A Gift of Love

CHAPTER FOUR

The Search Part One

Elladan resists all my efforts. I have taken to discussing the merits of she-elves who pass our way, until finally I have worn his patience too thin.

He takes hold of my arm and drags me by the sleeve into the secluded gardens that face our rooms, not stopping until he has closed the doors of mine behind us and drawn the curtains.

His voice is softly fierce, his eyes ablaze.

"This must stop Elrohir.¨ That is all. This must stop. There would be no more discussion. He lets go the tight grip to grace his fingers over my face.

"I can not, nay, I will not go to another, not even to fulfill your portent of the future. There is another explanation for what you have seen.¨ He is more strident than I had ever seen him. For him there is another explanation, though he does not voice what it may be.

For me there is no other explanation. It was so assuredly his child. For me there has to be another way.

So it is that I left him to his sword play and bow. He has plenty who would challenge him as he wants. He had begun to raise only an eyebrow at me when I would seek leave from our training. What I finnd so desirous in the library he does not know, though he has cheekily suggested the new librarian. I laugh, thankful he no longer feels the insecurity of doubt. Thankful also for Ada¡¦s tacit approval of us. It has soothed Elladan beyond measure and we have ceased to pretend we do not share a bed.

My mind has been set on this path by not a vision this time but a dream. I had woken listless with Elladan curled close to me. Nothing could lure me back to sleep. I had carefully extricated himself from my brother to stand at the window, looking out over the moon flooded garden. Still I struggle with what had been presented before me. Surely it can not be, yet it seems so possible.

If any library on all of Arda is to help me, it is the one I have shied away from all of my life. So I sit hour upon hour, looking at the increasingly faded parchments spread before me. I am sure none had touched these in millennia.

This day the words float around me. I can focus on nothing. I have found not one trace that I could hold my hopes to. So I raise and wander out of the small alcove, standing on the balcony to watch. The breeze caresses my face, as warm and comforting as Elladan¡'s touch always is. We have not spoken of my vision since the day in our room. I am sure he thinks it forgotten. A soft rustling catches my attention. The breeze shuffling the papers on my desk no doubt. With a sign of grim determination I turn to spend some last moments before I join my brother once more.

I sit, resting my elbow on the table, my head cradled in the palm as my other hand reaches for the parchment I had put down minutes ago. Desperate to focus now, I read with increasing concern. Still holding the parchment tight I search the desk. I realise I had not given this my full attention, but even I recognise it was not what I had put down.

Words begin to catch my attention as I frantically read. I shake my head, looking round. That it has been deliberately placed atop the scattered pile of parchment does not concern me. It is by whom that puzzles me greatly.

The hour grows late. I have barely begun to read in earnest. With shaking hands I roll the document, securing it with the tie. I will take it with me. It is too precious to leave. Here is a small measure of promise. My heart pound with expectation. What I had thought impossible may not be quite so.

If Elladan grows impatient at my constant leave of him, he gives no sign. Indeed it is possible he enjoys the benefit of it. I am often so starved of his company in my hours alone that I fall on him almost before he has closed the door behind him.

This night I am anxious to read in full the manuscript I had tucked into the drawer of the small desk in what was nominally now my room, though there is enough of Elladan's strewn clothes and weaponry to not make that certain. All eagerness for this task dissipates as I watch my brother disrobe.

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Elladan's skill with the bow is becoming legendary. I sit in the dappled light of the tree, glancing up to him. I wonder whether one day he would match himself with the archers of Mirkwood. I would look forward to that having no doubt on the outcome despite what my brother would call my bias.

As he sets about his task I go about mine. Carefully I unroll the parchment I have had little opportunity to read since stowing it away the night of its find. I glance again to Elladan as he stands perfectly posed, each muscle straining. Little wonder I have found no time to study the contents of the faded pages. The sight of him drives any thought from my mind. Even now I feel my body stir. Others watch also, captivated by the grace and form of him. I sigh deeply, shaking my head with a smile before focusing my attention on the parchment. Elladan is mine, I am secure in that. Now I hope I have not built my dreams too heavily on the fragile paper in my hands.

It is a diary of sorts, a chronicle and I am soon lost in its words.

