A Healing Touch

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! Heres a holiday treat to all my wonderful readers, I love you ladies! A/N: I am NOT drunk. (though I wish I was). *Hugs and kisses to everyone* !!! *noise makers in background*

Legolas hits puberty in this chapter, people! He needs Glorfindel's help in figuring out a few things. A bit of underage slash in it though.If a ninety-five year old elfling can be considered underage.

Disclaimer: I got a Legolas action figure for Christmas, does that t ast as owning him?

Kirsten: Thank you, I look forward to seeing the finished project.

Steph: Thanks, it took me a while to figure out how to end that chapter. And sure! I'll send you the link via e-mail.

Anon: Hey you changed your name. Yes! Erestor is so fun to write. And yep, I think Glorfindel's bandage would have gotten wet. Ah well, Elrond will 'punish' him later. LOL, yes, I love knowing my readers cry when they read my work, makes it all worth it that is has the desired effect. Oh, and 'major-domo', in a nutshell, is basically another word for advisor... like in the Lion King! Zazu, the little bird, clearly states to the hyenas that he is, and I quote, 'I, madam, am the king's major-domo'. Sorry, Im a bit of a cartoon freak. Don't own TLK either, don't sue. lol.

isis: Wow, that takes a load off, using half your name, lol. Sorry, didn't mean to worry you... again. Anyway, glad you liked it. BTW, how did you like ROTK?

Silent Archer: I know it was sad, but its how it should be. I'm like that in real life, I don't believe in keeping animals caged up in zoos, they belong in the wild. Unfortunately these days caging them up is the only way we can protect them... what a sick world we live in. Lol, it was mean of Glorfindel, but remember he's a warrior. Dragon + giant teeth and claws = danger!! Anyway, happy holidays!

breach cannon all must die: ... nice name. And yes, thank you for suggesting it. For a while I had a hard time trying to register though, that's why it took so long.

Lomelinde: Next chapter slash, I promise! A bit of slash in this chapter too, actually. Yes! Legolas is a total babe in the movie! Damn, he's cute! Lol, actually when I went to see it, nobody clapped at that part. It was completely silent and then all you here is me "Wow..." lol, it was pretty funny. And yes, slash evidence, absolutely.

Dreemseer: A bit of slashy goodness here, I'm glad you like it.

............

Many a year had passed since Legolas Greenleaf had been taken to Rivendell after the attack that had reined on Mirkwood forest. He was now in his ninety-fifth year, and if he were of man culture he would be the equivalent of a fourteen year old boy. Already he had begun training with a bow, and was considered amongst many, Glorfindel's prized pupil. The seneschal had taught him to use a bow, as well as long knives and a sword, though the latter was not of much interest to the elfling he was still quite capable of using it, he often chose not to. He had favoured the bow amongst all, and had also taken a fondness for the knives, finding them more durable as well as agile compared to the sword.

Every morning after first meal Glorfindel would take his youngest student out into the quarry and have him practice on wooden planks and other targets. The boy had excellent form and very acute senses, needless to say, even for that of an elf. Though despite his resilience and stamina, Legolas absolutely refused to shoot any living creature unless it be orc, spider or any other threat to elven kind. This at times frustrated Glorfindel as he was unable to persuade the lad to go hunting with him and a hunting party. Nevertheless, Legolas stood bs mos moral beliefs. As vigorous as he was he was also incredibly stubborn, truly proof that he was his father's son, the only difference between them being Legolas' physical features which portrayed that of his mother, and of course his controlled temper, that too being something Elrond had taught him to master.

He was sometimes brought back to Mirkwood, accompanied by either Glorfindel or the sons of Elrond, for the sake of visiting his father and brothers, but his family had changed much, not who he once knew. His eldest brother Nava, Thranduil's heir, had changed little, so like his father in both physical feature and attitude, though his temper was not as wrathful. He had recently taken a wife at Thranduil's insistence though the couple had yet to produce an heir of their own.

