A Healing Touch

Oh. My. God!!! Yes, I finally got this chapter done, I'm sorry. I've been a very bad girl, not updating. We just moved, yes again, and I really haven't had time to write or much else. BTW, if you guys want to know the next time I update, check my livejournal, it will always tell you when I've updated. the address is http://www.livejournal.com/~0ash0/

SPECIAL REQUEST! Does anyone like drawing here? I'd really appreciate it if you guys sent me some fanart that I could post on my site. It could have anything to do with this story, or one of my other fics, just try to make sure it has no more than a PG13 rating, I'm trying to keep this new site I created clean. If it's over PG13 don't worry, I'll post it at the Healing Touch website.

This is the site I'll be posting them on: http://www.geocities.com/ashs_fanfiction/index.html.

REVIEWS:

Frances Rolfe: Aww, thank you very much! I really appreciate that. Not quite over yet, though :)

Sian: lol, so I've noticed. Damn, lately I can't even log in, there's so much traffic. Yep, our dear little Leggy is getting better. Hurray!

MorierBlackleaf: nope, haven't fallen off the face of the Earth... been trapped on an island ;) Yep, I'm a very, very bad girl.

HHS: Yep, our Leggy is almost all better.

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The youngest son of Thranduil glared hatefully across the room at the blank wall in front of him, not even so much as glancing at the Eldar beside him, arms crossed against his chest in an obvious gesture that he was not at all pleased with his current circumstances.

For five days now he had been confined to his chambers, unable to move from his very bed in his weakened state. The physical therapy Elrond was giving him had helped his aching and weak muscles immensely, but he could still only bear so much pressure on his nimble limbs. It was difficult to move, and even a trip to the other side of the chamber was enough to exhaust him.

And so in his feeble condition, he was unable to make his way down the hall and to the privy when his body demanded relief, and too stubborn and proud to simply ring the bell at his side for assistance, he merely lay there, awaiting his lovers return. But despite the demanding pressure on his bladder, his frail person slipped off into another deep healing sleep, and to his mortification, he was awoken not long after by a warm, wet patch dampening his bed dressings.

Now, Glorfindel could only smile as the younger elf frowned with embarrassment, a rosy tinge flushing his cheeks. The expression was quite cute, really, almost bringing the old veteran back to when Legolas was still a mere elfli

*He could glare holes into that wall*, the seneschal mused. A small mewl of amusement managed to escape past his lips at the thought, before re-soaking his cloth in the jug of warm water that rested beside him, and dabbed it down his lover’s lower regions.

“You are laughing at me,” Came the strained voice of the prince, his brows furrowing ever more, and his cheeks flushing deeper.

This time when he glanced up, he met the crystal eyes of the prince, immediately noting the bitterness and hurt in that simple glance. The silvan elf kept his teeth firmly together, a clear indication to Glorfindel of his immense humiliation.

The seneschal shook his head frantically at the accusation, and immediately reached out and clutched the slimmer hand at his side in his own free one. “Nay, Legolas, I was not laughing at you, I would never!” at the young elf’s doubtful expression, he sighed. “I was simply thinking…”

“Yes?”

“That with the intensity of the glower you are giving that wall, you may very well burn a hole right through it.”

Legolas returned his attention to the wall with an annoyed expression, not even bothering to acknowledge the elf lord’s jest. With great exaggeration, Glorfindel squinted, and leaned his head forward, following his bond-mate’s line of sight. “I think I can see one beginning to form already.”

The young elf sighed in irrita, an, and Glorfindel immediately followed suit, all humor he may have previously felt leaving his face. “Oh, come now, Legolas. Surely it cannot be as bad as you make it out to be.”

“It is far worse than you can possibly imagine!” the princeling spat angrily, his patience growing increasingly thin. “Do you not realize how humiliating this is? To be bedridden and expect others to care for you as if you were a young child?”

“Legolas,” the seneschal sighed calmly. “This is not the first time I have taken care of you, nor the first time I have seen you wet the bed for that matter. ‘Tis nothing to be ashamed of, given your current circumstances. I practically raised you, did I not? I remember when you were little, and-”

“I am not little, anymore!” Legolas exclaimed. “I am a grown elf, I should be able to take care of myself. It is degrading to have to rely on someone to assist me with so little a task as to simply relieve myself!”

