Elrond sighed in utter contentment, relishing the sensation of running the tips of his fingers over the slender elegance of the sylvan elf beside him. Legolas lay stretched out on the down filled mattress, completely at ease and relaxed, radiating a serene peace and fulfilment the Elven Lord had never observed in him before. Trust and love were there as well and Elrond's soul eagerly absorbed both, drawing on the strength of such powerful gifts so freely given while matching the outpouring with the same energetic delight. It was a unique experience, for though Elrond had enjoyed this inundation of ardent affection and absolute acceptance he had not reciprocated to the same degree. Always he had restrained his heart's surge of elation, convincing himself it was nothing more than the thrill of physical release, denying the depth of his joy.
"No longer," he whispered and smiled at the questioning look in Legolas' eyes. "I was in the habit of fighting against the real devotion I feel toward you. I will not be doing that any more, Aearen."
"Yet I am still your ocean?" Legolas teased, grinning in devilish amusement for he knew Elrond thought he didn't understand the allusion to the curse of the Teleri tribe. He had asked, the first time the pet name was spoken, and for answer was told something that was not the truth and yet was neither a lie. 'I call you that because you are as fascinating and untamed as the unending expanse of the Encircling Sea,' Elrond had said. Legolas had understood what his mate could not yet perceive: both meanings, revealed and concealed, were true. The rather abashed expression now reorganising the noble Elf's proud features made the Wood Elf giggle.
"I intend to keep you at my mercy, too; tossed and buffeted by the turbulent storm of those long-repressed emotions; lured, captured, and enthralled by the Siren Song of the sylvans. You'll be helpless to predict from one day to the next whether this mysterious sea will be calm and the current favourable or wild, drawing you away over uncharted waters. I can, however, promise that the journey will be a most wondrous one." Legolas reached up and felt the contours of the stern and ancient face he had so come to love. Elrond didn't look so formidable now. The tension around his lips and eyes had vanished; his mask of guarded dignity was gone. There was no distance between them.
"I've been a fool," Elrond confessed and turned his head to kiss the palm pressed lightly against his cheek. He smiled over those sensitive fingers and gripped them tightly with his own, pleased to encounter shining eyes filled with compassion and gratitude. So much better to see that than the distrust and betrayal harboured there before. He sighed and let his gaze roam over the supine figure, focusing on the firm, bare naval beneath which a tiny new life glimmered. "How wrong I was! My love for you is no sickness. My passion, my source of strength," he bent and kissed the flat belly, "my purpose, yes, all of that and more. Tell me again that you will stay, Legolas."
"I will stay, Nín'ódhel."
As he heard this declaration, Elrond realised there was more than one meaning in his lover's endearment, too. Legolas had always known the truth even when he hadn't permitted himself this insight. He had fought against their unorthodox union, yet as soon as he'd given in it had seemed right. Elrond had welcomed Legolas' torn and fragile faer crowding close to his, drawing on his strength, intertwining so tightly that their two souls were warp and weft of a single fabric. Even so, he would deny his mate and love had never been factored into the Lore-master's evaluation of the unique situation. That Legolas had discovered Elrond's deeply hidden love was astounding. That he had quietly, patiently tended and encouraged it with his own stole away Elrond's breath. He pillowed his head upon the lithe form, grateful beyond words, clutching desperately to the young elf so wise in the ways of the heart.
"Elrond? I meant those words; I won't leave you." Legolas held on just as tight, disturbed by the sudden silence.
"All is well, beloved, I just can't get over how amazing you are," Elrond murmured, rocking to soothe away Legolas' worry. A light caress over his head stilled him and he sighed. "Lindir was right; little do I deserve such love."
"Nay, he was wrong but it isn't his fault. Lindir's vision is altered for he views everything from a very long distance away. He is so removed from everything, surrounded by his music so he does not have to acknowledge any other Song; I worry for him. Is there no one to whom he is all the world?"
Elrond lifted his face to stare at his lover, too nonplussed to be able to respond. What Legolas said was so and yet the renowned healer had accepted the minstrel's perpetual loneliness as his normal state, too used to Lindir's solitary life to find it a cause for concern.
"Nay, his heart was claimed long ago in his youth and I don't think there has ever been anyone else." It shocked Elrond to make this statement for the Ages of time gone into history since then were staggering.
"It is because he thinks as you do, or rather you have learned to think as he does. He doesn't believe he is worthy of love and has earned this fate of isolation and eternal bereavement."
"How do you know all this? I am completely embarrassed for was I not expounding about being older and wiser just last night? You shame me, Legolas," Elrond fussed in mild irritation, though he was genuinely worried about his beloved mentor. Lindir was like a father to him in many ways and yet in others was more his brother, and still found means to act as the Elven Lord's friend and confidant.
"Pah! Maybe I am a re-born soul who just hasn't remembered everything yet. I'm still young; there's plenty of time to discover who I am, really," the Wood Elf smiled a secretive, knowing smile and graced his lover with another placating pat upon the head. Then he became serious again. "You will try to help Lindir, won't you?"
"Aye, I love him dearly. He gives so much joy to others and does not permit his sorrow to afflict anyone in his vicinity. We must find a way to turn his eyes from the past," Elrond nodded as he spoke, considering what means he might employ to do this, for Lindir was very good at hiding away his injuries and concealing his broken heart. Elrond glanced back at Legolas and smiled. "I would have him know bliss such as I feel right now."
"Tomorrow is Ened Ethuil and that is a good place to start. We must pair him up with someone for the celebration; do not let him separate himself among the musicians. He must dance at the bonfire and let that youth he was live again."
Elrond had to laugh at his mate's match-making mien but thinking of the festival brought other ideas to mind. His gaze took on a more visceral cast and he shifted up onto an elbow in order to resume his appreciative inspection of the lean form reclining beside him. Slowly he let his touch explore, stroking silken skin tanned a creamy golden hue that immediately made him wonder how often his Wood Elf was wont to cavort about among the trees in only nature's garments. The image was highly appealing and made his smile grow larger.
