From All Harm
folder
-Multi-Age › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
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Views:
1,644
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
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Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,644
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
From All Harm
Title: From All Harm
Author: Cheysuli ( cheysuli@gvtc.com )
Summary: Thranduil thinks as he watches over his son.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
A/N: Sequel to ‘All Along’ and ‘More Than I deserve.’ You might want to read those first.
________________________________________
Even in Valinor, healing takes time. I know this. But as I sit watching my son as he naps in the garden, I wish that healing was as instantaneous as the ancient tales implied.
When Legolas had first arrived in the Undying Lands, broken and lost and alone, I had feared that the inevitable had happened; that his husband, Estel, had finally succumbed to mortality.
When Legolas first arrived here, he refused contact with anyone and locked himself in the room I provided for him. He never spoke, never smiled, and never laughed. Every time I had tried to speak to him, he had seemed… numb. Like he wasn’t fully aware of anything around him.
We had learned the hard way not to say certain things around him, for he would often break down at what seemed to us to be an innocent comment. He would cry and shake and curl in on himself and it would sometimes take us hours to calm him down.
After a few weeks, the numbness had started to fade and was soon replaced with anger. His behavior became dangerous and unpredictable. Anyone who came close to him risked being harmed and I often found him in his room, with a wild look in his tear-filled eyes, destroying certain items he had brought with him from Middle-Earth.
It had gotten to the point were I had practically begged - yes, begged! - Elrond to do something. After he had realized exactly how bad the situation was, Elrond had finally relented and gave me a supply of strong sedatives for Legolas. I hated drugging my son, but the fear of him turning self-destructive overcame any guilt I felt.
After that, I turned my attention to discovering the source of his grief, for his actions suggested more than simple sorrow over the death of a lover. I began sneaking into his room at night, after he was drugged into near unconsciousness, and searched through the remains of his possessions. What I found shocked me to the core.
A sketchbook full of drawings of my son and Estel, ripped to shreds. The crystal bird that Estel had given him on his begetting day, shattered. Even his wedding ring looked as if he had tried to destroy it, the silver band black from soot and ash from when it had been thrown into a fire.
Everything that he had destroyed was in some way connected to his husband. From these clues, I began to suspect that Estel had harmed him in some way.
I had almost discarded the thought immediately. Estel loved my son; I could see it in his eyes. What could he have possibly done that would cause my son such pain?
I never did find out. Legolas never spoke of it and I never pressed him. With the help of his family and friends, he was slowly beginning to heal. He still had occasional fits of depression and anger, but they were becoming less frequent as the years passed.
Legolas may never fully heal, even here in Valinor. But at least here, I can keep him safe.
From all harm.
Author: Cheysuli ( cheysuli@gvtc.com )
Summary: Thranduil thinks as he watches over his son.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
A/N: Sequel to ‘All Along’ and ‘More Than I deserve.’ You might want to read those first.
________________________________________
Even in Valinor, healing takes time. I know this. But as I sit watching my son as he naps in the garden, I wish that healing was as instantaneous as the ancient tales implied.
When Legolas had first arrived in the Undying Lands, broken and lost and alone, I had feared that the inevitable had happened; that his husband, Estel, had finally succumbed to mortality.
When Legolas first arrived here, he refused contact with anyone and locked himself in the room I provided for him. He never spoke, never smiled, and never laughed. Every time I had tried to speak to him, he had seemed… numb. Like he wasn’t fully aware of anything around him.
We had learned the hard way not to say certain things around him, for he would often break down at what seemed to us to be an innocent comment. He would cry and shake and curl in on himself and it would sometimes take us hours to calm him down.
After a few weeks, the numbness had started to fade and was soon replaced with anger. His behavior became dangerous and unpredictable. Anyone who came close to him risked being harmed and I often found him in his room, with a wild look in his tear-filled eyes, destroying certain items he had brought with him from Middle-Earth.
It had gotten to the point were I had practically begged - yes, begged! - Elrond to do something. After he had realized exactly how bad the situation was, Elrond had finally relented and gave me a supply of strong sedatives for Legolas. I hated drugging my son, but the fear of him turning self-destructive overcame any guilt I felt.
After that, I turned my attention to discovering the source of his grief, for his actions suggested more than simple sorrow over the death of a lover. I began sneaking into his room at night, after he was drugged into near unconsciousness, and searched through the remains of his possessions. What I found shocked me to the core.
A sketchbook full of drawings of my son and Estel, ripped to shreds. The crystal bird that Estel had given him on his begetting day, shattered. Even his wedding ring looked as if he had tried to destroy it, the silver band black from soot and ash from when it had been thrown into a fire.
Everything that he had destroyed was in some way connected to his husband. From these clues, I began to suspect that Estel had harmed him in some way.
I had almost discarded the thought immediately. Estel loved my son; I could see it in his eyes. What could he have possibly done that would cause my son such pain?
I never did find out. Legolas never spoke of it and I never pressed him. With the help of his family and friends, he was slowly beginning to heal. He still had occasional fits of depression and anger, but they were becoming less frequent as the years passed.
Legolas may never fully heal, even here in Valinor. But at least here, I can keep him safe.
From all harm.