Leonalta (Radiant Shadow)

Part One: Bathing Redefined

Anar smiled in exuberant brilliance
upon the vale of the Bruinen, the grounds of the Last Homely House, and
the secluded slate-flagged terrace of the morning room on the
south-eastern side of the estate. The scenery was both
picturesque and soothing, with a wide green lawn sloping gently down to
a garden and a small stand of elm trees. On one side, a high privet
hedge provided a screen from the more public areas of the main
courtyard at the front of the house. At the other, a lattice work
trellis supported a climbing rose, creating a fragrant wall between the
terrace and the formal gardens.

The small patio had long been a favourite gathering spot for Elrond's
household and over the uncountable years the Peredhel Lord had lived
here many friends and kinfolk had enjoyed breaking fast while taking in
the silent glory of a summer sunrise or enjoying afternoon tea amid
good company and rousing conversation. To this purpose, the terrace was
furnished with many lovely chairs, chaises, tables, and benches all
wrought in delicately scrolled and decorated ironwork of such fine
craftsmanship that their creators could only be Noldorin smiths. Yet
recently, some changes had been made to the inviting outdoor
chamber.

All of the tables and their chairs had been removed save one set just
large enough for two and most of the comfortably cushioned seating had
also been relocated to the walled garden just off Elrond's study at the
back of the house. A single chaise remained and two arm chairs with a
low, round table between them. A wheeled serving cart with three levels
stood discretely alongside the hedge. On the other side of the oblong
space against the rose trellis was set a narrow bed all made up in fine
white silk and covered with a lovely sky blue down filled counterpane.

This unlikely item to be found in an outdoor setting was situated such
that the roses formed its head and there the woody stems had been
painstakingly de-thorned by loving hands. Against the greenery was
piled a mound of soft pillows and beside the bed was set a small square
table. This held a water flacon, two leather bound books, and a large
assortment of small capped bottles, each of a different coloured glass.
The sunlight played among these vessels, passed through the water decanter, and cast a rainbow across the
grey stone flags.

Legolas knew nothing of these alterations for he had never
been to Imladris before and thus had no history with which to compare
the morning room terrace's layout. It was long past sunrise and the
stone was warm as the golden haired elf pushed open the double,
glass-paned doors and stepped outside. Or rather, moved forward in an
awkward gait that was part hop and mostly hobble, for he leaned heavily
on an ornately carved staff as he progressed.

This was due to the fact
that his left leg was carefully braced, having been fractured in two
places as well as pierced with not one but two arrows. His wounds had
nearly healed but the breaks were taking longer to knit and thus the
brace kept the bones from becoming misaligned during the process. It
was not very graceful nor attractive to go about so, injured leg
bent at the knee to prevent hitting his toes against the floor, but
considering Elrond had not been certain whether the limb might be
saved, Legolas was not wont to complain about it too much.

The effort was taxing but he was determined to get outdoors for he was
expecting someone to join him in what had become a daily ritual. He had
been here nearly four months now and it was starting to feel more like
home than he would ever have imagined possible. Of course, he had never
imagined he would come to be in Imladris at all and definitely not
under his current conditions. The Wood Elf gave his head a brisk shake,
preferring not to brood over the horrific events that had led him here;
the nightmares were bad enough without spending his waking hours
thinking about it.

He continued onward, loose robe flapping gently around his body, until
he was standing in the center of the terrace. With satisfaction he
noted that everything seemed to be ready: a wash basin, a basket of sponges, soaps, and lotions, a tremendous cylindrical red-glazed ceramic jug stopped with a cork. All awaited their employment to provide the patient a refreshing cleansing as it was impossible for Legolas to climb in and out of a proper tub. He shivered a bit in
anticipation, tipping his head up and grinning into the clear blue
dome of cloudless sky, luxuriating in the warmth showering down upon
his face. He shrugged the robe off his shoulders and it collected at his
feet with a soft sigh.


