TRYING TO PUSH THE PAST AWAY
BOOK ONE
DISCLAIMER: I do not own „Lord Of The Rings". Whole recognizable belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien. Written only for fun, no money made.
DISCLAIMER II: the used fragments of songs belong to The Dubliners. I used them without permission, but I hope good old Irish won't sue. Titles of the songs go: "Rocky Road to Dublin" and "Farewell to Carlingford". I find the names of Irish towns surprisingly Tolkien-fitting^^
WARNINGS: None.
Chapter 9: VIOLIN SOUND
/*/
That day was promising to be bad. The morning was unexpectedly cold for summer and the thick mist coated the valley leaving everything around feeling damp. Legolas shuddered from the cold when he poked his head from under the quilt. He did not want to leave the warmth of his bed, but feared the possible consequences of staying. He curled tighter just for a second, trying to shake himself off the foggy sleep. He counted slowly to ten and tried to keep the sore eyes open through it, yet to no avail. He was just still tired.
And then he heard it.
Violin. Somebody was playing violin, very, very quietly, but when he tried to hear better, pushing the eiderdown aside, only silence was around. He froze, trying to catch any sound by his keen ears, which have never disappointed him.
Well, until now. Legolas sighed and discarded the last remnants of sleep, miserably getting up and dressing in his casual household clothes. Suddenly he heard it again; Legolas stopped frozen with half pulled on leggings to listen. The sound was light, quick and merry with subtle undercurrents interwoven in a main melody. The music was first slow, lazy even, but then quickened only to disappear before he could hear better. Legolas finished dressing when the music stopped again and wondered who could play at this early hour somewhere in the gardens, for that was from where the sound came. He had not seen any here yet who played violin. He liked the sound a lot, and recognized the instrument quickly, for he had heard musicians playing on it in Mirkwood for the King's amusement. He looked through the window, then walked on the balcony. He didn't see anyone. Puzzled and still not fully awake he left his room. Looking out of the window in a hallway he noticed the mists begin to rise. It might turn out to be a good day after all, he thought. He rubbed his arms and went downstairs.
/*/
"Well in the merry month of May from me home I started, left the girls of Tuam nearly broken hearted…" the girl muttered under her breath, stirring the fire to full awakeness. The ground was damp with pearly dew, and so was her hair and clothes from laying on the ground in a thin bedroll.
"Saluted father dear, kissed me darling mother…" she continued, having the fire finally burning. She took a waterskin from where it was attached to the horse's saddle and petted the two soft ears of a brown-spotted mare, who neighed friendly at her and pushed her back with her head. The girl took a sip from the waterskin, supporting herself on the mare's side.
"Drank the pint of beer, me grief and tears to smother… and off to reap the corn, to leave where I was born…"
A small pack with dry sausage and half of rather old bread appeared, fished out of the leather bag attached to the saddle. The mare glanced at her owner with big, brown, pleading eyes. The girl offered her the bread, ripping off smaller portions and moving them near the good-natured muzzle of the horse. "…to banish ghosts and goblins…"
The sun was rising, making the wonderful view of the valley ethereal. Light seeped from between the quickly disappearing clouds, staining the far away buildings and fields with fair color. The trees were already dry at the top. The ground still smelled of wet earth, and the first yellow marigolds shyly rose their golden heads to bloom.
"And one two three four five, hunt the hare and turn her down the rocky road… whack fol lol dee ra." The girl sang, then finished off the poor breakfast and patted the furry back. "Come on, Roachie. Time for us to go. Uncle Elrond is awaiting!"
/*/
The kitchens were even more lively today, if it was even possible. The merry mood and excitement was almost possible to feel in the air. Legolas wondered at the happy change, eating his sandwich in silence. Neremiel passed him by wishing him good morning but did not stay to talk with him as always, hurrying to her obligations. She let him know where Erestor was and left him to eat in peace. A little confused and still missing his warm mattress, Legolas left the kitchens to obtain his assignments for the day as well.
"How are you doing, Legolas?" Erestor asked him kindly when he approached. He called to someone over the noise in the kitchens and turned his full attention to Legolas.
"Good, thank you, Sir," the Elf answered meekly. "Where will I be helpful today?"
Erestor thought for a minute, but then shrugged, really puzzled.
"You know, I haven't planned anything bigger to do today… And I have enough hands here or in the other parts of the palace, so maybe you will go assist Lord Elrond? Maybe he needs help with something. No councils today, so he is buried in his herbs and books, and I recall him asking me to bring something from the gardens."
Legolas nodded, bowed and obediently trotted upstairs to his Master's rooms. On his way he met Glorfindel, dressed in his favorite white tunic - he looked especially handsome in it. He was humming while walking, and his stroll was strangely brisk today. Legolas grew suspicious; the Elven Lord had also braided his hair and put on a new pair of shoes, made of soft, fair leather. Legolas arched an eyebrow in mute awe, walking behind the Elven Lord and waiting to be noticed. They met under Elrond's door.
"Oh good morning, Legolas!" Glorfindel said. "I didn't see you! Why didn't you call me? Or at least shoved in the back," he laughed. Legolas smiled only lightly, yet a smile it was.
"Good morning, my Lord." he returned. "And how could I."
Glorfindel rolled his eyes and opened the chamber door, inviting Legolas with a gesture to go first. The Elf hesitated; he couldn't comply and disrespect the Lord, and yet – not walking in could be considered as an offence too. Legolas hated situations as such. He went noticeably red in seconds, remaining bowed. Glorfindel sighed silently and walked inside Elrond's chamber, his mood dampened a bit; Elrond was watching them with an unreadable expression.
"Good morrow, Glorfindel," he said kindly with his deep and calm voice. "It's good to see you, Legolas. What brings you to me?"
Legolas closed the doors behind him as he came in. Now he stood near the entrance, folding his hands behind his back, looking at the ground in nervousness.
"Sir Erestor ordered me to present myself to you, Master, so that I could be of use should you need anything" he said quietly. Glorfindel grimaced discreetly at the submissive tone and form of the sentence, but Elrond shot him a warning glance.
"Come in. Indeed I would like some help in the gardens, I need some fresh herbs. We shall go together and I will show you a few of them, so that you could help me in the future and fetch them if needed, alright?" the Lord asked, smiling beckoningly. Legolas nodded happily, glad both of the calm tone Elrond used when formulating the task and the promise to go to the gardens. Some herbs were planted in Elrond's private part of the gardens and Legolas has never been there before.
"Glorfindel," Elrond turned to his friend then, "what happened that you managed to look so outstanding today?" he asked teasingly.
"Violin comes to the town," Glorfindel replied. "The news made my nerves good. Finally some adrenaline."
"Oh yes, I heard," Elrond sighed and sat at his desk, searching for something in a thousand of tiny drawers.
"You are not glad…?"