// What I had thought hero worship of my elder brother I fear is no longer, I cannot hide from myself the truth of what I feel. He touched me innocently in correcting the hold on my bow. His body pressed close behind mine. I could feel the full hardness of his body. And something else. His breath was warm, nay hot, on my cheek as he changed the angle of my hand. If I simply had turned my head but an inch his lips would be on mine.

I shuddered, almost releasing the grip I had on the arrow. He is my brother, my blood, my kin. Yet no other stirs my heart as he does. //

I look up from my reading as Elladan releases the perfect arrow. No other stirs my blood as he does. He turns and smiles. My brother. He returns to his undertaking, I to mine.

//"Elurin?¨ he asked questioningly, "are you unwell?¨

"No,¨ I whispered back, then, "perhaps it is warm.¨

"Of course, let us finish for the day. We shall go to the river, the water will refresh you.¨

The river, I could only hope the water would cool the fire that flamed my blood.

My elder brother walked with his arm around my shoulder. He is my brother. It is the affection of those bound by blood not hearts. Yet I lean a little closer to him, my head almost on his shoulder and he does not shy from me.

The river is welcome, we played as we had as elflings when he brought us all here. We laughed with the abandon we had felt then.

Suddenly he disappeared. I looked around for him only to be gripped tight from behind. Laughing still I turned. We were close, we looked to each other, his lips were on mine. Then he was gone.

I swam after him, stood as he gathered his clothes and walked from me.

"Elured?¨ he stopped on the call of his name. I stood behind him as turned. So close, we looked to each other. My lips on his.

I had gathered my courage and pulled him to the grass. My brother became my lover that day, bound to each other by blood and heart.

It is not an easy thing to love as we do. You fear even the smallest touch being seen, being whispered on. But it did not dim our love. We knew it was how it should be. //

"Tis late, brother.¨ Elladan¡¦s hand is extended to mine. Quickly I roll the papers, securing them. I take his hand as he pulls me up in to his arms. I know this is how it should be.


CHAPTER FOUR

The Search Part Two

It is to be several days before I cvan return to the chronicles. Duty forever will be our watchword and bands of orc do not wait patiently while I explore a means to my vision. Nor can I in conscience allow others less experienced to ride in my place. So we ride. By Elladan's side as always.

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I watch as the horde are upon us. Watch Elrohir in his grim determination to end life. Not that he or I consider the wretched things that lay in heaps about us now life. We scorn them and slay them for the manifestations of evil that they are.

He is beautiful in his fury, dark hair flying as he turns, slicing the air and flesh with long strokes. It is a deadly grace, yet I fear for him each time. One move slower, one step too late, one blow too close......

"Elladan?¨ I jump, such was I taken by my dark thoughts. My attention back, I nod to my brother and set about the burning the bodies. I kick at the rough weapon at my foot, pushing it into the flames. I watch as it glows red, appalled by its ugliness. To think it could claim a life as beautiful as Elrohir's. I look at my own weapon, black stained and shake my head. Would it matter if it were elegant weapon or crude device?

"Elladan?¨ I blink this time at my name, turn to him with a smile.

"You are so far away brother.¨

I nod in answer. I can not tell him how much I fear to lose him. I place my hand on his shoulder. "There are so many of them.¨

Elrohir covers my hand with his. "Less now.¨

"Less now,¨ I reply. He walks from me, his hand falling the length of my arms, finger tips so tantilisingly touching my hand. We can surmise all know the closeness we share and though I long to hold him in my arms to be reassured that he is safe, I satisfy myself with that moment of intimacy.

We camp by the river to wash the stench from us. My arm aches as I wash the blood and cover it before Elrohir sees. It is a scratch only but it reminds me once more that even immortals are vulnerable. It will heal before we set off for home at day break.

Clean and refreshed from our supplies of dried fruits we sit by the fire, not for warmth, but companionship among our small band. We tell tales of older times before our birth. It is easy company to enjoy, for us to forget the killing of the day, and I do not mind so much the time spent. One by one, sometimes I note with a smile, in twos, later we make for our beds. Elrohir¡¦s extended hand helps me from the ground and, as is necessity to sleep close, but not together. I miss him when we are this near.

