Shattered Light

A/N: Finally, here is chapter 5. Forgive the delays between updates; the semester is one month from being over, my lab students are becoming a pain, and I have a Microbiology paper due in a week and a half which I've already begun work on (need to finishing reading the info by this weekend). But I am still working on this story; will tackle chapter 6 between working on my paper.
Beta read by Ilye; hope you all enjoy!


Chapter 5: Heart’s Comforting

Whilst his father attended to the duties of Imladris as a temporary substitute for the day, Legolas had spent the morning and early afternoon wandering the grounds of the valley. Since his arrival he had been enchanted with the beauty of Imladris, often spending his time riding through the surrounding woods or walking the banks of the Bruinen. Even the libraries of Elrond were a sight to behold for the young prince, who was never quite content being confined indoors. Thranduil had encouraged his children to keep an open mind about their Noldor kin, but sadly the libraries of Mirkwood scarcely contained any history of the elves in question. Legolas could easily spend hours in the studies, reading about past battles he had never before heard of--had it not been for his adventurousrit rit calling him outdoors.

Walking along the Bruinen yet again that afternoon, Legolas marveled at the river and its accompanying waterfalls. He immensely enjoyed the feel of the cool spray against his face, and liked to watch the fish swimming through the crystal clear waters. The prince had long removed his boots and was now walking at the very edge of the river, his elven surefootedness keeping him from slipping into the rushing waters. Sighing in contentment, Legolas remembered a time when Mirkwood had been as beautiful as the valley, not as haunted and dark as it had become only recently.

A playful splash sounded nearby, catching the prince’s attention. Turning in the direction of the noise, his breath caught at the sight of the eldest son of Elrond swimming elegantly through the waters. Elladan’s hair, wet from the water, clung to his neck, shoulders and back; drops of the crystal liquid glistened on his skin, reflecting the sunlight in a dazzling array. He was dressed only in his leggings, his tunic and boots having been discarded in a careless pile on the bank. The Peredhel didn’t seem to notice Legolas’ presence or the prince’s fascinated stare as he cut through the water for a few moments, before flipping over to float upon his back.

Legolas found that he couldn’t take his eyes off of the stunning dark beauty before him. Without realizing it, he took a step forward as if to move closer to the eldest twin; he wasn’t aware of the sudden drop in depth however until he found himself completely submerged underwater. He struggled to get his feet under him, to stand and break the water’s surface, but the muddy bottom caused him to slip under again.

Hands grasped Legolas firmly under the arms, pulling him out of the watery depths. Legolas gasped, coughing almost convulsively as he expelled water and drew in air. He was vaguely aware of a pair of arms holding him against a warm body whilst the coughing fit passed.

“I see no one has yet warned you of the sudden step from bank to river, my dear prince,” a voice said, mirth and concern mingling in the tone.

Legolas raised his head, giving Elladan an embarrassed smile. “Nay, unfortunately not,” he replied, brushing away some golden locks that clung to his cheeks. “Thank you for helping me lest I unceremoniously drown.”

“Now I couldn’t just let you drown.” Elladan returned the smile before helping Legolas out of the cold waters, drops falling from their hair and clothes onto the grass. “Come, the sun is high and feels pleasant to the skin. We can talk whilst we lie on the grass and dry off.” He smiled again when Legolas nodded and wrung the water from his clothes; Elladan paused momentarily to collect his tunic and boots before moving over to an open, sun warmed spot.

Elladan lay back upon the soft grass, stretching in a feline manner as the sun began to warm his skin. His eyes were closed, but he could hear Legolas shufflingut qut quietly beside him, the sound of wet clothing plopping softly on the ground before the prince also stretched out upon the grass.

“You seem much improved these last few days,” the prince remarked, turning his head until his eyes captured Elladan’s stormy gaze.

“What do you mean?”

“You seem…more content than when we first met.”

Elladan sighed, his expression sobering a touch as he turned to stare at the sky overhead. “I still miss my mother, and I worry for my father. Things will never be the same and I don’t expect them to. But I can’t help feeling this emptiness inside me. I know Elrohir feels the same, as does Arwen. We try to be cheerful, for Ada’s sake. It’s difficult sometimes, I admit, but we try.”

Hearing the lost tone in Elladan’s voice, Legolas rolled onto his side and reached for the Peredhel’s hand, entwining their fingers. “You aren’t alone, meldir. You have a friend in me; should you need an ear to listen, I am here.”

“Thank you, Legolas. It means a great deal to me.” Elladan gave the prince a reassuring smile, squeezing the slender fingers in his hands gently. They lay silently for a while, attempting to enjoy the day. Finally, after much debating with himself, Elladan voiced the question that had been nagging at him. “Legolas? What was your mother like?”

The question surprised him as it was quite unexpected. Legolas lifted his head for a moment to gaze once again into Elladan’s eyes, then laid the golden crown back onto the grass bed beneath him before replying. “She was a Sindarin, beautiful with silver hair and green eyes. My brother Celeron and sister Nimriel look the most like her. Arondil and I take after our father in looks.” The golden-haired prince smiled faintly at the memories. “She used to sing my brothers and I to sleep each night, whether we were elflings hiding behind her skirts or warriors returned from a skirmish. My mother had a beautiful voice: it’s what I remember the most about her.”

“What was her name?”

“Erinien.”

