Chapter 3
Nights Of Comfort
by Beryll
(Eomer POV)
When the men of Gondor came to my home I was twelve years old. Growing up as the sister-son of Theoden King I knew even then about war and that Gondor, which had once been a trusted ally, had turned to a threat many years ago. They had taken parts of our land again and again, always driving us back, leaving us less land to herd our cattle, stealing our horses. But till then they had at least let us live free.
That ended, when they came to Meduseld with their orc friends, taking everything they liked and burning the rest. I did not see my father die, but I saw them kill my mother, who tried to defend me and my sister with sword in hand. At least she died like a true shield maiden, weapon in hand. Not like most other women of Meduseld who were taken as spoils by the soldiers and orcs.
I do not know, what happened to my sister. Looking back on what happened to me, it might be better this way. I would not want to know, what she suffered.
I was to young, to be killed with the men, but to young as well, to be just left behind as useless. Actually I was probably twice lucky, for nobody recognized me as a member of Theoden Kings family and the eldest son of the King of Gondor, who had led the raid, had lost his servant, somewhere in the chaos of the attack and took me as a replacement. He also liked my looks, but that I learned only later.
I saw, what happened to other boys my age. How they were used by the soldiers, orcs and nobles alike, till they were not human anymore. I hid in the tent of my new master and was grateful, for numbing my fear and horror with hard work. Mending armor, sharpening weapons, washing clothes, polishing boots, tending to horses, serving food.
He was a harsh master, those first few days, beating me for every misstep, making me work all day. I tried to hate him then, but worked harder none the less. He did not stay in the ruins of Meduseld long. He left command to one of his officers and returned to Minas Tirith with just a couple of men.
It was a long way, so he gave me a horse to ride. That was the first time, he showed me his friendlier side. Even told me, I was doing well. I still tried to hate him. He had killed my family and destroyed my home.
We were somewhere in the middle of our journey to the white city, when heavy rain forced us to make camp early one day. I went about my usual business of tending to his horse, when one of the soldier showed up and demanded me to 'service him'. Of course I knew what he wanted. I tried to get away, but he was much faster and stronger, so he soon held me by my hair, pulling at my tunic and trousers. I was scared to death. I had seen what had happened to others. I must have screamed.
For suddenly my master appeared out of the pouring rain, punching my assailant with all his bearish might, sending him reeling. I don't know, what he told that soldier, I just recall his tone of voice, leaving no room for argument. I just huddled at his feet, making myself as small as I possibly could.
My master just grabbed me and carried me back to his tent like a little child. And I was crying like a child. My fear had finally caught up with me.
I have no idea why he held me then, murmuring to me, comforting me, telling me over and over, nobody would hurt me. And I wanted to believe him. He had beaten me himself, but nothing more, than some cuffs to the head.
After a while my crying stopped and he peeled me out of my wet clothes, stuffing me into his bed. I was shivering with cold and aftershock, so he got in with me, holding me again.
I thought I knew what he wanted and I did not want to loose his protecting, so I tried to please him. He just took hold of my hands telling me to stop. "You are much to young for that, boy. I do not bed children." he told me. "Now calm down and concentrate on getting warm again." It only took two minutes and I was fast asleep. I could not hate him after that, no matter how hard I tried.
----
He really is not a bad master. He has a temper, that's for sure. When he is angry or drunk, he sometimes hits me, just because I'm the only one around. But he always apologizes later, sometimes even giving me a day of or some coins to buy something for myself.
He did take me to his bed when I was fifteen. I can not say I liked it, though he really tried to be gentle. I lay in his arms crying afterwards and he comforted me. He is a good man somewhere inside that bearish frame and I know he cares for me in his own strange way.
I have learned to enjoy his attention with time. When he is not drunk, he takes great care, to make me like it. And he never shares me with his friends, like most other nobles of Minas Tirith would. For that I am endlessly grateful.
I don't really have to work hard when he is in Minas Tirith, mostly carrying messages, keeping his rooms in order, making sure he always has enough of his favorite beer. Most servants in the palace are treated pretty well. We are not slaves, like the lesser races, just servants. That only means, we get beaten less often and are allowed to move around on our own, but at least we are not treated like cattle.
I pity those, the men of Gondor have named lesser races. Surely elves were not made, to pleasure men, and dwarves are not meant to work till they drop dead. But that is the way of Gondor and you either swallow or choke.
