Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings, or have any such affiliations. Neither do I own Little Talks by Of Monsters and Men. I only own the plot to this story.
Summary: Legolas passes through the day, much as he has every day for the last couple years or so. But all is not as it once was.
Thank you Dragonb8! ^0^
NOTE: This story was also written with Ireadtomuch in mind. I hope you like it, dear; this is for you. Though after hearing my beta's comments, I'm not too sure it'll actually put a smile on your face so much. Still...
˙~ Little Talks ~˙
Legolas turned on the Wizarding Wireless Network to the station playing this afternoon's Quidditch game and then went back into the kitchen to finish fixing his lunch.
Harry threw himself down on the edge of the couch, immediately beginning to cheer and groan intermittently as he listened to the play-by-play of the two teams battling it out.
Legolas sat cross-legged on the window seat in the kitchen with a cup of tea in his hand and a plated sandwich resting within reach. He looked outside on the rainy day and commented aloud how the rain should be good for the gardens.
Harry walked away from the living room as the game came to an end and went to sit down beside Legolas, leaning against his shoulder as he stared out at the same dreary skies. He hummed in agreement at Legolas' comment and added one of his own on what a perfect day it was to go dancing in the rain.
"Life's not about waiting for the storm to pass," Legolas breathed lightly on the window pane, "it's about learning to dance in the rain." Taking a sip of his tea, he closed his eyes and sighed wearily. "You taught me that, Harry." Several minutes passed before he took in another deep breath to whisper, "I would go dancing in the rain with you any day."
Harry smiled and leant over to place a light kiss along Legolas' jaw.
Legolas slowly got up, leaving his tea and sandwich half finished on the seat, to go outside and take a walk along his gardens to see how they were faring in this early spring weather.
Harry got up and followed.
That night, Legolas stripped his clothes with clinical efficiency and climbed into the left side of the bed. Sitting with his legs pulled up to his chest, he propped his chin atop his knees, staring out at the shadows on the walls created by the light of the candle. There was neither moon nor stars visible tonight as the sky was covered with deep grey and blue storm clouds that continued to roll in with each passing hour.
Lightning flashed. Thunder followed twenty seconds later. And the walls groaned and creaked under unseen pressure.
"I used to love thunder storms as a child because they were so loud and exciting." Legolas suddenly spoke, his lips brushing against the tops of his knees. "But then I would see all the damage they could cause to the forest in just one night and I felt resentment fill up my heart to see such strong trees that had stood tall for years uprooted, to see branches cracked and fallen, leaving gaping, jagged wounds that could not be healed. It seemed to me to be the saddest thing in the world and I decided to forever set my heart against all thunderstorms and the destruction they caused."
Legolas turned his face to Harry's side of the bed and smiled. "But then I came here and you taught me to love them again." He hugged his legs closer to his chest and released a sigh through his nose. "You know," he said, freeing a hand to brush a finger across the soft cotton bedspread, "the child in your heart never died. Even after living through two wars, your faith stood strong, like the ancient tree that outlived every storm to keep growing and reaching into the heavens." He paused then, staring out into nothing at the other end of the room. "Into the heavens themselves," he murmured softly.
With a wistful smile, Legolas raised his head to fix his gaze on the raging storm outside. "Being able to see the world through your eyes was what kept my body here, living in this universe with you, when all sense told me I should be with my people."
"And because I already had your heart," Harry said with a confident, lopsided smile, lounging across the right end of the bed and cradling the side of his head in his hands as he looked up at Legolas endearingly.
"And because my heart was already spoken for," Legolas repeated the words nostalgically, "my soul could only follow your lead."
Another flash of lightning lit up the room, making the dark green of the walls stand in sharp contrast to the cream colour of the carpet for a split second. And then the whole room seemed to shake fifteen seconds later as the thunder inevitably followed.
The storm was getting closer.
"But even with vows made and our souls entwined as one," Legolas whispered into the deafening silence that followed the loud clap of thunder, "we always knew that neither magic nor elven promises would ever be able to speed up time or defend the heart from the tragedies inflicted on us by living in this world."
After letting an even deeper silence settle around the room in the wake of his words, Legolas turned to blow out the candle by his bedside, plunging the room into a darkness that was all-encompassing and complete, as the sounds of the storm that had only worsened since midday continued to play raucously outside.
Closing his eyes, Legolas slid down under the covers and rested his head on Harry's pillow, breathing in its lasting scent.
"Ollo vae," Harry whispered as Legolas' face relaxed in sleep. (Dream well)
Harry moved to press his forehead against Legolas', but his eyes remained open as he watched his elf fall into a deep slumber, letting the beating winds and violent rain lull him into a peaceful calm.
The next morning, Legolas rolled over onto his side, but refused to open his eyes. He did not want to get up. He did not want to do anything. He did not want to be here anymore. And he refused to remain much longer.
"Legolas," Harry whispered from behind, carding a hand through the elf's flaxen locks, "It's time to get up." Stretching, he laid a lingering kiss on Legolas' temple and then let his head come to rest on his lover's shoulder. "Good morning, good morning, let's come greet the day," he sang softly into Legolas' ear, "Your long ears and whiskers say you've had too much time for play."
Harry chuckled softly under his breath as he finished, blowing across the shell of Legolas' ear for good measure.
Eyes still closed, Legolas smiled slightly and Harry could feel his body exhale in a short chuckle. "I loved it when you would wake me with a song," he whispered. "You used to love that silly one my father would sing to me when I stayed in bed too long as a child." Rolling on his back, he tilted his head to the ceiling but still refused to open his eyes. "As you know, I was a surprisingly lazy elfling up until my fiftieth year. I did not see the point of waking up with the sun's first rays when one could wait for it to light up the entire sky; a habit my father was most relieved to break me of.