He traced the sharp line of the clavicle and up the slender neck, pausing to circle the deep maroon oval where he'd left a love bite sometime during the night. That made Legolas sigh and their eyes met, smiles of equal satisfaction and amazement shared between cool, collected grey and clear, exuberant azure. When Elrond's gaze moved lower and encountered parted lips, just a hint of ivory teeth behind them, he bent at once to sample the inviting orifice, drawn as surely as a loadstone to iron.
It was not a kiss of passion and desire but more of familiar endearment and contented harmony, for the hours of the night had all been spent in love-making and the lovers were more than spent in turn. What remained was this lazy, languid, luxurious glow; a fire surely but one that burned between them with steady, even flames, warming their souls and promising to flare to bright white heat whenever they wished. There was no need to hasten the moment for the bond between them ensured that lovely spark would remain forever kindled.
"You wouldn't believe how happy I am right now," Elrond said quietly and the light suffusing his countenance matched the gentle, tender expression that transformed Legolas' features.
"Surely I would, for I feel exactly the same," replied the Wood Elf. He inhaled deeply, filing his lungs with the scent of his mate, letting his eyelids drift to half-mast as the soft, pliant pads of the healer's fingertips waltzed slowly down his breastbone.
Elrond trailed his touch around the supple, sculpted curve of the archer's pectoral muscles, tight and hard beneath the pliant apricot skin, and could not resist traipsing up the small rise to trip lightly over the points of rosy flesh there. He swooped in and kissed them, first one tiny nipple and then the other, and then a thought occurred to him and he straightened a bit. His fingers pressed and palpated the muscle as his healer's curiosity could not be restrained, seeking to learn whether his mate would be able to nurture their youngling when he was born. A snickery giggle diverted his attention back to the grinning countenance of the woodland warrior and Elrond's sheepish smile was partnered with a half-shrug.
"How can I help myself?" he defended his actions. "You are the most uniquely fascinating Elf I know. I can safely assume your body will adapt to the infant's needs, then?"
"Aye, when the time is near. It is much too soon to notice any change." Legolas wriggled beside him as much in delight as to get closer to his love, obviously pleased by this description. "I'm hardly unique among my kind," he added, letting his hand wander to the dark hair cascading down across his midriff. Elrond's black locks were thick and cool within his grasp. "Although, not so many males are born with the gift to bear young as once before. Even among those so blessed, few choose to become life-givers. For that matter, not so many females seek to create offspring these days. More and more of my people are leaving the forest, fearful of the encroaching Darkness. That is why I am here now."
At this the Elven Lord's interest sharpened, for Legolas referenced a story he had never told before. Indeed, the sylvan spoke little about his life before coming to Imladris and Elrond was eager to encourage such revelations. At the same time, he could not suppress a small prickling of fear from invading his peaceful mood, for the threat of grief was ever-present in Legolas' soul and any mention of his brother could bring it out.
"Tell me. You were not the one leaving, were you?"
"Nay." Legolas paused and his sight retreated from Elrond's for a moment as he watched the memories replay. "We were bound for the Havens, that's true, not as an escort but to negotiate with Cirdan. A rather large group wished to migrate and Aran Thranduil felt it best to send a delegation ahead to prepare the way. We were charged to make contact with the mortal folk also, so that none would be fearful of such a sizeable incursion of armed Elves upon their lands. We are peaceful people with those who are peaceful to us and have no wish for a misunderstanding to provoke conflict."
"That is a wise policy," Elrond nodded, for the fearsome reputation of the Wood Elves might indeed lead to an erroneous conclusion should a great number of them suddenly encroach upon the various human holdings of Eriador. "You and your brother must be highly favoured to have been chosen for such an important task."
"Galbreth is…was, but I…" Legolas' voice faltered and his brow creased as his features contracted into an expression of sorrow and regret. He clamped his lips tightly and abruptly turned, huddling up against Elrond's chest and hiding his face against the elder elf's neck. Legolas shivered and exhaled a heavy sigh that gusted across the healer's bare shoulder.
"Ai!" Elrond exclaimed and wrapped his whole body around his mate in a tight embrace. "Nay, Legolas, I know you take responsibility for the death of your brother, but only in your mind is this a rational notion. There is nothing you could have done to prevent the tragedy; that region has long been known as a perilous one."
"I was the one who wished to stop there. I was trying to convince Galbreth to make a side trip to Imladris, for I wanted to see the Hidden Valley. Much had been told of the beauty of this place, for my Naneth was born here and dwelt among the Noldor a short time as a young maid. Though she was but five summers old when her family returned to Greenwood, she recalled much and loved to tell me of her childhood memories."
The Lord of Imladris was amazed, though he didn't know why he should be. After the defeat of Sauron at Dagorlad, those Wood Elves too badly injured to make the trek over Hithaeglir had been carried in litters to the haven of Rivendell. There they had remained until their strength and vigour returned, and many a 'battlefield bonding' resulted in the birth of offspring the second year after the injured Elf was recovered. With female warriors as common as their male counterparts, Elrond had never imagined any of the elflings were birthed from masculine bodies.
The small group had not remained among the cities of stone houses and paved streets, but had begged leave to occupy the tangled woodlands in the northernmost corner of the enchanted realm. This had been granted and few of the valley's citizens ever encountered the sylvans. The Wood Elves proved to be entirely self-sufficient, hunting for food and manufacturing their own clothing, never venturing into the Noldorin community to barter or trade. Should anyone try to visit them on the forested slopes, not that anyone did, no sign of them would be seen. What dwellings they made must have been much smaller than those elaborate talans of the Galadhrim and well concealed among the branches. If not for the occasional wisp of smoke from their cooking fires and the faint sound of their fair voices carried on the breeze, it would have been impossible to know the sylvans were in the valley.
