The Boon

Title: The Boon
Author: TICS
Rated: NC17
Genre: Romance, AU, Slash
Pairings: Elrond/Legolas
Summary: Legolas is sent by his father to Elrond of Imladris as part of an agreement to cement relationships between the two realms.
Disclaimer: I own nothing that anyone might consider to be of any value.


A/N: Requested by MDarkdreamer, who threw the bunny at my feet. The bunny was covered in super glue...it wasn't my fault.

Note: //____// indicates a flashback. *____* indicates italics.


The Boon, Chapter Four

Legolas, having failed to achieve the peace of reverie, had spent the night standing before one of the windows in his bedchambers, wrapped in the same filmy robe he had worn the evening before and staring out at the star-lit sky. The cool night breeze lifted tendrils of his hair and caressed his cheek, though he barely felt it.

His body ached sweetly from the loss of his virginity, a constant reminder that he was bound to the Lord of Imladris. Bound. That word echoed in Legolas' mind over and over again. Bound. For Legolas, the word seemed associated not with the melding of souls but rather with the immobility of chains and rope. His mind churned with questions for which he had no answers.

What would be his place here, in the Realm of Elrond Half-Elven? What did Lord Elrond expect of him as his husband? Elrond had told him that he would not lay with Legolas again, unless it was of Legolas' choosing...did the Elf-Lord not want him? Would he never come to Legolas of his own volition again? Was it Legolas' fate to wander these white-washed halls of his Lordship's House, silent, a pale spectral reminder of the union of their Houses? Unwanted, his skills untapped and unneeded, was he to be left alone with only his thoughts for company until called West by the song of Ulmo? Even then, when his feet at last touched the blessed white sands of Valinor, what place would he have with Elrond and Celebrian? Alongside them, or forever behind them, set apart? Was it his fate to be bound and yet ever alone?

That he would remain shuttered in these chambers cloistered from life was an unthinkable fate to the Woodland Prince. Already he yearned for the freedom he had known all of his life; the freedom of the forest. The freedom of taking his bow and riding to where ever his horse's hooves would take him - the blue canopy of the sky his roof and the soft emerald grass his bed; his walls defined only by the distant horizon. He missed the comfort of the soft whispers of the trees as they spoke of mundane things...wind, rain, the coming of the little death of Winter, the joy of rebirth in Spring. Legolas was a Wood Elf...to be sequestered in a building of stone away from the lifeblood of nature would mean his end.

His thoughts turned to his youth, growing up under the firm but loving hand of his father, Thranduil. He remembered himself as an elfling, holding his first bow, mounting his first pony, making his first shot, then later as a young adult sitting at his father's right hand during trade discussions with the Men of Laketown, then later still as a warrior, hunting the horrific spiders that had infiltrated the beauty of Greenwood, lending it its new moniker of Mirkwood. Always there, whether in the Great Cavern of his father, or beneath the sheltering boughs of the forest, or riding across the dusty plains of the Brown Lands, he had felt free.

But now it seemed he was bound - bound hand and foot to a fate not of his choosing.

And yet...

Elrond's touch had been gentle, sweet and caring. He had brought Legolas' body to heights that were previously unknown by the Woodland Prince; heights that Legolas found himself craving to reach again. At the moment their souls had touched, the Elf Lord had given wings to Legolas' heart...he had allowed it to break free of the confines of his chest and soar with a freedom the Wood Elf had never imagined possible.

In Elrond's arms, Legolas had felt wanted and needed in a way he had never experienced before - not with his father, not with his warriors. He found that he desperately wanted to feel that way again...to feel that way always. He wondered which his choice would be if he were forced to choose between the freedom of the forest and the freedom given him by Elrond's touch. Legolas found that such a choice would be unfathomable...he could not, would not make such a choice.

He wanted both, it seemed.

FInally, at dawn, he turned from the window and sat on the bench near a small dressing table. Looking down, he saw his mithril circlet glittering in the pale new light of Anor. Reaching out with one finger he thoughtfully traced its scrolling curves, remembering when his father had first placed it upon his brow at the celebration marking Legolas' Majority.