----
Or so I thought until a couple of nights ago, when my master came home from celebrating his brother's birthday.
If there is one thing I have learned in my years in Minas Tirith, learned beyond the shadow of a doubt, it is this: Never argue with your master when he is drunk. And he was very drunk that night. He was just able to stay on his feet. Still he dragged someone along who was even in a worse shape.
It took a moment for me to realize, it was an elf. He was naked, bleeding and hardly conscious. I could imagine, what my master must have done to him. I had seen what he and his brother were capable of, when they got drunk together and I actually was surprised the elf was still alive. He would probably rather have been dead.
But that was not an option, as my master threw the short leash, connected to the collar around the elf neck to me, mumbling something about keeping his precious save, then stumbling of to his bedroom.
The elf managed to stay upright for another second, than he fell to his knees, nearly choking himself on the collar. I let go of the leash, not wanting to hurt him further. He braced himself against the floor with one hand, his other hand holding his head, coughing up blood.
I looked at him and tried to figure out what to do now. My master had never brought home another slave before. At least not, to keep him. And I was not used to making decisions. In the end the pitiful appearance of the elf made my decision for me.
I carefully helped him back to his feet and led him to the small room adjoining my masters quarters where I slept and put him onto my bed. He immediately curled his long graceful limbs against his body, hiding his bruised face behind his hair and arms.
"I am not going to hurt you." I told him gently, although I was sure he wouldn't believe me. If he even understood my language. So I just got some clean cloth and water and started to clean him. He flinched, whenever I touched him and his body was tensed up, as if he expected to be beaten again. When only his face remained to be cleaned, I gently pried his hands away and brushed his hair back, to get a look at him.
His beauty took my breath away. Even bruised he still was the most beautiful creature I had seen in my life. I had seen elves before, but none as beautiful as this one. Elves were the favorite plaything of the gondorian nobility. The more expensive, as they never survived long in captivity.
I once heard my masters brother say, elves were like delicate flowers. If you let them grow free, you could not look at them and savor them, but if you cut them, they withered away and died within a couple of weeks.
This one must have been captured only a short while ago, for there was still life in his eyes. Not the dull flatness, that I had seen with the other elves I had met so far. His eyes were wide with fear and pain and shock, like a cornered animal. His arms trembled but he did not dare to hide his face again, enduring my look.
I just wanted to take him in my arms then, to comfort him in any way, but a human touching him was probably the last thing, that would help him, so I just washed the worst of the blood from his face and disconnected the leash from the collar around his neck. Then I took the faded blanket, lying at the foot of my bed and offered it to him. He just stared at it, none comprehending, so I laid it over him, making sure, not to touch him again.
Then I moved back to the door and sat down on the floor. There was nowhere else to go. The elf was in my bed, so I would have to sleep on the floor. It was still two hours till dawn and judging by the look of my master, when he had returned he wouldn't want breakfast before noon. As I had dutifully waited for his return, I was in need of some sleep.
I watched the elf who lay on his side, watching me distrustfully. His eyes closed sleepily again and again but always he pried them open again, to make sure, I stayed away from him. In the end, I fell asleep
----
When I awoke, well into the next morning, the elf had again curled in on himself and was deeply asleep. I rose from my awkward position on the floor, stretching my acing arms and legs. He did not wake up, so I moved over to the bed, to get a better look at him, now that the sun shone through my small window.
He looked even more beautiful than he had in the night. He still lay on his side like he had when I had fallen asleep. One of his long legs was tangled in the cover, the other stretched out of it, one delicate foot hanging slightly of the bed. One of his hands clutched the blanket to his chest, the other cushioned his head. The bruises on his face and arms were already beginning to fade, but I noticed a blistering red spot on his pointed ear-tip, where the skin stared to peel of. I took me a moment to realize, it was some kind of burn mark. My master and his brother must have been in a really mean mood...
I let him sleep, as his presence had not been demanded and went to my masters quarters to see, if he was already awake. Of course he was not. I threw a quick glance into his sleeping chamber and found him collapsed face down on the bed, still clad in the same cloth he had worn when he came in. For a moment I debated, if it would be safer to just leave him like that, but then I decided against it. He would not be drunk anymore and he must have gotten rid of a lot of aggression the previous night, so I could try to make him more comfortable, without risking getting beaten for my effort.
