Aearlinn

Many many months have passed since last I visited this story and this is for me a very short update. You will have to forgive me for the strange flux in time we see here. It may be recalled that when last we saw Elrond and Legolas, the Lord of Imladris and his youthful mate had just undergone a gruelling and soul-wrenching experience, courtesy of Rhûn'waew and her potent magic. Let us leave the two lovers to recuperate for a short time. (I promise when we return to them interesting things will be happening) For now, there is something Thranduil needs to do and I must ask your indulgence regarding that feast. We will ignore it and I will explain what happened soon, but for now accept that this scene takes place the next morning sometime after breakfast.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Dawn after Elrond and Legolas Recover ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"I should like to have you stripped, stretched upright between those two trees, bound there hands and feet, and beaten until blood pools on the ground beneath you," Thranduil's words were low, his voice calm and nearly devoid of emotion. "I should like to cut off your ears and then castrate you. Finally, I would see you set afire and burned until your spirits cry out to Námo, though I doubt he would welcome you. Dearly do I wish to do this. It is no less than you deserve."

Frozen in dread to hear these threats so carelessly spoken, his victims stood rooted and silent, peering at him from behind the line of four flint-tipped arrows nocked, drawn, and aimed in unerring precision right at their hearts. The archers holding them under guard glared with scathing disapprobation. Surely their fingers itched to release the bolts, eagerly awaiting the King's command. Elladan and Elrohir dared not reply, communing in speechless and stoic resignation, exchanging mutual love and unending regret as each reached for the other's hand and clung tight, certain they were about to endure the very doom described.

How did he know to find us here?

That scout, of course. Why did he wait so long, that is what I would know.

We must tell him of the bond and save ourselves.

Nay, we haven't discussed that with Legolas.

Muindoren, if we are ever to have that opportunity, we must speak now!

"Yet I cannot enact this form of justice, a traditional sylvan method of dealing with traitors and those who wilfully abuse an innocent," Thranduil continued and internally smirked over the Noldorin elves' open show of relief.

For all his outward calm, his soul was flooded with almost euphoric darkness and a concomitant sense of righteousness as the words poured forth, for he had so needed to say just such things to Elrond and been forced, for love of his child, to refrain. Needed, nay, it was more that his grief and guilt and rage required, demanded expression in this direct, explicit manner lest the pent emotions sicken him truly. His minimal punishment of Erestor had merely whetted his spirit's craving for atonement from these Noldorin malefactors and what he had planned for Elrond had been all but aborted, abbreviated into a kind of needling punishment by irritation due to his beloved wife's plea for merciful acceptance of their son's adored 'Nín'ódhel'.

"Hîren Aran (My Lord King)," Elladan bowed low, hand over his heart, "your forbearance is an indulgence we little deserve…"

"…and humbly accept with respectful and contrite hearts," finished Elrohir, copying his brother's attitude of deep obeisance, in which both remained fixed, eyes on the Sindarin King's highly polished boots.

"Hmm," Thranduil grunted in displeasure, unconvinced and unsatisfied, his yearning to make them suffer boiling just beneath the surface. "More words. Strange, is it not, the power within vocal expressions? Does it seem to you, as it does to me, that when used to convey negative or corruptive ideas, their potency becomes magnified a hundred fold? A few bilious words can forever blemish even the most pristine character, yet even a thousand times that number evoked in praise may fail to restore the damage once done.

"Flogging is too mild for such wounds are gone in a day, while imprisonment in some dank dungeon cell too severe lest you come forth blinded and insane. Spreading word of your trespass upon my son's reputation would but wound him more. I find myself desiring to cut out your tongues and have them cooked and served to your adar for luncheon. That at least would prevent any base usage of the organs in the future."

Still bent double, the twins eyes met in disbelieving horror as a bright flare of renewed fear ricocheted between them, for there was no denying the fitting nature of this suggestion. Hesitantly they righted themselves.

"Hîren, your anger is just and our guilt immeasurable," said Elladan. "If there is a remedy under Sindarin law, we are ready to receive it…"

"… regardless its severity. We stand before you cleansed of the foul degeneracy that produced those vile diatribes against Legolas, prepared to undertake any task, resigned to undergo any torment to expiate our wrongs," concluded Elrohir.

"Oh yes? What other tricks shall you perform? Can you gather up the stars and string them onto a mithril chain?" Thranduil snapped in grim sarcasm, glad to see the mighty and renowned Orc-slayers flinch and cast down their eyes again in shame.

