The Best Portion
folder
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
2,863
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
2,863
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
chapter 5
Title: The Best Portion (5/6)
Author: Aglarien
Type: FPS
Characters: Elladan/Legolas
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Not mine. The great Master Tolkien's estate owns everything else. I promise to return his elves when I'm done playing with them.
Warnings: AU.
Beta: Jay of Lasgalen. All remaining mistakes are mine alone.
Summary: Written for the Ardor in August fic exchange. Elladan and Legolas finally sail and find joy in Valinor.
Request: Pairing: Elladan/Legolas. Plot: Resolved angst, established relationship in Valinor. Happy ending, please.
That best portion of a good man's life, his little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and of love. ~William Wordsworth (1770-1850)
Chapter 5
Elrond moved his hands gently over Elladan’s chest as his son lay in the bed, frowning at the mottled portrait of pain represented by dark red blotches, vivid purple smudges, and a spattering of putrid yellow. “One of the ribs is broken,” he said quietly, “and is pressing against your lungs, causing fresh bruising. It is well that you are strong. You have borne this injury far too long, my son.”
“I thought they were just cracked,” Elladan replied, his hand clutching Legolas’. Only the three of them were in the room, Elrond having asked the others to leave while he saw to Elladan’s injuries.
“It is nearly impossible for a healer to tell his own injuries, Elladan, especially when pain clouds the vision. But there is nothing you could have done: a healer cannot heal himself,” Elrond responded.
Elladan nodded and watched as his father focused his healing energy, sending it into his tormented chest. Heat flowed from the Master Healer’s fingertips, spreading throughout his body, building until Elladan was nearly nauseous with it. With a sickening, grinding noise, the broken piece of rib moved, and he gasped…and then all turned to black.
“Is he all right, Adar?” Legolas asked anxiously. He trusted Elrond implicitly, but this was his mate, and he had a hard time trying to control his panic when Elladan fell unconscious.
“He will be now, my son,” Elrond answered. “All is well. He will awake again in a few minutes and be able to breathe more easily.” The healer began to smooth a salve over Elladan’s chest to speed the healing of the bruises. “We will bind his chest again, but not as tightly as before. He should stay in bed for the rest of the day, but tomorrow he can get up. He will continue to heal for some time yet. His body will let him know if he does too much, but you know how stubborn he is. You will need to keep an eye on him and make sure he rests.”
Legolas nodded. “He tries to fool me often, but he cannot.”
“I fear you must delay resuming your marital relations a little longer,” Elrond said. He was well aware that Elladan and Legolas had a healthy and sometimes loud love life, recalling the times he had inadvertently passed by and heard them. “It is not safe for him yet, aside from the fact that it would cause him pain. Will you wait until I tell you it is all right?”
“I could never do anything to hurt him,” Legolas said with a nod. “We will wait until you say.” As hard as it would be, there was no question that Legolas would ensure they waited until Elladan was healed.
Elrond and Legolas bound Elladan’s chest again and clothed him in a comfortable nightshirt. The injured Elf had not yet awoken, and so they waited, Elrond in a chair beside the bed, and Legolas sitting on the bed beside his husband.
Elrond picked up the walking stick Elladan had used, weighing it in his hands. “This is a beautiful piece of craftsmanship,” he said quietly. “Did you make it for him?”
“Not I,” Legolas answered. “That is friend Gimli’s work.”
“Is it indeed?” Elrond said, surprised. He did not realize that the Dwarf possessed such skill with wood as well as stone. “I wonder if he would be willing to do some carving for us. There is always furniture and other things to be made or repaired.”
“What is it like here, Adar?” Legolas asked.
“Much as it was in Middle-earth, but without war and evil things,” Elrond responded with a smile. “The Valar do not meddle in our daily lives. To do so would take away our free will, and that is not their purpose. They interfere only when there is serious judgment to be passed. As always, there is much to do, and many people to feed and care for.”
