A/N: There is a lemon in this chapter
Chapter 12
I bolt upright in bed, hand over my pounding heart and panting. I scan the empty room as best as I can by the light of one candle. Will I ever be able to sleep alone? I push the blankets off me and place my feet on the cool floor. Quiet slaps ring through the still air as I pad across the room.
I tug on a floor length robe and pull the edges closed, hugging myself as I walk. Even though the elves don't sleep as much as I do the halls are still pretty quiet at night aside from some guards. Tonight, Legolas is one of the guards out patrolling the forest. He claims he's caught up on his sleep and gets restless now at night.
2 weeks have passed since Thranduil gave us his approval. Things have been less tense since then, almost peaceful. There's still a ways to go before Legolas and Thranduil will be considered close but they don't seem to be guarded around each other anymore. I stop and take it the halls lit by candlelight instead of sunbeams. It's different but somehow the night just makes it feel smaller, intimate.
A guard passes me. She looks like she wants to say something but it's become clear that I don't know nearly enough Sindarin and the elves don't know enough, if any, of the common tongue. I paste on a smile until her back is to me, then I let out a small sigh. Keep moving.
A light in a slightly darker hallway catches my attention and I decide that's my new destination. It's a room higher up in the cave system. I pick up my skirts as I ascend the few steps. It's a small library. Books line the walls, a table sits to one corner of the room, and moonlight floods in the big window.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb." I say as Thranduil turns from the window to look at me.
"Do not be foolish, come in." He moves to the table and refills his glass then lifts the bottle to me in offer. I know I'll regret this tomorrow, but I nod. I'm still chilled from my nightmare. He pours me a glass as I move toward the table. I take it from him and then follow him back toward the window. We gaze out, side by side, listening to the crickets chirp and watching the stars that we can see twinkling through the leaves.
"How do you know when to sail?" I ask quietly and take a drink. I notice in my peripheral vision Thranduil turn to regard me but I keep looking out at the night sky. "When I was sleeping, or healing, or… whatever for those few days, I visited the Halls of Mandos." I can feel his surprise. The drink has loosened my tongue and I continue.
"They said I won't be affected by time or disease." I shake my head still not believing it. "And that I have a trip to Valinor, but that I have to take it before I die." I finally turn to meet his gaze. His brow is furrowed but I can't quite place the emotion in his eyes.
"Is this what is keeping you from sleep?" I shake my head.
"No, Legolas is gone." I break eye contact, embarrassed. "He keeps the nightmares away." My head swims. Whoa.
"Of Sauron?"
"Of Sauron. And his suffocating smoke." My throat tightens and I try to swallow. "And the burning stone." I rub anxiously at my palm. "And the shrill shrieks of the orcs." My ears start buzzing. "And the whispers, and of being used as a puppet." My lip trembles. I finish my cup in one swig, not wanting these memories anymore. Thranduil looks dismayed but I don't give him a chance to chastise me.
"Of attacking and hurting Legolas. Of seeing him fall on the battlefield." My eyes burn and my vision blurs. I swipe indignantly at my eyes. The movement is too much, and I sway. He steadies me and I sniffle.
He takes my empty glass and places it on the window ledge with his. With empty hands he pulls me to him. I cling to his chest and his strong arms wrap around me much like Legolas' have many times before. I let out a sob and let my tears fall freely.
Eventually they slow and stop. My eyelids are too heavy to open, and exhaustion befalls me. I feel heavy and sag involuntarily against Thranduil. I'm weightless as he lifts me from the floor, one hand behind my shoulders, the other under my knees. I press my face against his chest now wanting to see the faces of anyone we pass.
He walks so smoothly I barley notice we've moved until he lowers me onto my bed. For a moment I'm by myself and I curl into my self on my side. There's a quiet thud and then scraping before he takes my hand. I manage to crack my eyes open briefly. Thranduil is sitting on a chair by my bed with a sad smile on his face.
"Losta hi." He says gently. My eyes close again.