Legolas relaxed under the caress of the gentle breeze rifling
his hair and flirting with his bare skin and stood still, back to the open
doors, waiting. He inhaled, long and slow as though enjoying the
sensation of drawing air into his lungs, searching the various scents
for one he most preferred these days, and his smile
broadened. His beloved was approaching.

Soft footfalls and an audible breath announced the elf's arrival
upon the threshold of the double doors. Legolas could
feel his lover's eyes examining every angle and line of his long, lean
frame and was positive that gaze was transfixed upon his rear. So
thinking, he shifted his weight from his sound leg to the staff and
back, just a quick flex of the hips, an enticing little wiggle to hurry things along. A
snicker sounded, the footsteps resumed, and then he was clasped round
the chest by two strong arms as the heat and hardness of his beloved's
erection pressed into the cleft dividing his rear. The strength of the body in full contact with his, the protective encirclement of the arms surrounding him instantly imbued his soul with a degree of peace and contentment he had only previously known in his mother's embrace. He was safe; he was loved.

He was desired. A tremulous sigh
across his neck preceded the lips that nuzzled him there as he was
kissed and nibbled from its base to his jaw. Legolas shuddered and leaned into the contact, shifting to rub his backside against the ardent flesh. Legolas was uncertain which of them gave rise to the low moan that followed the stimulation.

"Eager, Miphileg?" (Little Kiss) the whispered words drifted across his
ear, a tantalising hint of touch that was only enough to make him yearn
for more.

"Aye, this is the only good thing about being so wrecked,"
answered Legolas. The intimate hug relented as the elf moved to stand
before him and Legolas met the enchanting intensity of Elladan's grey
eyes. The expression held within them was both tenderly protective and
smouldering with hunger and Legolas was certain he never wished his
beloved to look upon him in any other manner.

"Then I shall take my time and make sure to give you a very
thorough bathing," Elladan said, smiling as he leaned in and gave the
silvan a quick peck on the tip of his nose. He pushed his long fall of
ebony hair over his bare shoulder and squatted down at Legolas'
feet. Like his lover, he was nude, having dropped his robe on the morning room's floor
before exiting through the open doors. He felt the light weight of a
hand upon his shoulder as Legolas discarded the staff and leaned on him
instead. The wooden stick clattered on the slate and Elladan chuckled
as he reached for the earthen ware jug. "Afraid I will
get away from you?" he teased.

"Nay, I will always find you should you stray. Besides, you promised
never to leave my side until I should breathe my last, did you not?"
and
the Wood Elf was only partly jesting in return. Lately he had need for
reassurance of the bond that had grown between them.

"It was more than a promise," Elladan lifted serious eyes
and held Legolas' gaze, filling the broken soul with as much love and
comfort as he could, softly stroking the thigh of the unharmed leg. He
waited until all the unspoken fears dissipated from Legolas' features
and then smirked. "I do not think we have to worry any longer about
final breaths, do you? This strikes me as a very healthy response."
Elladan was now admiring the long slender penis poised right at chin
level and he gave the excited erection a playful tweak.

"Ai, Elladan!" Legolas gasped, gripping tight
in response to the delicious spasm coursing through his body. "We can just forego
the bath."

"Nay, I think not." Elladan disagreed and lifted the vessel, pouring
out some of the hot water into the basin beside the Wood Elf's feet. "You
would not wish me to fall to kinslaying, would you?" He selected a
small, soft sponge and immersed it in the fluid to saturate every pore, then squeezed out the excess. Somehow the sound of the water trickling back into the basin was erotic, a sensuous counterpoint to Legolas' laboured suspiration.

"What?" Legolas frowned down into the grave visage regarding him. "You are making no
sense."

"If Adar were to determine I am incapable of taking care of you
properly, he would assign this duty to one of the healers'
apprentices." Elladan unstopped the bottle of soap, poured some onto
the wet sponge, and worked up a fluffy white lather. He stood
and slowly rubbed the dripping, porous scrubber over Legolas' chest and
shoulders. White, foamy trails streaked the silvan's creamy skin as the
soap slipped down the elf's enticing form. Elladan's breath caught as
he passed the sponge over nipples grown hard and dark under the
attention. He swabbed the maroon points, smearing the white froth over them liberally and then testing their resilience with finger and thumb, stroking and tugging each in turn.

