In Twilight
folder
-Multi-Age › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
21
Views:
8,123
Reviews:
47
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
21
Views:
8,123
Reviews:
47
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.
In Twilight
In Twilight
Summary: Tis the Third Age, 2610, 100 years after Celebrian’s passing into the West. In order to strengthen ties between Imladris and Mirkwood, King Thranduil and Lord Elrond have decided to foster the other’s children for a full year. With Arwen away at Lothlorien, the twins, Elladan and Elrohir, are left to endure their much unwanted stay in Mirkwood. They soon learn that Mirkwood’s darkness does not extend into the hearts of its inhabitants and, Elladan in particular, finds a kindred soul in one of Thranduil’s children.
Setting: Mirkwood (1 year), Imladris (1 year), Imladris/Feast and Council of Elrond, Rohan (arrival of northern Dunedain and Peredhil twins before Paths of the Dead), Minas Tirith (after War of Ring), Imladris
Characters:
-Imladris: Elladan, Elrohir, Arwen, Elrond, Glorfindel, Erestor
-Mirkwood: Legolas, Arondil, Celeron, Nimriel, Erinien, Thranduil
-Others: Estel/Aragorn/Elessar, Gimli
Disclaimers: Don’t owe them (except for Arondil, Celeron, Nimriel and Erinien), don’t claim to owe them (except for the aforementioned four), wish I did owe them but I’m not as brilliant as Tolkien was so I will settle for merely borrowing them for the purpose of my story. Lyrics are from the anime .hack//SIGN.
A/N: Elladan/Legolas story with pieces of Elrond/Glorfindel. I’ve tried keeping to keep as accurate as possible with the dates provided in Tolkien’s World From A to Z: The Complete Guide to Middle-Earth by Robert Foster; if there are any miscalculations in ages, please let me know.
I have created Elladan to be the elder twin though I don’t know which Tolkien had in mind as the eldest, I simply have based my decision on the fact that Elladan tends to be mentioned first when calling the twins by name. In reference to Legolas’ age, I don’t claim that to be accurate either. The only basis I have for making him nearly as old as the twins is a line from Two Towers where he is quoted to saying that being in ancient Fangorn forest makes him feel “as young as you children” as he speaks to Aragorn and Gimli.
As to the relationship between Thranduil and Elrond, I know they are not friends. For the purposes of my story, this fact holds partially true; the two elven lords hold a deep respect for each other and get along fairly well though they do not refer to themselves as friends.
I do not claim that all the contents of this story are entirely mine. I have been influenced by other slash writers, storieswhicwhich I highly recommend reading. If other contents of this story seem familiar or similar to something you have written, please accept my humblest apologies to not crediting you directly; I have read many slash stories as of late and only the longest, humorous and teary stories remain in my memory.
And, lastly, I am not fluent in Sindarian (though I hope to be some day), so I therefore accredit any Sindarian to the slash writers Ilye (Saving Grace and In Lieu of Love), Tyellas of Ansereg (Star-Crossed series) and McKenna Espenshade (Mending a Heart). There are others whom I don’t recall at the moment (my humblest apologies). I hope to later translate song lyrics into Sindarian, time and patience permitting.
Beta read by Ilye (thanks love!)
/ / denotes thoughts
~~~~~~~~~~ denotes changes in scene
Reviews, suggestions and comments are welcome. Flames will be ignored, as the content of this story should be made fairly clear seeing as where I am posting this.
Chapter 1: Reluctance
Summary: Elrond announces to his sons his decision of sending them to Mirkwood for a year; the twins are none too happy, but accept with reluctance.
“I refuse to go, Ada!”
“I too! We are not children, you cannot force us into this!” Elrond sighed in exasperation at his sons as he slowly tried in vain to sink slowly deeper into his chair, like the piece of furniture could hide him from the scornful looks he was receiving. He knew the twins would not take his news with good grace, but their firm resistance was beginning to wear on him after an already long and tiresome day. Passing a hand over his eyes, the elder peered over his slim fingers at his twin sons, weathered warriors standing tall and firm before him, defiance in their matching stormy gray eyes. Convincing them would be far from easy, but he had to try as best he could.