“I do not know what I expected, but I did not expect...that,” Legolas said, amazed. “I don’t know…perhaps I thought the Valar would just take care of everything.”
“No, nothing like that,” Elrond said with a smile. “Once Elladan is well, you will both need to decide what you wish to do with yourselves, at least for a time. But you may take your time to decide, and you may always change your mind later and choose something else. Although we still train warriors should they ever be needed again, Elrohir has already decided to put away his weapons and work with the scribes and librarians. It is something he has always enjoyed, and he wants to spend time with his mother and, I suspect, with Melpomaen.”
“There is a need for warriors here?” Legolas asked, now completely confused. “I thought you said there was no war? Do they do battle with the seagulls?”
Elrond chuckled softly. “Evil entered this land once before, and we will be ready to defend it if it happens again. This is not the end of life, Legolas, merely life in a more peaceful place. The same problems over relationships, petty squabbles, and hurts exist here. Elves court and marry and raise their children in peace; they learn, work, produce food, make things, and even manage to continue to injure themselves by careless accidents or mishap. Valinor is not without pain – it is merely without the pain of war and strife.”
“There is a need for teachers then? For the young?” Legolas asked, intrigued.
Elrond nodded. “Learning and skilled crafts flourish here, and well as art and the making of things of beauty. Think of all of the many tasks it takes for a community to thrive. My robes, for example,” he said, fingering the fabric. “It took someone to grow the flax, spin the thread, weave the thread into linen, and sew the garment. Break each object down into what is required for its making, and each of those trades exist here. There is no trading with the Men of Lake Town for wine, Legolas,” he said, smiling, knowing of Legolas’ fondness for the drink. “We make our own.”
“So I could tend the vines, or crush the grapes, or simply be a wine-taster,” the Sindar Elf said with a grin. “But how do our people live here? What order is there to their lives?”
“Elves from each of the different realms throughout our history tend to settle together as they did on Middle-earth, with the same leaders and same customs, although they are free to join another group or live alone, just as they please. But there is no competition or struggle between the different peoples, or realms…or houses…or whatever you want to refer to them as. That is simply not allowed or tolerated. I do not know what would happen if there were, but I suspect that Manwë would have no compunction in ordering the offenders shipped back to Middle-earth as punishment. Send them to Mordor, mayhap.” He grinned. “We tend to refer to the different groups by the name of their leader. The Elves of Imladris are simply called ‘Elrond’s House’. The Elves of the Woodland Realm are called ‘Oropher’s House’.”
“Are all of our people who passed before here then? Have they all been re-embodied?”
“Not all. Those who caused great harm – Maeglin, for instance – are not among us, nor are many of the Kinslayers. We do not know their fate, and it is not spoken of,” Elrond answered.
“Is there exchange between the different houses then?” Legolas asked.
“There is trade among the different groups, and goods of the best quality are usually readily available, since there is time now for developing the finest of skills. Our families are so interwoven throughout all of our history that there is much love and fellowship among the different houses. Thranduil has not yet decided with which house he will settle and make his home – with his father, his friend Celeborn, or here - mainly because of you. That is why he was residing with Celeborn since they arrived here. Our families are now intertwined, and it is my hope that you and your father will stay here with us in this home, instead of building your own.”
Legolas sat and silently contemplated all that Elrond had said, but unbeknownst to both of them Elladan had awoken and heard most of it.
“I wish to be a healer, Ada,” Elladan said softly. “Just a healer. And I want us – Legolas and I – to live here with you, if he will consent to it.”
Legolas smiled and leaned over to place a kiss on Elladan’s head. “Then we will, and we will just have to convince my father to stay here too. I am not certain yet what I am called to do, but I suspect we will work it out in time.”
Elrond bent over Elladan and smiled. “Are you feeling better now? Breathing easier?”
“I am, thank you Ada,” Elladan said. “But are you not exhausted from using your healing energy on me?”
