THE FORGOTTEN

Sant Remmen

Tangled Garden

Author's Note: The chapter in which – Legolas shows her some drawings and Lothril tears out some weeds. …re/reading in real time date- mid March. I quasi-arbitrarily picked the 12th. …I have about three chapters writing themselves simultaneously right now, and they have been writing themselves kinda parallel to each other. To the extent that I keep getting confused on what chapter I'm working on. To the extent that I saved something that is likely going to be in two or three chapters from now as this chapter and if I hadn't had it backed up on my kindle, I would have lost it.

-⸙ - ⸙-

"Oh, I do hate this time of year and I am seriously missing my old snow boots right now!" Lothril groused as they carefully picked their way towards the waterfall.

"I understand missing your boots, but why do you hate this time of year?" Legolas asked.

She gave a wide, two armed, sweeping gesture to the forest. "This! It's slush and mud soup!"

"And that is one reason why I dragged you out here," he said with a grin.

"Are we going to the waterfall?"

"Just past it," he answered.

"I assume whatever it is you want to do couldn't be done nearer the palace?"

"And that is the other reason. You have been inside too long."

"Well, the weather has been miserable."

"It has, but today is fine and clear and you desperately need to get out." He stopped walking and looked about. "I was going to take you further, but I think here will do just as well. The ground looks very muddy further on. Close your eyes."

Lothril shot him a skeptical look, but obeyed.

"What do you hear?"

"Is this another Wood Elf lesson?"

"What do you hear?" He repeated sounding ever so slightly amused to her ears.

"The river, the falls, a very slight breeze, some birds, some squirrels," she answered.

"And?"

She sighed. "Care to be more specific or is this a hearing test?"

"So sarcastic this morning! Do you hear the tunefulness of the river and the breeze in the trees?"

"Yes."

"Now think back to winter. Does it sound the same as then?"

She listened a minute then said, "No, it is different."

"That is because it is echuir. Now come with me and lay your hands on the nearest tree."

She her eyes and followed him a few feet over to a beech and put her hands on the trunk.

"How does it feel compared to the trees already with leaves that you felt back at your parents' house?"

"Oh! This is much more vigorous feeling! Is it because it is spring?"

He nodded. "Indeed, it is. I know you observed these things as a human, but consider them anew as an elf; winter is for rest, spring is for renewal, summer is for growth, autumn is for harvest. All living things follow this cycle, but in different ways. Men see many changes of the seasons but their lives only go through it once. We endure it many times over in different ways. By being young then bearing children and then grandchildren. By watching mortal things and people we love come and go. By watching the world around us change as we remain. There is a bitterness and a sweetness to this. You and I are about to enter a very sweet spring as we wed this coming autumn."

She mulled over what he said for a minute and her mind started connecting a few thoughts. "Where are you going with this?"

"The spring of any cycle tends to be vigorous and-"

"That's what I thought. Just tell me you plan on having me every night," she teased.

He smiled and took her hands. "Because your 'no' will still stop me immediately. Rather, I want you to realize our desires are only going to gain strength as the time comes and I want you to yield to that gladly, Lothril."

"I think I have been doing a good job of that lately."

"You have, but you have also been struggling with your feelings."

"You noticed that?"

He nodded. "It has been hard for me to miss, though I doubt anyone else has noticed. Can you tell me about it?"

"Can we walk and talk?"

"Certainly."

With that they began walking deeper into the forest.

"I really do not understand what I'm struggling with."

"Do you know what it is related to?"

She huffed and said, "Her and everything else. And it is beyond frustrating! I know what happened, I have accepted it, but - I don't know."

"Hmm. Sometimes things need to be dealt with in stages. You have thought through it and talked through it, perhaps now you need to physically do something to get through this stage," he answered.

She frowned. "Maybe. Any suggestions?"

"Truly, it could be anything. Walking and talking, drawing, music, darts; Ada-adar used to go on bread baking sprees when things bothered him. The more elaborate the loaf, the more upset he was. He once made a braided loaf of cinnamon apple bread that looked like an apple tree complete with apples and green leaves. And it was delicious!"

"I shall have to think about it," Lothril said.

"I cannot tell you what will work, but I can tell you when you alight upon what does, you will know it."

She nodded. "Where are we going?"

"We are taking a longer path to a certain place beyond the falls," he answered.