“I can understand that, meleth. Your feelings are only natural. Nevertheless, you are in no condition to take things into your own hands. You are still recovering, and you will only make things worse for yourself if you continue like this.”

“It is so frustrating,” Legolas cried. “Unable to stand, unable to move. I cannot even step foot onto the balcony! I long for the trees, findfindel, the trees and the song of the birds that nest in their boughs... I miss their comforting presence.”

He then gasped a shuddering breath, fighting the onslaught of tears of repressed frustration that threatened to form, and in that short silence, Glorfindel stared with concern at the younger elf, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.

“I know that you long for your freedom,” the Gondolin warrior slowly started. “And I realize that your hostility is not deliberately aimed at me. You are frustrated to be confined, and embarrassed to appear so vulnerable,” he then raised his hand and stroked his thumb affectionately over the high cheekbone, earning the prince’s attention. “However, I will make you a deal; if you give me your word that you will call for help should you need it, then I will take you outside in the morrow, and we shall spend the evening under your old willow tree.”

Doubt plastered the wood elf’s eyes, and he gazed at his counterpart skeptically. “Elrond will not allow it.”

“I will convince him, melethron-nin, I promise. But only if you do as I say. Understand that I worry for you, and I do not wish to see you hurt. You have suffered enough for the both of us.”

Legolas clearly saw the worry reflected in the bright elven eyes gazing into his own, and the simple action told him of the very suffering his lover withstood all for his sake. He was worried for him, felt his pain. Such was the way of their bond.

With a sigh, the prince finally nodded. “Very well. You have my word.”


“Very good,” Glorfindel sighed with a relieved smile, and squeezed his shoulder affectionately, before reaching for the clean blanket at the foot of the bed and draping it over his lover’s naked form. “Now then, I will be back in a moment. Erestor will be simply livid if those papers he asked for are late.”

The prince nodded, and snuggled back into his pillows as he watched his mate depart, allowing his thoughts to wander.


He did not have a chance to let his thoughts drift very far, for not long after Glorfindel left, a voice from behind the tapestry cleared its throat, hinting for permission to enter the chamber.

“Come.”

At the command, a smootirm irm hand slipped through the curtain pushing it aside, before a tall, lean figure with long, wild hair the colour of flame stepped through, and Legolas grinned at the sight of his closest friend whom he had not seen in years.

“Narofea!”

“Legolas!” the elder elf chuckled, his long legs carrying him several quick strides to his companion’s bed, before all but lunging at him, and burying him in a tight, yet mindful embrace. “Oh, it has been too long, mellon-nin! Thank the Valar you are well.”

The young Sindar chuckled as he returned the hug, momentarily ignoring the ache in his recovering body. “Ai, I have missed you, my friend. Too long it has been, indeed!”

“Aye,” the young warrior grinned as he relented his hold, sitting on the edge of the mattress, his right hand supporting most of his weight. “So, how fares you? You were in a bad way when your father brought you into Imladris days before. Many of us had feared the worst.”

“I apologize for causing concern. I have not been myself, as of late.”

“I understand,” the redhead nodded. “Grief can have an overpowering affect on us, one that we cannot always control.”

Legolas’ head snapped up at that, and his eyes widened worriedly. But before he had chance to voice his worry, Narofea raised his hand in a halting gesture.

“Fear not. None know of your condition, save Erestor and myself, outside of your family, of course. Everyone else believes you were injured in battle. Your secret is safe.”

“You must think me weak,” the prince sighed in dismay, his eyes lowering to his folded hands upon his abdomen. “to succumb to grief so easily.”

“Nay, Legolas, I do not think you weak, at all. To have survived the separation of your lovers for so long is proof enough that you are far from weak. If I had been in your position, I fear I would have fallen into darkness long ago. You are strong, my friend, far stronger than most.”

“You truly believe this?”

“There is no doubt in my mind that what I say is false. I believe, as does everyone else.”

Legolas sighed. “I have missed your counsel, Narofea. Often I had wished for your presence back home. You have always been a comfort to me… that is when you weren’t getting us into trouble.”