His brother Tallen had recently become captain of Thranduil's elven army after the former commander's fall in battle, and none could deny that the prince was not suited for the job. He was a fine warrior, his tracking and hunting skills rivalling that of any other Mirkwood elf. Unfortunately though he was not without his imperfections. Since the death of their mother Tallen had become far more vengeful and unmerciful in his battles, her death still weighing heavily on his damaged heart.

As for Thranduil, the elven king kept to himself most of the time, if not involved in court or some urgent predicament, he would be found in his chambers in the cold dark, wine bottle in hand, wallowing in his own solitude and seclusion from his people. What good was a king to his people if he could not protect them? He had let his people down, let his sons down, let his wife ... he would not-- could not ever forgive himself for what he let happened to her, nor his son. His son... the memory of what happened to the elfling still haunted him, it was a miracle the boy had survived at all. He could never truly face up to the elfling after what he had allowed happened to him. His cries and whimper and trembling body still haunted his memory, and how could his son ever forgive him when he, himself could not? Perhaps if he took a moment to actually look into his youngest's eyes, he would not see an accusing glare or a frightened stare, but the love and care he had for him and desperately wanted back. Alas, it was not to be, and often the elfling would silently wonder if there might be something wrong with him, or perhaps his father would not wish to consort with someone who had become tainted and dirtied.

Today of all days, this thought wandered through the elfling's innocent mind. It was the eleventh of September, the day his parents begot him. He and Glorfindel now stood out on the practice field reviewing firing techniques while Elrond's house prepared a banquet in celebration of Legolas' conception, much to the prince's utter embarrassment. He had clearly expressed his opinion in the matter to the elf lord claiming it was unnecessary and they should not be wasting their resou on on him, but of course Elrond claimed that as nonsense and insisted on it. The elfling despised being the center of attention, only speaking when necessary or if something relevant was on his mind. Only when he was with his friend Narofea or in the presence of Elrond, Glorfindel, Arwen and the twins was he ever relaxed and felt free to speak his mind, not caring if what he said sounded foolish or childish. The incident with the orcs had never truly lifted from thought nor heart, and the elfling still after all these years felt insecure and weary of most people which became more difficult as he grew older. As he becamder,der, he was expected to carry more responsibility, socialize with elders and travellers, and learn more skills in different aspects of life, educate himself in different cultures and species. At those times he was forced to push his insecurities aside, such was an obligation of a young prince.

Hwn bwn body, he noticed, was changing. As he continued to grow his body would respond differently to things he normally did. At times he would become far more frustrated than usual and become angered with things that normally wouldn't bother. His feelings were often in conflict with each other and it took all his strength to control them without bursting out into a fit of rage or break down sobbing into a helpless heap. His voice would often crack when he spoke. Even more private parts of his person would respond differently around certain people and he could not quite figure out why it was happening but he absolutely refused to let anyone know about these embarrassing abnormalities. The elves would surely frown upon him then, and he did not wish to lose what respect he had.

Legolas' musings were abruptly halted by the call of his name. His eyes snapped to the seneschal's whom was standing just at his side, positioning the bow properly in his grip. "Slide your left hand down the bow a little, Legolas, 'tis a bit too high."

"I apologize, Glorfindel." Legolas stammered, properly positioning his left hand on the bow.

"Your thoughts seem occupied, Legolas. Worry not, I understand. It's not every day our young prince turns ninety-five now, is it?" the seneschal replied good naturedly. Legolas sighed as he knocked an arrow to the string, pulling it back tightly to his cheek and looking down the arrow's shaft to the target bored before letting it loose, hitting the center of the target. "Very good, Legolas."

The elfling sighed in frustration with a scowl. "It was off."

"Barely, you hit the center of the target."

"But I could have done better. It went off to the right side a bit."

Glorfindel smiled kindly. "Always such the perfectionist. Relax. Your frustration will only make you more likely to make mistakes."

Legolas whirled around annoyed and glared at the seneschal. "You, yourself say there is no room for error on the battle field. I may not have been able to afford that mistake were we hunting orcs."

Glorfindel's face sobered and he looked at his young student with a raised eyebrow in confusion. "Is there something wrong, Legolas?"

