The Double Sin | By : squirrelchaser Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 1476 -:- 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. |
Title: The Double
Sin
Author: Squirrelchaser (squirrelchaser12@yahoo.com)
Warnings: Slash/incest
(Elladan/Elrohir), product of an mpreg, and an end that I don’t want to give
away
Important: Tolkien
states that the Eldar (i.e.: elves like Glorfindel and Elrond) are able to tell
when two elves are bonded (and sex=marriage) – I did not just make that up. He
also states that elf children can walk, talk, dance and sing before they are
one year old (Morgoth’s Ring)
AN: takes place
after the War of the Ring, right before Elrond leaves for Valinor; the time
line of story is slightly skewed to make events of the story make sense (i.e.:
messages can’t travel that fast but you need to know what’s happening in
Imladris)
Disclaimer: Tolkien
owns these characters and I am not Tolkien. If the poor guy were alive and knew
half of what we did to his characters and story lines, he’d probably kill
himself.
~Thank you to Antoinette and Bambi Rae for
their invaluable beta reading~
The Double Sin
It
was the quiet, damp sort of afternoon with rain pattering softly in the
background that always made Elrond reflect on the past, which could make for a
joyful or sad passing of time.
One week, he thought, before
Celebrían and I are to see each other again for the first time in…well, a very
long time. The elf lord closed his eyes, swallowing hard. There is much I need to tell her…how will
she react when she learns that I will bring none of our children to her?
Slowly
Elrond continued his steps down a hallway, not knowing exactly where he was
going until he stopped at the corridor which ended in a vast, circular balcony
which looked out toward the Misty Mountains. There were two doors on either side of the
balcony, and Elrond chose the one to his right.
The
bedchamber of Elrohir had remained untouched since its inhabitant had gone.
~*~
“Elrohir has changed,” Elladan complained to
Glorfindel as they walked through the gardens one afternoon. “He does not eat
much and is distant and silent to me!”
The
golden haired elf looked benevolent. “It is obvious, is it not?”
Elladan
scowled. “No, it is not.”
“Can
you not tell; for he sings more often, and when he has not barricaded himself
in his room he wanders around with a ridiculous melancholy expression on his
face that can only mean one thing: Elrohir is love!” Glorfindel said
dramatically to an unconvinced and unimpressed Elladan.
“Not
so! He would have told me!” Elladan snapped peevishly, irritated at the very
notion of his brother falling in love without his knowledge. “I would have
known.”
“Elrohir
will come out of this or tell you before too long, I think.” Glorfindel nodded
and smiled down at him, but Elladan scowled again in return.
“I
will rouse him out of this, or prove you wrong Glorfindel!” the dark haired elf
declared peevishly, and turned to make his way to his brother’s room where
Elrohir had kept himself in seclusion for the past day and a half.
“Take
care,” Glorfindel called after him. Standing alone in the shade of a tree, the
golden haired elf frowned. Something did not feel right but he could not put
his finger on it, and Elladan’s determination to
change the situation made him certain that it would only lead to trouble.
Moments
later, reaching his destination, Elladan tried the entrance to his brother’s
room but found it locked. Impatiently Elladan rattled the door handle.
“Elrohir!” He yelled but there was no reply. “I know you are within. Open the
door!”
For
a long moment only birdsong through the open windows could be heard, but at
length the bolt turned and Elrohir opened the door. He licked his lips, not
quite meeting his brother’s identical grey eyes and said quietly, “What is it?”
“I…wanted
to see you,” he finished lamely, realizing he had no real purpose for coming.
Still
not meeting his gaze, Elrohir gave a short scoff, one
eyebrow raised in an expression much like his Adar as he turned and walked
further into his chamber with Elladan following. Elrohir sat down at the window
ledge, leaning against the frame and throwing one long leg over the side and
staring pensively out at the valley.
Elladan
was at a loss. To everyone else Elrohir was quiet, serious, nearly shy; Elladan
took great care to watch for his brother in public situations knowing how much
he loathed them. But only with his twin and his father was Elrohir verbal and
expressive, and until now Elladan had been in tune with nearly every thought
and emotion that had glanced through his mind through the bond they had shared
since birth. But as of late his insight had grown cloudy and he did not know
what to do; Elladan felt as if half his soul was slowly slipping away and he
was powerless to do anything about it. “It is so beautiful…today,” he began
slowly, unsure of where he was going. “I thought, maybe, we could go riding
and…hunt, perhaps?”
Finally
Elrohir turned his head and looked, with a guarded gaze, into his brother’s
eyes for the first time.
He has never been this silent to me! Elladan thought wretchedly. “Please?” he
added.
The
please seemed to do the trick; Elrohir swung his leg back inside and stood,
giving possibly the smallest of smiles. “As you will, my
brother.”
Elladan
smiled in satisfaction. That was a little more like the Elrohir he knew and
loved.
The
strides of their horses were matched as they flew across the narrow paths from
the valley to the wide open plains beyond Imladris. Elladan watched his brother
riding ahead in satisfaction; he could feel the happiness and relief emanating
from his twin as it always did when they were on horseback.
The
wideness of nature instead of the confines of the house seemed to bring a
healing change to Elrohir’s heart and soul, troubles seeming to become
forgotten as the day waned on.
The
rest of the afternoon was spent tracking a promising looking buck, but Elladan
had just notched an arrow to his bow and taken aim when there was a hand on his
arm. He lowered his aim and turned to see Elrohir looking at him with a strange
expression, one of fear and apprehension with a trace of dread. “Yes,” Elladan
said quickly. “He is too beautiful to slay. Besides,” he smiled. “Should we
bring down our query now that would bring an all too quick end to our
excursion!” And an end to this reprieve
from your withdraw.
“It
is so peaceful here,” Elrohir sighed, inhaling the scent of the greenery
surrounding him and Elladan could feel the pulse of the bond between them for
the first time in a great while.
He does not want to go back, Elladan sensed. “Let us spend the night out
here,” he suggested and Elrohir’s interest peaked. “We can bring down some
small game.”
“That
buck is too much for the two of us anyway,” Elrohir said as the graceful
creature meandered away through the trees, blissfully unaware of the peril he
had just escaped. “And I have some lembas in my pack. We are a little too late
in our decision-making to set snares in time for dinner, so we shall test our
archery skill on these swift rabbits, shall we?”
Smiling
back at his twin Elladan set the pace across the field and the hunt for the
creatures was on. He could feel his twin’s eyes on him as he drew back his bow
but was too preoccupied with the prey in front of him to pay it much heed.
Night
had fallen as they made camp, their small fire sending glowing sparks up into
the dark star lit sky.
Lapping
the last bits of juice from his fingers Elladan cast the remains of his dinner
aside and cocked his head to Elrohir, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully at the
far away look in his twin’s distracted gaze. At least he is eating again. “What is it, my brother?”
Elrohir
blinked, eyes coming back into focus. “What is what?”
Rising
and pacing a few steps forward, Elladan settled down right next to the long
form spread leisurely on the ground. “You, Elrohir,” he said gently but poking
his brother teasingly. “Today is the first time in many days you have been
yourself. Something has changed in you; you know I can feel it.” Elladan leaned
forward and set his chin on his brother’s knee, bringing his face inches away
from Elrohir’s.
“Yes,
I know you can feel it,” Elrohir said softly. Why must you look at me so earnestly?
“Will
you not tell me what is troubling you? Glorfindel thinks it is because you are
in love!” Elladan opened his mouth to scoff at the idea but stopped.
Pain
filled Elrohir’s grey eyes, and Elladan felt a stab of hurt flash through his
own heart. “What is it, what is it that makes you ache so?” Elladan immediately
became serious at his brother’s expression and grabbed the other’s long hands
in his own, alarm raising his voice a notch. “Oh, you must tell me, and we can
make it go away; we must, we always have,” he said desperately.
Elrohir
said in a strangled voice, bowing his head to their clasped hands, “I cannot
tell you. And no Elladan, we have not always been able to make it go away.”
Elladan
reached forward in an attempt to clasp his brother to him but Elrohir shook him
off and pushed him away, standing and striding out of the circle of light.
“Please,”
Elrohir trembled. “Please do not touch me.”
Hurt,
Elladan said frantically, trying to salvage some of the relief that the day had
brought, “I will not touch you or question you further tonight, if that is your
wish.”
I am sorry to injure you, but I must, Elrohir closed his eyes and raised his face
to the sky.
“Elrohir,
come back into the light where I can see you. You are frightening me,”
As
he was bid Elrohir returned.
Spreading
his cloak out on the ground next to him, Elladan patted it lightly and said,
“Sleep. There is no need to take watch; we are still well within Adar’s
protection.”
“What!!??” Elladan yelped, jumping out of his cushioned
chair. “Adar, surely you jest!”
Elrond
raised his eyebrows in confusion. “Surely Elrohir spoke to you ab– “
“NO!!!”
Elladan howled. “Not a word!”
Now
Elrond was even more confused. Yes, he had know that Elrohir had not been
himself lately but it was completely out of character for either twin to make a
small decision – let alone a large one such as this – without the other
knowing.
A
decision quickly firming in his mind Elladan crossed the room and wrenched the
door to his father’s study open. “Adar, consider all of Elrohir’s plans to
leave for the Grey Havens on hold for now, until you hear other wise.” With
these parting words Elladan stepped through the door and it slammed behind him.
“Elrohir!” he nearly shouted as he reached his brother’s room, throwing the unlocked
door wide and finding his brother stretched out on his bed. Crossing the room Elladan
jumped onto the bed, threw one leg over Elrohir and sat on him hard, pinning
his shoulders down with both hands. “I am not going to move from this spot
until you tell me why exactly in all of Arda you were making plans to sail for
Valinor.”
Elrohir
blinked. “To visit Amar?”
For
the first time that he could remember Elladan felt anger at his twin rising in
him. Giving his shoulders a small shake he snapped, “No jokes!”
Elrohir
could feel the mounting fury in his twin and he sighed in defeat. “Close the
door.”
“You
promise me you will take me into your confidence?” Elladan said fiercely, not
relenting.
“I
will tell you whatever you want to know.” He was released, and he sat up
against the headboard, watching Elladan close and lock the door before
returning to his spot on the bed. For the first time, Elrohir felt himself at a
loss for words for his brother, and he stared down at his hands clasped on his
bent knee, unsure of how and where to begin.
