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Greenleaf & Imladris 8 - Into Temptation	By : MPB Category: -Multi-Age > General Views: 2575 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Into Temptation
- 1
Title: Greenleaf & Imladris 8 - Into Temptation

Author: Eressë (eresse21@yahoo.com)

Pairing: Elrohir/Legolas

Rating: PG13

Summary: The thin line between friendship and desire isn't all that easy to cross.

Disclaimer: All characters are owned by Tolkien.

Author’s Note: You might call this an expanded prologue to the next story.

Prelude: Into Temptation

Imladris, Viressë TA 1602

The storm struck with scant warning. Vociferous thunder and awesome bolts of lightning alternated in malevolent harmony, heralding its imminent approach. Black clouds appeared with startling speed and released their burden of rain not by the bucket but by the barrel. And all the while, the wind howled with the volume of an invading army of Wargs.

Legolas sucked his breath in sharply at the cacophony outside. He was in his bedchamber, packing the last of his belongings. The morrow would find him on his way home after a whole winter’s stay in Rivendell. He jumped a little as a thunderclap seemingly boomed just outside his window.

Legolas was not ordinarily afraid of storms but this one had unleashed its force with a ferocity the prince had never experienced before. After all, Mirkwood’s dense canopy sheltered the Woodland Realm and the delved halls of Thranduil’s palace protected its royal family from the full brunt of any storm no matter how strong.

He’d thought the vale would not be overly affected, expecting the hills around it to blunt the force of any maelstrom. But this one had descended with full strength on the narrow valley itself and now the prince found himself struggling with a fear so primal it shook him to his very core.

Sweet Eru, he was a grown Elf! Surely a simple storm was nothing to get so anxious about. He staunchly pushed down his apprehensions and continued with his task. A veritable lightning show followed by a thunderous crash dashed his resolve to bits, making him jump in fright. Legolas could actually see the bolts right outside his window as they snaked their way down from the unrelentingly dark skies. He almost cried out when he heard an explosion outside. He stared out his window in shock.

In the distance the archer espied a burning tree. It had obviously been struck by lightning. The torrential rains were already dousing the flames leaving naught but a smoking ruin of a tree but the sight unnerved Legolas nonetheless. He had seen lightning-struck trees in Mirkwood, their branches scorched and blackened and trunks singed and blistered. But he had never actually witnessed one burning away in the aftermath of a strike. He shivered at the thought of what would happen if anyone were caught out in the open in this treacherous weather.

Shaking slightly, he tried his best to ignore the storm and its ferocious offspring. But then his chamber lit up with eerie brilliance then seemed to shake with a terrible drum roll of thunder. Legolas gave up trying to be brave and dashed out of his room. He headed straight for the bedchamber closest to his.

Elrohir looked up in surprise to see Legolas at his door looking very unlike his usually unflappable self. The younger twin was reading a thick tome when he noticed the prince’s presence. He set the book aside and turned in bed to take stock of his friend.

“Legolas, what is wrong? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost,” he said.

“Nay, not a ghost,” Legolas mumbled. “'Tis—‘tis just that—do you think this storm will last through the night?’

Elrohir shrugged. “Most likely. Why do you ask?”

A flash of lightning lit up the chamber as if it were day and was immediately followed by a deafening crash of thunder that made the glazed panes of Elrohir’s windows rattle. Legolas could not help flinching visibly, a fact Elrohir did not fail to notice. He stared at his friend’s suddenly pale countenance.

“You’re afraid of the storm?” he blurted out incredulously.

Legolas glared at him indignantly but, unfortunately, the effect was lost when he started and winced on the heels of another monstrous thunderclap. Torn between amusement and sympathy, Elrohir decided on the latter sentiment and shifted to one side of his large bed.

“Never mind, come here,” he grinned, lifting one side of his blanket.

His face flaming with embarrassment, Legolas accepted the twin’s invitation nonetheless. Reminding Elrohir of a scared Elfling, the archer hurried over to the bed and scooted under the proffered cover.

Elrohir looked down at him wonderingly. The prince lay huddled, facing him, his eyes closing tightly every time thunder or lightning struck. "'Tis only a storm, Legolas,” he said comfortingly. “Surely you have experienced storms in Mirkwood.”

