~ Wynne and Thranduil are on a first name basis and Legolas renews her new braids. ~

16. Drinking With Elves (Again)

"So, now that we are on a first name basis, can I call you Thranny?" Wynne hiccuped, covering her mouth with her hand.

"Absolutely not."

"Aww why not? Galion is Gale, and Nodir and Bronedir are Nodi and Bron. Thranny would be perfect for you. And you," she poked Legolas in the chest with her index finger, "you can be Leggy."

"If you call me Leggy I shall call you Lembas Lover."

"Not funny." Wynne scowled at him.

"I think it is hilarious." Legolas' features were deadpan apart from the slightly upturned corners of his mouth.

Wynne tried to poke him again but he caught her hand. She wanted him to keep holding it but sadly he let go, and she couldn't think of a plausible excuse to touch him again.

Then she remembered his bite wound. "Is your hand better now?"

"It is. This fire water really has benefits." He took a sip from his cup.

"I didn't clean it for you yesterday, what with the orcs kidnapping me and everything. I can do it now if you want?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Then let's go to the river. You should wash it before I apply the liquor."

Legolas followed her down to the dark stream, that now had a red tint reflecting the setting sun. She noticed with some satisfaction that the elf swayed a little in his gait.

"I thought you were so unaffected by spirits that you even beat a dwarf in a drinking competition. How come you can't walk straight?"

"I do walk straight. And look at my hand, steady as a rock." He held out his good hand for her to see.

She came closer, stumbling on a tuft of grass.

"Now who cannot walk straight?"

"Ha, I never said liquor doesn't affect me. It does. So you must support me." Wynne took his hand and he didn't seem to mind. It felt strong and warm and covered hers entirely.

She walked extra slowly the last few yards, making the moment last, but eventually she had to release him.

As Legolas removed the bandage and began to wash, Wynne sat on the grassy slope just above the rough gravel of the shore.

Music drifted from the campfire above; Nodir and Bronedir were singing again, accompanied by Galion's flute. This time their bass voices were joined by a third, a baritone.

With some surprise she realized it was Thranduil. "Your father has a lovely singing voice. Do you sing as well?"

"Sometimes." He dried his hands on a linen towel and came to sit next to her.

"I'd love to hear it."

"Maybe another time."

"I take that as a promise. Now, let's have a look at that bite."

The wound really did look better today. It wasn't swollen anymore and a scab had begun to form. Legolas didn't even flinch when she dabbed it with a spirit soaked cloth.

"I'm glad it's healing so well."

"Thanks to you." In the twilight his eyes were dark and his intense gaze made her stomach flutter.

Wynne broke eye contact first.

"How about your thigh?" he asked. "Let me check those stitches."

Her cheeks warmed at the mention of thighs. "Sure." Still blushing she removed the strings that held her hose up, rolling one down a bit. It healed well and she had not needed a bandage the past two days.

Legolas examined it thoroughly, perhaps more so than was strictly necessary. She could see a vein on his neck throbbing faster, just like her own heart did.

"Looking good." He had become slightly breathless.

Then he carefully touched the three tiny knots. Too softly. Wynne squirmed and giggled.

That broke the intense atmosphere. "You are ticklish," he noted, seemingly storing the information for future use.

Of course she then had to try to tickle him back but got no reaction at all. His face could have been sculpted in marble.

"You are no fun." She tried some more anyway, just to have a reason to touch him.

"You are wasting your time. Elves are beyond such worldly things as ticklishness."

His teasing smile made Wynne certain he did feel it; he just had strong self-control. She decided to try to catch him by surprise another time.

"How is it going down there?" called Thranduil from the campfire.

Legolas looked guilty. "Soon finished!"

They hastily returned, taking their places around the fire.

Thranduil regarded them thoughtfully, one eyebrow raised, but didn't say anything.

"So, a free day tomorrow then," said Wynne. "That means we can sleep in. Any fire water left?"

The elf brothers began a new song, this one so well known even Wynne could join in. Her soprano was not all bad, she reckoned, and she liked to sing.

To her delight Legolas also took part. He was a bass, which was what one might expect from his speaking voice, and a good one too. She really must hold him to his promise and have him sing to her privately sometime.

When night fell, Wynne was more than a little drunk and unsteadily went to her tent. The drink had made her drowsy and she could hardly keep her eyes up when she undressed.

But as she lay tucked in her bedroll she found that she still couldn't fall asleep. For no apparent reason her heart beat faster and faster, and an uncomfortable chill rushed along her spine, forcing her wide awake. Orc faces paraded before her vision; those she were kidnapped by and the one with an arrow in its cheek. It was like a bad dream, but one she couldn't wake up from.

Sitting up, she tried to rub away the images, almost banging her head with her fists, but nothing helped.

She wanted to scream in frustration. How long would this hopeless insomnia last? This awful, irrational panic. She hated it.