A brief glance relayed a silent command to his captain and the warriors let their grips relax a bit, dropping the pointed shafts to belly height, disappointed to end the little play so quickly, for of course it was but a farce designed to instil fear. Wood Elves were not kin-slayers and for all their reputation for savagery, the practices Thranduil detailed were reserved for Orcs. These were archers who had fought beside Legolas and each was hungry to repay some of the insult and injury the haughty Imladrians had dealt to their comrade. They were more than pleased to play along with Thranduil. Nonetheless, discipline was paramount and almost synonymous with honour; none were willing to go against their King.

"What I see precludes it utterly and once more I find no means to vindicate my son and repay the tormentors who made his maltreatment possible." He had no difficulty spotting the flickering glimmer of Legolas' soul in their wide grey eyes and knew not whether to mourn or rejoice. Rhûn'waew believed the second bond propitious, but Thranduil was not convinced. "Ten years he endured here, debased and despised, bereft of family, laden with guilt, wounded past the boundaries of grief and death combined, and it all comes back to you two, your father, and that scheming seneschal, Erestor."

Thranduil issued an abrupt hand-sign and instantly the bows were disarmed, arrows replaced in their quivers, the sylvans' dour scowls doubling in dark disgust as they assessed the twin sons of Elrond Half-elven. The King moved past the brothers, sneering as they jumped aside, one to the right and the other the left, so to better examine the structure in which they had been working when he arrived. The location itself was picturesque and representative of the environment he favoured, having trees but not so many that the sunlight was dimmed, a brook just large enough to bear a musical voice, and a broad green meadow dotted with fragrant flowers. Of such type was the place of his childhood and it soothed his ragged nerves.

Fists on hips, he surveyed the façade with interest and gave a grudging nod, glancing back at his captives with a less virulent light in his keen blue eyes. The house was unique in combining the traditional architecture of their father's people with that of their maternal grandfather; a house not unlike a tree, rooted securely and safely to the ground while its upper portion opened beseechingly skyward. Thranduil had an idea of the purpose for designing an abode this way, yet would hear it from their lips, spontaneous and unsolicited even as their crude, derogatory insults had been. He motioned them to follow and advanced to the little pavilion wherein the plans were pinned down, scrutinising the drawing carefully as the Twins approached. When they were a foot away he reached out, snatched the one nearest by the hair, and yanked him close.

"Which are you?" he demanded, breath hissing over the pallid face scant centimetres from his.

"Elrohir." Said elf swallowed hard and remained as still as a stone, meeting the monarch's gaze with humility and no small amount of trepidation.

"Elrohir," repeated the angry father, imbuing the name with all the derision he could conger up in just three syllables. "Elf-knight? I think not, not based on what I know your character to be. What have you to say for yourself?"

"I…I can offer no defence," stammered Elrohir, eyes sliding to meet Elladan's to find his brother frantic, owl-eyed, and aching to come to his rescue. He forbade it with a minute shake of his head. "Please, Hîren, you need but speak and I will accept any penalty you deem appropriate." He audibly gasped out a lungful of pent air when he was suddenly released and shoved backward. He caught his breath as Elladan caught him, watching as the King zeroed in to confront his brother.

"Of course you will accept it!" thundered Thranduil, scowling fiercely ere he turned to the second twin. "That makes you Elladan, and at least that name is more fitting." His accusing finger pointed out the guilty warrior and then turned over and curled into a beckoning crook. "An elf with the tendencies of a man, so quick to judge and so quick to bury your guilt by pointing to another."

"Hîren, I too submit to your judgement." Elladan stepped aside from his twin to face the King and bowed low once more. "We know the damage we caused and would remit any price demanded to undo what we have done."

"You cannot undo it!" Thranduil roared and his guards tensed, fingering their bows anew.

"We realise this fully," averred Elrohir sincerely. "We only want to make things right."

"Right?" queried Thranduil, a lopsided smile accompanying the shake of his head. "None of this is right nor can it be righted, not for Legolas." Suddenly he strode to his waiting warriors and conferred briefly with his captain, non other than Faron, and the four archers left the glade as silently as they had entered it. "We have need to speak privately," the King explained and returned to his caustic remonstrance, expounding on that which he would conceal from general knowledge. "Look at what has become of him. So bright was his future, so honoured would he have been, and now he is reduced to unwilling participation in this…this convoluted four-way bond!"

"You know?" Elrohir blurted out. "How?"