Legolas sighed woefully. “Aye, but not like this. My father’s halls are not as exposed as your home and the forest shelters us to a great extent.” He shuddered as the wind’s howling increased to an intolerable din. He bit his lip and looked up at Elrohir. “You must think me such a coward,” he said shamefacedly.

Elrohir chuckled understandingly. “Nay, we all have our share of fears. As you say, we are more exposed to the elements and you are not used to it. Be thankful that this is a vale and not the open plains. That would be even worse.”

Legolas nodded and tried to calm himself. But another explosive thunderclap foiled his attempt. Elrohir literally felt the mattress bounce as the archer almost jumped in bed. The twin shook his head, swallowed his laughter with some difficulty, and slid down beside the shaking prince.

"'Tis all right, Calenlass,” he cooed, stroking his friend’s arm.

Legolas looked at him as if he were a safe harbor in which he could anchor his frail boat. “Elrohir?” he quavered, his face even redder than the twin thought possible. “I know I will never live this down but—but will you hold me?”

A dark eyebrow lifted in surprise followed by a chuckle. “Very well, gwador neth.”—young sworn brother. “If it will comfort you,” he grinned.

He obligingly drew Legolas close, holding him against his chest as he would a child. As the rains continued to lash raucously at the sturdy walls of the Last Homely House and the elements ceaselessly made their presence violently known, the Mirkwood Elf clung even more tenaciously to his friend. Suppressing his snickers, Elrohir ran his hand idly through the prince’s fair hair and stroked his back and shoulders.

He did not know precisely when his feelings about the situation changed. Between one moment and the next he suddenly became all too aware of Legolas’ body pressed against his. It did not help that he was clad in naught but thin night trousers as was his habit. Elrohir felt his breath shorten and his heart begin to race. A slow heat kindled within him.

No, this cannot happen! Not now! He looked down at the prince, wondering if he had noticed his reaction, hoping he had not and worrying that he had. But the golden-maned Elf was too absorbed in quelling his own emotions to take notice of his friend’s. Elrohir blew his breath out in relief. Now, if only Legolas did not move any closer.

That hope was foiled when a veritable display of electrical energy gone mad erupted outside succeeded by a horrendous clap of thunder, louder than all its predecessors. Gasping in shock, Legolas ducked his head into the crook of Elrohir’s neck and flung his arm around the Rivendell Elf. Elrohir winced at their perilous proximity.

The prince had practically draped himself over the younger twin in his efforts to be as close as possible to the reassuring presence of his friend. Now they were virtually chest-to-chest, their lean hips and groins pressed together, their long legs entangled beneath the blanket. Cursing to himself, Elrohir strove desperately to get his wayward body under control.

To his horror, he felt the heat concentrate in one particular spot, pooling insidiously to animate the one particular part of his body that he could not, should not, allow to spring to life. Frantically, he tried to move away from Legolas before the other felt the difference because, by Elbereth, if things went any further, only a brainless Orc would not!

Legolas lifted his head and looked at him, frowning. “Why are you moving away?” he asked fretfully. “Am I bothering you?”

Elrohir stared at him for a second. “Nay, of course, not,” he managed to answer. “Only—only maybe I should—um—ask Elladan to join us.”

Legolas looked at him in surprise. “Elladan?”

“Well, yes. We could—er—place you between us,” Elrohir replied, rapidly improvising along the way. “You would feel more secure that way, wouldn’t you?” Legolas hesitated then nodded. “Good! Stay here. I won’t be long.”

Tucking Legolas in securely, he hurriedly threw on a robe then raced to his brother’s bedchamber. It was with great relief that he found his twin awake, writing a letter at his desk. Without so much as a by-your-leave, he strode up to Elladan, snatched the quill from his fingers and hissed: “You have to come and stay with me tonight! Legolas is afraid of the storm and got into bed with me. I was comforting him but something has changed and now I need you to join us before I do something stupid!”

Elladan gaped at him in bewilderment. Not only had his brother not made any sense, he had managed to do so without stopping for breath. “Slow down, gwanneth!”—younger twin—he exclaimed. “What has changed and what stupid thing might you do and what has Legolas got to do with anything you just said?”

Elrohir paused to take a deep breath. “I let him get into bed with me because the storm frightened him. I beg you do not laugh about it now!” He drew in another breath. “He asked me to hold him which I did but he got even closer and I felt something happen to me and now I just know I will do something terrible if you do not join us!”

