~Still no elfling, but Lasriel finds other things to occupy herself with: bricks and chess.~

~♕~

"When life gets you down,
you know what you gotta do?
Just keep swimming."

– Dory, Finding Nemo

~♕~

20. Routine

"Ha!" Lasriel dropped her queen on a black square. "Checkmate."

"Got me again." Galion didn't look like he minded at all and only calmly began to put his pieces back. "Shall we start over?"

"I can't, I need to make dinner. But I will be back tomorrow." She rose and stretched her aching limbs. She had spent most of the day forming adobe bricks and her back hurted, but in a good way. It made her tired enough to fall asleep fast and not spend the night thinking dark thoughts.

"Alright. See you then."

When she put on her cloak, Lasriel reflected that Galion looked a bit healthier since they began their daily chess games earlier that month. She was fairly certain he still drank, but less now. Having something to occupy himself with had been good for him.

An idea struck her. "Why don't you join me making bricks tomorrow? Or must the storage be manned at all hours?"

"Hm, in the daytime when the foresters are out it's usually nobody who needs me, so I suppose I could put up a note... at least if I wasn't gone for too long. But do you think I would be useful? I have no idea how to make a brick."

"Oh, it's easy. I'll show you."

Pleased with her plan, Lasriel returned home; with an extra couple of hands the bricks she needed would be finished sooner. She longed to be able to start using them and finally build a real house.

Legolas was punctual as usual, and also as usual their conversation at dinner was scarce but polite.

Afterwards they read together in silence for an hour before going out to make themselves ready for bed. Lasriel had finished her woven screens around the bathing area and privy weeks ago, making it less awkward to use them, but if Legolas had noticed the extra comfort he didn't say.

When she returned inside, Lasriel lay awake in bed for a while just in case. Her bed felt big and cold. Lonely. Would this be the night he came back?

She heard Legolas light footsteps as he entered the house and moved about for a bit, and then his door shut.

She sighed and turned over. No bedding that night either, then. But she hadn't really expected it, not anymore; they had not slept together for weeks.

After he plaited her hair the first time, Lasriel had actually looked forward to the next night, curious whether she would enjoy the act again. But an unfortunate circumstance had hindered it: her period. She wasn't surprised when she noticed it had started, and when she told him, neither was Legolas – elves didn't get with child easily so they had not expected it to work already – but she had no idea why he didn't return to her bed after the bleeding was over.

Had he stopped liking doing it? Or had he changed his mind about having an elfling?

She wanted to ask but was too embarrassed to bring it up.

Instead time passed, each day similar to the one before. They woke up, Legolas went to work in the forest, Lasriel managed the chores at home and then went to make bricks in the outskirts of the colony where nobody would notice. In the afternoon she played chess with Galion and in the evening she had dinner with Legolas. Then they read books and then went to sleep. Sometimes he stayed up late doing paperwork, and other times he was away for a couple of days to work in the more distant plantations, but apart from that nothing broke routine. Their dull, bleak routine that Lasriel hated.

At least there was still the braiding. Legolas redid her braids every other morning, and she enjoyed the moment immensely. That was the best part of the whole day.

She always worried he would insist she learn to do it herself, but so far that had not happened. She didn't want to learn, not now. Not if hair plaiting was the only intimacy she would ever get with her husband.

~♕~

In the morning, Galion was already waiting when Lasriel had finished washing up after breakfast. On the way there, she eagerly described how she made the bricks by mixing clay, animal dung and reeds and leaving them in the sun to dry. If the day was rainy she put them under waxed linen tarpaulins, but so far the winter had thankfully been cold, windy and dry; perfect drying conditions for a brick builder like herself.

"Will the house not be ruined whenever it rains? Or must you put waxed linen on the roof?" Galion asked.

"That's why I asked you to buy me whitewash the next market day," she explained. "The lime will protect the bricks beneath. But even so, once dry, the bricks become almost like stones so I think they would survive for quite some time even without painting them."

Galion proved not at all as useless as he had seemed to think he would be; when Lasriel had shown him how to mix the clay he worked fast, and in the afternoon she was pleased to find they had made nearly twice as many bricks as she generally did alone.

"Well done, us," she said. "This calls for a celebration."

"Good idea. Shall we share a cup of wine or two?" he asked hopefully.

"Better up. Let's play two games of chess today!"

To his credit, he didn't look too disappointed at her suggestion.

At dinner that evening, Lasriel's good mood remained. She longed to share her progress with her husband, and to show him all the bricks she had made, but by now she didn't quite trust he would be as excited as she. He might find fault with the bricks, or the general idea of a brick house. It was better if she finished the house first, paint, windows and all – and surprised him with it. He would be pleased then, for sure, and to be able to work in peace she would complete it the next time he was away on a longer journey.