"Aye, I remember this. None of them stayed more than a few seasons and it seemed five or six years was the set period: enough time for an elfling to be able to ride well and, in the case of the Wood Elves, wield a dagger with deadly skill," Elrond said. One spring, the designated leader of this band appeared in Erestor's office, presented an impressive collection of sylvan war bows, and with thanks and pledges of eternal friendship for the people of Imladris, informed the seneschal that they were leaving. In all the thousands of years since, not a single Wood Elf had come back.
Elrond felt a pang of regret; his pointless prejudice had kept him from gaining knowledge of sylvan ways that would be invaluable to him now. It crossed his mind to wonder if Legolas' naneth was born of a male and that made him realise with a shock that Legolas might himself be the product of such a union. Another shudder, too close to a repressed sob for the healer's taste, jarred Legolas' frame and drove the idle musing from Elrond's thoughts. He frowned in concern as he rubbed the archer's tense shoulders. This unreasonable guilt was deeply embedded in Legolas' soul, anchored there by the trauma and terror of the battle, compounded by the grief and desolation of his brother's death, enhanced by the poison that had so stubbornly resisted erradication.
"The blame you assign yourself is unjust," he began carefully. "It would have made no difference whether you camped upon the hill or down in the broad plain below. That place is enchanted in some evil magic we have not been able to counter, even with Mithrandir's aid. How else would the Orcs have over taken your warriors by surprise?"
"No." Legolas raised his head and gazed from tear bright eyes into his mate's. "I need you to understand it correctly. We would not have even been close to that region at all but for me. I was stubborn and childish; I told Galbreth that I would go to Imladris whether the troop accompanied me or not. I left and they had no choice but to come after me."
Now Elrond sighed deeply, gently cupping the sylvan's chin and studying the youthful face before him, realising anew just how little experience in life this Elf possessed. It was easy to see what Legolas needed; his entire visage radiated confusion and a desperate hope, a silent pleading for his statement to be countered. Yet this crisis could not be so easily averted for there was no noble cause to allude to, no comrades left to console or comfort him. He had wished to visit the land where his naneth was born and his obstinate adherence to this whim had resulted in the death of his brother and all the soldiers in the herth. So it was, an unbreakable link between what he had done and the needless waste of immortal life. His eyes searched Elrond's, seeking a reason for it that he could live with, one that neither dismissed nor glossed over the truth but answered and acknowledged it honestly. Legolas needed to be forgiven so that he might finally forgive himself.
"I will not refute what you have said; your failure to obey orders was indeed foolish and put everyone in your party at risk," Elrond told him seriously and had to grip a little tighter to keep the sylvan's head from dropping low in shame. "Nay! Listen to me now and heed me well. You cannot undo this. For whatever reason, this terrible thing has happened. I can't lift the burden from you but I am here to help you bear it. Among all the Elves with you, you were meant to live on, for were you not brought under my care? Were you not given to me as my mate? Indeed, now we have a child to bring into being and raise to maturity. You must stop brooding over your errors and do what you can to compensate for them."
"How? How can I amend such horrible wrongs?"
"All the evil that happened that day does not lie at your feet. Most of it is for Sauron to answer, as someday he surely shall. He created that vile magic and enhanced the fighting skills of the Orcs hiding behind it. If not for that your people would never have lost their lives."
"Aye, but if we hadn't gone there then…"
"You did go there; that can't be changed now. Didn't you listen earlier? Your mistake was a small one but it was seized upon and magnified by the Darkness. Such is the way of evil, for then not only are the dead lost to us but the survivors are damaged almost beyond repair also. Ai, Legolas, it has been more than ten years and today is the first you have ever spoken to anyone about this. Glad I am for it, too, since it tells me you are ready to face it. You want to live and not in denial or pretence that this is some sort of dream, that your brother is still alive somewhere under Greenwood's protective canopy."
The rigid body in Elrond's arms startled and the wide, blue eyes peering at him revealed that this was exactly how Legolas had been getting through day by day. Elrond smiled gently and leaned to kiss his lover's forehead, drawing him close again to hold against his heart.
"Aye, I have lived a long time and have seen that before, young one. Indeed, I have used the same tactic to survive. For long centuries after my parents left Middle-earth, my brother and I pretended that we were only sleeping, that we had suffered injuries during the fighting at Sirion and Estë made Lorien keep us locked in dreams until we healed. It isn't really so far from the truth, in many ways. But you have awakened now, Legolas. Now you must choose how you will spend your years and there are only two options.
"You can make your life a monument to evil, grieving forever for the loss of Galbreth and your comrades, blaming yourself, punishing yourself, refusing to accept the grace and forgiveness of the Valar. Surely they must have granted it, for they have showered you with blessings. Here you are in the arms of the noble, the mighty, the esteemed Elrond Half-elven, Lord of Imladris. Are you not fortunate?" Now Elrond meant that last part as a jest and was rewarded with a mild sort of scoffing snort that made him smile.
"The other choice is the one I believe you've already made. You will live as a testament to the glory of Eru's design, playing out your part in the Music he created, showing by your actions how even the most sombre themes can become transformed into that which is noble and honourable, beautiful and worthy of praise. I will help you in this; it will be my greatest joy to do so. Have you not already said our child shall become Galbreth's vessel should the Valar ordain it? What greater recompense can you make for a life lost than to offer in its place another, even more precious to your heart?"
Elrond meant those words sincerely for who was he to place limits on the Powers? If an Elf could be re-born, a fact he could not refute in light of Glorfindel's avowal of reincarnation, and a male sylvan Elf could bear offspring, for which he now also had indisputable evidence, then a faer could surely be housed in the body of a child so conceived. He was content to love his hybrid elfling, regardless the source of its eternal spark.
Then Legolas stirred and drew back so he could look upon his beloved Noldorin prince. His eyes were wet from the tears these words had brought forth but he was not overwhelmed in gloom and misery as he had been only hours before. Every syllable Elrond had uttered poured like a balm upon his wounded spirit and he knew the truth of them in the healing that had already begun.