I went inside and started by pulling his boots off, which he didn't even notice. Next was his coat. As he had not bothered to fasten it, I could get him out of it. Then I turned him over. Not an easy task, when you consider what a bear of a man he is. At last he woke enough to help me at least a bit. With an agonized grunt he landed on his back and again didn't move. His brow furrowed, as if he was thinking really hard, but I knew, what that expression meant. He would have a monumental headache when he would awake later. I looked at him again, wondering if I could get him out of more of his clothes but decided against it. He looked as if he really needed undisturbed sleep.
So I went to the palace' kitchen, ate some breakfast, got some bread and cheese for the elf and a draught, the kitchen maid always made for my master when he had one of his hangovers. And then I went back to my masters quarters, waiting for one of them to wake up.
It was the elf, who stirred first. I had left the door to my room open, so I could keep an eye on him, while cleaning up my masters study. He always managed to leave all kinds of stuff lying around and if I would not have ordered them now and then, the room would have been full and unenterable years ago.
I only noticed the elf was awake, when I looking in his direction again by accident. He had sat up against the headboard of the bed, drawing his knees up to his chin and the blanket around himself. He was staring into the air with an absentminded expression in his face. I went over to him with the plate of food and put in on the bed next to him.
"I have brought you some food." I told him, feeling stupid. I did not even know, if he spoke human language. He glanced at me, no sign of recognition in his eyes, then stared into nothingness again. I decided to just leave the food with him and go on with my work. Maybe elves don't eat, when watched? I had no idea how to treat this strange creature, that looked like it had just stepped out of some fairy tale.
It was some hours later, when my master finally got up as well. He didn't look much better than the elf. His eyes bloodshot, his face drawn into a pain-filled scowl, all rumpled and tired. "Eomer...?" He emerged from his bedchamber. "I've got a headache. Can you...?" I just handed him the draught I had gotten from the kitchen earlier. He looked at it confused for a moment, then recognition dawned and he downed it in one big gulp.
"Thank you." he mumbled and stumbled back into the bedchamber. When he came out some minutes later, he had changed into fresh cloth, washed his face and dragged a comb through his unruly hair. "Would you like some breakfast, master?" I asked politely. He made the mistake to shake his head and moaned. "No... Ugh... I feel like hell..." He sat down heavily in one of the chairs of his living room, holding his head.
"When did I come home last night?" he asked after a while, when he noticed I was still waiting for his orders. "I can't remember a thing." "Two or three hours before dawn, master. You were out with your brother, celebrating his birthday." I answered. "Oh..." another long pause. "Yeah, I suppose I was.... I hope he feels as bad as I do. Must have been one hell of a celebration."
He closed his eyes and started to doze of. "Master, may I ask what is to happen to the elf?" Better to ask now and risk him getting angry for disturbing him, but to wait and have him get angry, because he had something planed he forgot to mention. He opened one of his eyes tiredly. "What elf?"
Oh... so he didn't remember the elf either. "Well, master, you brought home an elvan slave with you and told me to care for him. I was just wondering what else I should do with him now...?" I was not sure altogether if it was my place to ask, but the elf still was in my bed and he couldn't well stay there. Well, if my master wanted him there he could, but I hoped he didn't. Sleeping on the floor is not very pleasant. And the elf would surely like to know, what was going to happen to him now, as well.
My master looked at me in confusion. "An elvan slave?" he asked. "Now where did I pick up that...?" He rubbed his face. "I really have to ask my brother, where we were last night. So where is it?" "I put him in my bed." I answered, hoping he would notice himself, that was not a proper place for his personal slave, but of course he didn't. He just got up out of the chair and walked over to the door to my room.
In the doorframe he stopped to stare at the elf, who stared back at him, a mixture of fear and hostility in his face. "Eomer, what did you do to it?" he asked me somewhat accusingly, turning to face me again. Do? "Well, I cleaned him and took care of his wounds, master." I answered a bit confused. "Oh..." He looked at the elf again. "So it was in this... condition when I brought it...?" He sounded a bit hunted. Another case of bad consciousness for hurting somebody while drunk. "Yes, master."
My master looked at the elf again for a long moment, then turned around and closed the door behind him, leaning against it for a moment. "There are a lot of things I have to take care of." he announced, trying to sound important. "Take care of my new slave. I'll be back in the evening." And with that he fled his quarters and left me to wonder, what to do next.
