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Trust	By : squirrelchaser Category: -Multi-Age > General Views: 2887 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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�Elrond!�
A
cry of urgency roused me from my chair.
�Elrond,�
Glorfindel skidded to a stop in the doorway, his clothes damp, his eyes wide and concerned. �A party, from Mirkwood, has
just arrived. They have one who is sick.� He caught my arm as I came from the
room and murmured low in my ear, �Thranduil is with them. It is Legolas.�
At
the news of Legolas, Erestor�s head snapped to
attention. His eyes darted from me to Glorfindel, back to me, and Glorfindel
gave a slight shake of his head, which failed to be surreptitious.
Ignoring
their exchange, I tugged at Glorfindel�s arm and
quickened my pace, and was led to the same set of chambers that Legolas had
occupied the first time he had come here.
Thranduil
stood outside, dripping wet, with anxiety making him look very frightened
though he drew himself up tall. �Legolas would have no other,� he said urgently
when I came into sight, looking and sounding too
anxious even for a greeting.
Glancing
through the door I saw a bedraggled form lying prone on the bed, curled into fetal
position with his back to the two of us. Taking Thranduil by the arm I welcomed
him calmly, stepped into the chamber and closed the door, kneeling beside
Legolas. �Tell me what happened,� I said to Thranduil.
�No.�
Both
Thranduil and I started as if the whisper from the bed had been a shout.
�Adar, please. Leave us alone.�
Thranduil
looked slightly hurt but retreated to the door, explaining, �We found him two
nights ago, and he refused to be touched unless we would take him to you. He
would not tell us anything.� The elf king�s blue eyes were wide and entreating.
�I beg you�� his voice trailed off.
I
knew what he begged, how he loved his son, and in that moment my unfounded
dislike for Thranduil gave way just a little. I gave a silent promise with a nod
of my head, and shut and latched the door.
The
storm was lessening outside.
�Legolas,�
I said gently, going over to the bed and touching his shoulder. �May I look at
you?�
His
eyes were closed as if feigning sleep, but he complied with my request and rolled
to his back. His face was swollen, bruised, and cut, his hair and face matted
with mud as if he had been pressed into the earth. He said nothing, going limp
as I peeled back the sodden blanket he clutched around his shoulders.
Around
his neck was a circlet of bruising, two dark thumb prints standing out in
horrid relief at the soft part just at the hollow between the collar bones. His
wrists were cut and bruised, his chest and stomach littered with cuts and
bruises.
�Legolas,�
I whispered, voice catching. �What have they done to you?� Legolas whimpered
and I wished I could take my words back. I tugged at the tie of his leggings
and Legolas winced. �Shh,� I soothed. �I need to make
sure you are unharmed.�
He
went limp again.
The
leggings slowly came away, revealing more bruising around his hips and down his
thighs. For the first time I saw blood in earnest, coating the inside of his
legs.
Oh
sweet Elbereth, I realized, drawing my breath in
sharply. �Legolas,� I said gently, taking hold of one hip and shoulder. �I will
turn you to your side now.�
The
long legs shifted at my prompting as I rolled him to his side, and there was no
doubt now. Dazed, I reached out and touch the cleft at the base of his spine,
coating my fingertips in the crimson that emanated from his body. �Legolas,� I
murmured, rubbing my fingers before my face in disbelief as my hand started to
tremble.
For
long minutes there was silence, and my hand fell on his hip.
�Bathe
me,� he whispered at last. �I feel filthy; like they are still touching me.�
In
the adjoining bath I lowered him into the tub, soaping his hair, then his body,
as gently as I could. Lastly I lathered my hands and swirled the foam over the
contours of his face, noticing for the first time the darkness of his eyelashes
and the soft hollow of his cheekbone. I paused, fingertips resting at his temple, palm contoured to the curve of his pallid cheek and
pressed my trembling lips together.
Leaning
his face into my hand Legolas sighed and murmured, �More soap,� and squirmed in
attempt to wash himself. He quieted at a soothing, and
more soap was used, and after several times with several changes of water he
was satisfied. Next came the healing, soft swipes of
herbal solutions on his cuts and bruises. The medicine swept away the clotted
blood and soothed discoloration till his skin glowed whole again, but there was
naught I could do for his soul.
Legolas
kept his eyes closed throughout the entire ordeal.