“What
is it that has hurt you so bad you sail for the Undying Lands, without a word
to me?”
The
upset in Elladan’s voice clenched Elrohir’s heart so painfully that he let out
a sob.
Elladan,
heart breaking at the noise of distress he had not heard from anyone in a long
time, impulsively moved forward and took his brother in his arms, relieved when
Elrohir did not fight him. “Tell me all,” he begged when the twin remained
silent as he rocked him in his arms. “Tell me so that I may help you bear this
burden,”
At
length Elrohir drew a shuddering sigh. And
so the purging begins. “I love someone.”
Inwardly
Elladan gave a moan. Glorfindel had been right all along; he would have to make
sure and not tell him of that fact. Stroking his brother’s hair, Elladan
guessed: “And they do not return your love? Tell me who it is, and I will make
them love you!” he demanded.
Elrohir
laughed ruefully. “It is not so simple as that. They love me, but not as a
lover.” He pulled back slightly to look into Elladan’s eyes, letting his guard
down and their bond reopened, Elrohir allowing all of his unspoken words of
desire pour out through the bond they shared.
Such
longing poured into his soul, so much craving and want flooded into him that Elladan
gasped, suddenly unsure of where Elrohir’s yearning ended and his own began. Elladan
had never though of his brother or of males as such until now, but their souls
were so akin when the connection was open that the moment the possibility hit
him, his heart was lost, and Elladan did not have any intention of retrieving
it.
Feeling
comprehension dawn in his brother Elrohir said softly, “And that is why I must
go.”
“Oh.
I will go with you!”
“No.”
Shaking his head Elrohir said soothingly, “That would defeat the purpose, dear
brother. I go from you to escape this.”
Elladan
started to weep, clinging to his twin. “Our souls are as one; to part ways
would slay us!”
“So emotional, always so emotional my dear
brother.” Cradling his
dark head to his chest Elrohir murmured, “Better to die with your soul but without
your body, Elladan, than to have both and face banishment and to bring shame to
Adar.”
“Elrohir,
I do not care! Why must you be so reasonable? I want to bond to you and it is
selfish but; I do not care!”
The
look on his twin’s face was so earnest, so pleading, and the bond of
brotherhood between them was so intense that Elrohir broke and began to weep
also. “Do not ask that of me, of us; this double sin of male-male incest! When
we are slain by our kin we could not even pass to Mandos!” Elrohir struggled to
get up, to run away from his brother who clung to him so insistent and needy
but Elladan pinned him down, grabbing his face in his hands and kissing him in
a clumsy first attempt.
“Then
our Fëa would be without a home but we would be together, wandering but
together, for all time,” he whispered breathlessly, pulling back only slightly
so his breath tickled his twin’s face, his hands starting to snake up beneath
the hem of his tunic.
Beneath
him Elrohir let out a sob of defeat, of want, of mourning for the loss of life
they would never have and those that were left behind. “If we bond all would be
able to tell by looking at us; what is written in our hearts will be written in
our eyes…Adar will be shamed…how will we face them? How can we do this?”
“If
we do not and we are separated, we will die; if we bond, we shall be slain…” Elladan
feathered his ignorant lips over his brother’s once again. “Let us take this
one night that we have for our own; you are shaking, and I can feel the throb
of your soul, my brother. I know it is not from lack of want that you refuse.”
Elrohir
groaned at the thought of what they could have. “Must you always rush into
things?”
“It
has always been my way.” With great effort Elladan released Elrohir from his
grasp and backed slowly away to the door. “But if you are abject then let us do
this: tomorrow after evening meal and when all have gone to bed I will come to
you, and if you still desire to sail for Valinor, then you will leave once and
for all. If not, we will bond?” Elladan watched Elrohir close his eyes,
swallowing hard and he could feel him fighting to control the pulse of physical
desire raging between the two of them.
“And
if we bond, what then?”
Elladan
did not reply but Elrohir could feel his answer.
“Yes,”
Elrohir said softly. “Yes, you are right, but we must not do it in Adar’s realm.”
That
night, Elrohir shut the door to his chambers,
expecting to pace and fret over the decision that lay before him, but deep in
his heart he knew he had nothing to think about.
I am but half a soul without Elladan. I
would bind to him in body, for we are already joined in mind, and live a brief
second a complete person in sin, rather than depart for Valinor
and dwell as a shadow of myself, without Elladan. The elf smiled to himself.
Yes. Tomorrow night.
The
following morning Elrohir skipped the morning meal
and ignored the silvery chime that preceded it he headed out to the stable. He
had hope to spend the day astride Pelro and in welcome
solitude.
The
warm, sunny stable was nearly vacant as most of the horses had chosen to wander
freely through the sun bathed valley at their leisure. Licking his lips Elrohir
whistled, leaning on the stall door that opened into the stable aisle, waiting
for his black mare to come through the opposite end that opened into the
outside.
“Oh,”
Elrohir
turned to see Glorfindel coming into the stable and in turn whistled for
Asfaloth.
The
blond Elda turned and smiled. “I am surprised that you
are not with Elladan this morning. He has just left with Celro; perhaps you
will join him?”
Pursing
his lips Elrohir turned to stroke Pelro’s nose as she came to the stall and
nudged her elf expectantly. “Actually…I…thought I might spend my day indoors.”
He could not look Glorfindel in the eye; all of a sudden it seemed the Elda’s keen blue eyes would be able to see his
innermost thoughts…nearly as bad as Galadriel.
Shifting
his weight to one leg, Glorfindel surveyed the dark haired elf across from him.
“Something is not right, Elrohir. Your brother has noticed it, as well as your Adar
and I.” When Elrohir made no answer Glorfindel said
gently, “I know you are not accustomed to opening your thoughts and heart, but
–“
“You
stand correct,” Elrohir said sharply, turning to go. “I am not going to open my
heart and thoughts on this matter.”
Glorfindel
said nothing, sadness tugging at his heart as he threw one leg over Asfaloth
and they rode out into the lushness of the valley. “Go on,” he encouraged
Asfaloth, “This will be your ride today,” and at his elf’s prompting the white horse
nickered and took off into the valley.
In
the distance a dark figure on a horse raised an arm in greeting, and Asfaloth
took off toward it, eventually drawing abreast of Celro and the horses touched
noses. “Elladan,” Glorfindel greeted. “I just saw your brother leave the
stable.”
Elladan
scowled. “Elrohir is out riding? I think then I will go back inside,” he
started to nudge Celro with his heels.
“No,
Elrohir decided to not go out on a ride,” the Elda said slowly, wondering at this change in
the twins.
“Well,
then,” Elladan turned Celro around. “Let us stay out, and race over to the
nearest waterfall?”
Night
had fallen and Elrohir was perched in his window ledge, staring out at the sky
with his decision firmly in place. “Come in,” he called when there was a soft
knock at the door.
At
first Elrond said nothing as he stood beside his son in the starlight,
remembering the bitter sweetness of his wife’s passing to Valinor so many years
ago. “Elladan said to nullify your plans to go West, until I heard other wise
from you,” he started, smiling to himself as he remembered Elladan’s vehemence.
“I take it you have spoken with each other since yesterday morning?”
“We
have,” Elrohir did not turn to look at his father. “I will leave Imladris late
tomorrow morning.”
Elrond
lowered his head slightly. “You will not tell me why you chose to leave?”
“You
will find out tomorrow, Adar, perhaps.”
“As
you wish then. Goodnight, Elrohir.” Elrond turned to leave, but felt his son
stand and embrace him from behind.
“Goodnight
and goodbye, Adar. I will miss you.”
Turning
the elf lord returned Elrohir’s embrace. “I will miss you as well.”
Elrohir
sat patiently in his window and listened as the sounds of the house grew
quieter, the singing of lore gradually turning to the gentle purr of a single
lullaby, and Elladan slipped into his room as silently as a shadow. The latch
caught with a soft click, and Elladan leaned against the wooden paneling,
waiting, reaching out to his brother with his soul.
“Lock
the door, Elladan,” Elrohir said without turning from the window.
Hope
mixed with dread flared in Elladan’s heart as he did as he was bid, turning the
small latch, locking the entrance against any possible intrusion. Crossing the
room to the window he sat beside Elrohir, who gazed pensively out at the stars.
“Look,
there is Eärendil…shining bright as always.” Elrohir
paused and licked his lips. “Do you think he can see what we are doing?”
“If
he does, I hope he does not tell Adar.”
Elrohir
turned to look at his brother, taking one hand. “I will bond with you tonight, Elladan,
not sailing for Valinor, and am ready and willing to accept what must follow
our union.” Reaching behind him he drew the curtain so that the bright
starlight glowed faintly behind the thick panel. “And so we begin our end.”
Elladan
had moved to sit on the bed and was reaching for the tiny clasps that ran along
the hidden seam at his shoulder but Elrohir, moving off his perch at the
window, raised his hand. “No, brother, do not rush into this,” he reached the
bed. “It would be my pleasure.”
Inexperience
slowed and made their endeavor clumsy, but love and inquisitiveness made up for
tangled limbs and awkward kisses. They had never been so close, chest to
heaving chest, hair intermingling, long hands gripping identical flesh, yet
that first night they had never been thrown into such sharp juxtaposition.
Elladan
fought the ecstasy that made him tremble and pant, feeling Elrohir
trembling for a very different reason below him, mewing softly in pain. “My
brother,” Elladan whispered, raising a shaking hand to smooth the wayward locks
of hair that clung to Elrohir’s lips.
“Ai,
Elladan,” Elrohir moaned, throat bobbing and eyes
closing as he swallowed. “It hurts.”
“Do
you wish me to stop?” Elladan said, shifting his hips
slightly and giving a cry at the rush of pleasure the movement brought.
Elrohir’s head fell back into the mass of pillows.
“N-no…be gentle.”
“Elladan,”
Glorfindel knocked gently on the door. “Elladan,” when there was still no
answer and the Elda opened the door slowly, to be greeted by an
empty bed chamber awash in the pale glow of the dawn. Where is Elladan? “Did Elladan and Elrohir both leave for the
Havens? They did not bid farewell to me.” With a half mock expression of insult
Glorfindel poked his head into Elrond’s sitting room, where the elf lord was
pouring over a large book with Erestor.
With
a frown Elrond looked up. “Elrohir said that he would be leaving this morning,
but I did not know that Elladan had chosen to go. But I suppose it is not a
great surprise, as they are inseparable. I will write the Havens to inform them
of both my sons’ impending arrivals.”