Legolas moaned and arched into the contact, eyes half closed and lips
parted. "I do not want anyone else assigned to this task," he panted
out huskily.


Elladan leaned down and kissed him, greedily plunging his tongue within the open mouth and tasting Legolas fully; triumphant in this initial act of possessive conquest. He pulled Legolas close, relishing the slippery warmth and the contrast between soft supple skin and engorged nodes flush against his chest. A shift in his stance brought their aroused genitals into contact and the searing heat this ignited precipitated a lusty thrust that made Legolas groan in near despair, unable to manage a similar motion on only one leg's support. Elladan relented and released his lover's lips. A half-step back severed the pleasurable full frontal juncture and he smiled into azure eyes alight with dreamy passion and disappointment.

"Nay, do not stop, Beloved, please!" Legolas pleaded urgently, attempting to close the minute distance between them without success.

"Fear not; I am but beginning," Elladan reassured him. "Have I ever failed to give you a satisfactory bath?"

"Well, no," admitted Legolas, "but you are driving me to madness!"

Elladan only chuckled at that and shook his head, wetting the sponge anew. He passed it under Legolas arm and then wiped all
the way down to his hip and back, first on the left side and then the
right. Knowing where the Wood Elf was ticklish, he raised a string of raucous involuntary giggles in the process that made him laugh in concert. "Is this not best, this slow and leisurely approach to fulfilment? Why hasten to the peak when there is so much pleasure to be found in the climb?"

"Aye," Legolas could do nothing but agree, staring into those eyes so filled with love and longing it made his heart ache. He sighed and tilted back his head, giving over all control to Elladan, shutting his eyes against the glare of the sun. He heard an abbreviated cry die to silence as lips applied suction to the delicate skin under his jaw and his lover's tongue swirled across the spot repeatedly. He could feel the blood collecting in the captured flesh and let a small whimper escape when the pressure left and sturdy teeth nipped him there, the mark made. "Leonalta, iaunen, seronen." (Radiant Shadow, my sanctuary, my beloved.)

Elladan gently touched his soapy fingers to the violet bruise and then kissed it tenderly, checking Legolas' face to make sure this was not too much. His greatest fear was that his desire to give pleasure would trigger memories of the brutal tortures that had initiated their unusual bond. The serenity of the silvan's countenance reassured him but the closed vision did not. "Look at me, Miphileg," he whispered anxiously. "Are you well?"

The worry in the words brought Legolas out of his pleasant fugue instantly. He locked his gaze with Elladan's, understanding what he needed, and smiled, lifting his hand to caress the concern away from the comely face so close to his. "I am well."

Elladan's relieved exhale uplifted both their spirits and he resumed the bath, running the sponge down the center of Legolas' chest to the navel and back.

Legolas twitched, feeling the cool suds sliding down his belly, oozing into
his navel, and collecting in his pubic hair. He shuddered and suddenly
yanked Elladan close, wantonly demanding a deep and searing kiss, frantically pivoting to grind
his cock against its counterpart. He meant to be patient, truly, but while his heart was submissive Legolas' body was bold. They pressed together and savoured the
exquisite fire building between them, two feral growls, one baritone
and the other bass, passed
between the sealed lips.

The sponge dropped to the slate with a muted splat that neither heeded. Elladan
wrapped an arm around Legolas' shoulders, the opposite hand delving
into the silvan's thick tresses to secure the connection. This was no mere kiss; such a word could not encompass the impassioned interchange flaring through them, stealing breath and reason and caution. With need spurring him to unthinking haste, Elladan gripped the injured leg, pulling it aside to drape against his hip and permit closer contact. The sharp hiss of anguish this generated sundered them abruptly and Legolas laid his forehead on Elladan's shoulder, fingers digging in to anchor him through the onslaught.

