The Robe of the Golden Flower

Disclaimer: LOTR belongs to the creative genius of JRR Tolkien, not me.

The Robe of the Golden Flower.

Part Four.

“Do you have any of the colored oil left, Elrohir?” his brother asked none too innocently.

“On the shelf over there,” replied Elrohir pointing behind his brother. “In that small vial made of midnight blue glass, next to the yellow one,” he explained, directing Elladan to select the correct one. He had seen the wicked gleam in his sibling’s eye, and understood what his twin had planned. There was often no need for words between these two, for not only did they share each other’s features, but they were often able to share each other’s thoughts through the closeness of their bond. When it came to repaying Legolas for his prank, they were definitely of one mind.

“Dry yourself Elrohir and I will bring you one of your robes with a high collar to hide that stubborn blue tinge at the base of your neck,” said Elladan as he stood and walked back into the sleeping chamber. He was halted by the unexpected anger in his brother’s voice.

“I am quite capable of selecting my own garment, Elladan!” declared Elrohir as he pushed past his twin and quickly selected a robe from his armoire that would hide the aftermath of his ‘so called’ friend’s prank

“I was just trying to be of assistance,” was the hurt reply.

“I know and I am sorry I spoke harshly. s Les Legolas I am annoyed with, not you.” Elrohir said, instantly feeling guilty for the outburst. “Have you got the oil?” Elladan nodded, his eyes alight with a mischievous smile. “Then let us go and find our friend,” suggested Elrohir.

********

“Ah, Glorfindel, have you seen my sons today?” asked Elrond, looking up from the book he was reading as the elf lord entered the library.

“I have not seen them since last night in the Hall ire,ire,” answered Glorfindel abruptly as he continued out onto the balcony.

“Nor have I. Last night Elrohir claimed they had a matter of importance to discuss, but they did not even join me for the morning meal,” he explained realizing that Glorfindel had not been there either. “There seems to be some distance between you and my sons of late, have they done something to earn your displeasure?” Elrond asked, wondering if this was the matter his sons had wanted to speak to him about.

Glorfindel took so long to reply that Elrond instinctively knew that something was amiss.

“Very well, Glorfindel, tell me what my sons, and Legolas, I assume, have done now,” he said with a sigh of resignation, for he was not really in the mood to deal with mischief today, especially as the party from Mirkwood was expected to arrive shortly. Thranduil was not quite as tolerant of the antics of the younger elves, or so they had lead Elrond to believe

“It appears that Elladan and Elrohir have come to the conclusion that Legolas and I are love he he said with amusement coloring his voice.

“How did that happen?” he asked, his stunned disbelief evident in his slight choked voice.

“They asked Legolas if it was so, and I believe he answered somewhat ambiguously. Your sons have wild imaginations, at times, Elrond,” he added almost accusingly.

“I take it you did not choose to correct their mistaken assumption?” Elrond asked, also making his words sound like an accusation.

“I thought it best to let Legolas deal with the situation. Unfortunately, rather than explain the misunderstanding, he chose instead to play a prank. Treacle and colored bath oil are the reasons your sons have not been seen all morning, so I believe.” Elrond groaned, and gratefully accepted the goblet of wine that Glorfindel had correctly anticipated he might need.

“Please go and bring them all here, we need to clarify any misuntandtandings before Thranduil arrives,” said Elrond taking a large sip of his wine.

“I am afraid you are too late, mellon nin, the King has just ridden through the gates,” said Glorfindel, inclining his head in the direction of the courtyard below. Elrond stepped onto the balcony and watched with dread as Elladan and Elrohir, with trouble written all over their faces, made their way over to where Thranduil was embracing Legolas.

“Welcome to Rivendell, King Thranduil,” sEllaElladan and Elrohir in unison, both offering a polite bow of respect.

“Greetings, Elladan, Elrohir,” replied Thranduil. The decidedly unfriendly frowns they directed at Legolas did not go unnoticed and the King of Mirkwood, who was well accustomed to the friendly rivalry between his and Elrond’s sons, quickly realized he had arrived in the midst of one of their ‘feuds’. Since he had no intention of intervening, he hastily took his leave.

“If you will all excuse me, I must go and pay my respects to Elrond,” he said, drawing Legolas to one side so that he could whisper a warning in his ear.

“Beware Legolas; whatever it is you have done to them, I suspect they intend to retaliate.” Of that, Legolas had no doubt.

“Walk with us mellon nin,” said Elladan using his most innocent tone of voice, as he and Elrohir stood either r side of their friend, and with a firm grip on both his arms, led him back towards his chamber.

“There is no need to force me,ill ill come with you willingly. I do not wish to make a scene, although I have no notion as to why you seek me out,” he replied, in a voice as equally innocent as Elladan’s.