Elrond closed his eyes briefly. "Of course I'm glad. Only, this is going to be a little difficult. I wonder how to act now and a serious worry conquers the excitement. Besides, it is not said she will come today. Last time it took her three days to finally appear in town."
Glorfindel bridled up. Elrond glanced at Legolas' direction.
"Legolas, you are still standing near the door." The healer said. "Come here, come closer. Please."
Obediently coming and putting his hand into the extended one of his Master, Legolas dared a shy glance in his eyes.
"You are not showing any disrespect by acting normally. You don't have to stay upright all the time, hiding in a corner so that no one can see you. Come closer, use the chair, participate in the talk. It's alright, really."
Legolas sighed and nodded; not far away stood the armchair he was always seated in before and so he glanced at its direction. Elrond smiled. Only then Legolas dared to sit down. Glorfindel shook his beautiful head silently and walked over to the table, where Elrond was brewing something in a small kettle standing on a metal tripod.
"What, in the name of Elbereth, is this?" he asked.
"Don't touch it!" Elrond warned. "No, no, Glorfindel…! I told you: don't touch it." Glorfindel sent him an icy scowl, leaning over the kettle and stirring the content with a spoon. He gathered a little of it and stared at the green pulp.
"Don't worry. I'm not going to eat it." He said, scowling at Elrond.
"It's not supposed to be stirred."
"Alright, not touching," the blond seneschal said, turning his attention to another bowl standing there, this time containing white, pearly powder, and extended a finger to poke it with distrust.
"Glorfindel!"
"I didn't do anything!" Glorfindel defended himself, lifting both hands in the air.
All of sudden the violin sound repeated itself again. This time it was clear and audible, coming from the direction of the woods near the main gate of the town. The sound was quick and merry, the melody bursting with unhidden energy as it came quicker and quicker. Both Elf Lords glanced at the window. Elrond straightened and closed his eyes.
"And there she is," Legolas heard him mumble. The Lord came closer to his armchair, gestured him to stand up and guided him onto the balcony, where Glorfindel was already leaning over the balustrade.
The sound stopped, yet the agitation was still present. Someone riding a white and brown spotted horse was slowly approaching the town. The Elves waited at the balcony until the person could be seen; at first small, tiny like a porcelain figure, then a bit bigger as it was approaching. Elflings came out of the houses, looking curious as the person rode through stone-lined alleys; a few Elves recognized the girl and greeted her. She dismounted and walked near her mare. Legolas saw her smile and shake hands, wave to someone standing on a balcony above her head.
When the strange girl came closer and Legolas saw her better, he thought she was nothing he could expect. She was wearing rough, brown trousers and high boots. She was tightly bound around her waist with a wide strap of black leather; a corset, Legolas finally recognized. Her brown hair was knotted at the base of her neck. Her face was yet too small to see. The mare walking near her was of a strange kind, the Elf decided. He had been taught about horses, their kinds, breeding and keeping; he listened carefully to Imladris' stable boys and learned what he could. The mare was too small and stumpy to be from Rohan, or from Mirkwood blood of huge battle horses; yet the long mane and the lavish tail indicated just that. She could be bred somewhere in the North, but she was far too muscled for that. The colors were totally unfitting to any of the races he knew. Yet it was the way of walking of the horse which surprised Legolas the most. The girl didn't hold the reigns. The mare was just obediently walking near her, head to head, like a fellow, rocking slowly and lazily waving her beautiful, thick tail.
Finally the girl came close enough to the gates of the palace and Glorfindel abandoned his place at the railing, bursting out of Elrond's study with a loud slam of the doors. Elrond grimaced at the sound, his delicate ears not being fond of the noise. He shook his head and watched with Legolas as Erestor ran out of the palace to the courtyard.
The guards spoke friendly to the girl, asked a few questions, which she answered sharply. Laughter followed, as she let them to scour her; she carried a strange blade attached to the saddle, slender and curved, seemingly too fragile to hurt anybody. Finally the guards let her go and she ushered her horse on the courtyard, smiling brightly to Erestor, who was opening his arms and laughing.
"Verién, at last you decide to come, you vixen you."
"Erestor," she laughed as she greeted him, patting his back. Seeing Neremiel running out of the palace, she cried out with joy and hugged the girl tightly, lifting the much smaller and thinner creature up until her feet weren't touching the ground. Neremiel shrieked girlishly and kissed her on both cheeks. Their greeting was interrupted when Glorfindel appeared, running down the stairs.
"Verién!" he cried as she jumped into his embrace. She laughed and cried to be put down as he raised her over his head and spun her around. When he finally let her go, he playfully spanked her in the bottom and was immediately rewarded with a kick in the shin.
"Glorfindel, you're evil! Just evil, and you know it!" she said laughing.
"Of course I am, and you haven't changed at all. The same sound as ever!" he said.
"Crazy old fool" she said as she kissed him once again.
"Old? OLD? Do I look like someone who is old? Hey, where are you going!" he called after her.
"To see my uncle!" she called back.
Glorfindel followed as she run quickly to Elrond's rooms through the polished floor of marble corridors. It was a long way, yet surprisingly quickly Legolas heard her footsteps near the doors. Elrond turned to his room, but Legolas hid behind the wall of the balcony; he didn't want to be seen, not exactly knowing why. He watched the whole scene with a smile, but also with a painful sting of envy in his heart. He didn't feel like meeting anyone new. He didn't want to be introduced and submitted to a strict judgment of the girl's keen eyes. He stayed in hidden.
Elrond and the girl met in the middle of the room; she just fell into his awaiting arms and stayed like this for a while, enjoying the reunion. When Legolas heard Elrond's voice, it was slightly shaky with emotions. That surprised Legolas; he had never suspected his powerful Master can feel something so trivial like emotion or do something such undignified like crying.
"Verién," he whispered, and the girl smiled into his hair.
"My uncle. My dear, dear uncle. I missed you so much!"
"I missed you too," he said. "But you are home at last. Verién, I want to let you know that I am sorry."
She wriggled out of the embrace and shook her head. "No. No more speaking of this. We won't be speaking of it again, nothing happened, probably you were right, as always. Let's not speak about it, please. Forget it!"
"I haven't seen you for three years!" he replied.
"I know" she whispered.
"Where have you been? With whom? And how did you…" he stopped as he saw her disappointed look.
"Oh I love you, uncle," she finally said after they had stared at each other several minutes. Elrond hugged her close and buried his face in her shoulder as he tried to restrain his questions.
Legolas just couldn't believe what he was seeing. His Master so vulnerable! Who is this girl anyway, how dare she just come like this and… change him so?
Not knowing a thing about this strange female intruder and feeling completely unsettled and insecure, Legolas stayed on the balcony until she ran out of Elrond's study with a whirlwind of laughter and joy to greet others in the palace. Elrond sighed quietly, stood few more minutes alone, but quickly returned to his spot by Legolas' side and his charge saw that his eyes are glistening slightly. Yet it was not from sadness, for his face was calm and content. A moment he kept staring into the distance, the golden fields and meadows between steep walls of the mountains, and when he turned to Legolas finally, his voice was normal again, maybe only a bit happier.