"Have I not eyes? Do I not know my own child's heart?" Thranduil ranted, not about to reveal how he had really come to learn of the bond. "Never, not even when he was but an elfling, has Legolas been this confused and conflicted. It is your doing! The three of you Peredhil have brought him to this state of misery and woe."

"Nay, Lord, he is happy, truly," objected Elladan boldly. "He loves Adar and Elrond returns that love."

"And what of your two? What is he to you?"

The brothers shared a quick glance, within it their determination to be completely honest no matter the consequences. Unconsciously dropping his voice low, Elladan spoke:

"He is our saviour. Through him we have healed a rift that threatened life and reason. My brother and I, we share between us a bond more akin to that of mated spouses than brothers." He paused, expecting an explosive denunciation of disgust and disdain for such a statement, but Thranduil merely motioned with his hand for Elladan to continue. "Because of what happened that day in Eregion, we became divided."

"Not understanding about the sylvan bond of extremity, I believed Elladan meant to dispense with me in favour of Legolas," Elrohir took up the tale. "I hated him. I hated both of them, and simultaneously loved my brother and desired your son. I will not deny it; I set about to ruin his chances for happiness as he had ruined mine."

"So, the truth at last. There is sylvan blood in you after all," nodded Thranduil yet failed to elaborate on his meaning. He peered from one identical face to the other. "You feel what? Gratitude? Remorse? Attraction?"

Again the brothers' eyes met. "Aye, all that," confirmed Elrohir. "I know it is not love as Adar loves him, but we respect him…"

…and have found much to appreciate. Real friendship has begun between us…"

"…and we have pledged to be true mates to him…"

"…but make no demands upon him of any kind. Whatever he needs us to be, we shall be."

"It is for him to decide how and when we are included in his life."

"We are committed to making his life as easy as we may and will defend him and the child he carries against any detractors." The brothers finished in concert and awaited their doom.

Thranduil evaluated them thoughtfully for a few moments and deemed their words sincere. Within their eyes burned the gentle gleam of his son's light, so young it could be no other's, and recognised the soft glow their essence had imparted to Legolas' feä. What he had thought to be evidence of Vilya's power was instead the spark of their unique bond. Mates, indeed. He sighed and rubbed his eyes, for they had unknowingly brought up a topic that was rather delicate. It was obvious the twins hadn't a clue about this aspect of the bond. He proceeded to enlighten them.

"Ah, yes, the babe. Legolas is first of all too young to be bearing a child yet and, second, too depleted physically to carry the infant, and third, too emotionally drained to sustain his precious burden," Thranduil revealed, eyes flashing with both anger and fear as he counted out the obstacles his youngest son faced. "What say you to that, Elf-man?"

"I say it is good his mate is Keeper of a powerful source of healing energy," Elladan answered cautiously.

"Aye, Elrond will never let Legolas go now and neither will he permit the child to be lost," Elrohir added. "They will come through it, somehow."

"Somehow," Thranduil repeated, great sadness in his voice. "You cannot know the cost. Legolas is so much changed we hardly know him. My golden son is gone, replaced with this diminished facsimile, more a reflection of Elrond than he is the elf I begat."

"Nay, Legolas is not diminished, Hîren, if you would but look again. He is renewed and he is healing now. You will see more of his true persona returning as the days proceed," insisted Elrohir, for this Lindir had assured them and they wholeheartedly needed to believe it was true.

"Did the minstrel happen to explain how that would come about?" Thranduil asked and the blank looks returned gave the answer he expected. "Ai Valar," he muttered, turning and pacing away and back, to and fro before the brothers and their unique house.

What is amiss now?

I fear to know it. Surely Lindir would not speak falsely of something so important.

"Hîren, I beg you to be frank for, to our minds, this hesitation bodes ill for Legolas," urged Elrohir.

"Nasan," Thranduil declared, coming to his decision at last. "I noticed the healing has only recently become fully engaged. Why is it you withheld your light from him so long? I can think of no greater cruelty." The King stood before them stern and reproving as he spoke, yet hopeful all the same for within Elrohir's words was real dread and not for what was to befall them. It was for Legolas they feared. He was answered at once, the explanation pouring out in tandem, the words limned in apology and shame.

"Ai, Hîren, it was not from cruelty we refrained, though we see how it appears that way. We knew nothing of bonds like this…"

"…and it was not until Lindir explained that we understood what to do."

