Chapter 25 What he did
In her eyes he could see a flicker of the hate he hadn't seen in months, but he thought he understood… not that it hurt any less. "Nothing more than murmur another name after the binding."
He let out a breath, letting his eyes fall as he processed her words. "I was—"
"Intoxicated."
"I was going to say drunk, but if you want to be nice about it, intoxicated works."
She stared at him, not moving, still tense.
He sighed and started to run a hand through his hair, only to come back with a leaf. He grimaced and shook his head. "I didn't know, Linir."
She muttered a word that sounded rather like a curse, but he didn't know that particular dwarven dialect to be sure.
"You left during the night?"
She shook her head. "I would not sneak out like a thief in the midst of night. I left just before dawn."
"I had obviously had quite a bit to drink, or I wouldn't have…"
"Bedded your little brother's best friend," she inserted.
He grimaced again, but nodded, accepting her words. "I didn't know who I was with…"
There was a faint twitch around her eyes—a flinch she wouldn't quite allow herself.
"When I woke, I did so with all the joy and happy contentment I'd imagine you'd felt…"
"Before you spoke," she cut in.
He covered his eyes and sighed. "Silrinil, please. I know why you must sometimes hate me, but please, we need to get this out."
After watching him for a long while she blew out an exasperated breath and hauled him to his feet, nearly carrying him into the bathroom.
"Um… Linir?"
"I'm not going to drown you," she muttered, before walking into the spring, still pulling him along. "But I can't handle talking about old wounds while you have new ones that haven't been tended."
With that, she set to work, loosening the braids in his hair, stripping him of his tunic and undershirt, his boots and leggings. She left to get her pack, bringing it into the room only to overturn it onto the floor, catching the rolling jars before they could wander very far.
Tender fingers explored his bruises, the few small scrapes, soothing and healing as only she could. When she reached his legs he tensed slightly, waiting for the gentle fingers to become rough as his bones were straightened.
She didn't disappoint.
Without scolding him for his language she waited for the pain to ease before reaching for the soap, helping him get clean. She even combed his hair before hauling him out of the water, carrying him bodily to her bed where she wrapped his breaks and wounds as best she could. She returned to the bathing room and reappeared a few minutes later, clean and changed. She sat facing him, and waited.
Taking a deep breath, he nodded slightly. "I wasn't against the binding, Linir. I would never be against a true binding, especially my own. I didn't even know it had happened…" he shook his head with a faint snort. "I missed the one I'd thought I'd been with, but there was no evidence I had been with anyone, so I had just tried to convince myself it had been nothing more than the wine and a dream when Elleri ran through my room to reach yours. I had to look after him. I didn't have time to think about it for quite a while…"
"And by then you were sure it was a dream?"
He nodded, closing his eyes. "I am sorry, for what it's worth. I shouldn't have been drunk, to begin with, but to call you by another's name was unforgivable."
After a long silence she reached out, lightly touching his hand. He turned it until they were aligned a bit better, and relaxed slightly at the contact. "If our places were reversed, what would you have done?"
"Entirely reversed?"
She nodded.
He tugged on her hand, encouraging her forward a bit until their hips were touching. Then he thought about her question. If he had been the rather young—almost too young—Lady Silrinil, just bedded by her best friend's elder brother who also happened to be the crowned prince, and the son of the elf who had taken her in as if kin when her own parents died… he frowned suddenly. "Were you drunk, too?"
"I… was a little more so than I would usually have been…"
"But not so that you are unclear as to what happened."
She shook her head, ears darkening.
He found that rather charming, but forced himself to pick up his thoughts again. "Why did you let me bed you, Silrinil?"
With a sigh she looked somewhat away, but didn't pull her hand from his. "Elleri and I always looked up to you, Legolas. It was a sort of hero-worship at times, and…"
He blinked at her. "I didn't notice you looking at me like that."
"I didn't want you to. I didn't want Elleri to know, much less you."
He nodded slightly. Okay. So, if he had been her, just bedded by her best friend's older brother on whom she had been harboring a secret infatuation with, only to have the elf with whom she'd just unwittingly bound her soul murmur another she-elf's name before settling down to well-deserved rest… He sighed. "At the least, I would not have been in that bed come morning." He leaned his head back against the wall. "Perhaps I would have run, too… but that showed courage I wouldn't have credited you with, then."
"I discovered I was stronger and more stubborn than even Elleri might ever have guessed that dreadful morning. I grew up rather quickly, I guess you could say."