"Do you still want to follow me into the gardens?" he asked kindly. Legolas nodded. "Then come. I am going to show you a few of those tiny plants which helped to save your life, dear boy. I hope Erestor will provide us with a basket of sorts." Elrond smiled and led Legolas out of the room.
/*/
All day the household was in such a merry mood that Legolas actually felt strange. It was becoming unnerving, all this constant whispers, jaunty gossips, people laughing and doing their work in a hurry. The dinner was served on time, as always, but even Belithravien was uncareful enough to sear the goose, for she was doing three things at once, including a big, wonderful, rubicund apple pie. Legolas could not stop wondering at it. She had always been baking straight after breakfast, so that the cake could be served after dinner. He didn't understand a thing.
The lack of knowledge of this new, strange guest was the worst. What was this talk with his Master about? He was eaten by curiosity, but too proud and too far above that to ask someone or listen to the gossips. The violin sound traveled through the house, and he was getting more and more angry. Finally he moved out from the palace to the stables, where he could think in peace and do his work uninterrupted.
He knew why he is so angry. It was envy. Envy of being as welcomed and as cheerful as this lucky girl. Nothing more. It was his past again which was beginning to weigh down on him, not the strange guest in the house. Yet consequently he couldn't bring himself to like this new maiden in Elrond's household. It was strange, he never reacted that way before; but he much preferred to stay out of her way. Legolas sighed; even his own imagination couldn't place him in a position of someone loved to that extent. Who would ever greet him like this, had he come home? What home, actually?...
"I don't have a home," he whispered to the golden foal he befriended recently. "And I just feel bad because my Master thinks now of this strange girl, not of me. I had never thought I would like my Master to remember about me. I always much preferred to be forgotten, that meant no punishment and some peace. And now? Look at me. I yearn for a place in thoughts of my Master," he complained miserably.
The foal put the velvety nose in a close neighborhood of his palm, clearly intending to force him to stroking. He did, smiling bitterly.
"All the time in the gardens he was smiling," Legolas said slowly. "He rarely smiles, actually. I mean: truly smiles. Smiles because he wants, because he is in a good mood, not because courtesy demands it. She… she had made him smile," he sighed. "So… she is important. To him. To… them. To him."
A sound of hooves and a soft neigh behind his back interrupted him. It was this strange, brown-spotted mare. She was let loose, without a harness or a bit; she gave Legolas a long, curious stare, went over to the bucket of water standing near the wall, drank deeply and slowly turned back to march through all the length of the stables to the open stall doors, leading to a paddock. There she went, giving the fresh grass her full and only attention.
Legolas thought for a moment whether he should usher her to a box or not, but had no idea how he could do it, since the mare didn't have any harness on. He couldn't just jump on her back and lead her to the box. He had no idea how to ride a horse. Once again he felt totally useless.
"See, little one…?" he said sadly. "What kind of an Elf am I? I cannot even ride on horseback. A sight to behold, indeed." He sighed and walked away to prepare a stall for a new guest. He could do this much, at least.
/*/
It was getting dark when Legolas decided to return to the palace. He spent several hours in the stables, feeling more secure and less lonely among kind animals.
The evening brought new surprises. The kitchens were lit brightly, the crowd of Elves filled the main hall densely and sounds of music, laughter and fun were beaming from the kitchen wing. Legolas cast a glance into the hall hesitantly. It seemed like the whole household was gathered here this night. The Elves were clapping hands to the rhythm of the merry melody played on violin; in the middle of the big room two or three tables were joined together, and on that tables stood Verién. She was flying the bow on the strings and singing loudly, cheerfully, a song which didn't fit subtle Elven ways at all. It was a common chant, Legolas heard humans sing like that often in Mirkwood. But not that merrily.
When I was young and in my prime,
And could wander wild and free.
There was always a longing in my mind
To follow the call of the sea...
So I'll sing farewell to Carlingford and farewell to Greenore
And I'll think of you both day and night...
'Till I return once more, 'till I return once more!
On all of the stormy seven seas,
I have sailed before the mast.
And on every voyage I ever made
I swore it would be my last!
So I'll sing farewell to Carlingford and farewell to Greenore
And I'll think of you both day and night...
'Till I return once more, 'till I return once more!
Others began to join in with their own instruments as those without were singing and dancing. There was happy laughter all around. Glorfindel was in the hall too; soon, as the others picked up the melody, he pulled the girl down from the tables and began dancing with her, turning her around and stomping loudly to the rhythm. The girl set her violin aside and danced, matching her moves to him, parodying his movements. They ended up laughing so much that they could not dance anymore. Catching her breath, she gathered up her violin and began again.
Now, the landsman's life is all his own,
He can go or he can stay.
But when the sea gets in your blood,
When she calls you must obey!
Legolas saw that Neremiel is coming from the corridor behind his back, so he slid into the hall and hid behind a wide column. From this spot he could watch all the gathering and not be forced to participate. He briefly thought he should find Erestor and tell him he can be of use yet, not to be accused of playing truant here with the crowd, but he saw that Erestor himself is here, sipping on the wine and sitting informally on the table.
Neremiel with a few more Elves carried a cake and other refreshments into the room. Legolas noticed some pots of juice; he was a bit thirsty, but he wouldn't dare to touch the wine. He wondered if he could have some of the juice, though. The Elves placed the treys on the tables and chairs near the wall, and came to the happy crowd in the middle. Legolas decided to wait, unsure yet if they won't suddenly find him and make him join them. That would be horrible.
Soon Verién stopped playing, leaving continuing to others. Neremiel handed her some refreshments and she was quickly involved in a excited talk about all newest happenings in Imladris. The three-year absence seems like a day to an immortal Elf, but Verién seemed very interested about every detail. She listened carefully, asking tons of questions. Glorfindel brought a chair and pulled the girl on his lap, holding her tightly in the middle and adding his brilliant remarks to discussion now and then.
The atmosphere was light and merry, everyone enjoyed themselves. Legolas could see Erestor telling either funny stories or jokes in a far corner of the hall. Legolas dared to relax; no one paid attention to him, so he dared to venture out for the juice and a piece of the cake. Listening to the conversations, laughter, songs and music he nestled behind the column. This evening started to be to his liking, even.