They went along the messy slushy muddy leafy path for a ways in silence before Lothril said, "I was looking at my calendar this morning and you know what I found interesting?"

"What did you find interesting?"

"That our wedding feast is scheduled two days before a new moon," she answered.

"This is true."

"So... While we are out and about, could you show me where you are thinking of observing our new moon tradition?"

"It is tempting, but I shall refrain for the time being. I want you to first see it when it is fairer looking."

"Can you at least tell me where it is?"

"Certainly not!"

"You are a brat, you know that?"

He laughed. "Perhaps, but I have my reasons."

She gave him a look but let it drop. "These trees are thick here! I wager it's nearly black back here when the leaves are out in full!"

"It is dark, but not as dark as the rest of the forest was when the shadow was on it. And it is very peaceful, generally," he replied.

At length the sound of the river grew stronger again and the sound of the waterfall was behind them. The land began to decline gently and then open up into a flat little valley in which there was a spreading pool with gently rippling water reflecting the barely budding branches as the river gently flowed past the edge of it.

"This is a very pretty place, even in the slush and mud," Lothril said.

"I am pleased you think so for this little pool is one of the places I like to escape to in summer," Legolas replied.

Lothril looked around as she said, "You do not have a cabin here too, do you?"

He pointed up into the trees.

She looked up and saw a flet almost directly above their heads. "How do we get up there?"

"If you feel like a climb, follow me. Otherwise I shall lower the ladder," he answered. With that he went over to a close tree and jumped, grabbing a lower limb some feet above his head. Lothril followed suit and up they climbed then over to the flet, upon which she could now see there was a tiny little cabin. He went to the door and unlocked it and explained the lock was only needed to keep clever animals out, and immediately opened the shutters and windows.

It was one room; a small fireplace, a bed, and a small table and two chairs. Simple, snug, and cozy.

"Do you stay overnight here? It is fairly close to the palace," Lothril asked.

"It is close, but there are times when I simply do not wish to be at the palace or I wish to go hunting or fishing very early. And when we are married, we can use this for a quick escape. And you may come here alone if you wish," he said, handing her a key.

"Thank you," she said gratefully.

"You are welcome," he answered with a smile and a kiss. "After you asked me about my secret places at the ice festival, I decided I would show you all of them before we are married. Besides this one and the one on the lakeshore, I have one other I will show you another time."

A thought crossed her mind on what that third place might be, but she decided not to ask. However, her thoughts played across her face anyway.

"What?" Legolas asked.

"Nothing," she replied.

He studied her for a moment and said, "You are imagining what the third place is and reckoning that is where we will spend the new moon."

Lothril turned pink. "Oooh! If I didn't know better, I would swear you are hearing my thoughts!"

"I am just reading your face," he replied with a grin and gave her a kiss. Then he added with a whisper in her ear, "And I want you to keep thinking about it until we wed." Then he spoke normally again and said, "However, there is something quite unrelated I want to show you now."

Another kiss then he went over to the bed and knelt down beside it, lifting the blankets to reveal drawers built in to the bedframe. He opened the drawer and as he carefully removed a neatly folded assortment of bedding he said, "After being captured by the spiders, one of the things that helped me work through it was drawing. I nearly filled an entire sketchbook." He removed a false bottom and pulled out a sketchbook and set it on the bed. "Personal things I want to keep to myself I keep in places like this. I give you my full permission to access any of these places whenever you like. And so, if you like, you may peruse this." He handed the sketchbook to Lothril who took it over to the table and sat down.

"Are you sure?" She asked before opening it.

"Very."

She opened the notebook and on the first page was a number of little experimental sketches, but the next page nearly made her jump. With horrifying realism she was staring into the face of a vicious looking giant spider surrounded by darkness. The next page was worse as it depicted several of the horrible things descending upon the viewer. The next page was a disturbing drawing of various things wrapped in spider web and hanging about him; all of them with at least one dead eye staring at the viewer but with everything smudged and blurred like the picture was spinning, except for the eyes.

"Oh Legolas," Lothril began, but couldn't finish the sentence. She looked up at him as he sat beside her at the table. "You recovered from this?"

"Yes, I did. Keep going."