The
one night that they could have together, breaking all acknowledgement of
kinship as it was overridden as they joined as lovers, ended as the glow of
Eärendil was replaced by the more insistent light of the sun as dawn crept over
Imladris.
“My
brother,” Elrohir stopped his horse at the edge of the dell. “Are you ready to
say farewell?” Solemnly the twins gazed down at the valley, sparkling in the sunlight
as a haven in the wilderness, a place where they were now not safe. Good bye, Adar; we do this because we love
you. “Where shall we go, to finish?”
“The
Misty Mountains. We will not be found there, even when all
is done.”
With
a sigh Elrohir agreed. “Yes. Have you a plot to get past the border guards?
Other than,” he said quickly, glancing side long at his twin, “Riding really
fast?”
“You
do not think that they will simply let us pass?”
“No,
for they will see in our eyes exactly what we fear they will see,
and our journey to the Mountains will be unnecessary.”
For
a short while they rode in pensive silence.
For all the fear of discovery and hiding we
face for the next days to come, until we reach our destiny, this will be the
few last days that I treasure. I love and am loved freely, and that is all one
needs, Elladan reflected,
and as Elrohir looked over to him and smiled he knew his brother could hear his
thoughts and felt the very same.
Dawn
of the next day found the elves nearing the border, and Elladan said slowly, “I
have a thought as to get past the guards. We will go separately and in
different places, for surely if we went together we would be given away, but if
we went independently it would only be known that we were bound.”
“Then
we shall separate and meet at the mouth of the Pass of the Misty Mountains?”
“Yes,
that is what should be best.” Elladan squeezed his twin’s arm briefly.
“Farewell,”
“But
not for long,”
What do you mean, Cirdan, that my sons have
not arrived to the Grey Havens? Elrond
glared at the parchment unrolled before him on his desk, but it did not change
the words it bore. Perhaps they are just
late…perhaps they ran into trouble on the journey there.
“Greetings,
son of Elrond,” a young Imladris border guard raised one hand in salute as the
black mare strode past, arching her neck and tossing her head for she was in
high spirits. “You have business through the Misty Mountains again? Where is your brother? I have rarely
seen you apart.” He smiled conversationally as his father, who was on
horseback, approached him from behind.
Elladan
narrowed his eyes and sighed. “Business, indeed,” he replied without smiling. I do not like the way the elder looks at me
for he can see what the other does not, Elladan thought as he met the eyes of
the older, wiser elf, and looked back into the merry, naive eyes of the first.
“It is nothing of grave concern though,”
The
young elf nodded a little bemused as the dark haired twin continued on under
the afternoon sun. It was not like Elladan to be so reserved; he usually
enjoyed a brief stop and conversation while it was Elrohir who preferred to
continue briskly on his way, but this time Elladan did not stop or dismount.
“I
had not heard word that the son or sons of Elrond had married to any, but it would
not be surprising as they are more than of age.” When his son looked at him in
surprise, he smiled at his innocence and continued, “Could you not tell from
his eyes? Hmm. At any rate, I came to inform you that I am riding back to
Imladris as it is time for the weekly report.”
“Oh,
Lindir has a message from Mirkwood that must be taken as well. He was hoping
that you could…?”
“Thank
you, I shall stop and see Lindir before I leave.” The older elf nudged his
horse and continued on his way. He had not traveled far when there was the
approaching sound of hoof beats, light on the springy turf. Surprised, the elf
turned. “Elladan! No, Elrohir,” he called, as the other twin emerged through
the trees.
Elrohir
looked to see where the voice hailed from, and nodded briefly in greeting
before clicking his tongue to his black mare and continuing on at a slightly
increased pace.
It
was not unlike Elrohir to be brief in his exchange with the border guards for
it was known that he opened to few. What surprised the elf was the new
knowledge that both the sons of Elrond had been bound in marriage, and he had
heard no news of either’s bonding. He shrugged to himself. Still, even under
the tranquility of the late afternoon, something nagged at the back of his mind
that he could just not place.
Behind
him Elrohir’s mind was racing. Once out of sight the dark haired elf leaned
forward and whispered to his mare and she sprang forward with new urgency.
He knows I am bound, Elrohir said to himself, anxiety growing in
his chest. Does he know it is Elladan?
Worries,
anxiety, apprehension tumbled over each other in his mind, creating a hard knot
of fear that turned into irritation as he reached his destination to wait.
And
wait.
Has something happened? No, that cannot be
for I would have felt it…What is it then? What could be keeping Elladan? Dismounting Elrohir sank down into the
grass, fidgeting restlessly. Picking a daisy from its tender stem he pulled one
petal off after another, rolling the velvety white between his thumb and
forefinger and flicking it away into the grass. No, nothing is wrong for Pelro is calm. She could sense distress in her
twin as I can in mine, and we are both at peace.
The
sun was sinking in the West when finally a figure appeared over the crest of
the hill. Elladan cantered forward to where his twin stood, grinning. “You
worry too much, my brother.”
“I
worry when you are late,” Elrohir reprimanded gently.
“It
was necessary to take the long path to keep encounters to a minimum.” The dark
haired elf put a tender hand on his brother’s shoulder, leaning forward
earnestly as careless, silky locks that blew around his eyes. “I trust you had
no difficulty?”
For
brief moment of hesitation, Elrohir thought of the elderly border guard who now
rode back to Imadris. “No,” he reached up and smoothed away the locks from his
brother’s face. “No difficulty. Let us take a brief rest before we continue on
our journey.”
In
a temper fueled by concern Elrond crumpled the message from Cirdan and threw it
across the room. “My sons are unaccounted for. Cirdan says that they have not
arrived, and it has been a week. It should not have taken a week for them to
get to the Havens, so where are they?!” He glared at Erestor who raised his
hands and shrugged helplessly.
“If
it would put your mind at ease, Elrond, a party could be sent out.”
“Yes,”
Elrond said briskly without looking to the tall, lean elf that had just entered
the room. “What news from the western borders?”
“You
said your sons, Lord Elrond, are missing?”
“Yes,”
snapped Elrond. “Why?”
“They
just passed through our guards but a day ago; I was leaving when Elladan then
Elrohir came through…or maybe it was Elrohir then Elladan. I do not remember
correctly.”
Looking
up peevishly the elf lord demanded, “What do you mean they passed through you
western borders? They are to head East!”
“Unless
your identical set of twins has another identical set of twins, my lord, Elladan
and Elrohir were heading West. And there is a message newly arrived from
Mirkwood.”
Erestor
accepted the message for a very irate elf lord, broke the seal, unrolled it,
and read aloud:
To Lord Elrond, ruler of Imladris,
As time is of the essence, I will make my
message brief.
It has long been established that Imladris
has been a haven. I write to warn you against giving refuge to Legolas who is
currently fleeing from Mirkwood as we speak. If he should arrive and seek
sanctuary, I request of you to hold him until the necessary arrangements can be
made for him to be returned to his proper place and brought to justice for an indecent
bonding. You will be compensated for any spoil that may incur from his
confinement.
Be warned that I will stop at nothing to see
the former Prince returned, should you choose to forgo my warning and offer him
protection.
From Alindel, advisor to the royal family of
northern Mirkwood
“Hmm.”
Grunted Erestor. “A kin-bonding. That is most outlawed indeed.”
The
border guard started. An indecent
bonding… a kin-bonding! Something in his mind clicked. Elladan and Elrohir…that is what has been bothering me…but surely no,
no that could not be! Nervously the elf cleared his throat, first quietly,
then slightly louder.
At
the noise the elf lord turned to him and growled.
“Lord
Elrond, forgive my bold question, but are your sons bound to any?” the elf
asked with a sinking feeling in his chest.
“I
think you speak of my daughter, who was bound this past summer,” Elrond replied
curtly.
The
elf lord looked so incensed the border guard dared not speak his suspicions. It was just my mind, he assured himself.
That is all, for surely such a thing
could not take place in Imladris. Mirkwood perhaps for the elves there are
strange, but not Imladris. Despite his reasoning doubt still lingered in
his mind, and the guard made for the door. Perhaps
it would be best to find and retrieve the sons of Elrond.
Erestor
narrowed his eyes at the border guard and followed him out of the room. “You
know something,” he said accusingly, grabbing him by the forearm and whirling
him around. “Tell me what you know of Elladan and Elrohir, or else you will
answer to Lord Elrond.”
Bowing
slightly the border guard replied, “Pray do not ask me now Lord Erestor, for it
is too soon to express my ungrounded doubts. Do not fear for the twins. I will
ride after them and confirm my suspicions but please do not question me deeper,
and for the love of the stars above, do not breathe a word to Lord Elrond. But,”
he added, nearly as an after thought, “I am sure it is nothing.”
Pursing
his lips the advisor nodded. “Be quick.”
In
the concealing branches of a tree a lithe figure leapt from limb to limb,
starting in surprise at the two new additions to the Misty Mountains that this evening had brought. For the
briefest of moments his bow string stretched taunt, not hesitating a heart beat
when notching an arrow and taking aim. Then he caught sight of their eyes,
filled with merriment and love as they stumbled off the path, and his heart
flew to his throat as he lowered his weapon.
There
was hardly a rustle in the leaves of the tree as the figure sprang off into the
distance lightly weeping inwardly for the sight of the young lovers awakened a twinge
in his broken heart.
“Ai!
Brother, you will be the end of me,” Elladan laughed, rolling off of Elrohir
onto his back, closing his eyes and reveling in the softness of the grass
between two large boulders. “No,” he laughed again when Elrohir grasped him
about the waist. Picking up a discarded tunic Elladan threw it into his twin’s
face. “Dress…dress now or we shall never…” he paused and a shadow crossed his
face. “We must do what we have come to do.”
Looking
grave and a little sad, Elrohir said softly, “You do not think we are far
enough into the mountains?”
“Elrohir,
we are only a few steps off the path!”
“But
you would not let me go any further!” Elrohir poked his brother pulling on his
tunic as he was bid. Sitting up he let out a long, shrill whistle that carried
on the wind, a call for the twin mares Pelro and Celro whom had wandered off to
graze and possibly take a leisurely roll.
Two
sets of keen elf also ears picked up the call.
Yes that is them, the border guard thought to himself and
urged his horse forward at a faster pace.
