Fan Fiction ❯ Demons in the Dark ❯ Chapter 16

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Italics indicate memory or dreams.

Commonly used Sindarin words:

Ai: Oh!
pen-neth: young one
muindor: brother
gwador: sworn brother, not those by blood
Ada: dad
melethron: lover
a'maelamin: lover
ernil-nín: my prince
ion nín: my son

*~*~*

Legolas was warm and comfortable, and as he started to wake, his first instinct was to turn over and bury himself deeper into the covers. But something prevented him from turning onto his stomach. Panic started to grip him as he tried to move and found himself unable. What had happened?

"Shh, Legolas. Be calm, gwador. You are safe."

The familiar voice was very close. Legolas turned his head to the side to see the relieved face of Elrohir sitting next to him. It was then he noticed the gentle hand carding through his hair, trying to soothe him.

"Elrohir?" Legolas' heart was pounding in his chest, eyes fixed on the dark haired elf. The last thing he remembered clearly was thinking he was dying at the hands of the orcs. But the room he was in seemed familiar. Afternoon light drifted into the chamber, the warm gold and red that the Prince always associated with Imladris.

"Aye, 'tis me," his friend soothed. "Be calm," he repeated. "We restrained you so you would not hurt yourself should you wake alone."

"Hurt?" Legolas' mouth was dry, his throat parched.

"Yes," Elrohir said, reaching behind him for a glass of water. "You have several broken ribs, and one punctured your lung, which is why you were having problems breathing. Ada has done what he can, but you still need time to heal."

Legolas waited, feeling himself calm slightly at the sound of Elrohir's voice, even though the words he spoke were less comforting. "Water?"

"Let me help you up," Elrohir said.

Legolas felt his restraints come loose. He pushed himself up, allowing Elrohir to guide him and settle a pillow behind his back. By the time he was more or less upright, he was panting with the exertion, his chest tight. Elrohir gently eased the wayward strands of hair out of Legolas' face while he caught his breath.

Elrohir handed him the glass, not letting go until he was sure the Prince was not going to drop it. "Sip first," Elrohir advised. "You've been without for some time."

Legolas paused. "How long?"

"You were gone for two days," Elrohir breathed. "You've been here, unconscious, for a night and a day. Ai, Legolas, we were so worried."

Legolas reached a hand out for Elrohir's and was pleased to find it encased in a warm grip. "Estel and Glorfindel found the signs of an attack not far from the ascent to the high pass," Elrohir said softly. "But it was too late in the day to venture out by the time we knew. We had to wait until sunrise to ride out," Elrohir squeezed Legolas' hand. "We feared we would lose you," Elrohir admitted. "Elladan felt it."

"I had given up," Legolas whispered. "I was so cold, and so alone, and I thought it was all over. I didn't expect anyone to look for me. I didn't think anyone would notice I was missing until it was too late."

"It was foolish of you to ride out alone," Elrohir admonished softly.

"I know," Legolas said softly. "I was so angry, Elrohir." He toyed with the glass in his hand. "I was so afraid I was going to hit him, or that he was going to say something unforgivable, and I didn't want that to happen. So I left," he admitted quietly. "I never should have left the valley."

"No," Elrohir agreed. "But it is done, and cannot be undone."

Legolas nodded, staring down into his lap. He was tired, but not overwhelmingly so. Knowing how long he'd been asleep, he didn't really feel like submitting to his dreams again. "Where is Elladan?" he asked after a momentary silence. "I would know, if he doesn't wish to see me," he said, honestly expecting the older twin to not want to see him.

"Look," Elrohir glanced over Legolas to a bed against the wall.

Elladan was sleeping peacefully, dark smudges under his vacant grey eyes. He faced Legolas even as he slept, his bandaged arm curled under his head, the other reaching out toward the blonde's bed. Legolas handed the empty water glass back to Elrohir and stretched his hand out to grasp Elladan's tightly. The older twin murmured, but did not wake.

"He is well?" Legolas turned back to Elrohir to ask, then back to staring into the too pale face of his lover.

"He took a poisoned wound when we found you," Elrohir explained. "Ada put something into the antidote to help him sleep. He should wake up soon. He was so worried about you, meldir." Elrohir squeezed Legolas' hand. "He hardly sat still while you were gone, and hadn't rested since Glorfindel brought word that there had been an attack. He never meant to hurt you, Legolas."

Legolas had no response to that. Elrohir released his hand. "Ada will want to know you have awoken. Could you eat something? Maybe just some broth?"

Legolas nodded, not taking his eyes off his lover.

Behind him, Elrohir smiled as he stood. "You will be okay alone for a few minutes?"

Legolas looked up into Elrohir's eyes. "I am not alone."

"No," Elrohir agreed. "You are not." He pressed a light kiss to the top of Legolas' head. "I'm glad you are safe, gwador," he said. "I will return."

Legolas fixed his gaze on the sleeping face of his lover. He was warm and comfortable, and without pain. Elladan's hand was warm in his own, and he soon felt himself drifting off to sleep, despite his desire to speak more with Elrohir.
Translation:
meldir: friend