The pictures went from dark and disturbing, to violent, and somehow the violent ones were more understandable to her, as she was absolutely certain if she saw one of those things, that is exactly what her reaction would be too. After that, some of them were dark and so confusing she couldn't quite make out what was going on. Then the pictures took a very different turn. Instead of being dark, disturbing, and hopeless they started having clear bright streaks or images in them. One was shaped like a man holding a knife, slashing through the dark webbing. The second to last one showed marching white figures, pushing back the darkness as spiders fled before an elf wielding a sword of light. The last one though seemed unrelated. It was a wooded scene with rays of light shining through the leaves and at the base of the near tree, with a broad beam of light shining down upon it, was lothil blooming quietly and peacefully.

She set down the sketchbook and noticed her fingers were smudged black.

Legolas gave a quiet chuckle and said, "My apologies, this book is impossible to look at without smudging your fingers."

"It is fine, but Legolas – how?"

"I figured out how to work through it, just as you are figuring out how to sort out things for yourself. One day this time of struggle and doubt will be naught more than a memory."

"Is that really what those dreadful things look like?"

He nodded.

"I honestly do not know how you did not burn down the entire forest trying to get rid of those things," she said with a shudder.

"We love our home! And we supposed if we did do something like that they would flee to the mountains and breed there unhindered. We kept their numbers at a minimum. We also used them to gauge activity in Dol Guldor from a distance," Legolas said.

"When did you draw this last picture?" she asked.

"A fortnight after the one before it," He answered.

"How long did it take you to fill this book?"

"Two years."

She nodded. "Does it bother you to talk about it?"

"It is not a favorite topic of conversation, but I do not mind discussing it with you. I will talk about anything and everything with you, meleth nin."

"I wish… I wish I knew what to say. I think I understand some of those drawings though, but maybe for a very different reason, but…" she turned back to one of the confusing drawings that seemed mostly like blackness overwhelming the page. "I get this."

"That one was how I felt after Raven escaped. I was sick and dizzy with poison and it felt like Raven had been gone for weeks and I was starting to lose hope of rescue. How do you see it?"

"The confusion, guilt, and despair of what happened, what I was caught in. Not understanding what I was feeling or why. Not understanding why my body felt one way and my fëa another. Why and how feelings of maus and lhaew were mingled and what it might mean… that feeling of being so twisted and broken that it defied description… thinking I must have wanted it when I knew deep down I didn't, but surely I did, right? Isn't that what she told me? Isn't that what I was taught - that I was somehow responsible? Remember how I told you how Elrond saw this all in my head as a locked room? To me, this is what that locked room looked like and felt like before everything came tumbling out into the light."

"I did not feel guilt, but I think confusion and despair may feel the same regardless of the reasons why one is feeling it."

"You said it took you two years to draw all these?"

He nodded. "Sometimes I would go two or three moons between drawings, other times I would go immediately from one to the other. Healing is not always steady progress. Not everything is as predictable as recovering from a broken arm, but you are truly making great progress. How does that room look to you now?"

"Like a dark, dingy, empty bedroom from back home with old scuffed paint and dirty walls, dust everywhere, and there's a window with shut curtains that has been boarded over and the overhead light is dim and dull."

"Do you ever go in there?"

"Not if I can avoid it."

-⸙ - ⸙-

"Ah, there you two are! How convenient," Thranduil said as he saw them walking through the main hall. They looked a bit muddy and wet from the knees down, but that was only to be expected this time of year. "I have received word from Elrond that he has set out and expects to be here in four weeks."

Lothril's face lit up. "He shall? Oh, hooray! I can't wait to see him again! Who did he send as a messenger? Anyone I know?"

Thranduil put a hand up to his shoulder where a handsome little bird with a white belly, red face, and blue wings and tail sat perched. The bird happily stepped onto his proffered fingers and Lothril saw it was a little swallow.

"He sent Súlbess (wind feather) here," Thranduil answered.

This almost surprised her, but then she felt silly for assuming Elrond would send anything besides a bird. She held out her hand and the swallow happily alighted on it.

"Mae g'ovannen, Súlbess!" she greeted. Saying it triggered a memory of something she read recently. "Isn't súlbess the word that one bard used to describe reeds in the wind?"

Thranduil gave a slight nod and said, "It is." Then he mouthed, "He thinks they are named after him." Then he held a finger to his lips.

Indeed it seemed so for his little breast seemed to swell and he sang the happiest little notes. Then he turned his head to her and began chirping at her like he was trying to talk to her. She recognized the fact, but it was like listening to someone talk in Spanish or German where you hear shared words, but can't understand most of it.

