, his teeth grinding audibly together as he went pale once more. "Longer than I would like," he answered at last, looking up. "It feels like the muscle is completely rent in two."
"The trials shall resume in two months time. If you are unable to compete then, you will be withdrawn from this year's trials." Orthalen made a face, as if something bitter had just touched his tongue. "Tanthien has been pulled, and will never be allowed to compete again."
Legolas nodded once, before looking back down at his clenched fist. He relaxed it slowly, his eyes closing, a faint wince narrowing his eyes for the birth of an instant before he controlled it.
Orthalen left, leaving Glorfindel and Elrohir to approach. Legolas looked up with a wry smile. "I know, I know. Guard was down."
"You expected him to fight with more honor than an orc," Glorfindel spat. "A just expectation."
"Not to mention your back was turned. That you countered the blow as much as you did was indication enough of how little your guard had fallen, old friend. Little one, do clean off the blood a bit better."
She rolled her eyes but wet a clean cloth, brushing at the uninjured skin that had been dyed the ghastly reddish-brown. As she did so, she found herself finding dozens of small marks on his skin, more than she had noticed before, more than he wore across his back. Not one of the marks she could see was a blemish, a mar on his lightly radiant skin. Each was a silent testament to his bravery, his skill as a warrior, his dedication to the service of his King and people.
She forgot him, sometimes, getting caught up in the annoying day-to-day things with him. She forgot he was a warrior, a prince, and well over four thousand years. It made her feel so young when she thought about that. Still, he had never treated her as a mere child.
Finished with his skin, she reached the cloth up, pulling some blood from his hair. He didn't wince or complain as she accidentally pulled some hairs as well. When she was done with that she moved to the bed behind him, taking out the braids, combing through his hair with her fingers.
"What was going on, Legolas?" Glorfindel asked softly.
Legolas shook his head slightly, getting lightly smacked for his efforts by Lunian, who had to restart his braids. "He wanted to beat me. He couldn't."
"Oh, very elegant and articulate, prince," Lunian snorted.
Legolas chuckled softly, turning his head obediently to the side for the next braid. "What else is there to say, Milady?"
She frowned at him, then turned his head the other way to put the final braid in place. "Do you know why he was so wild?"
"He was angry."
"I think it's usually my place to say that," she murmured dryly. Then she stilled, and slowly shook her head. "Angry doesn't cover it, Egola. He was enraged beyond reason… You were angry."
The other elves in the room perked up with interest at that statement, looking curiously at Legolas, who had lowered his eyes. "I had the right," he stated at last, bringing dark eyes up to flash into hers.
"I know that's how you felt, but why?"
He shook his head slightly. "Let it go, little one."
She glared at him, then got up with a huff, digging out a new shirt for him to wear. She helped him ease it on, then fastened it up as her father created a sling. She stepped back when he was done, and noted he hadn't moved. Small lines had appeared around his mouth, indicating strain where no other part of him did. "Idiot elf," she sighed, bending down to help draw him to his feet. "Surely with us you can admit it hurts?"
"My pain—" he cut off, closing his eyes and slumping against her. She could hear his heart, the weakness of his pulse troubling. "My pain is known," he finally managed, straightening slightly, though still giving her much of his weight as she moved to the bed.
"Father," she murmured, glaring at the two immobile elves.
It was Glorfindel who moved to turn the covers down, moving them aside so she and Legolas could sit at the edge of the bed. "Lunian, turn on your side, taking him with you."
She could feel Legolas's annoyance, but followed Glorfindel's instruction, slipping carefully out from under the wounded warrior, her hand at his neck to help him ease down. Once he was down entirely, she moved the pillow for him, brushing his hair over his shoulder. She knelt on the floor, bringing her to eye level. "Comfortable?" she asked softly, unaware of the slow arches her thumb was making over his cheek until he nodded. Even then she didn't pause the motion, following it with her eyes.
Legolas closed his eyes, his teeth clenching for a moment before relaxing.
Elrohir understood that reaction, and had mixed feelings about it. "Come on, Lunian. He won't rest until there's no one to watch."
Legolas's eyes opened, fixing on him in annoyance. Elrohir chuckled softly, while Glorfindel smiled slightly as well, both moving to the door.
"Will you be alright alone?"
"The herbs are slowly numbing the pain, Milady," he answered softly. "I'll manage."
She looked at him for a long moment, slowly getting to her feet. Once there, the huge feeling of wrongness hit her strongly. It felt horribly incorrect to leave him like this. "Legolas," she began, but paused when he slowly moved to his back, bracing his injured arm with his other one.
"Lunian?" he asked softly, looking at her. "If you wish," he murmured after a long moment, "you may stay."
"Will you rest?"
He smiled faintly. "Yes."
Slowly she nodded, sitting on the bed for a long moment before finally giving in with a sigh, laying down beside him, her head on his shoulder, one hand lifting to cover his heart. Her eyes drifted closed as his good arm wrapped around her waist, the other shifting slightly so his hand covered hers.
Together, they relaxed and entered their dreams.
Elrohir slowly cracked the door open when several minutes had failed to bring his daughter from Legolas's room. He glanced in, a faint smile touching his lips.
"Elrohir?"
"They are at peace," he answered, closing the door.
Glorfindel considered the door thoughtfully, and sighed. "But for how long?"
Elrohir smiled. "I think she has much to think about when she wakes."