The prince's face softened and he turned back around, readying another arrow. "No. Everything is fine." he let loose the second arrow and growled through his teeth when it did not hit dead center. "Something must be wrong with this bow, it's not working properly."

"Here." Glorfindel held out his hand and the elfling handed him the bow. The seneschal held it at arms length, scrutinizing the weapon carefully before sliding his s fis firmly along it, feeling for imperfections. "There is nothing wrong with this bow, penneth. Maybe it's your stance. Stand for me."

Legolas threw an irritated scowl in Glorfindel's direction but did as he was told. He handed the elfling back the bow and instructed Legolas to take aim. Again the prince shot, again missing his intended target. "See?" Legolas almost growled. "I missed again! Something is wrong with the bow, maybe the string needs waxing."

"Nay," Glorfindel shook his head thoughtfully. "The problem is with your stance. Your feet need to be parted more, and your hand was shaking, you need to steady it."

"My hand was not shaking." the elfling's brow furrowed displaying his displeasure.

"Aye, it was. You seem tense, you must relax."

"I'm relaxed fine! I tell you it's the bow!"

"Legolas! Mind your tongue." Glorfindel sternly chastised. He sighed then in attempts to calm his own quick temper. "Go and collect your thoughts. We will make no progress if you are agitated."

Legolas bit his lip to cease any further outburst that lay on his tongue and placed the bow on the ground before trudging over to his ever faithful willow tree, climbing up its sturdy trunk and nestling in one of the ancient boughs. He lay on his stomach and allowed one arm and his legs to dangle off the sides while he folded his other arm under his chin and sighed. He closed his eyes to calm his ire mood and breathed in the sweet scent of the ancient tree, listening to its long dangling leaves rustle in the gentle breeze. It was odd, but the aged willow always seemed to calm the elfling even just by cradling him in her massive boughs and whispering to him with her long weeping twigs and leaves. The voice of nature was always one to sooth the little elf. He could tell her everything he wanted and never would she condemn or chastise him.

When he felt he was able to voice his thoughts without becoming angered he finally spoke while tracing the roughened, wrinkled bark with his fingers. "What's happening to me? As of late I can do nothing right. 'Tis as if I'm cursed. I know it sounds mad but I swear it is true." the tree's dangling leaves gently caressed his back as if in silent comfort and like a kitten wanting to be pet Legolas leaned into the touch, enjoying the feeling as the vines gently tickled his body. He smiled slightly at this, realizing he was being silly but continued his conversation with the old willow. "I wonder if my father will come for the celebration. I miss him terribly, and my brothers." the elfling sighed and it was several moments before he spoke again. "Will I ever go home, I wonder? I wish I could but then... I am afraid. What if the orcs come again? What if... what if they do what they did last time to me? I don't want to feel that pain again, not ever." the elfling's voice started to tremble and he swallowed hard, blinking back the tears that came with the memory. He calmed after taking a few ragged breaths. "I suppose there’s no use dwelling on that now. I can't change what happened... and that's the problem. I'm ruined and no one will ever want me." Legolas choked on a sob, but allowed no tears to fall. "That's why my father hasn't come back for me, you know? His son was tainted by those monsters and now he wants nothing to do with me. I'm disgusting." unable to control the tightening of his throat, Legolas buried his face in his folded arms and began to weep, his body racking with each sob. The elfling was so distraught in his sorrow that he did not hear the light footsteps approach until the owner of those feet spoke.

"Now why would an elfling be weeping on such a day as this? His begetting day, no less."

Legolas glanced up at the new voice and immediately a smile spread on his youthful features, his sorrow momentarily forgotten. "Mithrandir!" the elfling then blushed, embarrassed at being caught weeping like a babe and quickly dragged his sleeve over his face before jumping out of the tree to embrace the Istari. Gandalf chuckled as he pulled the elfling into a tight hug before holding him at arm's length.

"My, you have grown much since the last time we met, becoming quite the handsome young elf." again Legolas blushed at the words, glancing down at his clasped hands before regaining his composure. The first time Legolas had met the old Maia was several years ago. Gandalf had come to visit Elrond and had discovered Thranduil's youngest child amongst them. The elfling had been awestruck, never in his life encountering one of the Maiar. They had spent much time together, Mithrandir showing the prince many different magic tricks and telling him of his travels and encounters with many different creatures.