"Forgive me, Súlbess, but I have not learned to speak swallow yet," she said to the bird.

Súlbess looked at Legolas who in turn looked at Lothril and said, "Súlbess says Elrond told him to tell you that he loves you and is bringing some things for you."

Súlbess ruffled his feathers and bobbed his head as if in agreement that that was indeed in the message.

"Ah, well thank you, Súlbess for bringing me that message," Lothril said to the bird. She looked at Legolas and added, "You know, if you had told me two years ago on my birthday that I would soon be talking to birds, I would have laughed."

"When is your birthday?" Thranduil asked.

"Legolas, when is my birthday?"

"Taphaen-tedui Ethuil (22nd)," he answered.

"Oh, then it is coming up soon!" Thranduil smiled.

Thranduil saw Galion coming towards him and remembered exactly why he was and said, "Súlbess, go to the bakery and get some seeds, mellon." With that the swallow took off and then said to Legolas and Lothril, "I would love to chat with you about preparations for Elrond's arrival, but Galion is coming for me, so we shall discuss them later."

He left to go talk with Galion and Legolas and Lothril headed upstairs.

"I fancy a game of darts, care to join me?"

"Actually, I have other plans. When I had lunch with Mindonith a few days ago I asked her when I should start in on the garden. She said one usually waits a little before clearing out for the winter, but as I have your mother's old garden, she said I should tear into it the first day it is reasonable out. And I reckon that is today. So, I am going to spend the bulk of the next few fine days working on that and then Mindonith and Belneth have offered to help me go from there. I reckon if I can get that overgrown briar patch turned into something halfway decent, reclaiming Ithilien ought to be a breeze!"

"Aaah! That is why you wished to return so quickly! You ought to have told me, I would have returned you sooner! I would tell you to have fun, but I am afraid even if you enjoy clearing brush and briar, it is going to be a lot of work. Do you want me to help you?" he asked.

"No, I want to clear the brush myself. This is the kind of outdoor work I enjoy," she said with a smile.

"When we told you that you could have Nane's old garden, I honestly was not sure how you would feel about it, but I am glad to see your enthusiasm."

"I am excited to try tapping into that side of my nature and figuring out gardening and making things grow. I think I will enjoy gardening in and of itself, but also as a means to an end," she said.

"And what is that end?" Legolas asked.

She was silent for a moment then said, "To make Ithilien beautiful and useful. It is a lovely place and I want it to be a place of refuge and healing after so long being a border and buffer to Mordor."

With that she hurried to her room. When she had mentioned to Estelneth she was going to clear the garden, she had supposed there wasn't enough notice to have gardening clothes made for her and when she asked Estelneth to find some work clothes and gloves, she half imagined she would be wearing a borrowed jacket and gloves with her hunting tunic and leggings. The moment she entered her bedroom Estelneth presented her with new green overalls complete with reinforced knees, pockets trimmed with a delicate flowering vine embroidery, and brass buttons that resembled flowers, and a flannel shirt that was a pretty slate blue with sleeves that could be rolled up and fastened into place.

"How, Estelneth? How? I gave you and by extension Filegon all of four days notice!" Lothril said, shaking her head with a smile.

"Trade secret," Estelneth replied with a slight smile. "The gloves though are simply borrowed from the gardeners' supplies."

"Are the gloves up here?" Lothril asked as she started to change.

"They are down by the gate with the tools."

Lothril nodded.

Once changed, she headed down to the gardens and easily found the gate leading to Lauríel's old garden. After she sailed Thranduil took one last stroll in it, then had it fenced in, locked, and let a pretty creeping ivy grow over the fence and gate. He had ordered the vine be cut away from the gate that morning, and by the time Lothril showed up, one of the royal gardeners was busy finishing up clearing away the last of the debris.

"Good morning!" she greeted.

The gardener gave a quick bow and said, "Good morning, Lady Lothril. As you can see, I am finishing clearing the ivy from the gate, but if you like, I can remove it from the rest of the fence."

"Leave it for now, Golwenion" she answered.

"Milady, this garden has been left to run wild for five hundred years and is doubtlessly in a terrible state. If you like, I will help you clear it and we can summon a couple others to help."

"I might later. I want to get a feel for things first," Lothril answered.