Despite how tired I am I can't fall asleep. Instead, I just rest while Thranduil gently smooths my brow or strokes my cheek or brushes my hair back. The repetitive pattern is soothing.
Sometime later I hear Legolas and Thranduil exchange words but I'm too out of it to understand what they're saying. The chair drags again and a moment later the bed dips behind me. I use the last of my energy to flip over and curl into Legolas side.
I don't mean to but I draw in on myself after that embarrassing night. Everyday I wake, eat enough to appease Legolas, train with Thranduil, silently sit in the tree with Legolas, eat a tiny bit more, then go back to sleep.
I put all my anxious energy and bad mood into training. It's been messy and uncontrolled, and I'm sure Thranduil's not happy with it but he's patient, and it makes me feel better. Even if I leave every day sore and with more bruises.
We've switched to shorter, than the wooden sword anyway, practice long daggers. It's strange adjusting to two weapons at once. He knocks one of the daggers away from me. I frown as it tumbles to the ground then look at the one I still hold in my left hand. I huff then slash it at Thranduil's side. He steps back to avoid me and I withdraw my arm. I let the momentum spin me in the direction of my abandon dagger, shifting my focus to retrieving it.
"Balance your attention. Do not let your loss of weapon leave you vulnerable."
A grip on my upper arm stops me and I'm spun back around, it's disorienting. My breath puffs out as my back connects with something hard. An arm clasp tightly across my chest from shoulder to shoulder and an edge presses under my chin.
I freeze. For a moment there's nothing, then there's everything. My heart is thundering, my ears are ringing, my limbs are hot and heavy. I can't breathe, it's too much. My brain is quiet but I can't think, only act. My eyes dart around me, it's an odd mix of the training ground in Greenwood and the darkness of Mordor. Orcs, ghostly but still terrifying, scramble around frantically. It doesn't make sense. I move to run, to hide, but something stops me.
"No!" I scream, casting my eyes down at the arm and dagger restraining me. "Noo!" I scream again and bring my hands to claw at the arm. Something hits the side of my face and eye but I ignore it. I have to get away. I struggle and thrash about.
The creature discards its blade in front of us. Mine is ripped from my grasp shortly after and is thrown to the ground with the other one. No, now I'm weaponless. I struggle harder; I feel my nails scratch into my chest a few times but it's worth it if I can escape. My cheeks pulse and burn as blood rushes through them. I can't breathe, or maybe I'm breathing too much, I feel like I'm going to collapse. I can't do that, not here.
The world turns and I'm face to face with elaborate metal. The chest plate has beautiful swirling -not orc like- designs on it. My arms are wrenched behind my back, and I'm broken out of my momentary distraction. I renew my efforts. I jerk my shoulder back trying to get free. My forearms are trapped in one hand while another presses between my shoulder blades, immobilizing me.
"Farn! Postalín maeth." My eyes shoot up to the voice's owner, blue eyes and long blonde hair. "You have already injured yourself." My eyes can't pick one feature to focus on and frantically dart around the face of Thranduil. I pant heavily and my brows knit.
I switch to looking over my shoulder the best I can at the field, checking for orcs. It feels like my brain is frantically working in slow motion, wanting to process faster but not having the ability to. I don't see anything though; the field is bright and empty.
Confusion and misery and exhaustion settle in my muscles. My eyes droop closed, and I feel too heavy to hold up. I lean my forehead against the cool metal chest plate in front of me. Unease creeps up my back and I suppress a shiver. The last of my fight leaves my body and tears spill out with it. I'm frustrated and angry and sad that I can't escape those things but also relived they're not real. I feel crazy, like a walking contradiction.
"Toltha lonneg." He strokes my hair gently and I hear him give instructions in Sindarin that I don't understand. I'm too exhausted to do anything other than be numb. I blink dazedly and a few more tears slip down my face. At some point I'm picked up again, being carried for the second time in a week by the king. How embarrassing. Weariness finally takes me and pulls me into the darkness.