“Listen to me, both of you,” the lord of Imladris said in an even, calm voice, straightening just a little in his chair. “I know you would rather spend your time hunting down Orcs to avenge your mother as you have done faithfully all these years. You would probably prefer if I sent you to stay with your grandparents for the year; at least in Lothlorien you can roam, with the Galadhrim and help protect the borders. But this is something I need you to do for me; this is something vitally important. This will benefit us all, and perhaps mend any, Elbereth forbid, rifts that might have unknowingly occurred. Arwen is residing in Lorien at the moment, so I can ask no one but the two of you to do this for me. There is no one else I can ask this favor of.”
“But stay in Mirkwood? For a whole year?” It was difficult for Elladan to disguise the emotion flooding into his voice; in the end he gave up trying, disbelief and annoyance lacing every one of his words. “Ada, you and Thranduil are not exactly what everyone would call ‘friends’; I don’t know if there is a proper word to describe the…relationship you both have. The two of you rarely speak to each other in correspondences, even less when in one another‘s presence. Why are you insisting we go and stay in his realm for a whole year?”
“Because it will strengthen ties with Mirkwood. They are secluded and far to the north. They need a strong alliance now more than ever as the darkness grows in their forest.”
“Why can they not have ties with Lorien?” Elrohir reasoned, though he knew already the answer to his question. The Golden Wood was further from the Greenwood than Imladris was. It made more sense to establish an alliance with the Last Homely House than with the Woods of the Mellryn Trees. Besides, there were no longer heirs to Lothlorien with the twins’ mother gone over sea. An alliance between the Last Homely House and the Northern Woods would benefit more than merely the two parties involved. If such a bond between them could be established, then Mirkwood would have an indirect link to Lothlorien, felling two birds with a single shot from an elven bow.
“Can you not do this for me?” Elrond tried to argue, ignoring Elrohir’s question. “It is only one year. You will be trying to win the favor of Thranduil’s children, not the king himself. An alliance between heirs is more promising than one between the parents, especially after so many long years.
“I am not asking you to perform a miracle, merely to help our kin in what little way you can. Saes, gwenyn-nîn.” He looked each one of his sons in the eye, hard steel gray against not so rough pale charcoal. The lord silently implored them to heed his wishes, not as their leader and ruler but as their father. Elrond asked so little of his children, save their happiness, that it was difficult for any one of them to fully reject any requests he laid before their feet. With a collective sigh, the twins finally caved in.
“All right, Ada,” It was Elrohir who spoke. “We’ll go to Mirkwood as you ask. But that does not mean we will like it. Do not be too surprised if one year later you find yourself with two very grumpy sons on a warpath when we return.” A thankful smile graced the aged yet still youthful face as Elrond gestured for his sons to approach, wrapping them in a warm paternal embrace when they were close.
“Thank you, pen-neth--both of you.” He released them, the warm smile still etched across his features. “Now go and prepare yourselves for the journey. You leave tomorrow morn.” With a united nod, the twins turned, dark chocolate hair swirling around them as they left their father’s study to attend to their own matters. Elrond watched them leave, a faint sigh escaping him as a warm, pale hand descended onto his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.
“They were reluctant, but they love you,” came the voice of Elrond’s oldest friend and advisor turned lover. “In their hearts they would do anything for you; Arwen as well.”