"You do not despise me," he stated calmly and placed a finger quickly over lips that parted to reinforce that notion. "Instead you have come to love me and this is what has made it possible to believe the things you have spoken. I will not spurn the gift of forgiveness nor squander the chance to lessen the tragedy of Galbreth's untimely death. I needed only to hear it from your lips; now I am ready."
This caused a huge grin to break out on Elrond's features and he whooped in a most undignified manner as he swooped in and smothered his Wood Elf with adoring kisses. He planted his eager lips everywhere and at the same time let his hands roam over the squirming figure beneath him, seeking for every tender spot and tickling mercilessly, delighting in the peals of giddy laughter erupting from Legolas. When Elrond's face hovered over the abdomen, the muscles all contracted with uncontrollable giggling, the Elven Lord bent to sputter a sloppy raspberry there when abruptly a loud and protracted rumble issued from the underlying stomach. He sat back, surprised, met the archer's chagrined and blushing countenance, and burst out laughing as he collected Legolas into his arms.
"It isn't funny," complained the embarrassed Elf, struggling to push his lover off. "Aragorn says I haven't been eating properly and it isn't healthy for the babe."
That sobered Elrond up immediately and he sat up, eyeing Legolas critically from head to toe with his healer's insight.
"He's right. When did you last eat? You missed every meal yesterday and touched nothing of the feast the night before. Erestor said he saw you sneaking an apple from the kitchens before then but that…"
"I was not sneaking! I have permission; Meribel likes the little soapstone charms I make and lets me take whatever I wish in exchange."
Elrond's brows rose in surprise; he'd noticed the array of small sculptures proudly displayed on a shelf amid the cook's recipe books but would never have guessed either their source or their significance. "Nevertheless, a piece of fruit or two every few days is not sufficient nourishment," he scolded.
"Nay, I did eat yesterday. Aragorn gave me way bread and then I went hunting. Elrond, I ate an entire rabbit! Oh, not the bones or fur, of course, or the entrails, I buried that, but all the rest of it." Legolas stopped, noting the hint of aversion, which Elrond was trying so very hard to conceal, suffusing the noble elder's eyes. In spite of himself, he had to smile as the struggle between ingrained customs and social norms contended against the resolve to be open-minded. He waited patiently to see how it would play out.
For his part, Elrond could not prevent his mind from ticking off the facts: he hadn't noticed any sign of a cooking-fire during the long hours of searching, he knew Legolas wouldn't lie, therefore he had to conclude that the rabbit had indeed been consumed. Raw. An additional notion arose illuminating that there were various definitions of the word 'entrails' and that for sylvans this was probably quite a literal one. Thus another image came forward that involved various organs being chewed and swallowed as well. Elrond shuddered and shut his eyes as if to hide from the internal vision and willed himself to consider some equally obvious though previously unremarked truths.
Legolas was a Wood Elf born and raised in one of the most dangerous places in all of Arda. He had probably been included in patrols and hunting parties long before he'd reached majority. In a land nearly overrun with Orcs and spiders, a fire would serve as a beacon to foes. Yet an Elf must eat and fruit and acorns were not sufficient to supply all the body's needs. When meat was required, how else was it to be consumed without giving away their hidden outposts? Also, knowing how particular Legolas was, there were undoubtedly specific ways to prepare and clean the flesh before consuming it, even without the heat of fire. Indeed, in Mithlond certain delicacies were created using uncooked fish that made Elrond's mouth water just to think of them. Was there really so much to disdain, then?
Besides, he had been kissing Legolas all night and hadn't detected any unpalatable residual flavours from the rabbit. To ratify the point, Elrond pulled his mate close and gave him a deep and passionate tongue-tangling osculation. When the kiss ended he let Legolas flop back against the pillows and gloated over the shaky gasp of surprise and pleasure that left the Wood Elf's lungs.
"I'm glad you ate yesterday," he said, evidently quite proud of his ability to overcome his qualms, "but that was yesterday. Dawn has broken and you need to break your fast. Time to get out of this bed and ready ourselves for the day."
Legolas groaned and burrowed under the mound of linens. "I do not want to get up. There's fruit in the sitting room; I'll have some of that." Even as he said this, his stomach growled again and he had to admit a couple of apples would not be satisfactory. The notion of succulent flatfish, boned and battered and seared amid wild shallots, sprinkled with sesame and garlic, filled his thoughts. Suddenly he did not mind arising and fairly bounded from the bed, eager to gather his gear and go fishing.
"On reconsidering, I think it would be grand to go down to the brook where the old footbridge bears such quaint impressions of the valley's many love affairs upon its brick and mortar. I will make for you a favourite dish from my childhood days."
Elrond sighed, wishing for nothing more than to accept that invitation, yet he was well aware that he had guests in the house whom he had neglected entirely the previous day. He watched Legolas grabbing up his clothes and heading for the bathing chamber, wondering how to broach this unpleasant reminder that his life was not entirely his own and many obligations pressed upon him. He didn't need to, as it turns out, for his very silence and lack of action alerted Legolas. Slowly the Wood Elf leaned through the doorway, a frown marring his previously joyful features.
"Oh, I forgot about those bloody humans. I don't suppose you'll let Erestor handle them and roam the valley with me today."
"Now be reasonable, Legolas. I left them alone all day yesterday to search for you. I can't ignore them again or the whole point of their visit here will be for naught." Elrond wished he had bitten his tongue rather than speak these words, for at once Legolas' face smoothed out into that inscrutable mask of emotionless disinterest he used when his feelings were really hurting. The elder Lord rose quickly, intending to hurry over and beg forgiveness before Legolas disappeared again but to his surprise the archer visibly shook himself and made a disgusted sort of snatch of his tongue against his teeth.