"Ai! Forgive me, beloved, forgive me; I would not cause you pain for anything," Elladan was beside himself; what he dreaded most had come to pass. He had tended Legolas' injuries from the start and knew that the treatment required could not help but cause intense agony, but that was different. Elladan did not want any of their intimate activities to bring Legolas so much as a shadow of discomfort. He ground his teeth and growled, holding Legolas close and rubbing the inflexible spine, furious that he could do nothing more.

For his part, Legolas just held on, concentrating to prevent the grinding torment from sapping all his strength, unable to do or say anything to reassure his lover that it was not serious and would soon pass. The pain crested and finally ebbed; the tension drained away and with a shaky sigh the beleaguered silvan went limp in Elladan's arms.

"Please forgive me, Miphileg; I am so sorry. Let me carry you to the bed."

Legolas drew in a quick breath and straightened up. How he had fantasised hearing that last phrase! Yet he had never imagined it limned in sorrowful guilt. "Elladan, do not do this. It was I who tried to incite your ardour and thus I am more at fault. Had I heeded your plea for self-control it would not have happened. Anyway, it was only a minor pang and it is over now," he searched Elladan's eyes as he spoke, determined to grant whatever expiation was needed to smooth over the unfortunate disruption.

The slow convalescence and the limitations the gradual healing process created were deeply frustrating. He needed Elladan in the most primeval way and yet his poor condition inhibited their complete union. Each day he felt stronger and with each new dawn he prayed it would be the one to herald the consummation of their love. Legolas was growing closer to desperation as Elladan held him in this limbo of expectation, his confidence eroding under the damaging doubts instilled by the harrowing captivity. Mayhap Elladan did not want him, not truly, not for all eternity.

Legolas physically shook in Elladan's arms, willing the thought out of his mind. Fingers lifted his chin and brought his eyes to meet confused and contrite grey depths. Legolas answered the silent question there with a wistful smile and feathery kisses. He kissed Elladan lightly on the lips, the nose, the cheeks, all over his face, wrapping his arms around his neck and crooning a trilling invitation as he brought their bodies back into cohesion, willing Elladan to put aside his worries and just love him. The diverting stimulus worked and Elladan began to reciprocate.


"What…" Legolas smiled as his words were interrupted by the animated tongue eagerly chasing after his. "What is this to do with kinslaying?" he asked when he was able, hoping to further distract Elladan by reminding him of the unexplained conundrum presented earlier.

"Ah," Elladan smiled down upon the pleasing sight of Legolas' countenance, free of pain and filled with mischievous curiosity. He arched a brow and tried to present a displeased demeanour. "I have seen how others in the household follow you with hungry eyes, especially that insufferable
herb-grinder Minlamad (First Echo). If I do not care for you well, Adar may give the task of tending you to him. I would have no choice but to kill him should he ever touch you for you are mine and mine alone." Elladan thrilled to feel Legolas' heart leap upon hearing this. "Then, I would be banished from all the elven realms and you with me. We would have to wander with Aragorn's Rangers. You would truly
long for the chance to bathe then." For a moment they held one another's eyes and then both fell to laughing, happy the dark mood was driven out.

"You dropped the sponge."

"You made me."

Elladan carefully eased his palm over the thigh of the injured leg as if assuring himself he could touch Legolas without causing harm. Emboldened by the pleased sigh this evoked, he continued exploring, working his hand around the slender hip to trip over the little dimple where the Wood Elf's fine round rump arose. He petted the firm muscle and moved lower, cupping the taut flesh and squeezing enough to bring fire to the silvan's shining eyes.


His other hand took the opposite approach, trailing up the centre of Legolas' back, tangling through the lengthy blond locks, seeking the protruding tip of a pink-flushed ear and teasing it. Elladan was highly gratified to watch Legolas' eyes go wide and then nearly roll back in his head as he emitted a long, keening plaint of pure desire. He also emitted a most undignified and obscene phrase: "Bite me!" Elladan was incapable of refusing such an exhortation and raised a round red welt upon the pale white shoulder.

