Disclaimer: I own only the plot and the OCs. All the rest belongs to the Professor, bless him.

A/N: < > denotes speech in the Silvan tongue. I know that it was supposed to be pretty much a dead language by the time of the Ring War, but humor me. It’s my contention that Thranduil and Legolas both speak it in remembrance of Legolas’ mother, who was a Wood Elf, in my little realm. Also, just a reminder that I do mix bookverse and movieverse shamelessly as it suits me. I happen to love both.

~

The morning dawned clear and cool, and far brighter for the residents of the Citadel that the days had been recently. Down to the least of the staff, the release of tension buoyed spirits and smiles were frequent.

After awakening the previous day, Legolas spent the rest of his first day of freedom in almost two weeks alternating between resting and being fed broth and thinned porridge. Because the elven prince had been so long without food, Elessar and the twins deemed it wiser to give him only small amounts of bland food at frequent intervals so as not to cause distress to his digestive tract. Thranduil and Gimli stayed with the prince throughout the night, neither wishing to leave the side of the one they had come too close to losing.

In deference to the fact that Legolas had been confined indoors for so long, a makeshift bed was created for him out on his balcony and he was moved out into the air and sunshine immediately after having his first round of breakfast. Thranduil sat with him most of the early morning, speaking softly to his son as he lay with his head pillowed on Thranduil’s thigh. Gimli had been ordered to return to his own rooms at least long enough to bathe and have his wounds seen to by Elessar.

As relieved as he was to have Legolas back, Thranduil was not done worrying. The ones behind the abduction were still at large and Legolas was exhibiting the aftereffects of the trauma he had endured. Although Legolas’ rooms were heavily guarded and inaccessible from the outside to anyone but birds and ambitiously climbing wood elves, Thranduil refused to leave his son alone in the room even for a matter of minutes. The prince had been unable to rest peacefully the night before unless every lamp in the room was lit. His rest was fitful also unless Thranduil or Gimli or both were within arm’s reach of him. It had unsettled both the Elvenking and the dwarf, though neither spoke of it in Legolas’ presence. Gimli would certainly mention it to Elessar, Thranduil knew. He fully intended to discuss it with Elrond’s sons.

Gimli returned as soon as Elessar pronounced him to be healing well. He was accompanied by the princess of Ithilien, who carried a large basket containing another meal for Legolas and treats to tempt both Thranduil’s and Gimli’s neglected appetites. Thranduil ate a single biscuit, more out of respect for Eowyn than hunger. It was at her suggestion and Legolas’ insistence that he reluctantly agreed to leave to see to his own rest and grooming. He was loathe to leave Legolas, but deemed it unlikely that any attacker would get past both Gimli and the slayer of the Witch-King as well as the guards stationed at the outer door.

His son certainly seemed to be at peace with his current company. He was patiently allowing Eowyn to help him eat and conversing quietly with both her and Gimli. The feeling had begun to return to his hands and feet, but the length of time he had spent tightly bound was affecting his use of them. A human or dwarf would likely have lost the use of his hands and feet permanently, if not they did not lose them in fact after having the circulation in them compromised for so long. Elessar and the twins were of the opinion, however, that Legolas would regain full usage of his hands and feet in time.

Gimli, showing sensitivity that Thranduil would have thought impossible for a dwarf before having spent time in this dwarf’s company, moved out of Legolas’ line of vision to eat his meal, knowing that the elf’s meal would be considerably less exciting than the one Gimli had been offered. While Gimli dined on sausages, fried potatoes and onions, and steaming biscuits dripping with butter and honey, the elf was dining on thin porridge that had been lightly sweetened and biscuits. Thranduil forbore to mention that Legolas could still smell Gimli’s food perfectly well. That would have rendered the dwarf’s gesture useless, and Thranduil was no longer interested in being at odds with him.

“If I begin to sprout hair upon my toes, I shall blame it on you,” Legolas jested, his voice still a bit rough. Eowyn and Gimli both laughed, and Thranduil could not keep from grinning.

“You may be eating as frequently as a hobbit, ion-nin, but you are coming nowhere near to reaching the amount of food those small ones consume. I think you need not worry,” the Elvenking returned with a chuckle, walking over to his son and brushing the prince’s loose hair from his eyes before placing a kiss on his brow. “I will return shortly.”

“Ada, please do not hurry on my account. As much as I wish for your company, I also wish for you to rest. I will not lack for companionship, I am sure,” Legolas added, giving his friends a half-smile.

“No, indeed you will not,” Eowyn added, returning his smile. “Faramir will be along later, after he has given instruction to his assistant and his staff. My brother will be arriving very soon and will wish to see you as soon as he can. Arwen also will be here, as soon as she is able, and Elladan and Elrohir as well. You will be surrounded with friends.”

“All the same, Legolas, I will return sooner rather than later. “ Thranduil smiled, but his eyes were still haunted by the anguish he had borne during Legolas’ captivity.

““ The prince bit his lip and looked down at his hands. His father reached out and gently took Legolas’ chin in his hand, raising the prince’s eyes to meet his.

““ He brushed his thumb over his son’s cheek. ““ He bent to place another kiss on Legolas’ brow and then left for his own rooms after bidding both Eowyn and Gimli cordial farewells.

~

Eowyn drifted to the balcony’s rail and stared out over the city. Her eyes were nowhere near as keen as those of an elf, but she could see out onto the Pelennor Fields from her vantage point. She wondered briefly how far Legolas could see and made a mental note to ask him at some point.

