Chapter Twelve:

The first thing she registered were sounds. She felt tired and her limbs felt heavy and the sounds around her seemed like she was hearing them from underwater. She wanted to open her eyes, but that took far too much energy. So she resigned herself to focusing on what she could hear and trying to make out what voices were speaking. After a few minutes, the voices became clear and she recognized the voices of Gandalf and Lord Elrond. They were talking about the fellowship and the general consensus from everyone that it would probably fail.

"I fear for her safety on this journey, Mithrandir. She has the proper training, but the dangers might not only be lurking from outside this motley group," he trailed off in a grim tone. There was a long pause where no one spoke and to her it felt like forever.

"I understand your concerns, old friend, but I assure you that her place amongst the fellowship will be imperative. I am asking you to put your faith in an old wizard and trust that he will see to it that our lady Laurel be kept safe." It sounded to Laurel that Lord Elrond no longer wished she be part of this adventure, and, with the memories of what had happened while training with Boromir came back to her, she found it hard to disagree. The longer she listened to the conversation near her, the more sensation she regained in her limbs and other senses. A dull throb emanated from her stomach where she had been sliced by Boromir's sword. She winced internally at the painful memory. She tried opening her eyes as she felt a little more energy coming back to her. Her skin felt warm on her face and her forearms, meaning there was probably sunlight shining on her from a window nearby.

She cracked one eye open slightly, then the other, the bright light shining in her eyes making her squint. She turned her head to the side so that she could open her eyes more to see what was going on around her. Her vision was quite blurry at first, but soon focused on the wizard and the lord of Imladris standing about ten feet away. Lord Elrond's back was to her, but Gandalf saw her eyes open and her head turn, motioning to the elf in front of him to turn around.

"My dear," Lord Elrond spoke softly as he came to her side. "How are you feeling?" Laurel tried to speak but her mouth and throat were as dry as a desert. Instead, she cast her gaze to the pitcher of water resting on the table next to her bed. The elf seemed to realize what she was asking for and quickly poured her a tall glass of the cool water. Helping her reach a sitting position, he handed her the glass and she greedily downed the entirety of it in seconds.

"I've been better," she finally rasped, a small smile forming. She glanced up to the window that had been casting light upon her, but she frowned when she realized it was very early in the day, judging from the height of the sun. Her training with Boromir was definitely not this early. "What time is it?" she asked. Gandalf gave her a sad smile as he came over to the bed.

"It is four hours until midday," he explained. "You have been asleep for three days." Laurel's eyes widened at his words. If she wasn't fully awake before, then she certainly was now. Three days? She gave them a confused look and she heard Lord Elrond sigh beside her.

"We believe that traditional medicinals have adverse and rather unexpected side effects on you, my dear," the elf said softly, patting her hand. "Perhaps the combination of the pain and tiresome activity of the day depleted your energy stores, as well as the healing process, and your body could not cope with the demand. We transferred you to a bed that had more direct sunlight to try and assist your body in regaining its strength." Laurel nodded her head absently as the information swirled through her brain. Did this now mean that if she were to become ill or injured that there was nothing they could do? Was she a lost cause if something like that were to happen? Maybe she should really rethink this whole quest thing.

"I can see that this is difficult news to process," Gandalf rumbled. Laurel looked up at the grey wizard, studying his expression. To her, he always looked like a content old man that knew one too many secrets.

"It is," she replied. She cast her gaze about the room now, noticing that a few healers were mulling about, but it was mostly just the three of them there.

"Where is Glorfindel?" she asked, slightly disappointed that he was not there when she awoke. Lord Elrond smiled at her question and gave her hand a quick squeeze.

"He had been by your side these three days and we were only recently able to convince him to take some rest. He will more than likely return soon, within the hour I would guess." Laurel nodded in understanding and slumped back down onto her back. All this talking was making her tired again and she could really use a nap.

"It has been a difficult three days for many here, including a certain elven prince," Gandalf had a twinkle in his eye and a small smirk at the corner of his mouth as he spoke. Laurel felt her face heat up when she realized he was talking about Legolas. That elf was so hot and cold. One day he wanted to be her best friend and then the next he would hate her.

"If you would feel comfortable," Elrond added, "Boromir would like to formally apologize for his behavior." Laurel felt bad when she thought about how much trouble he had probably received, but most of that was justified, she thought.

"Of course," she replied. She let out a yawn and felt her eyelids start to droop once again.

"I will notify him and we will leave you to your rest," Lord Elrond spoke softly. "Let one of the healers know if you should need anything."

"Okay," she sighed as her eyes fell closed. She heard their footsteps fade as she let sleep take her once more.

The sound of the heavy wooden doors to the healing hall opening woke her from her nap. Laurel cracked an eye open to see a figure coming toward her. As her vision focused she smiled. Glorfindel.