“Aye, that I know, Glorfindel.” The blond nodded, a faint smile coming to him as he knelt next to his lord. Elrond gazed down at him, drinking in the sight of deep ocean-blue eyes hiding, a bit mischievously, behind stray strands of golden-blond hair. The hand moved from his shoulder as the Elda lord knelt, cupping Elrond’s knee instead, fingers trailing over wine-colored velvet robes in its path. They stared at each other for a long moment, when Elrond finally let out a sigh, fingers lifting to twirl into golden locks spilling over Glorfindel‘s shoulder. “Was I right in asking this of them? Was I right to agree to let them foster a year in a place they have no real desire in visiting, much less living there?”
“It is no secret that you and Thranduil are not the best of friends,” Glorfindel reasoned in a soothing voice. “In fact, it’s probably rather a stretch to call you friends at all.”
“Aye, but I respect him. He is a king of his own realm.”
“And you are a lord of yours, a well-known and great one at that. For those qualities he respects you. He respects you as the lord of an elven realm, as a hardened, seasoned warrior and as a great negotiator and lore master. You protect your people to the best of your abilities and they love you for doing such deeds; he can relate to that far too well.
“Aye he hates the Noldorion blood that flows within you; the same blood that flows within your children; the blood that began the Kinslayings too many years ago. But that is something he cannot help, no more than he can help his own bloodlines; the great king of Mirkwood should realize that if he does not already.”
“You are right, a’maelamin. Yet I am more concerned about his children.” He paused, during which time Glorfindel studied his features carefully, one pale hand reaching up to twirl fingers in the chocolate hair that both twins had inherited, mirroring the lord‘s own fingers still in his hair. Elrond sighed at the faint touch before continuing. “I have not met any of Thranduil’s children. I have heard he has three sons and a daughter. It makes me wonder how sim or or how different…from their father each one is…”
“Each of your cren ren are different from one another, from you--even the twins.”
“Exactly. But there are also similarities between us. I only hope that none of Thranduil’s children have inherited their father’s haughty arrogance. Elladan in particular does not take kindly to such an attitude. And they will be associating with one another on a daily basis.” As he finished speaking, his golden haired lover rose on his heels, planting a breezing kiss on his lips.
“The twins are grown, and they handle themselves well in battle and in diplomacy. You have taught them, as have Erestor and I. They will not bring dishonor to you, your house or themselves. All will be well, melethron, do not worry.” Elrond sighed yet again, leaning his forehead against Glorfindel’s, smiles crossing each of their faces.
“What would I do without you?” His lover merely smiled more brilliantly in return as they drunk in each other’s presence, forgetting the world around them. All that existed was one another and the quiet moment they were sharing together. Neither moved for the longest time until a chime sounded, signaling the start of the evening meal. In unison the two lovers rose, walking hand-in-hand to the dining hall. One reassured the other with merely his presence; the other smiled softly at the encouragement, leaning against his lover. Elrond resolved to show Glorfindel his appreciation for the other’s patience and love after dinner.
~~~~~~~~~~
“Is this such a good idea?” Elladan turned slightly in his saddle to eye his brother, who was riding next to him. One week had passed since the discussion with their father. A mere day later the twins had left their home of Imladris, laden with a few of their belongings and weapons, for the journey to Mirkwood. Barely a week later they could just now make out the tall, aged beeches that made up the majority of the Greenwood, after leaving the Misty Mountains behind them. One more day and they would have reached their destination. Yet the twins still questioned whether this year in Mirkwood, a foster year they called it, would really bring out a strong alliance with the forest king and his heirs.
“Well we can’t turn back now,” Elladan replied, turning his attention back to the path in front of them as Arien sunk lower in the sky, announcing the approaching nightfall. A chill breeze rose, partly from the mountains they had just passed and partly from the approaching winter. The twins were glad of one thing; they would make it to Mirkwood long before the white cold settled in, and for that they were thankful. “We promised Ada we’d do this for him, so we must. Besides, we’ve come this far, and the Greenwood is only just in front of us.”
“It still makes me wonder.” Elrohir absentmindedly flicked a stray strand of hair off his shoulder as he spoke. “We’re either really going to enjoy this year and live it as if it were our last, or botch things up and hate it miserably.” He sighed heavily. “I would rather be hunting Orcs than doing this.”
