Legolas
A gentle hand shook him from sleep. Legolas was so relaxed and comfortable, more than he could remember being in a long time, that he didn't want to wake. He nuzzled his head deeper into his warm pillow, trying to recapture the beautiful rest he'd been having.
"I'm sorry, mellon nin, but you have to wake up. Your father is expecting us."
His pillow vibrated slightly with the words, and Legolas suddenly realized that it was no pillow, but Estel's chest that he was sprawled over. He leapt up, his face flaming as memories came back to him. What had he done? Any regard Estel had had for him was surely ruined by his shameful confessions and display. Some perfect prince you are.
"Legolas? What's wrong?" Estel took a step toward him, his face set in concern.
Legolas shook his head frantically, trying to gather himself. "Nothing! I'm fine. Just give me a minute."
Estel had always respected his privacy and given him space when he asked for it. Apparently, the human was done with that indulgence, because he followed Legolas into the bathing chamber, gasping slightly at the sight of blood. He hadn't had time to clean it up properly yet.
Legolas lunged for his knife, planning to hide at least part of the evidence, but Estel got there first, snatching it away and tossing it into the outer room.
"I'm not going to let you hurt yourself anymore, gwador. Come, now, let's get your arms cleaned up before dinner."
Legolas blinked dumbly as Estel urged him into the now cold water. He didn't know how to collect himself under his friend's gaze, a gaze that seemed to see far too much. Worse, he didn't know how to do it without his knife. He was expected to have dinner with his father! How in middle earth was he supposed to do that if Estel didn't let him do what he needed to?
Hands on his shoulders started shaking him. "Legolas! Look at me. What's wrong? You're trembling like a leaf."
He opened his mouth, but how could he explain? Estel clearly wasn't letting this go without an explanation, though, so he would have to try. "I need to get ready for dinner with father. I'll need to be presentable – calm, collected, ready to talk matters of state with him."
"I suppose so, but he'll understand if you don't want to talk about kingdom stuff. He loves you, Legolas."
Legolas nodded miserably. His father would indeed understand if he wasn't composed, or if he didn't want to talk about anything stressful. There was another reason, though, and this one, his father wouldn't be at all understanding about.
"I'll need to eat."
"Yes, well, you would generally do that at dinner." Estel was trying to peer into his eyes, his face bewildered. "I still don't understand."
Legolas knew why he was confused. He'd so far managed to fool Estel with the excuse that wood elves didn't need to eat as often as noldor elves, along with a healthy amount of padding in his tunics to hide his increasingly skeletal frame. Of course, Elrond and the twins weren't so easily fooled – they knew full well it wasn't normal for wood elves to skip meals as often as Legolas did – but he'd so far managed to brush off their concern. He couldn't remember how long he'd had trouble eating for, but he'd managed to hide it at first.
Recently, though, his father had been making worried comments about how thin he was. If he wanted to avoid being sent to the healers, Legolas would have to eat at dinner. He couldn't force the food down without bracing himself for it, though. The bite of the knife would help clear his mind, he knew, and help him get through it when the sight of food made him want to run from the room.
A glance at the sky told him they were running out of time. They would be expected at dinner soon, and Legolas needed to get himself under control. "Just leave me alone for a few minutes, Estel. I promise, I'll be quick. Go bathe, and I'll be fine when you come out."
"No." The stupid, stubborn human's jaw was set. "I'm not going to let you hurt yourself. You're just going to have to find other ways of coping. I won't see you bleed, mellon nin, not when I can help it."
Despair warred with panic. What now? What on middle earth was Legolas supposed to do? There wasn't time to hash this out with Estel before dinner. He'd just have to do his best for this evening, and try to explain it to his friend afterward. Estel would see that Legolas was doing what he needed to.
"If you won't leave, then you'd best bathe with me. You've got blood on you. Come on, hurry."
Estel did so willingly enough, but he insisted on tenderly spreading a soothing salve over the cuts on his friend's arms. Legolas didn't like it, but one look from Estel – a look that was scarily reminiscent of Elrond – told him that he would not win a battle on this front.
They got dressed, and Legolas tried to pull himself together. There wasn't any time to waste, not unless they wanted to be late. Estel stuck close by his side as they walked in to the small dining chamber where Thranduil ate with family and close acquaintances.