Feeling a little breathless himself after trying to keep up with his twin’s last strung-together sentence, Elladan placed a firm and calming hand on his brother’s arm. “What terrible thing will you do if I don’t go with you?” he asked.

Elrohir snapped out of his near-hysterical state. Dark eyes wide with anxiety and shoulders taut with tension, he let his breath out and whispered: “I might try to seduce him.”

Elladan stared at him in shock. “Ai, Elrohir, you’ve really done it this time!” he gasped.

The younger twin glowered at him. “Is that all you can say?!” he bellowed. “Look, we are taking too long as it is. Legolas is probably quaking under my blanket this very minute wondering why I have not returned. You must come now!”

He yanked his brother out of the chair and hauled him along to his own room. Elladan protested all the way but a sharp glare silenced him when they came to Elrohir’s door.

They entered and found Legolas curled up under the covers, flinching with every thunderclap. The prince looked vastly relieved when Elrohir slid back into bed beside him. The twin stared impatiently at his brother who stood uncertainly by the bed.

“What are you waiting for? A formal invitation? Get in!” he ordered Elladan.

Just as a befuddled Elladan began to slide under the blanket, an ear-splitting thunderclap rattled the windowpanes. Legolas half-yelped and dove into Elrohir’s arms again. Elrohir gasped as his groin responded almost at once to the renewed contact between their bodies. The younger twin frantically looked at his brother with an expression that all too plainly pleaded for Help!

Elladan stared back at him in sudden comprehension. He quickly bent over the trembling prince and soothingly crooned, “Legolas, gwador, you don’t have to cling to Elrohir. We’ll keep you in the middle, see?” He coaxed the prince into relinquishing his tight hold on the younger twin. “Elrohir will hold you if that is what you want, all right? Now, lie back and relax. That’s it.”

Face flushed with even greater embarrassment, Legolas acquiesced to the older twin’s suggestions and settled back against the pillows. Inwardly sighing with relief, Elrohir rolled onto his side and placed an arm loosely over him.

Sandwiched between the warm bodies of the brothers, comforted by Elladan’s murmured words of encouragement and Elrohir’s protective arm around him, Legolas finally managed not to take too much notice of the storm outside. After a while, he slipped into relatively peaceful slumber though he still clutched at Elrohir’s arm even in his sleep.

The twins looked at each other. Elrohir heaved a troubled sigh while Elladan reached across and clapped a consoling hand on his shoulder. With a final glance at the golden prince between them, they settled down and finally fell asleep themselves.

The following morning dawned bright and cheery, an astonishing reversal of the night’s tormented paroxysms.

When Elrohir failed to show up for the morning meal, Elladan went in search of him. He found him in the Hall of Fire, huddled in an armchair staring morosely at the newly stoked flames in the great hearth.

“Are you all right?” Elladan asked as he came up to his brother.

Elrohir shrugged listlessly. “I do not know. I do not think so.”

Elladan frowned then squeezed himself into the chair beside his twin. Elrohir yelped protestingly. “You are not that thin, gwaniaur!”—older twin!—he complained. “Get out, I cannot breath.”

Elladan only grinned and stuffed himself even further into the chair. “So, what exactly happened to you last night?” he queried.

Elrohir stopped wriggling and went still. He then groaned and sat back in frustration. “I wanted to bed him, Elladan,” he said almost angrily. “Call it madness but I actually desired our friend!” He snorted with disgust at himself. “What is wrong with me? How could I even have thought of it?”

Elladan pursed his lips and studied his twin’s pained expression. “Was it simply a—physical response to his extreme nearness?” he asked at length. “Because if it was, all you need do now is tumble some willing maid. Or mayhap a strapping Elf?”

Elrohir shook his head. “I have never felt like this with any ellon—male Elf—before,” he said. “Lustful enough to bed them, aye, but not this—this need.” He glanced at Elladan, his eyes dark with worry. “I do not think ‘tis mere desire for just any body, muindor.”—brother. “I think ‘tis Legolas himself.”

The older twin pursed his lips and drew in a deep breath. “I have long suspected this,” he bit out. “Indeed, I feared it. But you always denied it, gwanneth, you claimed ‘twas not so!”

“I did not know what I felt, Elladan!” the Elf-knight cried. “I swear by all that’s holy, I did not!”

Elladan insisted: “You felt something before last night. I know it. I would see it in your eyes, hear it in your voice though I did not dare think on it.”

