Thank you to my wonderful beta, Anar.

Also to Spiced Wine for lending me the very gorgeous Tindómion.

Chapter 41:Restoration

As it was, Gimli never got to Bearos' house for as he was about to leave, the door to Legolas' room was flung open. Elrohir thrust his head out and looked about wildly. He caught sight of Gimli and breathed a sigh of relief.

'I thought you might have gone,' he said urgently. 'He is asking for you.'

Immediately Gimli scrambled to his feet feeling an absurd pleasure that Legolas was asking for him.

Inside the room, it was quiet and the fragrance of athelas suffused the air. Gimli wondered if they used it for everything now in these Houses since Aragorn had arrived. The windows were wide open and the night sky was crowded with stars. On the bed, Legolas lay beneath a pile of blankets, his head turned towards the window and Gimli thought he must be drinking in the night air and the sight of the stars, having been stuck in that dark underground cell for so long.

There were two brown-robed healers bustling about, one dropping bloody bandages into a bucket and the other was folding clean linens that had not been used. Nearby, Elladan and Elrohir were busy, talking quietly and moving things around on a narrow table that was on wheels so it could be moved about and closer to patients when needed. Their backs were to Gimli so he could not see what they were doing but he heard the clink of metal implements and their quiet, urgent voices, though they spoke in Sindarin and he could not follow.

Elladan glanced over his shoulder though, and when he saw Gimli he nodded to the Dwarf and switched to Westron. '…this is the best they could pull together. Not sophisticated but it will serve.'

Gimli pulled a chair up to the bed and Legolas' face turned slowly towards him, eyes half-closed and his face deathly white. He was trembling uncontrollably and every now and again a spasm took him and his whole body clenched.

But a smile touched his bruised mouth and he opened his lips slightly as if he might speak but no words came. Gimli leaned towards him, tears blinding him for a moment. He took Legolas' hand, pulling up the blankets and tucking him in more warmly.

'Hush, silly Elf. Don't speak. Let me get you water.'

One of the healers passed him a cup and poured water into it, smiling as he did. Gimli nodded his thanks courteously and turned to Legolas.

He had to lift Legolas' head and hold the cup to his lips and water dribbled down the side of his mouth. The other healer quickly leaned in and dabbed gently at Legolas' mouth, for he was so very weak from blood loss. But at least he was swathed now in bandages and there was no blood spotting the new ones.

'Have you stopped the bleeding?' he asked and the healer sighed and looked distressed.

'We have, but only just. He has lost a lot of blood…' He glanced at the brothers who still had their backs to them. 'They have magic healing,' he said, awed.

Gimli thought it was less magical and more scientific for he had observed them on board the Sea Song when they had stitched up Legolas last time. But he said nothing. He wanted them to concentrate on Legolas. The healers picked up their buckets and clean cloths, and bowing, left.

Another spasm shook Legolas and Gimli held him, soothed him until it passed. His teeth were chattering. Fear made Gimli unreasonable and he turned his head and growled, 'Here, are you two going to do anything or are you faffing about over there all day?'

'Peace, Gimli. We are coming,' said Elladan softly.

Gimli swallowed hard and turned back to Legolas.

'You have got to stop going off without me, Legolas,' Gimli scolded fearfully. 'Every time you do, something bad happens. Look at Phellanthir, when you went off into the Tower on your own. And then when you went off onto the Mindolluin,' he said more quietly with a quick, nervous look over his shoulder at Elrohir, for Elrohir had gone with Legolas at Gandalf's behest (and Gimli still had not completely forgiven the Wizard for that particular idea.) 'And what about when you left my side at the Morannon? What happened there?' He tutted. 'And now, off you go in search of the Ghoul and not telling anyone where you'd gone. There is a pattern here, Legolas. You should have waited for me to come back.'

Legolas closed his eyes slowly, but smiled. His hand squeezed Gimli's but so weakly it frightened Gimli.

'I was worried to death you know.' He pulled the blankets up higher and glanced again towards the brothers, wishing that whatever they were doing, they would hurry. By rights Legolas should have been boiling hot with all the blankets but he felt so cold.

They were turning, now, talking softly and adjusting things on the trolley. Elrohir rolled it towards Gimli and onto the other side of the bed. There was a strange contraption on the trolley; a tube that ran from a glass, with something Gimli recognised as a pump in the middle, with a silver cup. At either end was a fine needle.