“As would I, gwenneth. However, we are doing this for Ada. Besides, there will be plenty of Orc to hunt later. Perhaps we should view this foster year as a retreat. After all, we have been roaming the lands for nearly a century now, with barely any time to relax. My body is beginning to protest under all the strain of riding and hunting. Let us try to enjoy this year until something ruins it for us completely.”
“You’re right. Let’s try our best to make the most of this time away from home and in the company of our kinsmen.” Elladan flashed his brother a bright smile in agreement. Wordlessly, they reined their steeds in, dismounting to break camp for the night. Mirkwood was close, but the home of its king lay deep within its woods; it would take nearly half a day of riding before they reached their destination. As much as they would have liked to rest inside, in a warm bed away from the chilling winds, Elladan and Elrohir relished the last camping night they would have in a while.
Neither spoke as they unburdened their horses, one twin setting out bed rolls while the other lit a fire and divided the remaining lembas. They ate enough to satisfy themselves, leaving the rest for the morning. Still silent they lay themselves down to sleep, identical pairs of eyes lying awake for a few more moments to gaze up at the stars shining down upon them. They felt little of the cold, weary as they wer but stayed near one another and the fire nonetheless.
“Elladan?“
“Yes?“
“What do you think Thranduil’s children are like?” The elder twin thought on the question a moment. He wasn’t quite sure how to answer, so took his time formulating a rnse.nse. Elrohir waited patiently for his brother to speak, keeping his eyes fixed on the stars above. Eärendil shone down brightly on his beloved grandsons from above, providing the twins with a sense of love and comfort in the cold and lonely night.
“I expect they would look like the king,” Elladan began. “They might even have a few of his mannerisms. Mirkwood elves are said to be proud warriors, relying on their own strengths before asking for the help of others. His sons must take such an attitude, and maybe his daughter to an extent.”
“Do you think they are as arrogant as he?”
“I hope not. You know how I find distaste in such haughty, overbearing attitudes.” Elrohir answered with a curt nod. “I have heard stories that his sons are well respected among the border patrols, and the hands of his sons and daughter are sought after by many a prospective suitor and lady.”
“Sounds a great deal like us.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” Silence fell between the twins again as each became lost in their own thoughts.
“Elladan?”
“Hm?”
“Do you think Ada is trying to tell us something by sending us away for a year?” Elladan smiled, marveling, not for the first time, how their minds seemed to walk down similar paths.
“I think he is. ‘Settle down, stop chasing after Orcs and trying to get yourselves killed. Maybe fall in love with some nice elf. Just keep your heads attached to your necks for the next thousand years and I shall be content.’ Something like that, I believe.” He smiled again, hearing the amused chuckle coming from his double at the imitation of their father’s voice. Elladan continued in a more subdued tone once they had calmed down. “But I think he is trying to gain Thranduil’s alliance. By asking us to foster with the king, he’s hoping to gain a trusted comrade in arms and smooth over any rough edges his sons might have. Ada means well. He loves us and Arwen dearly.”
“I know he does.” Visions became blurry at the end of Elrohir‘s words, eyes turning blank as the elven sleep claimed them, the embers of the fire playing mischievously across their hair, turning chocolate strands into golden-red as it died down.
The twins slept the night away, weary from travel yet hidden from dark eyes. Ears were alert even in sleep for signs of an attacker, but none came, allowing the brothers to get a restful night’s sleep, their weapons unneeded yet within easy reach. As Arien approached to claim the sky yet another day, they awoke in unison. As silent as the night before, they packed their things, readied their horses, and set off into Mirkwood, nibbling on some lembas as they approached their foster home, steeling themselves for any sort of welcome they might receive.
TBC...
