You Said We Used To Be Lovers 1

You Said We Used To Be Lovers

Part 1 - Loss and Realisation

Posted: June 22, 2007
Title: You Said We Used To Be Lovers
Author: Jay of Lasgalen
Type: FCS
Characters: Elrohir/Legolas, Elladan, Elrond, Celebrían
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Tolkien’s, not mine.

Summary: Legolas’s visit to Imladris is interrupted by a battle in which Elrohir is critically injured.

*****

Legolas awoke from an uneasy doze and stretched, stiff from sitting all night. He glanced at the bed as a matter of course, but there was no change. Elrohir still lay silent and unmoving, though there were small, hopeful signs. The heavy bandages that had swathed his head were gone, and the deep bruises that had turned half his face black were fading to yellow. The deep gashes left by the orc’s spiked club were slowly closing – but Elrohir still did not wake.

It had been over a week since the battle. A week of long, dreary days and restless nights. He and Elladan, Elrond and Celebrían – between them, they sat with Elrohir night and day, talking to him, reading, coaxing him to swallow tiny amounts of water – but Elrohir still did not wake.

He kissed Elrohir on the brow as he greeted him. “Good morning. It looks to be another lovely day today. We should be out, you know – not trapped in here, while you sleep!” He did not wait for a response – he no longer expected one. His hope was fading with every day that Elrohir remained unconscious.

He rose to his feet and began to pace about the room, pausing to look out over the valley. Imladris was basking in the heat of high summer, and the early morning air was already warm. Normally he and Elrohir would be making the most of their leave, picnicking and riding in the forests and meadows, sometimes taking a longer journey to the furthest borders and spending the nights together beneath the stars. Their idyllic days together had been brutally shattered by reports that a company of orcs was crossing the mountains, heading for the scattered human settlements along the Hoarwell. Now his life centred on this one room.

Returning to the bed he sat on the edge, taking Elrohir’s limp hand in his, caressing the long fingers. “Wake up soon, Elrohir,” he murmured. “I love you, and I need you to be well. I want to go back to our days and nights together, when it is just the two of us. And when you are well, we will go swimming in the Bruinen – you will need to exercise and build up your strength. Poor Nimroth is pining for you, too. I try to ride him, but you know he will only tolerate you!”

He glanced up as Elladan entered, but did not move from his perch. Elladan looked as weary and strained as Legolas felt, his eyes shadowed with sleeplessness. He limped across to the bed, and sat down with a sigh.

“Is there any change?” It was always the first question they asked each other, and always received the same reply.

Legolas shook his head. “No. Nothing.”

Elladan leaned back against the headboard, and took Elrohir’s other hand. “Wake up, little brother. Summer is passing, and you are missing the best of it. Legolas will be gone soon, and you will not be able to say goodbye.”

“No. I will not leave – not while he is like this.” Legolas held Elrohir’s hand against his cheek longingly, and sighed. “I have already written to my father, prolonging my stay. I know it will be difficult for him,” he admitted. “He needs me there – but Elrohir needs me more. He will understand.”

Elladan nodded. “Thank the Valar you are here,” he added unexpectedly. “I have never been so glad that you and Elrohir are bound. We all love him, and your support helps so much. Together, I know we can call him back.”

“When? It has been a week, Elladan. When will he wake?” The despair that ate at him began to brim over again. “What if he never wakes? Without food or enough water he will die, Elladan – and I …,” he broke off, knowing that Elladan suffered the same worries and fear; probably even more. Their twin bond was even stronger and deeper than his own bond with Elrohir. They had been together since the very first moments of life, and rarely separated since then, while he and Elrohir had been lovers for a mere twenty years – and their partings were too long, and too frequent.

Elladan closed his eyes and sighed. “I know. We have to have hope, Legolas – that is all we can do. Just hope.” He settled himself more comfortably on the bed. “Go and bathe and change. Or take Nimroth out – he needs the exercise, and the grooms cannot handle him.” He looked up with a sympathetic smile as Legolas hesitated. “Or do you fear he will wake while you are not here?”