One look at his father told Legolas that he'd done an awful job of composing himself without his knife.
"Legolas? What's wrong, ion nin?"
"Nothing, Ada. I'm fine."
Thranduil's gaze went to Estel, who averted his eyes. Legolas took a deep breath, trying to appear calm and unruffled.
"I'm good, Ada, I promise. What's for dinner?"
"Your favorite, roast duck with lemon sauce."
It was all Legolas could do not to wince. There was no way he'd get away with not eating, not when his father had specially prepared the dish Legolas used to love, before eating became a chore and a trial.
Legolas tried to make light conversation with his father and the few trusted counsellors invited to the dinner. When the food arrived, he shoved it around on his plate, desperately trying to appear like he was eating.
Estel was watching the rest of the table with narrowed eyes. They were all eating heartily, putting lie to Legolas' pretense that wood elves barely ate anything with every bite. This was exactly why he'd protested to Estel coming to Greenwood. He'd known his deception would quickly be exposed. Thranduil was watching his son with worried eyes.
"Legolas? Is the food not cooked well enough?"
"No, it's fine, Ada." Legolas forced himself to take a bite, hoping his attempt as a smile didn't come out as the grimace it felt like. The food was greasy and he could feel it sitting in his stomach. Legolas felt decidedly unclean, even though he'd just bathed. He resigned himself to eating, knowing what would come after.
It wasn't something he liked to resort to often, but there had been occasions when he couldn't get out of eating, and the feeling of impurity afterward wouldn't let him rest. He knew that without his knife (and Estel certainly had no intentions of giving it back or letting him acquire another), he'd have no chance at quelling those feelings.
Both Estel and his father seemed relieved when Legolas cleared his plate, but he was sure they could see the distress on his face. Legolas barely managed to track the conversations, praying that dinner would be over quickly. When it was, he made sure he'd rounded a corner before he stated running.
Legolas stumbled into his bathroom and leaned over the toilet, pushing a finger deep into his throat. He retched violently and leaned over as his supper splattered into the toilet. He did it again, desperate to cleanse himself of the food he'd unwillingly eaten. His sides heaved and his eyes were streaming, but more than the physical discomfort, Legolas felt relief.
He was pushing his finger into his throat for the fourth time when a hand snatched his wrist. "Legolas! What are you doing?"
It didn't matter that Estel had captured his hand. His stomach knew what to do by now and it heaved without further urging from his fingers.
"I'm calling the healers."
"NO!" Legolas nearly choked as he spat out vomit and grabbed Estel. "Don't, Estel, I'm fine."
"You are not fine, mellon nin!"
Legolas spat the last of the vomit into the toilet and struggled to his feet. Estel let him past to wash out his mouth and wipe his face, but then the human grabbed his hand and dragged him back to his bed, quickly urging him down and getting under the covers facing him.
Legolas found he suddenly couldn't meet his friend's eyes. "What?" he muttered.
"No, that's my question. What was that, mellon nin? I've seen you force yourself to throw up once when you accidentally ingested poison, but unless you claim that your father tried to poison us, I'm afraid I don't understand."
"You won't. Just leave me alone." Legolas was ashamed enough of his display earlier he didn't want to add more fuel to the fire that was surely even now destroying Estel's esteem of him.
"No. I've tried leaving you alone and giving you space, and it hasn't helped you, not if you're doing this to yourself. If you won't talk to me, you have to talk to someone. Your father, or mine. Someone."
Panic seized him and Legolas grabbed Estel's wrists, desperate to stop him running off and doing something that couldn't be taken back. "You can't tell them. Please, Estel. Promise me."
"I can only promise that if you let me help you."
Scarcely knowing what he was agreeing to, Legolas nodded.
"Good. Now, tell me what that was about."
Legolas' eyes winced closed. Great. Now what? Estel pulled him close, tucking Legolas' head against his shoulder, as it had been a few hours earlier. Legolas knew he should keep his mouth shut. He pressed his lips tightly together, hoping he could hold back the words.
Aragorn
Legolas was trembling, and Aragorn tenderly stroked the prince's hair. "You can tell me anything," he murmured.
Growing up with elves had taught him patience, and that held him in good stead now. Legolas was still fragile after earlier, and he hadn't been able to cut himself to force his composure back. Aragorn knew that he only had to wait for the dam to break.
