In Twilight
folder
-Multi-Age › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
21
Views:
8,142
Reviews:
47
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
21
Views:
8,142
Reviews:
47
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Shared Victory
Chapter 18: Shared Victory
Summary: The fighting is over, the dark armies destroyed and yet there is no sign of Elladan; Legolas fears for the worse.
It was over and they had won, but the wounded and dead were still numerous. The wounded were carried to the healing houses to be attended to; the dead were also carried away to be buried properly; the Uruk-hai and Orcs were piled to be burned. They had found Merry with Eowyn, the King Theoden next to them; he had died valiantly in battle, and would be honored for it. The little Hobbit and the White Maiden were injured and taken away, their wounds grievous. Though he had vowed not to step into Minas Tirith until the appropriate time, Aragorn followed into the city to attend to the injured.
Others, however, remained on the battlefield, searching for those who still possessed some sign of life. Among them was a lone Dwarf, shifting through the carcasses with his axe, being rather gentle with the bodies of fallen Men when he encountered them. With him were two elves, the youngest son of Elrond and the youngest prince of Mirkwood. Together they searched for one amongst the fallen, one whom they had lost sight of during the heavy battling. They each prayed they would not find him as lifeless as the corpses before them.
“Elbereth, where is he?!” Legolas’ voice sounded rather frenzied as he searched the battlefield with maddening speed. His heart was racing, blood pumping in a thunderous roar in his ears as blue eyes darted left, right, everywhere. His footsteps were light yet quicker than normal as his searching became almost frantic.
“Lad, get a hold of yourself!” Gimli shouted at his friend, his voice surprisingly calm and even. He understood what Legolas must be going through; the joy that surged at finding his love was not the body before him, mixed with the dread that Elladan might be the next. The Dwarf was mildly put out by the indecisive display of emotions, and that the young prince had not lost his head earlier. Sparing a glance to the elf at his left, Gimli was not surprised to find Elrohir’s lips grimly set in a thin line nor the slight worry that showed in his storm-gray eyes. They were all worried, the Dwarf no less than his companions, but somebody had to keep their head. “We’ll find him, Legolas.”
“Gimli is right, gwador,” Elrohir said. “Do not worry. I would know if something terrible happened to Elladan.”
Legolas seemed to visibly relax hearing Elrohir’s words. His limbs suddenly felt heavy as the weariness showed in his eyes; he was tired and in need of rest, as he knew his companions must be, but he was not yet willing to leave the bloodied field. Legolas wanted--needed--to find Elladan first and make sure his lover was all right; it was all he could think about right now.
“Legolas? Gwador?” Elrohir laid a gentle hand upon the prince’s shoulder, his thumb rubbing over the cloth-covered skin comfortingly. He knew his words had reassured his friend, but could clearly see that Legolas was still worried. “Come, rest. Master Gimli and I will continue searching. Be at ease, we will find him.”
The archer nodded and allowed himself to be steered to a clear patch of ground that had, miraculously, been spared of any mark of the bloodshed that had taken place. Legolas allowed Elrohir to help him sit on the ground comfortably before the twin resumed the search with Gimli. He sat quietly watching them, his knees drawn up close and his slender arms wrapped about them. The archer tried to keep his mind from thinking of the horrors that might have befallen his lover. Instead, he tried to concentrate on happier times, times they shared when their hearts were light and all they could think about was love.
Trenaro nin o pent alui trenare in pennar
Tolo annin in i aduial in laire môr an lû
Sano nin ad i dôr
Manke anírarim-nîn n'onnen
I fenedror edra i fen naa ned camlann-lîn
Si revio nin ennas
The words tumbled from his lips without Legolas even realizing it. He was unaware of the stunned looks etched upon Gimli and Elrohir’s faces as they and others still on the battlefield turned to the singing prince. The words kept coming, the song familiar. It was a song he knew well, one Legolas had sung the first night he had met Elladan. He sang the next verses unconsciously.
Milur utu sen menel in alui-meth alagor
Palantíri o rusva naa moeglîr an adonnen
Wait…what was that sound? Legolas sat up straighter, his ears straining to catch any sound. He was vaguely aware of Elrohir looking around as the twin also heard the sound. Swallowing thickly, the prince found his voice again.