He tried to overhear anything which could give him some information about this strange, new guest. He didn't find out much, the girl was very reluctant to speak about herself. Only when Lady Arwen came and joined the merriment, she revealed a little about what she was doing through the past three years. Arwen diplomatically chose words in which she asked and was gentle enough not to pry too much. Legolas once again wondered at her delicacy and tact. And beauty. Comparing the two maidens right now, coming from the same family – Verién turned to Elrond per 'uncle' – Legolas saw a huge difference. Near the subtle, ethereal beauty of Evenstar Verién looked… pitiful. In fact, even near Neremiel or other girls of the household her looks paled. She wasn't ugly, no. But there was something wrong about her, as if the very light chose to avoid her and shine on the Elven maidens around rather than on a girl who has just came out of the bushes and roads. Legolas frowned, feeling actually sorry. Eventually he found in his clenched heart some good thoughts for Verién.
/*/
He stayed in hidden for a few hours more and had great fun. He finally relaxed, ate one more piece of the apple pie, found enjoyment in listening. Verién sang many more songs. Towards the end of the night, when all were more or less tired, the household started to chant: "E-re-stor! E-re-stor!" and push him onto the table.
"No, not today. I will not," he began to protest as they continued.
"Erestor, please," Verién begged as she dragged him back to the middle. "Do it for me. Everyone knows you tell the best stories."
"No… Come on, let Glorfindel tell you once again how did he kill the Balrog and covered his name in immortal glory, he is writhing on his seat, awaiting your encouragement."
"You, my friend," Glorfindel said, "are laying a joe-job at me."
"Erestor, please. Just one, short story. Don't make us beg." Arwen smiled gorgeously, which probably melted Erestor's heart, for he struggled feebly for a few more minutes and finally surrendered.
"Alright, alright! Now silence, all of you!" he called. Thunderous applause and laughter greeted his announcement before he began.
Erestor was brilliant as he was telling the story. He was a master of detail, switching voices for different characters and weaving hilarious digressions. All were entrapped within his story despite the late hour; it was a funny, light tale, easy to follow, perfectly suitable for a party evening like this.
Many Elves slowly and quietly fell asleep were they had laid or sat to listen. It was about three at the morning, so it was natural that most of them were sleeping. Legolas briefly thought that for the first time breakfast shall be a little later than usually, fighting with his heavy eyelids, almost sealed with sleep. Yet the story was so beautiful, he couldn't just fall asleep…
Coming into the hall quietly like a soft shadow, Lord Elrond appeared towards the end of the tale. He smiled at the sight of Erestor and most of his household asleep on the floor around him like small children around their father. He waited in the corner to listen to the rest of the story, sending his old friend a fond smile and pointing Glorfindel with his eyes, who fell asleep stretched on the chair, with Verién curled on his lap. Erestor bit his lower lip not to snort with laughter.
Elrond spotted Legolas behind the column, fighting hard not to succumb to his fatigue; he was desperately fighting sleep to hear the rest of the story. He was listening to what Erestor was saying with glowing eyes. Elrond thought sadly that he must have rarely heard stories in his childhood.
Erestor ended his tale finally and Elrond bowed to him in silent appreciation. The head of the household slid down from the table, where he was sitting, circled the sleeping Elves and bid Elrond good night, winking on Legolas, who had just noticed his Master. He tried to stand up and bow, but was so sleepy that his head was spinning.
"Come, Legolas" Elrond called to him. "I will escort you to you rooms and tuck you into bed."
Legolas rose obediently as he yawned and took the Elf Lord's hand. He even let Elrond to embrace him with one arm to guide him. He was just too sleepy to notice.
"Why were you hiding?" he was asked.
"I would rather listen while others are talking, Master. I also do not dance well," Legolas answered.
Elrond shook his head and glanced at the ceiling direction. Then he looked at the Elf, giving him a bright smile; he saw that Legolas was walking with his eyes closed, letting Elrond guide him. This subconscious trust gladdened him, but he could not afford to have Legolas stumble when basically sleepwalking.
"Wake up, little one" Elrond shook his arm gently. Legolas yawned.
"I no...eeping, m'ster," he mumbled in response. Elrond just smiled and led him into his new chamber. He seated him on the bed and helped to pull off his boots; Legolas did not resist, even when Elrond took his tunic off and lowered him carefully on the bed. The Elven Lord covered Legolas with a blanket and stroked his hair one last time before turning away.
"Goodnight Legolas," Elrond said softly. At first there was no response, so Elrond turned away, but then Legolas rose up onto one elbow.
"Master?" he called.
Elrond stopped.
"Yes?"
Legolas was looking at him for a while, uncertain, like he did not know what to say.
"Goodnight Master," he said finally.
"Sleep well, dear boy," Elrond whispered before closing the door behind him.
/*/
The next morning – few hours later, that is – Legolas woke up. He had overslept a little, he knew. But it was just impossible for him to wake up on time. He suspected that it was an effect of his convalescence, since even the nightmares stopped to let him sleep like dead, exhausted and craving for more rest. Now he still felt so sleepy and tired that getting up seemed unreachable, but somehow he managed. He was barely standing, though.
Some time later he walked out of his room into the strangely quiet corridor and as every morning silently knocked to Lord Elrond's door to let him know that his servant is ready to fulfill his every order. But today Elrond opened the door before Legolas could go downstairs.
"Legolas. Come here, they are all sleeping at the moment." The Elf Lord said gently, inviting him to the room.
"Sleeping?" Legolas asked, dazed.
"Yes... I love this mornings after the party with Verién. Silence in the Last Homely House. Sweet silence until midday..." on Elrond's face appeared a calm expression. Legolas, however, could not remain steady.
"But... your breakfast, Master?" he asked, worried a little.
"Do you suggest I cannot make food by myself?" Elrond glanced at him, amused.
"No… of course not… only, you are an Elf Lord, Master, you should be… "
"…always served?" Elrond ended.
Silence.
"…yes, Master."
Elrond shook his head and picked up a book from the table.
"Look over here." He said casually, pointing a tray with fresh rolls, juice, cheese and other delicious, light foods he had brought for himself earlier. "I supposed you will wake up on time, regardless of how tired you are, so I brought something for you as well. Help yourself, little one. I will await you on the balcony."
Legolas was dumbfound. Elrond walked out and sat in his armchair, burying himself in lecture; as he was paying no attention to his servant and gave him his leave to eat, Legolas sat hesitantly and unable to decide took a piece of everything. It was delicious. And his Master remembered about him. That brought a tiny smile on Legolas' lips, as well as the memory of Elrond leading him to bed yesterday. Legolas realized that he allowed him to do as he pleased, because he himself was too dazed to resist even had he wanted. He surrendered. It wasn't maybe the wisest thing to do, and not the most safe… but Elrond didn't hurt him in any way.
Having ended his breakfast Legolas found himself even more sleepy. Shaking his head as if he had water in his ears, he stood up; the world swayed strangely. Legolas pinched himself in the forearm and regained a little of clearer vision; he headed to the balcony.