He tightened his hand around hers. "Then why did you come back?"
"I… I was aware of the binding, Legolas. I could feel it. It pulled at me whenever I was near the wood. From time to time I would wait, see if I thought I could go back. But every time I heard your voice or saw you I would end up feeling so torn I had to leave again. When I first left I swore I would never tell you…"
"Why?" he asked, his frustrations from the past months erupting in harsh tones. "What if I had unknowingly tried to marry?"
She flinched, paling.
"You hadn't thought of that, had you?" he asked softly, his anger drained by her telling reaction. He released her hand to lightly caress her cheek. "You just thought about your own pain and embarrassment, and didn't consider what it might be like for me when you came back."
Her frown told him she wasn't following.
"I didn't know our souls are bound, Silrinil. Can you imagine how much it worried me to be so worried for you in Imladris that I could feel that you were in desperate need of aid?" He forced her head back when she looked away. "How much I despised myself for wanting to get closer to you, while wanting to send you back to your mate? I've had to distance myself from you so I didn't do something that was totally inappropriate, considering that you were already married!"
"To you!" she shot back.
He held her head in place when she tried to jerk away in her anger. "But I didn't know that. After nearly three thousand years of being the controlled crowned prince, do you know how unsettling it was to have you return? To find myself unable to ignore you, to let you go? No matter how much I hated or wanted you, I couldn't seem to just relegate you to the position of soldier. You were always more… and I didn't understand why."
Her lashes lowered to hide her eyes.
"It was because my soul recognized you, knew about our bond, and wanted to deepen it. Or haven't you felt it too?" His last words were almost a whisper, but they had effect.
A shiver ran over her frame, her lids slowly rising to fasten intense dark grey eyes upon him. Flashes from the night forgotten flitted before his eyes—skin on skin, a pant, a breathy sigh, a fevered groan. A low sound escaped him, and whoever had moved, it didn't matter. They were locked together in a savage kiss, one that brought the faint memories to shame.
It wasn't until he tried to move her that he recalled his injuries, his body stiffening against hers.
"Legolas?" she asked, her voice uneven, ears flushed.
He released a measured breath and held her tightly. "Shh, love," he murmured, kissing her crown. "We can't do this now," he sighed, easing himself slowly flat against the mattress. He carefully tried to move his legs, but the pain refused to allow him.
"Legolas, you should go to the healers."
"Are you staying?"
She smiled a bit shyly, but nodded.
He caught her for a kiss, then half-shrugged. "The door is locked."
"So? I'll unlock it." Then she lifted a brow at some telling expression on his face. "Legolas?" she asked, her tone warning.
He looked at the ceiling.
"What did you do?"
He looked directly into her eyes then, his own darkened slightly but completely unrepentant. "I couldn't lose you, Silrinil. Not when I was beginning to think I was the idiot who had let you go all those years ago."
Her brow remained quirked in question.
"Elleri has the keys."
"Keys?" she asked.
"Three of them, at least."
She scowled for a moment, then shook her head and got up. "Dinner has long been over, hasn't it?"
"Yes. Why?"
She didn't answer, just pulled herself onto the mantle over the fireplace, and tapped along the stones until one rattled. She worked her fingers around it, pulling it out slowly, then set it down at her feet.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
She glared over her shoulder. "Hey, Ver?"
"Yes?" The soft voice floated oddly through the small opening.
Legolas groaned.
"Your brother locked me and Legolas into my room—Legolas needs a healer. Could you help?"
Legolas could hear a soft mutter and knew Elleri was in for an earful… and then he was, too, once the full story got out.
A few minutes later, a knock came on the door. Silrinil shoved the stone back into place and jumped lightly down. "Just open the door, Ri."
"Legolas?"
She glance back, understanding then the full extent of what he had done.
If she ran, he couldn't stop her, and he wouldn't be able to follow. Watching her, there was only one thing he could do. "Open the door, Elleri."
The door slowly opened, and Elleri poked his head in. His brows lifted when he saw Legolas. "Well…"
"Later, Ri," Silrinil murmured. "Do you want to call for a healer, or take him to one?"
Legolas rested his good arm behind his head. "I'm quite comfortable here."
She lifted a brow, but to Elleri's clear shock she chuckled as she moved to the bed, climbing in beside him, resting her cheek on his chest. "Me, too," she murmured, toying with the pendant he wore.