In Twilight

A/N: Beta read by Ilye; thanks again, love!
Gonna be taking a short break in writing due to graduate entry examinations on Monday. Chapter 5 will be up as soon as Ilye is done beta reading and I can make the corrections. Thanks for the patience, and the faithful reviews. Next chapter is going to be a slashy one in case anyone is wondering.

/ / denotes thoughts.
~~~~~~~~~~ denotes changes in scene or POV.


Chapter 4: By the Twilight
Summary: The night is a mystical time in dark Mirkwood, as two new lovers will soon discover.

Days, weeks, months passed in a near blur. Autumn turned into winter, the cold melting away into spring. As midsummer approached, and preparations were made for the moonlight festival Mirkwood held every year, the princes and princess of the forest found themselves eagerly awaiting not only the much anticipated festival, but the journey they would be undertaking just a few short months later. For it was nearly time for Ellaand and Elrohir’s foster year to come to a close; by early autumn, they would return to Imladris in the company of Arondil and his siblings, who would then begin their year with the twins in the valley. Thranduil’s children had heard much about the Last Homely House, but never expected to visit it--at least not for a while longer. They eagerly spoke amongst themselves, wondering what Imladris would be like, and if the elves were anything like the twins. They almost found themselves wishing they could leave that day, but knew their presence was needed at the feast and for a bit longer in Mirkwood.

Though the twins were looking forward to returning home, they felt a slight sorrow fill their hearts at having to leave the woodland realm. They had had their shares of battles with Orcs and Wargs and other dark servants of the enemy who dared enter the forest; these clashes were much anticipated at times, since the twins rarely left the Greenwood during their stay. They also had memories of happier times, talking long into the night with the king and queen, who they came to view as second parents. They also found themselves tutoring the patrol apprentices daily with the princes. Other days were spent taking walks along the streams with Nimriel, who eagerly asked them questions about Lorien, Imladris and their sister, Arwen.

For Elladan, none of these other activities seemed to compare with the nightly strolls he took along the vast halls of the king with Legolas. The pair would talk about anything and everything that came to their minds. Though he always felt his heart go aflutter when in the prince’s company, Elladan also found it strangely alluring and comforting. They talked with ease together, sometimes embarrassing the other, laughter spreading through the corridors at their companion’s expense. They were unaware of the two shadows who often trailed them, their number multiplying by two when Celeron and Nimriel had discovered the same looks of longing in their eyes, just as Arondil and Elrohir had.

Circling the preparations being made for the night’s feast, Elladan discovered that, deep down, he was grateful for his father’s insistence that he and his twin foster a year in Mirkwood. Thranduil had been nothing like what he had expected. He had steeled himself to meet a proud, haughty king who thought of nothing but himself and his line. Instead, he found someone willing to do anything and everything for his family, even against his own wishes, something Elladan knew his own father could relate to. Thranduil was the type of king and father who would swallow his own dislike for someone, or something, if his children found approval. Although there were times Elladan saw a flicker of contempt in the king’s blue orbs when someone reminded Thranduil of the Noldorion or human blood that the twins possessed, he composed himself quickly and tried to remain pleasant. For the king would never openly admit to anyone, save his wife and children, that he had become quite fond of the twins during their stay, as they had proved themselves pleasant company and experienced warriors. He had nearly adopted the Imladrian twins as his own, and was rather saddened to see them go.

As Elladan walked, stopping now and then to talk to other elves, he was unaware of a pair of sapphire eyes following him, the same blue orbs that always watched him from afar, but seemed too shy away when he was near. Legolas slyly lurked in a corner, watching the twin in fascination, disregarding everything else that was going on around him. He felt a warmth filling him as he observed Elladan, a warmth he always felt when watching the dark-haired elf, or when speaking to him. Curious, he had once asked his mother in passing what such a feeling would mean; Erinien had simply smiled happily and announced that he would learn soon enough; it was not her place to tell him if he could not discover his feelings on his own. Her evasive answer had annoyed Legolas in the last three weeks since he spoke with her, and still he had not found an answer. The truth be told, he knew what he was feeling, but was afraid to voice it to himself. But the time come where Legolas could not rely on another to discover his feelings. He had to speak of them, and to Elladan. He had to speak about them now.

Mounting the courage he needed, something he found terribly difficult to do despite the mtimetimes he had rushed into a battle without thinking, the prince steeled himself, forcing his hands not to tremble, as he walked into the hall and towards the twin. His steps were slow and deliberate, giving him time to gather together his thoughts in a coherent manner. It took several deep breaths before Legolas could get his voice to work, without sounding anything but calm.