The Elf stood near the door and waited. Elrond gestured at the soft daybed standing near the railing, but didn't even raise the perfect gray eyes at his Elf, so Legolas remained where he was, unsure of what to do. He supported himself on the door frame, letting his head rest on the polished wood. When he was certain his Master isn't watching, he dared to close his eyes for a while. Valar, he was so sleepy. He should not have stayed that long yesterday. But... the story was so wonderful... Closing his eyes was bringing a little relief, so he kept drawing reassurance from it. No, I cannot sleep… I should open my eyes and try to wake, he thought. It's not safe, Master can… Master can do…
But he lost the track of time, powerless to fight any more. He just fell asleep, standing.
Elrond glanced at the slender figure standing in the doorway. Legolas had his mouth half-opened, like always when he was asleep. The steady breath prompted that it was indeed sleep, not only a tired stupor; but it couldn't stay this way, one false move and he could fall off his feet. Smiling delicately, Elrond put the book away and approached the figure. Very delicately he embraced him in his waist and supported him to prevent a fall, and then, by stroking his head and whispering, he woke him.
"Legolas... wake up. Wake up, please," he was repeating.
The fair head rose, the unfocused eyes widened in sudden fear and Legolas jerked, losing his balance. Elrond easily caught him before he stumbled and locked in a firm grip of his arms. Legolas shrunk and shielded his head by his arm, whispering something Elrond did not hear, but the tone was panicky enough. Legolas was protecting his head from the blow.
Elrond stopped and stared at Legolas with uneasiness, loosening his grip to let him stand on his own. Slowly, very slowly Legolas bent his arm down and looked at the Elf Lord. The fear had not disappeared from his eyes.
"Legolas, calm down. I mean you no harm" Elrond said finally, breaking the silence.
"… yes, Master," Legolas whispered, but did not bow his head as always, only watched every Elrond's movement; whole his body was tense.
"Why do you fear me?" Elrond asked. "Listen, it is not… I wouldn't do anything, I wanted to wake you, lead you to the bed… you are barely standing on your own. What were you thinking?"
Legolas blinked several times and slowly sank down on his knees. The fair head bent down in mute serfdom.
"I am sorry, Master. I didn't think. I am yours to punish as you want."
Only now Elrond understood how Erestor must have felt the first time Legolas did something like this. Both anger and sympathy started to burn in Elrond's stomach; he quickly pulled the Elf up and without a word led him to the small daybed. Truth be told, he didn't know how to react. They sat down in sticky silence.
"Master…?" Legolas whispered tearfully. "I am sorry…!"
"Legolas, I know you are sorry and confused and terrified, but so am I now." Elrond interrupted him. "I just don't know what to do or say not to scare you further."
Legolas fell silent, looking at his Master with a weird expression. If he had been sleepy before, now he was wide awake, following his Master's every movement with his eyes as hypnotized. Elrond supported his forehead on his palm. He had wanted to suggest that Legolas returned to sleep, but he knew the Elf would not calm down enough for few hours ahead. He closed his eyes, thinking hard how to put his shaken feelings into coherent sentences.
"None of us knows how to behave around you, Legolas." He started with some urgency in his voice. "Or how to speak to you. We don't want to scare you, we try not to give you any impression that we could hurt you. We wouldn't. But still, there is something amiss." Elrond sighed heavily and gained his feet, ready to begin pacing, but seeing that Legolas' eyes go wide and he starts to tremble, he stilled himself. He stopped in front of his charge and leaned to take both his hands in his. He needed to remain calm and unthreatening. "I know this is nothing you can easily understand or accept… I realize how difficult this is. But you should… it would be so much easier if you…"
Elrond stopped. He wanted to say Legolas should trust him. Seeing the Elf, Elrond instantly knew it was far too much to ask. And the word 'should' was so unfitting what he really wanted to say.
The Lord sat down heavily again.
Silence engulfed them a little too tightly, to the point it became uncomfortable. Elrond really didn't know what to say, while Legolas was getting more scared with every passing minute. The Lord desperately wanted to do something, anything that would stop this situation from getting worse, but he knew that no words of comfort would really mean anything. He looked at Legolas, whose eyes were observing the floor with endless devotion.
"Oh, Legolas." He sighed. "You don't understand a thing. What have they done to turn you into this…?"
At these words Legolas stirred. He swallowed nervously and agonizingly slowly he raised his eyes to Elrond to give him a glance in which fear mingled with something unspoken.
"Master… I'll do anything, I swear… don't be angry with me, I beg you."
"I'm not angry," Elrond sighed and mindlessly reached to touch Legolas' face, the gesture he would normally bestow upon his own son. The elfling jumped, but did not flee, obviously glued to the daybed by sheer willpower. Elrond cupped his cheek paying no attention to the trembling. "I am not angry, I'm… desperate to make you understand. I'm afraid if you keep this up, I will not be able to help you." He said.
"What did I do wrong…?" Legolas queried as if he didn't hear, confused about what had upset his Master so. Elrond closed his eyes.
"It's not about doing something wrong, Legolas. It's about you trusting me."
"I do trust you, Master."
"How can you trust someone who is supposed to be the one to abuse you?" Elrond sighed. "I know it's too much to ask, I know you're incapable of doing so… but if you trusted me only a little, you would believe me when I say I will not be beating you."
Legolas' eyes wandered to the floor again. Elrond sighed and fell silent for a minute. Finally he decided to try and ask, but wasn't expecting Legolas' cooperation.
"Don't get scared… I want to talk with you now. About you. About… your past. Can we do that?" he asked silently, searching for his eyes.
Legolas froze. If he was not breathing in irregular, quick intakes of breath, one could think he is a statue of an Elf, not a living being. At Elrond's gentle call he closed his eyes and nodded with what seemed an enormous effort.
"It's not an order, Legolas," Elrond tried to explain. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. But I would really appreciate some information, some knowledge about what had happened to you. It's just…" he hesitated.
"Physically you did a good recovery. You are healthy again. You can move around easily. But mentally you are still unwell." Elrond tried again, aware that Legolas' eyes rested on him and were observing his face. "I am a healer. My work, my wish is to help and heal. But I cannot reach you. You have closed yourself from everyone, staying in your little world of pain, which isn't real. I feel I am losing you, that you may be fading. Dying from grief," he explained emphatically, noticing a confused glance with a mute question. "I cannot heal you. You are sitting inches from me, I can touch your face, yet I cannot touch you. So please… please, give me a chance and open. I don't know how to help you, because I don't know what happened to you. You have never told me about Mirkwood, about this stay in the dungeons which made you into four weeks of bed confinement. Please, tell me about it, try to believe that I only want to understand you better."
Legolas was observing Elrond without blinking for a long while.
"A Master doesn't say please…" he whispered finally.