Before Legolas could attempt to wrest control of the scene again, Elladan decided it was time to finish the bath. He slid down to the ground to retrieve the lost sponge in minute
increments, tasting and sampling the archer's hot slippery skin as he
went. He suckled each nipple and then ran his tongue between them up
the breastbone, dipping into the depression at the base of the throat.
The low groan Legolas released vibrated through Elladan's soul as he
nuzzled the ivory neck from which it arose. He kissed his way to the abdomen
and lingered there, darting his tongue into the natal dent at its centre, delighting in the quivery ripples of the muscles
beneath his questing lips.

Elladan chuckled and gripped his love by the
hips tightly, for Legolas was trying his utmost to shift position and
bring the head of his penis in line with the
meandering mouth. Elladan would have none of it and, after giving one
provocative lick across the glans, dropped to his
heels and grabbed up the sponge.

"Oh, so cruel," Legolas complained through gritted teeth as Elladan
rinsed it out and lathered it up again, working on the lower
half of his body this time. Each leg was carefully washed including between his
toes and Legolas feared he might not be able to subdue the urge to straddle Elladan's shoulders if
nothing more happened than this. The most
interesting areas of anatomy were being ignored and Elladan was humming, actually humming, while
he scrubbed in tight little circles over the calves, behind the knees,
up the inner thighs. Ah, this is more like it. The
sopping
sponge slipped between his legs, behind his balls and right over his opening. Legolas'
wavery cry of needy desperation joined the twittering of summer songbirds and the liquid tumult of Rivendell's many falls.

"That sound," growled Elladan. "I mean to hear it again."


He let
the sponge go and seized the long florid column of excited flesh, pulling to bring the slickened head to his lips. He sucked it gently, savouring the
slippery secretion. Squeezing and pumping oh so slowly with one hand, the other kneaded the soft mounds
of the silvan's arse. Elladan's scalp stung where Legolas snatched a
handful
of the black silken locks. He disengaged to
see Legolas' head tilt back as that wail of erotic agony escaped his
lungs a second time.

"Look at me, Miphileg," Elladan ordered and
felt his libido surging under the fierce and silent plea within the gaze focused upon him.

Elladan flashed a dazzling grin and wrapped his mobile tongue around
the archer's shaft, lapping the sensitive slit before
withdrawing to enjoy the titillating, incoherent cry once more. He licked his way
down the long length, kissing and lightly nipping, and when he reached
the root he sucked carefully against the tight sack. Legolas shuddered
so violently that Elladan feared his healthy leg would give out and grasped the archer's waist to lend support until the trembling
ceased.

"Ah, please, enough," Legolas found air for these beseeching words at
last and transferred both hands to Elladan's broad shoulders to steady
his balance.

No more incentive was required for Elladan to resume pleasuring his
silvan lover and he quickly engulfed as much of the engorged organ as possible, letting his teeth just faintly graze against the sensitised
shaft. Legolas sang out an appreciative exclamation of delight and
bucked into the torrid confinement. Elladan resumed swabbing the
seeping slit with his tongue and fondled the heavy ballocks briefly
before returning one hand to the warm soapy water to lubricate his
fingers. Carefully he pushed one inside the Wood Elf's tightly cinctured anus and Legolas jerked, fighting the urge to flee, gripped with fear and shock.

Elladan stopped the penetration but left the finger in place, nor did he cease the fellatio, counting on the pleasing stimulation to overcome the initial reaction. They had done this before and soon Legolas relaxed again, shoving into the enveloping lips and moaning. Elladan resumed probing for the small hump where the prostate was hidden and received ample evidence of success.


"Aye, aye, like that!" Legolas nearly bent double as the sensitive zone was lightly pressed, curling
over the dark head and leaning all of his weight on Elladan as he
struggled for air. He gasped in combined surprise and excitement when
the finger pulled out only to re-enter accompanied by a second as
Elladan sought to stretch and prepare him. "Oh, please, yes. Please,"
he murmured, raking the ebony hair, whimpering that he could not
reach to kiss the bobbing crown of midnight tresses. Elladan meant to claim him.
"Will you take me in the grass there beneath the trees?" pleaded
Legolas, rocking between the thrusting digits and the sucking mouth.

