Greenleaf & Imladris 14 - Crucible of Love

Epilogue

Elrond watched as his sons and Legolas entertained Estel in the gardens. Elrohir was flat on his back with Estel straddling him and they were mock wrestling with the Elf-knight pretending to be overwhelmed. Elladan and Legolas watched with mirth, calling encouragement to the child. Elrond smiled with gladness.



He saw Elladan pick up Estel and Legolas reach out his hand to help Elrohir to his feet. The prince pulled his friend up but inadvertently put more force into the motion than was needed which brought Elrohir up close to him. For a few seconds the two of them stood eye to eye. And then they drew apart and turned back to Elladan who was fussing with little Estel.



Elrond drew in his breath. There could be no mistaking what had passed between the two Elves in that briefest of contacts. Master Elrond knew it all too well. It was the look of people who had recently shared the greatest intimacy possible between two beings.



He considered the two more keenly. He had not been surprised about Elrohir’s feelings. When an Elf’s nature chose to exert its pull upon one there was virtually no resisting it. Whatever his son’s eventual choices in life, the Lord of Rivendell would be there to guide or support him as the need may be. But he was surprised regarding Legolas. He had not expected the woodland prince to continue intimacy with his son beyond that Mirkwood week.



Thranduil was wary of the old ways, would be hesitant to accept in his own children what his people had come to regard as a gratuitous practice from the ancient past. It was improbable that the Elvenking did not know of the relationship between his favorite child and Elrond’s younger son. That he had not forbidden it, had in fact suffered it within his halls, was a remarkable departure from his typical dislike of what was outside the traditions of his realm. Elrond wondered how Legolas had blunted his father’s disapproval. And how in Arda did the young prince cope with answering Elrohir’s need?



He does it out of friendship even if it means going above and beyond what is normally expected of friendship, Elrond deduced. He does it because he cherishes what he and Elrohir share. My son is very fortunate to have inspired such loyalty and devotion. The Loremaster wondered though where it would lead.



“It seems they are friends again,” he heard Erestor say at his shoulder. The counsellor had quietly joined him on the porch.



“Yes, much to my relief. ‘Tis good to hear their laughter once more.”



“Did you ever discover what caused the rift?”



Elrond shook his head. Actually he now had a good idea what their quarrel had been all about but he was not about to speak of such intimate matters even to one he trusted as much as he did his chief steward. There were some things that had to be kept within the family.



He sighed in resignation. Even in matters of love and friendship it seemed his sons managed to outdo themselves. They never did do anything by halves. Ah well, he thought with some humor, ‘tis better than mischief and mayhem. Mayhap Imladris will survive this age after all.



He and Erestor turned to go into the house. A loud crash and shouts of dismay reached them, however, and they hurried back to see what had happened. A ludicrous sight greeted their eyes.



Estel had gotten away from Elladan and had managed to push a garden urn over, spilling out its contents, which in this case was much earth and pebbles. Not content with that he had proceeded to play with the soil and, when his three guardians tried to deter him, promptly wiped his grubby little hands on their clothes and faces. They looked far from happy.



Elrond sighed. Then again maybe not.



The End