Another’s Guilt

Another’s Guilt by Númenora

Rating: NC-17, PG-13 (for a bit of language) this chapter

Disclaimers and Summary: See chapter one.

Warnings: Remember, this is slash; AU, Mpreg. Un-betaed, all mistakes (in English and Elvish) are mine.

A/N: This chapter will see the return of Legolas’ kin and their Elven brethren from Greenwood and Lothlórien. Other well-known Tolkien characters will appear—notably Galadriel. There will be a bit of OOC-ness from one or more of these characters (this chapter and future ones); I won’t say who right off because that would reveal too much at first. But it will become apparent later on along with some answers to secrets (eventually) that have been kept over the years.

The time frame may be a bit confusing as there will be some overlapping. When we meet up with the search party, it will be approximately the same time as that of Aragorn and Legolas at the White Falls in Rohan; but as time progresses, some things may not be synchronous. I don’t feel that this will take away anything from the ‘action’ (I’m using this term very loosely in some cases) involving the characters.

Aragorn and Legolas will be in this chapter, too as I will be alternating between A/L and the searchers. One quick note on Galadriel: Since Sauron was defeated and the One was destroyed during the Last Alliance, she does not have the aid of Nenya (her ring of power), so she is not as powerful as in canon LotR. She is still able to farspeak/mindspeak with the elder elves like Thranduil, Elrond and Lord Celeborn, etc., but she is not all-seeing (though she still has the gift of foresight like Elrond). And since her continual fight against Evil and her aid during the WR made it possible for her to earn her right to enter Valinor in canon, it is not the case here which may will be relevant in this chapter. One final thing: I apologize for the obscenely late update of this fic and I will try to update again very soon (fingers crossed).


Elvish Phrase Glossary at the chapter’s end

Thoughts and stressed words denoted **

Chapter Nine

“Regression”


Rúmil watched as the large party (still hours away) approached. He, his brother Orophin and the wardens of Lórien were guarding this entrance into the Golden Wood. It hadn’t taken him long to recognized the form of his elder muindor Haldir, so he and the others weren’t on high alert against the approaching group though they were always ready for attack by yrch or other invaders.

Orophin came close to stand by Rúmil on the outer edge of the guard talan. “I do not like the set of Haldir’s shoulders; the search for the lost Princeling must have gone ill,” he whispered to Rúmil.

“I hope not. I do not relish the lamenting that will follow if the young one has fallen.” Rúmil had only met Legolas once, but he had been instantly enchanted by him.

The Silvan well-remembered Legolas’ and Arminas’ naneth Eärwen; though he was much younger than she, he could but help be enamored of Galadriel’s young ward. Eärwen’s mother died giving birth to her and her sire faded from his grief—the elfling not enough to sustain him. The Lady had taken the care of the child unto herself, naming the babe for her own dear mother. Legolas was the very image of her except for gender. The thought that he was no longer on Arda, but in Námo’s realm filled Rúmil with untold sadness.

“I pray that Legolas is well. Perhaps I should ride out to meet them,” he said more to himself.

“They will be here soon, muindor-nin—do not despair. Haldir may just be tired. You know how relentless he can be, foregoing rest to achieve an aim; especially a noble goal such as this.” Placing a comforting arm on the younger ellon’s shoulder, “You worry too much, pen-vuil. Come—let us get something to eat.”

With one final look, Rúmil followed Orophin inside the post, another taking his place as lookout.

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Haldir wanted to scream for the billionth time since leaving the woods just beyond the edain’s outpost. To get so close to Legolas only to be thwarted was maddening. When the mortal’s horse had recovered enough for them to retrace its steps, they headed out. It had taken a few days, but they found the camp of the thieves. The place was deserted except for the rotting corpses of two adan who appeared to have killed each other, a torn jerkin of fine make lying between them; the dead men’s hands still gripped the garment as if, even in death, they refused to relinquish claim to it.

After searching the area, they were able to recognize the mare Carnil’s hoof prints leading in the opposite direction of whence the elves and she had just come. Another day saw them to the spot where they were sure the attack of the mare’s master had taken place, the area covered in non-Elven blood. A cursory exploration showed the remnants of campfires and buried waste—food and bloodied bandages. Just as they were about to follow the mortal’s path, Oropher cried out; he had found a swatch of Elvish cloth. It was a cut piece of Legolas’ shirt covered in blood.

