Chapter 8
Legolas slowly made his way to the royal guest quarters of Minas Tirith. Each step went unnoticed for his weary mind was a jumbled mess that teetered on the brink of numbness and falling apart, but he hoped he could find some solace that would allow him to forget about his cares for a time. His trudging gait carried him to the room that was deemed his and he opened the large ornate door just wide enough for him to slip through. With quiet force, the barrier was quickly closed and he breathed a heavy sigh hoping to alleviate the buildup of stress deep within himself. Yet, unease clung to the elf, refusing to leave him.
The thick wooden door supported the prince as he leaned back, taking a moment to familiarize himself with his room after being gone for quite some time. Carefully, Legolas tipped the hood off his head. He squinted against the intense rays of the late afternoon sun that somehow managed to pull through the clouds that had taken over the skies the last few days and the brightness nearly blinded him.
There was little though to reacquaint himself with for the room was scarcely used and had hardly been decorated. Aragorn handed out some of the palace's quarters to a few close family members or frequent visitors so they had a space to truly call 'theirs' whenever they stayed, but the elf tended to use the space as a place to simply store his things and get ready for any meetings or visitations that called the elven lord to Minas Tirith. He never felt the need to waste time and resources enriching an area that was seldomly used, for his true home was back in Ithilien. And so this room, set aside for the woodland prince, was nothing more than a place to be.
The room looked the same as it did that day Aragorn assigned it to him when the king first took office. The studio-esque apartment mirrored the rest of the palace's image as it played heavily with the theme of black on white - sharp contrasting opposites of light and dark that toyed with the notion of identity, strength, presence and absence. Blank white walls vaulted to meet the bland ceiling, reflecting the same stone that composed the floor and presenting a colorless and dull room before the elf. Off to one side, a decent sized, but comfortable bed was covered in a pallid blanket along with a few typical pieces of simple wooden furniture. The other side of the room held two overstuffed chairs clad in black leather. A fireplace was positioned just before them, but rather than offering the room with a bright focal point, the inky granate that created the hearth, firebox and slim mantle looked like a lifeless hole in the wall, especially when it was unlit as it was now. A door was recessed into one of the stone walls, offering the elf access to his own private bathing chamber.
His keen eyes could detect the thin covering of dust that had accumulated during his long absence, indicating that these rooms truly were his as no one had entered them since his last visit many, many months ago.
The only thing that offered even a speck of embellishment were the few large windows and a framed glass door that led to the outside world. He had access to a small balcony that overlooked a neglected courtyard surrounded by the castle's walls, but even from the opposite side of the room, a few treetops flushing with Fall's color could be seen through the windows when the drapes were pulled back.
And that was it. There was no art on the walls nor rugs on the floor; nothing to offer any kind of personality or personalization to the empty bleak void where he would be dwelling. The comforts this room offered were minimal and it did nothing to truly settle the elf other than finally offering him some solitude.
It was quiet inside - almost too quiet and the elf shifted uneasily as the depression that had been a constant companion suddenly deepened. He felt smothered within a great nothingness and longed to be elsewhere. However, the grueling journey to the palace left him with little motivation to put effort into his own ideas at the moment. All he knew was this small private guest room was his only hope to find quiet privacy within the barricade of thick, lifeless rock surrounding him, but his nerves were not calm, telling him he did not want to be in this so-called sanctuary.
He remained standing in the foyer of the room, allowing his mind to wander over his empty chamber as he acclimated to the still silence encompassing him. Yet, the peace was oddly unsettling and he felt lost.
With another heavy sigh, Legolas pushed himself from the entrance of his room and headed for the balcony, dumping his weapons carelessly in the wardrobe along the way. The instant the doors were pulled open, cold air flooded the interior, but the unpleasant chill offered a small, welcoming distraction from his woes and Legolas forged onward to the railing that bordered the suspended porch.
The breeze suddenly picked up, causing the treetops he faced to sway with the disturbance. The crisp draft caressed his bruised face only to tug playfully at his unkempt tress and clothing. The forlorn prince took a slow draught of fresh air and leaned on the banister to continue the silent study of his newest surroundings, willing peace to seek him out.
But still, he felt unsettled.
During their travels over the past few days the elf wanted nothing more than to be left alone so he could let his guard down and not have to suffer anyone to his emotional disgrace. But now that he found his wishes were granted, there was an incredible emptiness in the pit of his stomach. He almost felt scared that he was alone and he didn't understand it.
Another gust of wind drifted off of the mountain tops to the west and this time the cool air carried the fragrant and hearty aroma of dead dried leaves. His last breath became a dissatisfied murmur and Legolas closed his eyes with sorrow. Fall was always a sad time of year but now, combined with the weight of his own emotions crushing him, it felt like an unbearable loss. The trees he was so connected to were saying their goodbyes as the prosperous seasons came to a halt and the arbors went into a deep hibernation.
The elf desperately needed the trees at a time like this and he found that his loneliness only grew without their company. It would be months before the deciduous fauna would wake up and he became consumed by an overwhelming sense of abandonment at the thought. Along with his increasing worries, an ache began to build within his chest and he massaged it lightly with his fingers to try and work the feeling away with little success.
But he frowned, now finding the prickling numbness he had felt earlier in the tips of his fingers voiced its presence yet again. He studied his extremities, finding nothing really wrong with them in appearance and he flicked his digits to try and physically shake the feeling away, annoyed when that too failed to leave him.
Legolas sighed.
The wind made another round and nipped at the ruby, gold and copper foliage of the few mighty trees within the garden before him, plucking a single leaf from the top most branches that towered above. The elf tracked the fluttering blade as it swished and swirled through the air before it came to rest on the banister near his hand. Legolas studied it for a time, noting the green streaks of life that were devotedly trying to cling to the foliole as the color slowly drained away only to be replaced by a garnet hue. The wind made another gentle pass and the leaf was pushed off the railing.