'Talk to him, Gimli,' said Elladan. 'Keep him calm and steady.' Elladan positioned himself one side of the trolley and Elrohir pulled up a chair on the other side and close to Legolas.

Gimli turned obediently and leaned towards Legolas. 'I have much to tell you since you traipsed off on your jaunt without me,' he began. 'Gandalf and I went to Umbar. You would have enjoyed it…' He rambled on, keeping one eye on what the Elves were doing and one eye on Legolas, who seemed calmer with Gimli's deep voice rumbling.

Elladan looked carefully over the contraption, picking up each part and testing it. He pushed the needle more firmly onto the tubing and fiddled about with each part until he seemed satisfied. 'I think we have done the best we can, given they have nothing here,' he said to Elrohir. 'When this is over, we must look at equipping their healing wards properly and teaching them. None of them had ever heard of this.'

Elrohir merely grunted and was rolling up the sleeve of his shirt.

Gimli realised he had stopped talking to Legolas and was too busy watching Elrohir. 'Anyway, we arrived in Umbar,' he began again, guiltily. 'Gandalf was disguised as a sailor and had this…rolling walk,' he remembered. 'It is a strange place. Full of exotic scents, pipeweed like you have never seen, great swathes of silks rolled up and stacked in market stalls, herbs I have never seen before and the noise of a hundred different languages. It was exciting I admit, Legolas. We will go there sometime.'

'You speak of the Aït ben Hazsrou,' Elladan said, swabbing Legolas' skin on the underside of his forearm. 'It is vast, and as you say, exotic. Full of strange things.'

He glanced over to his brother. 'Are you ready for this? You should rest really and I give.'

Elrohir nodded briefly. 'I am not as skilled as you. And I have never used such….basic equipment,' he gestured to the contraption. 'Just begin,' he said tersely.

Elladan glanced at Gimli and then back to the contraption. He picked up the needle, looked at it, pushed it again firmly into the tubing and then tapped Legolas' arm where the vein was. Then he inserted the needle into Legolas' vein. Gimli gasped silently but said nothing for he trusted they knew what they did. Elrohir reached over and steadied the needle in Legolas' vein.

Elladan then steadied the pump and cup part of the contraption and inserted the other needle into his own brother's arm. Elrohir did not even flinch.

'Gimli, would you assist?' Elladan asked and Gimli shuffled forwards and took hold of the cup that Elladan handed him. 'Please, just steady this and make sure it is well above Legolas' arm. The blood will pass through the cup and tubing and then into his vein.' Gimli nodded and looked with interest at the device. Elladan turned back to his brother, slight concern edged his lips. 'We cannot wash the blood for there is no mechanism here to do that, but I hope that your blood is pure enough to help him and rich enough to replenish him as he needs. There were no issues with Saeldir or Annael when we did this.'

Elrohir nodded briefly. 'Take as much as he needs.'

Elladan pressed his lips together. 'I will take what I can. You are already exhausted.'

'Take what he needs, Elladan. You have no idea!' Elrohir snapped back but he did not say what it was that he thought Elladan did not understand, and Elladan did not ask.

'Calm, brother,' said Elladan and looked gently upon Elrohir. 'We want a low pressure, not a racing pulse.' And that seemed to have the desired effect for Elrohir breathed in and then let out a long sigh and he said no more.

Gimli watched avidly. He had heard of this from Ori, who was much travelled and had seen this blood-giving in the Havens. But Ori had been vague about the mechanism, much to Gimli's annoyance. Now he scrutinised the device and how it worked, storing away the design for his return home.

Fascinated, he watched the blood being drawn from Elrohir's veins by the pump and transfused into Legolas'. For a long time, deep red blood pumped slowly from one Elf to the other and a silence descended on the room. Every now and again, Elladan checked first on Elrohir and then on Legolas.

Gimli noticed a subtle difference in Legolas as the blood pumped from Elrohir to Legolas but at last Elladan took the cup from Gimli.

'That is enough,' he said but Elrohir shook his head.

'I can give more,' he said.

'Legolas cannot take much more right now,' said Elladan. 'And I want to see if there is a positive reaction before continuing.' With certainty he took the needle first from Elrohir's veins. 'I know we have done this successfully before in Imladris, but we do not know how Legolas will react.' He carefully bound the small incision. 'Let us observe and try again in an hour or so…Perhaps Glorfindel will have returned and we can use him too.'