Haldir had pulled the younger ellon into his arms and comforted him as he wept; nearby, Arminas sank to the ground with wails of his own—his guard holding him close. Finrod took the piece of cloth from the distraught Sinda and informed them that the blood was not the Princeling’s, but the injured human. The news turned Oropher’s and Arminas’ tears of sorrow into ones of joy and hope. Soon after, they began following the trail, making better time than the mortals they tracked as none among them were injured. They only paused in their pursuit to feed, water and rest their horses—Legolas’ white steed Nimphelos and Carnil as well.

The mortals’ tracks were easy to follow as there were many and they obviously didn’t feel the need to mask their progress to their destination. Within a day, they neared what Haldir informed all was an outpost. During their journey, they had had considerable trouble holding back the mare Carnil as she was in familiar territory; but as they neared the Edain outpost, she tore free and ran the rest of the way to the walled gate. The elves had watched as the men on guard began shouting out orders and before long, some came out to investigate. It was obvious that many of them recognized the animal; Haldir, who had taken to the trees with several of the advanced scouts, watched as a tall blond, handsome mortal greeted the mare lovingly. The Silvan heard the man call the mare by name, saying that Faramir (a name gleaned from the chestnut horse as her master) would be so thrilled to have her back.

It had nearly killed Haldir to tell Oropher that Legolas was more than likely inside the outpost, but that in his opinion, they should not make contact with these men. After a time, it was decided that two elves (Haldir and a Greenwood elf called Saeros) would move closer to the station and find out what they could of the Prince. After two days of reconnaissance, they learned that Legolas had been taken to Gondor, traveling with someone of import and a party of Dúnedain and Rohirrim guards.

During their pursuit, they had determined that Legolas had been bound for at least half the journey—signs of his hobbled feet quite evident; but then, the Prince had been unfettered for the remaining trip. They still didn’t know if Legolas was considered a captive; even though his feet had been unbound, he still could have been their prisoner. If that were the case, then they would need to contact Lady Galadriel and through her, King Thranduil so that Legolas could be retrieved through diplomatic means.

Haldir and the Thranduilionnath reluctantly left, heading towards Lothlórien. Everything within each of them wanted to pursue the party heading to Gondor, but they knew that if they confronted the humans, there was a good chance that their captive kin could be killed—the thought that Legolas went willingly never entering their minds. So here they were, approaching the Golden Wood without the young ellon close to their hearts.

The Marchwarden looked over at Legolas’ brothers: Oropher was trying to appear strong for Arminas who was barely containing his anguish and disappointment. The Silvan could see through Oropher’s brave front, but he did not—could not—say anything of comfort as his own feelings of helplessness impeded any sage words he might have been capable of giving normally. He could only offer his physical presence and he reached over to briefly grasp the Prince’s cold hand, squeezing the fingers in support. The younger elf’s grateful, lovely smile warmed Haldir’s heart, making him feel better instead of the other way around.

“Ada will be so angry and disappointed that we failed our dear Greenleaf; were I him, I would throw us all in the dungeons to rot until our lives are utterly spent!” Oropher, Haldir and the other elves all turned to Arminas as he spoke, his voice and eyes full of unshed tears.

“All is not lost, tôr dithen—Leaf is alive; that was our greatest wish. If the mortals had wished him harm, he would be dead already. They obviously do not for he is still among them. We must allow the Lady and Ada to bring him home to us. I have faith in them and you should as well.” Oropher reached over, halting their horses to turn Arminas to face him.

Cupping the dear face so like Legolas and their naneth, he kissed Arminas’ forehead and wiped away the tears that had finally began to flow freely. “I know that you are disappointed—so am I. But we have hope now when we had little before.”

Hugging his tôr-neth tightly, Oropher then moved the elves forwards towards Lórien. Twilight was falling when they finally reached the border; once they crossed over, Rúmil and Orophin embraced Haldir and the Princes from Greenwood, leading them to a large talan to eat and rest. Though they were hungry and tired, none enjoyed the meal laid before them as their minds were with the missing Legolas. They would spend the night there, but all were eager to see the Lord and Lady and would leave first light for Caras Galadon. The sooner they informed Galadriel of the facts, the sooner they could get Legolas back within their fold.