A sudden jolt of longing surged through Legolas and for a few moments, he could not breathe. He watched the frond drift to the garden below to be welcomed home by the thousands of leaves that had already succumbed to the bitterness of fall. There, the leaf lay in a spot where the agitating wind could no longer stir it and a serene beauty overcame the little stalk's final resting place.
He found that he resented the leaf - resented how easily the foliage was able to obtain peacefulness among its own as it was free to make the decision to finally leave the only place it had ever known.
Legolas wanted to do the same and follow the leaf's path.
Although, his journey would be a far cry from falling through the air. Rather, he wanted to float over water - a great body of it - and join his people on pristine shores that were hundreds, thousands, even millions of miles away from here. He wanted to get away. He wanted to leave his troubles behind.
He wanted to be whole again.
The wind caressed his face again and he shuddered in the frosty air. Oh, to have that wind blow into great white sails! To have it push him along and guide him to some foreign land that, for some strange reason, already felt like home! Just as the leaf did, he could settle amongst his own and flee from the living nightmare he was currently trapped in. His stress and troubles could be washed away by the salted water as the tangy spray of the sea splashed upon his face. His cares could be blown away by an energetic breeze that pushed him home, offering the seagulls a steady current of wind in which to drift just as fish would swim in the sea.
Ah, and the gulls! How he yearned to hear even one cry from this rare bird that became nothing more than a thin memory. He tried to heed Lady Galadriel's warning years ago telling the woodland prince to avoid the piercing cry. But there was no way to evade the sea birds when he followed Aragorn and boarded the ships at the Pelargir to sail up the Anduin River. He aided Gondor in battle along with Gimli and the entire Dead of Dunharrow and in the end, it was a final force that ultimately saved the entirety of Gondor, even Middle Earth itself.
Since then, he had been able to drown out the desire to sail by burying himself in his work. He even made the promise to Aragorn that he would not sail, thinking those words could physically weigh him down and further prevent the urge to sail.
But now…
Now a sudden physical desire to even glimpse at the sea left a gnawing hunger in his heart. He needed to hear what he shouldn't have in the first place, listening to the song of a great white bird that held the promise that he would be home soon.
A demanding voice took a firm hold of his senses and Aragorn's desperate plea from a few nights ago abruptly drifted through his head.
**You made a promise to me! You said no matter how many of your people left for the Undying Lands, that you never would…**
The elf drew in another deep breath and exhaled densely. He could not leave.
He truly was trapped.
Trapped by his own words, of all things.
The prince's sharp vision sought out the joyous little leaf once more. It was fully content to let the green life drain from its flesh. The frond was dying, but it was happy to go, it was happy to know that it served its purpose and was now rewarded with the gift of eternal sleep.
Darkly, Legolas found he envied the leaf.
There was a soft rasping of knuckles on the interior wooden door and the prince was pulled from his inner turmoil.
"Lord Legolas?" A sweetly shy voice cut through the barrier as a maid called out to see if she was permitted to enter.
The elf remained quiet. He was not so sure he wanted to face anyone at the moment, but his lack of response only prompted more knocking. With another sigh, Legolas pushed himself from the railing and lethargically made his way back inside.
"Yes?" He asked flatly through the door as he gained the sealed-off exit.
"My lord, I was sent here by request of the king to prep your chambers." The maid stated, but Legolas did not react right away. Despite the incredible loneliness he felt only moments prior, his wants did a complete turn and once more he found he did not want to be around anyone. He would rather face dark isolation than people.
"...May we enter?" the maid inquired after there was no response to her initial explanation. The simple question was used to clarify that her duties required access, but she would only do so if she was permitted.
Legolas clenched his jaw. His hesitations were ridiculous and he knew it. His unease morphed into self-disgust and the blond huffed. Flustered, the prince opened the wooden panel slightly for the servant. However, he refused to greet her. Instead, he quickly turned back to the balcony as the maid and her team entered his rooms and they wasted no time setting up the once unoccupied area for their guest.
The bed was tended urgently, changing the sheets and covers that had grown stale as they sat unused. The pillows on the bed were fluffed and propped. A change of clothes that the maids retrieved were set on the dresser for easy access while another servant brought in logs to stock the fireplace. Fresh thick towels were stacked on the bathroom's grand marble sink and the sound of running water echoed through the rooms as they drew a hot bath as instructed by their king. Handfuls of healing herbs were dumped into the hot water and the refreshing scent of Athelas and other soothing floral notes cloaked the room. Lastly, a quick pass of a rag over the flat surfaces caught unwanted dust and the baseboards were swept in a hurry to clean up any trace of filth.
The servants filed out of the rooms once everything was in order and the head maid stepped to the threshold of the balcony. She could sense that their presence was unwanted, but it was her duty to make sure the king's company would be comfortable during their stay.
"My Lord, I sincerely apologize for the intrusion. Your rooms have not been used in some time and we were not expecting guests. Everything has been prepared for you; Clean clothes are available for you. A bath has been drawn. King Elessar wishes you to bathe. He said that he would be up later to check on you. Dinner will be ready in a few hours and your presence is requested." She stood in the doorway watching the unmoving elf as he leaned on the railing, looking out over the trees and his little speck of sky. When the prince did not reply, she took a hesitant step toward him. "...My Lord?"
Her innocent question struck Legolas to the core and sent a ripple of guilt through the closed off elf. His refusal to recognize her was one more bit of self-induced stupidity and the prince quickly grew embarrassed with his own actions. She was only doing her job and it was her own king - Aragorn - who gave her the orders. It was not her fault. In fact, nothing was. She was doing exactly as she was told and it became abundantly clear that he was taking his frustrations out on her.
In an attempt to fix any wrong doings, Legolas looked over his shoulder and smiled slightly, careful of the mending scab of his split lip. It was his best attempt to be friendly, but the light expression never reached his dull eyes.
"Thank you." He said softly to acknowledge her statements and kindly dismiss her.