He was looking down and so did not see the expression on Elrohir's face; devastation, contempt, disgust. And Gimli wondered if it were for himself for he had only ever seen respect and affection between Elrohir and Glorfindel.

Elrohir was a mire of conflicted heroism and self-sacrifice, thought Gimli, as well as violence and unforgiving hatred. And he was not always rational or fair. Perhaps that extended to himself as well as others?

The Dwarf stroked his beard, and then found his fingers tangling it into a knot as he worried: when the Grey Company*, searching for Aragorn, had found them that night in Rohan, Elrohir had shown nothing but contempt for Legolas, and his antipathy had exploded into violence on the pier at Pelargir.

Gimli pulled at the knots in his beard. Elrohir's violent dislike had lasted until Legolas was brought back down from the Mindolluin and been almost lost. Only then did Elrohir's attitude change.

Perhaps he had seen then the sacrifice that Legolas was willing to make for the Fellowship, to ensure that Frodo and Sam crept unseen and undetected into Mordor? Gimli thought. He let his gaze drift down to his friend's face, soft in a proper slumber now. At last. Legolas' hand rested gently on the blankets and Gimli touched those strong fingers gently for fear of waking him. Not strong like his own hand, which was square and shaped for the forge. But strong enough to pull a hundred pound draw of the great bow of Lorien. And Gimli did not know many who could do that with the ease that Legolas did.

Elladan stood over the trolley now, pulling apart the contraption and putting the soiled tubes and cups into a silver basin. His brother still sat beside Legolas, his eyes fixed upon the Elf's face as he slept.

Gimli rubbed his eyes. It was true that Elrohir had sacrificed himself without thought at the battle of the Morannon, and had taken the dreadful Black Web to himself in order to spare Legolas. There was no doubt now, in Gimli's mind, that Elrohir would have laid down his life if it had been necessary to save Legolas this time.

But the devoted adoration that was in Elrohir's eyes now was as extreme as his contempt, thought Gimli, watching him surreptitiously. It made Gimli wary for he thought that Elrohir would be a jealous and possessive lover… And Legolas was not.

In fact, Legolas had been prolific and indulgent in his love affairs throughout the quest, thought Gimli anxiously. He found the ends of his beard in his mouth. He really hoped that Haldir would not be in the wedding party from Lothlorien. Or his brothers. And that Berensul was not in the party from Rivendell. It was bad enough that Tindómion was here and Eomer would be returning for the wedding too.

Elladan leaned over and checked Legolas' pulse, lifted his eyelids, scrutinised him carefully.

'How is he?' Elrohir asked and his voice sounded weary now.

Elladan sighed and shook his head. 'He lost so much…'

'Then take more!' Elrohir cried and he ripped the binding from his arm but Elladan placed his hand on Elrohir's shoulder.

'I have said, we will wait. And you must rest. Eat, sleep and then we can try more. He is better than he was before the Tarnasercë, brother. He will not die now; his pulse is weak but more regular now and his signs are improving.' He looked at Elrohir. 'Whatever you say, I will not take more and put you at risk.' He was already gently sliding the needle from Legolas' arm as he already had from his brother. And indeed, Gimli thought Legolas looked healthier already and he had stopped the dreadful trembling and spasming of his limbs, although his teeth chattered a little.

Gimli pulled up the blankets again and patted Legolas' hand. He called upon the warmth he used in the forge, to smooth iron and steel like silk, let it suffuse his hands that he cradled Legolas' within. Unexpectedly he felt a slight squeeze from Legolas' cold fingers.

Elrohir's eyes were fastened upon Legolas' face, scrutinizing him for any sign, every movement.

There was a quiet flurry of voices outside the chamber door and a healer opened it slightly. 'My lords, one of the lords Perianath is without and asking if he might enter.' The woman smiled. 'Says he is returning a favour.'

'That will be Sam,' Gimli said, half rising but Elladan patted his shoulder and pushed him back into the chair, and was already moving towards the door.

Outside stood Sam, clutching in his hand a bunch of cheerful wildflowers. It cheered Gimli's heart to see the Hobbit's round little face and his earnest and concerned eyes that alit upon Legolas' still form.

'Hello Gimli,' Sam said. He hurried to Legolas' bedside and ducked his head shyly at Elrohir. 'Will he be all right? Did you find him in time?'