"She spoke of nightmares but not of trauma like this…"
"Have faith Legolas, she is strong. Stronger than I thought, a weaker elf would fade."
"I am frightened Ada. I cannot lose her, not now."
"You will not."
Consciousness crept in slowly, the voices sounding like the edge of dreams. I cleared my dry throat and swallowed, my face crinkling with the effort. I bring my hand up to rub at my eyes and groan as pain shoots through the left side of my face. Finally, I peel my eyes open to check my hand. No blood at least.
"You are heavily bruised." Thranduil's voice commands my attention. From the corner of my eye I see Legolas stop pacing and turn to look at me with an unreadable expression, like I'm a wild animal and he's unsure how to act or maybe how I'll react. "You struck yourself with your own blade during your struggle. Luckily it was only the wooden practice one."
My struggle? Shrieking fills my groggy mind and I flinch. Anxiety crushes me and I search the room for the orcs. A pressure on my shoulder forces me back onto the bed and down onto my side. When did I get up?
"There is no threat here." Thranduil pulls the blanket back up to my shoulders. I look to Legolas, he's standing back, a look of pain entwined with helplessness.
"I'm okay." I whisper to him, hoping to ease the turmoil he's clearly struggling with, and to offer whatever comfort I can.
"You are not. The past will plague you until the matter is resolved." Thranduil says regretfully.
"Why hide the gravity of your burdens?" Legolas finally comes and kneels at my bedside. He takes my hand in his and we regard each other; him concerned, me ashamed.
"It's embarrassing." I break our eye contact and look away. "It seems like everyone else here have faced many battles and horrors and they're fine." Legolas strokes my cheek with the back of his fingers but doesn't force me to look at him.
"You faced the greatest evil this world has know head on. Do not diminish your plights and triumphs." Thranduil chides, it doesn't ease my doubt. I look to where he stands, arms crossed, observing. Legolas brings my attention back to himself.
"This world is dissimilar to your own. Wars and battles and hunting are commonplace here. Men, dwarves, elves… we're all raised learning to protect and defend. You were thrown into the midst of misrule. Your ordeal has not long passed either. The hobbits have had years of healing. Even so, Frodo toiled with his journey unendingly. Only recently did he sail to Valinor for reprieve." It's quiet while I try to force myself to accept his words.
"I too have faced great evil, the Serpents of the North." Thranduil says sympathetically. "We both bear physical reminders of the past." He lets the faintest hint of a scar show through the smooth skin of his cheek before concealing it again. I rub at the rough skin of my palm. "With time you shall heal."
"How?" I can't stop the skepticism from tinging my tone.
"Strength your hröa and mend your fëa. Training from Legolas or his former teacher with the bow and myself with the blade will provide you the skill you need to feel safe in your abilities. Connecting with nature and learning to balance your fëa will allow you to master your mind and bring you the peace you require." Thranduil counsels.
"Okay." My eyelashes brush on my pillow as I nod. "Is that what you did?" I ask quietly. His lips tighten into a thin line. I watch as his gaze flicks to Legolas briefly. His brow furrows with… regret? Then he leaves without another word.
"I think I should see your teacher." I say to Legolas forcing my voice to be lighter. He retreats the slightest bit looking affronted. I grin at him. "You're much too distracting to be able to learn anything." He barks out a laugh and learns forward to kiss my forehead.
"You will need to reign in this desire of yours meleth nin or we are due a testing betrothal." He replies teasingly.
"Other activities meleth nin, other activities." I pat his cheek and say in a patronizing tone as if he doesn't have the knowledge or ability to push me over that cliff easily. Amusement and incredulity blend on his face as he shakes his head at me.
In the end we actually decide it's better for me to train under Legolas' teacher if I truly do want to be able to pay attention and learn. We took the rest of the day to relax up in our tree then I started archery lessons bright and early the next morning. I understand why Legolas makes the skill look so effortless now.