I opened the door again, to have a look at the elf myself. He flinched, when the door moved but relaxed visibly, when he realized it was just me. He still hadn't touched his food. Take care of him, my master had said. That probably included the burn-mark. And making him eat.
"Is there something I can bring you, you will like better than this?" I asked, pointing at the plate and hoping he would understand me. He just shook his head, pushing the plate away. "But you have to eat something." I told him. I was pretty sure, elves needed to eat just as humans or orcs. He looked at me then, his beautiful brown eyes full of distant pain, and shook his head again. So he didn't want to eat. That would pose a problem. How was I going to explain that to my master? But I couldn't force food down his throat either. Even if my master ordered me to, I doubted I could bring myself to handle this delicate creature like that.
I really had no idea what to do, so I went in search of some salve for his ear. When I came back into my room, he was staring into nothingness again and he didn't react when I sat down on the bed next to him and started to put some of the salve on his ear-tip. I would have liked to take a look at his other hurts as well, but he didn't look inclined to drop the blanket. As far as I could see, he hadn't moved during all the hours that had passed since he woke up.
"I will leave the salve here next to you." I told him, like I would tell a little child. "If you want any for your other hurts, you can use it." He didn't even acknowledge I was there. With a deep sigh I rose from the bed and got back to work.
----
That evening my master came home pretty early, still not looking better then when he had gotten up, grumbling something about the stupidity of orcs, immediately disappearing into his bedchamber to go to sleep, not giving me a chance to address the elf again and not inquiring either. I wondered if this would go on. If he would just pretend the elf wasn't there or if he would at some point decide to use him in his bed. With his temper, one could never know.
When I went to sleep the elf still hadn't eaten or moved and I realized, why they say, elves fade. He looked less and less real. Like he had already partly died. It was creepy and I considered sleeping outside my room. But better to sleep in one room with a half dead elf than to be woken by your master kicking you.
----
The next morning I found both the elf and my master already awake. The elf staring of into the air again, my master sorting through some military paperwork. He grumbled something about breakfast, not bothering to look up and I went to get it for him. When he had had a first sip of tea and looked somewhat relaxed I decided to use the chance to bring back up the subject of the elf.
"Master, there is a problem with the elf." I started carefully. He glared at me over the rim of his cup. He clearly didn't want to be reminded, there even was an elf. "What?" He asked. "He does not want to eat." I explained. "So...? Make him." was his simple command. "I..." It was the first time I could remember I ever questioned one of his commands. "I don't know how..."
He put his cup down with an audible click and I knew I had gone to far, for now there was anger in his eyes. "I told you to take care of him and you will! Do you understand that?!" he barked at me. I did the only sensible thing and dropped to my knees, lowering my head. "Yes, master." I answered, hoping it was not to late to avoid his wrath. For a moment he was fuming silently, then he turned back to his work and I hurried to get away from him.
I threw a quick glance through the open door to my room and noticed the elf watching me distantly. He seemed so far away, I wondered, if he even really saw me. There must be something I could find, he would eat. Something nice. Whatever my master said, I just could not force this incredibly beautiful creature. He might beat me senseless, when the elf died, but what did he expect anyway? He knew as well as I did elves never keep.
So I went to the kitchen again, coming back about an hour later with a bowl of fresh hot soup. My master was gone so I went to the elf again and put the bowl down next to him. "I brought you something warm." I said, sounding pitiful even in my own ears. "Will you at least eat that?" Again he turned his head to me and watched me with his deep brown eyes. He looked so sad I could have cried.
"I... I'm sorry." I stammered, not knowing what exactly I was sorry for, but feeling it somehow was my fault that he had to suffer. I wanted to take the bowl back and leave him alone, but when I reached for it, he suddenly moved and put his hand on mine, stopping me. "It's not your fault." he said in the most musical voice I had ever heard. Then he took the bowl and began to eat, silent tears rolling down his face.
I didn't have any idea what to do or why he suddenly had decided to eat. And I was completely stunned by his voice. It sounded like soothing rain after a long draught. So very different from human or orcish voices. I wondered if the nobles of Minas Tirith knew what they missed, by keeping there elvan slaves silent. I wondered what it would be like to hear him singing. Then I realized he really had no reason to sing.
After he had finished the bowl, he slowly unfolded his long graceful legs from the position they had been in for more than a day. Then he rose from the bed, still keeping the blanket drawn around his shoulders and walked over to the window. There he stood basking in the sunlight and looked even more beautiful, his golden hair shining like spun sunlight itself. I just watched him in awe.