"And then over four hundred years later, after learning to truly appreciate the joys of the cold morning dawn, you were able to remind me of the joys of sleeping in once more. My father would have been truly exasperated with the both of us." His smile turned sad and then faded altogether. "If only you could have met him."
Swallowing and clearing his throat as he mentally tried to pull his thoughts away from his father, Legolas turned over to bury his face in Harry's pillow as he curled himself into a ball tightly.
"But I need to hear you sing to me again, even so horribly out of tune as you do," he said with a muffled chuckle that was buried in soft fabric, while Harry let out an indignant cry, demanding Legolas to 'take it back'. "For I do not think I will be able to get up today if I do not hear your voice once more."
Harry sighed, all joviality gone and he reached to pull Legolas into his arms. Speaking softly in his ear, he whispered promises in elvish. "You can always hear my voice, and you will always feel me with you, for I will never leave your side. But I cannot help you if you choose not to listen."
Legolas said nothing more, but several minutes later with a great, heaving moan, he pushed himself out of bed and went to get ready.
Harry let him go and then sat up on the bed, silently watching Legolas dress for the day. He reached out a hand to his husband, but his action went unacknowledged as Legolas left the room. Harry could barely make out the light groans of the old staircase as Legolas made his way down to breakfast.
Frowning in worry and regret, Harry took a moment to steel himself and gather the strength to follow.
When he did, he found Legolas standing frozen in front of the pantry, staring down at nothing. It looked like he had not moved for several minutes, and Harry dearly wished he could physically shake his lover and make him wake up and take notice. But as it was, he could only watch.
Smiling sadly, Harry walked over, wrapped his arms around Legolas' chest, and then rested his head in the crook of Legolas' neck. And he waited.
Eventually, Legolas blinked, took one look around the kitchen, and then walked out to go sit in the living room. He sat down in the chair by the window, bent over to turn on the WWN, and then sat back and let the familiarity of the sounds and the background noise it created fade around him.
Harry sat on the couch across from him and lay back, listening to the wireless while never letting his eyes stray from Legolas' form.
Morning turned into afternoon and afternoon into night, but neither moved.
Legolas loss all track of time as he stared unseeingly out the window as it went from light to dark, and then light again. He did not acknowledge the songs of the birds, the tinkling of the wind chimes on the back porch, the change of broadcast on the wireless, or even the strong gale that hailed raindrops on the glass pane before him.
But he did hear the humming.
Legolas stirred for the first time in hours as he caught the sound of a hauntingly familiar voice filling his ears with a well-known tune. Turning his head, he gasped softly as his eyes took in a sight he had thought was forever lost to him: Harry in all his youth reclining along the loveseat, easy smile on his face, and gaze returning Legolas' lovingly.
"Hey," Harry said softly, grin widening as Legolas continued to look straight at him.
"Elë!" Legolas cried, all breath in his body leaving him in one fell swoop as he froze in place.
And for a moment out of time, the two just sat looking at one another.
Eventually, Legolas stood up and walked slowly around the small table to stand in front of Harry, looking down at him as though they had not seen each other in many years.
And for Legolas, he hadn't.
"I know your face," Legolas breathed softly, tears choking his voice as an amazed, delirious smile began to light up his own. "I know your face," he repeated, reaching down to take Harry's face in his hands. He caressed his lover's smooth cheek in his palm, pushed away the black fringe with the backs of his fingers, and then followed the line of Harry's nose to his lips to his chin with one finger, reverently.
Harry moved his legs to make room and then pulled Legolas down to sit beside him and against him.
"Where have you been?" Legolas asked, curling up into Harry's side, Harry's arms coming around him to pull him closer, and Legolas rested his head comfortably against Harry's shoulder in response. Feeling the peace, happiness, and relief wash over him, warming his heart that had been left cold for too long, he sighed contently and returned the embrace. "I've been talking to you for years, but you've never answered."
Harry shook his head. "I did. You just weren't listening." And with that, he turned his head to lay a kiss on Legolas' forehead.
And this time, Legolas felt it.
"Tolo ar nin," Harry commanded gently, squeezing Legolas in his hold. (Come with me)
That was all Legolas needed to hear; closing his eyes, he nodded his head and did not feel the slightest surprise when he opened them again to find they were no longer in the house they had built together over a century ago. Instead, he saw the white shores of his homeland.
Seagulls cried overhead, casting shadows in the sand before them against the bright, blinding sun, and the waves lapped noisily just a few feet away.
"Welcome to the Undying Lands, we have reached the Bay of Eldamar," Harry announced, throwing his arms wide to present the beautiful scene in front of them.
Speechless, Legolas turned in his lover's hold to ask a silent question.
"Magical vows and elven promises are much more powerful than you thought. And while elves are truly immortal beings, so are human souls." Pulling Legolas' lips to his own, Harry smiled into the kiss. "Welcome home."
And he was.
A/N: Well, a conversation of a recent death reminded me of how an older woman I know used to turn the TV on to play the baseball game after her husband had died because it was what she was used to and she missed him so much. That little memory in my head combined with the fact that I've loved the song Little Talks for over a year now and I was itching to do something with it, led the two thoughts to come together at the right time and this is what was produced.
Besides my lovely beta, did anyone else cry? Or was it just not enough to bring tears?
Anyway, thanks for reading!