Oropher’s last thought as he slipped into reverie that night was that he would not rest until Legolas was safe with them again. He was sure that the Prince was being mistreated and afraid. He could not know that Legolas had entered into a relationship with the leader of his former captives—the dúnadan completely in love with him. It was not going to be easy to take back the ellon from this most determined young Gondoran.

“We will have you home again, pen-neth—please do not despair.” He whispered to the night sky, hoping and wishing his brother could feel him.

The next morning, as the group made for the chief city Caras Galadon, Oropher repeated his promise to the absent Princeling in the hopes that Legolas could sense him and know that his elder brother was thinking only of him

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rohan, at the White Falls...

Legolas squirmed as he slept. ‘*We will have you home again, pen-neth—please do not despair,*’ filled his mind. Eyes becoming focused, he whimpered as Oropher’s thoughts registered; his guilt and shame following closely thereafter. Legolas covered his face with his hands, trembling as he did so. *You selfish, foolish elf! How could you forget your brothers—your ada so easily?* He tried to sit up, but found he could not; Aragorn’s arms were holding him. The more he attempted to pull away, the tighter the Peredhel’s grip became, the Sinda’s back pressed against Aragorn’s muscled chest.

“Let go, Aragorn—saes!” Pale fingers tore at the tan limbs in an effort to free himself. When the Gondoran failed to respond, burrowing his face into Legolas neck instead, the wood-elf raised his voice in a near panic. “Aragorn—let me go!”

Aragorn heard Legolas’ alarm, pulling the slighter male closer in an attempt to calm him, but this only made things worse. “Shhh, beloved—I am here.”

“I said let. Me. Go!” Legolas said forcefully.

Aragorn released him immediately, confused by the Prince’s attitude. “What is wrong, Legolas—are you hurt?” When Legolas didn’t answer, the Dúnadan touched his new lover’s shoulder, only to see Legolas flinch away.

“*Don’t.* Do not touch me.” A sob followed the command.

“Alright, meleth—I will not,” Aragorn’s voice betrayed his hurt, but Legolas was too upset himself to care. “Will you not tell me what has happened?”

“I wish to be left alone,” he declared. He knew that he was being unfair to Aragorn, so he added, “Do not concern yourself as I will be fine. I am just...cold,” he prevaricated.

“But you are an elf—you do not feel the cold,” Aragorn said hoping that the Prince would tell him what was truly the matter, though he sadly suspected its cause.

Legolas’ head snapped around before turning fully to face the Gondoran Prince. His voice deadly calm, he posed, “How do *you* know what I feel? You know nothing! Not about me or my people. All you know is what your prejudice and narrow-minded *human* mind has told you. Don’t ever tell me what I am supposed to feel again!” Legolas' chest heaved as he fought his tears.

It was Aragorn’s time to flinch at the venomous tone directed at him. “Forgive me, Legolas—I did not mean to suggest that you don’t know your own feelings. And you are correct in most of what you said; I did have preconceived ideas about elves, but that has changed these past few weeks. Being with you all that time and...*being*...with you today has given me more insight into *our* people—you must see that.”

Legolas laughed mirthlessly at this. “You think that just because we have conversed a few times that you know all there is to know about *our* people?” Legolas’ voice was mocking but it was distressed, too.

“I didn’t say that,” Aragorn said lowly, totally offended.

“Oh,” Legolas continued ironically. “Then perhaps you have gleaned this superior knowledge because I allowed you to paw me, touching me in ways no one ever dared to before? Or could it be that your tongue has some special divining powers that enabled it to suck out the information from my hidden places?”

Aragorn watched tears flow down Legolas’ hostile face. “I never meant to paw you, Legolas—only to love you. And...and...I hoped that you would love me back. I never wanted to force my attentions on you.” His voice broke as he continued, “I would rather die than hurt or frighten you again.”

Legolas’ shoulders slumped under his emotions. Turning slightly away from his companion, he said dully, “I wish to be alone, Aragorn—please...”

“Very well, Ernilen.” He walked over to the edge of the pool. Turning back briefly to glance at Legolas’ dejected form, he spoke gently, “I love you with all my heart, Legolas; I hope that one day you can forgive me for hurting you before and taking advantage of you today—I never meant that.