Ravaedion, Legolas' former teacher, is polite but very serious about training. Oh boy, it's agonizingly slow progress. He has me start each morning by just stepping in and out of form, I swear, at least 30 times. It's going to become second nature even for me. Set my feet, grab an arrow from my quiver, notch it, pull back, and return my arrow to my quiver. I'm pretty sure I could do it in my sleep now.
Thranduil is as ruthless as ever in his training, but it's assuaged by his mindfulness. We train hard combinations of blocks and parry's with both word and long daggers. He also informed me we will address hand to hand combat, and what to do if I get caught from behind again, but we won't touch that until I've made progress controlling my emotions so I don't end up hurting myself again.
Sídheduil, my meditation guide, is the picture perfect pillar of tranquility. Meditation has definitely been the hardest for me and he has blessed me with endless amounts of patience. I can't even do the first step of just sitting quietly. The moment I even try focusing and clearing my mind I start fidgeting. It feels like my insides are rocking and shaking so much I'll fall over.
He claims we're doing too much too quickly. Going forward he wants to break it up into 5 minute sessions that I do when I wake and before bed, then increase from there once we've made some progress. He is also putting together a script to talk me through it and give me something to focus on.
"It's going well. I know it's only been a week, but I feel optimistic." I smile softly at Legolas as he lays along our branch.
"Gi melin." My smile turns amused at his change of conversation.
"Gi melin eithro." He sits up quickly and my back flattens against the trunk of the tree not expecting his sudden movement.
"Athadhir bestanin?" He asks looking in my eyes.
"What does that mean?" I ask with a slight shake of my head.
"Will you marry me?" I'm momentarily shocked silent.
"Of course, but you already know that, we've talked about it…" I trail off slightly lost.
"Aye, we have. Yet, I wished to propose with these." He reaches into a pocket and retrieves two silver bands. He takes my hand and places the rings in my palm before taking the smaller one and splitting it on my index finger.
"Athanin besadhir." I say, then look at him unsure. "Did I say that right?" He beams, face alight with love and joy.
I'll take that as a yes. I smile and put the silver ring on his index finger. If anyone were to pass us they'd see two people smiling ridiculously at each other but I don't care. I lean forward then take his face in my hands and kiss him, hard.
One of his hands finds my waist while the other tangles in my hair and he leans into me, pushing me back against the tree. I open my mouth to him, and he deepens the kiss. I slide my newly decorated hand down and scratch my nails at the nape of his neck. He groans into me, and the rumbles make me moan in return.
He pulls back and leans his forehead against mine. I pant, trying to catch my breath and place my hand over his heart knowing he is not going to go any further. This is going to be a long year.
"Gi melon." I whisper to him.
"Gi melon." He whispers back.
~ One Year Later ~
I look around the table at our joyful friends. Arwen, Aragorn, their baby boy Audrey, Lord Elrond, Gimli, Gandalf, Merry, Pippin, Sam, and Rosie all made the journey out here for a 2 week stay. To celebrate us. I smile at Legolas as he jokes with Gimli. I feel different, mature, even though I know I'll never reflect those changes externally.
A lot has changed in the last year. I only train for fun now, or to keep up my skills. I spend time connecting with the world around me almost everyday, meditating up in our tree. I still get nightmares but they're so infrequent now. Legolas and Thranduil have also gotten so much closer.
A soft violin piece starts up and Thranduil stands from the table, glass in hand. He places his palm on Legolas' shoulder and then smiles down at me. We look up at him fondly. He steps back and we stand, facing each other and holding hands.
"Mellyn, Thank you for your presence today." Thranduil says addressing and commanding the rooms attention.
"Lasto iâl Legolas ar Delilah, ar elio din Eru." (May Varda Star-kindler hear Legolas and Delilah's calls, and may Eru the Father of All bless them) Surprise and gratitude fill me hearing Thranduil speaking traditionally the mother of the bride's portion of the blessing.
Legolas told me more in depth about elvish wedding customs after we officially got betrothed. Guilt always sat heavy in my heart that I wouldn't have any family to fulfill his peoples' customs when the day came. I convey the best non-verbal 'thank you' that I can to Thranduil.