"But I do. Please, tell me about Mirkwood." he repeated again, and Legolas hid his face in hands. This one word seemed to upset him a lot, for he started to shake a little. Elrond put a hand on his shoulder, trying to break through the defenses built inside of him. "Please…?" he repeated, squeezing delicately. Legolas started rocking back and forth, without even realizing it. "Please, open up to me. I want to help you. Only help you… Please…"
Elrond gathered the unresisting body into a tight embrace, unable to withhold himself any longer. He thought that Legolas would wrench free, but he didn't; was this that first display of trust the Lord was asking for…? Legolas rested on his arm and started to sob quietly, or so Elrond thought, judging from the irregular inhales and frequent sniffing. The Elf Lord's hands slowly stroked the blond head and a thin arm, where they could reach without loosening the embrace. Elrond took up the rocking, whispering delicately. This slow movements seemed to help.
After a while Legolas quieted. This outburst was surprising even for him; he never planned to open himself so, to show himself that vulnerable, it just happened. He knew he was being seen as someone who wouldn't survive on his own either way, but he just wasn't ready to reveal himself on his own free will. He wasn't ready for any conversation about his past, especially about his stay in the Mirkwood dungeon. He was sure that knowing all the details, his good and merciful keeper would surely feel only disgust.
Legolas faced the bitter truth, allowing Elrond to touch him and hold that close: he got attached to his kind Master. He got used to him being thus. He needed him like that. The simple thought that he may turn away from him was terrifying and filled the little creature with such pain that the tears started to run anew.
"Legolas… I just want to help…"
A sob was swallowed by the thick, richly embroidered fabric covering Elrond's breast. What an abomination I am, the Elf thought. This is my Master. And I… what am I doing? What do I expect? How can I look for sympathy in someone who is supposed to… abuse me?
"Listen, child… I cannot even imagine how hard this is for you. And I know I am being horrible by pushing you now. But please. Tell me everything, from the beginning. Tell me about Mirkwood." Elrond's thoughts were scattered as never, trying to find argumentation. What may this elfling fear, why doesn't he yield? Elrond searched through his head, recalling their previous talk. "I won't judge you," he said in a flash of intelligence. "I won't send you away, I won't punish you for anything, I won't leave you alone. This I promise."
Legolas looked up, blinking out salty droplets from his eyelashes. He sniffed quietly, clumsily trying to wipe his eyes and nose with his sleeve without breaking the body contact. He couldn't forgive himself, but if Elrond was to let him go, he would not find the strength to rise again. He needed to feel this protective embrace, even if it was only an illusion. Because once he told him…
"Once I tell you, Master," he sniffed, "you will be disgusted. You will want to leave me alone. And either you will send me away or demand service. I am certain."
Elrond sighed. He had had doubts at the beginning, but when he saw the extent of abuse, he became sure that the dungeon stay was not a just sentence executed by law.
"I doubt I would find your blame, if there was one at all, big enough to excuse what they had done to you." he whispered to the pointed ear. "Tell me. Tell me everything. We will find a solution. I will help you. You won't be alone. Please, little leaf."
Legolas wiped the tears away. He knew he would find no strength to break the contact, it would have to be Elrond who pushes him away in outrage. So be it. The time has come, apparently; these two months he had spent in Imladris were a gift. Like every gift, they couldn't last forever.
"…A-alright," he sniffed, resigned. "I will tell you everything, Master."
Elrond hugged him closer and rubbed his arm in comforting gesture. An unspoken praise reassured Legolas a little, and the focused, calm attention finally forced him to speaking.
"…From w-where to start…?" he asked hesitantly.
"How this all begins? Why were you put in the dungeon?" Elrond asked quietly, burying his nose in a blond mane. He was glad that Legolas didn't wriggle free. He wanted to hold the youth through this.
"My friend, Moreth…" Legolas sniffed. "He had a girlfriend. There was an exhausting illness spreading among us at that time. The medicaments were kept in a small store next to the guards' office on the second level."
Elrond felt Legolas start to tremble. The lithe body was pressed against Elrond's frame in a desperate, tense manner.
"The girl fall ill. They would take her away, for they separated the ill ones from the rest, so that not everyone got infected. I… stole the medicaments. In the night, I stole them." Legolas did not look up to see Elrond's reaction, he was too afraid he would see a displeased expression. "Silcan got better and we went to work as usual. The day before the merchant came to Mirkwood and there was a lot to do. The new transport had been brought and all… The… the merchant demanded too big a price for the King's liking. They agreed that he will pay the half of it and the rest he will provide in other means. I was… I… he… I was…"
Legolas couldn't bring himself to say what had happened. He just couldn't articulate the word. He felt like mute, something choking him so hard that it was difficult to breathe.
Elrond saw ugly red stains forming on Legolas' cheeks and neck. His heartbeat was frenzy. Urgently, but gently the Lord stroked a tearstained cheek.
"You was what? Calm down, little one, calm down. I won't judge. Say it."
"I was made… to serve him," Legolas stammered on the verge of breaking down into sobs anew. "With… my body."
Elrond froze in shock. Legolas must have sensed it, for without looking at his Master, he started to speak very quickly now, to spit it all out, to confront only one huge rejection instead of many smaller ones.
"I lost consciousness, Master, and I woke up in the dungeons. For the stealing I was flogged. But w-when he… that night… I had become a pleasure slave, for I was too spoiled and tainted to return to the household… so they locked me there, in the l-lowest level, to get… further p-punishment and… and the training. I spent almost three weeks there. But I don't… don't remember much… I don't remember, really, I swear… only pictures, flashbacks… a dark room, no water… hunger. I was beaten often." Legolas swallowed thickly. "The next thing I know is the King telling me I will be sent to Imladris to serve its Lord like I served before. I… I came to you as a… as a whore, Master… For you… to use…" Legolas whimpered at the end, his words muffled and misshapen by a heart-wrenching sob. He slid from Elrond's arm to rest his head on the Lord's lap, in a boneless, hopeless heap. The lack of air stopped him from crying for a few moments, then he took a long, shuddering breath which made whole his body lift. He thought he will die from shame.
Elrond was paralyzed. All his worst suspicions were proved correct. What this child had been through, he thought. An awful, icy cold shock gripped his heart with a force he didn't know before as he imagined what Legolas must have felt. Valar…!
Have you abandoned Arda at all?...
Legolas was afraid to make a sound lying face down on Elrond's lap. The Lord didn't know if he can touch him, for he had no idea what reaction he would cause. But he just had to feel the warmth of his flesh under his hand, just to know he is alive and still here, safe, free of threat.
He touched his arm.
"Legolas…" he uttered with a shaking voice, tumid with tears. Delicately he led the youth to raise from his lap, searching for immediate panic in his eyes, but he found only exhaustion. And the endless, deep sorrow, pain too big to cope with. Resignation.
"All this time you were afraid that you will become my pleasure slave?" Elrond asked. Legolas nodded soundlessly; for the first time from a very, very long time Elrond wished that the other Elf looked down, for he almost couldn't endure this haunted stare.
The Lord shook his head, fighting to get his voice back from the painfully clenched throat.