The maid immediately saw the battered face that turned towards her and her hand flew to cover her mouth as she gave a small gasp in shock. She had seen the fair elf numerous times throughout the palace whenever he came to visit. Horror clutched her when she saw the once handsome, flawless face now marred with bruises.
"My Lord!... What... *happened* to you?" She whispered.
The smile drained from Legolas' face instantly. Without a word, the dejected prince turned back to the garden and he shifted his weight from one foot to another. He did not want to openly admit to his pitiful weakness to explain his ordeal to anyone, let alone a stranger and he started to regret interacting with the maid to begin with.
She cringed as she realized her error. She dropped her hand quickly and looked away.
"I-I apologize, my lord. It was not my place. My name is Anna. If you need anything at all, please do not hesitate to ask." With that, she headed for the doors and let herself out.
Legolas listened to Anna's footsteps as they dissipated down the hall which ultimately reverted him back to quiet stillness. An unexpected rush of sorrow washed over him and he blinked rapidly as the sharp sting of tears began to well in his eyes.
The maid could easily see the marks that others had left upon him and though they were just bruises and abrasions that would fade over time, they felt like permanent cruel reminders that could never be erased. His swirling emotions turned to hopelessness and the prince lifted his head to face the sky, all the while working with effort to drive the tears back.
The clouds provided a quick distraction and he painstakingly watched how the smooth flat phenomenons streaked across the darkening blue expanse and captured the rich color of the retreating sun. The stars began to dot the sky to take up their nightly watch and Legolas found a small piece of familiar comfort with their slow appearance. He relaxed slightly, letting the tense knots that had a firm hold of him loosen and he drew as much strength from the constellation's clam influence as he could. Unlike the trees, the glittering heavens had no limitations with seasons and were a permanent fixture that he could rely on. Their reign over the dark landscape had not been changed since the dawn of time and they were a silent witness to the passing of history for centuries. They saw everything.
Everything.
Shame flooded the elf with earnest and his breathing hitched around the lump forming in his throat. His mind went on a berating rampage that tormented him with the very thought of the beautiful entities witnessing the horrendous acts that stripped him of his honor, leaving behind nothing but an appalling wretch now incapable of respect.
The prince dropped his gaze.
The tantalizing happiness the stars displayed crushed his already wounded spirit, for joyousness seemed so far out of reach to him and he did not feel worthy of being in their grand presence.
The knot in his core was tightening again and he realized it was useless being out here. Legolas could no longer find any comfort in the nature around him and the elf numbly walked back into his rooms, seeking out the eerie darkness that now saturated the interior. He sank into one of the overstuffed chairs positioned in front of the dead fireplace and he let his head fall to his hands. Yet, the soundless rooms did nothing to ease the hollow pit in his core and the elf began to flex his jaw muscles to try and force the sorrow down.
He remained for a while trying to cope with his new surroundings and boiling troubles, but it did little to settle him. It was draining having to deal with the wild ride of his emotions and it was not helped in the slightest by his poor physical condition. Lacking nourishment and limited sleep left him far more weary than any elf ought to be and his unhealed hurts ached everywhere.
He took in a deep breath in the hopes of pushing the unease aside just as he had been doing all evening, but the unexpected scent of herbs in the bathwater reached his nostrils. It was pleasant and soothing on his senses and the elf openly welcomed the feeling. He dared to take a longer draw, attempting to cleanse his soul of the festering ugliness on the inside. His lungs were filled time and time again with the delicate fragrance before he carefully got up to pursue the wholesome peace it promised.
The elf stepped lightly through the entrance of the bathing chambers to find a spacious room decorated with simple elegance. An oil lamp mounted on the wall flickered as the small flame shed some light in the windowless room. Polished white marble tiles made the floor and a large slab of white rock with black veins created a sink surrounded by ample counter tops. His booted steps echoed slightly in the room furnished by stone amenities and he reached out to the oil lamp to turn the wick up, casting a brighter, warmer glow in the steamy space. An oak framed mirror hung on the wall over the sink and a thick sheet of foggy moisture prevented any reflection in coming to life. A luxuriously wide and deep tub was filled with water and scattered through the crystal clear liquid were bits of crushed leaves that the maids added to give the bath a healing ability.
All he wanted now was to be clean. He felt physically, mentally and spiritually filthy, but the tub could only equip him with the opportunity to alleviate one of the factors. He did not care though. One liberty was better than none and he was grateful to have this convenience already provided and prepped. It spared him the embarrassment of having to ask for anyone's help or allowing them to see his struggles in finding even the simplest comforts that he didn't know he wanted.
He wasted no time and the weary prince began to undress. He threw the soiled clothes and bandages into a heap at the far corner of the room before stepping into the warm water, taking great care getting in. The ache in his backside flared when he stepped over the edge of the tub, but after a few awkward movements, the prince eased himself down into the small pool, grimacing as the water stung his injuries. The pain subsided quickly however and he relaxed slowly, reclining against the slanted tub walls and stretching out comfortably in the spacious basin.
The warmth of the bath consumed him and he breathed a slight sigh of satisfaction as the healing herbs attacked the ache in his body. He could not quite recall the last time something had ever felt this blissful, but he did not ponder over it long. He was just thankful he found something that broke through the viciousness of his drifting thoughts and filled him with relief rather than more grief. He shifted and lowered himself so that the water came up around his neck, allowing the water to flood his senses as much as it did his physical form. He closed his heavy eyes and after a few moments, he finally drifted off into the peacefulness his hurting soul so desperately craved.
It was short lived however as someone knocked on the wooden doors to his chambers. The elf was pulled from his tranquility at the sound and scowled.
"By the Valar..." Legolas cursed quietly to himself. He ignored the quiet tapping, hoping whoever it was would simply leave. That was not the case. After a few more attempts to allow the elf to open the doors, the wood creaked softly as the divider was pushed open, then closed. All went quiet before the same knocking was played on the bathroom doors.