"The tools you shall need are in the wheelbarrow here," Golwenion said. "And good luck," he added before wheeling his barrow of debris away.

Lothril turned to the gate, fit the key in the lock, and immediately felt that the inner lock mechanisms had rusted away and the lock rusted shut. She dithered a second on what to do before deciding the lock was beyond hope of saving anyway, so she sang a couple seconds before the lock crumbled to a pile of rust dust in her hand. She brushed off her hands and opened the gate. It squealed and groaned loudly as it slowly ground open towards her. As soon as it opened Lothril went wide eyed and said, "Whoa!" She was met with a solid wall of tangled ivy mixed with some other woody vine, that upon a second glance, Lothril recognized as wild grapes. "Well, I certainly have my work cut out for me." She went over to the wheelbarrow, grabbed a machete, and started cutting away.

As she cut and cleared vines, her thoughts wandered to Ithilien. This was a trial run for when they moved. Ever since the thaw had started, she found herself thinking about Ithilien. Those spring days waiting for Frodo and Sam to awaken had been spent with Legolas and them touring the land and making ideas for what they would need to do when they moved there. Since she had returned, her winter thoughts had been consumed with getting her bearings and Thuringwen attacking her, but now she was properly settling in and her mind was turning towards Ithilien again. She wanted to make things sound and whole. She wanted to help and feel useful again. She had felt little better than an ornament since she had returned. She didn't need to run the kingdom or anything like that, but she did want to help and restoring places that had been ruined seemed like a good way for her to do it.

Ironically, she had never thought about leaving her mark on the world or her legacy when she was human, but now she did, and she wanted to leave some place nice for Aragorn's descendants and his people. Something that could be useful, fair, and healing. She had plans to leave behind gardens of medicinal plants free to anyone who needed them, along with copies of whatever healing books she could get her hands on and copy out. That way, even if in the future head healers were too silly to keep aethelas about, the old wives would be able to get their hands on what they needed.

But first, she had to learn how to garden at all, and before that she had to clear away what was starting to feel like wall-to-wall vines.

She cut back just enough to where she could actually stand and work inside the gate when she realized with the next slice of the machete she had reached the edge of the ivy covered grape vines. She cut a wide path through it and came out into the open, such as it was. It was a wood now; a wood with overgrown rose bushes that could be mistaken for trees, wild grape vines that were all in a tangle, and various vines of ivy everywhere. She could see where wildflowers grew also in profusion and were poking up through the thick carpet of old dead leaves.

"How am I going to do this?" she asked herself aloud. She headed out of the garden, brought the wheelbarrow inside, and then started to wander. Her mind started whirring with thoughts about what she wanted the garden to look like, what she might want to keep, what needed to be removed, and what needed to be ripped out. The further in she went, the darker it got, the more choked things became, the more overwhelmed and sad she felt. This had been Lauríel's garden, and up until then she had half fancied she could salvage bits of it and maybe return it to its former self, but it was becoming increasingly apparent that there was no telling what it used to look like and there was no going back.

She found a tree she reckoned she could climb and so she did so she could survey things. It had gone completely wild. On either side of this garden were well ordered ones that were simply waiting for the perfect moment to awaken and bloom. There were even some tiny green shoots to be seen in some beds, but here… The only thing she was tempted to save were the trees, and even at that, she felt torn about it. She had been entertaining the idea of a flowering orchard, but the presence of the beeches and oaks sort of ruined that.

No, no, that ruined nothing. Thranduil told her this was her garden now and she could do whatever she wanted, and she wanted a flowering orchard and a rose covered trellis, and honeysuckle, and lavender, and hyacinth lined pathways and lothil and lily of the valley and a herb garden. And clearly that meant everything must go!

She jumped down out of the tree and began to work on the mass of vines by the gate. It was hard and tedious work, but not terribly thoughtful, so her mind began to wander in thought again as she cut, pulled, and tossed aside vines. The last while, almost since Turuhalmë, she had been dealing with an ever-growing feeling of frustration. She could show Legolas affection, she could do it in front of people, sorta. She didn't feel guilty anymore (thank heavens!), she was figuring out how to tell him what she wanted or liked or didn't, and every damn time she started enjoying herself her mind would run away and start trying to distract itself from what she was physically feeling and her emotions were torn between wanting to turn off, panic, and, or arousal. She knew this is the very thing Elrond had wanted her to work on most, but it seemed to be the hardest thing.

