Darkest Nights | Love of Royals: Book II

XXVII: Never Change

Fíria's POV

For a moment, I expect to be back in my old cell, leant against an unforgiving stone wall. But instead, as my eyes flicker awake, I feel the softness of a sweat-soaked bed beneath my chest and the powerful scent of herbs fills my nose. A healing room—it's a healing room. Legolas, Fírion and the others must have brought me here... for the last thing I remember is an orb dissolving in my brother's hands, and Legolas not speaking a word to me as I told what I had never found the strength to tell.

An involuntary groan escapes my lips as I attempt to move, the muscles in my back screaming as they tense, and my face scrunches up with the effort. I manage to shift further up onto the generous stack of pillows behind me, turning onto my side, and—and he's here. Legolas, sat on a bench with his arms braced across his knees, is here.

And he smiles, just a little. Something in his posture relaxes, as though relief is flooding through his body. Relief that I actually woke up.

'Fíria... you're awake,' he observes, the pale morning illuminating his skin and hair as he leans forward into the light from the window.

'Legolas... oh, Legolas, I'm sorry—' I begin, straining to haul my body upright, but he silences me.

'Shh. Hold on—slow down.' He reaches out and lays a warm hand on my arm, gently easing me back onto the pillows.

'No, I have to—I have to get up—'

'No, you don't,' he says. I stop fighting against him, despite needing to see the others, just to check how they are after last night. 'Just sit up, alright? Slowly. Elena and Tauriel did an excellent job at healing you, but your back may still be sore.'

Defeated, I flop back onto the pillows, and my back smarts. I'd missed his beautiful voice, even if I only heard it last night—and the last things he had said were angry and broken. It was my fault.

'They healed me?'

'They did, and they did it well,' Legolas replies, 'Elena's power works far more efficiently than the any other treatments, but Tauriel's medicinal skill aided it further. And you needed Star magic to banish your father's. A few maids changed you out of your catsuit a little while after.'

As I glance down at the pale cream nightdress now enrobing my body, I wonder if Gelya was among them.

'Is Lyrenna alright?' I begin to ask, 'and Erainiel? And Ílren—no, F... Fírion. Is he alright? My brother?'

'They're all perfectly fine,' he reassures me. His hand, still on my arm, gives a gentle squeeze. 'You're definitely in the worst shape out of all of us. Did you know today is Dúrin's Day? It's a celebration among the dwarves.'

'I did not. Legolas, I'm sorry—'

He offers me a steaming bowl from the bedside table, filled to the brim with thick liquid. 'Eat this first.'

I give it a sniff. 'What is it?'

'Herbal broth, prepared by healers,' says Legolas, lowering it into my hands, 'it'll help, I promise.'

Dismissively, I nudge it back at him and squirm further up the pillows. 'I don't need any help, I'm fine. I just have to—'

'Fíria,' he insists. 'Eat it. Do yourself and all of us a favour, and look after yourself. We can talk when you've finished.'

Sighing deeply, I take the bowl and the spoon, and begin to eat. The rich, overpowering herbal taste spreads across my tongue, still steaming as it runs down my throat. Legolas sits back against the wall and patiently waits for me to finish; the warmth in his eyes is something I've missed so much, and I haven't even fully explained my apology.