Translations:
Ada-father
Saes, gwenyn-nîn-Please, my twins
Pen-neth-Young one
A’maelamin-My beloved
Melethron-Love/lover
Gwenneth-Younger twin (endearment for Elrohir)
Summary: Tis the Third Age, 2610, 100 years after Celebrian’s passing into the West. In order to strengthen ties between Imladris and Mirkwood, King Thranduil and Lord Elrond have decided to foster the other’s children for a full year. With Arwen away at Lothlorien, the twins, Elladan and Elrohir, are left to endure their much unwanted stay in Mirkwood. They soon learn that Mirkwood’s darkness does not extend into the hearts of its inhabitants and, Elladan in particular, finds a kindred soul in one of Thranduil’s children.
Setting: Mirkwood (1 year), Imladris (1 year), Imladris/Feast and Council of Elrond, Rohan (arrival of northern Dunedain and Peredhil twins before Paths of the Dead), Minas Tirith (after War of Ring), Imladris
Characters:
-Imladris: Elladan, Elrohir, Arwen, Elrond, Glorfindel, Erestor
-Mirkwood: Legolas, Arondil, Celeron, Nimriel, Erinien, Thranduil
-Others: Estel/Aragorn/Elessar, Gimli
Disclaimers: Don’t owe them (except for Arondil, Celeron, Nimriel and Erinien), don’t claim to owe them (except for the aforementioned four), wish I did owe them but I’m not as brilliant as Tolkien was so I will settle for merely borrowing them for the purpose of my story. Lyrics are from the anime .hack//SIGN.
A/N: Elladan/Legolas story with pieces of Elrond/Glorfindel. I’ve tried keeping to keep as accurate as possible with the dates provided in Tolkien’s World From A to Z: The Complete Guide to Middle-Earth by Robert Foster; if there are any miscalculations in ages, please let me know.
I have created Elladan to be the elder twin though I don’t know which Tolkien had in mind as the eldest, I simply have based my decision on the fact that Elladan tends to be mentioned first when calling the twins by name. In reference to Legolas’ age, I don’t claim that to be accurate either. The only basis I have for making him nearly as old as the twins is a line from Two Towers where he is quoted to saying that being in ancient Fangorn forest makes him feel “as young as you children” as he speaks to Aragorn and Gimli.
As to the relationship between Thranduil and Elrond, I know they are not friends. For the purposes of my story, this fact holds partially true; the two elven lords hold a deep respect for each other and get along fairly well though they do not refer to themselves as friends.
I do not claim that all the contents of this story are entirely mine. I have been influenced by other slash writers, storieswhicwhich I highly recommend reading. If other contents of this story seem familiar or similar to something you have written, please accept my humblest apologies to not crediting you directly; I have read many slash stories as of late and only the longest, humorous and teary stories remain in my memory.
And, lastly, I am not fluent in Sindarian (though I hope to be some day), so I therefore accredit any Sindarian to the slash writers Ilye (Saving Grace and In Lieu of Love), Tyellas of Ansereg (Star-Crossed series) and McKenna Espenshade (Mending a Heart). There are others whom I don’t recall at the moment (my humblest apologies). I hope to later translate song lyrics into Sindarian, time and patience permitting.
Beta read by Ilye (thanks love!)
/ / denotes thoughts
~~~~~~~~~~ denotes changes in scene
Reviews, suggestions and comments are welcome. Flames will be ignored, as the content of this story should be made fairly clear seeing as where I am posting this.
Chapter 1: Reluctance
Summary: Elrond announces to his sons his decision of sending them to Mirkwood for a year; the twins are none too happy, but accept with reluctance.
“I refuse to go, Ada!”
“I too! We are not children, you cannot force us into this!” Elrond sighed in exasperation at his sons as he slowly tried in vain to sink slowly deeper into his chair, like the piece of furniture could hide him from the scornful looks he was receiving. He knew the twins would not take his news with good grace, but their firm resistance was beginning to wear on him after an already long and tiresome day. Passing a hand over his eyes, the elder peered over his slim fingers at his twin sons, weathered warriors standing tall and firm before him, defiance in their matching stormy gray eyes. Convincing them would be far from easy, but he had to try as best he could.
