A Healing Touch

Hey, guys, long time no see. Yeah... that's my fault, I know. How many people are still actually keeping up with this story? Anyone? Anywho, sorry for the long wait (again) Quite a bit's been happening in the last few months.. got a kitty, my grandmotheent ent a while in the hospital and then died last monday, so yeah... sorry.

REVIEWS:

MorierBlackleaf: hehe *blushes* yeah, sorry. I know I've been slow. I will personally see to it that I am severely punished. No chocolate for a week. I won't exactly continue to the point where Legolas and the others leave Middle-earth with this particular story, but I will be writing a few vignets following after this fic that will be posted on my website if they have less than an R rating. Hey, got any more booz? Wanna share the wealth?

Sian: Heh, glad you liked it. I thought the idea of Erestor of all people blushing would be pretty cute.

eroby: Glad to know my work is missed. Goes to show that people are still actually enjoying it. Lol, I thought the beginning of the last chapter was kinda cute... in a weird sort of way. Just the whole idea of Glorfindel taking care of Legolas..

HHS: yes, good aff.net. I shall give it a cookie ^_^ oh I dunno... maybe he will stay in Rivendell for a while *walks away whistling*

louise_oblique: YAY!! I'm happy for you. I think I'd go mad without the internet... it's very addicting. ty ^_^ *hugs*

()()()()


Anor glittered brightly in the clear blue sky on one fine morning in Imladris, and as the leaves in a multiple array of shades of brown, red and gold fell from the trees with the coming autumn, Legolas walked along the garden path in silent contemplation of the days before.

He was now nearly fully recovered, able to walk un-pained except for a slight limp in his right ankle, the only part of his body that had yet to heal, and though lord Elrond insisted he use a cane to aid him, he stubbornly refused, determined to prove to himself as much as everyone else, that he was as capable as he had always been.

He had missed the fresh air of the outdoors and the scent of the dew upon the flora and fauna in the early mornings, and to be able to actually make his way outside without assistance was bliss among its self. And with winter so near, he would have little chance to enjoy the foliage that would slowly go into hibernation with the coming cold, and to ride under the colourful canopy of the trees, to which he was heading to do now, in fact.

Legolas had planned with Elladan and Elrohir to go riding on the forest trails the night before, seeing as both Elrond and Glorfindel had much work to catch up on, andugh ugh the elf lord was reluctant to let his young charge go when he was only beginning to heal, he eventually gave in to the prince’s insistent pleading. It was not only a matter of proving himself capable to the sylven elf, it was also a matter of pride. He was young, and in some cases arrogant, as most young ones were. But he was also strong-willed, and to be treated like a child was of great insult to him. He needed his independence, anything less would greatly damage his esteem and his pride.

Making his way to the stables, he gracefully leapt into the air to pick one of the last apples dangling from the branch of a tree for his equine companion, wincing slightly as he landed back on the leafy ground. He ignored the aggravation the jolt had caused in his ankle however, and continued on.

The twins whom had arrived shortly before him, greeted him warmly as they groomed their steeds. Though it was not required of them to tend to their own horses, they much enjoyed it, for it was a good way to bond with the animal, proving the riders trustworthy.

“Good morning, Legolas,” Elrohir acknowledged him cheerfully, while running a currycomb through the gelding’s mane. “Lovely day, is it not?”

“Aye, it is.” The younger elf replied. He then noticed a sack at the Noldo’s feet, and stared at him questioningly. He noticed the hesitation before Elrohir actually opened his mouth to speak.

“A simple precaution… should anything bad befall us.”

Legolas’ brow furrowed, and he crouched down to inspect the bag, pulling aside the flap and gazing down, using his hand to fish through the items, noting medical herbs and supplies, and also several of the same bottled medicines he had been taking for the past several days to heal his injuries. He then looked up and glared at the younger twin.

“Elrohir…”

“Oh, please don’t be angry, Legolas, we do not intend to upset you.”

“Father insisted we take them, mellon-nin, for your own wellbeing,” Elladan persisted, pausing fpickpicking his horse’s hooves. “We will only give them to you if needed. Please do not let this turn your mood sour, we only wish to ensure your safety.”

The young prince rose to his feet with a sigh, ma his his way to his mare’s stall, absently tossing his apple from one hand to another. “Oh, how I wish to Eru you would all cease in worrying over me. I am well now, and out of danger.”

“You are still limping,” Elrohir pointed out.

“‘Tis naught but a superficial wound,” the prince insisted, unlatching the stall door while Skylenar obediently walked to the center of the hallway. Taking a brush, Legolas began grooming his mare’s back. “I will be fine.”