"Legolas?" Someone called out to him and the prince instantly recognized the voice.
It was Aragorn.
"I am indecent, Strider." The elf's response was curt and his scowl depended.
"May I come in?" Aragorn asked lightly despite Legolas' bitter words. "I want to check on your wounds-"
"What?! No!" Legolas snipped tartly for he could not believe that his friend even made the ridiculous request.
"Legolas-" the man started to plead with the prince, but again, the king was firmly cut off.
"The answer is no, Aragorn, and it will *not* change! *Leave*!"
There was a pause before the elf's sensitive hearing caught the irked expulsion of breath coming from the other side of the door. But it did not matter one bit to Legolas that Aragorn was disappointed with the rejection of his request. It was absurd to even think that it was considered a valid option at this moment.
The knob to the door rattled softly as Aragorn made the difficult decision to disregard what the elf wanted. Had this been a different request or a different set of circumstances he would have gladly given in on the matter to let the prince have his way. However, his errand focused on Legolas' health and that was not an issue he would let slide. The man prepared himself for the heated defense his actions would warrant and he opened the door quickly before his plans could be thwarted.
"Strider!" The elf called out in angered alarm, but when he realized his friend would not listen to him, he began to panic. He sat up instantly and hunched over to cover himself as best he could while his mind scrambled for a better alternative. "Leave! Get out!" He was beyond irritated and it was very clear in his desperate demands.
Aragorn made sure to keep his back to the elf and grabbed one of the large, thick towels that were neatly folded on the sink. He shook it out and made his way to the tub, attempting to drape it over the prince's lap.
The elf called out in surprise and grabbed the material as it was being placed in the water and began to make a mess. Legolas pulled the corner of the linen out of the water and tried to push the towel back into Aragorn's hands while simultaneously doing his best to remain covered in his bowed form.
"What are you doing?! Strider, stop!"
"Calm down Legolas." The man gently assured. "Just take this. I want to check your wounds and make sure they are cleaned-"
"Can it not wait?!" The elf asked with a clipped tone.
The man had no intentions of fighting with the elf, but did his best to reason with the rising temper he faced.
"It will be far easier and faster if we did this now. There is already medicine in the water. Your wounds cannot be slighted in their care, mellon-nin."
Legolas shifted uncomfortably as he pulled his knees to his chest, trying to further hide his nude form. "I do not think this to be the proper time, Aragorn." His body flushed with embarrassment while the man did an initial evaluation to the lash marks and bruises on his back.
"That is why I am giving you this." The man stated calmly. He forced the towel into the water and tucked the edges on either side of the prince under the water's surface.
The elf huffed in disbelief while he shook his head slightly. He fidgeted in discomfort while Aragorn rolled his sleeves up and grabbed a washing cloth from the sink before sitting on his knees beside the tub.
"Aragorn, I am fine." He insisted. Legolas prayed the man would take his word, but Aragorn was widely known as a persistent man who stuck to his own beliefs and the elf's hopes were dwindling even as he said them.
The ex-ranger looked to his friend with a skeptical expression of disbelief.
"Legolas..." Aragorn's respire was once more used as an interjection to cut off the elf's terseness, but he did not really know how to continue. They were both weary from their travels, especially Legolas who pushed himself hard despite his afflictions and Aragorn understood that this was not the time to have the deep heart to heart conversation that needed to happen. That could wait until they were both well rested and Legolas felt comfortable enough to confide in another rather than keep up with his resistance at every turn.
Aragorn countered Legolas' argument calmly. "No you are not. You are far from it." He stated the obvious as he dipped the square of material into the water keeping his stern eyes on the elf all the while.
The elf glared at the man sitting beside him and he snorted in annoyance as he looked away once more. His message was very clear in his actions and Aragorn was quick to reproach.
"Legolas, you are not alright and I think you know it too. You keep telling us that you are, but you are not. Your injuries have barely begun to heal. Do not think I have not noticed. By now you should be well on the mend, but..." He let his statement trail off as he looked at the bruised and battered elf before him and shook his head softly. The lines in his forehead creased into worry and a small frown worked its way into his features.
Aragorn's calm persona began to rub off on the fatigued elf and Legolas listened to his concerns. He chewed slightly on the inside of his lip, keeping his eyes away from the man, but he could feel Aragorn's gaze bore into him and he did not like it.
"All I need is rest." The bitterness left the elf's voice and he provided the statement as a fact.
"Ai Elbereth..." The king sighed. "Sometimes I seriously think you were born to the wrong race, mellon-nin." Aragorn smiled limply to the elf as Legolas gave his friend a puzzled look. "Dwarves are the ones known for their stubbornness and I think you can match any dwarf's obstinacy... or even surpass it." His statement was accompanied by a hint of mirth.
The elf was not amused.
"I know you are tired and weary Legolas, but you also need care." Aragorn pulled the washcloth out of the water and wrung it out slightly. "Now, would you please let me help you?"
The elf did not respond as he dropped his head to his hand and slowly rubbed his forehead. It was clear the elf did not want the man to touch him, though he knew it was for his own good.
The king remained motionless to give the prince time to internalize the situation, but it seemed as though they reached a stalemate and Legolas would not give in. A sudden thought came to Aragorn and he looked to the elf, sadly noting the tense way the elf sat and refused to look directly at him.
"Legolas?" His voice was barely above a whisper, but it made up for the lack of volume in his sincere compassion. "Legolas... look at me."
The man's empathetic plea could not be ignored this time and Legolas turned his head to his friend, but never picked it up from his hands. Try as he might, he still could not bring himself to look directly into the man's gray eyes and the prince restricted his sights from Aragorn's face. Instead, he found the Evenstar necklace peeking through the clasps of the king's shirt and Legolas concentrated on the elegant jewel that dangled from the man's neck. The crystal-clear gems caught the lamp's glow and shimmered softly. He hoped he turned enough to suffice the man.