I was so startled when he spoke again, I didn't get what he said. "Excuse me...?" I asked, feeling stupid again. "Are you a slave as well?" he repeated his question, not turning to look at me. "Yes, in a way." I answered. "They call us humans serfs, but I suppose that is basically the same." I couldn't believe, he was actually talking to me, but he went on. "What's your name?" "Eomer." I said. "And you serve the prince Boromir?" "Yes, he is my master."
The elf fell silent and I already thought he wouldn't say anymore and picked up the bowl to leave him alone. He looked more a lord in that faded blanket, standing motionless in the sunlight, than anybody I had ever seen. It just came naturally to treat him like one. But when I got up he turned and looked at me thoughtfully and again sad.
"How can you humans live in this crowded stone-heap?" He asked. "The air smells dead." I just shrugged. He was right, of course. I had felt just like him, when I had first come here seven years ago from the open plains of Rohan, but I had gotten so used to it, I didn't even notice it anymore. So I said: "One gets used to it." "Like the treatment of your master...?" he asked, raising one fine eyebrow.
"He is not that bad. He... when he gets drunk he doesn't know what he's doing. And he's not cruel like the other nobles of Minas Tirith." There was a sudden flash of anger in his eyes and I realized, he was not a pretty plaything at all but a warrior as seasoned as my master. Most probably much more, considering how old elves can grow, when they are not captured.
"Oh." he said, keeping his temper easily. "So torture and rape are not considered to be cruel in Gondor. I will try to keep that in mind." His words stung like he had slapped me and I lowered my head, not able to stand his gaze. Of course he was right. The way my master and his brother had treated him, there was nothing else he could think of the prince. He did not know my master as I did.
Again I turned to leave and again his words held me back. "So what will my duties be in the princes household. As far as I have seen, there is just you and me here...?" I shrugged again, not daring to look at him. "I take care of my master personal needs. I don't know, why he brought you. I thought he wanted you for..." I almost choked on the words but he had asked. "...for his bed, but he seems to have changed his mind."
"I see." He said. Well, good for him because I didn't. I looked at him, to find some clue in his face, but it was as impassive as it had been all the time. He cocked his head slightly and then did something absolutely incredible. He smiled at me. Just a small smile and a little friendliness in his eyes but he somehow managed to look yet more beautiful.
"I thank you for your care." He said. Then he turned back to the window and this time I was sure the audience was over. So I hurriedly left the room and wondered what I had done, to deserve this wondrous creature dwelling in my room, smiling at me. Maybe there were some friendly spirits in this world, looking after me, like my mother had told me and my sister when we had been very young. They hadn't shown themselves in years but it seemed to me like they were now trying very hard to make up the lost time.
He spent all day standing by the window, watching the sprawling, bustling city below. Several times I caught myself, having stopped working, just looking at him to convince myself he was real. In the evening I went to the kitchen and got diner for him. Soup again and a chunk of oven-fresh bread. I set the food down on the bed and was about to leave when he turned to me and thanked me again. Then he sat down on the bed, first rearranging the blanket around himself, then eating.
I stayed and watched. How he ate spoon after spoon, in the end tilting the bowl in a strangely delicate way. How he broke of pieces of bread, dunking them into the soup, then eating them without loosing one drop of soup. How he managed to break the bread, without having crumbs on the blanket. How he licked the spoon clean, put it back into the bowl, then raised his head, looked at me, realized I had been standing there all the time and smiled again this time much more warmly.
"Thank you again." He said, still smiling. "That was pretty good." I heard the 'for having been made by humans' even if he didn't say it and smiled back at him foolishly. He gave me the bowl back and looked at me, strangely puzzled. "So... what do you think, your master wants of me now?" He asked, managing to sound curious and disgusted at the same time.
"I think, he is trying very hard to forget you are here at all." I heard myself answer truthfully, before I had time to consider. He raised his eyebrows. "Why do you think that?" I sighed. "He really is not a bad man. I know you can not believe that, but he does not like himself, when he hurts others. He always does when he gets drunk, but I think he is sorry now." I shrugged and smiled sheepishly. "He would never admit that, though."
He seemed to consider my words, but I could not read in his face to what kind of conclusion he came. "I need to take this back to the kitchen." I said, pointing to the bowl. "I'll be back later." He nodded, still deep in thought, and I left.