Are those the two from earlier? Thought the slender elf
that still perched in the branches of the trees that clustered in the peaks of
the Misty Mountains and lined the Mountain Pass. To satisfy his curiosity he started to
meander through the branches back the way he came, wondering at why in the name
of the stars that the sons of Elrond were out in the wilderness, without their
clothes…
“There
they are,” Elladan smiled as the black mares came trotting back, each going to
her respective elf and blowing in their face. “Are you ready to go again,
girl?” he stroked the soft muzzle affectionately before springing to her back.
“You will know what to do with your selves, love, when we are gone.”
Looking
pensive once again, Elrohir placed one hand gently on his brother’s arm. “Not
too far now. Come, we must go.” Beside him Elrohir could feel Elladan taking
careful note of the world around him, every bird song, every breath of air that
drew his hair away from his face as if Nature herself took delight in running
her hands through the dark silky length. He
will miss Middle Earth more than I; he chooses to give up so much… “Elladan,”
Opening
his eyes from smelling the clean wind Elladan turned to his brother. “Yes?”
I love you.
Elladan
smiled. I know. And I love you as well.
“Do
you regret –“
“No!”
Elladan’s reply was vehement. “Not for a heartbeat, even though we go to our
doom.” Elladan paused, reaching out and stroking his brother’s face with his
fingertips. In that gentle touch, the feeling of the supple warm skin in his
hand, Elladan for got that this was why they were fleeing, why they would never
be accepted by even their father. Gazing into each other’s eyes they were lost
in a trance where only the other existed, where love knew no right or wrong,
and a world in which they were free.
“Sons of Elrond!”
Elrohir
nearly fell from his seat at the call that echoed from the boulders around
them, preceding the sounds of hoof beats as the twins were jerked rudely back
into authenticity. Elladan, what shall we
do? They shall find us!
Stand firm, brother. Patience; our fate
comes though perchance not by our hand. “Hail! You are the border guard from Imladris, are you not?”
Lifting his chin and raising his voice Elladan called out as a figure came into
view, “May I inquire as to what business you have so far from the borders of
the valley, alone, and clearly in great haste?”
The
guard drew his winded mount up a few paces from where the twins sat side by
side in the lushness of nature. “I seek the two of you,” he replied, eyes
searching their faces carefully. “Your father is troubled by your absence; I
search for an answer to the question: why did you not depart for the Havens as
it was originally thought?”
A
slight nod from his brother and Elrohir said quietly, “From your eyes I think
you already know the answer to that question.”
With
a sigh the other admitted, “Yes. I see you together I find my suspicions were
confirmed and there is no need for me to ask aloud.” The guard drew his sword
and his face looked grieved as he slid off his horse. “I am truly sorry sons of
Elrond for the grief it shall cause your family, but it must be as law of the
Valar states.”
“I
find it strange that you feel you must slay us yet there is no repugnance in
your words,” Elladan murmured.
“I
find your act more than distasteful; I find my duty more than distasteful, but I
have come to know and respect you, sons of Elrond, and what grieves me most is
the reaction your father will have when he finds out.” With a shake of his head
and a furrowing of his brow the elf demanded, thinking of his own son, “Did the
two of you think of any but yourselves when you…”
“No,
Elladan,” Elrohir said quickly as his brother put one hand to his own hilt.
“For we knew what fate would befall us if we were found out.” Turning to the
guard he asked quietly, “May I make a bargain with you?”
Elrond
felt his stomach twist itself into a painful knot that made it hard to breathe.
Drawing himself up behind the desk he pursed his lips into a thin line. “You
are mistaken,” his words were a merge of a demand and a plea toward the guard
that stood before him. “Surely…Elladan and Elrohir were warriors that ran with
the Rangers; they are not so foolish as to be caught unaware by the Wolves.”
The
guard bowed his head humbly. “My lord, I heard myself from witnesses from the
Shire.”
Elrond
shrugged off Erestor’s hand from his shoulder. “Where are their bodies?” he
demanded, swallowing hard.
“There…were
none.”
The
elf lord went white in sorrow and fury in helplessness. “Leave me. Both of you.
Please.”
Wordlessly
Erestor followed the guard from the room where Elrond sat with his face in his
hands. “Your suspicions were confirmed?” he said softly when they had shut the
door.
“I…yes.
I had heard a rumor.” The guard said inaudibly, ducking his head to avoid Erestor’s eyes. Elrohir’s voice
rang in his thoughts: “I will not standby
and watch as my brother is killed, nor will I let myself be killed while he
watches. I swear on my honor that we will have the deed done but it will not be
done by your hand. You may tell Adar the truth or you may not; that is for you
to decide. This way you will not have a kin slaying on your head; justifiable
or not a kin slaying is a kin slaying.”
Grief
and disbelief raged war against each other in the heart of the elf lord that
sat mutely in the confines of his study. Something
is not right, Elrond said to himself through his misery. There is something in his eyes that lies to
me…but perhaps it is only through my mourning that I refuse to accept the truth.
Nevertheless I will send word to the
Shire. I want tangible evidence for myself and revenge for the death of my sons
even if I must seek it myself.
The
sun was burning red, low over the mountains as she sent the last few rays over
the land.
Elrohir
took in the falling shadows, the tree they stood under casting strange patterns
and hints of the crimson tinted sky above, and he turned to look into Elladan’s
eyes. In them he saw strength and he remembered what his brother gave up for
him that fateful night they joined. I
will miss this, the stars at night and the cool afternoon breeze, but I would
miss you more, Elladan.
There
was a rasp of metal on metal that hung in the air, a soft musical note of
impending death as Elladan drew his long hunting knife. He watched as his
brother did the same with his own, dying sunlight glancing off of their
matching knives with deep polished wood handles inlaid with ancient runes. Running
one finger over the swirls that promised strength in battle and cunning in the
hunt, he smiled to himself in remembrance at bringing down his first kill with
this blade. This would now be his last.
Pelro
and Celro whinnied, sensing the distress but Elrohir turned. “Go, go home to
peace.” He stroked Pelro’s nose, kissed it lightly, and murmured gentle but
firm instructions before the two mares wandered off slowly from the group of
trees to the mountain path. Elrohir felt Elladan’s hand slip into his own. Are you ready?
I am.
Tightening
his grip on the handle Elrohir steeled himself, clenching his eyes shut.
Suddenly
there was a twang and a hiss, and a thump in the ground reverberated up through
both their legs. Opening their eyes the twins took in a green feathered arrow
that had embedded itself in the ground exactly in between them, end still
quivering slightly from its flight.
“If
you would like,” called a voice from the shadows. “I could spare you the
trouble of slitting your throats yourselves.”
Beside
him Elrohir felt Elladan shudder in annoyance as they both looked around for
the speaker, which seemed to be not very far, but high off the ground. “Show
yourself!”
“If that be your will.”
There
was not even a tremble in the leaves to betray his coming as a lithe elf
soundlessly dropped out of the branches, rising slowly from his crouched
landing on the ground but not breaking eye contact with the twins that stood
before him.
“Legolas,”
Elladan said slowly, recognizing him from their journeys together from scarcely
a year ago.
The
golden haired elf smiled, adjusting the quiver slung across his back and
cocking his head to one side. “Yes, Elladan. Me. And so I see the two of you
are bound?” He was smiling in a way that neither of the two elves could understand;
sadness, amusement perhaps, and maybe understanding?
“And
would you slay us as that border guard would?” Elrohir returned sharply, fist
tightening around the handle of his icy blade.
With
another mysterious smile the elf informed them, “Not without your permission,
and I would tell you before I killed you.” Turning on his heel the Legolas
added, “Come with me sons of Elrond. There is someone I want you to meet.”
Elladan
and Elrohir exchanged glances, resheathing the slender weapons. We have nothing to lose, and in our quests I
have come to respect this strange Mirkwood elf. Why not follow him? Elladan
thought to Elrohir, as Legolas sprang lightly from the ground to a branch high
above their heads and disappeared into the upper branches, not a hint of
movement in his wake.
Following
proved slightly clumsy and slow for the two Noldor elves followed through the
tree limbs, forgetting their mission in their curiosity. Something about the
gleam in Legolas’ blue eyes bid them that death could wait, and that there were
more important things at work now.
Pelro
and Celro had matched reluctant paces back toward Imladris. The two horses were
as the two brothers; twins, thinking alike and keenly aware of the emotions of
the elves they had grown up under. Pelro touched her nose to Celro, who
whickered. Despite their firm instructions to head back home, the two black
mares turned and began to make their way East, tracing
back over the footsteps of their two elves, sensing an impending need.
Erestor
watched Elrond lick his lips before biting the bottom one in a mixture of
anger, relief, and renewed anxiety.
“Word
has just come from the Shire,” Elrond lowered the parchment, “That the White
Wolves have not been on the hunt since the winter. I do not know what this means
Erestor, but all I wish to know now are: where are my sons?”
There
was no tremble in his voice but Erestor knew his friend well enough to see the
emotional upset the other was in; Elrond had still not gotten over loosing
Arwen to mortality and was not ready to give up his sons quite yet.
Elladan
and Elrohir were not used to moving quickly through the trees and were relieved
when the elf in front of them came to a stop after several minutes of treetop
travel.
There
was a small clearing in which the center stood a great oak tree with two vast
talans set in its sturdy branches, with one long silver green rope running from
the tree the three elves perched in to the lower most talan. A grey gelding meandered in and out of the vegetation
below, preferring the expanse of green grass but not want to stray so far from
his master.
Legolas
gestured for the two to follow and ran lightly across the expanse of rope. “Seregiell,” Legolas called softly, stepping onto the talan.
Slightly
winded, Elladan exchanged glances with his brother as they caught up, leaning
against the main trunk of the tree to catch their breath before skittering
across the rope and leaping onto the platform. Seregiell? A wife perhaps? Legolas is bound, but why
are they not back in Mirkwood?
“Ada!” cried a young voice from the upper talan.
A tiny, golden haired figure slid down a dangling rope ladder, her sure
movements bringing her flying into her Adar’s arms. Catching sight of Elladan
and Elrohir over Legolas’ shoulder, her blue eyes widened. Turning back to her
Adar she said in a whisper, “Who are they, Ada?”
Legolas
smiled, putting her down on the floor where she barely came past his knee. Squatting
down to her level he said, “These are they sons of Elrond, Seregiell,
Elladan and Elrohir. Go on. Greet them as I have taught you.”