She had been working on pulling up the roots of one of the grapevines when it gave way and knocked her on her backside, dirt flying everywhere and leaving her speckled. Frustrated at herself she flung down the root and stood up and then flung it onto the pile, which was getting quite large so she lit it on fire. The ashes would be good for the soil anyway.

She turned around and looked back at where she had been working. The morning was gone and it was past lunch and she had all of fifteen feet cleared of debris. There were still leaves, weeds, and sticks to contend with, but the mass of vines was now about half gone. So a good amount of progress, but a lot more work to do. It had occurred to her early on she could potentially just disintegrate everything but… no; she needed to do it the long way or not at all. There were no shortcuts. Not really.

For the rest of the afternoon she worked and on into the evening. Around twilight she decided it was time to quit for the night. The fire was still going but she figured if she didn't add to it, it would burn out in a little while. So she waited. She waited with a big long stick that she used to poke the fire a bit and make sure everything was burning down.

It had been a long day. It had been a lot of hard work. Except for starting the fire, she hadn't used one inch of her powers all day. It was all done with her own two hands which were now blistered and bleeding a little as the work gloves had been a little small and she hadn't felt like venturing out to find better fitting ones so she didn't wear any. She didn't care. It felt good in a way, to hurt like that. It was a good honest feeling born out of hard work, and was gloriously uncomplicated. She liked uncomplicated. Why couldn't have Matilda just hit her? Yes, she would have had a black eye, but then she would have had a black eye, Matilda would have been stopped, and she could have moved on with her life. She thought she had moved on with her life, then she realized she hadn't. Then she fell in love and learned she was broken. No, not broken, dysfunctional. That might be worse…

She stared into the flames and felt restless and like her hands were tied. She couldn't do more in the garden now, it was too dark. She couldn't do anything about how she felt, so she just had to wait. She turned her mind to future plans of the garden and how it looked from up in that tree. She had been hoping to salvage at least some of Lauríel's garden, but no, it was way too far gone. No going back to what it was.

She was a child when it all started. She had never known normal.

She had never known the original garden. She would never know what it used to look like.

She would never know what she could have been like.

She couldn't keep the trees and have the garden she wanted.

She felt him then heard the gate squeal open. She felt him draw near and slide his hand around her waist.

"You missed supper," he said quietly.

"I was working and the fire was burning," she answered simply.

"I can see." He looked around at the gate wall and said, "I am sure I cannot imagine just how much bracken you removed, save that we have been able to see the smoke since midday. This garden looks more like a wood now than the garden Nane had. Are you going to keep any of the trees?"

"No," she said definitively. "Everything is going to go."

Something in the way she said it sounded off to him. He took her hand and it felt off too. He turned her palms up and said, "You are bleeding. Your hands are torn and blistered. Did you not have gloves?"

"They were too small and I didn't feel like stopping to find more. It's fine. I will heal."

Legolas grabbed a shovel out of the wheelbarrow and put the fire out.

"Come with me and let me tend you," he said.

"It's fine. I can take care of it myself," she replied reassuringly.

"I know you can, perainur nin, but it is easier to have help, even for one such as you," he replied.

They didn't talk much as they headed back, and he led her straight to her room and into the bathroom where he left her with Estelneth, who had insisted on staying on call until Lothril returned.

"Milady! What happened to the gloves?" Estelneth asked upon seeing Lothril's hands.

"Oh, they were too small and I did not feel like stopping and looking for more. It's fine. These blisters can join my swordplay and archery callouses."

"I will make sure you have properly fitting gloves tomorrow," Estelneth said.

Lothril was going to reassure her it was fine then realized there was no point so said, "Thank you, Estelneth." She slipped out of her grubby work clothes and into the bath that was awaiting her, while Estelneth fetched her a clean outfit. When she came back Lothril asked, "There is no going backwards, is there?"

"Unless you mean walking backwards, no. I have seen many springs, but I have never seen the same leaf twice."

Lothril nodded. "I reckon not. What is that you are adding in?" she asked as she watched Estelneth pour in a couple more drops of bath oil.

"This is a request of Prince Legolas," Estelneth answered.

Lothril raised a brow. "So many questions… Can I see that?"