“You will soon find out then,” observed Elrohir as he nevertheless followed his brother’s lead and took his hand from Legolas’s arm. The three quickly reach the guest chamber that Legolas used when in Rivendell, and before he realized what was happening, Legolas found himself pushed into a chair, and his wrists bound, not roughly, but firmly to the arms of the chair.

“You go too far,” he hissed angrily at his captors, as he tried to free his hands. His eyes widened in apprehension as Elladan held the vial of oil in front of Legolas’s face, and slowly poured a few drops of the dye onto the palm of his hand.

“We were just curious to see what colour this would turn your beautiful golden locks,” teased Elladan as he made to stroke Legolas’s hair with the hand that was covered in dye.

“You would not dare!” exclaimed Legolas, his eyes wide with fear and unable to keep the tremble of uncertainty from his voice.

“I wonder if Glorfindel would find you unattractive if your hair was a lovely shade of green?” leered Elrohir. Legolas stared with disbelief and could not find the words to answer.

“We will let you go if you answer our questions truthfully,” said Elladan, stepping back and wiping his hands clean to show Legolas that he really meant no harm.

“What do you wish to know?” the Mirkwood Elf asked.

“First, are you willing to apologize for the dye and the treacle?” asked Elladan.

“If that is what you wish. I apologize to you both for my actions,” he said with sincerity.

“Do you love Glorfindel?” asked Elrohir, locking eyes with his friend.

“Of course,” was the honest reply.

“Does he love you?” whispered Elrohir. Elladan looked sharply at his brother, sensing sadness in him for some reason he could not define. Now that he thought on it, Elrohir had not been his usual self for several days, and Elladan wondered why.

“I believe so,” answered Legolas, glaring defiantly at Elrohir, who suddenly looked away.

“Hah! I told you Legolas and Glorfindel were lovers, Elrohir!” exclaimed a triumphant Elladan, his joy at finally being proved right dissipating in the ice cold fury of the voice from the doorway. He had briefly met with Elrond whreedreed that perhaps someone should ensure that the level of prank playing amongst the younger elves did not venture beyond acceptable boundaries, as they had occasionally done in the past. As he opened the door and looked inside, his eyes cold not believe what they saw, just as he could not believe what he heard.

“Glorfindel and Legolas are lovers, did you say?” demanded Thranduil as he stormed into the room and quickly released his son from his bonds. “I would speak with my son in private,” he said, giving none of the three a chance to respond. He simply glared at the twins until they accepted the dismissal and hastily left the room. He turned his attention back to his son, rubbing his wrists for him, and scowling at the faint bruises.

“Is it true, Legolas? Has that golden haired Balrog slayer seduced you?” he asked, almost afraid to hear the answer. Thranduil had heard of males seducing other males, but he did not approve of that type of liaison, and certainly did not want Legolas to become involved in such a relationship.

“No, Adar, we are not lovers, although you know full well that I have grown to love Glorfindel as a dear friend. I was simply teasing Elladan and Elrohir by allowing them to think that we are.”

“And why would you do that?” asked Thranduil curiously. He listened in silence as Legolas quickly outlined the events of the previous few days, and could not help but feel embarrassed for his son at the image Glorfindel must have witnessed in Elrond’s study. However, his compassion did not extend to Legolas’s poor behavior in regards to the wine.

“I am most disappointed that you would attempt to steal from your host, and you were fortunate not to be punished as you should have been. Teasing Elrond’s sons is your own affair, and you should expect to bear their reprisal, but the jest has gone too far when I find you tied to a chair,” admonished Thranduil. “Is Elrond aware of this nonsense that is occurring between you and his sons?”

“I do not know,” was the sullen reply.

“Then I l sel see that he is made aware of it immediately. I suggest you wait here until I return. I also suggest you might consider locking the door after I leave,” added Thranduil pleased to see his words rewarded with a smile of amusement from his son.

Ai, Adar, I will do as you say. It is the only way to keep unwanted lovers, or pranksters from entering” agreed Legolas in his usual light hearted manner.

*********

Elladan and Elrohir had barely left Legolas’s chamber when they were met in the hallway by Glorfindel who was coming to find them as Elrond had requested. He noted they both wore a morose countenance, and enquired as to the nature of their unhappiness.

“King Thranduil overheard something not meant for his ears,” offered Elladan with a shrug.

“I happen to think it is well that he does know,” stated Elrohir sharply.

“And what might that be?” Glorfindel asked although he could not help but also wonder at the reason for Elrohir’s insolence.

“Ask him for yourself, if you dare!” said Elrohir angrily.

“Elrond would like to speak with you both, he awaits you in the library,” Glorfindel told them, with cold formality in place of his usual warm affection.