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Here's the second and last chapter of my story, I hope you enjoy and I would love to get feedback:)
I do not know yet what the next story will be and when it will come, but I hope it will be soon! As usual, I will announce any new stories in my profile (English stories section).
Disclaimer: See Chapter One.
A Headache: Chapter Two
There were far away voices somewhere in the blackness. He could not understand what they were saying, but now and then he caught a single word or two. "Legolas…" Someone seemed to be calling, or asking, and he wished that this "Legolas" would just answer so he could find peace again. "…poison…" This word sparked his interest for a fleeting moment. Had someone been poisoned? He wondered if it could be him, but as he remembered neither who he was, nor what had happened to him, he wasn't really interested in knowing more about it.
Apart from the voices, there was only pain, rising and ebbing and pulsing through him in a steady rhythm. Someone groaned. The voices were quieter now, comforting, soothing and strangely familiar. He calmed and slowly drifted away into the darkness once more.
When he awoke the next time, his head was clear and the pain all but gone. He blinked and looked at the rays of early sunlight falling into his room and onto his face. The warmth felt good, and he greeted the new day with a smile. The birds sang and the trees of the forest whispered to him.
His memories were a bit hazy, and for some reason he was surprised to feel so well. He remembered something about a dwarf, Aragorn and Thranduil. He frowned. It made no sense, his father would never allow a dwarf to be in the palace. There was definitely something else he should remember. He was still trying to sort through his muddled memories when a movement to his side caught his attention. He turned his head and looked directly into Aragorn's face.
He smiled again. The human sat slumped over in a chair, in a position that seemed highly uncomfortable to the elf's eyes. Aragorn's face seemed pale and drawn, and it was obvious that he hadn't gotten much sleep. At this moment Legolas knew that he must have been injured, and suddenly he remembered the headache, the council session, his conversation with Aragorn… and then, nothing. He must have passed out. How could he have passed out because of a simple headache?
The human's eyelids fluttered, as if he felt the gaze of the elf, and then his eyes opened and locked onto Legolas'. For a moment, both of them froze, one curious, the other shocked.
Then Aragorn's eyes lit up with joy and he jumped up so quickly that his cramped muscles loudly protested against the rough treatment. He ignored them and sat down on the edge of Legolas' bed.
"You are awake," he said with a smile.
Legolas tried to raise himself into a sitting position, but Aragorn caught his shoulders and held him down.
"You will stay exactly where you are now until I say otherwise!" he said in a stern voice, but there was still relief in his eyes.
He sounded so much like Lord Elrond that Legolas obeyed instinctively.
"It was only a headache, Aragorn!" he protested, still a bit embarrassed that he had passed out like this.
Aragorn shook his head slowly, and his face paled a bit as he remembered the moment when Legolas had collapsed into his arms, and the long night that had followed.
"It was no simple headache, mellon-nîn," he answered quietly. "You were poisoned." ((my friend))
"Poisoned?" Legolas eyes widened in disbelief. "How could I have been poisoned?"
"The orc's scimitar," Aragorn explained. "The small scratch on your forehead was enough. The poison must have been on the blade. A slow working, rare kind of poison. We could have lost you this night, Legolas."
It was the first time that Aragorn was actually grateful that Elrond had made him learn the remedies to all kinds of orc poisons after another near-fatal incident involving orcs, himself and the twins. He made a mental note to thank Elrond for his insistence when he returned. After all, this knowledge had saved Legolas' life.
The elf stared back at him, stunned. Suddenly everything made sense. He closed his eyes for a moment and opened them again as he felt Aragorn lean over him.
The ranger cupped the elf's face in his hands and held his gaze. "If you ever feel anything like this again, anything out of the ordinary, tell me," he pleaded softly. "Never scare me like this again."
Legolas' eyes softened and he nodded. "I did not know," he said, a silent apology in his eyes.
Aragorn smiled, but the elf could still see the traces of fear in his face. The ranger released him and straightened up again.
"Where is adar?" Legolas asked some minutes later. It wasn't like Thranduil to leave his son when his condition was this grave. ((father))
Instead of an answer Aragorn simply tilted his head. Legolas followed the direction of the small movement and found Thranduil in a chair on the other side of the bed, sagged against the wall in a very unkingly manner and looking even more uncomfortable than Aragorn had. Legolas chuckled softly and looked fondly at his father. The king had been overworked and tired before, but this night must have completely exhausted him.
The elf looked back at his friend and saw the amused sparkle in Aragorn's eyes.
"He really seems to need this sleep," the ranger remarked. "Just like his son. You never know when to take care of yourselves."
Legolas couldn't deny the truth in Aragorn's words, but he glared at his friend nonetheless. Aragorn grinned back.
"I'm so glad that you are back to your usual annoying self," the ranger commented, still grinning at the elf.
Something flashed in Legolas' eyes, and his smile became wicked. One hand grabbed his pillow…
"Not in this palace, you won't!" commanded a voice from the other side of his bed.
The hand dropped the pillow, and Legolas turned towards the voice. The next moment he found himself enfolded in a tight embrace.
Thranduil didn't say anything. He knew his son too well to hope that this would never happen again. His son was too much like himself. So he was content to let his body speak without words. Finally, when he had held his son long enough to be sure that he was still breathing, regaining his strength and very, very much alive, he whispered: "I wish you had told me!"
Legolas hugged him tighter for a moment without saying anything. Then they both let go.
Thranduil lay a hand lightly on his son's head and smiled. "I will have to take care of a few things now," he said. "I want you to stay in bed and do exactly what Estel tells you to do!"
Legolas nodded obediently. "Yes, adar." ((father))
Thranduil turned around to leave, but halted in front of the door and hesitated for a moment.
"I think if the prince of Mirkwood would still like to throw pillows in his own room, no one would have the right or wish to stop him." With these words, he left.
He heard a muffled sound, a choked half-hearted protest and the light sound of elven laughter, before he finally closed the door with a contented smile. He leaned against the cool wood for a long moment. He was light-headed with relief, and yet his heart was still aching.
"Valar, protect them," he prayed silently. He knew, if Legolas had died, his heart would have died with him. Estel had saved them both tonight.
- The End -