//Legolas, you are a Prince of the Woodland Realm. It is your place to serve at my side, to put always the good of our people before your own wants. To serve their needs and see to their well-being. Remember always with pride the dignity of the blood that flows through your veins. Bring honor to this House and to your forebearers by seeing your duties to their completion to the utmost of your abilities. This is your destiny; your sacred trust. You are a Prince of the Woodland Realm of Greenwood the Great. //

"I am thus," Legolas thought, picking up his circlet and holding it up before his eyes. Looking into the gleaming metal he saw not his own brilliant blues eyes reflected there, but those of his father. "I am my father's son, first and always. That I have bound with the Half-Elven Lord has not changed who I am. The blood of greatness runs through my veins no less than that with which Elrond's heart beats; the pride in my heart for my people and their history is no less than his own. So be it. If I am bound as a spouse to this Elf-Lord, then let it be as a Prince, my footing equal with his own. I will make my own place in his House."

Rising, a look of determination cast itself over Legolas' fine features and he strode to the wardrobe that had been placed at the far end of the room, near the screen that sheltered his bath. Washing quickly, he dressed in his formal tunic and leggings of silver and his soft gray boots, brushed and braided his hair into his accustomed warrior braids, and placed his circlet upon his brow. Shouldering his quiver and bow, along with his pair of white-handled fighting knives, he left his chambers looking every inch a Prince and Warrior, his shoulders back and his head held high, fully intent on letting his presence be known in the House of Elrond.

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Voices chattered in the dining hall as Legolas approached, although they ceased the moment the platinum Prince passed through the doorway. Elrond sat at a table near the head of the room, his twin sons with him, as well as another raven-haired Elf, and one with hair as golden as Legolas' own.

Legolas made his way to the table, looking at no one but Elrond and ignoring the silence that hung so thickly in the air that the Wood Elf felt he could likely cut through it with his knife. With the formality bred within him from his upbringing in his father's Court, Legolas bowed deeply before the Lord of Imladris. "Good morn, my Lord," he said.

"Good morn my...er...Legolas," Elrond replied, casting a quick sideways glance at his sons who sat as stoically as stone at the table, their glittering gray eyes watching Legolas' every move. Elrond was set aback by the appearance of his new spouse at the breakfast table. He had not thought that his husband of so short a time would have been comfortable breaking fast with him and his family so soon after their bonding, and had planned to have food sent to him in his chambers. He wondered how well this would turn out...he had not time to forewarn his sons, and he worried over their reaction to the Prince's presence. Legolas' decision to seek him out unnerved the Lord a bit...but pleased him as well. "Please, join us," he invited, offering Legolas a seat to his right.

"Might I introduce to you Master Erestor, my Advisor and Historian of Imladris, and to his bonded, Glorfindel, Preceptor of my Guardians," Elrond said, gesturing to each Elf in his turn.

"Welcome to Imladris, Your Highness," Erestor replied, offering the Wood Elf a warm smile and a nod.

"Aye, welcome," Glorfindel said, offering Legolas his own nod of greeting. "Word of your skill with the bow has reached my ears even here, far from your homeland. I should be most interested in watching you work the catgut, if you might see your way clear to a demonstration...?"

"Ever my mate's mind is on the battlefield!" Erestor admonished, casting Glorfindel a baleful look. "At the least let him break his fast, Glorfindel!"

Legolas smiled benevolently at the bickering pair of Elves, and nodded his assent to Glorfindel. "I should be honored, my Lord Glorfindel. Know that my bow is yours, should you wish it."

"Your bow is not wanted or needed here!" Elladan stated, his eyes burning with undisguised malice for the Wood Elf. "The Guardians of Imladris have successfully protected and served this realm without the service of your bow, and will continue to do so!" From the venom in his voice it was abundantly clear to all the Elves at the table that Legolas' bow was not that of which Elladan was truly speaking, but of Legolas, himself.

Elladan shrugged off his brother's hand on his arm and stood up, feeling hurt and betrayed by his father and glaring his misdirected anger at Legolas.

Legolas looked up stonily at the incensed son of Elrond, meeting his angry eyes in an unwavering stare, although he could feel his cheeks flush under the verbal attack.

"Elladan!" Elrond hissed, a fierce frown of embarrassment creasing his brow. "Is your word to me worth nothing more than the air used to make it?"