"You..." The man halted his voice as emotions caught in his throat. He was already anticipating the elf's response and a cold prick of dread began to form in his core. He continued with difficulty, whispering to the elf knowing the prince could hear him with full clarity. "You do not... fear me…. do you?"
The elf had been brutalized by men and a sickening feeling overcame Aragorn as he began to despair that his friend might not ever be able to trust him again for what others had done. And the king was not entirely free of any wrongdoings due to the role he played in adding to Legolas' torment when he practically forced the elf to submit to his help that night in the cave, even though it was done with the best intentions.
The elf's eyes snapped to the human's as anguish clouded his blue orbs. He could not formulate words, but he shook his head to the negative, much to the king's relief.
Aragorn's voice was tender, asking for an honest reply as he searched the depths of Legolas' weary eyes for an answer without having to wait. "So why are you so resistant towards my help?"
Legolas looked off again. That comment burned him on a deeper level realizing that he was pushing loved ones away without actually meaning to. It was just so hard to know what he really wanted and it felt safer to keep it secret and try and figure it out on his own.
It took a while for the prince to respond, but his answer was a vague explanation, buried in subtle defense. "Forgive me... I know I have not been myself lately-" the elf quietly admitted, but Aragorn cut him off.
"I do not expect you to be yourself, Legolas. The atrocities you have been forced through-"
"Stop." The prince demanded. Every time he let his guard down, memories or conversation of his ordeal surfaced after working so hard to try and forget about it. It was frustrating to say the least and now he found his anxieties were working hard to bring him down once more. "I do not want to discuss it." He finished in a hurry.
Aragorn gave up in trying to get Legolas to open up. The last thing he wanted to do was cause his longtime friend any more distress, but he found it happened anyway and it nearly broke his heart.
"Do you still trust me?" Aragorn asked with caution, but was grateful when Legolas gave a reluctant nod. "May I?" He shifted the washcloth indicating all he wanted to do was tend to the prince.
The elf sighed heavily before giving in entirely since his resistance seemed to be getting him nowhere.
Aragorn felt a small crack of relief when the elf dropped his defense. He set himself quickly into motion before Legolas could rethink his options and backtrack in the matter. The king reached out to gather the prince's long blond hair and pushed it carefully over one shoulder to have easy access to his friend's slender back.
The man began his gentle ministrations with a healer's diligence. He poured every ounce of his honed ability into his care as he washed the elf's wounds once more. Aragorn inspected every abrasion thoroughly, trying to find any abnormality that would cause his friend's healing to lag.
The elf remained tense under the soothing touch, though he tried his best to hide it. He still would not look at the man and kept his eyes on anything inanimate.
Aragorn noted the rigidity and began to talk idly to the prince to distract him.
"It has been a long few months since you have last been here, Legolas... why I do believe it was well over a year ago already... Much has happened since we last saw each other. I apologize I have not been keeping close contact with you. The kingdom has been growing stronger and it seems to be my *only* life at the present..."
Legolas nodded his head a little at the comment. He knew too well the dealings with a kingdom and how it could consume one's life.
"Welcome to the life of a king." The elf tried to sound light, but his voice was a bit sluggish and flat. Regardless, Aragorn snorted at the remark and moved on.
"So, I hear that Ithilien is coming along quite nicely." The man then kept his tongue to allow Legolas to speak if he wished. He was a little disappointed with the elf for not telling him about his frequent visits north and if he could breach the subject, he would try to get some answers from his friend.
"Yes…. Everyone is working hard. The forests are benefiting from it and there is already a notable difference. But it seems Hirve's return is not far off and we will have to halt our work until the fauna comes out of the deep sleep." The elf's voice was low and steady as he reflected inwardly. ( Hirve = elvish for Winter)
"What are your plans for the winter?" Aragorn asked as he sopped up a decent amount of water in the washcloth and squeezed the cleansing water over the elf's shoulders.
"Those who wish it, typically go to Osgiliath and lend a hand where needed, though, from what I can gather in recent reports, Lord Faramir has made a great deal of progress with the reconstruction this year. Perhaps the need for Elven help will not be required."
"I think Faramir would gladly accept any help, and would be eager to host your people. Especially with the recent news, I'm quite sure he will be rather ambitious in the rebuilding within the upcoming months." The man's voice trailed off fondly as he gently pressed Legolas back against the tub to begin cleaning the wounds and bruises on the elf's chest.
"Why is that?" Legolas shifted to get more comfortable and straightened the towel about his lap as he kicked his legs out in front of him. The prince was slowly relaxing, much to Aragorn's relief.
"Have you not heard?" Aragorn looked to the elf and received a glimpse of confusion in Legolas' weary face. "Why, the Lord and Lady are expecting their first child. If everyone's calculations are correct, the child will be here by the end of spring."
A small, half-smile tugged at the corner of the elf's mouth. "No, I have not heard. That is wonderful news..." But even as he remarked on the announcement, his voice held no real joy and it was not lost on the king. Aragorn's plans for conversation shifted and he decided not to push the prince for information at the moment and kept the chatter light.
"Yes. They are all very excited, as are we! Spring will be here before we know it! A few of us here have been placing friendly wagers on gender, but I think Arwen is bordering on hope that it will be a girl." His grin was amused as he relayed everything to the elf.
"Why?" Legolas asked the single word, not really caring if he received an answer, but was grateful that Aragorn's enthusiasm led his mind to wander over someone else's happy news rather than dwell on his own dark moments.
"Oh... she daydreams frequently over Eldarion and his future." Aragorn murmured, still smiling softly. "She remarks over how fast he is growing and that she wishes time could slow down, yet she is quick to anticipate the day he grows into a man, finding a love of his own. If Faramir and Eowyn have a daughter... Well…. Arwen hopes there to be a match." The king rolled his eyes playfully and punctuated his thoughts with a dramatic word. "Women..."