“If I thought it would prompt his waking, I would go now, and not return until he does wake,” Legolas admitted bleakly. He hesitated again, then nodded. “You are right. I need to feel the sun and the breeze – I was not made to stay within walls. But I will not be long.”

He took Nimroth along woodland paths, delighting in being beneath the trees once more. Urging him into a full gallop, they raced along the narrow track, leaping fallen logs and ducking under low branches. He knew it was reckless, but he need this mindless exertion. All his attention and skill were focused on the path, and he had no time to brood, or dwell on thoughts of Elrohir. At last he slowed their breakneck speed, breathing hard. The fierce ride had at least eased the tension across his shoulders and neck, and finally banished the headache that had lurked for days. He turned Nimroth and they returned to the house at a more sedate pace.

When he returned to Elrohir’s room, Elladan had not moved, though Elrond and Celebrían were now also there. Celebrían kissed his cheek as he sat beside her. “Do you feel better?”

To his surprise, Legolas nodded. “Yes,” he admitted with guilt.

“Good. Elrohir will not thank you when he wakes if you have made yourself ill through worry. It does you no good to be here all the time!”

The day wore on. Elrond and Celebrían left again later, and Legolas and Elladan resumed their vigil of reading and talking to Elrohir. At last Elladan stretched restlessly. “I weary of just sitting here!” he exclaimed. “A game of chess? There is a set in the other room.” He limped through to the sitting room he and Elrohir shared, and Legolas moved to the open window, stretching his stiff legs.

A soft sigh from the bed drew his attention back to Elrohir. He returned swiftly, and knelt beside the bed, taking Elrohir’s hand in his again. “Elrohir? Can you hear me?” He stroked the palm gently with his thumb – and the limp fingers moved, returning the touch.

Legolas turned his head and called to the other room. “Elladan! I think he is waking!” He lowered his voice to a gentle whisper again. “Elrohir? Wake now. I am here, and Elladan. Can you hear me?” He brushed his hand against Elrohir’s face, pushing back a loose strand of hair. “Wake up, my love.”

Elrohir’s eyes flickered and he moved his head a little, his face creasing in pain. Elladan ran into the room and stopped dead, then sat carefully on the very edge of the bed. “El?”

Elrohir slowly opened his eyes, though the left, still swollen, remained partially closed. He blinked once or twice, and gazed at Elladan. “El?” His voice was a bare whisper.

“Yes. I am here, little brother. And Legolas. You scared us, El.” He bent, and held Elrohir in the gentlest of embraces for a moment, then moved back to allow Legolas closer.

“Elrohir. Welcome back.” He smiled. “As Elladan says, we were worried about you.” He leaned forward and placed a light kiss on Elrohir’s head.

Elladan slid his arm beneath his brother’s head and raised him slightly. “Drink this, little brother. It is just water. Drink – you must be thirsty.”

Elrohir took a careful sip and coughed, then drank again before sagging back into Elladan’s support. “What … happened?”

“A very large orc with a spiked club happened,” Legolas explained. “Do you remember? Do you remember the battle?”

Elrohir frowned. “No …”

Elladan hushed him. “It does not matter. Not now. Just rest, El.”

Elrohir was struggling to stay awake now, but he gave a slight smile, his swollen mouth making it slightly twisted. “… glad you are here, Legolas. A good friend …” he breathed, and his eyes drifted shut as he slid back into sleep.

Legolas smiled as he kissed Elrohir gently. “A good friend? Oh, I think I am rather more than that! You own my heart and soul. Rest now, my love.” He looked across to Elladan, and saw his own joy and relief reflected there. “At last,” he breathed in jubilation.

“Aye, at last,” Elladan agreed. The shadow of worry and weariness had lifted from him, and he smiled, then climbed awkwardly to his feet. “I must tell my parents.”