"Tithes lissuin," he sighed, a relieved look on his face. He strode quickly to her side, taking a seat on the bed near her legs. Laurel hoisted herself up onto her elbows and then into a sitting position.

"Someone was worried about me," she smirked. The elf cracked a small smile.

"Perhaps." Laurel smiled at the elf who seemed to have taken on a fatherly role. His attention and care for her in the short time they had known each other had already surpassed that of Saruman in her opinion. Sure their training sessions sometimes left her gasping for air and nursing a few scrapes, but she knew he cared for her.

"Do you still intend to participate in this ill-fated mission?" He leveled a serious look at her. Laurel poured herself a glass of water from the pitcher beside her bed and thought about the question for a while. Did she still want to go, knowing that if she got hurt badly enough that was it for her? She did make them a promise though, and they had trusted her to help them and keep them safe. Would her presence be missed if she were't there?

"I don't know," she sighed. She had put so much time and effort into training, revealed her secret to three different people, and made a promise to protect the fate of all of Middle Earth. "Uggh," she groaned. "Yes. I have to." Glorfindel's face remained unexpressive. "I made a promise to help them," she explained. "I know that I might die, but I have lived in safety for over a thousand years, Glorfindel." She looked up at him, hoping he understood what she was trying to say. "If I don't help them, then what purpose do I have here?" Glorfindel gave her a questioning look, so she continued. "I can live much longer than a normal human, I have these gifts from Yavanna that would be wasted if I did not use them for something greater than growing flowers slightly faster than normal." A solitary tear slid down her cheek. "No one can know who I really am, and so I am destined to be alone forever. No one would want a freak like me and I just know that if this mission succeeds, I will probably go on living a boring useless life anyway. So why not risk it?"

She was immediately enveloped in a tight embrace. Glorfindel held her tight to his chest and she felt a few more tears stain her cheeks.

"I never want to hear those words ever again. Do you understand?" He pulled her back to look into her olive-green eyes. "You are not a freak. I don't know what Saruman told you, but no one here would dream of hurting you or casting you out because of your gift. You are so very special, and dear to many of us. Do not be so frivolous with your life. It is true that you made a promise and there is no doubt that your assistance would be vital, but you have a choice, and it should not be made lightly."

"I know!" she sighed in frustration. "I've been thinking about it since I woke up earlier, and I think want to go. I promise that I'll be careful and I will try my best to make it back safely." Glorfindel searched her face for any hint of wavering, but there was none. He nodded solemnly in understanding.

"There is still the matter of the man from Gondor," he reminded her. Laurel took a sip of her water and thought that one over. This was a delicate matter, seeing as how she would be spending copious amounts fo time with him on the journey.

"Lord Elrond said that he wished to see me, to apologize, and I think that's a good idea. We need to clear the air, and I don't think I harbor any grudge against him."

"You don't think you do?" he smirked at her phrasing. She smiled and shook her head.

"No, I understand that he got carried away, and I was being quite dramatic with my acting." Glorfindel let out a small chuckle. It was not often that he laughed or smiled, but around Laurel he couldn't seem to help himself.

"How are you healing?" he changed the subject. Laurel lifted the hem of her tunic. It appeared that they finished stitching her up at some point, and the wound had healed a considerable amount. Maybe she wasn't such a lost cause after all.

"Good, I think," she said, counting the number of stitches. "Maybe some time in the sun will help." The blond elf nodded and stood, holding a hand out to her. She placed her hand in his, allowing him to help her out of the bed. Once she was standing the room swirled and her head felt light. After a moment or two her vision corrected itself and she was ready to go. She had different breeches on and a different tunic than when she was brought into the healing halls and she assumed one of the healer's assistants probably changed them. She didn't have any shoes on, but she wasn't about to complain about that!

Glorfindel escorted her out into the garden and found a stone bench by one of the fountains in a sunny spot. They took a seat and Laurel smiled and closed her eyes as she felt the heat of the sun's rays warm her skin. When she opened her eyes she spotted the training grounds to her right. She saw Aragorn, Boromir, Gimli, the hobbits, and Legolas. The latter had just happened to glance up at that moment, meeting her eyes. He smiled brightly when he saw her and she couldn't help but return the gesture. He had a contagious smile and she enjoyed being in his good graces once again. She turned back around to see the frown on the face of the elf next to her.

"What?" she asked. Glorfindel's glare was still trained on Legolas as he spoke.

"I don't trust him," came his clipped reply.

"Why not?" she questioned. He tore his gaze away from the prince of Mirkwood.

"He's part Silvan, and they are not to be trusted." Laurel tried to recall what she knew about the races of elves. The Silvan elves were wood elves, but Legolas didn't look like a wood elf, he looked more like Glorfindel in her opinion.

"But, he looks just like you," she countered. Glorfindel gave her an unamused look.