I
wrapped him in a large towel and put him into bed, towel and all. I watched as
he seemed to relax, head sinking into the pillow and going slack.
Legolas
looked broken a broken thing that once thrived and glowed, like a bird that was
full of life and light, until by a cruel mistake had fallen to earth. It did
not seem right that he was so still, looking so small and vulnerable nestled in
the blankets; it looked surreal, like it was an image from nightmare.
Instead
of glowing with life he had become a cold, empty shell, white as marble and
just as cold. It seemed his spirit, the life that had glowed hot within him,
was gone.
A
whimpered and a slight shifting reminded me that it was not my mind playing
tricks on my soul. This was real, his pain was real, his
passing would be real.
�His
passing. Would he pass onto Mandos this night, I wondered.
How long would it take for his spirit to forsake his body? The gravity of the
situation swept over me and I felt as if the breath had been sucked from my
chest, and two hot tears ran down my cheeks as I backed silently out of the
room. Scarcely an inch from the door and with my hand on the handle, there came a knock and I jumped.
�Lord
Elrond; how fares my son?� Thranduil�s voice was low
and laced with concern. �May I see him?�
Pulling
my emotions together and wiping away my tears I unlatched the door.
�Elrond,�
Legolas called from the bed, barely audible but heavy with urgency. �Tell him
nothing, I beg you.�
I
opened the door and lingered in the door way as Thranduil rushed in and knelt
by the bed. I could not hear what was murmured back and forth between the two
of them, but at length Thranduil straightened up and turned to leave.
�Morning
shall tell us more of his condition,� I said simply, which seemed enough for
the elven king.
�Yes,�
Thranduil said, though his thoughts seemed far away. After a moment�s pause he
said, �He has not eaten in days�He must keep up his strength if he is to
recover.�
�I
will see if he will eat,� I promised, and had Glorfindel show Thranduil to a
room for apathy and sorrow were written in his face.
�Stay with me,� Legolas whispered once his
father was gone. �I trust you, Elrond. I need you this night.�
His
request was simple, yet so hard. I lay beside him on the bed, getting as close
to him as I dared. �Stay with me,� I repeated his words. �Leave me not.� Even
as I said that I was afraid he would fade, slipping through my grasp to blow on
the wind.
He
did not reply.
Though
I felt it was futile, I kept my word to the Mirkwood King and had food brought
to Legolas� chambers. Alone in the room I set the tray on the bedside table,
resumed my position on the bed and studied his face. �You are not asleep,� I
said softly.
Ever
so slightly Legolas shook his head.
�May
I touch you?�
�Yes.�
Carefully
I slid my arm under his shoulders until his head was cradled to me. I held a
small piece of fresh bread to his lips, which he refused, as well as fruit. He
did accept a few spoonfuls of soup and tea.
�Your
father says you have not eaten in days. Legolas,� I said with great difficulty
as my throat began to hurt and my eyes began to sting, �Do not leave me.� I
began to weep, tears falling on his pale hair that I did not bother to wipe
away. Legolas kept his eyes closed but I knew better, and in horror mingled
with curiosity reached out and touched one scarred wrist with my fingertip.
He
said: �The men in the wood.�
I
nodded, then said, �Yes.�
�I
found a large group of them flogging a horse they could not train to ride. They
had one of those bits and strappings about his head,
and the animal was foaming red at the mouth in anger and injury for the men
kept yanking his head about. One of them had a long flail, and the horse�s
flanks were bleeding badly. The rest just stood around and laughed, as if it
was for sport, and that made me very angry, and I intervened. Many of them were
slain during the struggle that ensued from my interference, but there were
enough of them left�� His voice trailed off, and one hand drifted to the
binding marks on his other wrist. �Do you wonder?�
�A
little,� I confessed, for cruel ways of men are a mystery that I will never
fathom, though I have tried for I share their blood. �But you need not tell
me.�
He
shook his head. �I need to. May I?�
His
need for request broke my heart. �Yes,� I whispered. �Of
course, my Legolas.�
�I-I
was alone. They bound my wrists.� His voice was dead, flat, emotionless.