“’Forest maiden.’ Appropriate for the bride of King Thranduil.” Elladan tried to imagine what Legolas’ mother had looked like, and found himself thinking of his own mother. The prince’s description of the late wife of Thranduil sounded much like Elladan’s mother. “How did she…”

“Die?” Legolas’ eyes softened as he recalled memories of days long past. “My mother was weak after giving birth to my sister. No more than ten years had passed when she told my father that she did not think her fëa would remain within her body much longer. My father was devastated by the news, but he is strong. He always greeted my mother with a smile upon his face during her remaining days.
“She died peacefully in her sleep, and we were all there to bid her farewell when her time came. Ada was listless for sometime afterwards. My brothers and I divided our time between helping to maintain the kingdom, watch Nimriel and sit with our father. I often sat with Ada whilst Celeron watched Nimriel and Arondil worked with the advisors, but we would often rotate. In time, my father lifted himself of his mourning and slowly became his old self again.”

“How was he able to do that?”

“With our love. He remembered his children: remembered that we, even grown and past our majority, still needed him. We had already lost one parent; none of us would have survived losing another.”

Elladan listened to Legolas’ words, feeling that they reflected what his heart spoke. He realized then that he had found a very deep connection between himself and the Mirkwood prince, due to their shared experiences. “What is your father like?” Elladan asked. “I have heard stories, but King Thranduil seems very…contrary to the rumors that have circulated.”

Legolas laughed then, the chime-like sound filling the air and warming the Peredhel’s heart. “Ada is only half of what the rumors say, and even then it is only on outward appearances. Surely Erestor and Lindir have told you different from others?”

“Nay, they say nothing after their visits to the North. They merely shake their heads when King Thranduil is mentioned as arrogant, but they remain silent.”

“How very like them. But nay, my father only appears bitter and haughty. He cares deeply for our home and people; he would rather die than see a single elf of the wood injured in any way. Ada is not as close-minded as most seem to believe either. He is rather open to the idea of close relations with the other realms, but there are some of his advisors who believe such a course of action is unwise and rash. So he often keeps his opinions to himself, sharing his thoughts with my siblings and I, and works to better relations in secret.” Legolas paused for a moment, not knowing whether his next words would upset or reassure Elladan. After a few moments’ thought, he decided to forge ahead. “Did you know that my father has been in love with yours for ages, even before he married my mother?”

Elladan sighed, closing his eyes against the sunlight. “I suspected as much observing the King over the last few days. Your mother…did she know?”

“I believe she did, and she accepted it. Ada did love Nana, just in a different way to which he loves Lord Elrond. My mother was content with the love that she was given, never asking for more.”

“I do not know how my father feels,” Elladan admitted. “He loved my mother, but my siblings and I know that previously Ada was in love with the High King. Glorfindel, Erestor and Lindir have spoken of their love before, so I know it to be true. I heard it was King Thranduil who pulled Ada back from the brink when Gil-galad died.”

“I have heard such as well. My father does not speak of much of that time, so I know very little of what happened. All I really know is that he spoke for a long time with Lord Elrond, after which they went their separate ways.”

“Does is not surprise you that our fathers are such good friends?”

Legolas shrugged, smiling wistfully. “It does not surprme mme much at all. Even as an elfling, I knew that my father was not always what he seemed. There are a lot of masks, a lot of pretenses; I suppose Ada acquire most of his current facades as a prince under my grandfather’s rather stringent ruling and parenting. Ada didn’t always see eye-to-eye with my grandfather, but he was always careful to hide what he truly thought and felt, especially if it would upset his father. Ada didn’t want my brothers, sister and I growing up like that, like we had something to hide from him.”

“I’m beginning to like King Thranduil more everyday.”

“I am developing a fondness for your father as well, despite his current state.”

Elladan returned the smile that Legolas was giving him; he was glad to discover that his father got along so well with the King of Mirkwood, destroying the rumors Elladan and his siblings had grown up hearing. He could see that Legolas was much like Thranduil, and was growing accustomed to the young prince’s company each day. He found himself wanting to touch the other elf without knowing why. Giving in to the temptation, Elladan reached out and tenderly caressed a wayward lock of golden hair. Crystal blue eyes turned to him, widening slightly at his actions but Legolas didn’t pull away, for which Elladan was relieved.

“Can I ask a favor of you, Legolas?” Elladan whispered.

“Of course, meldir.” Legolas found himself involuntarily moving closer to the twin, feeling mesmerized by the look in Elladan’s stormy gray eyes as the twin fiddled with his hair.

“Will you hold me like you did on the first day we met?” He found his throat going dry and his heart suddenly beating rapidly; nervousness crept into Elladan’s being but he forced himself to speak again. “I find lately that I need someone--anyone--near me, touching me; it’s a comforting feeling. Usually it is Elrohir who gives me comfort, but he is not here now and I…” Elladan wasn’t able to finish as Legolas moved closer, wrapping long, lean arms around the Peredhel and hugging him close. He sighed into the golden hair, closing his eyes. “Hannon le.”

Legolas smiled, hugging his friend. He felt the tiniest bit awkward in their current position but pushed the feeling aside. Elladan needed a friend, a companion, right now, and Legolas would be that person. But…did he want more? Would Elladan accept him as more? The questions without answers began to whirl through the prince’s head, making it difficult to think coherently. He gave up in the end, and just allowed himself to be Elladan’s anchor to the world. There would be time later for other things, other answers to surface.

TBC...