My master again returned early, telling me he would be off to Osgiliath the next day and would return deep in the night so I shouldn't wait for him. He seemed to be immensely relieved to have a reason to stay away from his own quarters, lending more weight to my theory. I just hope, he would not decide to sell the elf, just to be rid of this reminder of his uglier, more violent side. He didn't inquire, if I had managed to feed him. Actually he took great care, not to look at the still open door to my room and instead went to bed early again, grumbling something about a long hard day coming up.
I went back to my own room. Maybe my master didn't want to look at the elf, but I could spend hours, doing nothing else. He sat on the bed, absentmindedly picking at his dirty toes, a slight expression of disgust on his face. He looked up at me, frowning. "Do you think I could get a bath or something like that tomorrow?" he asked. I nodded. "The prince will not be here tomorrow, so... sure... no problem."
Dear heavens! What would he look like cleaned? I had to make sure he took his bath in my masters quarters. If any of the other nobles noticed him, they would claim him with my master not around. And when the prince came back, there would be nothing left of his elf to reclaim. Said elf didn't know any of these dark thought and scratched his ear-tip, which was starting to peel, fresh, healed skin showing beneath the burned one. Elves really heal quickly. He looked impossibly cute.
I sat down on the floor, getting as comfortable as possible, preparing for another night. Again he frowned, first looking at me, than at the bed he sat on. "This is your bed." he stated the obvious. I nodded. "Well, then why do you sleep on the floor?" I shrugged. "I don't want to..." What? Frighten him? I couldn't very well tell him that. "You needed it more than me." He seemed to consider that information for a long moment.
Than he shook his head, looking annoyed. "Nonsense. It's big enough for both of us." When I made no move to join him, he raised the blanket in an inviting gesture. "Come on." I tried very hard not to notice his graceful naked body under the blanket, got up and started to climb into the bed with him. He shook his head now definitely amused, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "Will you at least take your shoes of?" he asked, almost laughing.
I felt like a complete idiot and hurriedly got rid of my shoes and shirt, leaving my pants on. I don't know if it was my own reaction to this beautiful naked creature I did not trust or is it was distrust towards this smiling, suddenly very alive elf, that made me keep this 'safety-measure'.
He lost no time, drawing me against him to get both of us comfortable in the narrow bed, pulling the blanket over us and arranging me so I was lying on my side, my head resting on his shoulder. He smelled strange. Of some cheap perfume, probably poured on him by his previous owner and of old dirt and faintly of blood. And beneath all that, he smelled of plants. Like the trees in fangorn forest. A soothing smell, reminding me of home. Whatever I thought might happen between us, it didn't. I fell asleep quickly and I think he did as well.
----
The whole next day was strangely calm. In the morning I got breakfast for both of us, as I didn't see, why I should eat in the kitchen, when I could share my meal with him. This time I brought pot porridge and tea, which he seemed to like very much.
Afterwards, I made some of the regular palace serfs help me ready a bath for him. He wandered through my masters quarters, leaving my room for the first time, still wrapped only in my blanket. He didn't touch anything but looked at everything with amused curiosity.
When I told him the bath was ready he smiled at me again. "Tell me, Eomer," he asked, "do you think you can find some sort of clothing for me? As your master does not explicitly want me naked..." I looked at him thoughtfully. I could get serf-cloths from the storage-master, but that would hardly befit his beauty. On the other hand, he did need something to wear and I did not want to bring up the subject with my master.
"I can only get you stuff like this." I answered, pointing to my own faded shirt and trousers. He looked at the fabric and wrinkled his delicate nose in distaste. Then he cocked his head again and suddenly smiled. "Well, on second thought that might be not such a bad idea." he said, sounding amused. "It would not do to advertise my looks more than absolutely necessary, would it?" I nodded, relieved that he saw it that way.
So I went in search for cloths, while he took his bath. The discussion with the storage-master was rather long, as he did not see why I needed new clothing when me old was still good enough to wear. I told him my master had a new slave, he complained about not being notified about that. I told him it was none of his business, he threatened to beat me for my insolence. In the end I used the one argument that always helped, asking him if he would rather discuss this with my master. He gave me the clothes, deliberately picking especially faded ones.