"Tiro Legolas ar Delilah Aran Einior, ar elio din Eru." (May Manwë Lord of Wind watch over Legolas and Delilah, and may Eru the Father of All bless them) He finishes his portion of the blessings and I turn back to Legolas.
We slip off our silver rings and return them to each other. He handles everything so delicately and by extension makes me feel cherished, like I'm the most important thing to him. I untie the small velvet pouch from my wrist and take out the gold band. Legolas carefully fixes my new thin gold ring in place, and I do the same for him.
In one moment of eye contact we share an unending amount of devotion, joy, appreciation, and love. My heart swells and we come together, meeting in the middle, for an impassioned kiss. We don't go any further than the press of our lips to each other, but we don't need to. To us, our kiss speaks volumes, and besides, we have all the time in the world for more later on.
We pull apart and everyone breaks into applause. I smile and laugh at them all, then lean into Legolas' embrace.
"Savo 'lass a lalaith!" Thranduil raises his glass. Legolas and I grab our own glasses and raise them with the rest of the table.
"Savo 'lass a lalaith!" Everyone responds then drinks. We return to our seats hand in hand.
I watch curiously as Arwen shares a look with Aragorn and then hands their son over to Lord Elrond. I smile as he bounces him on his knee and makes a silly face at the baby. Arwen takes Aragorn's hand, and they stand. Arwen leads their way over to Legolas and me.
"Barring objections, we'd like to gift a gem to Legolas in your mothers' stead." My eyes fill with tears as the people I met here once again display the enormity of their thoughtfulness.
I nod and squeeze her hand in appreciation. Aragorn clasps my shoulder and I grasp tightly onto his hand. Arwen moves around me to stand before Legolas. I watch as she places a thin black chain around his neck. A small green crystal with black marbling hangs on his chest. It's perfect.
Thranduil stands and makes his way over to me. Aragorn gently pries my hand off his and they return to their seats. Thranduil cups my cheek then brushes a stand of hair behind my ear before placing a gold chain around my neck. I look down and finger the gem. An emerald green pear cut gem is attached to the chain my gold curly willow branches. Just like the tribute to Legolas' mother, his wife.
"Guren glassui." I say and squeeze his hand. He nods kindly and returns to his seat. Legolas and I stay and talk for a while more but he seems eager to leave.
"I beg your pardon, but we must take our leave." Legolas announces, standing from the table abruptly. I flush at his uncharacteristic actions and the fact that nearly everyone at this table knows what he wants to 'take our leave´ to do.
He extends a hand to me and I take it, standing with him. Do Not Look At Thranduil. I mumble a 'good night, everyone' and follow him as he pulls me to his room. We started sharing it as it was nicer than mine.
I move to stand in front of the flickering warm fire while he closes the door. It softly clicks and his footsteps draw closer to me. He stops so close I can feel his presence radiating along my partially exposed back.
He kisses the spot where my neck meets my shoulder once and lingers, every exhale he makes flutters across my skin. He slowly starts unlacing the ties at the back and my dress falls loose. I catch it with a hand to my chest. He pulls one more lace and stops.
His fingertips ghost down the back of my neck and across my shoulders to the wide collar of my dress. He catches the fabric and drags it along my skin, down my arms. He gives a little push when he meets resistance and I let my hand drop away. The dress pools around my feet and I step out of it, turning to face him.
I trail my gaze from his eyes, to him mouth, down his throat, to the top button of his tunic. I take my time freeing each one before pushing the fabric back and off him. I admire his beautiful chest before meeting his gaze again. There's no uncertainty, only desire, so I loose the buttons on his pants and push them down to the floor too.
I take half a step back and look up to him again. We search each other for any sign of hesitation, and finding none, shift to appreciating each others figures. My skin is ablaze with the attention. A faint blush prickles on my chest threatening to spread upward.
"Ci írui." He says huskily, breaking our trance.
"Míthanin." I whisper out.