In the end she had to resort to the horses again. The air was more damp this close to the river, and a bit chilly, but it worked anyway. Within moments of mounting Vatna she slept soundly on the mare's back.

oOo

Despite her talk yesterday of sleeping in, Wynne woke only a few hours later. She started the day with an icy cold swim that cleared her head nicely and chased away the headache that had begun to form.

Legolas, who had the early morning watch, came down to join her.

"Oh, hello Leggy."

"Good morning, Lembas Lover." His face turned serious. "I noticed you slept outside tonight. Why? Even here, danger lurks."

"I'm safe with the horses."

"You have a nice tent. Why not use it? All that space to yourself while others – such as myself – must lay cramped and listen to my tentmate's snores."

"Thranduil snores? Really?" Wynne shook her head in disbelief. "I'd never have guessed."

"He does." Legolas nodded solemnly.

"Maybe I can sneak in sometime and listen." She laughed at his shocked look.

"You are evading the question. Why do you sleep on your horse?"

"I dunno, I just sleep better there." Wynne shifted uncomfortably and dove back into the river to evade further questions.

When she emerged Legolas had finished bathing and was braiding his hair.

She tried to use the water as a mirror but her dropping head made it difficult. She was sure her hair must look like the wiry end of a besom though; the pretty braids Legolas had made a few days back had almost disappeared under stray strands of hair.

She undid them with some effort, losing a few tufts of hair in the process. "Can you plait my hair too when you are done? If it's not too much trouble."

"Of course, no trouble at all. I enjoy doing it." He glanced at her bare calves and wet outfit and averted his eyes with an embarrassed cough.

Wynne was glad her chemise was wide and nontransparent.

When Legolas had finished his own braids and moved closer to begin on hers, she noticed that his undershirt was thinner than hers. The damp fabric clung to him and revealed the shape of his muscled chest. Being an archer, he must have very strong arms, and it showed.

She wondered what he looked like without a shirt and how his skin would feel if she touched it.

Just then he looked up, smirking.

She realized she had been staring and quickly turned her head toward the river. A pair of black swans came serenely swimming down it. "I heard those used to be Sauron's spies," she said, trying to hide her embarrassment at being caught ogling him like that.

"Aye. But they are free now." He stood on his knees behind her and began combing her hair. Like before, his touch sent warm tingles through her body.

He took longer this time. The bone comb soon glided through her tresses without resistance, yet he continued, stroking her hair almost reverently.

At last he moved to her side and started on the braids, standing so close she felt air tickling her neck when he breathed.

He seemed intently focused on what he was doing so she seized the opportunity to study his beautiful face, peeking sideways rather uncomfortably to avoid turning her head in a telltale way. His skin really was amazingly smooth, even this close, without even a hint of facial hair except for slender eyebrows and long, dark lashes. Under them his irises were an unusual shade of blue, almost gray, like the sky of a summer evening. His nose was straight and his jawline strong and masculine, and he had pointed ears like all elves – but somehow his were prettier.

She suddenly wanted him to hug her again, like he did after her rescue – but not to comfort her, this time. Another kind of hug.

Again she thought of Mother's demands. Marry an elf... the king or his father. Would Legolas accept her if she asked?

Or was that not the way this was done? Maybe she had to wait until he asked.

Just thinking about it filled her with a swarm of butterflies. Something was happening. Something new and amazing.

Legolas had completed one set of braids and moved to her other side. She innocently turned her gaze back at the swans and saw that one of them had buried its long neck into the rippling water. Its black, webbed feet waggled in the air.

They heard voices from above as the others were waking up. Legolas threw several glances at the tents while finishing the final braids a lot faster.

Why did he suddenly seem so nervous?

He was just done when Thranduil and Galion came down to the shore. Wynne could tell from Thranduil's lowered eyebrows that he was not pleased when he saw what his son had been doing.

It surprised her, but also made Legolas' behavior more understandable. Clearly hair and braids meant something different to elves than humans.

Legolas hurried away, muttering something about dirty laundry, but before Wynne could follow him Thranduil put a hand on her arm.

"May I have a word with you in private, my lady?"

Uh-oh, he was back to calling her "my lady" again. That didn't bode well.

A/N:

I wish they had let Orlando Bloom keep his own eye color as Legolas... His real eyes really are rather amazing (see below). 

Oh, and for a taste of Thranduil's singing voice, search for "Lee Pace singing" on Youtube or watch the clip below! :)

Orlando Bloom, in the movie Troy.

https://youtu.be/jtLWUFm4NMg

Lee Pace (acting Thranduil in the Hobbit movies), singing.

Image Credits:

Top image: Public domain (Pexels), source: https://www.pexels.com/photo/bird-lake-nature-sunset-74047/

Orlando Bloom image: https://i.pinimg.com/originals/72/3f/82/723f827803a27c9fbaa761137b99f324.jpg