“No, wait,” Legolas protested. “I will go. I will be faster – and I know you still find the stairs difficult.”

Elladan did not argue, a sure sign of how much his leg still pained him. The bone-deep slash was healing, but he was slow to recover from the blood loss and the poison on the blade. “Yes. And hurry – if he wakes again, he will want to see you.”

Elrond and Celebrían were in the library, and both rose to their feet as Legolas entered. Celebrían gazed at him and read something in his face, for she gave a sudden smile. “Elrohir is awake!”

“He was,” Legolas corrected. “He regained consciousness a few minutes ago, though he is asleep again now. Elladan is with him.”

“Thank the Valar,” Elrond sighed. He questioned Legolas as they hurried back to Elrohir’s room. “How does he seem? Is there any confusion? Any blurring of his vision? Any headache or dizziness?”

Legolas shrugged. “I could not tell. He was only awake for a few moments, but he knew us both. He cannot recall the battle, though.”

Elrond nodded. “That is common enough. When he next wakes, we will know more.”

Elrohir slept for the rest of that day, a deep healing sleep rather than the blank unconsciousness of the preceding week. He awoke again near dusk, instinctively turning his head towards Elladan and Legolas on his left.

Celebrían took his hand and kissed his cheek. “Good evening, my dear. I am so glad to see you awake at last! We have all been most worried.”

Elrohir smiled, and squeezed her hand. “Mother.” His gaze wandered around the room as he took in the figures by his bedside, and he frowned. “How long have I been here?”

“You were unconscious for over a week,” she told him.

His eyes reflected his shock. “A week? No wonder you were worried.” He freed his hand, and tried to push himself upright.

“Wait, little brother. Let me help you.”

As Elladan and Legolas helped him to sit, Elrond held a cup of water for him. “Drink this, then let me look at you,” he suggested.

Elrohir bore his father’s attention and questions meekly as Elrond looked into his eyes and made Elrohir track the movement of his forefinger.

“Can you see clearly?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Do you have a headache?”

“No.”

Elrond frowned. “Remember I am a healer, and your father. I know when you are not telling me the whole truth. Now, do you have a headache?”

With a glare at Elladan, who maintained an impassive expression, Elrohir nodded. “Yes.”

“Do you feel any dizziness?”

Elrohir sighed. “Yes.”

“I thought so.” Elrond added a fine powder to a cup of water. “Drink this. It will ease the headache and dizziness, and any nausea.” He waited until Elrohir drank the potion. “Good. Now, do you remember what happened to you?” he asked at last.

Elrohir shook his head slightly. “No. I told Elladan and Legolas that. They said there had been a battle – though I do not remember it. What happened?”

Elrond settled by Elrohir’s side. “Word came that orcs were crossing the mountain passes and attacking villages in the north,” he explained. “We sent patrols to help them. In the course of one of the battles, Elladan was injured, and when you went to his aid an orc struck you on the side of the head with its club.” He paused. “The orcs were destroyed though, and the villages are safe.”

Elrohir sighed. “That at least is good news,” he murmured. He looked at Elladan. “You were injured?”

“A cut to the leg, little brother. Nothing for you to worry about – it is healing well!” Elladan replied blithely, ignoring the looks cast at him.

Elrohir frowned. “I cannot remember,” he fretted.

“That does not matter. It will soon come back to you,” Elrond reassured him. “Rest now, and sleep, and the morning will soon come.” He rested one hand on Elrohir’s forehead. “Sleep now, my son.”

Elrohir blinked. “Not fair …” he muttered. His eyes closed, and he sank back into a deep sleep.

Once Elrohir was asleep, Elrond withdrew his hand. “He will sleep now until the morning. The headache and dizziness are normal, and I think his memory of the battle will soon return.” He smiled at Elladan and Legolas. “And you can both rest properly tonight, and sleep. Tomorrow will come soon enough.”