“No, not at all,” Elrond replied. “I feel wonderful, in fact. You will find that it is one of the blessings of Valinor. Our spirits are not weighed down by the burdens of Arda here. You will heal faster here for the same reason. I expect you to be fully healed before a month has passed, as long as I continue to share my healing energy with you daily.”
~~~*~~~
A strangely subdued and quiet Gimli was escorted back to the house late in the day. After being warmly welcomed by the Elves, he joined Legolas and Elladan in their rooms for a while before the dinner hour.
“What was it like, Gimli?” Legolas asked. “Where you were taken? What was Aulë like?”
The Dwarf puffed on his pipe and looked at Legolas for a long moment before he finally said, “I have no words to describe the beauty of his halls, or of Aulë himself. I sat in his presence, and we talked. He asked me many questions about the Dwarves and we…talked.” He fell silent.
“Was he kind, Gimli?” Elladan asked. “He told you that you were welcome here?”
“Oh yes,” Gimli replied, although it was easy to tell his mind was still partly back with Aulë in the Vala’s halls. “He was very kind. To be in his presence was extraordinary, and yet he made me feel comfortable. He asked me about the Fellowship and our quest. We spoke of many things. He told me that I was welcome here, not just because I was a member of the Fellowship, or because he thought I could bring new skills in working stone here, but because now each of the races is represented here: Elf, Man, Hobbit and Dwarf. Tuor is here, you know – Elrond’s grandfather. Aulë told me he is the only Man ever to be allowed into the Blessed Realm. And we have all been granted the same span of life as Elves. I find that hard to accept. I cannot quite imagine…”
“Give it time, Gimli.” Legolas nodded in understanding. “Did you see Lady Galadriel?” he asked.
Gimli’s face glowed. “I did.” He removed a piece of cloth from his tunic and carefully unfolded it. “She asked if I still had her hair, and when I told her I left it with my people, where it is reverenced, she gave me this.” On the cloth lay a lock of golden hair.
Tbc...
Author: Aglarien
Type: FPS
Characters: Elladan/Legolas
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Not mine. The great Master Tolkien's estate owns everything else. I promise to return his elves when I'm done playing with them.
Warnings: AU.
Beta: Jay of Lasgalen. All remaining mistakes are mine alone.
Summary: Written for the Ardor in August fic exchange. Elladan and Legolas finally sail and find joy in Valinor.
Request: Pairing: Elladan/Legolas. Plot: Resolved angst, established relationship in Valinor. Happy ending, please.
That best portion of a good man's life, his little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and of love. ~William Wordsworth (1770-1850)
Chapter 5
Elrond moved his hands gently over Elladan’s chest as his son lay in the bed, frowning at the mottled portrait of pain represented by dark red blotches, vivid purple smudges, and a spattering of putrid yellow. “One of the ribs is broken,” he said quietly, “and is pressing against your lungs, causing fresh bruising. It is well that you are strong. You have borne this injury far too long, my son.”
“I thought they were just cracked,” Elladan replied, his hand clutching Legolas’. Only the three of them were in the room, Elrond having asked the others to leave while he saw to Elladan’s injuries.
“It is nearly impossible for a healer to tell his own injuries, Elladan, especially when pain clouds the vision. But there is nothing you could have done: a healer cannot heal himself,” Elrond responded.
Elladan nodded and watched as his father focused his healing energy, sending it into his tormented chest. Heat flowed from the Master Healer’s fingertips, spreading throughout his body, building until Elladan was nearly nauseous with it. With a sickening, grinding noise, the broken piece of rib moved, and he gasped…and then all turned to black.
“Is he all right, Adar?” Legolas asked anxiously. He trusted Elrond implicitly, but this was his mate, and he had a hard time trying to control his panic when Elladan fell unconscious.
