Part Nineteen
Rúmil of Lórien did not go looking for trouble. Instead, trouble always found him. He had
awakened with a head pounding like a war drum, and after five or six blurry minutes of
trying to calculate how much wine he had consumed the night before, he gave up and
rolled back over, covering his head with his pillow.
He was vaguely aware of Orophin telling him that dawn had come, and that he should rise.
He told Oro that his head was fine, and please leave him alone. Orophin left quietly, and a
moment later Rúmil heard him talking to Haldir outside. He could not make out what they
were saying, nor did he care at the moment. All he wanted was to go back to sleep.
An indeterminate amount of time passed before Rúmil realized that sleep would not have
him. He sat up and ran a hand through his hair, his fingers tangling in his braids. Rúmil
sighed. He would have to fix those, he supposed. He wished Oro had not left. His hair
always looked much better when his brother assisted him with it. For now he let it be. His
head still ached. He should have known better than to keep holding his goblet out to
Celeborn who had rarely directed his attention at Rúmil anyway.
He could understand why Celeborn had given himself to Thranduil in the end, but why did
he prefer Oro over Rúmil? Rúmil would have been willing… Well, maybe that was the
lord's pleasure. Maybe he preferred the thrill of the hunt.
Next there was Arwen. What was she doing, lurking around the tree last night? Was she
looking for him? Orophin had come in last night and told him that Arwen claimed to be in
love with Rúmil. Oro thought it was hilarious, but Rúmil was sure that this was some mad
plot of hers to get him in even more hot water. He weighed the options of confronting her
about it and avoiding her entirely.
Rúmil would have liked to have seen her father in that moment. Elrond always had a
recipe for soothing an aching head handy. Looking for Elrond would mean facing Arwen
while he was not able to think straight so that plan was out. Perhaps Haldir had something
in his talan. His brother was good at mixing herbs, though he rarely spent much time doing
so. Still, he could generally be counted on to have necessary remedies available. Rúmil and
Orophin were constantly needing them.
Rúmil stood up and stretched. He was still dressed in the leggings and tunic he had donned
the day before. He had never taken them off to sleep. Haldir would not be home, he
recalled, and he hated for his brothers to enter his talan when he was not there, but that
was simply too bad. Rúmil's pain was stronger than his fear of Haldir. Besides, had not
Haldir taken Legolas into his room last night? Surely he would be in a good mood, and
willing to forgive a little trespassing.
Rúmil was only a little jealous that he had not had the Prince of Mirkwood for himself. He
would not begrudge Haldir anything, for certainly Haldir had far less sport than Rúmil, or
even Orophin. Still, the kiss on the stairs yesterday had been so delicious, and Legolas had
flirted with him constantly until the moment Haldir entered the room. Lord Thranduil was
said to be shameless. Perhaps Legolas simply took after his father.
Legolas certainly resembled Thranduil in looks, Rúmil thought as he stepped out onto the
balcony. It was a beautiful, warm sunny morning and the heated wood felt good against
his bare feet. He turned up his face to the sun. Thranduil was more muscular, more
powerful, taller, bigger. He would have stayed to watch him with Celeborn all night
(hoping perhaps to be invited into the sport) but Orophin had steered him out of there
eventually. It was probably for the best, since he had already consumed more wine than he
should have.
What would happen did he turn his attention to Thranduil?
Now there was an intriguing thought, Rúmil mused as he turned and began to climb the
steps to Haldir's talan, but Lord Thranduil might prove too much for even Rúmil to
handle. He could imagine the King of Mirkwood taking him home as a souvenir, trussed
up and tossed over the back of his saddle. Galadriel would probably let him, too.
He slipped noiselessly into Haldir's room and headed for the shelf where his brother stored
herbs, dishes, knives and other assorted items. He was so busy trying to recall what the
name of the drug he wanted was that he did not realize he was not alone in the room.
"Rúmil?"
Rúmil spun around, nearly knocking the shelf over. "Legolas! What do you here?"
"Surely you saw me come in with Haldir last night," Legolas said, smiling slowly.
"I heard Haldir go out at dawn," Rúmil said, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "I
thought you would have gone with him."
"I wished to stay in his bed," Legolas said.
He reclined against the pillows, a thin silk sheet swathed about his hips. Rúmil was certain
that he wore nothing underneath it. The sight of Legolas' clothing lying on the floor
confirmed this notion. The prince's golden hair spread over the pillows, his braids in even
more disarray than Rúmil's.
"I imagine it is far more comfortable without him in it," Rúmil teased.
"Oh, not to me," Legolas replied. "Still, I would not keep him from his bath, when surely
he needed it. I have not forgotten how fond of washing he is."
"Is that where he went?"
"You knew he was not here, so what have you come in search of?"
"Something for my head. Celeborn was generous with his bottles last night."
"Have you not learned when to stop, Rúmil?"
"Yes. I stop when all the bottles are empty, or I have a better offer."
Legolas laughed. "There will be more tonight, I understand," he said.
"Yes, the banquet. Perhaps you will have to keep an eye on my cups."
"I should be happy to try, but that I intend to have both eyes, and perhaps both hands, on
Haldir."