Obediently
the elf child bowed, but did not raise her shy face to the two.
Elrohir
stepped forward, grinning as he kneeled and gently tilting her chin up with one
hand to look her in the eye as he returned her greeting. “Your poise betrays
your years, young one.” He looked past Seregiell to
Legolas, who was watching the two of them with what could only be immense paternal
pride. “She is your daughter?” Elrohir said quietly.
“Yes.
She is my daughter.” Legolas murmured, and from the look in his eye Elrohir did
not dare ask more when the child was present.
Stiffly
Elladan fell to one knee by his brother’s side. “How old are you, Seregiell?”
“Nine
months,” she replied in a small but clear voice.
“She
grows and learns faster that others her age,” Legolas said, eyes shining. “I do
not fear to leave her for short amounts of time for she is able to attend to
herself.”
The
elf child wriggled away from Elrohir’s touch, hiding
her face in Legolas’ knee before he bent down and hoisted her up to his hip. “I
said we would eat once I arrived back did I not?” he tapped the tip of her nose
with is finger and she giggled.
After
a small evening meal Seregiell disappeared over the
edge of the talan, alighting to the ground and winding off through the trees
curiously. “I will not wander far Ada,” she called to Legolas, who nodded and
watched his daughter scrupulously inspect the ground gathering up one leaf,
then another, and rejecting the first only to bend down to continue her search.
Now
alone with Elladan and Elrohir, Legolas leaned against the trunk that ran
through the center of the large talan. He surveyed them solemnly and licked his
lips before saying quietly, “If you wish to finish what you started this
afternoon, would it be too much to ask to leave the general vicinity? I do not
wish to expose my daughter to such things as of yet. But…”
Elrohir
narrowed his eyes at the elf that sat across from him, partially hidden in the
shadows of evening. Why does he not meet
us with hostility? The king of Mirkwood is not known for his tolerance…why
should his son be any different? “What
is it that you do not speak of?”
“May
I be bold?”
“Please
do so,” Elladan said sincerely, tempering his brother’s suspicious tone and
placed one hand on Elrohir’s thigh, silently bidding him to hold his tongue.
The
mask that was held over his piercing blue eyes was let down, and leaning
forward Legolas said earnestly, “You have each other. You are in love. Do not
let the constraints of others keep you from a life of happiness!”
Shaking
off his brother’s hand and standing Elrohir snapped, “And what, Prince of
Mirkwood…do you think we seek your counsel? Or would you have us live a nomadic
existence, wandering and running constantly from those who seek to destroy us?
That would not be happiness!”
“Who
exactly seeks to do so? Lord Elrond?”
“I
-” Elrohir started to yell.
Hush brother! Tugging at the hem of his brother’s tunic
Elladan bid him to sit. “We do not know if he knows. We had not thought past
this evening, and we had both thought we would be dead by now. The honorable
thing, Legolas, would have been to be dead by now to spare Adar the shame…”
A
light sprang up in Legolas’ bright eyes. “What shame, Elladan? What shame is
there to love and be loved?”
“What
do you know?” Elrohir demanded. “You who are bound and have a princess of
Mirkwood!”
Turning
Legolas’ eyes snapped fire. “I know.” He said in a low voice with a hint of
anger. “And I am no longer of Mirkwood; I have left that and many other things
behind me. Do not speak to me of what you do not know, of pain and shunning,
Elrohir son of Elrond, for you have the one you love
beside you.”
Hush brother!
Fighting
for control Elrohir drew a deep breath. “I am sorry. I am sorry for your pain.”
“I
too am sorry for many things.” Legolas looked calm again and he leaned back
against the solid trunk. “Please do not be so hasty to take your lives. At
least wait till morning to give it some thought.”
Feeling
a slight pull of hope at his heart Elladan asked with reason, “And what would
we do, Legolas? Do you not find shame in how we are bound, brother to brother?”
“You
would be welcome to come with me,” the elf replied. “I am trying to take Seregiell safely to the Glittering Caves of which Gimli-elf friend is now lord; your
swords and strength would be welcome. And no, I find no shame for love - any
love - is too precious to be forbidden. I have been waiting until Seregiell is strong and fast enough to travel in haste,
should the need arise. She is strong enough now.”
Still
suspicious Elrohir eyed his new companion. “Why do you seek refuge?”
Legolas
licked his lips and settled deeper into the shadow, where they could not see
his face. “I was banished, and am now being pursued by…those who would wish ill
of me and my daughter,” he said simply.
“May
I ask: who is Seregiell’s mother?” Elladan said
gently, but Legolas shook his head as a small pair of hands gripped the edge of
the talan, followed by a golden crown then the rest of the tiny elf child as
she bounced up over the side.
“Look
Ada,” she said, skipping over to Legolas’ lap,
settling into the nest of Legolas’ long legs as she bent her head in toward her
Adar. “This leaf is green at the top, but it fades to gold at the edges. The
trees have said to me that soon all the leaves will turn red and gold as snow
approaches. What will snow be like?”
“Yes
my Seregiell, that is true.” Legolas gathered the
elven child up in his arms and made his way deeper into the shadows. “Snow is
white…” his voice faded into the darkness.
Elladan
looked at Elrohir who shrugged. Neither of them had seen many elven children
and such matters were foreign to them, as were the woodland elves whom shared a close bond with the trees of the forests they
lived in.
The
moon had risen high in the night sky, illuminating a
dim path for Elrohir as he crept down the ladder to the lower talan. In the
nocturnal light he could see Seregiell’s tiny form
clinging across her Adar’s chest, and at the sight of Legolas lying spread
eagle in a heap of blankets the elf had to smile. Springing from the edge of
the platform and landing with a light thud on the forest floor, Elrohir slipped
out of the shelter of the wood and climbed atop a boulder that sat along the
edge of the path. Sighing the elf tilted is head back
to raise his eyes to Eärendil and he thought of Elrond, his Adar, and of how
the stars of the night always glowed brightest on Imladris; here they seemed
mere pinpricks in comparison.
“What
do you ponder on, my brother?” Breathed a warm voice in his ear, and Elrohir
jumped slightly in surprise and let out a soft laugh as Elladan’s long arms
slipped around his shoulders from behind.
“I
merely never thought we would see another night sky like this when we left
Imladris. Is it not dazzling?” Elrohir sighed, feeling Elladan brush his hair
aside to snuggle his face into his neck. “But, do you think we should finish
what we had started this afternoon?”
At
this Elladan grew serious, stopping his exploration and propping his chin on
his brother’s shoulder. “I can tell you want to go with Legolas and Seregiell; it is written in your face and your soul.”
“I
am fond Seregiell already. And something about
Legolas makes me think that he shall need our aid, and he does not shun us and
I want to know why. I want to know his tale of why he is not of Mirkwood, and
how he came to be here, and where his wife is and –“
“So
very curious,” Elladan cut him off with a kiss. “It has something to do with
his daughter most definitely; he carries something in him that he will not say.
I wonder if it happened during the Fellowship? Perhaps his wife was killed
while he was gone and now he must look after his daughter?”
Elrohir
was shaking his head. “I could not even begin to guess. But we shall go with
them whenever they choose to depart. Perhaps we shall even delve into their
past.”
Glorfindel
urged Asfaloth faster over the open plains and the horse willingly complied,
the pair of them loving the freedom of the open grasslands and the foreboding challenge
of the Misty Mountains not far ahead. The golden elf lord had been
eager to search for any tidings of the missing twins; he knew of Elrond’s
sorrow and as he knew Elladan and Elrohir well and it was not like them to take
off from Imladris without word to any. Perhaps
the people of Mirkwood will have tidings, or else Lorien or Minas Tirith, he
thought. But Mirkwood shall be my first
stop for something in my heart bids me there.
Asfaloth
was swift and tireless, crossing through the Misty Mountains with ease matched by few other elven horses.
Were
it not for the urgency of his mission Glorfindel would have taken greater
pleasure in the beauty of the mighty woods he was entering. Is indeed still the greatest of the forests
of Middle Earth, the elf thought to him self. Even after the fire and destruction the War brought. Hopefully, he
thought with a shudder, there will be
fewer spiders lurking about.
For
a while there was little except for the dull clip of Asfaloth’s hooves on the dead
leaves of the forest floor but as he rode deeper into the forest, the golden elf
lord became aware of the sounds of soft voices holding a conference. Elven voices, Glorfindel said to
himself, cocking one ear toward the noise. He broke through to a clearing in
the trees, and indeed a head of him was a group of Mirkwood elves standing in a
ring, heads bent inward. “Hail, Woodland kin,” Glorfindel raised his hand in
greeting when a few members turned at the sound of Asfaloth’s snort.
A
proud looking golden haired elf bearing a quiver and bow on his back sitting
astride a chestnut bay came forward, returning the Elda’s greeting. “Hail; I am Enreilan, son of
Thranduil and captain of these scouts. What, pray, is an elf of Imladris doing
inside the borders of Mirkwood?”
“I
am in search of the sons of Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir. I was optimistic that
Mirkwood would bear some tidings of their whereabouts?”
The
elves were shaking their heads. “We have been searching all the woods east of
here and can safely say that there are no elves in the wood from here to the
eastern borders. We will continue on across the Misty Mountains; have you not just come from there?”
“I
have.”
“Have
you seen word or news of my brother Legolas, golden haired-“
“Yes,
I know of whom you speak,” Glorfindel interrupted them, a shadow flickering
across his face. “You seek him for justice for an indecent bonding?”
“That
we do,” Enreilan nodded, frowning.
The King of Mirkwood sent Legolas’ own
brother after him to do him justice? With
a slight twitch of his mouth Glorfindel replied, “I rode through the Mountains
in great haste, taking no time to stop and look for anything or anyone out of commonplace.
If you would not mind, I will ride with you back through the Misty Mountains and look for your Legolas and Elladan and
Elrohir.”
Even
before Elladan had opened his eyes he heard the whine.
“Ai,
Ada,”
It
was the soft but shrill cry of a female elven child.
“It
hurts! I will not brush it!”
There
was a sigh of a bemused parent that had not gone unforgotten from Elladan’s own
childhood memories.
“Seregiell, you cannot leave it as such; it looks like a
bird’s nest! Come and I will brush it for you. You do not want-“
In
the tone that only an impudent child could muster Seregiell
replied, “It looks like your hair!”