“He will be now, my son,” Elrond answered. “All is well. He will awake again in a few minutes and be able to breathe more easily.” The healer began to smooth a salve over Elladan’s chest to speed the healing of the bruises. “We will bind his chest again, but not as tightly as before. He should stay in bed for the rest of the day, but tomorrow he can get up. He will continue to heal for some time yet. His body will let him know if he does too much, but you know how stubborn he is. You will need to keep an eye on him and make sure he rests.”
Legolas nodded. “He tries to fool me often, but he cannot.”
“I fear you must delay resuming your marital relations a little longer,” Elrond said. He was well aware that Elladan and Legolas had a healthy and sometimes loud love life, recalling the times he had inadvertently passed by and heard them. “It is not safe for him yet, aside from the fact that it would cause him pain. Will you wait until I tell you it is all right?”
“I could never do anything to hurt him,” Legolas said with a nod. “We will wait until you say.” As hard as it would be, there was no question that Legolas would ensure they waited until Elladan was healed.
Elrond and Legolas bound Elladan’s chest again and clothed him in a comfortable nightshirt. The injured Elf had not yet awoken, and so they waited, Elrond in a chair beside the bed, and Legolas sitting on the bed beside his husband.
Elrond picked up the walking stick Elladan had used, weighing it in his hands. “This is a beautiful piece of craftsmanship,” he said quietly. “Did you make it for him?”
“Not I,” Legolas answered. “That is friend Gimli’s work.”
“Is it indeed?” Elrond said, surprised. He did not realize that the Dwarf possessed such skill with wood as well as stone. “I wonder if he would be willing to do some carving for us. There is always furniture and other things to be made or repaired.”
“What is it like here, Adar?” Legolas asked.
“Much as it was in Middle-earth, but without war and evil things,” Elrond responded with a smile. “The Valar do not meddle in our daily lives. To do so would take away our free will, and that is not their purpose. They interfere only when there is serious judgment to be passed. As always, there is much to do, and many people to feed and care for.”
“I do not know what I expected, but I did not expect...that,” Legolas said, amazed. “I don’t know…perhaps I thought the Valar would just take care of everything.”
“No, nothing like that,” Elrond said with a smile. “Once Elladan is well, you will both need to decide what you wish to do with yourselves, at least for a time. But you may take your time to decide, and you may always change your mind later and choose something else. Although we still train warriors should they ever be needed again, Elrohir has already decided to put away his weapons and work with the scribes and librarians. It is something he has always enjoyed, and he wants to spend time with his mother and, I suspect, with Melpomaen.”
“There is a need for warriors here?” Legolas asked, now completely confused. “I thought you said there was no war? Do they do battle with the seagulls?”
Elrond chuckled softly. “Evil entered this land once before, and we will be ready to defend it if it happens again. This is not the end of life, Legolas, merely life in a more peaceful place. The same problems over relationships, petty squabbles, and hurts exist here. Elves court and marry and raise their children in peace; they learn, work, produce food, make things, and even manage to continue to injure themselves by careless accidents or mishap. Valinor is not without pain – it is merely without the pain of war and strife.”
“There is a need for teachers then? For the young?” Legolas asked, intrigued.
Elrond nodded. “Learning and skilled crafts flourish here, and well as art and the making of things of beauty. Think of all of the many tasks it takes for a community to thrive. My robes, for example,” he said, fingering the fabric. “It took someone to grow the flax, spin the thread, weave the thread into linen, and sew the garment. Break each object down into what is required for its making, and each of those trades exist here. There is no trading with the Men of Lake Town for wine, Legolas,” he said, smiling, knowing of Legolas’ fondness for the drink. “We make our own.”
“So I could tend the vines, or crush the grapes, or simply be a wine-taster,” the Sindar Elf said with a grin. “But how do our people live here? What order is there to their lives?”