'I hope so, master Samwise,' Elladan said, wiping his hands on a towel. He pushed his hair out of his eyes and leaned over Legolas, lifting his hand and feeling the pulse at his wrist. 'He seems to be stronger. We will wait for a while and then give him more blood.' He glanced over at his brother briefly. 'There are several of us who can do this now,' he said emphatically. 'But I want to see how Legolas responds first.'

Sam looked around the room, his face anxious until Gimli realised he was looking for something to put his flowers into. The Dwarf grabbed a glass container from a nearby shelf and filled it with water from the jug at Legolas' side. 'Here. Put them in here.'

Sam fussed over the flowers and placed them carefully. 'I want them to be the first thing he sees when he wakes up,' he said softly and Gimli remembered how Legolas had done the same every morning so that Sam's heart would be gladdened. The dwarf felt a tear prick his eye and rubbed his nose surreptitiously and berated himself for being a sentimental fool.

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Elladan wiped his forehead on his sleeve and blinked. He was tired. Too much had happened over the last few days: he had performed two significant operations upon two he cared for, Aragorn and Legolas. But both were healing well, he thought.

He glanced over towards the bed where Legolas now lay sleeping peacefully, no longer twitching and spasming, and there was a soft flush of sleep on his cheek. Elrohir still sat slumped in the chair. Gimli had gone, returning with Sam to see the rest of the Fellowship and share the news, Elladan supposed.

He watched his brother for a moment; Elrohir's long legs were stretched out and crossed at the ankle. His head had dropped forward so his chin was almost on his chest. Candlelight gleamed on his long black hair and threw his cheekbones into sharp relief. It made him look thinner, drawn almost. For a moment, Elladan was acutely aware that his skin merely covered the skull, it draped over the jawbone, the cheeks, nose, stretched over the eye sockets. It made Elrohir skeletal for a horrid moment and brought a cold shiver to Elladan's own skin.

He stepped back suddenly and blinked. No. It had been the light, an illusion only. There was his beloved brother, who had again risked his own life, without thought or care, for Legolas. His hand was clasped protectively over Legolas' and in their sleep they clung to each other.

A strange longing crept over Elladan then. There was no one about whom he felt that deep devotion, whom he would so thoughtlessly sacrifice himself, he thought.

No, that was not true, he recognised. He had done this for Elrohir. But he is my brother, my twin. They had done as much for each other time and time again. He had risked himself for Erestor in Phellanthir, he mused. Indeed, risked far more than only his life. But that is Erestor, he told himself as if that answered everything. That was merely standing between a friend and danger, he thought. He had done that many times.

What was different, newly discovered for Elrohir, was the absolute certainty, the belief that Legolas must continue, even though Elrohir might cease.

As you did for Erestor in Phellanthir, something suggested itself to him. Indeed you risked far more than your life. You took a Morgul blade that could have cut your soul from your body…Why might that have been?

Elladan blinked. It was like another voice in his head. But there was no one. Just Legolas, who was deeply sleeping at last. And Elrohir.

Elrohir stirred slightly and one eye opened sleepily, strayed to Legolas and then drifted into peace again. Their love was tender and deep, thought Elladan and he had never thought Elrohir would find the other half of his soul. At least, not before Elladan himself.

He felt a sudden loneliness and looked away. He thought about Imrahil, took out the memory of that night they had first lain together:

…Imrahil had tossed back the last of his wine while he looked admiringly, appreciatively at Elladan. 'You are the most beautiful man I have ever seen.'

Elladan had not quite known what to say; he was not used to thinking of himself like that. Healer, warrior, lore-master. But not beautiful. He had lifted his hand and stroked back Imrahil's hair wondering what he should say in return but he did not need to for Imrahil had borne down upon him then and pressed his mouth against Elladan's, pushed his tongue in so he thought he would faint and let his hands catch at Elladan's balls, his cock, squeeze and twist and pump until he had arched and lifted himself from the bed in anguished desire.

'You are tense, my beautiful warrior.' Imrahil had stilled his hand and leaned over Elladan's back, breathed over his neck so a shiver went down his spine. His hands had gentled and he had pushed Elladan's legs apart with his knee and stroked his balls from behind.

A lovely thrill of desire shot through Elladan now as he stood remembering and he glanced quickly about himself in case anyone observed how he had stiffened at the memory. And then the spike of desire that had followed Imrahil's words, whispered huskily into Elladan's neck: 'I will be gentle, I promise…but next time I will devour you.'