“I...I only wanted you to care for me...just a little. I won’t ever touch you intimately again unless you wish it.” He took a deep breath and continued, “Next time—if there is to be one—you will have to ask as I am not able to read your mind or your desires apparently. I will guard you with my life no matter what you decide. I just hope that we can be friends at least.”

When Legolas failed to acknowledge his statements, Aragorn finished by saying, “I will go put out your things; I have a small blanket that you can wrap yourself in. When you are dressed, I will allow the others into the glen to camp for the night and we can continue on to Meduseld in the morning.”

The dúnadan looked longingly towards Legolas’ silent form. He ached to touch his love, holding him close but Aragorn knew that he would be rejected once more. His heart and his pride could not bear that, so he plunged into the pool to put out his and Legolas belongings. After he had dressed, he informed Girion that they would stay the night at the Falls and then carry on to Edoras the remaining eight hours on the morrow. Giving final instructions, he caught a flash of pale gold as Legolas swam closer to the shore. Hurrying over to the edge of the pond, Aragorn stood holding the small blanket he spoke of to Legolas, wrapping it around the naked Elda before stepping away.

“I put your bedroll over yonder just beyond that bush. You will have some privacy as no one will disturb you.”

The stressed *no one* did not escape Legolas’ notice and he nodded briefly in acknowledgement, moving away from Aragorn. He regretted his harsh words to the young Gondoran (although Legolas was angry with Aragorn for making him desire these strange new passions), but his guilt and shame over his selfishness overrode every other emotion. His poor brothers were terribly worried for him—he could feel their pain. He had ignored the plight of his family (his adar)—the only people who cared for and protected him his entire existence in favor of staying with Aragorn.

The Peredhel had confessed his love for him in many ways even before he uttered the words this very day and Legolas returned those feelings—he knew that now, though he had not said so in words. But to choose a new love over his family was disgraceful and Legolas’ guilt and shame knew no bounds. No, it was best if Aragorn thought that Legolas did not care; that way he would keep his distance.

When he was again clothed, he nodded to Aragorn, and then watched as the Gondoran Prince moved to the mouth of the glen, whistling shrilly to alert Girion and the others. The men moved swiftly setting up the camp; they watered the horses and set about making campfires. He admired the way Aragorn admonished them all to respect this beautiful place by only making fires in the spots designated by the Rohirrim citizenry who had been there previously.

Legolas felt his heart flutter to hear Aragorn’s quiet, but authoritative voice speaking to be followed by his fond laughter at something one of the men said to him. The Half-elf must have felt the wood-elf’s stare for he turned and gazed fondly at Legolas, his smile full of love. Legolas wanted to run into his arms, but frowned instead, his lovely lips compressing into a tight line before turning his back on Aragorn.

Girion and a few other Dúnedain rangers noticed the exchange, glancing one to the other. They hated to see the two Princes at odds as they knew that Aragorn loved Legolas and began to suspect that the Sinda returned those feelings. Each didn’t say so aloud, but they all hoped this was merely a lover’s spat that would work itself out.

Legolas sat with his legs crossed and tucked under, staring at the ground; he was in turmoil—both wishing that he’d never met Aragorn and wanting to feel those strong arms about him. He longed for the Peredhel’s kiss and the passions so recently shared. But these longings only served to deepen his guilt and anger at himself and Aragorn. Before long, the stress from so many unused-to feelings exhausted the young ellon and he laid himself down on his bedroll. He prayed to the Valar that he would find respite from his pain in Elven dreams.

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The Golden Wood, Caras Galadon...

Galadriel glanced at her herven Celeborn as they listened to Haldir’s report. Closing her blue eyes briefly, she waited for the Marchwarden to finish.

When Haldir bowed and then stepped back, she said, “Thank you, Haldir. I know that you and your company did all that you could to secure Legolas’ return. While I am saddened that he is not among you, your decision not to confront the Gondorans was wise.”

Then turning to the silent Greenwood Princes, “You must not grieve so, pen-neths—there is every reason to believe that Legolas is alive and well. It has been some years since I have had...*dealings*...with the men of Gondor, but they have (for the most part) been very honorable as well as sensible. They will not want to risk open war with the Firstborn.

“I have been in contact with King Thranduil and while he is very worried about dear Legolas, he also feels that the child is alive. After what Haldir has reported, I am very hopeful that he will be back with us soon. I know that you are tired and weary—go rest and I will send for you after Lord Celeborn and I have conversed with your adar about this new development.”