"Aye, I do understand this, but I wish it could be otherwise. You will not be disappointed if I have no desire to join the planned activities? I have Ened Ethuil for which to prepare; someone must find Lindir a suitor." Legolas sent his love a faint but encouraging smile; he was not happy but he was determined not to behave like a spoiled elfling just because he couldn't have his way. The result was most gratifying, for he saw Elrond's whole face light up with gratitude and he was soon swept into a close embrace and treated to another breath-smothering kiss.
"Thank you, Aearen, that means more than you know. I realise you are leery of the humans but there isn't anything so terrible about them. They are the Second-born of Iluvatar, after all." Elrond joined his mate in the bathroom. Together they grasped the handle of the pump the clever lore-master had installed and primed it until the gilded spout spurted forth a clear stream of cool water into the marble basin.
"Aye, and the legends say the Men are not bound to Arda but will go from here to some other place when they die. How can they love all that Yavanna and Aulë created if this isn't their true home? In fact, the way they live indicates they place almost no value on the land except for the wealth they can wring from it, whether in metal and gems or food stuffs and livestock."
By now the pair were in the tub and commenced bathing one another with the sort of relaxed pleasure that comes from the absolute trust and contentment of committed mates. At a slight tug on his locks, Elrond bent forward and permitted Legolas to pour water over his hair in order to wash it. Without doubt, besides the complete union of their bodies, this was the activity he most enjoyed with the sylvan youth and all talking ceased. He sighed in luxurious abandon, eyes closed and lips upturned as the long fingers massaged and kneaded his scalp, working the lather through every single strand. By the time the last trace of soap was rinsed away, Elrond had the beginnings of an erection bobbing between his thighs but didn't mind in the least. Nor did Legolas, and they smiled and kissed sweetly.
Of course, Elrond desired to return the favour and could hardly wait to get his hands in the archer's fine, golden tresses, though he knew the experience was not as erotic for Legolas. After the initial soaking, Legolas took up the conversation where he'd dropped it.
"I have to say one of the most surprising things about Imladris is the way you people have adopted the human custom of keeping captive animals for food. Flocks of ducks and and gaggles of geese serenely paddling on the lakes, herds of goats and sheep and great, lumbering cattle grazing the grass and leaves, scurrying chickens squawking around the kitchen yard and huge wooden cages filled with rabbits, all available for killing at your whim." He shook his head and his tone clearly indicated his disapproval.
"We must keep animals restricted here for Imladris is not a large realm and open space is limited. How else would we feed so many Elves? Besides, the animals are not unkindly treated and when their lives end it is done quickly and with as little pain as possible. Certainly the butcher's blade is no more cruel than your arrows," retorted the Elven Lord, hastily dousing Legolas with a pitcher full of water, astonished that he had felt this way so long and never mentioned it.
"Nay, when I go out to hunt it is the way of things. The prey might elude me or it may not but it is a free creature separate from me with its own dignity and value. The wild things of the woods do not depend on me for their food and water; they live as Yavanna designed them, knowing how to find these necessities for themselves and their kind. If I succeed in the hunt it is with a mixture of regret and respect and gratitude. The animals without voices know the Wood Elves are both their benefactors, for we protect the forest from the Darkness, and the beneficiaries of their bounty. I could never kill and eat an animal kept like a pet in a pen."
"They are domesticated but definitely not pets!" exclaimed Elrond, staring in dismay at his lover. Suddenly his brows rose high as an idea presented itself to him and he laid a hand on Legolas' shoulder. "Is this why you refuse food from my table?"
"Aye. You don't think I particularly like to eat slugs, newts, frogs, and fish morning, noon, and night, do you? Yet for a long time I was not strong enough to go out hunting; I could barely lift my bow much less draw and fire, and climbing even small trees seemed to exhaust me. I was limited to what could be found in the gardens of the estate. You can't imagine how overjoyed I felt the first time I was able to get out into the fields and snare a rabbit. No fare ever tasted better than that, plain though it was."
"Why didn't you tell me?" the Elven Lord cried, thoroughly mortified that his ailing mate had gone hungry for such a cause.
"I was not sure of my place here," Legolas shrugged. "I didn't want to offend the one trying to save my life and it was uncertain if I would last long anyway."
The bath was over and both were standing on the slate-tiled floor drying off, quiet as they thought over this basic difference in lifestyles. Then Elrond again took hold of his lover's shoulders to force him to acknowledge what he was about to say.
"Your place is beside me, Aearen. I will make it official as soon as the humans are gone. Indeed, I will announce our betrothal at this evening's feast if you wish."
"Ai! Not so fast, Nín'ódhel. We can't have a formal bonding without a proper courtship and you must ask permission from my family, of course." Legolas' laughed to see anxiety suffuse the elder Elf's eyes. "Don't be alarmed; they love me and would do anything to see me happy."
"Family! But I thought…" Elrond stuttered, utterly dumfounded. "All this time you've had kinfolk in Greenwood? Why haven't any of them come to see you? I believed you were alone in the world."
"It's difficult to explain." Legolas moved away to sit upon a bench and busied himself with drying his hair, eyes upon the floor as he continued. "My situation here, it isn't an honourable one. Among my people, refusing to formalise a bond such as ours is a grave insult, a sign that the Elf so claimed is no more than a slave, unworthy to join his saviour's family as kin-by-bond. I didn't want them to know for it would shame them and cause bad feeling between the people of the Valley and those of the Greenwood. Then there is Galbreth. It was kinder to let them think both Galbreth and I perished that day. And, truthfully, I couldn't bear to see their love for me turn to hatred, for I killed my own brother."
Elrond stared, unable to find words in response to such a statement, lost in the realisation that Legolas had carried this stain of dishonour in addition to the grief and sorrow of losing his brother. In truth, he had lost everyone he cared about. It was no longer so difficult to comprehend the numerous attempts to end his life.
"Yet you didn't speak of these things. Had I understood, I would not have denied my heart for so long. I could have helped you face your kin and you would have seen how quickly they would have forgiven you. Why, Aearen?" Elrond moved to sit beside his lover, stilling the fidgeting hands and lifting the lowered face to meet his.