Instead of bricks she chose another subject. "I have been playing a fun game today, with Galion. A Haradrim game called chess."

Legolas sounded a bit distracted when he replied. "With Adar's butler? I didn't know he could do anything other than drinking."

"He is a good friend. It is rather lonely when you are away." She stole him a shy glance, wishing she could add it was rather lonely when he was at home, too. Especially in bed.

"I am glad to hear you have friends." He didn't look up from his food and he appeared to be thinking about something else.

Using the opportunity to look without him noticing, Lasriel admired his handsome face and wide shoulders accentuated by the usual hunter's green tunic. She longed to touch him again. To feel his silky skin under her palm...

It suddenly struck her that maybe he didn't know for how long ellith periods lasted. Maybe he was waiting for her to tell him it was safe to return to her?

But how could she bring up the subject? She couldn't just ask if he wanted to join her in bed; that would be beyond awkward. No, she must be subtle...

~♕~

After finishing his bedtime routine, Legolas brought the latest bills to the kitchen table along with his notebook. The stack of bills was alarmingly thick. Why did everything cost so much?

He tried to add the expenditures together but came up with a different sum each time – and all the sums were more than his budget allowed.

He rubbed his forehead, smudging ink on it. What a mess his life had become. He needed more money but there was no way to get it. This Ithilien project didn't work at all like he had intended from the beginning. Why couldn't he just be allowed to plant his trees in peace and someone else handle the mundane things like bills and funding? He was not good at it. He was terrible at it, even.

Lasriel entered the house, hair damp, smelling nice from her soap. "Can you plait my hair?" she asked.

He looked up, a bit surprised. He normally braided her hair in the mornings. Then he saw her slight blush and suddenly understood.

She wasn't talking about plaiting. She was talking about... after.

Did she really want to do that?

His heart picked up speed. The last time he slept with her, he felt horrible afterwards. They had just quarreled, but somehow his anger had turned into desire when she looked so innocent and small in front of him. So he had suggested he helped braid her hair and then used it as an excuse to bed her. It was pathetic, really.

Hence, he had almost been relieved the next evening when she told him why they couldn't do it for a while.

Since then, he had decided to be strong; it didn't do for a warrior like himself to allow his lust to get the better of him. And it worked. During the time of abstaining, he had found ways to relieve the pressure – other, safer ways that didn't involve hurting his wife.

Of course, there was the matter of elflings... the heir he had promised his father. But could he even afford a child the way matters were now? He lived in a hut, basically. A baby deserved better.

No, it was probably best to wait until his finances were more in order. And his father wasn't going anywhere; there was plenty of time.

Legolas gave Lasriel another glance. Was that why she was suggesting it tonight – elflings? He knew she wanted one, she had said as much.

His body certainly wanted to say yes but for once his mind remained in control. "I'm busy at the moment but I will plait your hair tomorrow as usual," he replied.

A brief disappointment passed over her face. "What are you doing?" She took a step closer.

He swiftly shut the notebook before she could see his feeble attempt at making ends meet. "Nothing important."

"But–"

"It's late; you should go to bed. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she muttered and shut the door behind her a little too hard.

When he was alone again, Legolas tiredly leaned his head in his hands. There was so much he wanted to do but couldn't afford. Dig channels to water the plantations, and ditches around the swampier ones; treat the plants against pests; build fences to keep the saplings safe from deer. He would like to hire more staff and bring more saplings south from Lothlórien and Greenwood. He needed wood so he could build his wife a real house, one with windows and floors. One fit to rear a child in.

But Faramir had already given him more money than he could spare; Legolas couldn't ask him again.

There was nothing for it, he must ask Aragorn this time. Once again he would have to go through the mortification of begging from a friend.

It was very late when he finally went to bed. At least he had a plan; that was something. Even if it was a humiliating one.

When he had blown out the candle and lay in darkness he thought again about Lasriel. She had looked rather adorable when she asked him to plait her hair.

Closing his eyes, Legolas imagined himself accepting it. He thought of her soft hair against his fingers, her sweet scent, her warm skin. And afterwards, her body caressing him as he entered her.

In his fantasy he lasted long, long enough to pleasure her like the hero in the romantic book they had read together that time. She would mumble his name incoherently and her raptures would bring on Legolas' release.

But of course that was all it was, a fantasy. In reality he was a bad lover. In reality he was alone in a cold bed with only his hand.

It did the same service as his wife, but it was a very poor substitute.

A/N:

I'm sorry this was a bit short but I have been very busy during the holidays. I will make it up to you in the next chapter. :) Happy Easter to you who celebrate!

Many hugs and kisses to everyone who read and commented on previous chapters. You guys are the best! xx