"No." he muttered. "No, you won't." He reached with his hands again, and this time Legolas moved back, as if in reflex, first stings of alarm in his gaze. "I won't hurt you. I want to hold you." he said with a strained tone.
Legolas made an inarticulate sound and moved closer to Elrond himself, feeling weak with the sudden wave of relief. He met with no rejection.
Again.
Elrond whispered soothing nonsense into his ear, holding his charge close and discreetly using the power of Vilya to put Legolas' heartbeat down a little and ease his breathing. He felt his weakened fingers try to clumsily grab his robe and clench on the fabric, looking for comfort and protection even despite the morbid treatment he had received. Certain phrases kept running through Elrond's head: 'new transport', 'receive training', 'lowest level'. Elrond wasn't so sure if pushing Legolas so soon was wise, but in the same time he was immensely glad it worked.
Legolas sniffed somewhere near his neck, slowly calming down. For the first time Elrond felt how the Elf responds to an embrace, shyly encircling his waist.
"Master…?" he mewled quietly.
"Oh Legolas, I am so sorry for you," Elrond said, rocking the lithe body back and forth. "There is so much I want to tell you. That you are safe. That you will never again be treated like you were in Mirkwood. That there is nothing more to fear. That I would never force myself on you. Nor would anyone in Imladris." Legolas glanced down to avoid his Master's eyes. Elrond tipped his chin up again and stroked the wet cheek.
"There are so many more questions now also…" Elrond sighed. "But we have the time for talking… we have the time for explaining. What I want you to know is that I find no blame in what you did. That girl was ill and you put yourself in danger to save her. You knew what will happen with you for that, didn't you?"
Legolas nodded. "I knew." He sniffed and rubbed his eye with the edge of his sleeve. "Master, I am not a thief, I have never stolen anything before that… I wanted to help Moreth. I would never steal anything from your stores, I swear, I'd never…"
"I know," Elrond interrupted. "I know that. You don't have to explain yourself. What you did was a right thing to do. A brave thing."
Legolas glanced briefly at his Master and immediately looked down. He had never before heard such a praise, and he never really thought that his deed could be anything but a misbehaviour, even if it helped to save a life. His fingers clenched on the front of Elrond's shirt and the Lord gathered him closer.
"Yes, my little leaf. You were very brave." Elrond burrowed his nose in the blond tresses. "Thank you for sharing this with me. Thank you for your trust. I will take care of you, little one, you are safe in Imladris. This won't be happening again. I find no blame in you, and I am certainly not disgusted. I am only worried and sad. You will stay here. I am with you. Everything will be all right."
They stayed like this for a longer while; Legolas didn't try to move back, holding Elrond's robe for dear life, and after a time he dared to close his eyes. The hold on the fabric lessened as he was relaxing, and the tense body rested more fully on Elrond's frame.
"Legolas, little one… you must be exhausted. Aren't you?" the Lord asked quietly. The elfling nodded, his head still pressed against his chest. "You had had too little sleep, that's for certain. How much did you sleep last night, three, four hours?"
"Three, Master" came the muffled answer.
"Then you definitely need to rest. Lie down and try to…" Elrond attempted to stand up, but the hands fisted into his shirt again and the pair of terrified blue eyes held his own for a second. Elrond stopped.
"Come, make yourself comfortable," he came to a decision and sat back. He leaned backwards, supporting himself on the back of the daybed and pulling Legolas to lie against his chest. He took his long, burgundy robe from where it was hanging on a chair and covered Legolas carefully, feeling the creature wriggle next to him and press himself trustfully to where the steady heart was beating. Elrond leaned to take Legolas' boots off. The child curled a little into himself.
"And you, Master…?" Legolas whispered with his mouth pressed against the embroidered fabric.
"I am here for you," he said. "I will just hold you."
"…Nothing more…?" Legolas asked a little worriedly.
"Nothing more. This is just a hug. For your comfort. We will talk some more later."
Legolas nodded again, hiding his face in Elrond's chest and desperately clawing at his shirt with his fingers. Elrond's hands came around him in a strong, silent, comforting gesture, creating a lasting and promising fortress of peace, which Legolas stepped into with endless gratefulness and relief washing over him like a powerful sea wave.
Soon he surrendered to sleep, unable to withhold fatigue any minute longer.
/*/
He awoke two hours later.
Elrond was still holding him with one hand. The other held a book and the nimble fingers were carefully turning the pages. The quiet sound appeared in Legolas' ears like a most wonderful caress. Strangely, he was so at peace; he felt safe. The fingers of his Master's left hand were lazily drawing little circles on the surface of his arm. Legolas realized that it was that small movement that had woken him, but it was a very pleasant wakeup.
He raised his head a little, giving out a small yawn. Lazily he opened his eyes and sighed in content; his Master planted an affectionate kiss on the golden head.
"Better…?" he asked.
"Better." Legolas murmured, taking a deeper breath and rubbing his eye with a finger. He rose his shy, thankful glance at Elrond and whispered to his shirt: "Thank you, Master. Thank you so much."
"You're welcome. Stay. It's alright, you can stay." Elrond corrected his position and pulled Legolas onto his chest again. The Elf complied with a calm sigh.
Elrond returned to his lecture, giving Legolas some more time to wake up. The Elf snuggled some more, yawned a few times. Elrond had to smile, observing him.
"You know, I had such a thought…" he started slowly, rubbing Legolas' arm. "Because you just focus at complying other's requests, and it's no good for you… you never ask of anything for yourself."
Legolas raised his blue eyes at his Master. There was little fear in them, but more curiosity. This was a sign Elrond was waiting for: finally some normality.
"I would like you to start communicating starting from today. It would be much easier. You see, we are only guessing; I guess you are comfortable in your new room, but I don't know for sure. I guess the nightmares stopped haunting you. But again, I only guess. This also includes questions: each time you want to ask something, you start to fumble with the hem of your tunic, did you know? But I spend far too little time with you to make sure you ask about something you want to know. So promise me, little leaf. From now on, you communicate. You don't hesitate and wait until someone gives you permission to speak. You just boldly ask. Alright?"
Legolas looked down. He had been asking people when he really needed information. He knew that for example Erestor won't punish him for that. But then, to ask too often would be a lack of respect… Elrond tipped his chin up with two fingers.
"Little leaf."
"Yes, Master," the Elf said. "I will, Master." Suddenly he felt a strange temptation to use his new privilege, hearing another murmur of praise. He thought he could just give it a try.
"Why do you call me 'little leaf', Master?" he asked, automatically going red. He felt awkward, the question strangely stiff and disrespectful on his tongue. Elrond stared at him for a second with a small smile.
"For this is what your name means in Sindarin, Legolas. Green leaf, to be exact, but you are indeed little. This was supposed to be… an endearment. Don't you like it?"