We travel home without incident. In our wake the paths are less dangerous. I chafe at the more we can do, but we have made our promise to Ada that we will be gone no longer than three days. Elrohir is keen to return to his readings. I have not asked what entrances him so, when he is ready he will tell me as he has ever done. I wonder however if one is permitted to be jealous of pieces of paper and the stories they tell.

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Elladan is off to give his report as captain as I settle into the chair to take up the chronicle I have longed to continue. My mind lingers on my brother as my fingers unlace the tie. If the choice falls to him he will lead our people well in Ada's stead in battle. He is strong, loyal, skilled and fearless with the confidence of those around him. If he takes regard for his own safety he will not have his brother to contend with. He thinks I did not notice this time the heaviness of his arm.

The parchment rustles on my lap and I eagerly take it up.

//We call each other by the names bestowed on us by those present at our births only with each other. We guard closely what and who we are. Elured and Elurin, sons of Dior, enemy to Feanor, lovers to each other. We have lived long among those who would harm us simply for those names, others who would see us as abominations. They will call us worse if they knew of our plans. There are few who would not lay blame on us for turning to each other. We confide in none but the wizard.

For all our lives he has been the one who has shielded us most from the world. The one who found us, natured us. He does not condemn. He had nodded his head when told of our love, took our linked hands in his with a smile. And with a grin had left us a pouch and a mystery. Oils of all kinds and letter written in his hand. And wonder at how he came so prepared.

A need began to take form in our passion for each other, yet we understood what could not be. Knowledge did not kerb the want. We spoke of ways and means, none to our satisfaction. Neither could part with the other. It was not jealousy, it was not mistrust in our love. All of that stood strong. It was the desire to create something of us both.

When we asked this of our true friend he frowned, unsure for all his wisdom of the rightness of our request. He had gone away. "To think on it.¨ He had said. We held our hopes a little higher on his words.

He spoke to us of risk and danger. Of the unknown. Of being the first. We listened intently, I holding Elured's hand so firm it was a wonder it did not break. The wizard spoke only of facts, not the fear behind his words that we could plainly see. I hoped he could see in our countenance the resolve to do this thing.

He asked that we take time to consider all he has said now it seems more possible. He left alone with our thoughts. For days we did not know how to speak to each other on it. Our conversations dance around the edges until we can avoid it no longer.

"We try?¨ my brother had simply asked.

I nodded my head. "We try.¨

Once more the wizard was with us. He still doubts our wisdom. Yet, for all his misgivings, he grants it to us.

And we asked one further thing of him before he takes his leave of us. If there be something amiss, we will go to the Waiting Halls to be condemned together. Grimly he placed two vials in the hands of Elured.

"If they are needed......¨ He had said, turning before we could see the wetness of his tears.

We who have only had each other to cleave to fell together in embrace.

The stuff was vile in taste and smell. Then I could think of no worse as I swallowed the foul brew morn and night and jested why it fell to me. Elured smiled each time

You are the younger.¡¨ There is truth in that, but also in what we do not say. I had begged this of him. On bended knee before him. Pleaded until he acquiesced.

Later, my body prepared, I learned of grimmer stuff. Its awfulness sweetened by the instruction that we must love each night. Sated by the dualness of our pleasure we slept always with hands resting on my stomach, waiting for some sign.

Months passed, each night our hands entwined still over my body. Across a stomach that was no longer flat. We had laughed and cried on the dawn of the day that saw me turn from the disagreeable connection and run. As I lurched the newly eaten morning meal onto the base of the tree, Elured stood behind me, my hand in his, the grip tight.

He wiped my face, offered the cool water to sip. We lay in each other's arms that day, all else forgotten while we pondered what we had done.

They were long months.

Elured hovering over me in each little task I undertook. Gently chiding me to take care, knowing well not to seek to stop me unless I became too eager in my work.

The two glass tubes of purple liquid never far from both our minds. Together, if the time came, we would take them and face our judgment.

There were more vile brews for Elured to feed me. These to sustain a life I had not been made for. I swallowed them as willingly, if not more so, than I had done the others. It was no hardship.

Our child was born in the simpleness of what had been our home for many, many seasons. Elured had wielded the knife, crying out in as much pain as I as he cut the child from me. Such things were long forgotten once we beheld the perfect creature we had created. I closed my eyes and thanked the Valar, for surely they do not condemn us with such a gift. //

I hold the papers to my chest and weep.