Legolas’ ears barely caught Elladan’s muttered words regarding stubbornness and vanity, but chose to ignore it.

The dappled mare quietly nickered to her master, sniffing insistently at his clutched hand, and the wood-elf smiled as he presented the fruit to her. “Ah yes, my dear, I had nearly forgotten. Here…” The mare bit into the crunchy apple appreciatively, chewing noisily with content as Legolas went to fetch her tack.

Retrieving a simple halter with a set of reins, he dressed his horse before nimbly mounting her, the twins doing likewise after the younger brother swung the pack over his shoulder. Ducking their heads as they exited the barn, they made their way onto the peaceful forest path.

()()()()()

“Elrond?”

The master of Imladris raised his head from his paperwork and momentarily stilled his hand from writing notes, giving the Mirkwood lord his full attention.

“Am I disturbing you?”

“Not at all, Thranduil. Please,” He motioned to a chair in front of his desk. “have a seat.”

The golden haired elf hesitated in the doorway a moment, before slowly crossing the room and perching himself on the seat Elrond had motioned to. He seemed uncomfortable, and for a moment stared into his lap. With a sigh he glanced at the oak desk in front of him, noting the disarray of scrolls and envelopes that covered it.

“Catching up on some paperwork, I presume?” he started conversationally. The Noldo elf nodded.

“I have put off far too much work for long enough. With Legolas’ injuries to heal I haven’t had much time to tend to other matters. Now that he is nearly recovered I can see to them.”

“I apologize for making things difficult for you. ‘Twas not my intent.”

“I do not holu reu responsible, Thranduil, you’ve no need to ask forgiveness. To save a life is more important than anything else. Legolas is alive and well, that is all that matters.”

“Yes, well… thank you… for everything.”

“You’re quite welcome.” Elrond took a moment to dip his quill in a small jar of ink, scribbling down a final note on a piece of paper in his flowing, elegant hand. “I am certain you did not just come here to thank me.”

“Nay, actually, I did not.” The elf lord glanced up, and again Thranduil paused before speaking. “As you know the winter months will soon be approaching, and thus closing the high pass.”

“Aye.”

“And my kingdom, though under the good and responsible rule of my eldest son, still needs its king to take care of it.”

Elrond was quiet. He knew very well what the Sindar elf was getting at. “You are leaving,” he implied.

“Yes.”

“When?”

“We cannot afford to wait much longer. I was thinking… in two days, perhaps.”

The dark haired lord pursed his lips and nodded, leaning back in his chair, a troubled look beginning to pull on his features. “Have you discussed this with your sons?”

“I have just finished speaking to Tallen of it. However… whether Legolas chooses to come with us is his decision. Though he has healed dramatically, pain is still there.”

“He still has a slight limp in his right ankle--”

“I was not referring to his physical injuries, Elrond,” Their eyes met then, gazing into each other in a not unfriendly manner, but in a mutual understanding. “Though I would much prefer him at home with his family, I fear that he might have a relapse if he were to leave you so soon after he has hea I w I would have him stay here over the winter in your capable hands.”

The room was deathly silent for a moment, and Elrond’s suddenly dry lips parted as he slowly inhaled with what could only be described as relief. “I am certain that Glorfindel will be pleased to hear of this.”

“As are you?” Thranduil smirked, and Elrond shared the close-mouthed smile.

“Yes,” he replied. “As am I.”

()()()()()

“Oh, honestly, Erestor, you’re taking this far too seriously.”

“Glorfindel,” the councillor seethed, whirling around on the Balrog slayer with pure malice in his dark eyes. “don’t you even dare tell me I am taking this too seriously! I have every right to be angry at this moment.”

“‘Tis not as if I did it on purpose. How many times must I apologize?”

“You destroyed weeks of research! The least you could have done was ask first!”

“Well how was I supposed to know that piece of parchment was of value? The scripture on it was messy and not your usual fancy writing…”

“I was taking notes!!”

“Look,” the seneschal sighed as he gently grabbed his co-worker’s wrist to still them from their rampage down the hall. “I promise that I will make it up to you. I will re-write everything if I must.”

“How do you plan on achieving that? Fishing it out of the privy? You don’t even know what was written on that parchment. And I was so close to finishing it.”

“I couldn’t hold it!” Glorfindel argued, then realizing the rise in his voice, spoke in lower tones, blushing slightly. “and I could find nothing else to use. What would you have had me do?”

Erestor growled through his teeth, resuming his tirade down the hall. “You’re impossible.”

Glorfindel sighed as his companion left his side, before turning the opposite direction heading towards Erestor’s study, intent on righting the wrongs he had committed. An enraged major-domo was the last thing he needed on his hands at the moment.