"I feared," Legolas swallowed against the tight knot forming in his throat and tangling up his thoughts. "As long as you didn't know, I could hope that you might yet learn to love me and make me yours. I could not have born it, hearing you scorn me, bidding me to go for I was well again and you had tired of me and…" He didn't get the chance to finish the hateful words for Elrond covered his mouth firmly with his hand.
"No, I won't let you give voice to those fears; they are without basis. I will never tire of you and if you ever leave me I shall fade from grief. Your family must be informed at once and I plan to share my delight in our union with all of Imladris at the feast of Ened Ethuil. I don't know the customs for courting among your kind but it is a Noldorin tradition for rings of promise to be worn until the day of the official ceremony."
"More rings? This is something of an obsession for the Noldorin folk, I see." The Wood Elf was smiling as he wrapped both arms around his lover and squeezed, relieved beyond words to have his greatest dread so completely negated.
"Well, the Noldorin people are known for a streak of treachery, so I suppose we must plainly mark whatever we hold as our own lest some other Elf attempt to steal it away. You are my own love, are you not? Tell me it won't be a burden to wear such a sign of possession upon your finger." Elrond whispered into the flushed ear so near his lips and managed to lick it as his hands wound around the sylvan and tried to draw him upon his lap.
"Nay, that is no hardship, beloved, especially since you will permit me to dress your lovely hair in the traditional braids of my House. That is how we sylvans announce such claims of one heart upon another," Legolas shivered and had to quickly pull away for the thought of seating himself upon the Noldo Lord's dripping erection was becoming entirely too tempting.
He hastened to a small dressing table by the window and retrieved a tortoiseshell comb. The archer returned with a smile and at once set about grooming the glorious blue-black tresses as he indulged his mate's third-most favourite activity. By the time the last braid was tied off, Elrond's penis was thoroughly and painfully hard. Legolas snickered and ran a trailing, whisper-light stroke from root to tip as Elrond stood, thrilling as the organ quivered in accord with the groan this provoked.
"Ah, you are the one burdened, Nín'ódhel. Shall I lend you a hand to lighten the load a bit?"
"Raug dithen!" grumbled Elrond, but he was smiling. "That is so generous of you to offer, but I think I will leave things as they are for now. Once I am free of the 'bloody humans' I will, however, avail myself of your assistance. You can imagine how much greater will be my need by then."
"Ai Elbereth!" Legolas was quite pleased and becoming aroused at the prospect. "How long will you be with them? I don't know if I want to wait after all." He wrapped his fist around the long erection and tugged, drawing Elrond toward the bedroom, only to have his querulous stomach interrupt his plans with enough force to make him let go and press against the offending region, for the pain was sharp and a fiery sensation bubbled up just beneath his heart.
"Ah, is this what you were suffering yesterday?" Elrond demanded, received a wordless nod in answer, and took hold of his mate at the elbow, guiding him into the bedroom and seating him on the edge of the bed. "Enough, I will not leave here until you have eaten something." Throwing on his dressing gown, Elrond went out to the sitting room and retrieved the bowl of fruit. A slight cough alerted him to Erestor's presence in the study just beyond and he grimaced; it was much later than he'd realised.
"I'm sorry, beloved, but I must dress quickly and go; the seneschal is impatiently pacing the study." He handed Legolas an orange and watched a moment as the Wood Elf ripped it open and began to devour the sweet and tangy fruit. With his lover's attention thus diverted, Elrond succeeded in binding up his achy penis so it wouldn't wag and nod and rub distractingly against his robes when he walked. Having donned suitable attire for his meeting with the Steward and the Prince, he bent to kiss sticky, citrus scented lips and passed loving eyes over the still undressed Elf. Then abruptly he knelt on the floor before Legolas and caught his face between both hands.
"I miss you already. I can't tell you how frantic I was yesterday, thinking you'd left. You didn't call me once during all of Anor's hours. Please let me know where you are today, Legolas, for it will give my heart ease while we are parted," he implored, searching the aqua irises for reassurance.
"I couldn't call you; I needed time alone to think. Be calm; today I will sing for you more plainly than the birds. You will know where to find me." Legolas was practically bursting with love and pride to find his soundless signal had been so sorely missed, for up till now little had been said of their short separation. He had worried that anger would be the primary response from Elrond and thus the needy plea was doubly satisfying. It did him even greater good to see how light was the Noldorin Lord's step as he left the room.
Legolas tossed the rind of the orange into the waste bin and got up to rinse away the residue of sugary juice before pulling one of Elrond's silk breech clouts from the wardrobe drawer. He grinned as he wrapped it around his body, imagining the look on his love's face when he revealed it later, then drew on his leggings and tunic. Not bothering to braid his hair, he gathered it all in a thick tail and tied it at the nape of his neck. He decided to forego his boots as well and just as he was about to exit from the suite over the balcony rails, a slight sound caught his ear and he paused. The noise repeated and Legolas let a protracted sigh escape his nostrils.
Glorfindel
A short, light scraping sounded from the study, as of a boot dragging toe first against the floor, followed by a brisk, sharp tap as a rigid leather heel knocked against the wooden boards. It could only be the Balrog Slayer, for this was his signature means of announcing his presence in Elrond's study when he thought Legolas was with his Lord. In cool weather, Glorfindel poked at the iron grate in the hearth with the fireplace tongs but in warm weather he scraped his boots upon the floor. Erestor coughed to alert the apartment's occupants of his arrival and that worked no mater the season, but for whatever reason Glorfindel would not use the same means and it was considered impolite to simply knock on the door in Imladris.
Legolas shook his head minutely and turned back for though he hadn't planned to do so this day, he needed to inform the legendary general that he would not be participating in the patrols for a time. He made his way along the balcony, which ran the length of the apartment, and stepped silently into the office to find Glorfindel frowning in worry, poised to make the shoe-scrape announcement again.