Opening
his eyes Elladan saw Legolas rock back on his heels in front his tiny daughter,
clearly frustrated. To his great surprise Elrohir, who had been lying beside
him, rose and went over to the elven child who sat in the middle of a pile of
blankets. Amazed, Elladan watched his brother speaking softly as he took a seat
behind her in her nest, distracting her from the task at hand as he gently
unwound the knots with his fingers, and proceeded to braid the wash of golden
hair that fell just past the child’s shoulders.
Beside
the two Legolas impatiently unbraided his own slept on braids, ran a comb
through the length and had rebraided the mass, finishing just as Elrohir had
tied off the last end in his daughter’s hair.
“See?”
Elrohir gestured to Legolas. “Your hair is as beautiful as your Adar’s when it
is cared for properly.” He smiled and ran his fingers through the child’s baby
soft locks shimmering bright gold in the early shafts of the pale morning
sunlight that filtered down onto the talan.
Feeling
the other’s touch Seregiell ran over to her father
and buried her face in the soft grey leggings before saying in a muffled voice,
“Thank you.”
You surprise me brother, Elladan said as he slipped to Elrohir’s side
and took his hand in his own, gave it a squeeze, and turned him around to undo
the now lax and messy braids of his brother’s dark hair.
Elrohir
smiled and accepted the fruit and bread that Legolas extended to him, reveling
in the feel of Elladan’s fingers teasing over his scalp. I like the child; she reminds me a little of Arwen when she was in her
youth, and though it is a distant memory now it is one I treasure. Seregiell is much shyer and fairer, but I expect that she
will be much the same as our sister.
Aloud
Elladan said to Legolas, “So when were you and Seregiell
planning on traveling to the Glittering Caves?” Both blond elves gave him a startled
glance, and in an instant Elladan realized that Seregiell
had had no indication from her Adar of their departure.
Running
over to her Adar and clinging around one leg the elf child looked up, curling
tiny fingers into the supple material and said softly, “Ada, we are leaving? We are leaving the trees?”
This was not how I planed it, Legolas said to himself. “Yes, my little
one. Does it grieve you?”
The
child’s tiny rosebud mouth twitched slightly. “A little.”
Hosting
the tiny frame on one hip Legolas said brightly, “Would you like to see the Glittering Caves? With the dwarves?”
The
mouth twitched momentarily as the child contemplated this option. “I suppose.”
She furrowed her brow. “Are there trees there?” When her Adar shook his head
she immediately replied, burrowing her face into her Adar’s
shoulder, “I do not want to go away from the trees.”
“What
if,” Elrohir began smoothly, trying to reason with the child, “We take an
acorn, and a beech seed, and the like and we bring trees to the dwarves.”
In
a voice muffled by Legolas’ green tunic, Seregiell
asked, “The dwarves like trees?”
Not really. “I think they will like any gift we see fit
to bring them, as friends,” Legolas said. “Go and gather some seeds to bring to
the dwarves, and you can tell them of the trees that begot them.” At this he
set her down and the small elf disappeared from the platform, dropping to the
ground as a bird alights from the trees and was dashing along the forest floor.
Elladan
watched her go. “Is she always so lively?”
Legolas
smiled. “Only when it comes to the trees, which I think she loves above all
else. She is much like my self when I was young; always up trees or off riding.
She is sometimes on Mithlilen, my gelding.” The elf turned and ascended quickly
up the silky ladder to the second upper talan, gathering a few objects and
bundling them into a pack. Taking up some of the light blankets used for
sleeping he folded them neatly, and going to the trunk of the tree opened the
small storage space behind the bark and stowed them away. “I am glad that you
have decided to come.”
Elrohir,
who had followed Legolas and Elladan, was standing behind his brother with one
hand on Elladan’s waist. “When shall we depart?”
“The
longer we linger here the more necessary it becomes for us to leave. As soon as
Seregiell returns, we shall depart, if that is
agreeable to you.”
“Legolas,”
Elladan stepped forward and placed one hand on the elf’s shoulder. “Will you
not tell us what this is all about? Why are you not in Mirkwood? Where is your
wife? Who is it that you flee from? And why do you not hate and shun or try to
slay us as all elves would, or are you strange Mirkwood elves more open minded
when it comes to beings different from dwarves?”
For
the briefest of moments Legolas wished to break the emotional dam in his heart
and pour his sorrow into the willing ears of the dark haired twins. He gnawed
at his lips, knitting his eye brows and neatly side stepped the question,
partially for fear of their judgment. “I have already told you I do not find
you bond distasteful as I find love precious and beautiful in all beings.” He
then gave a short laugh. “And, no. Mirkwood elves are
not ‘more open minded.’ At any rate, I enjoy your companionship…but I suppose
as you are about to join us on this endeavor you do have a right to know.”
Leaning against the trunk of the
tree and casually crossing one leg over the other the elf’s eyes grew slightly guarded.
“My ‘wife’ does not exist. I never bonded with her.” Legolas pressed his lips
together slowly. “I was banished from Mirkwood when it became known I was with
child…when it became obvious, a while after I arrived
home after the War of the One Ring was over. Having nowhere else to go and
traveling being very difficult…well, I was able to extend my journey as far as
this haven. There is a party sent out from Mirkwood not long ago to find and annihilate
Seregiell and me.”
The
twins traded amazed glances. “You went the entire length as part of the
Fellowship with child?”
Legolas
nodded slowly. “I was pregnant long before I left, and I knew but…” he
shrugged.
Elladan
was shaking his head in amazement. “Who-“
“No,”
Legolas said sharply. “I shall reveal that to no one. I do not think any knows,
but it has been a long time since I have heard from Mirkwood.”
Rolling
his eyes Elrohir stepped closer to his brother with a rueful grin, “Then you do
not heed the command of the Valar either!”
Legolas
gave the weakest of smiles and disappeared down to the lower level, intent on
returning to the task at hand as he surveyed the talan
with satisfaction. In a few days it shall
look like no one has been here for months.
The
thundering of horses’ hooves was all that could be heard as the procession of
Mirkwood elves plus one Elda from Imladris cantered on under the bright afternoon sun. The
terrain was slowly changing from woody and flat to hilly, the carpet of dead
leaves giving way to greener hills as they neared the Misty Mountains.
“We
should reach a rest point by midnight; it is deep within the woods of the Misty Mountains someway off the path and there we can find
food and rest if we wish to cease our hunt.”
Glorfindel
nodded to the captain he spoke to, riding at the very front of the group. Even
the Elda, who did not tire readily, was looking forward to a brief reprieve
from the constant rocking of horse beneath him in which he could put his legs
to some use.
“Seregiell!” Legolas called, perched on the edge of the
talan, long legs swinging over the side.
The
elf child was not in sight.
The
golden haired elf shrugged, and taking up two of the bundles slid off the edge
to the ground far below.
One
bundle Legolas buried at the base of the tree careful to scatter leaves over
the disrupted ground so that it hardly looked any different from the rest of
the forest floor. The other very small bundle fit neatly into his quiver, and
after re-strapping it to his back he shaded his eyes with one hand and peered
through the trees. “Seregiell!”
Joining
his companion on the ground Elrohir said in a slightly anxious voice, “Is she
alright? Should we go look for her?”
With
a pause and a mild scowl Legolas shook his head. “No…I did not think it would
take her this long to find seeds from her trees though.”
Then
came the sound of a child’s delighted giggle, and all three elven heads snapped
in the direction it came from.
“Seregiell?” Elrohir called,
and was answered by another giggle and a horse’s whicker of greeting. Confused,
the dark haired elf raised his eyebrows at the familiar sound. “Pelro?”
Into
the clearing strode the two familiar black mares with tiny Seregiell
astride Pelro’s back. “I have the seeds of the
trees,” she called to Legolas, and, sliding off the mare’s back, ran to her
Adar to show him the fist full of potential trees she had gleaned.
Amazed,
Elladan and Elrohir leapt from the talan and made
their way to the disobedient mares that had found their way to their elves.
I thought I told you to go for Imladris,
animal, Elrohir half
chided, though he was relieved and curious at the animal’s reappearance in the
woods of the Misty Mountains. He pulled his chin back quickly as the
mare nosed at his face, snuffing affectionately. Yes, you knew you would be needed.
“And
now,” Elladan said from beside him with one hand on Celro’s nose, “We do not
have to walk.”
Seregiell took great delight in riding this new
horse, even consented to riding Pelro with Elrohir sitting behind her, his
hands holding the tiny child carefully in place.
Elladan
rode beside them astride Celro, and Legolas rode ahead on Mithlilein, the
foursome of elves departing north just as the sun sank slowly in the west.
The
sun had set, the peppering of stars across the sky providing light for the
procession that rode on through the narrow mountain path. The leader of the
group, Enreilan, suddenly veered to the right off the path, leading them
through a grouping of rocks so close together that the elves slowed their
mounts to a walk to squeeze through single file.
The
rocks and boulders gave way to a wood of trees growing precariously balanced on
the mountainside, and coming to a clearing the wood elves came to a stop.
Looking
up Glorfindel saw a large oak tree with two talans.
“This
is our rest point; we do not have many outside of Mirkwood, but this is one,”
Enreilan said in a brief explanation to Glorfindel. Then he jumped, caught the
edge of the talan with his hands and setting up with a light swing of his legs
pulled himself easily onto the platform and out of sight. There was a soft
shuffle and a silvery green rope ladder came tumbling out of the darkness.
The
convoy of elves ascended up the ladder, and Glorfindel was astonished and
pleased at the comfort of this woodland refuge; it reminded him much of Lorien. The elves had hidden blankets and provisions in the
safekeeping of the trunk of the tree which were distributed, and watches were
assigned as the rest of the group settled down for a night’s needed rest.
In
an attempt to sleep, Enreilan rolled over to his back, feeling very satisfied. Legolas has been here in recent times; I can
feel it. The talan hideout is here, just as the
journal said. The elf smiled to himself into the
darkness; they were on the right track. I
can even feel some of the magic, lingering in the air…
The
sound of birdsong and the touch of the rising sun on his eyelids made Glorfindel
stir. Turning over on one side he yawned, sat up slowly, and took in the
morning activities of the wood elves around him. There was one small lantern
lit, dangling just above their heads, the little light it gave off quickly
becoming unnecessary as daylight grew stronger. Standing, Glorfindel took it
down and blew it out. Turing to Enreilan, whom had just awoken a few paces
behind him, he asked what should be done with it.