Lord Elrond’s chief councillor forcefully pushed past the doors leading into the courtyard, rounding the balcony and down the first flight of steps. But as his feet made way to descend the second level, an arm shot out from the side and pulled him back onto a small niche, before the figure placed a forceful kiss on the tense Noldo’s lips.

Narofea then gazed into the surprised eyes of his lover, a small smile quirking his thin pink lips. “What seems to be the matter, love?”

“Oh… Narofea,” he sighed in relief. Taking a moment to collect his thoughts, Erestor sighed. “Let us just say Glorfindel’s arse has landed him in trouble… literally.”

“Ah, I see. And is that why you are charging down the stairs with a livid expression upon your face, frightening enough to have even the Witch King, himself, flee in terror?”

“Aye,” he breathed. “to put it in such terms…”

“Hmm… Mayhap I can help,” the redhead mused with a growingly devious grin. “You seem tense, melethron.”

Slowly, the lithe hands rose up along the advisor’s body, kneading the firm shoulders until they became flax and relaxed. Erestor’s eyes drooped shut in pure bliss at the soothing sensation, but snapped quickly open a moment later when the same demanding lips that had taken claim of his own not minutes before, were now laying light nips on a pale shoulder. His breathing became raspy as they traveled up his neck, before they were back on his own dark lips, and before he could do anything about it, he found himself pressed against a wall as his mate’s mouth ravaged his own.

“Narofea,” he tried to protest, gently stilling two arms that clung to his tunic. “not here, we will be caught. Let us return to our chamber.”

“But I cannot wait,” the younger elf complained, before claiming his lover’s lips again. “I want you here, now.”

With the youngster’s body pressed so firmly to his own, Erestor could easily feel both their needs poking against each other’s thighs through the tight clothing. He took Narofea by the arms and stilled him again, staring firmly into his glazed hazel eyes for a long moment, before switching their positions so that the red haired elf was against the wall with him now taking charge of the kiss, as well as their current position.

()()()()

Their ride had gone considerably well. In fact there had been no mishaps at all, and Legolas found himself more lighthearted now than he had been that morning. Perhaps a ride in the wilderness with his friends was all he had needed.

Returning to the stables a guard had been present, asking Legolas to see king Thranduil immediately.

“Go on,” Elrohir had said. “We shall tend to your horse. Best not keep your father waiting.”

Rounding a corner intent on going through the courtyard doors, Legolas stopped mid-stride, eyes growing dramatically wide and his lips slightly parted as a rather shocking scene meant only to be taken place in the privacy of the bed chamber presented its self before his unwilling eyes.

Narofea was pressed up against a wall by his lover, his fiery head buried into his shoulder, and his legs wrapped firmly around the other’s hips, murmuring muffled exclamatories as Erestor thrust against him, stifling panting moans of his own.

Fighting against the sudden blush that was most likely covering the entire expanse of his body, Legolas silently crept away, mentally noting to berate his friend about both the acceptable and unacceptable places to consummate one’s love.

Reaching Elrond’s library, where the guard had told him Thranduil would be, Legolas slowly peered his head into the large room and noticing his sire sitting in a large oak chair, he took a step in before pausing in the entrance.

“Father.”

“Have a seat, Legolas. We must talk.”

The prince’s features became concerned as he slowly walked over to join his father on the chair opposite to him. He sat down across from him, never taking his eyes off his father’s own identical orbs.

“What is it, adar?”

Thranduil sighed as he stared down at the wgoblgoblet he held in his hands, a single finger tapping lightly against it during the short silence.

“The cold season grows closer every day, my son. ‘Tis crucial that we return home ere the gap of Rohan closes up with snow. We take our leave the morning after tomorrow.”

The young elf’s expression was crestfallen, and his eyes lowered to the floor. “I see,” was his silent response.

Darting out a pink tongue to moisten his dry lips, the elven lord continued. “Your brother and I have discussed it… and we think that mayhap you should remain here. If you so wish it, of course.”

“Truly?” Legolas nearly gasped as his head shot back up to stare his father in the eye with disbelief written across his face. “You would allow me this choice?”

“Yes,” Thranduil nodded his head once. “You are a prince of Mirkwood, but you are also my son, and I only wish to see you happy and safe. Your responsibilities can wait till next autumn when you return home with us. But the choice is yours. Do you wish to stay?”

The prince hesitated but only a moment. “Yes,” he breathed. “Yes, I do.”

The king nodded. “Very well. I shall inform Tallen and lord Elrond at evening meal, tonight.”

“Adar, I appreciate you giving me this choice. I thank you.”