Adgellam naa'nnas
In dôr en elei teli
I fenedror edra i fen naa ned camlann-lîn
Si revio nin ennas
There! The voice sounded again! Jumping to his feet, Legolas looked around the field, hoping to catch a glimpse of whomever it was he had heard. And then he saw him, a lone dark figure in the distance making its way slowly towards them. A tattered cloak blew his wake, sunlight streaming through their dark hair as gray eyes gazed up and a smile appeared.
“Elladan…” He raced along the bloody field as fast as his weary frame could carry him. All he could think about was the one in front of him, alive and as well as could be.
Elladan had stopped walking the moment he saw Legolas move, the gashes on his arm and across his hip forgotten as he caught the lithe form in his arms. He enfolded the familiar form of his lover in his arms, hugging him tightly as he felt kisses being planted over his face. “Legolas, melme…”
“You had me so worried!” Legolas nearly shouted, beating a fist on the light armor Elladan wore. “I thought…you might have…I didn’t…” He couldn’t voice his concerns as his voice choked and tears of relief filled his eyes.
“Forgive me, anor-nîn. Forgive me.” He pulled Legolas closer, hugging him as tightly as the pain in his left arm would allow. Neither were aware of the smiles on Elrohir and Gimli’s faces as they joined the lovers. All seemed well in the world.
~~~~~~~~~~
“You gave us all quite a scare, gwanur.”
“I can assure you that my intentions did not involve being swept away by a wayward band of Orcs only to fight them off on my own…Estel!” Elladan squirmed as Aragorn attempted to apply some balm to the twin’s various gashes, cuts and scrapes, but being far from soothing the paste was beginning to sting and burn. “Is that really made from athelas?”
“Yes, gwanur, it is,” Aragorn said in slight exasperation mixed with a bit of tiredness, ignoring the small chuckle Elrohir gave from over his shoulder. “Now will you kindly hold still so that I may attend to you?”
Elladan grumbled something unintelligible, but obediently sat still as Aragorn finished the cleansing and binding of his wounds. Behind the King, Elrohir, Legolas and Gimli waited in silence, each watching Aragorn perform his work to his satisfaction before stepping away from his eldest foster brother, who promptly began to redress.
“I would say you are fairly lucky, gwanur. Whatever created the wounds to your arm and hip was not poisoned. Just as a precautionary measure, I would suggest you take the next day to rest and heal so as not to aggravate the healing.”
“Now you sound like Ada, Estel.”
Aragorn snorted at the remark and turned to leave, followed by Elrohir who ushered Gimli out before him. Elladan was left alone with Legolas, who rose from the seat he had been occupying to sit next to his dark-haired lover.
“How do you feel?” Legolas asked in a quiet voice.
“Tired…well, exhausted is more like it. But I’m healing. My injuries are not so great.” Elladan sighed and wrapped an arm around the prince’s waist and drew him closer. He closed his eyes and rested his dark head upon his lover’s shoulder. Another sigh escaped his lips as Elladan felt Legolas’ fingers gently shift through his hair to untangle the locks. “I am sorry to have frightened you, anor-nîn.”
“You are all right; it matters not anymore. I thank the Valar that they returned you to me safely.” Legolas tenderly kissed his lover’s brow, drawing Elladan closer. “Rest, melme. Aragorn does not intend to ride out from a few more days. You need to rest and heal in the meantime.”
“Stay?” There was a small pleading tone in Elladan’s voice as he gazed up at Legolas.
“Of course.” He smiled when he observed the contentment that crossed the twin’s face. Legolas began to hum gently in an effort to lull his love to sleep; in a few moments, Elladan was gently dozing against his shoulder. Moving slowly so as not to awaken his lover, Legolas managed to maneuver them both into a lying position, pulling the sheets up about their forms. “Rest, ithil-nîn. Let me watch over your dreams.” Another smile graced Legolas’ fair face as Elladan shifted in his sleep to cuddle closer. The prince kissed his love’s cheeks, and began to hum again as the noise around them settled down and peace enveloped the lovers.