"We thought such things forbidden, for so it is among the folk of Imladris…"

"…and could not reconcile what we felt so keenly we needed…"

"…with what we deemed the morally correct stance to maintain."

"He was solely Adar's mate, for all we knew, and we have secured our bond with him but days gone past." Identical grey eyes locked on the King's concerned face as the brothers waited to hear what their unlikely law-father would make of this.

"That at least explains much," Thranduil said, frowning, "though it does not excuse the slanders and slurs you heaped upon him, both here and abroad. Can you imagine what it was like for my wife when Celeborn took it upon himself to arrive at our door and reveal what had happened to Legolas?" He loomed close, glaring coldly at the mirrored forms cowering before him.

"Nay, Lord," they whispered, eyes cast down. Truly, they had not known for Celeborn had kept secret what he knew of Legolas' heritage.

"Out of respect for our humiliation and grief, Celeborn came to Greenwood with the news rather than trust the tale to a messenger. What Legolas has endured here in your pretty valley is a fate worse than death, by his peoples' reckoning. Sylvan ways are not like the traditions of other people and some find these beliefs too rigid. Yet it is an unfair judgement made by folk who have not looked into the face of extinction," Thranduil lectured, having come to terms with his adopted peoples' unusual characteristics and the mores accompanying them long ago.

"You are right, Hîren," the twins murmured, bowing yet again. "We cannot erase the injuries our actions caused, but we would see Legolas fully restored. Tell us what to do."

To their surprise, Thranduil smiled, albeit the expression was a grim and bitter one. "You will aid in nurturing him through this pregnancy. He is woefully unprepared and has no inkling of what drives him now, for there was no cause to inform him about the workings of so unusual a bond. Such situations are very rare even among the sylvans, for it is more common for an elf to choose death rather than accept a secondary infusion of light, even when it is freely given. Legolas did not have even that option for his soul was unclaimed when this happened."

"We did not realise any of this," the brothers spoke as one, "had we known, we would have stayed out of Adar's way."

"I know it. It does not matter now; everything has already happened." Thranduil sighed in sorrowful resignation for the plight of his son. "He is going to need you."

There was a short pause as the brothers conferred silently.

'Need us'? Is he saying what I think I heard?

It could be anything; these are sylvan customs we're discussing.

Aye, let us be clear before we agitate this elf further.

Elladan cleared his throat. "Need us how, exactly," he ventured awkwardly. "Do you mean…intimately, as mates?"

"That is to say, sexually?" added Elrohir just to be completely sure.

"Of course that is what I mean!" snapped Thranduil. "Do you think he requires cronies with whom to go hunting and fishing?"

"Nay, Lord," Elrohir's face flushed to match his brother's. "It was just unexpected. We thought to leave for a time and give him and Adar the opportunity to seal their bond."

"Aye, and Adar is very jealous of our place in Legolas' life…"

"…while Legolas is troubled. He does not know what is acceptable and proper anymore. We did not want to add to his worries."

"Have you any idea how irritating that is?" complained Thranduil in exasperation. "Stop interrupting each other!"

"Impossible," voices indistinguishable in pitch and timbre intoned the syllables together. In spite of the dire nature of their conversation, the twins could not suppress a mischievous grin.

"Fine, never mind," Thranduil shook himself a little in response to the agitation their uncanny singularity caused him. "In any case, you cannot leave him. It may be true that Elrond's ring could supply what is lacking, but I would rather this need be filled in the natural way. It is the souls of his mates he craves and anything else will have deleterious effects. You will stay and I will attempt to explain this to him, though past experience teaches me he will stubbornly refuse to hear me."

"That is well, but who is going to explain it to Elrond?" queried Elladan. "Adar is not pleased with our interaction now, which is minimal. His jealousy threatens to hinder the love the two share."

"Aye, and Legolas hides things from him of much lesser importance for fear of causing strife," Elladan elaborated. "He is not likely to be comfortable informing Elrond when he plans to seek us out. All the deception just keeps them from becoming devoted mates. If we remain, I fear the resultant tension will be much worse for them both and the child."

"Well spoken, Elrondion." Thranduil could not help smiling his approval, for Elladan's argument was exactly what he would hope his son's mate would say. The elder twin, he deemed, was more attuned to Legolas' feä. "Elril will divulge this new arrangement to Elrond," the King announced. "Your adar respects him and will not argue with such an esteemed elder among our people. One way or another, the three of you are going to do right by my son and ensure his babe not only survives but is born healthy and strong."