The man snickered at his own joke hoping to lighten the gloom around his friend, but the elf's quiet and distant demeanor did not change, much to Aragorn's disappointment. The king ceased his humor and gracefully moved on to another topic.
"Arwen is not the only one to get a head start on planning Eldarion's future and Elrohir is already looking forward to the day he can begin archery and sparring lessons." The man dipped the washcloth in the water again before continuing with his small talk and ministrations. "Speaking of which, Elladan and Elrohir just informed me that they are making arrangements to leave Rivendell and reside here!"
Again, joy evaded the wood-elf at hearing this major news and his brows knit together perplexed. "What?"
"Yes! They arrived here a few days ago. I'm sure there is a lot they want to discuss with you in regards to a transition, but it seems most of the elves from Rivendell are going to sail. There are few that do not wish to go yet and they would like very much to make a new life in Ithilien, if you have room for them."
The prince responded on the spot, but it was an automatic reply that left his lips without thought. "Of course. All are welcome."
Aragorn did not miss the listlessness in the reply and he halted what he was doing to focus on his friend, noting the way the elf turned inward. He felt for Legolas and wished there was something - anything he could do or say that would ignite a spark of carefree happiness that was once usual in the sapphire eyes of the prince. But now it seemed everything he tried fell short with its intended purpose.
Legolas on the other hand felt the same burring of envy that caught him by surprise earlier when he observed the leaf from his balcony. Hearing that others were able to obtain what he could not achieve weighed heavily on his already troubled heart. While he would be more than willing to accommodate anyone, right now he couldn't fathom giving care and attention to others while he seemed to be on the brink of crumbling himself. He let out a sigh at the thought, trying to maintain his wavering composure.
"...Legolas?" Aragorn's concern caught the prince off guard as the king noted the distant expression in the elf's features. Legolas was pulled from his thoughts and looked to his friend.
"Sorry... I'm just..." The familiar bite of tears rose quickly in Legolas' eyes which did nothing to help with his frustrations. The elf looked away before the man could get a glimpse of the silvery drops as his eyes began to well to the brims. "I'm tired..."
The man knew it was a massive understatement and there was most likely more to the words than Legolas led on, but he simply nodded. The last thing he wanted for his friend at this moment was an emotional collision with his overtaxed state. No doubt Legolas needed to talk to someone and relieve some of his emotional burden, but there was a much better time for that later.
"I know. Come, your wounds are cleaned. I'll put salve on them to help with the ache. Dinner is nearly ready and I would that you joined us for the meal." Aragorn hoped his requests provided a much needed distraction to the elf to help push through the thickness swamping him.
The prince shook his head. "I really am not hungry Strider-"
"Legolas... I let you have your way during our travels, but you need to eat. It does not have to be much, but you need to take some nourishment so you can give your body strength to heal."
Legolas rested his forehead against the fingertips of a single hand. His frustrations were starting to build again, but he knew Aragorn was right. He had absolutely no desire to be present, but he had no energy left to really fight the man on the subject.
"I do not wish to sit there and be a bruised spectacle for everyone present while they ask or ponder what happened."
"No Legolas, this is not a formal dinner. There will not be any council members or guests to entertain this evening. This is a private dinner - family only; Arwen, my brothers Gimli and myself will be the only ones present and I can assure you that questions will not be asked, alright?... You do not have to stay long. After you eat, you may retire for the evening."
That was not what the elf wanted to hear. Couldn't Aragorn just let him be?
Before the elf could protest further, Aragorn stood to his feet. He wrung the washcloth more-or-less dry and flipped it over the edge of the tub to let the rest of the water evaporate.
"Finish cleaning up. I'll wait for you and dress your wounds before I leave." Aragorn said as he stalked out of the bathing chamber and left Legolas to finish with his bath in privacy.
Legolas sat for a few long minutes thinking over his argument about dinner requests. He wanted nothing to do with food right now and the very thought of it unsettled his stomach.
He became further annoyed with the irony of all that took place; Just a few moments ago Aragorn easily pointed out the incredible stubbornness of Legolas' character and yet Aragorn was just as adamant with his own requests and would not take 'no' for an answer.
The elf huffed to himself. All he wanted now was to be left alone again despite the incredible emptiness that accompanied seclusion. He came to find the dark isolation of his quarters was better than being forced to follow demands and the thought of having to face others right now flooded him with anxiety. It did not matter who was going to be present; questions would be asked and he had to have an explanation for his bruised appearance. He could almost hear the way others would gasp at the sight of him just as the maid did earlier and he could easily predict the wave of unrelenting questions that would follow.
…Unless Aragorn had already told them what happened.
He sure hoped not.
He set his mind to work in an attempt to supply vague answers to everyone's inquiries about his wounds. The absolute last thing he wanted was to have knowledge of his shame shared with anyone. He would have to make sure Aragorn did not speak of it either.
"Legolas?" the king questioned when the bathing room fell into silence and the very mention of his name set the elf into motion. Legolas submerged his head, thoroughly wetting his locks and applied soap to wash the grime and gore that had collected in the normally flawless hair. With a last dunk under the water to rinse the suds away, he sat up, wiped the water from his eyes, and began to stand.
He was having difficulty getting to his feet as the strain in his injuries began to speak up and he groaned and panted with each try to rise from the tub.
Aragorn tapped on the door again after hearing the pained effort even through the barrier between the two and he entered the bathing chamber once more to aid his friend. He didn't even bother asking. The king knew the elf would automatically refuse help if offered for that had been the trend these past few days. Without a word, Aragorn gripped Legolas at the elbow and pulled the prince to a standing position while the elf clutched the heavy, sodden towel about his waist. Legolas stood there as large amounts of water drained from the towel and it seemed the entire bath was soaked up into the plush fabric. The blond shifted the towel awkwardly, seeking to cover himself more thoroughly, but Aragorn reached for a fresh towel and passed it to his friend before turning his back so the prince could switch out linens.
