Author's Notes:

Hi:) Here I am again with the promised new story!

This story was written for a friend who is suffering from severe headaches from time to time. I would not advise to read it when you currently have a headache. ;-)

"A Headache" participated in the happiness/unhappiness Teitho contest and won the third place.

I hope you enjoy and I would love to get feedback. :) I should perhaps mention that there is a tiny little insignificant cliffie at the end of this chapter… (runs and hides) :D

Thank you to Terri, Alinah and my dear editor, Imbecamiel! (((hugs)))

Title: A Headache

Author: Silivren Tinu

Summary: Legolas has a bad headache, and he soon discovers that things are a lot worse than they appear… Angst, friendship. Also featuring Aragorn and Thranduil.

Series: Mirkwood Tales (working title)

Rating: K+

Disclaimer: The characters and places in this story belong to the one and only J.R.R. Tolkien. I do not own any of them… (sniff)


A Headache


It hurt.

Legolas resisted the temptation to bury his aching head in his hands. His headache was getting worse. It felt as if someone was trapped inside of his head, and trying to crack his skull open to get out. A very determined, obstinate someone. A dwarf with an axe, perhaps.

Legolas needed all his strength and concentration to keep his face straight and calm. He would neither wince nor groan nor show any other sign of weakness while he was in one of his father's council meetings. He tried to concentrate on the words of the delegate who was currently speaking, but the throbbing in his head distracted him so much that most of the words went unheard.

He decided that the being in his head had to be a dwarf with a blunt axe and a lot of enthusiasm. It did not help at all that attending a council meeting would be enough to give him a headache on a normal day. To enter said meeting and already have a headache had been a very bad idea.

Again he tried to concentrate on the words and realized that his father was speaking this time. He gave a soft sigh of relief when he heard Thranduil close the meeting for the day. He rose gingerly and somehow managed not to sway or close his eyes in spite of the very unpleasant way his head reacted to his movement. He felt his father's gaze on him, but he refused to turn or look at him. Thranduil had enough to do now, talking to the delegates and see that this day's decisions were put into action. Legolas would not allow him to worry about a simple headache.

He left the meeting room slowly and tried to ignore the way his head pounded with each step he took. This headache probably had something to do with the orc that had smashed him into a tree some twelve hours ago, he mused. His head had taken most of the impact then, both from the tree and from the blunt side of the orc's scimitar. The wound had been tended to, but only because Aragorn had threatened to knock him out again and sit on him until the healer had finished his work. Legolas had refused to rest afterwards. After all, there had been an orc attack and a council meeting to be taken care of.

Legolas came to a dead stop when a sudden thought broke through the layers of pain and fatigue that had wrapped themselves around his mind. Aragorn! Knowing exactly how bored his friend would be after one of those dreaded council meetings, Aragorn would usually await him afterwards and try to cheer him up again. The elf turned around, suppressing a wince when a sudden stab of pain went through his head and the corridor seemed to tilt.

Sure enough, after his vision had cleared he caught sight of a confused-looking Aragorn, who stood in front of the open door of the council chamber, his gaze fixed on his friend. Legolas realized that he must have passed the human by without even noticing his presence. He managed a sheepish smile, but the grey eyes of the ranger had already narrowed and seemed to bore into him.

Legolas sighed. His headache seemed to increase, as if the intensity of the ranger's gaze somehow added to the pain. A moment later Aragorn stood in front of him, his eyes never leaving the elf's face.

"What is wrong?" the man asked, concern and firm determination evident in his voice.

"Nothing," Legolas answered quickly. "I am fine." The only thing he needed right now was to get away from prying eyes and catch up on some much-needed rest. There was no need to worry Aragorn, his father, or anyone else because of such a little thing as a headache. Even if it felt like his head was going to explode any moment now - or be split open by the blunt axe of this insistent dwarf. At that particular moment Legolas felt a strong dislike towards the whole race of the dwarves. He wanted to close his eyes. Why did the light have to be so bright?

"I do not believe you," Aragorn stated quietly. There was gentle concern in his eyes, and he watched his friend closely. He knew he could not push or force Legolas when the elf decided to be stubborn. He could only be honest.

"I do not like to see you like this. Please, won't you tell me what troubles you, mellon-nîn?" he asked softly. ((my friend))

Legolas felt caught in the ranger's gaze. He could not hide, and he could not escape the worry he saw in those familiar eyes. He could not bear to worry his friend needlessly.

"It is nothing to worry about," he conceded. "Just a headache."

Aragorn tilted his head slightly and eyed him doubtfully. Before he could say anything however, a third voice interrupted their conversation. It made Legolas wince slightly.

"You were in pain and did not tell me, ion-nîn?" ((my son))

This time Legolas closed his eyes. First Aragorn, now his father. Did he have to have bad luck on top of this headache?

"Adar, it was only a headache," he protested weakly. ((father))

Thranduil put his hands on his son's shoulders and turned him around. He did not like the pain he saw in those usually bright blue eyes. He sighed and shook his head. "You do not have to attend a council meeting when you do not feel well, my son," he scolded gently.

Legolas stayed quiet. They would have believed nothing he could have said anyway, and the dull throbbing in his head seemed to intensify.

"It's the head wound, isn't it?" asked Aragorn and touched the light bandage around the elf's head gently. Legolas flinched at the light touch and could not entirely stifle a gasp.

The human and the elf king exchanged a look of shared concern and silent understanding.

"I need to look at this, Legolas," Aragorn stated firmly.

"I want you to go with him," Thranduil added in a calm, authoritative voice before Legolas could protest any further. "I could order you as your king." He raised an eyebrow and looked at his son as if daring him to resist.

Legolas snapped his mouth shut and glared at both of them. "This is not necessary," he said reluctantly.

"Of course not!" Aragorn agreed with a triumphant smile.

Legolas started to shake his head, but thought better of it and allowed his persistent friend to take his arm and drag him away. He felt his father's watchful eyes on his back. He had taken no more than one or two steps when the ground under his feet started tilting again.

The pain inside his head multiplied, and he concluded dazedly that the dwarf had finally found a way to break through. He felt himself falling, but the impact never came. There were hands that caught him, and voices calling him. The voices sounded familiar, and the alarm in them made him struggle against the pain and the darkness for a moment before he finally gave in. He fell into a bottomless black abyss, and this time there were no hands to catch him.

To be continued…