He steps forward cupping my jaw with both hands. His mouth covers mine. This kiss is fiery, passionate, unrestrained. I reach up around him, holding him to me, my hands on the back of his neck. He kisses the corner of my mouth, down my jaw, to my collarbone.
"Legolas." I plead. His hands find my hips and he guides me backward; not stopping his assault on my body and senses. My calves hit the edge of the bed. HE cups the back of my head and twists us onto the bed. We stop for a moment panting together, his golden hair shielding us from everything but each other.
I reach down and take him in my hand. He's hard but his skin is soft and smooth. I stroke him and his eyes close in pleasure. His forehead drops to my shoulder and I steady my pace wanting him to feel even a fraction of the way he makes me feel.
"Daro." He grabs my wrist, stopping me.
He takes a few deep breathes and moves my hand to the side. My breath hitches at the pressure against my clit. He strokes me up and down a few times, fingers gliding through my wetness. I whimper as he passes over my clit again and he focuses smooth circles over it.
"Please." I gasp out and grab his sides.
He slips a finger inside me and strokes my inner walls. My God. I'm on fire. My hips move up to meet him stroke for stroke. I need more. Like he can read my thoughts, he slips a second finger inside me. I groan. My eyes close involuntarily and my head lulls back.
He takes my now exposed neck into his mouth, nipping and suckling. My core clenches and he moves down my body. He takes a nipple and rolls it gently between his lips and teeth. The tinge of painful pleasure shoots a current through my body that sends me over the edge.
"Legolas!" I hold myself to him while he steadily strokes me through my orgasm. I sink back into the bed as my body relaxes and I open my eyes. He's watching me with intense desire. Heat rises through me again and tickles my cheeks.
"Carmela an nin." I stroke some hair behind his pointed ear and cup the side of his neck.
He shifts his weight to one side and reaches between us to line himself up. I bend a knee opening myself for him. He silently questions me one last time. I nod then cup his face to kiss him and he pushes inside. It's tight and I feel full but I'm still relaxed from moments ago so it's not painful.
He rocks his hips and I nearly come again. If before were jolts of electricity, this is fireworks exploding all over my body. I can't help the involuntary clench and he moans lowly. He grasps my tight and his pace quickens, almost desperately. My eyes fall closed again.
"Aní ron cened i chent gîn ni gellog." I force my eyes open to meet his. His voice is deep and so smooth. I'm not going to last long. I don't know what prompts me to but I slide my hand up from his neck to caress the tip of his ear. He lets out a low moan and we come together.
He stills deep inside me once my body falls lax and his forehead falls to my shoulder again. My head falls back and our heavy panting is the only sound in the room. He rolls to his side slipping out of me. I frown at the loss of contact and emptiness inside me. He chuckles and smooths my brow.
"Give me a moment and I shall return to my station." I look at him surprised.
"You want to go again?"
"Very much so." He grins at me and my cheeks burn.
"But… aren't you tired? Don't most guys fall asleep after…"
"I am an elf meleth nin, we have more stamina than men." He smirks at me. I'm sure I look like a tomato. "Parthech, and i dhû hen." Tingles set my nerve endings on fire. He is going to be the death of me.
I spend most of the morning curled up in bed with Legolas avoiding our guests. I don't anticipate the hobbits or Arwen will tease me much but I'm sure I'll hear it from Aragorn or Gimli. And oh god, what about Thranduil. I groan.
"What is it meleth nin?" Legolas kisses my bare shoulder.
"We can never leave here." He raises an eyebrow at me. "They're going to know what we did." He lets out a laugh and rolls onto his back.
"It is nothing to be ashamed of. No one will bother you meleth nin. Let's go." He tosses the blanket off us. I sigh dramatically but follow him anyway.
Like I suspected the hobbits and Arwen are just happy to see us again. Aragorn is the first one to hint at anything. He smirks, my face flushes. He opens his mouth to say something but his gaze lands behind me and he lifts his hands, palms out placatingly, and backs away slowly. I look behind me and Legolas is glaring over my shoulder at him. I laugh and continue in the direction we were going.