The
elf climbed to his feet, stretched his agile limbs, then motioned for Glorfindel
to follow, leading the Elda to the upper talan and squatting at the base of the tree. “In
here on top of the blankets should be fine,” he said, opening the latch of the
small storage space. A glint of sunlight spreading across the topmost blanket
caught his eye, and the captain picked up the object, scrutinizing it
carefully. “Odd,” he commented casually to the Elda that was standing patiently behind him,
lamp still in hand. Enreilan held up his finger and thumb from which dangled a
few long, dark strands of hair. “I though all Mirkwood elves were light
haired.”
Glorfindel
raised his eyebrows in recognition. Elladan
and Elrohir have been here…
Then
Enreilan took note of other hair on the blanket as well; the short strands of
fine, soft golden hair. The child has
been here as well. It is Legolas, and we are getting very close. Very, very
close, my brother.
The
wind danced about the procession of the four elves as they passed through the
mountains, dark and golden hair blowing in the wake of her skirts, all four
elves closing their eyes and drinking in the delicious scents of nature.
I will miss this, my brother, the feelings
that my body allows my Feä to receive,
Yes, I will miss that too Elladan. Elrohir smiled to himself, stretching
slightly back in his seat.
In
front of him, Seregiell craned her neck around and up
to look curiously at Elrohir, her blue eyes were wide and innocent. “What are
you saying?”
The
dark haired elf looked down in surprise. “You can feel that?”
“You
speak like the trees. It is easy to feel.”
We will have to mind our minds for a while
brother,
“You
are doing it again!”
In
front of them Legolas turned slightly. “Seregiell,
would you come and ride with me?”
“I
want to know what they are saying!”
“It
does not concern you, love. Would you come and sing to me while we ride?”
Feeling
the tiny body in front of him hesitate Elrohir encouraged, “I would like to
hear a song from you as well,”
The
elf child obliged reluctantly as Pelro’s quickened pace brought her abreast of
Mithlilien and she was duly transferred, though her little face was painted
with inquisitiveness. “I want to know what they are saying, Ada,” she complained, but nevertheless obliged
to her father’s request.
Her
young voice carried clearly on the breeze with the bird song, mingling into the
distance to the pleasure of all that could hear.
Enreilan
leaned into a slightly chill puff of air, straining his ears…yes, there it came
again; a child’s song – the child’s song. “Come!” he called to the elves and
horses riding behind them. “It is them, I am sure, and we are gaining on them!”
The
path was growing precariously evasive and narrow as it gave way from well
traveled, well packed dirt to slippery expanses of pebbles that shifted
constantly under foot. The elves checked their horses to a slow walk, letting
the animals feel their way through the steep pass, sending showers of sand and
rock skittering back down the way they had come.
Legolas
could feel his frustration growing as the going became slower, and an anxious
premonition was swelling in his chest. He kept turning and looking back over
the way they came, the narrow path carved out with steep sides with only a thin
portion of the hills that lay beyond that visible. The wind had changed,
blowing up from the South and bottle necking through the narrow pass, and the
golden haired elf was almost sure he could hear the beating of many hoof beats
on the rolling hills to his back.
Mithlilien
stumbled, and he crooned to the gelding, passed Seregiell
to Elrohir, and dismounted leading the grey horse up the path.
Twisting
around in his seat Elladan squinted into the expanse behind them. “There is a
group of about twenty riding behind us,” he remarked casually though he knew of
the elf’s fear.
Eyes
growing wide Legolas asked sharply, “Are they elven?”
The
twin turned and squinted into the distance again. “I believe so…it is hard to
tell for we are many leagues off but they are approaching swiftly.”
Legolas
felt his heart quicken in his chest and he trusted his instinct.
“Then
we must keep going forward; perhaps we will lose them in the rocky hills and
valleys for they will have as difficult a time as us on horse back,” Elrohir
offered, sensing the other’s alarm, and the four elves continued to press on.
As
the group grew nearer Legolas deftly skimmed back down past the three elves on
horseback as he shaded his eyes with one hand. “I am sure it is the group from
Mirkwood; there had been very little other movement through these parts for the
last nine months…ah yes…there is the banner.” The elf gnawed at his lip,
thinking very quickly. We are backed up
against this wretched pass…even if we made it over there are many more miles of
trail like this.
Elladan, they will see in our eyes what they
were told by Legolas’ belly.
“Ada, what is happening?” Seregiell’s
blue eyes were wide, sensing the budding fear that would blossom into panic
accumulating in her Adar’s mind.
“Shh,” Legolas crooned distractedly.
Clearing
his throat Elladan said in a measured tone, “We should turn and fly, Legolas;
they are gaining rapidly and the going here is impossible.”
Yes, they bear the colors of Mirkwood; the
colors of our doom. The
golden haired elf swung up onto Mithlilien’s back.
“They approach from the South; we must get back out into the open from the way
they came and make West.” Turning his mount around
Legolas gave a soft click with his tongue. “Make haste! We must be faster than
they are, and they are coming rapidly!”
Glorfindel
gave Asfaloth his head and the horse went flat out, passing to the head of the
charge, rocks, trees, and the green of the grass all blurring into a streak.
For the briefest of moments the Elda was reminded of the enormous sprints in to
flat out battle, the clashing of two armies meeting, and his blood thrilled
through his veins before he checked himself and remembered that it was fellow
elves, not enemies, that they rode against.
“Spread
out!” Ereilan shouted. “Surround the mouth of the pass so they cannot escape!”
Panic
had evaporated, and Legolas felt calm yet the premonition that had been growing
in his chest was now unbearably heavy. I
knew there would be an end someday…and here it is. I hope they will be
merciful. Checking over his shoulder he saw the two twins, Elrohir still
bearing Seregiell, right behind him. Ahead, through
the narrow opening of the pass he felt his doom grow as he saw the group of
elves spread out, forming a semi circle and effectively cutting off their
escape.
They
had not ridden fast enough. Unless the unwisely chose to turn and flee up the
hazardous mountain pass, through which they would surely be pursued, they were ensnared.
We are done for, Elrohir said to his brother.
Yes. Elladan’s reply was calm, and slowed to a canter. “Legolas,
there is no need to rush into the fate that already lies ahead.”
“Ada?” The elf child’s voice was a small peep of
terror.
“Stay
with Elrohir, Seregiell. Do not fear.”
Mithlilien
slowed to a walk, the three older elves grim with impending destiny, the
youngest elf silent and wide eyed as she sensed her Adar’s dread, which frightened
her.
The
four elves walked quietly out into the half moon of Mirkwood elves, Legolas
keeping Mithlilien ahead of the two dark haired elves and his daughter.
Enreilan
urged his mount forward to meet the grey gelding.
“Greetings,
brother.” Legolas’ gaze was steady, drawing so near that the wind that blew
around their faces mingling their golden hair until it was indiscernible as to
where Legolas’ began and where Enreilan’s ended.
Elladan
and Elrohir started and stared when they saw Glorfindel’s golden head among
those of the wood elves, and then looked away as realization, anger, and
sadness came into the blue eyes of the elf that had known them their entire
lives.
Enreilan
gave a harsh laugh, grating on the ears of all who heard. “You are no brother to
me, Legolas,” the elf spat the name, raising one hand and gesturing.
As
Elrohir watched two woodland elves came forward and stripped the blond elf of
his quiver and knife, and unconsciously he crushed Seregiell’s
face to him, covering her eyes as he feared for a violent act toward her Adar.
The
elf child let out a whimper, drawing the attention of the rest of the party.
Looking
repulsed, Enreilan turned to Legolas, who still sat astride Mithlilien with his
hands bound behind his back. “This is the child?” he said, words inundated with
distain.
“It
is.”
“Take
her and bind her as well,”
Seregiell cried out “Ada!” and Elrohir said sharply, drawing his
sword, “No!”
“Enreilan,”
Legolas’ voice was traced with pleading as he fought to control the rage that
was building inside his chest. “Your grudge lies with me; fault lies with me;
she is an innocent in this crime.”
Ignoring
his brother Enreilan’s eyes traveled from one now defiant looking twin to the
other, and a horrified look crossed his face even as he sneered. “And who are
you, sons of Elrond, to tell me what to do…your deeds are written in you eyes
as clearly as there are stars in the night; you are no better than this
degenerate here; dare I say you are worse!”
Two
elves made for Elrohir but he backed Pelro away. “Draw nearer and I shall
relieve your necks of your heads!”
In
a heartbeat Enreilan had an arrow set on a taunt bowstring. “This is in the
kill zone, son of Elrond. I could let it fly and be completely justified.”
Glorfindel
urged his horse forward, coming between the dark and light haired elves. “The
slaying of Elladan and Elrohir is not in your jurisdiction, son of Thranduil,”
the Elda said. “Legolas is yours as you will, but I
have a claim on these elves from Imladris. Their Adar does not know of their
whereabouts, and I alone was sent to find and retrieve them.”
Enreilan’s
lips narrowed. “And you will find them, dead.”
“Then
you will bring the anger of the Lord of Imladris to your kingdom,” Glorfindel
retorted, anger growing at the new found malice in the other elf. “You will
leave Elladan and Elrohir to me.”
Elladan, does Adar know?
I do not know…
The
icy blue eyes of the blond elf across from him were alight with cold fury.
“Very well then. Give me the child and be gone with your sinners.”
“Seregiell is not at fault to punish,” Legolas snapped,
desperate to keep his daughter safe in Elrohir’s hold. “To slay her would be
kin slaying, not justice!”
Rounding
on him the fair elf shouted, “You do not have a voice in this matter! You are
dead to all the elves present!”
“He
is right Enreilan,” Glorfindel broke in harshly, horrified at the change to
malice in the being before him. “To slay her Adar would be justice but to slay
his child would be a kin slaying! Step back and see what hunting your fellow
brother has done to you!”
“He
is no brother of mine!” Enreilan took a moment to regain his composure. “She is
the product of sin!”
Glorfindel
stood firm. “Yet she is not the sin herself.” Before the other could snarl a
reply, the Elda and Asfaloth broke through the circle,
heading west toward Imladris. “Come, Elladan, Elrohir. Bring Seregiell. Your Adar will be glad to know you are safe.”
“Ada?” Seregiell’s
voice carried on the wind as she struggled to disentangle herself from
Elrohir’s firm grip.