“Listen to me, both of you,” the lord of Imladris said in an even, calm voice, straightening just a little in his chair. “I know you would rather spend your time hunting down Orcs to avenge your mother as you have done faithfully all these years. You would probably prefer if I sent you to stay with your grandparents for the year; at least in Lothlorien you can roam, with the Galadhrim and help protect the borders. But this is something I need you to do for me; this is something vitally important. This will benefit us all, and perhaps mend any, Elbereth forbid, rifts that might have unknowingly occurred. Arwen is residing in Lorien at the moment, so I can ask no one but the two of you to do this for me. There is no one else I can ask this favor of.”
“But stay in Mirkwood? For a whole year?” It was difficult for Elladan to disguise the emotion flooding into his voice; in the end he gave up trying, disbelief and annoyance lacing every one of his words. “Ada, you and Thranduil are not exactly what everyone would call ‘friends’; I don’t know if there is a proper word to describe the…relationship you both have. The two of you rarely speak to each other in correspondences, even less when in one another‘s presence. Why are you insisting we go and stay in his realm for a whole year?”
“Because it will strengthen ties with Mirkwood. They are secluded and far to the north. They need a strong alliance now more than ever as the darkness grows in their forest.”
“Why can they not have ties with Lorien?” Elrohir reasoned, though he knew already the answer to his question. The Golden Wood was further from the Greenwood than Imladris was. It made more sense to establish an alliance with the Last Homely House than with the Woods of the Mellryn Trees. Besides, there were no longer heirs to Lothlorien with the twins’ mother gone over sea. An alliance between the Last Homely House and the Northern Woods would benefit more than merely the two parties involved. If such a bond between them could be established, then Mirkwood would have an indirect link to Lothlorien, felling two birds with a single shot from an elven bow.
“Can you not do this for me?” Elrond tried to argue, ignoring Elrohir’s question. “It is only one year. You will be trying to win the favor of Thranduil’s children, not the king himself. An alliance between heirs is more promising than one between the parents, especially after so many long years.
“I am not asking you to perform a miracle, merely to help our kin in what little way you can. Saes, gwenyn-nîn.” He looked each one of his sons in the eye, hard steel gray against not so rough pale charcoal. The lord silently implored them to heed his wishes, not as their leader and ruler but as their father. Elrond asked so little of his children, save their happiness, that it was difficult for any one of them to fully reject any requests he laid before their feet. With a collective sigh, the twins finally caved in.
“All right, Ada,” It was Elrohir who spoke. “We’ll go to Mirkwood as you ask. But that does not mean we will like it. Do not be too surprised if one year later you find yourself with two very grumpy sons on a warpath when we return.” A thankful smile graced the aged yet still youthful face as Elrond gestured for his sons to approach, wrapping them in a warm paternal embrace when they were close.
“Thank you, pen-neth--both of you.” He released them, the warm smile still etched across his features. “Now go and prepare yourselves for the journey. You leave tomorrow morn.” With a united nod, the twins turned, dark chocolate hair swirling around them as they left their father’s study to attend to their own matters. Elrond watched them leave, a faint sigh escaping him as a warm, pale hand descended onto his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.
“They were reluctant, but they love you,” came the voice of Elrond’s oldest friend and advisor turned lover. “In their hearts they would do anything for you; Arwen as well.”
“Aye, that I know, Glorfindel.” The blond nodded, a faint smile coming to him as he knelt next to his lord. Elrond gazed down at him, drinking in the sight of deep ocean-blue eyes hiding, a bit mischievously, behind stray strands of golden-blond hair. The hand moved from his shoulder as the Elda lord knelt, cupping Elrond’s knee instead, fingers trailing over wine-colored velvet robes in its path. They stared at each other for a long moment, when Elrond finally let out a sigh, fingers lifting to twirl into golden locks spilling over Glorfindel‘s shoulder. “Was I right in asking this of them? Was I right to agree to let them foster a year in a place they have no real desire in visiting, much less living there?”