She looked over her shoulder at her companions. Legolas had drifted into sleep, his eyes almost closed. Gimli dozed in the chair beside Legolas’ bed, one hand resting on the elf’s wrist. Smiling, the White Lady of Rohan picked up a blanket from a chair just inside the bedchamber and tucked it around the sleeping elf. Legolas shifted, murmuring something in his own tongue before snuggling under the blanket with a contented sigh. Chuckling under her breath, Eowyn returned to the bedchamber, re-emerging a moment later with another blanket in her arms. This one she draped around Gimli, taking great care not to wake him. The dwarf did not so much as stir.

Eowyn returned to her vantage point, but her attention was no longer on the view of the city and the fields beyond the walls. Her eyes remained affectionately on her sleeping friends, her thoughts ranging back to the first time she had actually had a chance to speak with Legolas.

~

It had been the morning after the remembrance of the fallen of Helm’s Deep at Meduseld. Eowyn had made her way to the kitchens to organize the serving of breakfast early that morning and thus had missed the departure of Gandalf and Pippin for Minas Tirith. The gossip reached her shortly after, and she thoughtfully sent a large tray of comfort food to the remaining hobbit.

She had stepped out to the herb garden to gather a few herbs for the stew that was to be served for the mid day meal, a kindness done for the cook. Upon her return, she was shocked to see the elegant figure of the elf standing beside the hearth and speaking politely to the cook. Eowyn realized with a start that she had never, in the time since his arrival with Aragorn, Gandalf, and Gimli, heard him speak a single word, although she had heard him sing. His voice was quiet and musical, as soothing as his singing.

“Yes, a tea would be fine. Thank you very much, mistress. It is kind of you; I know that you are very busy,” the elf said with a deferential tilt of his head and a slight smile. The cook merely waved her reply. He looked up at Eowyn then. “Good morning, my lady,” he said, placing his hand over his heart and bowing to her.

“Good morning, Master…. Legolas, isn’t it?” Eowyn had heard Aragorn and Gimli both address him with that name, but she was a stranger and friends often had the privilege of familiarity. He smiled again, a full smile this time. It lit his face and enhanced his already breathtaking features.

“It is. Thank you, my lady.” He shifted slightly and it occurred to her that he was uncomfortable.

“Have you had your breakfast yet, Master Legolas?” To her experience, the surest way to make certain that warriors felt at home was to make certain that they had ample food, drink, rest, and activity.

“Nay, my lady. I must see to my errand first, but I thank you.”

“The tea’ll take a bit of brewin’. If you’re hungry, I could fix you a mite to eat in the meantime,” the cook offered, smiling up at the elf.

“I am imposing enough on you as it is. I would not add further to your workload. No, thank you, I will be fine.”

“Oh, nonsense! It’s no trouble and you could do with a bit of a feed, if you ask me,” the cook returned with her usual no-nonsense attitude. “Go and sit right there,” she instructed, waving him towards the long table a few feet away. “Now, here,” she said, putting a bowl of porridge and a pot of honey in front of him. “Be a good lad and tuck into that. I’ll get you a mug of tea and I think I’ve got some fruit around here somewhere.” His face bore an amused grin, but he picked up the spoon and began to stir honey into the porridge. Eowyn could not fault the cook’s thinking. The elf did indeed look rather lean. It also looked as if he might be blushing. His cheeks and ears looked a bit pink, but it could have been a trick of the light. Still, Theoden’s niece felt that she should say something.

“Forgive her, she has six sons and tends to treat everyone as she would them,” Eowyn explained quickly as soon as the cook left for the pantry.

“I am not offended, my lady,” the elf said with a slight smile and a quick glance at her. Yes, he was most assuredly blushing. That surprised Eowyn, but she prudently made no comment on it. He lifted a modest spoonful to his mouth. He ate very neatly, not at all like the rough men that Eowyn was used to. By the time the cook returned, he had scraped the bowl clean. She gave him a smug look.

“Thought so,” she said with a nod. “No fresh fruit to be had, I’m afraid. I’ve got some dried berries that’d go well on another bowl of porridge, though.” She set a steaming mug of tea in front of him.

“Only a small one, please mistress. Gimli will be needing his tea as soon as I can get it to him.” He held to bowl out to her and she spooned a generous amount into it, topping it with the berries.

“Now, mind you finish that,” she instructed, with a sternly fond look. “You’ll have time enough before the tea for your friend is done and you look like no one‘s been feedin’ you lately.” She turned back to her hearth, missing the rueful grin and shake of his head. He finished the porridge in silence and took his leave politely as soon as the dwarf’s tea was done.

“Bit on the shy side, that one,” the cook commented, stirring her cauldron of stew. “Very nice manners, though. You can tell he was raised right. Bet somebody back home is missin‘ him.” She looked over at Eowyn. “He came to get some tea for the dwarf. Seems that the last one left standin’ after the drinkin’ contest last night is gonna be the last one outa bed this mornin’. Good thing he has a friend to look after him so well.”

~

Legolas shifted restlessly in his sleep, drawing Éowyn’s attention back from the past. Gimli roused enough to give the elf’s arm a squeeze and to rumble something at him, calming him. Eowyn smiled as the dwarf slipped immediately back into his doze. She turned back to the panoramic view, pausing as her eyes caught movement in the sky.

Three birds flew in close proximity, coming from the Northwest. As they drew nearer, she realized that they were three of the Great Eagles and her mouth dropped open with surprise. She had heard her brother’s tales of the great avians’ assistance during the Battle at the Black Gate but had never thought to see them herself. She watched as they angled in to land in front of the Citadel, passing close enough in front of her that she could see that each eagle bore a large basket in its talons.

TBC