Chapter 4

Special Attention

"Your Majesty, YOUR MAJESTY!" Screamed a thick-muscled, long haired elf as he slammed open the door.

"I swear Maeglin, I'll cut you if you barge in here like that again." Thranduil's voice faltered when he saw the grave look upon his advisor's face.

"What happened to him?" Thranduil said, his heart falling to the pit of his stomach. His mind conjuring images of a fair haired elf whose face was covered in blood calling out for his father. "Where is he?" He asked more urgently.

"He was spotted by scouts engaging with an Orc group, they assume he'll be arriving through the South Entrance."

Immediately forgetting the stacks of paperwork on his desk, Thranduil exited his solar in a hurry, yelling at Maeglin to call for armed guards to meet him at the South Entrance and to prepare a Healing Station. Thranduil ran down the stairs and flew down corridors, his robe flapping behind him, the nightmarish thought of his son wounded breaking his heart.

"My King!" A redheaded elleth called, "please wait!"

Thranduil only spared a glance at her before nodding at her to keep up.

"Tauriel this is no concern of yours." He said sternly.

"As the Captain of the Guard, the security of my Prince is my priority." Thranduil rolled his eyes at her answer, he was not fooled by it.

They both hurried to the entrance and Thranduil burst through the doors, the guards he ordered following him out and flanked him, their swords poised for attack. There in front of them, Legolas slowly limped toward them holding an unconscious elleth whose raven hair tumbled over Legolas' arm, almost touching the ground. Thranduil's breath caught in his throat as he recalled the same dark hair fluttering in the wind last night, the same face staring out into his kingdom.

"Get Rumil for Legolas and Larien for the elleth." Thranduil ordered to Maeglin who belatedly joined them at the entrance, huffing as if out of breath.

"But Larien is your personal healer my Ki-."

"Get her now." Thranduil's voice commanded.

"Legolas!" Tauriel yelled as she rushed over to the limping Prince.

"Who's this?" As she approached him she could barely mask the jealousy when she set her eyes on the lifeless body of the beautiful elleth.

"Take her quickly!" Legolas pushed Nienna into Tauriel's unsuspecting arms, her gaze still stuck on the pretty heart-shaped face of the elleth. "She needs help Tauriel, hurry!

Reinforcing her hold on the elleth, Tauriel turned back to the Palace under the fixated gaze of the King who did not particularly seem to be looking at her. Tauriel was ferried into a Healer's Station where she carefully deposited the body on a make-shift bed. The elleth's body lay flaccid on the thin mattress, her raven hair fanned around her face, her rose bud lips slightly apart. Tauriel angrily turned away, the thought of the pretty elleth and Legolas together made her heart clench.

"My Lady," a light, feminine voice called at the entrance to the Station.

"Larien?" Tauriel asked, shock evident on her face as she took in the lean elleth with inky hair that glimmered under the candle light.

"I was summoned by His Grace but if you could excuse me, I'd like to see my patient." Tauriel moved to the side, her hair swishing behind her as she did so. Larien set up her equipment, removing vials and beakers from a square leather case she was holding.

"Uh," Legolas groaned from the Station on the other end of the Hall, his voice echoing across the walls.

"Legolas," Tauriel cried out and she made to leave when she remembered the unconscious elleth and resumed her place beside her.

"Go Tauriel, I can manage from here." A stocky voice ordered, Tauriel looked up to see Maeglin leaning against the frame of the privacy stand. "Go." He urged.

Tauriel nodded in assent and turned to look at the elleth one more time, cursing her before she went to Legolas.

She stood staring at the Elven Prince as he breathed deeply while Rumil, the healer, pressed his knobbly fingers against specific places on his chest.

"Release," Rumil instructed and Legolas exhaled slowly. Rumil lifted the Prince's wrist, the skin around the bone was red and swollen with rivulets of blood seeping from a small cut. He began to take a long white piece of tape and dipped it in a bowl of green liquid with a feint decaying smell before wrapping it around the Prince's wrist.

