The Exile's Daughter

Adjusting

I was bundled cosily up in the blankets, my back to Legolas' bed, and my covers were thicker than usual. His best blanket was draped on top of mine and tucked in under my chin. I couldn't help but smile.

The wavering late autumn light was full in the hut. Despite our desperate need for rest, we had talked into the early hours. The spot where I had been clubbed the previous day ached dully.

Eventually, Legolas had told me the full story of his adventures with Mallor. Crucially, they had found Mithrandir, and he was making his way to Imladris. He would still need all the skills he possessed, for the lands were perilous, and it would take months for him to arrive, but at least the task was set in motion. They had also been caught in the midst of another orc group, though the full company was luckily elsewhere. It seemed they were closing ranks around us. 

At this thought, I rapidly turned my thoughts to the other, more pleasant, aspects of our happy time spent together. I grinned irresistibly for a moment, lost in memories.

He was sitting in bed with his injured leg propped up on his cloak when I rolled over, dressed in his thin undertunic and darning the green tunic he always wore with a most impatient expression on his face. So focused was he that he did not notice me for some time. I watched the furrow of his brow. His careful hands, usually so adept at any task he put his mind to, were utterly failing to repair the tear.

"Has that tunic caused you particular grievance, or are you merely in the mood for stabbing something?"

Legolas' careful, and incorrect, placing of the needle was ruined. He jumped at my voice and looked up in surprise. "How long have you been awake?"

"Only a minute or so. Did I get cold?"

Legolas cocked his head to one side. "You were shaking, so I thought I should warm you up. Did you have bad dreams?"

"Not that I remember." I shrugged, shifting into a sitting position and leaning against the wall, tugging his blanket up to my waist. "Anyway, what cause could I have for bad dreams?" He smiled blissfully across at me. I watched him struggle to repair his tunic for a few more minutes, with many more tuts and sighs. "Oh, give it here." I grumbled.

Legolas looked up and grinned in relief. "Ness, you are the best person I have ever met. If I ever tease you-"

"-I'll know you are in a good mood again." I finished, taking the tunic as he rose with difficulty. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Nowhere?" Legolas replied uncertainly, sitting down heavily. I lifted my blankets invitingly, patted the space next to me and rolled my eyes.

"I will show you how to do it without leaving a seam. I am not one of your countless maids."

"You're far more skilled", Legolas assured with a smile, shuffling carefully over and joining me under the blankets. "I must find some way to show my gratitude." He whispered, his breath warming my pointed ear. I batted him away with a laugh and began to undo his messy stitching.

A few quiet minutes passed while Legolas watched my practiced hands repair the tunic. He was an attentive student, to his credit. When he tried to continue my seamless work, it was not quite as perfect, though it was certainly neater than before. When we had finished, the tunic looked as if it had never been ripped at all.

"Thank you, my Ness", he smiled. He took the tunic and slung it over his arm, then leant over to kiss me. The feeling was such a wonderful novelty to both of us. He wrapped his other arm around my shoulder to pull me closer and I tangled my fingers in his soft hair.