"Thank you, Mithrandir. Tell me if you will, what brings you here this day?"

"Why, I will be supplying the fireworks, of course!" Gandalf announced cheerfully. Legolas' brow furrowed, he had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Elrond wouldn't... would he?"

"Fireworks for what?" Gandalf placed a hand behind Legolas' back guiding him in the direction of the Last Homely House. The wizard was one of the very few people the princeling allowed to physically touch him, for what reason he wasn't sure, but he somehow trusted him.

Gandalf chuckled and patted the little elf's shoulder. "For your begetting day celebration, dear boy. Has it slipped your mind already?"

The elfling moaned and buried his face in his hands. "It was only supposed to be a simple dinner party. He's making too big a deal out of this." he mumbled.

"Hmm, perhaps I wasn't supposed to say anything." the Istari mumbled before speaking aloud. "You think far too little of yourself, Legolas Greenleaf. You listen to me very carefully. You are as important as any other in Middle Earth, and you are destined for great gs ags and people will sing and tell tales of you for ages to come."

"What could I possibly do that would be worth lamenting of?" the elfling mumbled more to himself than the wizard.

"That is for the Valar to decide, my lad. But enough pondering about the future for now. So, tell me why it is that you were weeping in the old willow?"

Legolas glanced away, loath to tell the ancient wizard of his troubled mind, but the way he was looking at him expectantly... "I was thinking of my father. Thinking that perhaps if I had not let those orcs ... taint me as they did then maybe he..."

Gandalf stopped mid stride before the elfling finished his sentence and quickly whirled on the boy, causing him to momentarily flinch as the Istar grasped his shoulders and stared at him firmly, yet kindly. "Don't, Legolas. Don't you even dwell on those thoughts for a moment. What happened was no fault of yours and don't you even believe that for a moment! Your father loves you more than life its self. He's just having a difficult time right now." Legolas' eyes began to brim with tears.

"But then why does he never wish to see me? What have I done to be neglected by him?"

Gandalf sighed sadly, cupping the youthful face and brushing his thumb over the boy's cheek to wipe away the tears. "He does not do it purposely, I assure you. It is difficult with your home being so close to Dol Guldur and all. He just wants you to be safe. He is still mourning, your wood is under constant attack and you lose so many. But he does love you, Legolas, never forget that. Why, I remember when you were still in your mother's belly. To say that he was delighted when he found out he was having another child would be a large understatement."

Legolas threw his head up in utter surprise. "You knew me before I was even born?"

Gandalf chuckled. "Aye. With your brothers already almost all grown up he was exceedingly joyful that there would be another elfling to coddle in his home. And when you did finally come out into the world he spoiled you and you always had his undivided attention when he was not busy with pressing matters. Those were happier times though."

"But then the orcs and spiders came. They destroyed my family." Legolas mumbled.

Gandalf nodded sadly and tipped the prince's head up to meet his gaze. "You are a prince, Legolas. You have the power to make things right again."

"What if I don't wish to be a prince?" Legolas suddenly huffed. "I'm tired of being known because of my title. I want to be known as Legolas Greenleaf, a wood elf of Mirkwood... a warrior, the protector of the innocent."

"And you can make that happen, young one. But you cannot change what you are... but perhaps by accepting what you are, it will help you define who you are and make that wish be."

Legolas gazed at the Maia, head tilted to the side in a questioning look. "Perhaps peopleld uld understand you better if you did not speak in riddles, Mithrandir."

The Istar merely chuckled. "Now where would be the fun in that? Come, accompany me to your lord Elrond."

....

Legolas buried his head in his hands as he desperately tried to sink deeper into his chair as Elrond stood at the head of the table giving a speech in honour of the young elfling, humiliating him to no end. Why did he insist on doing this to him every year? The prince mentally swore he'd have vengeance on the elf lord involving a pair of breeches and some pink dye.