Translations:
Gwador-Brother (for those not blood related)
Melme-Love
Anor-nîn-My sun
Gwanur-Brother (for those blood related)
Ada-Father
Ithil-nîn-My moon
Summary: The fighting is over, the dark armies destroyed and yet there is no sign of Elladan; Legolas fears for the worse.
It was over and they had won, but the wounded and dead were still numerous. The wounded were carried to the healing houses to be attended to; the dead were also carried away to be buried properly; the Uruk-hai and Orcs were piled to be burned. They had found Merry with Eowyn, the King Theoden next to them; he had died valiantly in battle, and would be honored for it. The little Hobbit and the White Maiden were injured and taken away, their wounds grievous. Though he had vowed not to step into Minas Tirith until the appropriate time, Aragorn followed into the city to attend to the injured.
Others, however, remained on the battlefield, searching for those who still possessed some sign of life. Among them was a lone Dwarf, shifting through the carcasses with his axe, being rather gentle with the bodies of fallen Men when he encountered them. With him were two elves, the youngest son of Elrond and the youngest prince of Mirkwood. Together they searched for one amongst the fallen, one whom they had lost sight of during the heavy battling. They each prayed they would not find him as lifeless as the corpses before them.
“Elbereth, where is he?!” Legolas’ voice sounded rather frenzied as he searched the battlefield with maddening speed. His heart was racing, blood pumping in a thunderous roar in his ears as blue eyes darted left, right, everywhere. His footsteps were light yet quicker than normal as his searching became almost frantic.
“Lad, get a hold of yourself!” Gimli shouted at his friend, his voice surprisingly calm and even. He understood what Legolas must be going through; the joy that surged at finding his love was not the body before him, mixed with the dread that Elladan might be the next. The Dwarf was mildly put out by the indecisive display of emotions, and that the young prince had not lost his head earlier. Sparing a glance to the elf at his left, Gimli was not surprised to find Elrohir’s lips grimly set in a thin line nor the slight worry that showed in his storm-gray eyes. They were all worried, the Dwarf no less than his companions, but somebody had to keep their head. “We’ll find him, Legolas.”
“Gimli is right, gwador,” Elrohir said. “Do not worry. I would know if something terrible happened to Elladan.”
Legolas seemed to visibly relax hearing Elrohir’s words. His limbs suddenly felt heavy as the weariness showed in his eyes; he was tired and in need of rest, as he knew his companions must be, but he was not yet willing to leave the bloodied field. Legolas wanted--needed--to find Elladan first and make sure his lover was all right; it was all he could think about right now.
“Legolas? Gwador?” Elrohir laid a gentle hand upon the prince’s shoulder, his thumb rubbing over the cloth-covered skin comfortingly. He knew his words had reassured his friend, but could clearly see that Legolas was still worried. “Come, rest. Master Gimli and I will continue searching. Be at ease, we will find him.”
The archer nodded and allowed himself to be steered to a clear patch of ground that had, miraculously, been spared of any mark of the bloodshed that had taken place. Legolas allowed Elrohir to help him sit on the ground comfortably before the twin resumed the search with Gimli. He sat quietly watching them, his knees drawn up close and his slender arms wrapped about them. The archer tried to keep his mind from thinking of the horrors that might have befallen his lover. Instead, he tried to concentrate on happier times, times they shared when their hearts were light and all they could think about was love.
Trenaro nin o pent alui trenare in pennar
Tolo annin in i aduial in laire môr an lû
Sano nin ad i dôr
Manke anírarim-nîn n'onnen
I fenedror edra i fen naa ned camlann-lîn
Si revio nin ennas
The words tumbled from his lips without Legolas even realizing it. He was unaware of the stunned looks etched upon Gimli and Elrohir’s faces as they and others still on the battlefield turned to the singing prince. The words kept coming, the song familiar. It was a song he knew well, one Legolas had sung the first night he had met Elladan. He sang the next verses unconsciously.
Milur utu sen menel in alui-meth alagor
Palantíri o rusva naa moeglîr an adonnen
Wait…what was that sound? Legolas sat up straighter, his ears straining to catch any sound. He was vaguely aware of Elrohir looking around as the twin also heard the sound. Swallowing thickly, the prince found his voice again.