"His father, Thranduil, is Sindarin, and they appear somewhat similar to the Noldor," he explained. "His mother, however, was a full born Silvan elf." Laurel was trying to keep up with the different names and connect them to her previous knowledge on the subject.

"What's wrong with Silvan elves? He seems really nice, well, mostly," she mumbled.

"The wood elves are a distrustful, mischievous sort. They have held tight to their ancient ways and savage traditions." Laurel looked back to where the group was training. Legolas didn't seem like any of those things, granted she didn't know him very well, but she couldn't picture him as a savage. Sensing her disbelief, Glorfindel continued. "His father raised him in the ways of the Sindar, but the blood of his mother still courses through his veins. Silvan elves are quick to anger, impulsive, and wild. You would do well to keep your distance from him." He gave her a pointed look. Laurel held up her hands in defense.

"There's nothing going on between us, honest!" she defended herself. "I just find it hard to believe that he is any of those things you said."

"Just... be careful," he sighed. Laurel bumped his arm with her shoulder playfully.

"I will, I promise. But it's not like I can escape him, he is part of the fellowship."

"Unfortunately," he drawled, unamused. They stoped talking when they heard footsteps coming their way. They glanced up to see Boromir headed toward them. She could practically feel Glorfindel tense beside her, but she placed a calming hand on his arm as she stood to greet the man from Gondor.

"My lady," he bowed his head deeply to her. "It goes without saying that I behaved in an inexcusable manner during our training. I cannot express the enormity of the guilt I carry." He cast his eyes down to his feet. "From henceforth, should you still wish to accompany us, I will make your safety and protection a priority, you have my word." Laurel gave the man a soft smile. She could see that he was sincere and she was glad that he had made this grand gesture of an apology.

"Boromir," he looked up at her, meeting her gaze. "Thank you for the apology, and I forgive you." Boromir let out an audible sigh and gave her a smile of his own. "I will still be joining you all on this quest, but I do not intend to be a burden. However, I appreciate your concern and I thank you for your dedication to both the hobbits' and my safety." His smile grew and he bowed his head again to her, taking her hand and pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it.

"I am in your debt, milady." He released her hand and straightened up to his full height. "Would you care to join us for some light sparring when you feel well enough?" Laurel pressed a hand to her stomach subconsciously as she shivered at the thought of physical activity.

"Thank you," she said softly. "But I think I'll wait a few days before I do anymore training."

"I understand," he nodded. "We leave in four days time, so if you wish to resume training before our departure, you need only say so." The man made his polite exit and returned to where the rest of the fellowship was still training.

Laurel returned to her seat next to Glorfindel and chatted lightly as she soaked up some sun. He caught her up on the recent developments that she had missed during her extended slumber and she listened, almost absently, as her mind wandered back to what he had said about Silvan elves and Legolas.

Glorfindel could only stay for an hour or two before he had to oversee the patrols and continue his work with the guards. Once he had gone, Laurel made her way to the little spot she loved so much by the waterfall. She ducked under a few branches and carefully sidestepped some sharp rocks as she entered the little meadow. It felt like ages since she had been here!

"Hey everyone, I'm back!" she called out with a giggle. Soon, deer and rabbits and turtles emerged from the trees and the ponds. She made her way over to the water's edge and sat down with her feet in the clear, cool water. Fish splashed about near her toes and she felt a chipmunk scurry up her arm to perch on her shoulder. While she sat there, the dull ache in her stomach started to subside. Confused, she lifted the hem of her tunic. The wound had become less red and was no longer as painful. An idea popped into her head. When she drank lots of water and had lots of energy from the sun, she could heal her small scrapes and bruises.

Laurel stood up and shed her tunic and breeches. She left on her underwear, but rid herself of the contraption that kept her breasts in place. She waded into the pond and felt the cool water brush over her skin. She had never learned how to swim, so she reached a hand out to one of the turtles, picking him up and silently asking how he did it. She felt the motions his body made when he swam through the water in her mind and pictured herself doing the same. Setting the turtle back in the water, she decided to go for it. Diving into the deep water, she moved her arms and legs like she had seen the turtle do. When she opened her eyes she could see all the fish and the frogs and little snails that lived in the pond. There were lush, green water plants everywhere and she could see the roiling water where the waterfall fed into the pond at the far end. It was a rather deep pond and she felt her body glide through the water with ease.

An itchy feeling in her abdomen brought her back to the reason she was in the water in the first place. Glancing down, she was astonished to find that the wound had healed! All that was left were the coarse black stitches that itched like crazy. She motioned to a snapping turtle nearby and pointed to one of the first stitches. Understanding her request, the little turtle snapped through the first stitch and from there she could remove the remaining ones. Once they were all removed, there was nothing left but a faint white line. She was so busy examining the wound in awe that she had lost track of how long she had been underwater.