Estelneth handed it over before taking up her customary spot behind Lothril to start unbraiding and washing her hair. Lothril looked at the unmarked bottle, uncorked it, and took a sniff.

"When did he tell you to add this to my bath?"

"Before he went to fetch you from the garden."

She put a finger over the opening and quickly tipped the bottle upside down then back upright and felt the oil between her fingers and gave it another sniff. "That sneaky little… "

"Milady?"

"This is a tincture for sore muscles mixed with a scented oil. Does he do this kind of thing often and I just did not notice?"

"Fairly often. Usually after your sparring and riding days. His standing order is to add something on those days for your muscles if you forget to ask," Estelneth answered.

"My word…"

"He gets it from his father. The king doted on the queen endlessly, and usually he would do things himself and only ask me to fetch things for him. Even publically he would dote on her and do things for her, even things like fill her wine cup. The joke amongst the servants was that no one served the queen more faithfully than the king. The prince seems to be following suit."

"Oh, he is," Lothril replied with a smile before sinking into the water a little more.

After her bath as she was drying off and Estelneth was waiting outside the screen to dry and comb her hair.

"Estelneth, if I ask you a question, will you be honest with me?"

"Of course, milady."

"What do the servants think of Legolas and I sharing a bed?"

"Mostly they are confused," she answered.

That was not the answer Lothril expected. "Confused?"

"I will tell you an open secret – most betrothed elves contrive at least a handful of nights in the same bed during the course of a betrothal. We tend to try timing visits when we think a bad storm is coming if we are betrothed young. If we are older we are more open about it because it is obvious if we wed or not, but it is still more or less seldom as we have trades we work and get busy."

"So why is everyone confused?"

"That you keep waiting to ring until he is gone. If I have heard it once, I have heard it a dozen times that the prince ought to have Alphon bring his things to your room in the mornings," Estelneth replied.

"Oh. I suppose I am still just getting used to things. Back home if anyone had found out we slept in the same room by ourselves I would have been in so much trouble… but obviously not here," Lothril said and came out from behind the screen.

"Milady, you asked and so I answered, but you are free to conduct yourself in whatever way you wish. Goodness knows the rest of the royal family certainly has their own eccentricities. But then again, I suppose we all do. However, if you are going to run your life based on the opinion of servants, you are going to drive yourself mad."

"Oh, it is more me trying to get a feel for normalcy around here. I realize living with the royal family is not going to allow complete normalcy, but I would like to have some sense of it," Lothril replied.

"In that case, definitely do not base your decisions on the opinions of servants," Estelneth said. "Would you like me to braid your hair?"

"Yes, please! I want it wavy come morning. Umm… Estelneth?"

"Yes, milady?"

"It wouldn't bother you if I summoned you before he left in the morning, would it? And you can be honest."

"Lady Lothril, I used to serve the queen. There is naught you two could possibly do that would bother me; and I am done with your braids. It's there anything else, milady?"

"Supper, if Legolas didn't ring for it already. Other than that, I ought to be set."

"Oh, I just remembered I have not filled your water pitcher for the night."

"And now that you said that, can you get me things for tea if Legolas didn't ring for that also?"

"Certainly, milady."

Estelneth left the bathroom to see to things and Lothril donned her house coat and low key wished it was a sweat shirt. Of all the dumb things, why didn't she bring one of those back?

"I ordered supper be sent up for you," Legolas said.

"Thank you, melethron!" She replied.

He took her over to the couch beside the fireplace.

"It will be a little bit yet. Let me see your hands," he said. She laid her hands in his. "Mercy, Lothril, your hands are far more torn up than I thought."

"There were some thorns mixed in with the vines," she replied.

He began putting a balm on her hand. It smelled like aethelas and marigold* and felt pleasantly cool on her broken and blistered hands. She shuddered slightly at his touch.

"Does it sting?" he asked as he continued to gently apply the balm.

"No, it feels nice," she replied with a coy little smile. "Very nice. I like your touch, you know."

He smiled. "I have long suspected such,"

"I like your kisses too."

He leaned in and gave her a quick kiss. "Like that?"

"More like this," she answered before giving him a long kiss.

He looked surprised. "You are in a strange mood this evening. You seemed so melancholy in the garden."