Adgellam naa'nnas
In dôr en elei teli
I fenedror edra i fen naa ned camlann-lîn
Si revio nin ennas
There! The voice sounded again! Jumping to his feet, Legolas looked around the field, hoping to catch a glimpse of whomever it was he had heard. And then he saw him, a lone dark figure in the distance making its way slowly towards them. A tattered cloak blew his wake, sunlight streaming through their dark hair as gray eyes gazed up and a smile appeared.
“Elladan…” He raced along the bloody field as fast as his weary frame could carry him. All he could think about was the one in front of him, alive and as well as could be.
Elladan had stopped walking the moment he saw Legolas move, the gashes on his arm and across his hip forgotten as he caught the lithe form in his arms. He enfolded the familiar form of his lover in his arms, hugging him tightly as he felt kisses being planted over his face. “Legolas, melme…”
“You had me so worried!” Legolas nearly shouted, beating a fist on the light armor Elladan wore. “I thought…you might have…I didn’t…” He couldn’t voice his concerns as his voice choked and tears of relief filled his eyes.
“Forgive me, anor-nîn. Forgive me.” He pulled Legolas closer, hugging him as tightly as the pain in his left arm would allow. Neither were aware of the smiles on Elrohir and Gimli’s faces as they joined the lovers. All seemed well in the world.
~~~~~~~~~~
“You gave us all quite a scare, gwanur.”
“I can assure you that my intentions did not involve being swept away by a wayward band of Orcs only to fight them off on my own…Estel!” Elladan squirmed as Aragorn attempted to apply some balm to the twin’s various gashes, cuts and scrapes, but being far from soothing the paste was beginning to sting and burn. “Is that really made from athelas?”
“Yes, gwanur, it is,” Aragorn said in slight exasperation mixed with a bit of tiredness, ignoring the small chuckle Elrohir gave from over his shoulder. “Now will you kindly hold still so that I may attend to you?”
Elladan grumbled something unintelligible, but obediently sat still as Aragorn finished the cleansing and binding of his wounds. Behind the King, Elrohir, Legolas and Gimli waited in silence, each watching Aragorn perform his work to his satisfaction before stepping away from his eldest foster brother, who promptly began to redress.
“I would say you are fairly lucky, gwanur. Whatever created the wounds to your arm and hip was not poisoned. Just as a precautionary measure, I would suggest you take the next day to rest and heal so as not to aggravate the healing.”
“Now you sound like Ada, Estel.”
Aragorn snorted at the remark and turned to leave, followed by Elrohir who ushered Gimli out before him. Elladan was left alone with Legolas, who rose from the seat he had been occupying to sit next to his dark-haired lover.
“How do you feel?” Legolas asked in a quiet voice.
“Tired…well, exhausted is more like it. But I’m healing. My injuries are not so great.” Elladan sighed and wrapped an arm around the prince’s waist and drew him closer. He closed his eyes and rested his dark head upon his lover’s shoulder. Another sigh escaped his lips as Elladan felt Legolas’ fingers gently shift through his hair to untangle the locks. “I am sorry to have frightened you, anor-nîn.”
“You are all right; it matters not anymore. I thank the Valar that they returned you to me safely.” Legolas tenderly kissed his lover’s brow, drawing Elladan closer. “Rest, melme. Aragorn does not intend to ride out from a few more days. You need to rest and heal in the meantime.”
“Stay?” There was a small pleading tone in Elladan’s voice as he gazed up at Legolas.
“Of course.” He smiled when he observed the contentment that crossed the twin’s face. Legolas began to hum gently in an effort to lull his love to sleep; in a few moments, Elladan was gently dozing against his shoulder. Moving slowly so as not to awaken his lover, Legolas managed to maneuver them both into a lying position, pulling the sheets up about their forms. “Rest, ithil-nîn. Let me watch over your dreams.” Another smile graced Legolas’ fair face as Elladan shifted in his sleep to cuddle closer. The prince kissed his love’s cheeks, and began to hum again as the noise around them settled down and peace enveloped the lovers.
Translations:
Gwador-Brother (for those not blood related)
Melme-Love
Anor-nîn-My sun
Gwanur-Brother (for those blood related)
Ada-Father
Ithil-nîn-My moon