Once Legolas was wrapped in a dry cloth, Aragorn held his hand out to support the injured prince while he stepped over the edge of the tub. He noted the way the elf's face tightened in misery as he exited the basin and Aragorn watched on with sad eyes. He had hoped Legolas' innermost injuries did not need care for the prince's sake, but the look of agony was easy to read despite the way the elf tried to school his features.
"Legolas…" the man started but was once more unsure what to say.
"What?" the murmured response was irritated as he was in no mood to take any more orders.
"You... you are in pain." The man was cautious, but words evaded him causing his statement to be vague.
The elf's face scrunched up. He didn't understand where Aragorn was going with this. "A little obvious, is it not?" His dry reply was laced with bitter sarcasm. After all, Aragorn just finished a medical evaluation of the injuries to his back and chest.
Aragorn ignored the elf's comment. He asked a rhetorical one of his own to prompt the elf's mind with a train of thought so he was not forced to actually speak of the uncomfortable subject. "Your injuries, do…. *they* hurt?"
The elf's face tightened further as he tried to piece together what the man was getting at, but he suddenly went still as he recalled the last few moments and what may have brought up this skewed path of conversation. An understanding began to unravel and he deadpanned to Aragorn while his eyes grew wide. Aragorn was not talking about the wounds on his torso.
"N-no, Aragorn, I am fine." he stammered and took a stiff step back.
Aragorn let out a defeating breath. He tried to formulate a different plan, but there was nothing else to do unless the prince was passed off to another healer which would only cause more harm in the end.
Why did it have to come to this?
"I need to see to you." Aragorn delicately explained letting his troubled expression demonstrate his sorrow in having to do this a second time.
Legolas shook his head frantically. "No, Strider. Please..."
"Like your other injuries, I'm sure you have not healed and I am a little alarmed that you are still in a great deal of pain."
The elf flushed and was pushed to the brink of tears for what seemed like the millionth time that night. His croaked plea tore at the former ranger that stood in front of him but he had no control over the wave of dread that took him by storm.
"Strider… please."
Aragorn did not like this any more than the elf did and he formulated a quick spit of wisdom to offer his friend some sort of reassurance.
"Legolas, I am a male, as are you. You have nothing that I have not seen before-"
But the awkward statement meant to amuse with its immature undertones backfired quickly.
"I am painfully aware of that, Aragorn. You have already seen the horrible actions that others can inflict so intimately. I had no choice but to bare myself and my shame to you. You can thank Gimli for that." The elf's voice was no more than an acerbic whisper at the remark.
"What?... no Legolas, I meant that... I am not implying..." The man floundered as he tried to quell the elf's uneasiness now feeling quite nervous and unsure himself. "Listen, you need medical attention. I can give it to you right now, or if you prefer someone other than myself to care for you, then I will arrange for that. Elladan or Elrohir can come and assist you. They too are healers... as well as elves..." The man presented the best parallel he could, but Legolas shook his head vehemently. "Then what other choice do we have? Ignoring it is not an option."
Legolas did not respond at all and looked off to the blank stone walls hoping to come up with a better way to get out of this, but he knew it was futile.
"They need to be tended to mellon-nin." All Aragorn received in response was a huff. "To help you... only to help you... may I?"
Legolas swallowed hard.
"It does not matter what my wishes are, does it... you are going to have your way whether I consent to it or not-" The elf was cut short when a sob caught in his throat. Unbidden tears began to fall and the prince bowed his head to hide them. Legolas was not stupid, he knew he needed the care, but no matter how gentle it might be or the caring person behind the healing ministrations, it felt like sheer torture.
Aragorn froze. This was the worst situation to be placed in and he had no idea how to go about it. Helping his friend would only hurt him... and yet if Legolas was not helped, that would do more damage. He tried to think of anything to put the prince at ease, but the situation was so horrendously twisted that the man was at a loss for words.
"Mellon-nin... I-"
"Just do it and get it over with." The prince let the words tumble out of his mouth to try and hide the roughness of his voice caused by his emotions.
Aragorn could not move. His own vision became blurry as he tried to look through the flood that swept through his eyes. How could he possibly do this?
Both elf and man were stone still, but Aragorn jerked himself out of his stupor to test the boundaries that no longer existed. He barely placed his fingers on the elf's arm to guide his friend to sink, almost too afraid to touch the anguished being that stiffened under his gentle contact.
"Relax, Legolas..." The man spoke calmly for both the elf and himself as he mentally prepared himself for the task at hand. He took control of the towel wrapped around Legolas' waist and opened it just enough to expose what was necessary. He knelt on the floor and very gently inspected what he could while prince trembled uncontrollably.
"I am so sorry, Legolas." Aragorn repeated, glancing at the sores that were left behind from the cruel abuse that was inflicted days ago. No improvements had been made in the healing process and it was hard to tell whether the wounds had reopened or if the ugly tears ever closed at all.
Aragorn stood with uncertainty, but walked out of the chamber briefly and returned with a small jar of salve and set it at the prince's feet. The man then grabbed the square washing cloth and dipped it back in the tub. Once he made his way back to the elf he took up his previous position and gingerly wiped the area, effectively cleaning the sensitive wounds. Aragorn frowned as he noted his own hands were shaking and he took a deep breath to try and calm himself before continuing.
When the abrasions were cleaned, he spread the soothing salve quickly over the private injuries, but the elf the prince went rigid instantly and shifted away.
"Enough!" He gasped. Physically and emotionally, the prince could take no more. Aragorn stopped instantly and the elf snatched the towel back around his waist.
"I need for you to take it easy these next few days until the wounds can close properly." The man said as he straightened up and made his way over to the tub. Aragorn washed his hands in the water before he pulled the plug and let the large wash basin drain.