“It is no secret that you and Thranduil are not the best of friends,” Glorfindel reasoned in a soothing voice. “In fact, it’s probably rather a stretch to call you friends at all.”
“Aye, but I respect him. He is a king of his own realm.”
“And you are a lord of yours, a well-known and great one at that. For those qualities he respects you. He respects you as the lord of an elven realm, as a hardened, seasoned warrior and as a great negotiator and lore master. You protect your people to the best of your abilities and they love you for doing such deeds; he can relate to that far too well.
“Aye he hates the Noldorion blood that flows within you; the same blood that flows within your children; the blood that began the Kinslayings too many years ago. But that is something he cannot help, no more than he can help his own bloodlines; the great king of Mirkwood should realize that if he does not already.”
“You are right, a’maelamin. Yet I am more concerned about his children.” He paused, during which time Glorfindel studied his features carefully, one pale hand reaching up to twirl fingers in the chocolate hair that both twins had inherited, mirroring the lord‘s own fingers still in his hair. Elrond sighed at the faint touch before continuing. “I have not met any of Thranduil’s children. I have heard he has three sons and a daughter. It makes me wonder how sim or or how different…from their father each one is…”
“Each of your cren ren are different from one another, from you--even the twins.”
“Exactly. But there are also similarities between us. I only hope that none of Thranduil’s children have inherited their father’s haughty arrogance. Elladan in particular does not take kindly to such an attitude. And they will be associating with one another on a daily basis.” As he finished speaking, his golden haired lover rose on his heels, planting a breezing kiss on his lips.
“The twins are grown, and they handle themselves well in battle and in diplomacy. You have taught them, as have Erestor and I. They will not bring dishonor to you, your house or themselves. All will be well, melethron, do not worry.” Elrond sighed yet again, leaning his forehead against Glorfindel’s, smiles crossing each of their faces.
“What would I do without you?” His lover merely smiled more brilliantly in return as they drunk in each other’s presence, forgetting the world around them. All that existed was one another and the quiet moment they were sharing together. Neither moved for the longest time until a chime sounded, signaling the start of the evening meal. In unison the two lovers rose, walking hand-in-hand to the dining hall. One reassured the other with merely his presence; the other smiled softly at the encouragement, leaning against his lover. Elrond resolved to show Glorfindel his appreciation for the other’s patience and love after dinner.
~~~~~~~~~~
“Is this such a good idea?” Elladan turned slightly in his saddle to eye his brother, who was riding next to him. One week had passed since the discussion with their father. A mere day later the twins had left their home of Imladris, laden with a few of their belongings and weapons, for the journey to Mirkwood. Barely a week later they could just now make out the tall, aged beeches that made up the majority of the Greenwood, after leaving the Misty Mountains behind them. One more day and they would have reached their destination. Yet the twins still questioned whether this year in Mirkwood, a foster year they called it, would really bring out a strong alliance with the forest king and his heirs.
“Well we can’t turn back now,” Elladan replied, turning his attention back to the path in front of them as Arien sunk lower in the sky, announcing the approaching nightfall. A chill breeze rose, partly from the mountains they had just passed and partly from the approaching winter. The twins were glad of one thing; they would make it to Mirkwood long before the white cold settled in, and for that they were thankful. “We promised Ada we’d do this for him, so we must. Besides, we’ve come this far, and the Greenwood is only just in front of us.”
“It still makes me wonder.” Elrohir absentmindedly flicked a stray strand of hair off his shoulder as he spoke. “We’re either really going to enjoy this year and live it as if it were our last, or botch things up and hate it miserably.” He sighed heavily. “I would rather be hunting Orcs than doing this.”
