To Live Again: In her Hands {Lord of the Rings / Thranduil fanfic}

3. Beautiful Disaster

AN: Set the night Thranduil returns from his day (and evening) with Clara in the woods. I don't own the image and I can't find the artist...but it's amazing right? So yea thanks to the talented artist.
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There you go...sweet dreams my little leaf."

"Nigh-nmm."

Legolas wriggles into the covers, burrowing his head into the plump downy softness of his pillows. His cheeks flushed pink with sleep, his eyes clouded in dreams. I can't help myself as I gently stroke the soft tuffs of his golden hair, were they have stuck to his face. Grinning proudly, I lean in and press a kiss to his blazing brow, pausing to breathe in his elfling scent.
If I could keep him like this forever I surely would. 

Every battle, every war, every wound and scar is all worth it, if it keeps him safe, if it secures his freedom. I would take it all again - gladly - if it meant he would never live in a world doused in evil again. If I could spare him such sacrifices I would...but such miracles are nothing more than whimsical daydreams. He will fight one day - but not for as long as I can avoid it.

Straightening up from his bed, I wearily amble into the hallway, hoping I can navigate my way to my bathing rooms without bumping into Adar. That is another meeting I am happy to avoid for as long as possible. He wants to see me, I'm sure to point out my lack of responsibility to my title, but I need to bathe...I really need to bathe.

Mercifully, after a few near misses with servants...who'd likely rat me out in a heartbeat....I slip into my own chambers. Trailing off clothing, piece by grubby price, I finally reach my desired destination.

The inviting sound of rushing water, from the overhead spring that runs down the rocks and into bathing pool, beckons to me. I know the showering water is cool, but not uncomfortably so - the thermal energy of the caves maintains a desirable temperature. If I wanted anything warmer I would have a servant draw a bath, but it's not heat I need...I need to cool down...I need to calm down.

There is a quivering knot in the lowest pit of my stomach. I can ignore it for the most part, but not always. At times it snags and pulses, tormenting me with a slew of unwanted desires. Desires that circulate every time I so much as think of how her body felt against mine...how enticingly soft her lips felt, when I stupidly attempted to kiss her!

What insanity drove me to act so recklessly, so beyond decorum, and propriety? I can not blame her, she was not to fault, she never so much as expected it...but then she never exactly refused the notion either? She didn't recoil...could I have encouraged her? Would she have let me if I had of persisted instead of retreating like a coward?

The moment I let the question form in my mind, is the moment my imagination alights. Without permission that knot tightens and coils, and a heat spikes through my fea - it is not an unwelcome sensation, In fact it is too welcoming.  I practically lunge into the cool water of the spring, so as to muffle an excitable groan, and still the flying of my spiked pulse.

What have you done...you fool?

I inhale with deliberate slowness, then gratefully accept the calmness that comes with my steadied exhale. I focus on the invigorating water, as it pours over my head and down my neck, streaming down my back and legs, and pooling in every little crevice and dip in my scarred skin.

Gently I tip my head fully back, letting the water crash over my broken face. Parting my lips out of habit, I fill my mouth with the clean water, in my vain attempt to cleanse myself.

Once I feel like I have squashed any further desires, I run my bands over my face and through my hair, then spit out the water held in my mouth. With a shake I bring myself forward, and rest my head on the wet stone of the cave wall in front of me, until my breathing relaxes and my senses return.