Thankfully Thranduil is so cultivated that you'd never know he knew what happened if it weren't for the fact that he is an elf, and he had been married, which meant that he knows the customs. Gimli on the other hand has no filter.
"Sounded like ya' had a good night lassie!" He jests loudly.
"Oh my god." I turn to run and hide but Legolas is behind me and traps me against his chest. Probably not helping the matter.
"Enough Gimli, that is not appropriate conversation for female company." Legolas warns. For female company? I want to look up at him and scold him but I think I'd rather him deal with Gimli than lift my head and say my piece.
"I'm jus' happy for her is all laddie. You both deserve some stress relief." I can hear his eyebrows waggle. I groan and thud my head against Legolas' chest. He places a hand on the back of my head to stop me.
"Alright alright, I know when I'm not wanted. Try to spend some time outside your chambers." He teases as his footsteps get quieter.
I groan and hunch over the bucket that was brought to our room. My stomach turns and I harshly dig the heels of my hands against my brow bone.
"How do you feel?" Legolas asks, closing our door behind himself.
"Awful." I say trying to hold down my stomach and tears.
Our friends are supposed to leave in a few days and I've spent the last 2 in bed feeling like my stomach hates me, or food, or both. Legolas sits beside me and rubs my back soothingly. My lip quivers.
"I suggest council with Lord Elrond before he departs." He says worriedly. I nod reluctantly. Mandos and Manwë said human disease was not supposed to touch me. "I will summon him." He gets up and leaves.
A few moments later they return. Legolas stands to the side while Lord Elrond sits on the edge of our bed. He places a hand on my forehead and asks me a few questions like symptoms and duration.
"Mostly sick to my stomach, and a few days. It doesn't feel like illness, actually the Valar said it couldn't be, but I definitely don't feel well." Nausea washes over me again.
"Lay back. I'm going to try and get a sense of it." He helps me lay flat on my back.
I focus on breathing, in through the nose, out through the mouth. He hovers a hand over my forehead, eyes falling unfocused as he works, and he starts changing quietly. Slowly he moves down my body. When he gets to my abdomen he freezes and looks at me.
"What is it?" Legolas rushes forward with concern.
"It appears you will have a blessing to welcome next year." He says cryptically.
"You cannot mean…" Legolas trails off looking at Lord Elrond with excitement.
"Mean what?" I ask already irritated from my prolonged discomfort.
"You are with child." Legolas says grabbing my hand, I bolt upright and instantly regret it. Legolas rubs my back while I reach for my bucket.
"That's not possible. It was one night. And it's too early to tell, we'd need another 5 days or so." I protest.
"Contrarily, elves normally know the day of conception. Though, there are few mixed race matches and even fewer conceptions. This is my best guess based on the knowledge available to me at the moment." Lord Elrond cautions.
Legolas seems to be aware of my internal panic and turns me to face him. He breaths dramatically so I can copy his breathing pattern.
"Oh my god." I whisper in disbelief. "We're going to be parents."
Notes:
Losta hi – sleep now
Farn! Postalín maeth – enough! Cease your fighting
Meleth nin – my love
Gi melin eithro – I love you too
Athadhir bestanin – will you marry me
Athanin bestadhir – I will marry you
Mellyn – friends
Lasto iâl Legolas ar Delilah, ar elio din Eru – May Varda Star-kindler hear Legolas and Delilah's calls, and may Eru the Father of All bless them
Tiro Legolas ar Delilah Aran Einior, ar elio din Eru – May Manwë Lord of Wind watch over Legolas and Delilah, and may Eru the Father of All bless them
Savo 'lass a lalaith! – Have joy and laughter/cheers
Guren glassui – thank you from my heart
Ci írui – you're desirable
Míthanin – kiss me
Daro - stop
Carmela an nin – make love to me
Aní ron cened i chent gîn ni gellog – I want to see your eyes when you come
Parthech, and i dhû hen – Prepare yourself, long will be this night