When I came back, the elf was sitting on my bed again, toweling his long hair, looking altogether rather pleased with himself. "Thank you very much." he said, when I came in. "I almost feel alive again." He said, his voice sounding thoroughly disgusted with the fact. He took the clothes from me, smelling each piece before he put them on. Then he stretched his long limbs like a cat after a nap in the sun.
"So what are you going to do now?" he asked. "Normally I would go out into town on a day off like today." I said. "So why don't you?" I shrugged. "I can't really take you along." I explained. "Even if you were allowed to leave my masters rooms, it would not be save for you to be outside." He nodded accepting that fact. "So why don't you go on your own?" I felt heat creep into my face and lowered my gaze. "I... I don't know. I don't want to leave you alone...?"
"Oh." A short pause. "Well, that's a lot nicer than saying you were staying to make sure I didn't escape." The thought hadn't even crossed my mind and I shook my head in denial. "I don't think I could stop you anyway, if you wanted to leave." I admitted. "No, probably not." he said, a strange softness in his voice. "But I am sure the palace guards would. So what do we do now? Can I help you with your duties here?"
That surprised me so much, I looked at him again. "I... I don't know." "Well, I am certainly no expert at house-keeping, but I will get bored to tears, if I just keep sitting on that bed doing nothing." He shuddered. "It's bad enough to be locked up in these rooms. I at least need to do something."
So we spend the rest of the day doing household-chores. It was a good opportunity do clean out all the corners that had been neglected for some time and while he was - exactly like he said - no expert at that task, he was willing to learn and it seemed to bring immense satisfaction to him to clean things.
And he was wonderful to be around. His graceful movement and musical voice made anything I did in his company pure fun. He repeatedly caught me just listening to the tone of his voice but not to his words, when he asked me this or that and seemed to find it endlessly amusing. And he told me his name, when I had called him 'elf' the third time.
We ate diner together and went to bed together, like it had always been like that. I almost forgot, there was anybody else in the world. Let alone my master.
----
He must have come back sometime in the night, for I heard him snoring in the bedroom, when I got up the next morning. He had actually remembered to leave his muddy boots outside the door to his quarters and had piled his equally muddy clothes by his bedroom-door for me to take to washing. He must be in a rather good mood, to be that considerate. I took his clothes to the palace wash-house and got breakfast for Legolas and myself, as my master would probably sleep for quite a while.
I had left Legolas sleeping in my bed, but when I came back, he was leaning in the door-frame to my masters bedchamber, watching the prince sleep, a mixture of disgust and contained hatred clearly written on his face. It was the first time, he got a chance to really look at my master since the night he must have spend with him and the princes brother. I wondered at his calm.
When he noticed me, he left his musing and took the breakfast tray from me, going back to the room, which had somewhere in the course of the last day become our room, rather than my room. I threw another glance at my master to reassure myself, Legolas hadn't harmed him, but he was still snoring peacefully. What a strange turn my life had suddenly taken, trapped between a master I had served for years and this beautiful elf, I wished to be close to for the rest of my life.
He was sitting on the bed, waiting for me, when I came into our room. "He looks less cruel when he is asleep." He said, obviously referring to my master. That was a very nice comment, coming from him. I didn't know what to say to that, so we just ate breakfast.
I had just drunk my last bit of tea, when I heard the prince calling. "Eomer...?" Sounding astoundingly relaxed. I went over to his bedchamber, where he was sitting in his bed, stretching like a bear after hibernation. "Good morning." He said and smiled at me. He really was in a good mood. "Hope I didn't wake you coming home...?" I shook my head. "No, master."
He jumped our of bed and stretched again. "Really was a good idea to go to Osgiliath." he announced. "Had to bash some orc-skulls. Idiots. Don't get a thing right, even if you tell them trice!" So that was the reason for his happiness. He hated orcs with a passion. Used them, like any other noble of Gondor would, but hated them nonetheless.
Scratching his beard and tugging on his dirty hair he went in search for something to wear. "Can you get a bath for me?" He asked. "I feel like I have waded through the Dead Marshes. Idiots didn't repair the dikes like I told them last time I was there and now good old Anduin has flooded half of the battlements. Had to trample through all that mud to show them how to do it." He grinned widely. "Did you know, orcs can't swim for a penny? I think one of them actually drowned."
"Of course, master. Would you like some breakfast as well?" "Yes, please. And see if you can get those kitchen people to make something sweet for me." He had found a old pair of trousers somewhere in his cupboard and was now eyeing it and then himself. "A shame to put anything on, as dirty as I am." he commented. "Trousers will have to do till I have had a bath."