"Today we celebrate the conception of our Legolas Greenleaf Thranduilion, an elfling that has not only become a member of our house, but also a member of our family. Twenty-nine years ago Legolas was brought to us to seek shelter. Now he lives amongst us in Rivendell and I daresay it would not be the same here without him." Elrond looked fondly at the elfling with a smile on his ageless face and one hand placed over his left breast where his heart beat. The elfling's hands were now lowered but his face was blushing the colour of a ripe tomato. But secretly he was touched by those words. "He has come a long way since then and I, like many, am truly proud of our little Greenleaf. He is wise beyond his years, and he has the purest of hearts amongst us all."

There were murmurs of agreement through out the room and Legolas moaned silently to himself. Glorfindel then stood at the elf lord's side holding something wrapped in silk red cloth and he continued his speech. "Recently, as I am sure you are all aware, Legolas has begun his warrior training under the fine tutorage of our lord Glorfindel. As such it would be wise that he adorn protective gear when training." Elrond smiled at the elfling as he gave the elf lord an inquisitive look. "I would have liked to wait until you were older when you received a pair of these, penneth. But it seems your persistence of becoming a warrior is reason enough to gift upon you these now." The Lore Master turned to Glorfindel and uncovered a pair of dark leather gauntlets with gold trimmings and embroideries woven in to them. He took each one in hand and presented them to the awestruck elfling at his side.

For a moment Legolas simply gazed at the beautifully crafted wrist guards in silent disbelief. He could barely believe that Elrond would bestow upon him such a gift at so young an age in only the early stages of training. To realize that Elrond believed that he was ready to adorn such garb was an honour in its self, that alone leaving the prince utterly speechless. "Hold out your arms, Legolas." unable to form a coherent word, Legolas simply did as he was told and presented his arms to the elven lord so he could slip them on his forearms and lace them. Would it been appropriate, Legolas would have lunged himself into the Lore Master's arms, but instead settled for a warrior's embrace, gripping Elrond's arms.

"Thank you." the elfling managed to whisper. Elrond nodded.

"You've earned them. I am so proud of you, Legolas. Never forget that." the elfling smiled and bowed his head before taking his seat. Elrond turned back to his subjects. "Let the feast begin."

The feast was one of great magnificence to say the least. After a large hearty meal which consisted of freshly baked breads, fruit, every type of vegetable imaginable, several different meats, the latter which Legolas refused to touch, and of course many different desserts including pies, cakes, and foreign candies that were most likely brought by Mithrandir.

The meal was shortly followed by games and a small archery tournament which of course, Legolas had easily won though the perfectionist inside himself was unsatisfied with his play but he said naught of it.

....

It was now dark, and Gandalf had begun setting off fireworks, earning murmurs and cries of delight as each was lit and whistled up into the sky before a massive explosion echoed through the valley and a rain of dazzling colours illuminated the night sky.

Legolas sat on the steps to the house beside Elrond, while Glorfindel stood behind them and the twins leaned against the banister and Erestor against the wall. The young prince was painfully quiet, watching the sparkling showers of different hues dance across the midnight air with no comment what so ever and though his attention remained fixed on the fireworks, his eyes were glazed in distant thought. Elrond's face was blank as he stared at the boy curiously, silently wondering what could be going on in his golden head. He lightly placed a hand on the elfling's shoulder and he flinched slightly in surprise before drawing his attention to the elf lord. "You seem troubled, penneth. Is something the matter?" his words were silent and gentle for Legolas' ears alone.

After several silent seconds Legolas replied, his words barely audible except to the elf beside him. "He didn't come. I really thought he would, but he did not."

It did not take a fool to realize whom the prince spoke of, and Elrond nodded his head in silent understanding , squeezing the younger elf's shoulder comfortingly. "No. But I am certain there is an explanation for his absence. Your father loves you, Legolas. He may not show it all the time, but he truly does. He would not miss this day if not for a reason." the elfling sighed sadly and the elf lord wrapped his arm around the boy and hugged him tightly. "Do not forget that you have people here who care about you as well."

At those words Legolas' lips quirked in a hint of a smile. "I know. Otherwise you would have not gone to all this trouble. You didn't have to, you know."