“Elladan?” At the sound of his name, the twin pardoned himself from the maid he had been speaking to and turned to the one behind him. He was slightly surprised to find himself facing Legolas; Elladan had to squelch the sudden flow of excitement threatening to bubble over inside him.

“Yes, Legolas?” Elladan marveled at the golden beauty he saw in Mirkwood’s youngest prince, and not for the first time. Again he felt his heart go aflutter, and tried desperately to calm his nerves. He had spent manyleepleepless night dreaming about the flaxen-haired prince now standing before him. Elladan had lost count of how many times he wished he could fin fingers through the golden , im, imagine the touch of the creamy-pale skin underneath his hands. Sometimes, as they went on their nightly walks, his hand would brush against his companion’s, sending jolts up his arm and leaving a tingling sensation, after which he would try to find any excuse to make accidental contact again. Elladan ft tot to keep his composure as Legolas began to speak.

“The feast isn’t due to be begin for another hour,” he said, hoping his voice didn’t tremble as he thought it did. “There is little we can do while the maids prepare; we would only be getting in their way. Would you care to accompany me on a walk about the grounds?” The twin merely nodded as the two left the hall, the ends of their formal garments fluttering around them.

As they made their way down the corridors and out into the night-filled forest, Elladan caught himself glancing over at his companion more than once. The prince wore yet another silver tunic, one Elladan had seen him wear on many a formal occasion; vines in a pale golden thread had been stitched expertly over his shoulders and down his arms in graceful twists and arcs. No belt adorned his trim waist, as the tunic tapered to his fitted form. Tapered sleeves flared slightly from above the wrist to rest in lazy waves halfway down a slim hand. Moss-green leggings and brown leather boots completed the look; a soft moss brown cloak fell from his shoulders in placed folds, held in place by a single black leather belt.

“Elladan?” The musical voice broke the Imladrian prince from his thoughts as he raised his eyes to his companion‘s face. He inclined his head briefly to indicate that he was listening. “Have you enjoyed your time here?”

“Very much so,” Elladan replied as the two weaved in and out through of beech trees, the stars shining down on them from above. With another sideways glance he noticed Legolas’ hair was braided in the same fashion as usual, nothing elaborate for the feast, the ends flowing over the prince‘s shoulders in tumbling waves. “Elrohir and I did not know what to expect when we first arrived. Indeed, we were reluctant to come in the first place. I’m glad our father insisted on our going. Somehow, he knew we would enjoy it here. I know not how, but he knew, and I am glad for his persistence in the matter.”

“I’m glad.” Elladan blinked at the sound of relief flooding into Legolas’ voice. “In truth, I was a little apprehensive about you arriving as well. My brothers thought the idea was just when my father presented it to us; they felt, as he did, that a strong alliance, which would come from a foster year. My sister was excited to see elves from outside the Greenwood, especially ones who would be arriving from the valley.”

“And you? You said you felt apprehensive.” Legolas sighed deeply, nodding at his companion’s keen observation, barely registering the brush of Elladan’s velvety wine robe against his fingers. “So? How was it you felt when you heard?”

“I did not know what to think in the beginning. My father respects yours as a lord, but doesn’t seem to really be attached to the Noldorion and human history lord Elrond possesses. It is no secret tha fat father has an extreme dislike for the Kinslayers, and a slight bitterness for the death of my grandfather. He chose right in hoping to gain a peaceful alliance with Imladris, and he has done well to hide any dislike of your bloodlines he may have. I believe it is safe to say that he rather adores you and Elrohir.” Elladan couldn’t help but smile at such a comment. He was indeed pleased that he and his brother had been able to win over the king of Mirkwood, as well as his wife and children. Realizing Legolas had not yet finished speaking, Elladan continued to listen, keeping his thoughts quiet for a moment longer. “Even knowing this, I was still a little apprehensive about your arrival, mostly because I knew not what kind of people I would be dealing with. And I would be dealing with such people on a daily basis for a year; nay, two years once my foster year began. But, yes…it all melted away after a few days.”

“Then you…” He cocked an eyebrow, waiting in anticipation for the prince’s answer.

“Enjoyed your company? Very much so.” The prince smiled, bringing a warm feeling to Elladan’s core with the simple act. “You and Elrohir are a pair of caring, understanding people. You must be, for what you go through to avenge your mother, as I have heard. You must have loved her very much. I have never met Lord Elrond, but it seems to me from all the stories that I hear that you resemble him greatly.”