"Suilad, Lord Glorfindel," said Legolas and suppressed the grin that rose to his eyes anyway when the mighty warrior jumped in startlement. "You've just missed Elrond and Erestor. No doubt they are at the morning meal with the humans."
"Ah! Legolas, mae govannen. How do you fare this day? Has the cinnamon left your system?" he asked, a rather nervous timbre to his voice that was quite uncharacteristic.
"It has and I am well again. I thank you for your concern." Legolas was intrigued. Glorfindel was not the sort of Elf who became uncomfortable. Not even if Manwë himself stepped into the room would he show any kind of uneasiness, for he occasionally boasted about the time he'd played a game of cards with the august Vala in the gardens of Lorien. Yet here he was, fidgeting anxiously, shifting a small paper parcel from hand to hand.
"I am glad you came by for…"
"I would speak with you if…"
They began in concert and halted simultaneously, each mildly perturbed, but, being the youngest, Legolas bowed and indicated for Glorfindel to proceed.
"Legolas, I have something serious to discuss with you," the Balrog Slayer began.
Legolas nodded and observed him closely, sensing some momentous, perhaps even portentous, news was forthcoming from his captain. Glorfindel stood straight and tall with that forbiddingly impeccable formality he exuded whenever some unpleasant task fell to his hand for disposal. The Vanya noble was indeed significantly imposing. At least a head greater in stature than any other Elf in Imladris and maybe a tad more lofty than King Thranduil, Legolas thought for not the first time how much the Balrog Slayer reminded him of his Adar. He wondered if Glorfindel had been reborn more than once, for he could easily pass for Thranduil's elder brother, who had been killed at Dagorlad long before Legolas had been conceived. Mayhap Glorfindel had been Glorfindel then the King's brother and now Glorfindel again.
"… my responsibility due to the vow I made before Manwë. I thought it was the right thing to do. I want only what is best for Elrond and the people of Imladris and I'm sorry but I didn't think you fit such a definition. I didn't understand, you see, because Elrond didn't speak of his feelings."
Glorfindel was babbling and the rapid, rambling soliloquy couched in apologetic tones drew Legolas back from his random speculations.
"What are you talking about?" he asked in rather a more peremptory fashion than was usual for the quiet sylvan.
"I am trying to explain," said Glorfindel, somewhat surprised at the interruption. "Do you understand my place in this House? I am the chosen guardian over the descendants of Eärendil, chosen by the Mariner himself to watch over his sons and their progeny in the troubled times ahead."
"Yes, this is not a secret."
"Indeed." The Balrog Slayer cocked a brow at what he thought was a hint of impertinence from the lowly Wood Elf. "Legolas, I believed in all that enchantment nonsense. I thought you were trying to undermine the prestige and power of Elrond's House and because of that I took initiative and acted. Hastily, it turns out, and now it can't be undone."
"I see," Legolas couldn't help smiling at the idea of Wood Elves caring one whit about the exalted reputation of the Lord of Imladris. "I can but assure you that my people have enough to contend against without trying to make enemies among our own kind. What have you done, then?"
"I'm the one who sent for the twins."
Legolas visibly flinched and Glorfindel dropped his eyes to the floor, mortified to see that the reaction was just as he'd formerly hoped. A tense silence threatened to smother his resolve and so the re-born warrior gathered his courage and moved a step closer, extending his hand to Legolas.
"I was hoping to drive you away and now I am as desperately determined to prevent it. I understand now that you love Elrond and he returns your feelings. I beg your forgiveness, Legolas, and promise to do all I can to make Elrohir see reason. He and Elladan will have to accept your presence in their lives. I swear to you I will be your staunchest supporter in the looming conflict."
Legolas sighed; looking upon the contrite and humble posture of this proud and noble warrior, how could he do otherwise than forgive? Glorfindel had never hidden his disapproval of his connection to Elrond but he had never been cruel, saving his unpleasant remarks for times when he believed Legolas could not hear them. Besides, having him as an ally would be most beneficial.
"Be at peace, you only did what you thought was right. I don't hold it against you."
"That is very gracious and I thank you. This only reinforces the wisdom of Elrond's decision to take you for his mate. I ask that you accept this small gift as a tribute to such a generous spirit." Glorfindel stood tall again and held forth the paper parcel he'd brought with him, smiling brightly.
"That isn't necessary," Legolas spoke the polite words while eagerly taking the offering, as pleased as any elfling would be. He unwrapped the soft tissue and gasped, staring at the exquisitely crafted mithril comb revealed. "Oh, ah, this is a comb!" he stumbled over the words, his ears suddenly scarlet, unable to meet the Balrog Slayer's eyes. He turned the present over, uncertain whether to be furious or simply embarrassed, and then quickly bundled it back in the wrapping. He cleared his throat and finally managed to shoot a fleeting glance at the venerable general, noting the complete bafflement in the comely face.
"Lord Glorfindel, I thank you, but I cannot accept such a…a personal gift. You understand? I belong to Elrond; I bear his child; I'm in love with him. I'm sorry but there is no room for any other in my life."
"Ai! I didn't mean anything improper!" exclaimed the equally flustered Vanya, now as red of face as Legolas. He took back the parcel with an awkward little bow. "This must have special significance among your customs. I truly was not aware. Please don't mention this to Elrond, or Erestor," he paused. "Actually, I would be most grateful if no one else ever hears of this." With that a worried look passed through his azure eyes and he hurried over to the door and flung it open, glancing up and down the hall to make sure no witnesses could spread gossip over his gaff. When he returned, he found the sylvan regarding him with a most mischievous expression that made him exceedingly uncomfortable.
"I would be glad to keep this between us, so long as you grant me a favour in return."
"What do you want me to do?"
"Nothing so terrible," Legolas laughed at the look of dread on his new friend's face. "Just give that to Elrond with the suggestion that it would make a fine Ened Ethuil offering to me. That will more than make up for the misunderstandings between us. Actually, if you do this I think it will put me in your debt, for I fear Elrond has forgotten to procure a present and that would make for hurt feelings. That sort of thing tends to ruin the mood."