�They beat me as they did the horse. They forced me.� Legolas� body convulsed
and he let out a soft sob and his voice became very soft. �They took from me
what was not theirs to take, and they marred for me what should have been
precious and for one person alone. I hurt so badly. I had to see their eyes the
whole time; all of their faces. �Look at me, elf, see my eyes,� they said. They
made me.�
�My
Legolas,� I whispered again, voice cracking and ending my murmur in a whimper. He
exhaled in a shaky sigh and I drew him tighter to me, wailing softly, �You will
fade.�
�Elrond.�
�Yes?�
�Mandos is calling but�� He turned his head and opened his
eyes, round and startlingly blue against his pale skin as he looked at me for
the first time since last spring. They had lost the starlight they once held,
replaced by deep blue tunnels that looked haunted.
�I
refuse his summons, resist it. I needed to come to you. I need you.�
�I
am glad you came to me�so glad,� I said earnestly.
�Elrond?� Legolas� tone was pleading.
�Yes?�
�May
I ask you-�
�Anything,�
I said fiercely, interrupting. �Anything I have; it is yours.� And I meant it
with all my heart, but was not prepared for what he was about to ask.
�Can
you bond to me this night?� His voice cracked. �Make beautiful for me what I
know to be only as violence and shame?�
How
could I reject him? I knew in an instant that I loved him enough to bond, yet I
was afraid as his violation had opened the door to a plethora of complications.
I was afraid as we made love he would look into my eyes and see only what he
saw that night in the forest. I was afraid I would cause him pain and terror,
and that he would pass from this world with pain and terror as his last
emotions.
Ever
vigilant, Legolas saw my fear. �I trust you,� he said.
I
could not refuse him. With shaking hands I removed my clothes, slid beneath the
covers, and kissed him. He kissed me back, slow, tentative. I had never touched
another as such, and neither had he, but we explored,
we had all the time in the world to learn. His broken body became warm and
fluid and whole in my hands; he cried out and I cried out, unwilling to let go
of the other even for the briefest of seconds. Needs grew urgent, and unwilling
to cause him pain I moved to take him into me, but Legolas protested.
�I
need you to take me,�
�I
will do no such thing,� I replied firmly, and Legolas gripped my face in his
two hands.
�Elrond,
I need it if I am to heal. Do this for me.�
There
was no arguing with him. I pressed my forehead to his, lips a fraction apart,
tasting his breath mingling with my own, quick and short in anticipation or
fear. �Legolas,� I murmured, pressing my chest to his and taking long, deep
breaths. He grew accustomed to this slower, gentler rhythm, feeling my body
against his and matched his breath to mine, and our heartbeats fell into
unison. Our bodies were ready.
At
first he stiffened in pain and for a moment horror flashed through his eyes
before his eyelids fluttered shut. I dared not asked him to look at me and he
whispered my name over and over, though I was not sure if it was in passion or
as a reminder to himself.
�It
is me, Legolas,� I soothed, cradling his head in my hands and kissing his
eyelids.
�I
know it is you,� he whispered breathlessly, and his eyes opened again, and his
gaze met mine. �Ai!� Legolas gave his first cry of
pleasure as a depth and rhythm were established.
In
the end we trembled and I wept again, afraid that he would leave me now.
�Sleep,
love,� Legolas whispered, kissing my eyes shut.
I
did not want to but my exhausted body and mind would allow nothing else. I
drifted off to sleep, sure that the next morning I would wake to find Legolas
in the Halls of Mandos, at rest at last.
The
next morning there was as soft breath on my cheek, accompanied by a warm kiss
and a soft probe in the ribs.
�Elrond.�
Groggily
I stirred, cracking my eyelids against the morning sun to see Legolas laying
beside me with his face a breadth from my own. His skin was warm cream laced
with golden honey, lips a soft pink in the morning sunlight and begging to be
kissed. His eyes were a bright blue and shining with the light of the stars, as
they should be; he was warm, whole, and very much alive, and I cried out in joy
and wonderment as he fell on me, covering my face with kisses.
He
did not pass, though by what circumstances this came to be I know not; perhaps
his Fea had not seen fit to leave his body, after
love had made up for its violation. No one can be sure; only Namo [Mandos] knows, but I thank
him everyday for his mercy, for Legolas.
Thranduil
had spent the night sleeping soundly, for the exhausted woodland king had
needed it greatly after two days hard journey and worry. With the following
morning he was overjoyed to find his son nearly mended, and slightly less than
overjoyed to find out the circumstances of his recovery.
Nevertheless,
since that summer, I have grown to respect and care for Thranduil, though I
still have no idea why I came to dislike him in the first place.
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