"Mmmmm," Elladan could not answer for he was unwilling to pause long
enough to do so. Instead he pulled his fingers free and inserted three
this time, shoving deep and hard by way of answer. In truth, he did not
know if he could hold out the few extra minutes required to gather
Legolas up and carry him down the slope to the grove of trees. He was
thinking more along the line of throwing him onto the bed and fucking
him senseless.


He spread his fingers wide inside the hot, narrow
channel and suddenly wondered if Legolas had ever really done this
before. It was almost enough to make him stop in order to find out for
certain but then the archer clamped his fingers around the inflamed tip
of Elladan's ear and squeezed. A muffled shout issued from his throat
and the vibrations excited Legolas to the point of breaking.

"Ai, Elladan! More!" he cried out.

A shocked and strangled exclamation sounded through the air and the
lovers froze, for the sound had come from neither of them. They knew at
once they were not alone and in a frenzy of mortified panic Legolas
sought to get free of Elladan. Knowing the silvan could not walk
without the staff, Elladan yanked his fingers out and relinquished the
penis from his lips' captivity. He hastened to rise so that he could
aid his lover, grabbing for the soaked, neglected robe to provide
cover. "Be calm," he whispered urgently as he straightened up, one arm
wrapped around his love's waist to prevent a fall.

Legolas was struggling, however, and Elladan shifted to ensure a more
secure stance. His heel connected with a wet, slick puddle of suds
and with a shout of dismay his leg went completely out from under him.
They fell to the ground in an undignified heap of mingled arms, legs,
hair, and jutting penises. If not for the fact of the archer's
injuries it would have been quite comical. As it was, all of Elladan's
weight bore them down and they landed with the broken leg crushed
beneath them against the stone flags. Legolas gave a short, agonised
yelp and then lay quiet, eyes squeezed shut and jaws
clenched against the spikes of pain shooting through his abused limb.

"Oh Valar!" the unwelcome guest intoned in combined sympathy and
distressed embarrassment, eyes riveted to the scene.

Elladan extricated himself from Legolas and hastily draped the sodden
garment over the silvan's nakedness. He glared up at the elf in the
doorway. "Arwen." He infused the name with enough venom to render it a
vile curse.

"Elladan, I would not have watched if…I had no idea it was you! I…Is he…are
you all right?" she stammered out, still unable to cease ogling the
wet, prone, figure trembling on the ground.

"Get out!" her brother shouted and were he not naked and exposed he
would have forcibly ejected her from the terrace.

Heavy foot falls sounded from the room behind her. "Arwen?" a male
voice called into the air and was followed shortly by Aragorn's rugged
form. He halted beside her, staring round eyed in disbelief at
the tableau before him. "What are you
doing?" he demanded and took her by the arm, tugging her away. "I am
sorry, Elladan. Do you need help?" he asked, eyeing the silent elf sprawled on
the flagstones with concern.

"I can manage," Elladan answered coldly, one hand protectively placed
on Legolas' shoulder.

Aragorn gave a quick nod and closed the double doors behind him as he
escorted Arwen inside. He scowled down into her contrite countenance
and, fingers firmly gripping her arm at the elbow, steered her from the
morning room. "What in Mordor were you doing?" he hissed, striding
purposely toward the main dining hall where the rest of the household
was already gathered for the noon meal. "I cannot believe you stood
there watching your brother in such an intimate and
private moment."

"I did not know it was Elladan; his face was otherwise occupied and
not visible from my perspective. All I could see was that golden-haired
elf bent over a dark-haired elf. As you are well aware, there are many
dark-haired elves in the household," she retorted, snatching her arm
free of her beloved and storming ahead. She threw open the doors of the
hall and swept inside, grey eyes flashing and cheeks flushed. Her mood
instantly affected the room's occupants as all conversation stalled,
every eye watching in trepidation as she swooped down on the table and
yanked her chair noisily back.