“Me??” the warrior exmed med with a chuckle, his mind taking him back to when he and Legolas were but elflings. “As I recall, you were the instigator just as much as I! It was you, after all, whom decided to bring home that troublesome dragon!”

“I shall never live that down, will I?” the younger elf laughed. “And what of you? Do you not recall the time when you lead us into the hear the the forest and we got lost? It took three days before anyone found us.”

For a long while, the two friends sat there, recalling their childhood adventures, and the only sounds coming forth the room were amused voices and joyous laughter. This had been how Erestor had found the two, and the corner of his lips quirked in amusement as he strode in.

“I see that you are feeling better, Legolas.”

“Erestor!” the prince greeted. “How do you fare?”

“Quite well, thank you. And yourselThe The councillor greeted in kind as he approached the bed, instinctively placing a hand at the small of his lover’s back.

The prince smirked at the unconscious show of affection, but chose not to speak of it. Erestor was a very private elf, after all, and it would not do to make him self-conscious of these displays of emotion, especially when his comrade seemed to be fond of the physical contact, whom was now instinctively leaning into the touch.

It was good to see these two people so happy, even if they were unaware of it, themselves. The usually firm and stoic chief councillor seemed to have a light in his eyes that he had never seen before, and his childhood companion wore a smile akin to one of a small elfling whom had just found some magnificent treasure. There was warmth surrounding the two, and Legolas was more than happy for the unlikely pair.

“I am much better, now, thank you.”

“That is well. You gave us quite the scare, you know. We thought the worst when we saw you unconscious in that carriage.”

“So I was told,” The prince replied, sharing a brief glance with his companion before returning his attention to the advisor. “Truly, I am fine. You need not worry.”

Erestor’s features were doubtful despite the younger elf’s reassurances. He was well aware that Legolas was still physically impaired, and though Glorfindel had not told him the complete story of the incident that morning, leaving out information that he deemed was far too personal, he knew better than to underestimate the Mirkwood elf’s stubborn nature. After all, he had been witness to his maturation.

“Should you need anything,” he sighed, pointing his nose to the small bell on the corner of the end-table. “do not hesitate to call.”

Legolas felt the need to roll his eyes at Erestor’s protective streak, though he fought the urge. The councillor could deny it all he wished, but the prince knew by experience that he could be overprotective, though he showed this through eccentric ways.

The advisor then turned to face his beloved, the shine in his eyes Legolas had seen in them earlier increasing just at the sight of his companion.

“And you, my dear, how are you?”

“Wonderful,” Narofea grinned. “Legolas and I were just discussing the days of our youth, and the many times we drove you to the brink of madness.”

“You enjoyed the torment you both caused me, didn’t you?”

“Immensely,” Legolas smiled.

“Oh, how I long for those days, again,” Narofea chuckled, and Erestor scowled at them both.

“Ai, you are both still intent on making me miserable, aren’t you? This old elf can only bear so much, nowadays, you know.”

“Nay, Erestor, you are not as old as you think,” Legolas laughed, before adding, “Youthfully impaired is a better word.”

“Watch your tongue, elfling,” Erestor snapped in mock annoyance. “Do not think I will go easy on you simply because you are rendered immobile.”

Legolas merely grinned at his former teacher. “Worry not, dear Erestor. I know better than to underestimate your fine capabilities.”

“As do I,” Narofea smirked. “and I know that from experience.”

Legolas could not believe it. For all the years that he had known Elrond’s major-domo, he had always known him to be passive of the razzing comments directed his way, and therefore he was nearly shocked to see Erestor’s reaction at the simple comment his lover was hinting at. Erestor, chief councillor to Elrond Peredhil, blushed.

()()()()

Evening had come and gone, a new day bringing forth the bright rays of Anor. This day was particularly lovely, the weather was mild at a comfortable temperature, and the birds sang in their roosts with all the melody and joy their little hearts were gifted with.

Legolas’ mood seemed particularly improved this day, and his throbbing limbs seemed no more than a memory. Though hell hll had difficulty walking, he showed little sign of agitation.

There were several reasons for his good mood this day, the dulling ache being one of them, the other being Elrond’s agreement to allow him outside, whom had even agreed to join Glorfindel and himself in the gardens.