"My Prince, your wrist has not suffered greatly and I estimate it shall be fully recovered before the night is out. Remove the tape in the morning before you take a bath."

Tauriel released a breath she did not know she was holding but her heart still thudded violently in her chest.

"If you could excuse me, I need to fetch a certain solution to seal the cut on your arm. Orc blades are very tricky." Rumil added with a throaty laugh before leaving the Station.

"How is she?" Legolas asked immediately after the healer left. Tauriel was taken aback by his question, her body stunned into silence. "Answer me!" He ordered.

"She is with Maeglin and Larien." Tauriel mumbled.

"Larien?" Legolas questioned and Tauriel nodded, "Your father asked her specifically."

They shared a look of questioning and laughed at their mutual thought before falling into silence.

"Who is she?" Tauriel blurted out after a while, "Were you playing the hero for a damsel in distress?" She added when Legolas did not reply, her mind reeling at the thought of her.

"You can't save everyone Legolas. You are a Prince and gallivanting around Mirkwood like that is stupid and reckless; your life is worth more than a thousand of hers."

Legolas' eyes snapped up to Tauriel's, a burning rage swirled within his blue depths.

"Enough!" Legolas bellowed, loose hairs falling across his head. "You're right, I am a Prince. Your Prince to be exact so this disrespect ends now."

"My apologies Prince...I just," Tauriel blathered and she reached up to brush a strand of hair away from his face but he slapped her hand away. Her rejected hand hovered between them and the gravity of her actions suddenly became clear. "I'll just be leaving, get better soon."

Tauriel scurried out of the room, her red hair swishing behind her with tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

"You did not need to be so harsh, ion nin." Spoke a deep voice from the entrance of the Healer's Station. Legolas turned away from his father, ashamed. Thranduil's towering frame moved towards his son, his tall pointed crown only adding to his intimidating appearance.

"What happened Legolas?" Thranduil asked, "Yesterday we were in a meeting about increased Orc traffic and you do what?" His voice rose considerably, shrinking the other fair haired elf to the size of a dwarf. "Orcs are pushing our borders and you leave the Palace without telling anyone!"

Thranduil pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed in frustration. "And you wanted to stay for the rest of the meeting." A humourless laugh escaped his lips. "You haven't learnt anything have you?"

Opening his eyes he looked upon Legolas and saw his head bead down and back hunched over. Seeing his son like this tore him open and a lilting voice breached through his mind.

"Firm but caring. A father and a mother."

"Ion nin," Thranduil pulled Legolas into his chest, his son's face buried into his robes. "I could have lost you today and that very thought..." Thranduil exhaled deeply then bent his neck to kiss the crown of his son' head. "I cannot bear the thought." He whispered.

Legolas reached around and clutched onto his father's robes with his good hand and lost himself in Thranduil's scent. They held their embrace for what seemed like an eternity until they heard some rustling.

"Pardon the intrusion, my King." They broke apart instantly, Thranduil readjusted his crown and moved aside for Rumil to work. Legolas' blush burned on his cheeks but his Healer did not seem to notice.

"This solution will destroy any poison that Orc blade cut you with." Rumil mentioned before applying it onto a rag and spreading it over the wound. Legolas flinched at the contact, the solution felt like a pinch on his skin.

"Legolas, I see that you are well. Come to breakfast tomorrow morning and we can talk about what happened today." Legolas nodded and Thranduil walked away, thanking the Valar for keeping his son safe.

He inhaled deeply, awe-struck at the very impossibility of her beauty. Even close up he could find no imperfection with her except the purple bruise she sported on her forehead; she had clear pearly white skin with silky black hair that fanned around her face and it made her look like she was sleeping on the night sky. Her long dark eyelashes; pale red cheeks and slightly parted lips only added to her allure. He walked toward her, his interest piqued again.

"What is her name?" Thranduil asked with feigned nonchalance.

"Nienna, my King," Maeglin replied, his eyes never leaving the elleth.

"Has her family been alerted?" Maeglin broke away from Nienna to look at the King.

"She has no family." The graveness of his tone caused Thranduil to fall into silence, he was taken aback by the answer and before he could question it further, Larien spoke.