Oddly enough, her lungs didn't burn for air like they did during her training with Glorfindel. She felt content there under the water, but after a while she felt the need for a more substantial gulp of air.

Meanwhile, the fellowship, minus Laurel and Gandalf, had finished with their training for the time being and Legolas had been wanting to speak with Laurel. Anytime he came close to the healing halls, Glorfindel would run him off and refuse him entry. He had seen her get up from the bench in the garden and which direction she had gone, so once he put up his gear, he went looking for her. He walked in a straight line until he came to the tree line that bordered the gardens. He stopped and listened, hearing the faint sounds of splashing water in the distance.

Legolas made his way through the trees and could see a break where it let out into a small glen. He stopped before breaking from the cover of the trees when he spotted a small pile of clothes near the edge of the pond. He felt his cheeks heat up and he quickly pressed his back against one of the trees. He heard another splash of water and couldn't seem to keep himself from peeking behind the tree. His heart almost stopped when he saw her.

Laurel was standing in the pond, facing away from him with the waterline coming up to the small of her back. Her wet hair streamed all the way down to the water where the curled ends fanned out. His whole body felt hot and he knew he should just leave, that this was completely inappropriate. But he was rooted to the spot, watching water droplets trail down her creamy skin. It was then that he noticed the odd number of animals near her. There were deer and skunks and squirrels and birds. Bees and butterflies buzzed about her and she seemed to be talking to someone.

"What do you know about Silvan elves?" she asked. Legolas felt his breath catch at her question. Why was she asking about Silvan elves? And who was she talking to? He could see no one besides her there, but when she turned slightly to the side, he could see a small robin perched on her hand. He could also see the curve of her hip and the slight swell of her breast, but most of it was still covered by her arm that held the bird.

The bird chirped and she laughed, making him guess that maybe she had aimed the question at the bird. It was only when he heard her next question that he became more confused.

"What are those markings?" she asked, looking intently at the little bird. How did she know about Silvan markings? Those were something that few knew about the wood elves. The markings indicated a bonded pair of woodland elves, but since Legolas was only half Silvan, he didn't know if those markings would ever grace his skin. He heard Laurel let out a tinkling laugh as the little robin chirped happily.

"Oh I don't know about that!" she chuckled. "You wouldn't need a tattoo just to tell people that you're married or courting or something. Maybe it's some sort of family crest or a creative expression." Another bird came to rest on the shoulder of the arm that the robin was perched on and trilled lightly in her ear. "Oh, that's Legolas!"

Legolas felt his heart stop when she said his name. Did she know he was there? And how did she know these things about his people? Were the birds telling her? No, he thought to himself, that was ridiculous. But then again, most elves could communicate with the trees.

"Wow," she said softly. "I've never seen him fight before. He looks terrifying." Legolas frowned at her words. How could she know what he looked like when he was in battle?

"No, Legolas and I don't have that kind of relationship. He likes me sometimes, but then at other times he can be very hurtful," she sighed. The birds gave sad-sounding whistles and ruffled their feathers. He felt bad for giving her that impression, but it was hard for him to keep his distance from her when he knew that she was with Glorfindel, so he had tried to avoid her at all costs and seem disinterested in her. But that had backfired immensely.

"Well he's very handsome!" Legolas felt his cheeks heat up at her compliment. "He is a very nice looking robin, and I'm sure when your eggs hatch they will be just as striking!" He watched the bird on her shoulder nuzzle her cheek and he realized that she was talking about a bird and not him. How was she talking with these birds? Before he got a chance to ponder the answer, she turned toward him. He nearly choked when he caught the barest glimpse of her round breasts before he pressed his back against the tree. His heart was pounding out of his chest and could feel the increasing tightness of his breeches as they strained against his embarrassing display.

He could hear the shuffling of clothes and deduced that she was dressing so that she could leave. Without a backward glance, Legolas silently slipped away through the trees. He quickly made his way back into the gardens and then through the training grounds. He saw Aragorn sharpening his sword by the rest of their training equipment as he walked.

"Mellon!" his friend called to him. "What is the matter? You look as if you have seen the black riders." Legolas stopped walking and took a few calming breaths.

"No, mellon nin," he replied cooly. "I was just thinking about how terrible it will be to listen to the dwarf snore during our long journey." Aragorn laughed and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"You two will have to get along, you know," his friend gave him a knowing look. Legolas rolled his eyes with a small grin.

"Yes, yes, I know," he replied. He clapped his hand on Aragorn's shoulder this time and then made his way back to the main halls. He swiftly returned to his room and shut the door behind him. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and sunk onto his bed. He pulled off his boots and tunic and crossed his arms over his head, trying to calm his heart as he pictured Laurel in his mind at he pond. It was a few minutes before sleep took him, but he welcomed the feeling as he felt the tension in his body ebbing away.