A small smile crossed Thranduil’s lips, and he cupped his son’s cheek affectionately. “You have been good to your kingdom, and to your family, Legolas. You have well earned it. Now,” he said, rising to his feet, and his son following his lead as they walked side by side into the hall. “Go and change out of your riding garb and tell me how your trip went.”

()()()()

Elrond had thrown a feast in Thranduil’s honor the night before his and Tallen’s departure. There was music and merrymaking, and an array of different rich desserts. After which, the household gathered in the Hall of Fire and there was much chatter while Glorfindel recounted tales of old. There they had sat long into the night until most of them could keep their eyes from glazing over no longer.

Legolas had joined his father in his guest quarters afterwards, simply talking and enjoying the time they had left in each other’s company until the prince had gradually fallen asleep, head resting in Thranduil’s lap. For a long time the Mirkwood king merely gazed down into his sleeping chi rel relaxed face, absently fiddling with a lock of hair in one hand, contemplating on the future.

A year was no long wait for an elf in their ageless lives, but still the parting would be difficult. At least this time Thranduil would feel no guilt for leaving his son here in Rivendell, which had become his second home.

He did not recall falling asleep, but his eyes slowly cleared nevertheless as the bright rays of Anor lit up the dark sky, accompanied by the twittering of birds.

It was not long before Thranduil and his guards were mounted upon their steeds and ready for departure. His eyes lingered on his youngest son, and suddenly he recalled the very first time he had left Legolas here in Elrond’s care. This time, at least, the prince stayed behind out of free will and for his love of the two elven lords on either side of him at the very moment.

“Farewell,” he finally spoke. “till we reunite next autumn, my son.”

“Namarie, adar,” Legolas replied, touching his breast with his palm and extending it outward.

“Namarie, muindor-tithen,” Tallen said with a smile. “I shall see you again soon.”

“Till then, my brother,” the younger prince shared his sibling’s smile.

Sharing a last, lingering glance with his son, Thranduil turned his horse around and with a powerful, clear command, lead his soldiers out of the courtyard and back in the direction of their homeland.

Legolas stared into the distance long after the galloping hooves faded from earshot, and he sighed as the rising dust drifted through the air. Feeling a light pressure on his right shoulder, he turned his head and met Glorfindel’s gentle smile and could not help but share it. He then turned his head, meeting Elrond’s own comforting beam, and together the three elves turned and walked back into the Last Homely House in each other’s serene company.

Later that night, the three of them joined their fellow elves in the Halls of Fire where Lindir played a beautiful, calming melody on his lute. Erestor and Narofea sat together on a windowsill in each other’s embrace, and Elladan stood in a corner while his twin crouched beside him, both with mugs in hand. The young prince and the two elf lords each took a seat on the large marble steps, albeit a bit closer than necessary to one another, enjoying the peaceful tranquility that filled the room.

Legolas’ head rested upon the Balrog slayer’s shoulder, allowing the peaceful music to flow through his delicate ears, opening his eyes slightly as the other elf’s voice whispered into one of them, momentarily distracting him from the tune.

“Enjoying yourself, melethron-nin?”

“Aye,” he sighed with the hint of a smirk. “immensely.”

“I thought so,” Glorfindel chuckled silently. “Were you a kitten you would be purring at this moment.”

The Sylven elf made a small noise of contentment, and snuggled his head closer against the seneschal’s chest. “I have missed this,” he murmured. “The three of us being together, enjoying ourselves.”

“As have we,” Elrond replied next to him with a smile. “I have longed for us to be together like this for a long time, now. The burdens of my heart feel very much lifted.”

“Aye,” Glorfindel agreed. “Let us hope it stays this way forever.”

“Even if not forever,” Elrond said, “at least Iluvatar has given us this night. Let us enjoy it, and make good use of it.”

“Yes,” Legolas whispered. “I am only grateful that I have the both of you to share this night with, moreover all others.”

Both elf lords shared a heartfelt look, their eyes speaking the same words. Squeezing his younger lover’s hand with his own, Elrond replied; “As are we, my love. As are we… now and forever.”

The stars twinkled brightly over the peaceful city of Imladris in the clear night sky, and only the simple melody of the crickets could be heard outside the House of Elrond. The future held a difficult task for Legolas, and would one day part him from his beloved home, but for now he was content in the love he shared with Elrond half-elven, and the Balrog slayer, Glorfindel. And though their paths would one day lead them astray from one another, they would see each other again, renewing their love for each other on the white shores of Valinor. But until that day arrived, Legolas would spend many a day with his two lovers, and in these peaceful days he was happy.

()()()()()

mellon-nin: my friend (I would be shocked if you didn't know what that meant by now)
ion-nin: my son
melethron-nin: my beloved

()()