And ssk fsk found the trio under the ancient willow tree by the small, calm lake in Elrond’s gardens, where the three of them watched the large bright sun set in the vibrant colours of the evening sky.

Glorfindel sat with his back against the ancient trunk of the tree, while Legolas was set between his legs, his back resting against his powerful chest. Elrond sat beside them, shoulder to shoulder with the seneschal, his own back also resting against the tree’s massive trunk.

Distant sounds could easily be heard in the quiet peace, the chirping of the crickets, the rustling of the leaves and grass in the mild breeze, the twittering of the birds, and the absent whinnying of a horse.

A group of foxes could be seen in the short distance upon a small hill. A femaled lad lazily in the tall grass watching over her young as the three kits romped around in the deep foliage, playfully tackling one another and bounding around under the careful protection of their alert mother.

A content sigh slowly escaped the prince’s lips as he watched the playful canines, absently stroking the firm hands that surrounded him and coupled at his stomach.

“How I have missed this place. ‘Tis wonderful to be back home.”

A smile captured Glorfindel’s lips, and he tightened his hold possessively about the prince, bringing their bodies more firmly together. “It was not home without you, Legolas. It seemed so empty here without your presence. Even the trees appeared inert without you here to speak to them. We have all missed you.”

“I cannot remember a time when Imladris seemed so lifeless,” Elrond agreed as he gazed around him at the activeness of the land. “All is well again.”

“Yes,” Glorfindel murmured. “For now, at least.”

Though the words sounded troubled and quiet, Elrond would have been able to sense his elder lover’s distress had he not spoken. The elf lord’s brow furrowed as he assessed the golden-haired veteran, noting the worrisome features on his normally joyous face, as he held the young prince in almost a protective manner.

Legolas too, was not oblivious to the tension in Glorfindel’s demeanor, and he glanced at his darker haired beau with confusion.

“Something troubles you, love,” the loremaster implied knowingly. “What is it?”

The seneschal snapped his head around to stare at the other elf, and suddenly seemed conscious of what he had just said. He hesitated, and simply shook his head. “‘Tis nothing. Forgive this old elf and his wayward tongue, I did not mean to spoil the mood.”

“Nay, Glorfindel. If something is bothering you I wish to hear you out.”

“Aye, as do I,” the prince agreed, leaning his head back to better view the Gondolin warrior’s face. “please, Glorfindel, tell us what ails you.”

He was quiet for a moment, carefully composing his thoughts in a way that he could voice them properly. “I was simply thinking… What is to happen when Legolas is forced to leave us again? Surely he cannot stay here forever. He does have responsibilities at home. It would be impossible for him to remain here the rest of his life till we decide to sail to the Und Lan Lands. What if he were to have a relapse?”

Elrond nodded in understanding. It was only natural that they would wonder about such an occurrence. “Legolas was nearly felled from his grief only because he went so long a time without our presence. He would not have survived much longer had Thranduil not brought him here. I believe as long as we see each other, even infrequently, he will be alright.

“Do not forget that we parted on difficult terms. We had just won a treacherous battle, Legolas and I had been taken captive by orcs not long before that, and he was just coming to terms with his responsibilities as a prince of Mirkwood. That is much pressure on someone so young.”

“I admit that it was more stressful than I let on,” the prince confessed. “but those days are no more.”

“Do not think you have found your place in the world just yet, penneth,” Elrond warned. “I sense darkness beginning to stir again, evil is in the midst of creeping back into the world. You may very well be a part of something murandrander than you think.”

“Is there something you are not telling me?” Legolas inquired. He was not frightened, merely curious.

“I cannot say for certain,” the elf lord replied. “all I can tell you is that the elves will have some part to play in this Middle-Earth before we depart it forever.”

He sighed then, and shook his head as if to clear it. “Do not worrit you mind over it now, Legolas. Whatever it is, it will not happen for ng tng time, yet.”

The prince merely nodded, before gazing out again towards the horizon.

The sun had fully descended from the sky now, only a pale light lingering in the distance as the stars began to appear in the darkened sky, and as the three lovers sat there long into the night, content in each others peaceful company, they gazed above at the glittering jewels massing across the heavens.

()()()()

meleth- love
penneth- young one
mellon-nin: my friend

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Not too pleased with this chapter, personally. Well, at least I got it done.

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