"Well, I do not see that it makes any difference whether you knew or
not. When did you take up voyeurism as a hobby?" Aragorn growled
tersely, feeling a bit insecure over her obvious and previously unknown
fascination with the sexual antics of same-sex lovers. 'Beautiful and
elegant, elven, male lovers,' he thought with dismay. He shoved the
chair under her knees and she plopped down into it gracelessly.

"What did you say?" Elrond rose from his place at the head of the table
to glare at his foster son.

"Only what is true," Aragorn defended his perhaps too crude charge as
he sat beside his betrothed. "I went to get Arwen and found she had
barged right in on Legolas and Elladan in the middle of bathing." A
series of gasps and 'oh my's' chased round the table and everyone
favoured Arwen with looks constructed of disapproving disappointment
and avid curiosity.

"I blame your grandmother's influence," the Lord of Imladris sat down
with a sigh, "and I am not referring to Elwing." He shared a
glance with his guest, one Sindarin prince from the Greenwood,
Celonlir, first-born of Thranduil. "My humble apologies for my
daughter's indiscretion."

"Speak not of it," Celonlir replied and meant it not as a polite
rejoinder but a vehement plea, hand upraised and visage contorted in a
pained expression over the mental picture assaulting his sensibilities.
He did not
want to imagine his baby brother engaged in such activities.

"What possessed you to go in there during bathing, Thêl Dithen?"
(Little Sister) Elrohir suddenly exclaimed, grinning hugely at the
scene that passed before his mind's eye.

"I would not call that bathing," Arwen fumed. "Even so, who in
their right mind 'bathes' on a veritably public terrace? And when
was the morning room converted to a bed-sitting room?" she lifted
her napkin and snapped it open, settling it across her lap with
an indignant huff.

A stifled sniggle caught her attention and she
turned her narrowed and fearsome gaze upon Erestor, who hastily took up
his fork and prodded his salad with it as if searching for something
rancid that he wished to fish out. "It is Erestor's fault," the
Evenstar claimed.

"My fault? Exactly how did you come to that ridiculous conclusion?" the
dignified seneschal demanded, setting his fork down with care and
folding his arms before him.

"You sent me in there, knowing what was going on."

"Nay, I did no such thing!"

"You did. I asked if you knew where I could find Elladan, for I did not
see him at dawn when I arrived, nor was he in his rooms and you said 'Try the terrace.'"

"Oh." Erestor uncrossed his arms and slumped down a bit in his seat,
taking in the disapproving frowns now directed his way. He had been
frightfully busy when Arwen arrived in his office and had hardly paid
any attention to what she wanted or the time of the day during which
her query had been posed.

"Erestor, how could you?" demanded Lindir hotly. "Has that poor Wood
Elf not been through enough? Why would you set him up for such a
humiliating experience just at the moment the pair chose to consummate
their bond?"

"It was an accident! I was pre-occupied!" insisted Erestor.

"Consummate their bond? How could you possibly know that?" Celonlir asked the gifted musician
in low tones brimming with menace and infuriation on his little
brother's behalf. "You came in just before those two," the Sindarin
prince pointed at Aragorn and Arwen as he spoke. "Exactly why were you
late for the noon meal, minstrel?"

Lindir's face turned a bright crimson and he squirmed under the
threatening glower of the warrior prince. "I was…outside…communing with
nature," he mumbled.

"Near the rose trellis, perhaps?" wondered Glorfindel with a suggestive
lilt and a lecherous leer.

"By Elbereth, what is wrong with you people?" Elrond sputtered in
exasperation and propped his elbows on the table to support his bowed
head for a minute. It seemed voyeurism was a hobby with a propensity to contagion. "Well, at least our suppositions are now confirmed.
They mean to make this bond permanent."