"I do," Legolas said truthfully. He liked to be called thus. It was a pleasant, soothing title, and Legolas had nothing against being called by a pet name. He liked each time Elrond said it with this deep, low voice of his.
"Do every name have it's meaning?" he asked again.
"Mostly," Elrond laughed good-heartedly and his chest rose an fell rapidly under Legolas' warm weight.
Since Legolas thanked quietly and laid his head back on Elrond's arm, the Lord rubbed his back and lifted the book again. He felt really good with the youth near him. He was sure the Elf is safe, that counted. Also, he enjoyed his little, shy presence. Legolas had a strange influence over Elrond. He made him feel like never before. Elrond wanted to shield him, care for him, teach him how to live again, yet in the same time his helplessness and endless submission fascinated him strangely, made him want to possess, to own, and it gave a strange seed of worry Elrond was sometimes afraid of. That dream he once had…
It held a little truth... He wanted to keep Legolas close. He found pleasure in the warmth that Legolas was, the softness his skin provided. Beauty of his face and general appearance was awakening each day more. Elrond wanted to be able to touch him.
Today he had him gathered in his arms and he didn't let go of the lithe body since. It was his infamous possessiveness, he knew. Suddenly Elrond imagined Glorfindel holding Legolas like he was doing: immediately his mind rebelled at that thought. No! He trusts me. Not anyone else. No one can take care of Legolas better than me. No one is allowed to hug him so long and so fierce as me.
For a second Elrond stared at the boy.
Had he besotted me…?
But no, this couldn't possibly be this way. Let's find some reason. It's just him being so hopeless. I am a healer. I feel obliged to help him. There is nothing wrong in a hug, when he so desperately needs that. If the touch was unpleasant for him or he was scared, he would tremble and pale in fear. He is neither. He is lying here, calm and safe, taking in the comfort I'm giving him, accepting my help, even reaching out for it. Yes, he is accepting me without fear, Elrond noted, feeling a slender arm still encircling his waist as if it was never to let go.
"Master…?"
"Mhm?" Elrond murmured, still lazily sliding his eyes over the text of the book.
"You are not… angry with me? Or disgusted?"
Elrond decided not to ask why on Arda he thinks that. He knew already. Legolas felt tainted; that's why he had been hurting himself in the bath. Instantly Elrond understood much more than before and knew better than arguing about every little stumble of his self-respect, for it was not what the Elf needed. He was looking for some sympathy and a reassurance, not a scold.
"Legolas, there was no fault in your deed. The things they had done to you… I was terrified when listening. It is called rape, do you know?... It is the worst violation of nature one can commit. If I am outraged, if I am disgusted, it is with them. I am not disgusted with you. Don't ever think that. You are free from blame, and you are innocent."
Legolas nodded somberly. "And… and I will… Master, I can't… It's difficult to… to ask."
"You are not a slave anymore. And especially not a pleasure slave. Clear?"
A nod. A sigh. A quiet sniff.
"Why."
Elrond stared at the huge waterfall in the distance.
"Just because."
Silence. Legolas rubbed his face into Elrond's robe nervously again, after a while.
"And if I… I needed…" he trailed off and the red stains appeared on his cheeks again. "…may I ask you, Master… may I?"
"You can ask anything of me, little one," Elrond caressed the pale, still somewhat tearstained cheek. "Try. Speak to me."
"…may I sometimes come… and would you… would you hold me like today, Master…? Nothing else," he added quickly, his eyes again a little afraid. Elrond's face brightened in a smile.
"Of course," he said. "You may come whenever you need. I am serious. If you are scared, sad, or bored… in the middle of the night, very early in the morning or very late in the evening, during mealtime or my researches… even during councils. I can always call for a break." Elrond's eyes wandered easily around his balcony and a distant sight of his golden land. He heard the first noise coming from downstairs. It seemed like some Elves have awoken at last. "And I will just comfort you. Nothing else. Just like now." Elrond ended, picking up his book again.
Legolas relaxed thoroughly, arranging his limbs more loosely. He dared to uncurl.
Only now Legolas understood he had been allowing body-to-body contact all the time and wasn't scared at all. The very scent of the other male, so unnerving and scary before, wasn't threatening any more. The hand in his hair, playing with his golden tresses, was also no reason to flee. He breathed Elrond again; like that night a few days ago, when he found himself covered with Elrond's thick bathrobe in the morning. He wasn't sleepy any more, and shook his instant tiredness away also, but felt strangely indulgent.
His eyes rested on the book again. The tiny, entangled, thin marks were neatly arranged on the pages. Elrond just followed each line with his eyes, understanding something. Legolas tried to repeat the action, but for him all those marks held no meaning.
"How are you doing this, Master…?" he whispered, aware that it was yet again him speaking out of turn and prepared on a angry reaction this time. But then, he was practically ordered to ask about things.
Elrond stared at him.
"You don't know how to read?" he asked, and his voice for the first time held a strange, indescribable note. His eyes were wide open, as if he saw Legolas for the first time.
"No, Master," Legolas said truthfully. "I don't. Nor can I write. I… wasn't taught…" he said, looking at the book with longing.
Elrond was in shock. For the first time in his life he saw an illiterate Elf. How could this be, the gifted race of the Eldar, deprived everything, even the basic education? Elrond actually never thought that slaves weren't given at least basics. He figured some have to be able to write, letters for instance, or lists of some kind of evidence or something… all his idea of situation in Mirkwood, already torn with the terrible story, shattered in ruin. A slave was just a tool. Not a person. Just a speaking tool. Without feelings. Without rights. Without needs.
A thing.
This child on his lap came from being something to being somebody. How could he expect that he knew how to behave…?
"Master?... " the elfling asked. "Did I do something wrong…?"
"No, no," Elrond gathered his charge close again and held close for a moment. "No, Legolas. I'm just a little shocked." After a while Elrond regained his composure. "Would you like me to read you a little?"
"Yes!" Legolas' eyes shone beautifully. "Yes, please, Master!"
And so Elrond did, feeling the soft warmth pressing into him even more, feeling a grin on his chest, where Legolas' mouth were touching his robe. The hands embracing his middle tightened in thanks, the little golden head pressed to the place where the shoulder joined with the neck.
Elrond's voice shook a little. He felt so good.
As if he was not lonely anymore.
/*/
Glorfindel and Verién exchanged puzzled looks. Elrond was sitting on the balcony, reading steadily to a blond male entwined in his red robe, who was lying next to him on a daybed, enchanted with the story. The mighty Lord of Imladris was playing with the boy's hair like he would with his lover's. The blond was encircling him with his arms and lazily caressing the skin of his neck with a steady, warm breath.
"They are sitting like this for hours," Verién whispered. "I saw from my window. The blond one was crying earlier. Heartbrokenly. But they are… so at peace. Who is he?"
Glorfindel observed Elrond with a mix of contradicting feelings. He knew already what his old friend didn't know. And he knew how much tears it's going to bring.