“As would I, gwenneth. However, we are doing this for Ada. Besides, there will be plenty of Orc to hunt later. Perhaps we should view this foster year as a retreat. After all, we have been roaming the lands for nearly a century now, with barely any time to relax. My body is beginning to protest under all the strain of riding and hunting. Let us try to enjoy this year until something ruins it for us completely.”
“You’re right. Let’s try our best to make the most of this time away from home and in the company of our kinsmen.” Elladan flashed his brother a bright smile in agreement. Wordlessly, they reined their steeds in, dismounting to break camp for the night. Mirkwood was close, but the home of its king lay deep within its woods; it would take nearly half a day of riding before they reached their destination. As much as they would have liked to rest inside, in a warm bed away from the chilling winds, Elladan and Elrohir relished the last camping night they would have in a while.
Neither spoke as they unburdened their horses, one twin setting out bed rolls while the other lit a fire and divided the remaining lembas. They ate enough to satisfy themselves, leaving the rest for the morning. Still silent they lay themselves down to sleep, identical pairs of eyes lying awake for a few more moments to gaze up at the stars shining down upon them. They felt little of the cold, weary as they wer but stayed near one another and the fire nonetheless.
“Elladan?“
“Yes?“
“What do you think Thranduil’s children are like?” The elder twin thought on the question a moment. He wasn’t quite sure how to answer, so took his time formulating a rnse.nse. Elrohir waited patiently for his brother to speak, keeping his eyes fixed on the stars above. Eärendil shone down brightly on his beloved grandsons from above, providing the twins with a sense of love and comfort in the cold and lonely night.
“I expect they would look like the king,” Elladan began. “They might even have a few of his mannerisms. Mirkwood elves are said to be proud warriors, relying on their own strengths before asking for the help of others. His sons must take such an attitude, and maybe his daughter to an extent.”
“Do you think they are as arrogant as he?”
“I hope not. You know how I find distaste in such haughty, overbearing attitudes.” Elrohir answered with a curt nod. “I have heard stories that his sons are well respected among the border patrols, and the hands of his sons and daughter are sought after by many a prospective suitor and lady.”
“Sounds a great deal like us.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” Silence fell between the twins again as each became lost in their own thoughts.
“Elladan?”
“Hm?”
“Do you think Ada is trying to tell us something by sending us away for a year?” Elladan smiled, marveling, not for the first time, how their minds seemed to walk down similar paths.
“I think he is. ‘Settle down, stop chasing after Orcs and trying to get yourselves killed. Maybe fall in love with some nice elf. Just keep your heads attached to your necks for the next thousand years and I shall be content.’ Something like that, I believe.” He smiled again, hearing the amused chuckle coming from his double at the imitation of their father’s voice. Elladan continued in a more subdued tone once they had calmed down. “But I think he is trying to gain Thranduil’s alliance. By asking us to foster with the king, he’s hoping to gain a trusted comrade in arms and smooth over any rough edges his sons might have. Ada means well. He loves us and Arwen dearly.”
“I know he does.” Visions became blurry at the end of Elrohir‘s words, eyes turning blank as the elven sleep claimed them, the embers of the fire playing mischievously across their hair, turning chocolate strands into golden-red as it died down.
The twins slept the night away, weary from travel yet hidden from dark eyes. Ears were alert even in sleep for signs of an attacker, but none came, allowing the brothers to get a restful night’s sleep, their weapons unneeded yet within easy reach. As Arien approached to claim the sky yet another day, they awoke in unison. As silent as the night before, they packed their things, readied their horses, and set off into Mirkwood, nibbling on some lembas as they approached their foster home, steeling themselves for any sort of welcome they might receive.
TBC...
Translations:
Ada-father
Saes, gwenyn-nîn-Please, my twins
Pen-neth-Young one
A’maelamin-My beloved
Melethron-Love/lover
Gwenneth-Younger twin (endearment for Elrohir)