Before long, it did.
"The food feels like a blemish inside me. I hate it. Eating it is hard enough, but if I'm forced to eat, keeping it down is next to impossible. Sometimes cutting helps with that, sometimes not. I can't be perfect if I have food polluting me."
"I'm not going to let you hurt yourself, or make yourself throw up after you've eaten." There was a slight question in his words, which was answered when Legolas instantly tensed.
"I can't cope without it. Please, gwador, I swear I'm doing nothing more than what I need to."
That settled it. Aragorn sighed heavily. "You need more help than I can give you. I don't know enough about this stuff. You need Ada."
Predictably, Legolas was already shaking his head. "No. It's bad enough that you know. I don't want anyone else knowing how weak I am. Trust me, Estel, I've been managing this way for a long time. Just because you've found out doesn't suddenly make it a big emergency."
"It's been a big emergency for a long time, even if no one has noticed it. I'm sorry I didn't notice earlier, mellon nin, but I am not going to pretend this isn't as serious as it is. You're already skin and bones. How long before you start doing permanent damage to your body?"
"The food just makes it worse."
"You need food to live, mellon nin."
Legolas tensed in his arms. Aragorn's heart sank as he followed the thought through to its logical conclusion. "You do know that not eating will kill you eventually, don't you." It was more of a statement than a question.
"It would be easier," Legolas breathed, so softly that Aragorn had to strain to hear. "It's so tiring, trying all the time. Sometimes, I just want to rest."
Aragorn felt his heart breaking at his friend's words. "Surely, you cannot want to die, gwador?"
Legolas didn't answer, which Aragorn supposed was an answer in itself. He bit back his tears. Legolas needed him to be strong right now.
"I'm so sorry that you've been suffering, and I haven't known," he whispered. "I wish I realized sooner."
"It's not your fault, Estel. I hid it well."
"You're not hiding it anymore; I won't let you. I'm here for you, gwador. I'll walk through this with you."
Instead of comforting the elf, his words seemed to have the opposite effect. Legolas' hands clenched in his shirt, clutching tightly to him as the prince started to cry. His entire body shook with it, and Aragorn wondered when, before today, was the last time Legolas had allowed himself the simple release of crying. In all the time they'd known each other, Aragorn had never once seen him cry before now.
"I'm here with you, gwador," he whispered. "You're not alone. I see you. I won't let you deal with this by yourself anymore."
If anything, Legolas sobbed harder, but Aragorn understood. The tears were of relief as much as anguish for what he was going through – relief that someone finally saw him and accepted him as he was.
"You never have to be perfect for me." He held Legolas close and stroked his hair. "I love you just the way you are, gwador, imperfections and all."
A low wail of misery made its way out of the elf's mouth before the prince clapped his hand over his lips. Aragorn wished he wouldn't, but he understood that Legolas didn't want anyone to come running, thinking he was being attacked.
"Here." Aragorn pressed Legolas' mouth to his shoulder. "Make all the noise you need. Scream into me. I can take it."
Legolas did. Aragorn could feel his mouth vibrating as the prince wailed silently, the noise muffled by his skin.
He eventually broke away. "I can't do it, Estel. It's too hard – I can't keep going. Please, help me –"
"I will help you, I swear, gwador. I'm not surprised it's too hard, the way you've been doing it. There are other ways."
Legolas slowly calmed, his sobs becoming less. He tried to pull out of Aragorn's grip, but Aragorn didn't allow it, tightening his arms.
"This is a bad idea," Legolas muttered. "I was fine before today, and now I don't feel like I can keep going this way. I should never have let you see…"
"You weren't fine before today, and you're right to feel like you can't keep going this way. If I've helped you see that, then I'm doing as I should as your friend. I'm just glad I found out. Did you mean for me to see the blood earlier?"
Legolas shrugged. "I didn't think so, but maybe I did, without even realizing it. You make me feel safe, Estel. Perhaps I knew that you'd always help me, even if I was weak."
"Asking for help isn't weak, mellon nin."
"But what now?" Legolas whispered.
"Now, you can choose between one of two options. One, we set out for Imladris to tell Elrond everything. Two, we tell your father everything and write to Elrond, asking him to come here. Which will it be?"