"I was, I suppose. This morning I had entertained notions of maybe restoring your mother's garden, or rather parts of it, but I realized fairly quickly there was no hope of that. I had a lot of time to think tearing out all those vines. For a long while now I have been looking backwards and thinking I could go back to how I was, or rather should have been, before Matilda got to me, but I realized that thinking is foolishness. I was a child; I cannot go back to that. I cannot undo the damage. I honestly am not even sure how I would have been without her, given how I was taught, and I really cannot imagine how I would have been if I had been born here. All I can do is tear out dead vines and choking bramble and plant new." She took a deep breath. "In a way it is a liberating thought."

He smiled as he began to wrap some cloth around her hands. "Very liberating, I should think."

"Hold on, we do not need to wrap my hands," she said then started to sing.

He interrupted her saying, "May I?"

"If you like," she replied, surprised.

He smiled as he gently took one of her hands between both of his. "I am not a healer, but I can do a few things." He began to sing and though she did not recognize the specific song, she could tell he was drawing upon himself and not her. She closed her eyes and let herself enjoy the sensation. The feel of his hands surrounding hers, the sensation of his fëa drawing nearer to hers, almost being able to feel it… like the sensation of a steady running river flowing over her. Still singing he released her one hand and moved onto the other. She could feel her other hand was healed also as the stinging sensation was gone. He resumed holding her other hand and changed the song. It wasn't one she recognized, but she liked the feeling of lightness it gave her, like she was floating down a lazy river. She felt him gently lay her down with her head on his lap and start massaging her arm and shoulder.

He was so happy she let him do this! He definitely was not a healer, but that didn't mean he didn't know a few things and that Taraves hadn't taught him a few more. Judging by the relaxed look on her face, he was doing a good job. She felt utterly relaxed and unguarded. Oh, how he loved it when she yielded to him. Her arms were dead weight in his hands and she looked so utterly peaceful as he tended her.

He was massaging her hand when she opened her eyes and looked up at him. "Thank you," she said with an easy smile.

"It is my pleasure, melethril." There was a single knock on the bedroom door and before she could stir he told her he would get it for her and to stay there resting.

She did love how he doted on her. It made her feel so loved and adored! She basked in the liberating feeling of being able to shape herself and the garden in the way that was best for each. The garden was starting to take shape in her mind and the sort of person she wanted to be. Growing up she never, in her wildest dreams, figured she would marry a prince. What she did figure is she would grow up, get married, and step into the role of wife and mother with maybe a part time side gig once the kids were in school. She never dreamed she would or could so actively shape her own life and do crazy things like pursue interests without making them a career. Granted, she still wanted to be a wife and mother, well, she could wait a little on the motherhood thing, but here she was – about to be a princess, able to help shape the foreseeable future of Ithilien, help beautify Minas Tirith, do things that may last multiple lives of men… It was kind of exciting… and a little intimidating…

And just as that thought went through her head, Legolas came back in and it didn't feel so intimidating anymore.

"Such a lovely smile on your face! What fair thought has caused it?" he asked as he set down her supper.

"You."

His face lit up as he arranged things. "Me? That makes me very glad!"

"Good, for you make me glad. As does the wonderful smell coming from that tray! What is for supper?"

"Meatloaf and baked potatoes and onions," he answered.

"Meatloaf? Oh yum! Is this another one you brought back or has it just not come up on the menu before?"

"It is one I brought back, and you ought to have seen my father's face!" Legolas said with a grin.

"Did he like it?"

"He loved it! His eyes kept rolling up into his head as he moaned and sighed his way through supper and he immediately ordered the kitchen add it to the regular rotation of meals," Legolas replied.

Lothril decided to settle down on the floor and eat at the coffee table. She did this every so often and Legolas always thought it was silly but endearing.

"Tell me truly, Legolas Thranduilion, did you bring back the recipes you did you bring back the assortment of recipes you did for my sake or to alternately annoy and elate your father?"

"Truthfully – both. I knew he would not like tacos, though I was not sure what he would think about meatloaf," he answered with a grin, though she couldn't see it as he sat behind her on the couch. "But don't you dare tell Ada!"

"Whatever little games you and your father have are your business. I shan't get in the way!"

-⸙ - ⸙-

A/N: *specifically calendula (calendula officinalis) or 'pot marigold' as that is the healing variety that is good for wounds and inflammation. Because I have delved into herbal and homeopathic medicine for this story. Because I am dedicated to detail, apparently.