Rúmil shook his head and turned back to the shelf he had been rifling. "You are wicked,
Legolas Greenleaf."
"Only on very rare occasions."
"Pity you are not wicked all the time." Rúmil found what he was looking for and took it
over to the water pitcher on Haldir's table. The pitcher was empty. He cursed, then went
and sat down on the bed. "I cannot walk all the way back down to my own room to get
water," he moaned.
"Then you will have to suffer," Legolas said. He picked up a brush from the bedside table
and began to brush Rúmil's hair. "Had you company last night, or did you tangle this all on
your own?"
"I am a restless sleeper. Spend tonight with me and Oro and you will see," Rúmil teased. It
felt good, the gentle fingers of Legolas on his braids. If only his head ached not so much.
He looked at the herb again, unwrapping the leaf that held it as he waited for Legolas to
finish fixing his hair. Finally Rúmil tilted his head back, and poured it dry into his mouth.
"Ai, how can you bear the bitter taste?" Legolas gasped as Rúmil swallowed the papery
substance, trying not to choke on it.
"Desperation, my friend. Would you like some?"
"Well… perhaps a little."
Rúmil passed the herb back to Legolas and listened to him gag as he took it. He smirked
slightly, then turned to peer over his shoulder. The empty leaf had fallen to the floor, a few
bits of crushed herb clinging to it. "I knew this was the reason you lay in this bed still. Too
much wine for you as well!"
"Please," Legolas said in a raspy voice, his blue eyes watering, "Do not tell Haldir."
"Had you told him yourself, no doubt he would have fetched you some water! Then
neither of us would have had to suffer."
Legolas laughed, but choked on his laughter. When finally he stopped, he lay back against
the pillows, drawing in a sharp breath. Rúmil turned around, looking down at him. His
headache was melting away, but the dizziness of his over-consumption of wine still
lingered. In fact, the dizziness seemed to have increased.
"Are you sure that was a headache remedy, Rúmil?"
"Nothing hurts, does it?" Rúmil said. It seemed that his voice came from someone else.
"No, nothing hurts," Legolas whispered. "In fact, I feel… I feel…"
He trailed off. Legolas laughed, and his laughter seemed to echo in Rúmil's ears. It
warmed him and soothed him. Legolas reached up and played with the end of one of the
braids he had put in Rúmil's hair. Rúmil plunged his hands into Legolas' hair on both sides
of his head.
"Your hair is like silk," he said.
"Are you flirting with me, Rúmil?"
"Am I? No, Haldir would kill me."
"I am in love with Haldir," Legolas sighed, his soft, pink lips parting slightly. "I would not
let him kill you."
Rúmil thought he heard whistling in the distance, a buoyant tune that lifted his heart and
reminded him of when he had been a small elfling. He knew not if his lips came to Legolas'
or if the prince had kissed him first. Suddenly their mouths melded together, and Rúmil
was lying flat on the bed, his arms and legs around Legolas. Legolas' tongue tasted bitter
from the herb they had shared.
Noise came from outside. Rúmil thought he heard the sounds of his brothers arguing. He
lifted his head and tried to focus on Legolas' face but all he could see were big blue eyes,
wide and empty.
"Heard you that?" Rúmil said.
"Something is wrong," Legolas said, "But I know not what. Was that Haldir?"
"Rúmil!" Orophin's voice echoed sharply through the room. It took all of Rúmil's strength
to roll over onto his back. He could see the figure of his brother in the doorway. Two
other elves were behind him, but he was having trouble making them out. "What are you
doing?"
"Is something wrong, Orophin?"
Arwen stepped out from behind Orophin and Rúmil groaned. She set her hands on her
hips. He rubbed his eyes, but she was still hazy at the edges. Her dress was green and
quite becoming.
"Arwen, you look lovely this morning," he said.
"How can the two of you be so cruel to Haldir?" Arwen snapped.
"What are you speaking of?" Legolas said from beside Rúmil, sounding thoroughly
confused.
"He was just here and saw the two of you lying in his bed," Orophin said grimly.
"We were not doing anything," Rúmil said.
"Truly?" said Arwen. She stomped over to the bed and lifted up the sheet. "Legolas
appears to be quite naked."
Legolas grabbed the sheet and pulled it back down. "I was naked before Rúmil arrived.
Truly, what has this to do with anything? I would never hurt Haldir. Tell him to come
back…please…"
"And tell him to bring us some water," Rúmil added. He closed his eyes and rested his
hand over his face. He wished everyone would leave. He wanted suddenly to sleep again.
He would make sense of what Arwen and Oro were saying later.
"Did you take this herb?" The voice of Amroth cut through Rúmil's brain. Rúmil forced his
eyes open again and saw the lost king holding the empty leaf.
"It is to cure headaches," said Legolas in a small voice. "Is it not?"
"Yes, in small amounts, mixed with water only," Amroth said grimly. "Arwen--"
"I will fetch my father," Arwen said, sounding frightened. She turned and fled the room.
"Amroth?" Orophin's voice held a question.
"They have over-dosed themselves," Amroth replied.
Rúmil closed his eyes again. "I am sorry, Legolas."
Legolas did not answer.