“Elves from each of the different realms throughout our history tend to settle together as they did on Middle-earth, with the same leaders and same customs, although they are free to join another group or live alone, just as they please. But there is no competition or struggle between the different peoples, or realms…or houses…or whatever you want to refer to them as. That is simply not allowed or tolerated. I do not know what would happen if there were, but I suspect that Manwë would have no compunction in ordering the offenders shipped back to Middle-earth as punishment. Send them to Mordor, mayhap.” He grinned. “We tend to refer to the different groups by the name of their leader. The Elves of Imladris are simply called ‘Elrond’s House’. The Elves of the Woodland Realm are called ‘Oropher’s House’.”
“Are all of our people who passed before here then? Have they all been re-embodied?”
“Not all. Those who caused great harm – Maeglin, for instance – are not among us, nor are many of the Kinslayers. We do not know their fate, and it is not spoken of,” Elrond answered.
“Is there exchange between the different houses then?” Legolas asked.
“There is trade among the different groups, and goods of the best quality are usually readily available, since there is time now for developing the finest of skills. Our families are so interwoven throughout all of our history that there is much love and fellowship among the different houses. Thranduil has not yet decided with which house he will settle and make his home – with his father, his friend Celeborn, or here - mainly because of you. That is why he was residing with Celeborn since they arrived here. Our families are now intertwined, and it is my hope that you and your father will stay here with us in this home, instead of building your own.”
Legolas sat and silently contemplated all that Elrond had said, but unbeknownst to both of them Elladan had awoken and heard most of it.
“I wish to be a healer, Ada,” Elladan said softly. “Just a healer. And I want us – Legolas and I – to live here with you, if he will consent to it.”
Legolas smiled and leaned over to place a kiss on Elladan’s head. “Then we will, and we will just have to convince my father to stay here too. I am not certain yet what I am called to do, but I suspect we will work it out in time.”
Elrond bent over Elladan and smiled. “Are you feeling better now? Breathing easier?”
“I am, thank you Ada,” Elladan said. “But are you not exhausted from using your healing energy on me?”
“No, not at all,” Elrond replied. “I feel wonderful, in fact. You will find that it is one of the blessings of Valinor. Our spirits are not weighed down by the burdens of Arda here. You will heal faster here for the same reason. I expect you to be fully healed before a month has passed, as long as I continue to share my healing energy with you daily.”
~~~*~~~
A strangely subdued and quiet Gimli was escorted back to the house late in the day. After being warmly welcomed by the Elves, he joined Legolas and Elladan in their rooms for a while before the dinner hour.
“What was it like, Gimli?” Legolas asked. “Where you were taken? What was Aulë like?”
The Dwarf puffed on his pipe and looked at Legolas for a long moment before he finally said, “I have no words to describe the beauty of his halls, or of Aulë himself. I sat in his presence, and we talked. He asked me many questions about the Dwarves and we…talked.” He fell silent.
“Was he kind, Gimli?” Elladan asked. “He told you that you were welcome here?”
“Oh yes,” Gimli replied, although it was easy to tell his mind was still partly back with Aulë in the Vala’s halls. “He was very kind. To be in his presence was extraordinary, and yet he made me feel comfortable. He asked me about the Fellowship and our quest. We spoke of many things. He told me that I was welcome here, not just because I was a member of the Fellowship, or because he thought I could bring new skills in working stone here, but because now each of the races is represented here: Elf, Man, Hobbit and Dwarf. Tuor is here, you know – Elrond’s grandfather. Aulë told me he is the only Man ever to be allowed into the Blessed Realm. And we have all been granted the same span of life as Elves. I find that hard to accept. I cannot quite imagine…”
“Give it time, Gimli.” Legolas nodded in understanding. “Did you see Lady Galadriel?” he asked.
Gimli’s face glowed. “I did.” He removed a piece of cloth from his tunic and carefully unfolded it. “She asked if I still had her hair, and when I told her I left it with my people, where it is reverenced, she gave me this.” On the cloth lay a lock of golden hair.
Tbc...