Legolas
made a motion to go forward to his daughter, but at the furious light in
Enreilan’s eyes he half feared his brother would change his mind if he did. “Go
with them, love,” Legolas called, swallowing hard to keep his voice from
cracking. The Lord of Imladris is kind;
he will see to it that she is kept safe.
A
rough hand squeezed the back of his neck hard in a warning, and the elf closed
his mouth again, his eyes never leaving the little face that had craned around
Elrohir’s side to catch a last glimpse of her Adar.
I love you little one; be strong…Legolas willed as he watched the four
figures - with Glorfindel riding pointedly between the twins - before they
disappeared over the crest of a hill. Relief that his daughter would not be
slain or even harmed as he feared mingled and tempered his grief, though he
would never see her grow up and the woods of Mirkwood would forever be foreign
to her. Be merciful, Master Elrond, the
elf sighed to himself, and turned his attention back
to the group of silent Mirkwood elves, not caring for his fate.
Not
a word was spoken on the journey back, save a few small mewing noises from Seregiell that sounded like severely repressed crying.
Glorfindel
was lost in the jumbles of his newly discovered information, torn with woe and wrath
at the knowledge of Elladan and Elrohir’s bonding and what their fate must be.
This mixed with disbelief and pity for the tiny elf child that had borne more
sorrow in her few months than many elves experience in a century.
The
glow of Imladris had just come into view when Seregiell
let out a soft scream and keeled over, nearly falling from Pelro had Elrohir
not grasped the child about her tiny figure and clutched her to him in alarm.
“What is it?”
The
elf child shook her head frantically; eyes screwed shut, body curling tensely
into a tiny ball.
Elrohir
could feel her trembling in his grasp, her heart thudding against her ribcage
like the wings of a trapped bird against the bars of a cage. “Will you tell
us?” the dark haired elf tried to sooth the minuscule body into relaxing
against him but to no avail.
Brother, it is Legolas…
Elrohir
cradled the head to his chest. “Your Adar…?” he whispered, so quietly that Seregiell was the only one to hear.
The
tiny head nodded, very slowly. “He…gone…now.”
Inside
the gate, Glorfindel, Elladan and Elrohir dismounted as Elrond came out of the
house, heavy robes blowing in the chilly gusts that swirled fallen leaves
around everyone’s feet. For the briefest of moments Elrond’s eyes lit with joy
and relief at the sight of his sons returned in safety, but that light was
quickly replaced as he looked into the identical eyes of his sons. Brow
furrowing, he turned quickly to Glorfindel, who was attempting to disentangle Seregiell from around Elrohir’s neck, but the elf child let
out a shriek at his touch and Elrohir motioned him away.
Seeing
the disbelief in his fellow Elda’s eyes, the blond elf lord gave the smallest of nods, and
disappeared with Asfaloth into the stable.
Elladan
cleared his throat. “That is why we left, Adar.”
Elrond
bit his lip. You left to make a quiet
end… “Who is this fair child you have brought back from your excursion?”
“The
daughter of Legolas, formerly of Mirkwood. Seregiell.”
Turning
Elrond walked silently inside.
I feel we almost owe him an explanation, Elrohir thought to Elladan. I feel wretched, brother, for I never wanted
him to know. And now he is grieved and shamed, deeply, beyond words. It would
have been better had he known us to simply be dead.
We must finish. Leave Seregiell;
she will be safe here.
Elladan, she has just lost her Adar…
“You
are talking again,” Seregiell said,
voice muffled in Elrohir’s shoulder. She wriggled slightly. “Put me down. I
want to be with the trees.”
Elrohir
obliged, watching the little figure scamper off into the foliage as tears fell
anew. He turned to Elladan. “Come.”
“I
am ready,” Elladan murmured.
Storm
clouds were threatening the quiet tranquility of the afternoon as Glorfindel
returned from the stables to find Erestor and Elrond holding council.
“What
should be done with the child?” Erestor was saying when the blond Elda had entered the room. “Who is her Amar?”
The advisor and the elf lord turned to Glorfindel, who raised his hands in a
helpless gesture and shook his head.
“I
am only certain that she is the daughter of Legolas who I believe is now slain;
no mention was made of an Amar on Legolas’ part. Elladan and Elrohir may know,
as they have spent time with the woodland elf, but,” Glorfindel’s face
flickered. “I have not spoken to them much since our meeting.”
Taking
note of the grey that was quickly obscuring the translucent sky Elrond rose
with a sigh, calling over his shoulder as he exited the room. “Bring Elladan
and Elrohir here; I have need to speak with them anyway. I will go for the
child; she must come inside before it starts to pour.”
The
elf lord ambled off to the gardens with a heavy heart. He did not want to deal
with a strange child as of now; he wanted to converse with his sons and be left
to his own misery at their fate in the solitude of his chambers. Frowning, he
turned in a slow circle wondering which tree the elf child would choose to hide
in, when the most minuscule of sobs reached his elven
ears and gave away her hiding place. At the base of a large oak tree Elrond
peered up into the branches hopefully, but saw only leaves. “Seregiell?”
All
was silent, save the wind picking up speed as she prepared to bear raindrops on
her wings.
“Seregiell,” Elrond was beginning to wonder how he would
extract this being from the haven she clung to. “It will rain soon; you do not
desire to be caught in the rain, do you?”
“Go
‘way.”
Elrond
shifted his weight to one leg. This might take awhile. “What would you and your
Adar do when it rained?”
“Ada is gone.”
“What
would you and your Amar do when it rained?”
“Go
away!” There was another sound of another sob.
Shedding
his heavy outer robe, the elf lord proceeded to do something he had not done in
many millennia; he grasped the lower branches of the oak tree and swung his
weight onto the lower boughs, climbing toward the still hidden elf child.
Slowly, two tiny feet high above him came into view; Seregiell
had risen to the highest part of the tree, the slender branches supporting her
light weight and preventing the elf lord from joining her in her perch.
The
sky now had darkened portentously, and Elrond felt a down pour coming on at any
moment. “Have you heard the story of your Adar’s
journey as one of the nine walkers?”
“No.”
“Could
I entice you into coming into the house to hear the story?”
“I
want Elrohir.”
“He
is within, waiting for you,”
There
was a pause. “I want Ada…”
The
voice was hushed and pleading, not really meant as a request for Elrond for the
elf lord sensed that the child already understood what it meant when she simply
said, “Ada is gone.” Empathy for this little being
warmed his grieved heart; he too had lost both his parents at a very tender age
but it had taken him far longer to come to acceptance, and he reached out
silently with his soul in their shared sorrow. “I know you want your Ada,” Elrond said softly. “Sometimes I do as
well.”
“Where
is your ada?”
“He
is gone too, since I was a little older than you.”
With
this the tiny feet moved and the rest of the fragile body descended quickly,
passing the elf lords offer of help and alighting to the ground long before
Elrond was able to scramble downwards.
Thrusting
his long arms back into his discarded robe the elf extended a hand to the
child, who shrank away. She is not used
to all these strange new elves, Elrond sighed inwardly and turned to go
back inside, check occasionally to make sure that he was being followed by this
dainty golden shadow. “Wait here,” he gesture her inside a sitting room,
watching Seregiell enter before he shut the door
behind her.
Now
alone, Seregiell sank to the floor in front of the
fire place, hugging her knees to her chest and determinedly unmindful of her
new environment.
Glorfindel
stood aghast at the scene which met his eyes.
“What
could possibly be taking Elrohir so-“
Senses
pushing him into action the golden haired elf turned and nearly collided head
on with the elf lord who was coming to rouse his son. “Do not enter!”
Glorfindel said urgently, and was met with gracious dismay tainted with
annoyance. “Lord Elrond…”
Any
irritation vanished at the expression on his friend’s face: grief, disbelief,
anger even. “What,” Elrond said slowly, watching a million emotions run through
his friend’s face as his mouth worked slowly, trying to find words to express
what he had seen.
Glorfindel
made a croaking sound, his grip tightening on the other Eldar’s arms.
“It
concerns my son,” Elrond said with a hint of fright. “Stand aside!” He
hurriedly disentangled himself from Glorfindel’s grasp, and burst through the
door with the blond elf following.
Elrohir
and Elladan lay side by side, hand in hand, clad only in leggings, faces slightly
inclined toward the other. Blood from identical, self inflicted fatal neck
wounds soaked the bed, seeping the sheets and blankets in crimson. Elrohir’s
free hand lay on the bed, blood slicked fingers loosely encircling the handle
of one of his brother’s hunting knives. Elladan’s arm draped off the bed, hand
hovering lifelessly above the other knife which had clattered to the floor,
spattering the cold floor as the drops slowly leached into white stone, never
to be removed and scrub the room clean of the memories it held.
Realization
rushed into Elrond’s grieved mind as he slowly turned from the gory scene. His
mind spun, his heart ached so fiercely he could not even weep as he leaned
against the sturdy wall of the hall outside. My sons,
Glorfindel
shut the door quietly, one hand on the dark haired Eldar’s shoulder who stood
with his face buried in his hands.
Look at how beautiful everything is, Elladan,
Yes brother, I feel it…come with me, we will
go over the Misty Mountains
into Greenwood
and explore the beauty there.
Do you not feel restless, a houseless Fëa?
No; I am free for I am with you, Elrohir. It
is as before; we may not have our bodies but now we have our souls, for
ourselves and for each other, and we are bonded for all time. I love you, my
brother, and now we are not forbidden.
Greetings, sons of Elrond. Is my Sinlilwes
safe?
Indeed she is…
~*~
Kneeling
on the floor Elrond traced a dark splatter pattern on the floor with his
fingertips.
The
door opened soundlessly and Seregiell’s tiny hand -
only slightly bigger since her arrival several months ago - slipped into his
free one. “I miss Elrohir too,” said a child’s voice, slipping into the elf
lord’s lap. “Though I miss Ada more.”
It
had been a long time since Elrond had held a child to him. “Yes, young one,”
“You
will miss them even in Valiahnor?”
Elrond
did not bother to correct this mix up. “Yes. I will love and miss them all for
one can never leave sorrow behind.” As he held this warm body to his chest,
Elrond allowed himself to weep for his sons for the first time since their
passing, with the elf child accepting every tear that fell.
~Sequel coming; Double Sin: the Sins of
Legolas – in which we find out how Legolas and Seregiell
came to the refuge of the Misty Mountains…any guesses as to the other half of Seregiell’s parentage?~
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