"She will be fine. I expect her to wake up sometime tonight. Aside from that I am finished here, good day, Your Grace." She said curtly which a small bow and exited the station.

Thranduil moved closer to the elleth, careful to restrain the need to touch her sleeping form.

"Who is she?" He mumbled, more to himself.

"Nienna came to the Palace almost a year ago with a letter from Elrond and practically no possessions except a small trinket and some food. She was a mess, to be honest, but her letter was authentic and stated that she is Lord Elrond's ward. So I prepared accommodation here at the Palace and told her to stay as long as she likes." Maeglin stroked his beard, reminiscing in the memory of the dishevelled elleth whose torn clothes made her look ungraceful and dirty but even then, her beauty shone through. "She goes out on her own quite frequently but usually in the early mornings and late evenings so I don't know why she was out at this time of day. She must've run into an Orc pack, it's a good thing Legolas saved her although he never said what he was doing out there in the first place." Maeglin rambled.

"I will ask him that tomorrow but thank you for your help Maeglin." The advisor took this as his dismissal and left the Station.

"Nienna," Thranduil whispered to the elleth, tasting her name on his lips. He bent over, trying to get closer to her until her soft breathing blew on his face. Thranduil inhaled her scent and was immediately intoxicated, she smelled sweet and different and it was utterly refreshing and...arousing.

"Ada."

Thranduil suddenly straightened up and turned to the entrance where Legolas stood, his bandaged wrist by his side.

"I can stay with her," Legolas offered and he entered the Station holding a stool with his good arm. "You don't have to burden yourself."

Thranduil smiled at his son's concern for the elleth, "I shall see you tomorrow." He said before hurriedly leaving.

Legolas moved closer to the bed, staring at an unconscious Nienna, waiting for her to wake up.

"No please...I don't want you to..." She begs, tears streaming down her terrified face. Her arms are cuffed and hoisted up, her legs are spread and chained to the ground so that she stood like a vertical X. The dark room lightens when a single candle is lit and placed on a rickety table, the flame doesn't burn bright enough to reveal his smirking face.

"Erynien." He said with a coarse, reverberating voice.

"That is not my name! You have the wrong elleth!" She pleaded, her eyes glossing over with more tears. The man turned away, his frustration with the elleth overflowing in his mind.

"ERYNIEN!" He roared then whirled around and slapped her. "Ya love me!'Ave they taken that from ya as well?"

Her head lolled to the side, the sting of the slap fizzling on her skin. She couldn't answer him, he never believed her. The man reached into his pocket and presented a vial filled with a murky liquid. He removed the stopper which released a putrid smell into the room.

"Drink it Ery, it will help me make you remember," He brought the vial to her cracked lips, she struggled her head away, moving her lips from side to side but he quickly pinched her sensitive nipple and poured the liquid in her mouth as she yelled out in pain. She coughed and spluttered but she could feel the viscous fluid moving down her throat. Its effects were almost immediate, she felt her limbs sag until they were pulling on the chains; she could barely keep herself up. Then she heard the sound of clothes rustling and her cuffs opening. He laid her down and tore open her skirt then her small clothes.

"No..." she whispered, her mind swimming and blurring.

"I love you and you love me and this is what people in love do."

Nienna gasped as she woke up, her eyes darting around the dark room. The lingering smell of potions triggering fear in her body.

"Erir." She whispered frantically.

"Hmm?" A voice murmured and Nienna saw a blonde-haired elf leaning on her make-shift bed, his head resting atop his arms. "Nienna?" He sat up straight when he saw she was awake and suddenly brought his face to hers in a passionate kiss. Surprised, Nienna sat paralyzed but his lips felt warm and inviting that she melted into his embrace. When they finally broke apart, panting and unbearably hot, they stared at each other. A look passed between them which was a mixture of relief, lust and...hope.

"You've been asleep for so long," He whispered. Nienna wrapped her arms around him, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. She loved how he felt, his muscular body felt solid and hard under her soft touch. She revelled in the fact he stayed with her, a kindness she had not experienced in some time and she felt her heart swell in her chest, her arms never wanting to let go.