They had not been frequent lovers, but enough to be easy in each other's company, to laugh together and share a cup of wine in the glow of satiation.

Elladan dwelled upon Imrahil for a moment, and thought he missed the Prince's company, and the hardness of his body too. But it was not the same as Elrohir had with Legolas. He knew that.

But perhaps it is merely time, he thought. Perhaps if I had more time with Imrahil, I will find the other part of me.

He opened the door and left the room, the heaviness in his heart not lifted, for if Imrahil were indeed his other half, he would have to take the Gift of Men and be forever sundered from those he loved….

With a sigh, Elladan closed the door softly. Ahead of him the clear, wide corridors of the Houses of Healing opened. On one side the large windows looked over a courtyard, a tree in the centre was spreading its leaves over the fountain that played. It was cool in here, and quiet. A woman, clad in the brown robes of a healer, walked silently past, nodding at him as she passed.

At that moment, a door opened and to Elladan's surprise, Tindómion came out, laughing to himself.

'Istel!' Elladan exclaimed. Tindómion looked up and smiled.

'Erestor is incorrigible,' he said and clasped Elladan's shoulder. But Elladan felt a surge of fear.

'Erestor. He is injured?'

'Barely,' Tindómion said with a quick smile. He jerked his head towards the door. 'They cannot keep him in there much longer. I will wager he follows me out of there in …' He paused and counted, 'Four, Three, Two, One…'

At that the door burst open and Erestor strode forth, he was looking back over his shoulder to where a bundle of anxious healers fluttered. 'I thank you. Imladris thanks you.' He bowed with a flourish of lace sleeves and velvet. 'The King thanks you. Gondor thanks you!'

Elladan could imagine the wolfish grin on Erestor's face as he bowed and indeed, as Erestor turned, his teeth were bared in a terrifying smile and his eyes glinted amber.

'Very fearsome,' Elladan said drily. And all the emptiness of his heart was filled and the yearning and loneliness gone. He clapped his two friends on their shoulders. 'I am surprised they wanted to keep you. I should have driven you out of the door with a broom.'

"Haven't you forgotten something?' Tindómion asked with a sly smile. Erestor paused for a moment and then dived back into the room. Elladan looked questioningly at Tindómion. 'You'll see,' the Feänorian promised wryly.

Erestor returned, swinging an old hessian sack that was stained and had something heavy and round at the bottom of it. 'Come then children. Let us find our friend, Laurëlindë.' He led them along the wide, cool passage that ran along the garden of Healing.

Elladan grimaced. 'That's the head, isn't it?' He looked at it, mixture of disapproval, revulsion.

'It is a gift,' Erestor said annoyingly and Tindómion snorted. They had arrived at the top of a wide sweeping staircase that wound to the ground floor. Two healers stood aside to allow them to pass and Elladan nodded greeting to them, for one had assisted him with Aragorn.

'That was once a Man,' Elladan said softly, indicating the sack, and Erestor nodded.

'You are just trying to annoy him,' Tindómion said acerbically with a touch of disapproval.

'On the contrary. There is a reason for this.' Erestor swung the sack as he walked. Elladan moved a little away so he would not brush against it by accident and instantly Erestor stopped swinging it. 'It has to be buried away from the body. Indeed, it should probably be burned and the body. We cannot take a risk with such evil sorcery as this.'

'But still you will use it to annoy and vex him.' Tindómion glanced at Erestor.

Erestor shrugged. 'It is the basis of our affection. He is prim, I am annoying. His primness annoys me. My carelessness annoys him.'

Elladan smiled. 'Glorfindel prim?' He laughed. 'I have never thought of him as being prim.'

'Oh yes,' Erestor grinned mischievously. 'And very easily shocked. And stuck up. You should have seen him when he descended from Gondolin to muck in with my lords of Himring and the Gap. He could hardly bear the mud on his boots.'

Elladan laughed out loud then, knowing that Erestor was merely teasing. He felt all the sadness and emptiness flow out of him and instead there was light and joy in his heart. As the doors to the Houses of Healing were opened for them, he lifted his face up to the starlit sky and the cool night air. He did not see the expression on Erestor's face, the pain and longing that had not gone from his heart even if it had gone from Elladan's.

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