Elrohir shivered then nodded. “I thought ‘twas just a passing fancy of mine. You know I have always thought him beautiful even by the measure of our people but it was just that. What’s a little admiration between friends after all?” He grimaced. “I thought I could control it but it seems that isn’t the case. I can no longer deny it.”

“But what changed? This epiphany could not have happened in an instant. What brought it about?”

The younger twin hesitated then looked at his brother with haunted eyes. “That night we saw them? Remember?”

They had always been so close that they oft knew each other’s thoughts even before they were uttered. Elrohir’s cryptic words were enough fodder to help bring Elladan’s swirling speculations to an abrupt conclusion. His eyes widened. “O Valar, Elrohir. You realized how you felt about him because of that?”

Elrohir sighed despondently. “I tried so hard not to dwell on it. Indeed, I told myself ‘twas but a reaction to what we saw. But now… Ai, Elladan, what should I do?”

The older twin blew his breath out. He reached over and put an arm around his brother, patting his shoulder comfortingly. “Mayhap... mayhap you should tell Legolas about this.”

Elrohir snorted at the suggestion. “That is the worst idea you have ever come up with yet.” He shook his head vehemently. “He must never know. I will not mar our friendship for so small a reason as my base needs.”

“Base needs, tôr neth?”—younger brother? “You could never feel anything base for those you love.”

“You give me far more credit than I deserve.”

“Nay, I speak the truth.”

“Nevertheless, we will not mention this to him. Please, keep this a secret?”

Elladan frowned then reluctantly nodded. "'Tis against my better judgment but for now I will hold my tongue,” he agreed. “But please take care, Elrohir. I do not want you to get hurt.”

Elrohir was about to reply when the doors to the hall opened and a slender figure entered hesitantly.

“Elladan? Elrohir?”

Elladan gestured to the Mirkwood prince. “Over here, Legolas.”

The archer approached them looking somewhat flustered. “I want to thank you for what you did for me last night,” he said. “You must think me so foolish to be frightened of a mere storm.“

“We would never think thusly of you, ernil daur”—forest prince— Elrohir said. “As we agreed last night, you were unused to it. And as for our service, think nothing of it.”

Legolas still looked uneasy. “You won’t tell my brothers about it, will you?’ he asked anxiously.

The twins grinned at him. “Or any other soul,” Elladan assured him. “Our lips are sealed, gwador neth.”

The prince relaxed and smiled. “I am in your debt then,” he said. He gestured to the doors. “I have already taken leave of your father. My people await me outside. Will you not see me off?”

“Of course, we will see you—aah!” Elrohir had attempted to rise only to find himself unable to budge from beside his twin. Elladan had wedged them into the chair as tightly as a cork in a yet unopened bottle of wine. “Look at what you’ve done!” the younger twin growled. “Legolas, give me your hand!”

Chuckling, the prince grasped Elrohir’s hand and pulled as hard as he could. After a few seconds straining, the younger twin came free with an almost audible pop. His momentum brought him into near-collision with Legolas.

With a sudden jerk, Elrohir managed to avoid coming into full contact with his friend. He glared back at his brother for putting him into such a precarious situation once more. But Elladan was too busy choking on his own laughter to really care at the moment.

After a while, the twins walked with their friend to the debris-strewn, puddle-ridden courtyard. The prince’s retainers were already mounted and waiting. Legolas turned to the brothers and smiled gratefully.

“I still think ‘twas good of you to take care of me last night,” he said. “Hannon le, mellynen.”—Thank you, my friends.

“You’re very welcome,” Elladan grinned. “Until we meet again, Legolas.”

He hugged the fair-haired archer. Legolas then turned to Elrohir. Swallowing his unease, the younger twin returned the prince’s embrace.

“Safe journey, Calenlass nîn”—my Greenleaf—he murmured.

The brethren watched Legolas mount and lead the contingent away. As the Mirkwood party passed under the arch leading into the valley outside, he turned and waved to them. They waved back. The youngest prince of the Woodland Realm departed Rivendell, sheltered by the twins’ complicity, none the wiser about the change of heart that could one day alter his life in a way beyond anything he’d ever imagined.

******************

Glossary:

Viressë - Quenya for April

Calenlass - Greenleaf (Elrohir's pet name for Legolas)

The End
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Greenleaf & Imladris 8 - Into Temptation