"It was no trouble at all. You are well worth it, hen-nin, and don't you ever doubt that." Legolas snuggled ever closer to the peredhil, taking comfort in the physical contact.

"Still, you are too good to me, all this was not necessary. Thank you, Elrond."

The Lore Master bent his neck and pressed a chaste kiss to the elfling's golden head. "You are more than welcome, my little prince."

Glorfindel watched the pair silently with a gentle smile, barely catching their exchanged words through the loud rumbling of the fireworks. Quite a pair, those two were. The timid elven princeling and the stern and powerful elf lord cuddling together like kittens.

Soon after the fireworks display Legolas' friend, Narofea, came to retrieve the prince. Normally Elrond forbade the elfling to play after dark but considered this night a special occasion and so dismissed him. The red haired elfling lead the prince down to the lake near the old willow tree and together the pair sat on the hunched over apple tree. Narofea then playfully wrapped an arm around his companion's shoulder a squeezed him tightly. "It's been a wonderful day for you, hasn't it?"

"Aye," the prince chuckled. "Very wonderful, though I think we could have went without the fireworks. If you ask me, Elrond makes far too big a deal out of these things."

"I hope you don't tell him that. It's what makes these celebrations so enjoyable. Elrond seems to have your favour, perhaps you could convince him to do this on my begetting day." the elflings laughed heartily.

"I'll see what I can do."

\d,"d," Narofea grinned. "Lovely gauntlets, by the way."

Legolas smiled and looked down at his forearms, tracing over them with his fingertips. "Thank you. Their a bit big but Elrond said I'll grow into them."

"Indeed," Narofea reached out his own hand to run them over the smooth leather. "they must have been very expensive to make."

"Elrond spoils me far too much for my own good." the prince grinned. The red haired elfling simply laughed.

"Nay! Nay! Do not tell him that. Enjoy the attention he and Glorfindel lavish upon you."

"I do not wish to be gluttonous."

"You cannot be gluttonous if you do not ask for these things. Besides, when you are a warrior these things are necessary. Speaking of which, you did positively wonderful on the tournament today. I wish I could handle a bow with your skill, though I prefer the sword, myself."

"My thanks, though I wish I could have done better. My aim was off by several inches."

"Ai! You are too hard on yourself, gwador. You hit the target dead center!"

"You sound just like Glorfindel."

Narofea gasped in mock surprise, hand held over his heart. "You honour me with your comparison to him! Nay, Legolas. Your aim was perfect, 'tis a shame your father were not here to have seen it." a momentary flash of pain crossed the blond haired elf's features, and Narofea immediately felt guilt rise within him. "I am sorry, mellon-nin. I didn't mean to--"

"Nay, Narofea. It is well. I wish my father had been here but he was not and I cannot change that. My family is not here but there is nothing I can do about it so there is no point in dwelling on that."

"Your family is not here, say you. But then what do you call us, gwador?" the elfling pulled the young prince into a one armed hug, squeezing him tightly in a playful manner. "Come hither. No use dwelling on that, indeed. I must admit I am hurt." Narofea put on an exaggerated pout and Legolas playfully nudged him with his shoulder.

"You are right, mellon-nin. My family is here."

"Of course I am. Come, let us return and see if there is any left over dessert from evening meal. I find myself very fond of those candies from Gondor that Mithrandir brought."

"Were we not just talking of gluttony a few moments ago?" Legolas smirked. Narofea shouldered the prince as he walked past him and Legolas snickered.

As the two elflings headed back towards the Last Homely House, the sound of snickering caught their attention. They whirled around and walked off the path, towards the sound which apparently came from a cluster of shrubs. Legolas and Narofea glanced at each other curiously before shrugging through the bushes and finding themselves in the presence of Orchalorn and his two companions. Legolas' first instinct was to immediately flee, knowing Elrond would not be pleased with his association with them, but what they were doing was curious. They appeared to be peaking through the bushes with great interest, pointing at something in the lake and wooing at it. Narofea found this curious as well, scrunching up his nose nternterest. "What are you do--"

The red haired elfling was immediately hushed as a hand clapped over his mouth. He drew his eyes to Draug-carch whom had a finger over his lips indicating that they be quiet. He pulled the two new arrivals close together by the shoulders, which Legolas flinched at and quickly batted the offending limb away. "Hush," Draug-carch whispered. "and look out there." the elfling then turned back to his former position peeking out the bush beside Orchalorn.