"Not that we expected anything other," Celonlir shrugged helplessly.
"Elrohir told us all how it was right from the start. Ai! How am I
going to explain to Adar? It is really unfair for the burden to fall to
me. Lord Elrond, perhaps you could…"

"I think not. Such news should come only from Legolas, do you not
agree? He is no child and thus it is his responsibility to reveal
his heart's desire to your father, not mine."

"When is the King expected?" asked Glorfindel.

"At any moment he shall be galloping through the gates, his horse
fairly dead for having run without stopping from Greenwood's borders,"
Celonlir was only exaggerating a little. "The most recent message
stated his warriors had run into resistance in the High Pass but were underway again. That arrived by falcon this morning."

A brief silence followed this as everyone considered the impending
arrival of the volatile and rightfully distraught father. No one knew
quite what to expect, including Celonlir. Thranduil had not ventured
from Greenwood since the Last Alliance, but nothing would stop him from
getting to Legolas' side in such a crisis. He was not likely to be
pleased that everyone, including Celonlir, had forgotten to inform him of Legolas' condition
until the worst was over, even though the oversight had occurred
because of the attention healing the younger prince had required.

Further, it was not common for Wood Elves to take same-sex partners,
especially with intent to bond for eternity. How he would react to the
impending union was anyone's guess. Finally, if he learned the
inhabitants of the Last Homely House were watching Legolas coupling
with his intended, as if it were a sort of sport, there was no
accounting for the consequences, for Thranduil completely doted on the
babe of the family.

Elrond's eyes widened in dismay over this thought. He straightened and
passed his hand over his face in resignation. "All right, there is
nothing we can do about past errors in judgement and decency. Let me
just make it plain that I forbid any of you to spy on Elladan and
Legolas, whether 'bathing' or not."

A chorus of 'Certainly, Lord Elrond', 'Of course, Adar', and 'I
would never stoop so low' arose form the other elves and the one
human and the Lord of Imladris managed a tight, tired smile in
acknowledgement. It had, all in all, been a highly stressful four
months. Everyone began consuming the meal but no one spoke for quite a
while.

"Well, are any of you planning to tell me what has happened
or must I wait until Elladan calms down and try to find out from him?"
demanded Arwen impatiently. "How long have he and Legolas been a couple
and how did they meet? What happened to his leg?
And there seemed to be faint marks covering his back as if…" Arwen's eyes grew huge
as her voice dwindled and she realised the implications of her observations. "Oh nay!" she whispered. "I did not want to think it could be so!"

Profound silence followed this pronouncement until Aragorn took her hand and rubbed it consolingly. "Sadly, it is true," he murmured. "There are few tales as bitter yet there is hope for Legolas through Elladan," he added, for he
knew she was compassionate and would be deeply moved by the story.

"Perhaps we should start at the beginning," prompted Glorfindel and
sent a pointed look in Celonlir's direction.

"Indeed, Lady Arwen, it is unfortunate that you arrived home even
while messenger birds were en route to Lorien to apprise you of the
news. No doubt you have the gift of foresight and knew in your heart
something was amiss in your brother's world and thus chose to hasten to
Imladris so unexpectedly," said Celonlir gently, for he could see she
was distraught to have pried into their respective brothers' privacy.

Arwen smiled in shaken and watery gratitude for the warrior's
understanding pardon.

"The beginning, then, was in Greenwood," Thranduil's eldest continued.
"We lost a fine warrior recently, a cousin on my mother's side, and
Legolas and I were escorting his widow and their child to the Havens,
for the grief of the loss was too much for them. We had thirty-six
warriors for protection but did not expect trouble, for usually the
silvans travel unremarked across Eriador to the sea.

"We were attacked in the prime of the day, ambushed most despicably, lured into a
trap by some poor beggars claiming to need the aid of healing and
wholesome food. Of course we stopped; our cousin's wife-mate would not
think of going on without attempting to help the destitute humans. When
we got to the village we found Orcs waiting for us and had to fight our
way out. They killed mother and child in the first round of the
assault."

Continued