"Adar...he is...in mother's chair..." Elrohir whispered, his cheeks flushing with both his own discomfort over his brother's harsh words as well as his anger over the Elf's placement at the table. "We have agreed to be cordial, but...must you flaunt him in our faces?" He stood and without another word, followed his brother out of the room.

Elrond sighed, and wiped a hand across his eyes. "My apologies, husband. My sons are overwrought...my decisions of late have been difficult for them to bear. Their mother was loved greatly by them, indeed by all who knew her. Her suffering has left its mark on their hearts as does her absence. They see you as my attempt to replace her...they do not understand."

"Prince Legolas, forgive them their anger. They were wounded so deeply by their mother's pain that they have yet to recover...I doubt that ever will they fully heal. She was attacked by Orcs, you see..." Erestor whispered, reaching over and laying his hand over Elrond's as he spoke. "It was a black time for Lord Elrond...indeed for all of Imladris. Her decision to sail without him, to leave her husband and her children has left a great wound in the heart of this House."

Legolas nodded silently, his eyes moist with compassion. He had lost his own mother as an elfling, and knew that some wounds never healed. "I should have waited for my Lord's invitation...I should not have been so bold as to insinuate myself into your company without leave," he said softly, regretting his decision to leave his chambers and make his presence known. He felt his face burn with shame as he silently berated himself for thinking only of himself, and not of how his presence might affect the rest of Elrond's household. He had brought pain to his new spouse, however unwittingly.

"No!" Elrond said firmly, turning and taking Legolas hand in his own. "You are my husband. The decision to take you as such was mine, and you will not suffer isolation for it! This House is your House, from now until the day you set sail the Straight Road. Never feel that you have not the same welcome as any who live under my roof!"

Glorfindel cleared his throat and stood up, looking down at the Elves gathered at the table. "I must go now and see to the new Guardians' practice on the field. Perhaps Your Highness would wish accompany me? I should be glad to see a Mirkwood bow sing against those of Imladris!"

Nodding, Legolas turned to Elrond. "By your leave, my Lord, I would like to accompany Glorfindel to the practice fields."

Elrond smiled a small, thin smile, knowing that both Glorfindel and Legolas were being diplomatic in finding a way to leave Elrond time alone to deal with his sons. "Aye...I shall see you at dinner, Legolas. I expect you to be at my table...at my side."

Bowing before his husband, Legolas took up his bow and followed Elrond's Preceptor out of the House and down the hillside to the practice field.

TBC...

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Daphne: Thank you..."hot" is a good thing, right? :D

sesshyA: Yes, I tend to be a little prolific...although some might look at it as getting carried away...*snorts* I used the POV's because I wanted to try to show the difference in feelings between Elrond, as an experienced lover, and Legolas, as an untried one, and present the conflict each felt. I didn't feel I could do that from only one perspective.

Steph: *blushes* Thank you, and I'm glad that I've managed to make you happy! It's true, I think Elrond is not as hard as he might have seemed in making the decision to demand Legolas bond with him, and I would think that he'd want to make certain that Legolas knew it through his actions...and I think he sees it as a sacrifice not only on Legolas' part, but on his own...one that he wouldn't want to force onto his own children. A little selfish, considering he forced Thranduil to make his son make that sacrifice, but...there's parents for ya...

Aglarien: Aggie! Thanks, hon...yes, Elrond walked out...I think that he isn't ready to admit to feeling anything for Legolas yet, and that he's still worried that he'd be betraying his wife. I also think he might be leery of how Legolas feels toward him...and I put no one to shame...look how fast Dark updates!

Darkdreamer: I'm so glad that you're liking your bunny so far! Now, get to work on Fire Dance...or have we forgotten Legolas and Gildor?

Tiryaroofshadow: Perhaps Legolas just needed an excuse to feel better about what he was doing...those four little words were what did it for him. Elrond leaving might have been a little hard, but eventually it forced Legolas to remember that he wasn't some shy virginal bride without resources....he remembered his own worth. Plus, it wouldn't make for much of a story if they just fell hopelessly in love that first night, now would it? :D

Haldir's Heart & Soul: You are most welcome, and I'm glad that you like it well enough to want more!