“Many others have told us so as well. Elrohir and I tend to deny it. We are not as old and bookish as our father, nor indeed do we ever wish to be.” Legolas let out a soft snort of laughter at Elladan’s paternal teasing.

“I know the feeling well, for many have been kind enough to point out the similarities between my father and myself.” Elladan grinned at the sigh of annoyance Legolas unwillingly let out.

The pair stopped beneath a beech tree, turning to gaze at one another. Legolas marveled at how the moonlight played over Elladan’s wine and silver-gray robes, the garments draped from the twin‘s long limbs in lush waves and folds. His dark hair had been twisted expertly in places; a clasp of beaten mithril held most of the tresses out of his eyes and face. He was unadorned with jewelry, but proudly wore the colors of his father’s realm; he and his twin would be a sharp contrast from the many Mirkwood elves that would be in attendance. Legolas found the dark beauty before him breathtaking, feeling his heart quickening a pace or two. Slowly, almost cautiously, he reached up, first twirling slender fingers into a twist of silky dark hair laying over a shoulder, before moving his hand further up to cup a warm cheek. He was ever aware of Elladan’s eyes fixed on him, though he didn‘t return the gaze just yet.

“What is it about you, Elladan?” the prince asked in a hushed whisper, as if afraid to break the peace of the moment, moving to look into the gray eyes focused only on his person. “Why is it that when I’m with you the rest of the world can drop away, and I wouldn’t care? For once in my life I feel like I’m being hunted, and yet I don’t mind or care in the least.”

“I could ask you the same thing.” The dark elf pressed his cheek further into the warmth encircling it, bringing his own hand up to cover the other’s. “I am vulnerable around you, when I have never been so in my life since I was born. I look into your eyes and drown in them, even in my sleep. Days and nights are filled tho thoughts of you.”

“Mine as well.” The prince blinked in confusion as Elladan’s eyebrows shot up in wonder, a bit of teasing hidden in their cloudy depths.

“You think of yourself all the time? How very vain of you, my dear Mood ood prince.” Legolas felt himself coloring at the jest, wrenching his hand playfully away from Elladan’s in a mock attempt at throttling the other. Elladan grinned, catching his wrist in an equally playful manner before the two leaned against one another in fits of laughter.

Moments passed before they calmed, listening to the steady rhythm of the other’s breathing as their own returned to normal. Lifting his head, Legolas looked into the dark elf’s gray eyes, feeling his own slip closed as Elladan leaned forward, pressing their lips together in a light caress. He pulled away, only to come forward again, the kiss deepening. Slender arms encircled his neck as his own wrapped firmly about the trim waist. Lips touched and parted, allowing exploring tongues to play and wrestle with each other in an enticing dance for what seemed like an eternity. The need for air forced the pair slowly apart, their breathing again returning to normal as they gazed at one another with heavy-lidded, and star-filled eyes.

“How long?” Legolas asked, breaking the silence that had began to settle in. Elladan considered his question for a moment before answering, his palm drawing warm circles on the prince’s lower back as the golden head rested against his shoulder.

“Since the day I met you, I believe,” he replied, his voice low but the words spoken near the prince’s almond ear, tongue darting out to flick against a lobe. “You were the first thing I saw when I rode up to your family. It’s you I always look at during meals, you I always watch when tutoring the patrol apprentices, you I always think about when going to sleep each night.”

“I think of you as well, and nothing else. I find myself distracted because of you. Do you realize I almost walked into a wall yesterday because I was watching while you rode through the trees? I have not walked into a wall since I was knee-high. My father was almost appalled when he heard of the incident!” He playfully batted at his new lover when Elladan let out a laugh of amusement at such a revelation. “The things you do to me!”

“And you to me, ernil-nîn.” The dark elf leaned in for another love-filled kiss. Legolas smiled against him, relishing in the feel of their lips touching, their bodies brushing together, causing jolts of excitement to race through them both. He wanted this moment to go on forever, but someone else had another plan.

Their moment was interrupted by a voice sounding into the darkening forest as a maid called for Legolas. The feast was about to begin. Reluctantly, the two pulled apart, a touch of regret in both of their eyes.

“I’ll go first,” the prince said, slowly stepping away from the twin before straightening his clothing. Legolas began to head to the house; Elladan lingered behind a moment. A silent promise passed through them as Legolas stepped into the doorway and turned for one last look, a promise to meet again as soon as the feast was over.

/This dinner is going to be too long/, Elladan thought as he too headed for the house with a long sigh.


Translations:
Ernil-nîn-My prince