"We wish that, too," insisted Elrohir, "but who is Elril? We believed ourselves acquainted with all of Adar's friends and no of none among the Greenwood's folk."

"Ah, you have not met your great-uncle yet," chuckled Thranduil, smiling in genuine appreciation of the meeting, for he knew the old elf was highly displeased with the news Celeborn had shared regarding the brothers' opinions of Legolas. "He is your grandmother's brother, a twin as are you two, and the rightful heir of Dior of Doriath. Your history does not recount his life among the sylvan people, for great secrecy accompanied the adoption of the forgotten princes." Here he puffed up visibly. "My beloved queen is directly descended from Elril."

"Valar! We have missed much whilst working out here," announced Elladan, his tone filled with excitement.

"You believe our ancient kinsman can influence Ada's attitude?" Elrohir was sceptical but Thranduil waived away his doubts.

"You will understand when you meet him," he said grandly. "Now, as to custom concerning multiple mates, this house you are building is ideally suited. Surely you two exhibit far more of that unique trait of foresight inherent in the descendants of Thingol and Melian than your Adar. Such seclusion from the general population is necessary. Even among the sylvans the needs of such a bond are not easily borne."

"That is doubly true for our people," agreed Elrohir. He hesitated until Elladan gave him a mental nudge. "If I may say, Lord, our bond with Legolas gives us great joy and what you ask is no burden to us."

"Indeed," Thranduil's eyes narrowed on hearing this. "I do not want to hear more in this vein, now or in future. Neither do I wish to interfere, but let me make it clear that my son is not to become a play thing traded between the three of you, no matter what he thinks he wants. If I learn, through whatever means, there has been this…" his features screwed up into contours of absolute abhorrence "…quadruple conjunction, there will be immediate reprisals."

"What?" the Twins blurted out, eyes wide and brows arched high.

"Your hearing is not failing nor is my faculty of speech impaired," growled the discomfited father. "He is too young and inexperienced to indulge such fantasies, having no means to judge the severity of the consequences. Furthermore, he is at the very least your equal and you will treat him as such."

"Of course," Elladan stammered, still shaken by the implications of the King's admonishment. He wants us all together?

"We would never take advantage of his youth." Elrohir knew not what else to say, for it seemed Thranduil believed he and his brother likely to encourage such an unseemly act. Ai, to that I do not think I could agree.

"Nor have we any desire to share such intimacy with our Adar," Elladan actually shuddered as he spoke the words.

"Good, then." Thranduil flashed a quick, uneasy smile and turned back to survey the house. "This house I deem a good omen. Clearly you designed it with his wishes in mind. I like the open plan and Legolas will love it."

"Aye, he does," Elrohir appended with hopeful enthusiasm. "Would you like to see the inside?"

"He knows of it?" Thranduil's smile grew. "That must have eased his fears. In some sense I wish Lindir had waited for our arrival before instructing you, for it would have been better for Legolas' parents to prepare him for the new bond. Nothing was told to him of such things for his future was set, you see, and there was no reason to suspect he would ever be subjected to such a fate as this."

The twins wisely withheld their comments on this, knowing Thranduil spoke of the practice of trading one's offspring for political or economic gain. It was not for them to judge the King, for next to the wrong they had done Legolas, his was inconsequential. With genuine pride and the desire to gain their new law-father's approval, the brothers guided him through the front door and the tour progressed. By the time they reached the nursery and Thranduil found the toys for his grandchild, he was close to tears.

"I am pleased," he said softly, "and much reassured. The bond is true. You are worthy mates for my son, yet I cannot let what you have done go unpunished. There is something you will have to bear in conjunction with the ceremony about to take place; something you will do for Legolas and his primary mate, though mayhap in future you will benefit from it as well." Thranduil was turning decidedly pink about the ears and his voice dropped in volume. "There are certain sylvan traditions regarding the wedding night," he confided. "Normally his brother would handle such details, but that is impossible."

The twins shared a surprised and eager look. "You intrigue us," said Elladan, leaning close and lowering his voice also. "What would you have us do?"


TBC

~ ~  Glossary  ~ ~

Acharn-en-Adar: a Father's Vengeance

Erthad Veren: Joyous Union

Esgal Orthant: Raised Veil

Henen Vell: My Dear Child

Sell-en-Iellen: daughter of my daughter

Elei Velthin: Golden Dreams


Ôlpathu: Dream place

© 10/16/2009 Ellen Robey