Giving each other another curious glance, both elflings knelt beside the other three and silently brushed aside some leaves and peered out through the small gaps. What the boys saw made their jaws immediately drop. "Wow..." they uttered in unison.

Out in the calm lake stood three young elf maidens several years past their majority in all their naked glory. Their pale, lithe bodies glistened in the moonlight as they bathed themselves in the cool water, bright clear droplets slowly caressing their soft flesh, rolling down their full breasts and firm abdomens, down their thin muscular thighs and rounded buttocks'. Their long wet hair draped down their smooth backs and their thin fingers rubbed down their bodies as they cupped handfuls of water against their persons' and bathed themselves.

For not the first time that day, Legolas' face flushed a beautiful rose, and with utter horror realized his penis was becoming hard and painfully erect. His pupils became dilated as he watched the scene continue, his breath coming out in short ragged gasps, not just because of the beautiful scene taking place but also because of his absolute embarrassment. He only hoped that nobody else noticed his humiliating dilemma. "Ai, Legolas," Narofea muttered, never taking his eyes off the scene before them. "Elbereth must truly favour you this day."

amidst his panting, Legolas found his voice and stammered a reply, his blushing never ceasing. "I--I don't think we should be watching this, we are invading their privacy."

"No one is asking you to stay, princeling." Orchalorn mumbled absently, all blavelavering as he continued to watch the nude she-elves bathe.

Try as he might, Legolas could not take his eyes from view, silently berating himself for his bodies reactions and his own inexcusable behaviour. His eyes began to brim with tears out of frustration when his body refused to obey his mental commands to stop doing... whatever it was that it was doing.

The elflings did not have the chance to watch the entire scene though as Glorfindel and Erestor suddenly burst through the bushes with severe expressions on their firm faces. "What in the name of Eru are you all doing?" Glorfindel growled angrily. The three she-elves shrieked and immediately tried to cover themselves.

"We beg your par lad ladies," Erestor stuttered, blocking his own face from view of the three women, and shielding them from view with his own body to give them what privacy he could. "we do not mean to intrude."

"All of you," the seneschal seethed. "back home immediately."

As the other four elflings moaned in disappointment, Legolas stood stock still in the corner of the bushes, if possible blushing more furiously before right to the tips of his ears. When the prince made no t tot to move, Glorfindel snapped at him, startling him. "You heard me, Legolas."

"I--I'm sorry, Glorfindel. I didn't mean to stay..." the prince was now very close to tears, both because of his humiliation in the situation and the mistrust he had displayed.

"If that's what that bulge in your leggings is any indication of." Orchalorn loudly proclaimed, eager to take the attention from himself.

"Silence!" Glorfindel growled at the arrogant elfling, unable to stop the unnoticeable glance at the prince's crotch. Sure enough, the front of the young elf's leggings were raised.

Legolas was completely mortified, frozen to the spot in absolute shame. Unable to stop it from happening, Legolas whimpered before tears began sliding down his cheeks but before they made it the entire length of the youthful cheeks, Legolas suddenly pushed past the elves and ran as fast as his legs would carry him into the forest.

The three elflings snickering was immediately quelled when Glorfindel whirled back around and glared daggers at them. "I will deal with you later. Erestor, take them back, keep them in your study until I return."

Narofea, whom stood beside the advisor at this point, remained silent. He wanted nothing more than to trudge over to Orchalorn and deck him in that spiteful face of his but knew he would most likely be punished by one of the elders. He only hoped that his friend was all right. Erestor nodded at the seneschal, walking over and gripping Orchalorn non too gently by the collar of his shirt and shoving him forward. "With pleasure, Glorfindel." While Erestor ushered the elflings in the said direction, Glorfindel sighed before turning around and heading the way he saw Legolas run off to.