"I see," Glorfindel was grinning, eyeing Legolas with perhaps more intensity than was exactly proper as he recalled the erotic coupling he'd inadvertently witnessed in the gardens. His interpretation of Legolas' use of the word 'mood' was not inaccurate, but the lascivious gleam in his gaze made the archer take a step back and now it was Glorfindel's turn to laugh. "Do not be alarmed; I'm not going to seduce you. I will make sure Elrond presents this to you at the festival."
"Good then!" Legolas smiled. Before more could be said his stomach spoke for him, rumbling for more than a single orange, and he remembered the plan to go fishing. "I must go down to the stream where the sandy shallows are, for as my body so rudely demonstrated I am in need of some nourishment. Perhaps I will see you later in the day, Lord Glorfindel."
"As you wish," the Balrog Slayer didn't even blink at the Wood Elf's explanation. It was no longer a cause for shock to hear of Legolas preferring to find his own food rather than sit down to the abundant fare presented at every meal in the Last Homely House. He was not even surprised when Legolas turned to go back to the balcony rather than through the door. Glorfindel shook his head and smiled kindly, wondering why he'd ever thought an Elf with such quaint and natural ways could be a source for evil.
"Oh, I nearly forgot," Legolas turned back suddenly and caught him, returning the friendly expression with real happiness, startled to see the formerly forbidding countenance so open and accepting. "I meant to tell you that I won't be joining the guard again when my rotation comes up."
"No? Why ever not? Your skill will be sorely missed, Legolas. I know I haven't given you your due in that regard, but let me amend my error now," Glorfindel insisted, but then his countenance shifted into true amazement as his mind finally registered what Legolas had said a few moments ago. The warrior's eyes tracked at once to the Wood Elf's mid-section as his brow furrowed in confused disbelief. "Nay, that can't be true."
"It is, but I would ask you not to speak of it except with Elrond and those closest to him. Mithrandir and the Dûnadan know and so does Lindir; Arwen has probably been informed by now. Beyond that only the twins are aware. I am certain those two won't repeat the news, for they are in horror over the prospect of an illegitimate brother born of a sylvan male. I will tell you now something none other yet has heard, save me of course. Elrond is about to announce our plans to formalise the bond we share. I don't believe Elladan and Elrohir will be happy about that and so, you see, your unexpected support will be most needed."
"Ai! Now I am even more regretful for my precipitous interfering!" fumed Glorfindel, imagining the unpleasant things Elrohir would have to say about this.
"Nay, don't worry over it; what's done is done. Perhaps it is for the best. This conflict needs to be resolved one way or another," consoled Legolas. "They might listen to you for they respect your opinion highly. Namarie, Lord Glorfindel."
With those hopeful words, Legolas leaped over the rails and was soon loping away across the lawn, leaving a doubtful yet determined Balrog Slayer to formulate a strategy to overcome the twins' opposition.
TBC
To Wreath of Roses: So glad you are still with me! Yes, I cut out a lot of that scene and gave Elrond a huge break. That's OK, though, because he is in for much aggravation as Legolas' pregnancy advances and the Wood Elf becomes more demanding. Now that everything's going to be made all right and proper, Legolas won't be the shy retiring little elf anymore. Thanks for your kind praises and I'm glad the make-up scene worked!
To DeLurker: Awww shucks! Thank you again.
Pesseg Athrabeth: pillow conversation
Raug dithen: little demon (imp)
herth: troop, as of warriors
Gwaedh Prestannen: Troubled Troth
Thyrin Trenor: Secrets Told
Galbreth: beech tree, from a dialect of Doriath
faer dithen: little soul
Muilengôl: Veiled magic-a Doriath-derived name for wizards.
Eglerio Elbereth! Eglerio Sulimo, Hîr od Valinor!: Praise Elbereth! Praise Sulimo (a name for Manwë) Lord of Valinor!
ithron sael: wise wizard
Saelben: wise one
Úgerth uin Ionnath: Sins of the Sons
Narwain: January
Nay, saes, avvedi: No, please, don't go.
Dîn Caradhras: Red Horn Pass
Carth Dalt: Slippery Deed
Saelben: Wise one
Alae!: Behold!
Pedethryn Dailt: Slippery Walkers - slugs and/or snails
Nîth Chall: Shadowed Youth
nârion: son of a rat
hecilo: outcast (Quenya)
Ened Ethuil: Mid-Spring
Aegas Mírdan: Mountain Peak the Jewel Smith, an Elf of Rivendell
Muindoradar: brother-father, Uncle
Minya'mmë: first mother, grandmother
Aearen: my ocean
Nín'ódhel: my Deep Elf
Thenin: True. (Yes.)
Man le presta, Aearen?: What troubles you, My Ocean?
Alnad, alnad, Nín'ódhel: Nothing, nothing, My Deep Elf.
Advae?: Better? (Well again?)
Pan vae: All right
Ringe: cold
NOTE: Wonder of wonders, these two are finally TALKING to each other! Legolas has held back a lot, it seems, and Elrond is a fool if he doesn't realise this is the proverbial tip of the iceberg. It isn't easy for Legolas to open up and Elrond will have to do a great deal of prompting to keep the revelations coming. He's probably worried about the reaction of Legolas' family now that he knows a bit more about how such battlefield bonds are viewed in Greenwood. It took him ten years to decide he loves his Wood Elf and that is bound to be seen as an insult to Legolas' House. I have a feeling that when the relatives descend upon Imladris they won't be as retiring and unobtrusive as that last band of Wood Elves. Is anyone wondering who the couple coupling in the garden was? And who might Legolas choose for Lindir's secret suitor? Will he ever get new underwear and what about his fried flounder breakfast? Will those humans NEVER leave so we can get on to more important things?
© 08/08/2007 Ellen Robey