The elf did not move however and remained leaning on the sink. A slight jerk in his shoulders told the man that Legolas was doing his best to choke back the tears, but the task was proving to be too great this time. Aragorn attempted to calm his friend and drew close to gather the grieving elf to him. However, Legolas pulled away and Aragorn ceased his actions.
If he could not physically reach his friend, he would do so with his words, though that too seemed to be a failure this evening. He tried anyway.
"I'm so sorry, Legolas... Believe me, that was the last thing I ever wanted to put you through, but there was no other way."
"I just want this to be over..." the elf sounded miserable.
"I know, I know... my heart aches for you. I hate seeing you like this Legolas... But just know, I'm here if you need anything - anything at all."
Legolas took a deep breath to compose himself but gave off a shallow nod. It was unknown if the elf truly understood the dedication Aragorn promised or if he was just trying to move on from the last few moments. Either way, the king left the matter where it was. There would be plenty of time to console the elf later once he had a clearer mind set.
Aragorn left the room again only to appear with a set of clothes. "Here, I hope these will fit you. Put the leggings on and then I'll dress the rest of your wounds."
Legolas privately wiped away the slight tracks of tears that clung to his cheeks and took the neatly folded clothing, noting the extraordinary garments to their fullest.
"What are these?" Certainly these were not human clothing.
"They are from my brothers. My staff grabbed what they could. Apparently all they could find was some of their formal wear… Sorry, but it will have to do for now until we can have some other clothes made for you. I will have my staff make them in accordance to the wood-elf fashion, but I think these will serve their purpose for the time being."
Legolas unfolded the silken, red and gold tunic that resembled an elegant and dramatic robe more than anything. He had never worn anything so elaborate from the Noldor-elf customs, but dared not say anything as he was only relieved to have proper clothing to wear rather than soiled, baggy sleeping garments.
Aragorn allowed Legolas to semi dress in privacy and once the elf was covered, he entered again to rub the salve over the rest of the prince's injuries and cover them with light bandages. After, he held the robe out to Legolas, allowing the prince to easily slip his arms into the sleeves and the man pulled the shirt over the elf's shoulders, carefully laying the material across his friend's raw back. They both exited the bathing chamber as Legolas fastened each clasp. True enough, the garment fit perfectly and the wood-elf straightened the fabric as the last clasp was set in place.
Aragorn lit a small candle on a tabletop to give the dark room some light before he returned to the elf.
"Alright. I'm going to get ready for dinner. I'll see you down there?" He asked only to try and get the elf to confirm his attendance.
The prince took in a deep breath and looked away. Oh how he did not want to attend…
"Legolas..." The man warned as he raised his eyebrows indicating that any statement other than 'yes' would not be accepted.
Legolas answered with a hurried huff. "Yes; I will be there."
Aragorn nodded as he reached out and placed a comforting hand on the prince's shoulder. "Thank you." He said before he turned to walk out of the room.
The king's booted feet tapped lightly on the stone floor and each rhythmic pace mounted an unexplainable panic within in Legolas' mind. He knew once the man left his rooms anything could take place and if he did not act now, he could lose control over his personal matters.
"Aragorn..." He called out, face taught as he once more worked with vigor to harness his overwhelming emotions. Though he requested Aragorn's attention, he restricted his own and found it impossible to look at Aragorn.
"Yes." The king halted mid-step and turned to look at the elf, but it was clear the prince was having difficulty putting his thoughts into words. Aragorn retraced his few steps to stand by the elf once more, giving his full attention to the struggling prince. "What is it, Legolas?" The king's words were easy despite the worry writhing in his heart. This was so unlike the strong and confident warrior Legolas was known to be, but the king exercised his patience while Legolas worked through his own hesitations.
"Don't tell them." The wood-elf finally said, turning his worried visage to his friend and piercing Aragorn with an open gaze that allowed a brief, unrestricted view into the depth of the prince's fears. It caught the man off guard and nearly crushed Aragorn. "Don't tell anyone what has happened."
Silence stretched between the two friends, each trying to come up with ways in which to talk about the difficult subject. However, Aragorn became further disappointed with the request. While he was not looking forward to sharing the details of Legolas' imprisonment with anyone, he hoped he would be able to build a strong support system that included only those with the utmost closest relationships with the prince. And the man highly doubted Legolas would easily open up to others on his own.
"You cannot keep this inside, Legolas-" Aragorn picked his words carefully, but he was not given a chance to finish.
"No one needs to know what has happened. I just want it to be forgotten about."
The king clenched his jaw, knowing this was going to be a losing battle and he let out an exasperated sigh.
"Aragorn," the elf was stern with his demands. "...this is not your business to share with whom you wish. Do not discuss it - ever."
The man took a deep breath as he tried to reason with his friend, but all in all, Legolas was right. This was not his private matter. And what was more worrisome was the fact that Legolas intended to keep it locked away with the hopes that it would be forgotten, which was absurd.
But Aragorn reasoned with himself. Legolas was tired and had been through a lot over the past few days. Of course he would be closed off right now. Perhaps time was really all he needed.
"Will you talk with me?" The king asked softly. "Later? Once you have some time to rest?"
"No. I just want it to be forgotten." The elf repeated.
Aragorn was going to push his point, but gave up. He knew arguing was a useless cause. He would cave for now, but he would not let this drop and he would push for some sort of resolution later. He once again placed a gentle hand on the prince's rigid shoulder offering as much comfort as Legolas allowed in his current state.
"Alright, Legolas... Alright."
"Thank you." Legolas's endearment was icy after having to clash with his friend, relieved he put a stop to any other conversations circling the matter and giving him back what seemed like some control of his life.
The lingering hand on Legolas' shoulder squeezed lightly before slipping off and Aragorn walked out of the room, leaving the prince in the quiet dark chambers.
Legolas stood in the center of the rooms for a few moments before he gingerly sat in one of plush chairs near the fireless hearth. He needed to take a few moments and let the stress drain away before he could face others.
This was going to be a long night.
To Be Continued...
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