"Legolas..." She whispered into his skin, her voice almost a sob. He held her back and rocked her into his chest whilst gently stroking her hair and kissing her forehead.

"We're safe Nienna, they can't hurt us." Legolas would never know how truly comforting those words were to Nienna. After some time, she slowly peeled herself away from Legolas.

"Take me to my chambers, please."

"Nienna," he whispers but he doesn't delight in her involuntary shiver, "Larien has not discharged you, I cannot let you leave when I don't know that you're completely well."

He lifted his hand to touch the now yellowing bruise on her forehead, his thumb stroking the smooth, injured skin. She leans into his hand, a welcome warmth ignites through her but the wafting scent of medicine and potions are too pungent to ignore.

"Please," she pleads, her eyes glossing over, "the smell...I can't take it."

Her voice now wracked with sobs, Legolas agreed. It pained him to see how hurt she was and he realised that there was so much more to this elleth than what meets the eye. He took her delicate hand and guided her through the palace, their fingers entwined. As they walked, Nienna's mind whirled with thoughts, her sole focus trained on Legolas' hand in hers. She could not fathom how different he is, how different he acts.

When they arrive at Nienna's door, they share a sly smile at the memory of their first kiss and the problems it caused. It was strange to think that it was only yesterday.

"Goodnight, Nienna," Legolas kissed her bruised forehead and waited for her to enter her chambers. She pulled down the handle and cross the threshold into her small living space, the room doused in shadow. The smell of potions still lingered around her, even her clothes smelled like an apothecary's and Nienna could feel her heart begin to pound in her chest, and she could almost hear him screaming for her. Erynien! Erynien!

"Wait!" Nienna called frantically, "don't...don't leave me alone..."

She turned to him, tears rolling down her cheeks. He rushed to her and enveloped her in his arms, soothing and wiping her tears away. When her sobbing subsided, he broke away and looked at her sullen face.

"I shall stay," he said. She looked up at him and smiled, relief washing over her and she guided the Prince to her bed chamber. The dark room was hard to navigate but Nienna took both his hands and pulled him through the room, remembering all the obscure places she left her book piles and luring him around them. When they finally reached the bed, they stood facing each other at the side of the bed.

"I sleep here," she said.

Nienna trailed her finger down the front of her dress searching for the tie. Slowly pulling it, the string undid itself and she let the material fall to the floor. The whoosh of the material falling to the floor alerted Legolas to Nienna's actions and his imagination began to run wild. Next, she unfastened the clasp of her skirt, the click of the metal and familiar whoosh caused an itch in his palm. Was she naked? He wanted to touch her, to find out for himself and that thought alone hardened him. Then she unbuttoned her tunic, her breathing intensifying, until it hung loosely on her shoulders.

"Take it off," he instructed, his voice breathless. The whoosh of material, now the most satisfying noise he'd ever heard, filled the room and now he was sure she was naked.

"It's cold," she commented and Legolas had to bite back a groan at the thought of her pebbling nipples poking out into the space between them. Nienna reached up, her fingers exploring the expanse of his chest for the string ties of his clothes. Her nimble fingers glided on him and her soft touch was sweet torture and he was internally begging for more. She tugged on the ties and pulled before lifting the tunic off of his body. Next was his sword belt, the buckle of which rested on something hard and Legolas was dying at the thought of her touching it, even an accidental brush of her fingers might set him off. But Nienna knew, she'd been trained and restricted her wandering digits so that they only undid the leather belt and touched nothing else. Legolas released a strained breath, his heart rate thudding in his ears. When the thud of the sword hitting the floor reverberated through the room, something in the room changed, the knowledge that the only piece of clothing between them was his breeches.

Take it off, he internally pleaded, I want you to take it off.

But the rustling of bed sheets signified Nienna was in her bed and a gentle patting sound beckoned him to join her.

"Goodnight, Legolas, " she purred, the scent of her hitting him like a wave when his head hit her sheets and he was sure that he wouldn't sleep well that night.