Elrohir slept through the night – and so, for the first time in over a week, did Legolas. He awoke shortly after dawn, feeling more rested and at ease than since word had been received of the orc incursion. Elrohir still slept peacefully, spread across the bed in his usual untidy sprawl, the cuts and fading bruises still showing clearly against his skin. He stirred as Legolas bent and kissed him, then sat up, still looking a little disorientated. “Legolas? I …” he broke off as the door opened, and Elladan came in bearing a tray, with Elrond and Celebrían behind him.

“You are awake? Good! I have brought breakfast,” he announced. “I expect you are hungry, El – you have not eaten for over a week.”

“Hungry? I am ravenous!” Elrohir replied. “But first – can I get up today? I feel I have been abed for far too long; I want to be able to move about.” His gaze strayed to the window. “It is a lovely day, and I want to feel the sun and the breeze, and hear the sounds of the valley.”

Elladan helped Elrohir to his feet, but then stood back as his twin shook off his support. “I can manage by myself – I am quite capable!” he pointed out, steadying himself against a chair back.

Legolas and Elladan exchanged a glance of resignation behind his back. “Stop it, El – I know that look!” he snapped, without turning around.

Legolas chuckled. “Welcome back, little brother,” Elladan said. “Now I know you are well!” They stayed close to Elrohir as he crossed the room to the open window that led onto the terrace, and stepped out onto the stone paving.

Elrohir settled into one of the chairs there, and raised his face to the sun, breathing in deeply. “I feel better already. A week is too long to be abed!”

As they finished the bread and honey and fruit, Elrohir turned to look down the valley at the trees and distant waterfall. “I do not remember it being summer,” he confessed. “I thought it was spring. We had not long since celebrated our begetting day.”

“That was a few months ago, El. What else do you remember?” Elladan asked gently.

Concerned, Legolas drew closer, listening. He had not been surprised when Elrohir could not recall the battle – he knew, and Elrond had confirmed it, that short term memory loss of events that lead to an injury like this was common. But now it seemed as if the memory loss was for more than just a few days.

Elrohir smiled at him. “I do not remember you being here Legolas – when did you arrive?”

“Four weeks ago now. I came to see you – or have you forgotten that as well? What else do you recall?”

Elrohir frowned, raising one hand to his head. “It hurts when I try to think,” he admitted. “I remember training sessions. Patrols. Swimming in the north river, when the water was so cold from ice melt I thought my ears and fingers and toes would drop off!”

Elladan laughed. “Valar, yes. We do that every year – when will we ever learn?”

“I remember our begetting day,” Elrohir added. “For once I was able to surprise you, El. Elwen foaled at exactly the right time!”

Elladan stared at him. “Elwen?” he questioned.

Legolas glanced at him, wondering at the sudden tension in Elladan’s voice.

“The foal I gave you, brother?” Elrohir asked patiently “You named him Anroch. Or have you forgotten? My planning and timing was perfect.” He leaned back in the seat and pressed his hand to his head, blinking.

“Does your head ache, Elrohir?” Elrond asked quietly.

He nodded. “I feel dizzy, too,” he confessed. Legolas knew how rare it was for Elrohir to admit to any weakness – he must have been feeling weary indeed.

“You need to rest,” Elrond said, his tone firm. “You have been up for quite long enough for now.” He helped Elrohir to his feet and into the bedroom, leaving a tense silence behind.

“What is it?” Legolas asked. “What is wrong with what he remembers? Did it not happen?”

Elladan paused, looking shaken. “Oh yes, it happened. That begetting day – when he gave me Anroch …”

“Yes?” It was odd, he realised, that he had not seen Anroch. Elrohir was normally never able to resist showing off a new foal. He did not recall the mare, Elwen, either.

“It was nearly fifty years ago.”

*****

| Chapter Index | next

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to: Jay of Lasgalen