"Anything else, master?" "Naw, just get going." He waved me away.
----
The next days were outright weird. My master being in a splendid mood, completely failing to acknowledge there was an elf in his quarters, even when he was walking right through his field of vision. Legolas watching the prince with a mixture of hatred, curiosity and sometimes even amusement, obviously considering, if he should use the opportunity and simply cut my masters throat. I have no idea, why he didn't. I had no idea either, if this was going to continue.
Spring was almost over and the sun shone through the many windows of my masters rooms, filling them with golden light but not yet with the stifling heat of summer. It was difficult to harbor dark thoughts in that atmosphere.
One afternoon my master came home from weapons practice, laughing, drawing me into a bearish hug and then towards his bedchamber, kissing me as soon as he had closed the door behind us. I can't say I truly minded. Spring does strange things to a man's behavior and sleeping in the arms of a wonderfully warm elf every night doesn't really take your mind of those things. And when the prince is not drunk and bend on making his partner enjoy his love making, I don't think there are many who could resist him.
Lying in his arms afterwards, I was feeling all mellow and peaceful, resting against his broad chest, almost dozing off. He was playing with my hair, half asleep himself. And then I remembered the elf outside the bedroom and a pang of guilt hit me. Because he might be worried about me, considering what had happened to him. And because for some weird reason I felt like I was cheating on him, enjoying my masters strong arms around me so much.
I waited till, my master had fallen asleep, then slipped out of his embrace, to look for Legolas. He was standing in my masters study, thumbing through one of the princes few books. I stopped in the doorway, looking for any signs of disgust or anger on his face. There were none. Only worry, when he stepped towards me, touched my neck carefully. I winced in sudden pain and realized there must be some bite-mark on my neck, I hadn't noticed until then.
"Did he hurt you?" he asked, his voice so icy, the sun suddenly seemed distant. I shook my head, but he clearly did not believe me. "No, really." I smiled at him. "That..." I touched my neck myself. "I didn't even realize it was there... He can be very... good." I sounded a bit silly in my own ears, but it seemed to reassure Legolas. "Good?" He asked, raising one of his delicate eyebrows, something like amusement in his eyes. I shrugged sheepishly, feeling embarrassed.
We did not talk about that incident again, but when we went to sleep that night, me lying in his arms again, I felt him gently caressing my hair, not so much unlike my master had done in the afternoon and I was wondering if maybe, just maybe, this wonderful elf could be feeling something more than friendship for me. Then I banned that thought from my mind. I couldn't even be sure if he felt friendship for me, so it would be foolish to hope for more.
----
On another evening one of my masters noble friends came by, bringing some kind of report. He did notice the elf, sitting on my bed, watching both nobles carefully, while I was waiting if there would be any orders.
As soon as the man had noticed Legolas, he was staring at him outright. Small wonder, considering how breathtakingly beautiful he looked, now completely healed.
"My dear prince!" he exclaimed. "How do you do that?!" Boromir looked up from the report he had been reading. "Do what?" he asked, ignoring the mans line of sight. "Well, that elf looks fresh as if you had just shaken him out of some tree!" The man continued, not having noticed the small sound of threat creeping into my masters voice. "Mine always just fade within days. But I hear you've had yours for almost a week!"
A week? Was he here that long already? I looked at Legolas as well and realized he really didn't look like a captive elf should. If anything he was getting more alive every day, not fading at all. My masters voice was very cold, when he answered. "I am sure that is none of your business." He said. I recognized that tone. He was very close to loosing his temper. The other man noticed as well. "I... uhm... I certainly wasn't going to intrude." He was quick to explain.
"Good for you." My master sounded not appeased at all. "Maybe it would be better if you left now..." "Yeah... sure... I... uhm... still have pressing matters to attend to." With that he fled my masters quarters. My master threw one very long look at the elf, who was watching him calmly, then he went back to his papers and to ignoring him.
----
I don't know how all this would have continued. Maybe my
master would have decided to get rid of Legolas, though I doubt it. Maybe
Legolas would have killed him, though I doubt that as well. Maybe we would
have continued that strange dance of ignoring facts for a long time, though
I can not imagine that at all.
But something else happened, which changed my formerly unchanging life again
within the span of a week.
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