Coming Home

Coming Home, Chapter 2.

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“Go to him.”



“Wha--,” Aragorn sat up, rubbing his eyes blearily.



“Legolas. He’s up. Go to him.”



Arwen was leaning over him, and had apparently just shaken him awake, but Aragorn had no idea. He was tired, his mind still heavy and slow with sleep. He couldn’t hear anything from the other room, but he’d learned long ago never to doubt his wife. She may have been mortal now, but her hearing and intuition was still nothing to be taken lightly.



He slid on his dressing gown and half walked, half stumbled to the door. Valar he was tired. With Arwen in labor last night, he hadn’t gotten much in the way of sleep, and today they’d been up for a long time with the baby. It felt like he’d just closed his eyes. How the daylights was Arwen still awake and seemingly so fresh.

He stumbled the the door frame and n snn snickered softly before saying seriously, “Stay with him as long as he needs you Aragorn.”



That roused him sufficiently to be able to look at her with a raised eyebrow. She knew now, of course, that they’d been lovers. She surely would be troubled by his spending that kind of time with Legolas, even in his condition, alone. He wasn’t sure he trusted himself .



“I care for him too, Estel. Do what you can for him. He needs you.”



Aragorn nodded, and opened the heavy wooden door. For whatever reason, Legolas hadn’t locked it from the other side and it was easy to slip into the adjoining suite.



At first he didn’t see Legolas, but when he did all thoughts of sleep, Arwen, of anything but Legolas stopped.



He was at one of the open windows, and his palms flat against the stone windowsill, his elbows locked and holding himself upright. Aragorn reached him just as he gagged and his knees buckled. One arm around his waist, the other he pushed through the loose blonde hair, holding it out of his face, and bracing him at the same time.



Aragorn could feel the intense *heat* rolling off Legolas as he held him. It seemed Legolas had already thrown up, or simply hadn’t eaten, as he wasn’t actually vomiting, just retching drily. It felt like hours, but was probably only minutes, before Legolas’s stomach stopped convulsing, and he simply hung limp in Aragorn’s hands.

Aragorn went to his knees slowly, taking the shaking elf with him, guiding him down to rest in the plush carpet.



Legolas groaned, almost inaudibly as he settled against Aragorn, letting his head fall back against a broad shoulder. Without conscious thought he rubbed an over heated cheek against the wonderfully cool satin of Aragorn’s robe. As actual awareness returned he started to pull away.



“Shhhh. Stay still. I’ve got you.” Aragorn said softly, shifting them both so that he was sitting against a wall, Legolas still in his arms.



Legolas responded by tucking his head down against the side of Aragorn’s neck. The soft, erratic breath tickled the side of his throat, and Aragorn found himself rocking slightly in an age old instinctive effort to comfort. Toying with the golden silk of Legolas’s hair, he said very quietly, “I’m sorry.”

“h
“hmm? For what?” Legolas asked, his voice hoarse and low. He didn’t raise his head to ask the question.



“If I hadn’t driven you away, this wouldn’t be happening to you.”



“ I ran, Elessar. You did not drive me anywhere,” Legolas pulled back just long enough to make eye contact before settling again, too tired for the moment to even consider holding his head up for long, “The truth is, I was reckless. I had a death wish, and took foolish chances. It’s only surprising I wasn’t killed outright years ago.”



“I’m still sorry,” Aragorn said, continuing to run his fingers lightly through Legolas’s hair, “If I hadn’t hurt you, you wouldn’t have run.. I should have..”



“There’s your problem, human,” Legolas said with a faint, sleepy, smile that Aragorn could feel against the side of his neck, “That attitude is the height of conceit. You are not responsible for me, or the state of my heart. I am certainly old enough to make my own decisions-- and old enough to face their consequences...”



By the end of his little speech, Legolas’s voice was nearly inaudible, as he drifted into exhausted sleep. Not reverie, but true sleep. He didn’t hear Aragorn when he said, voice thick with unshed tears, that he didn’t want to loose him, and he didn’t feel the kiss on his forehead. He did feel the love that was wrapped around him like a physical blanket, buffering the rage of posion curusing through his blood.

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They were still sitting there when Arwen wandered over the next morning. Legolas was curled into Aragorn’s arms, much like Elendi was curled into Arwen’s. Aragorn wondered if the baby weighed more...



“How is he?”



“Tired. Sick. Scared.”



“He looks exhausted,” Arwen said, sitting the baby on the bed and dropping to kneel beside the two men. She unbraided his hair, and then ran her hands through it, freeing it from it’s customary braids. “Those are miserable to sleep in,” She mumbled, half to herself. “Why don't’ you try to get him to bed... He’ll be more comfortable and you need to take care of yourself. Get something to eat, and take a bath.”



“Yes mother,” he quipped, standing carefully with Legolas. When he stood, Legolas groaned and clung to him, hands fisting in his robe.



“Shhhh,” Arwen soothed, stroking his face lightly until he settled.





