Part 7b
Despite the languidness of his limbs and the fuzziness about his vision, Legolas' nerves were signing. There was a current of anticipation in his very bones and blood which would not let him rest. Ears straining to pick up any sound beyond the closed room, he let Éowyn's senseless babble flow over him like water over the pebbles of a riverbed.
He attempted to follow her words when she first arrived to speak to him, ignoring the guard standing discreetly by the door but never taking his eyes off his abnormally sluggish form. He thought he caught his father's name and something about an army and the village, but he could not be certain. He found it difficult to focus and retain anything which spilled from her mouth, discovering it put him to sleep more than kept his attention.
In the muffled distance he thought he perceived the sound of hurried footsteps, but he could not be sure with the chatter by his ear. Furrowing his brow, he concentrated harder on the noises outside in the hall but found the drug had ably dulled all his sense. He rolled his head towards Éowyn, who sat on a chair by the head of his bed.
"Be quiet," he attempted to snap, but the command most assuredly came out as a slumberous flop.
Éowyn stopped talking and stared at him, seemingly surprised he was awake at all, let alone coherent enough to be speaking to her.
"Oh, I am sorry, Legolas, were you attempting to sleep, I could"
"I told you to keep silent," Legolas repeated peevishly. "I am attempting to listen to something in the hall."
Éowyn's mouth was drawn in a slight "o," and she turned towards the doorway.
"I hear nothing."
Legolas was about to tell her did not expect her to, until his ears unquestionably caught the distinct sound of footsteps outside in the hall. Moments later the door was flung open as Lenwe and three elven warriors burst in, Gimli and Faramir close on their heels. But it was the splendid figure in royal crimson, gold flashing upon his proud head, which had his complete attention.
His father stood there in the entrance to the room, jaw set, eyes sweeping his surroundings until they settled on him.
Before Legolas could say anything, or even attempt to struggle into a sitting position, Éowyn leapt to her feet and bowed low.
"Your Majesty," she greeted.
His father's attention was diverted to her for a moment before he looked back to Faramir and Gimli.
"Who is this?" he asked, hardly interested but determined to discover who had been left alone with his son.
"This is my wife, Éowyn," Faramir supplied.
Thranduil appeared to accept the reply and strode forward toward the bed forcing Éowyn to step aside with a pointed look and the bulk of his body. Dropping down to his knees, he reached out and smoothed imaginary strands of hair back from Legolas' face.
"Legolas," he crooned, gently thumbing a fading bruise near a prominent cheekbone.
"My lord father," Legolas husked back in Sindarin, swallowing hard when his voice almost failed him.
"None of that," Thranduil smiled gently.
"They will not let me outside," Legolas told him earnestly. "I need to see the sky after…" and this time his voice did crack, tears welling in his eyes.
"Shhh, I know. I will take you outside and away from here," his father promised.
"How did you come to be here?" Legolas asked, perplexed.
The corners of Thranduil's eyes crinkled. "I rode a horse."
Legolas threw him a long-suffering look, and his father chuckled softly. The sound did more to relax Legolas than the entire draught forced upon him.
"I may not have a mirror or Peredhil blood in my veins, but when it comes to my own flesh, blood, and spirit, the wind, rain, and very stones speak to me. I was on my way to you long before you were trapped in the dark."
"And the girl and the villagers?" Legolas asked hopefully.
The softness left Thranduil's face. "Shall be dealt with once you are well."
Satisfied for the moment, Legolas nodded his head and slipped his arms around his father's neck as he bent down to lift him into his arms. As they turned back to the crowd in the room, Lenwe stepped forward to help Thranduil with his burden, but the king shook his head. Legolas, for his part, clung to his father, answering Lenwe and the warriors' bows with a quiet greeting of his own.
"Our healer said he should not go outside in his condition," Faramir interjected as he watched Thranduil make for the door.
"I care for what your healer has to say about as much as a care for orcish poetry. If my son's current state is any indication of his skill, he no doubt confuses his rear end for his elbow." Sweeping past those assembled, the three warriors leading the way through the door and Lenwe following behind him, Thranduil turned one last time. "Remember, no one leaves the city except with my express permission."
"You cannot hold this land hostage indefinitely," Faramired argued. "It is a hostile act and could lead to war."
"I doubt very much Elessar is stupid enough to court conflict with the woodelves over a paltry little village. In fact, if he claims to be such a friend to our people, and to my son in particular, he should aid us and not hinder us." Thranduil looked away from Faramir to stare with overemphasized interest at the uncharacteristically silent dwarf. "Is that not right, Gimli Elf-Friend?"
Gimli was unable to return the look. "I know not," he replied dully.
Thranduil clucked. "Perhaps you should decide before you come calling again," Thranduil
suggested, turning back to leave.
As Gimli watched him go, Legolas, half asleep, peer over his father's shoulder.
"Come this evening, Gimli," he told his friend. "We shall look at the stars like you promised. And bring Arod!"
Giving himself a shake, the dwarf called out. "Aye, I will be there." But by time he spoke, the elves had disappeared through the door and down the hall out of sight.