Her words were soothing to the disheartened muindeir and Arminas visibly calmed which helped Oropher to do so as well, his worry two-fold. Taking their leave of the Lord and Lady, they were escorted to a grand talan reserved for visiting dignitaries. When they had gone, Lord Celeborn spoke to his wife.

“Now that we know that Legolas is headed for the Gondoran capital, we should urge Thranduil to contact Elrond about this; he above all others knows well the King of Gondor. He could intercede on his behalf.”

“No.” She said quietly but with feeling. “I will not bring Elrond into this matter or have you forgotten the trouble the Gondoran *King* brought into our daughter’s home? She is in Valinor right now because of it! Do you know how difficult it is for me to know that I may never see her again?”

“I do know, herves-nin—but Legolas should not have to pay for sins not his own. You and Elrond can put your pain aside in favor of this. Celebrian made her choices just as you and that family did—though one had no choice in the matter originally.

“Be that as it is; neither Legolas nor his loved ones had a hand in those decisions and should not be made to suffer further. If you do not suggest it, then I will. Nearly twenty-one years ago I stood by while an innocent’s fate was decided by those who should have loved him, but not again—*never again!* Celeborn was firm and Galadriel knew that he was serious.

“Then you tell him because I cannot!” Her voice broke on a sob as she turned away, her wavy, golden hair shimmering about her shoulders.

She knew that her own actions were just as culpable for the lost of her only child as King Arathorn’s were. But she also knew that if he had not gone to Rivendell, Celebrian would still be near—not in Aman where her mother is not allowed to go. When the elves all finally took their leave of these shores, she would be all alone to live out her existence among beings who ruined her family. Hastily wiping away her tears, she faced Celeborn once more.

“Do what you feel is best; I wash my hands of it.” She then left, seeking out her private rooms.

Lord Celeborn watched her go, then did the same. He would need solitude and concentration to mind-speak with his dear friend. Closing the door to his rooms (he and Galadriel no longer shared a bed, his love for her waning since her interference with the Peredhel child), he sat with eyes closed, sending his thoughts out to Thranduil.

When their minds touched, Celeborn smiled as they welcomed each other. ‘*Thranduil—I have very good news.*’

TBC

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Elvish Phrase Glossary:

Muindor/muindor-nin – Brother/my brother (family)
Yrch – Orcs (plural)
Námo – Another name for Mandos
Ellon – Male elf
Pen-vuil – Dear one
Edain – Men (plural of adan/man)
Carnil – Name of a (red) star (Silmarillion) Nimphelos – Name of a great pearl gifted by Thingol
Sinda – Singular of Sindar
Dúnadan – Singular of Dúnedain; also a name used to describe Aragorn in canon
Dúnedain – ‘Edain of the West’ or Númenóreans
Meleth – Lover
Ernilen – My Prince
Herven – Husband
Thranduilionnath – Sons (ionnath) of Thranduil
Tôr Dithen – Younger brother
Ada –Daddy (less formal of adar/father)
Tôr-neth – Little brother
Penneth – Little one
Saes – Please
Muindeir – Brothers
Herves-nin – My wife
Aman – ‘Blessed Realm’ of which Valinor is a part.


A/N: The terms tôr and muindor are both ‘brother.’ One (tôr) is considered more poetic or formal like adar as opposed to the more familiar ‘ada.’ Both terms refer to actual brothers born of the same parents or raised in the same family; there is the term ‘gwador’ which refers to a sworn brother or comrade—someone who is not an actual member of the family. Let me take this time to apologize for any errors I have made with the uses of English as well as Elvish (Sindarin or Quenya) as I have no beta and I am still learning (or discovering) Tolkien Elvish languages.

I would also like to thank with all my heart my loyal readers and reviewers for their lovely feedback. Your words of encouragement and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated; I endeavor to continue to earn your faith in me and will continue to try and entertain you with this very AU story to its conclusion. I have delegated my live journal at greatestjournal.com as the place to find my responses to my anonymous reviewers w/o email addresses; I am grateful to the ones who provided theirs so that I could respond directly by email. I would encourage the others to do the same, but if you don’t wish to, I understand; just follow the link in my profile to my greatestjournal.com account or go there directly—my username is the same as my penname Númenora. I will try and update again very soon as my RL permits (namely school).

Númenora