In spite of themselves, both Aragorn and Arwen smiled. The baby truly seemed to like the elf. There was ...something... between them. It made Legolas’s impeding death all the more-- bitter. Elendi would never remember Legolas, and it was so clear that they would have been-- wonderful together.



They left the two sleeping, and returned to their own rooms, where they bathed and dressed. They were sitting down to breakfast when Legolas appeared in the door way. His hair was still down, and tangled and hanging in his face, but all he was hindered by the baby in his arms.



“I think you misplaced something,” he said and then continued with wry amusement as the babe nuzzled and rooted about, and mouthed as his tunic, “And I think pps wps what he is looking for, Arwen is better equipped to provide than I.”



Aragorn laughed, Arwen blushed, as Legolas settled the baby in her arms, stopping to touch his nose lightly with one long forefinger. Elendi looked up at him, and then his eyes crossed, trying to focus on the finger much too close to his face.



They shared a chuckle, and then Legolas raked a hand through his hair, roughly pulling through the snarls sleep had knotted in his hair. Arwen winced at the sound of hair ripping, as she ate one handed, using the other to hold the baby to her breast so he could eat as well.



“Don’t do that Legolas!” she said with a shudder.



Legolas lifted an eyebrow, folding himself into a chair. “Don’t do what, milady?”



“That ...sound. Aragorn, go get a *brush* and deal with his hair.”



Aragorn blinked. He looked at Arwen who looked at him with a sweet smile that meant she would no sooner relent that Mount Doom would freeze, He looked at Legolas who seemed amused. He stood up and walked into the bed chamber and emerged with Arwen’s brush, muttering something about the King of Gondor, playing lady in waiting.



Legolas shrugged and sat back, slouching down so he could rest his neck on the back of the chair. Aragorn continued muttering uncomplimentary things, as he pulled Legolas’s hair out from between the wood and his neck. In truth, he rather enjoyed the task, and always had. He knew Arwen was well aware of that from the twinkle in her eyes as she looked at him.



Aragorn brushed Arwen’s hair on a regular basis, but this was the first time he’d had to deal with the super fine, golden hair in this state. Fortunately for Legolas, Arwen’s hair tended to tangle as well, and Aragorn had been taught early on how to avoid yanking and pulling through the snarls. In a matter of minutes Legolas’s hair was hanging free and shinning softly in the morning light. He put the brush down behind him, and ran his fingers through the cool, soft, satin, enjoying the feel of it slipping through his fingers.



Realizing what he was doing, he looked up to find Arwen smiling at him. Without speaking she nodded at Legolas. Aragorn looked down, obediently following her gaze. Legolas’s eyes were open, but glazed and unseeing. He’d slipped into reverie.



“Legolas...” Aragorn said quietly, rubbing with a fair amount of pressure up legolas’s neck.



Legolas woke up rather abruptly, and blushed slightly.



“Eat.” Arwen said, pushing a plate of fruit and bread at Legolas.



Legolas looked at the food dubiously, but did as he’d been told, and ate. No one but a fool messed with a mother.

If Arwen said to eat, he’d rather eat and throw up later, than argue with her now.



“What are your plans for the day?” Arwen asked Aragorn.



“Oh I don't’ know. In light of recent new members to the household I thought I’d take some time off. Maybe go riding.” Aragorn said, not looking away from Arwen. If she disapproved, he wanted to know it.



“That sounds like a wonderful plan,” Arwen said with a slight nod, “Maybe Legolas can help you come to terms with that new stallion... or rather help the horse come to terms with you.”



“You don’t have to-” Legolas began, only to be cut off by Aragorn.



“But I want to.”



Legolas held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. The talk of riding and horses brought to mind another matter, “About Abseforth...”



Aragorn lifted an eyebrow, “What about him?”



“Will you--”



“Keep him?” Arwen rescued them when Legolas faltered. He knew he was dying, but he was far from accepting it or being comfortable speaking of it. “Of course we will, though I doubt he’ll be ridden by anyone. Elvish horses don’t take kindly to mortal riders, much less their tack.”



“I know,” Legolas said seriously, “but he’s been my companion for quite some time. Because he isn't likely to allow himself to be ridden, I could not simply assume he would be cared...”...”



“Always,” Aragorn said seriously. He knew just how tightly elves bonded with their horses, particularly those they rode into battle on.



“Good then, that’s settled,” Arwen said, once again saving them from growing too melancholy. “I am going to spend the day in bed with Elendi, and do nothing more strenuous than lifting food to my mouth.”



She punctuated the last words by bitinto ato an apple as she walked toward their bedchamber. “Enjoy your day boys.” she said fondly as she shut the door behind her.



Legolas seemed bemused when he said, “I have never understood females of any species.”



Aragorn grinned wickedly and said, “But you certainly have a way with men.”



Legolas returned the grin, tucking his hair behind his ear, “That’s because you’re a bunch of lecherous creatures with nothing but base thoughts and instincts. It would be rather hard not to understand them.”



“You, my friend, are anything but simple. Lets get out of here before my wife returns and drags us out by our ears like a couple of naughty school boys.”