Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

Greenleaf & Imladris 24 - Degrees of Comfort	By : MPB Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 5583 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Part 1
- 2-Part 2
- 1
- 2
Title: Greenleaf & Imladris 24 - Degrees of Comfort

Author: Eressë (eresse21@yahoo.com)

Pairing: Elrohir/Legolas

Rating: NC-17

Disclaimer: Everything but the plot belongs to that wizard of storytelling, JRR Tolkien.

Summary: It’s trite but true: One of the best things about lovers’ quarrels is the making up afterwards.

Author’s note: Not so much of a plot but an outlet for the strange mood I was in when I wrote this so...

Degrees of Comfort

Part I

Imladris, lairë TA 40

There was a definite chill in the air. At the height of one of the warmest summers in memory. At least, that was how Legolas felt at present. He tried to hide his scowl as he followed Elrohir with his eyes.

His mate was busy entertaining the newly elected Master of the Bree-land and his wife and children. In the years after the Great War, the Bree-folk had come to see the advantage of having one of their own officially speak for them in negotiations with other communities. They had thus followed the example of the men of Dale and just this past spring had gotten around to electing their first Master. Now the Man and his family had come to Imladris to introduce themselves and satisfy their curiosity about the hidden vale.

Legolas sighed in frustration. Now it was the Bree Master. Before this it had been a party of gregarious humans from the guild of merchants of Esgaroth seeking trading concessions from Gondor. And before that an emissary from the Dwarves of the Ered Mithrin asking that their new but flourishing colony be recognized as a realm in its own right much like Erebor. And before that, a group of Lindon Elves sent by Círdan to Rivendell to request something from King Elessar through the twins.

The Elves had come to ask permission for the Firstborn to pass through the Shire in order to get to the Grey Havens. Ever since Aragorn decreed that no “Big People” were to trespass on the hobbits’ land, the Elves coming from the east had had to take a roundabout route in order to reach Lindon. Círdan had asked that this prohibition be waived for the Elves at least.

The brethren had readily granted this request. It had been an easy one to decide compared to the other concerns that had been brought to their attention since the fall of the preceding year.

Just before autumn set in the year before, Aragorn had asked his foster brothers to represent him in the north. In effect, he had made them his de facto regents in the northern territories of his kingdom. The decision had been made in the wake of a sudden and, this time, sincere attempt by Harad to forge a lasting peace with Gondor. Embroiled in the negotiations with the Southrons, Aragorn had found it next to impossible to journey north as was his wont and see to his other subjects’ needs.

So he had delegated the task to his Elf-brothers, giving them carte blanche to make decisions on his behalf that would be as binding as if he had personally made them himself. As a result, Rivendell had come under virtual siege, with humans, Dwarves and Elves coming with their various requests, demands and problems to lay before the brethren. It seemed only the hobbits had not made a nuisance of themselves, Legolas thought sourly.

He was not really set against the visitors by any means. He knew all too well what duty entailed. But one unfortunate consequence of the great influx of guests at Imladris was the steady decrease in Elrohir’s attention to him. Both brothers had been so busy, they had scarcely had the time or energy to devote to their respective spouses.

At least Elladan had had the sense to recognize his neglect of his wife and young sons, Legolas thought, scowling anew. The older twin had announced he would take his family for a short holiday in Eryn Lasgalen and hied off for the woodland kingdom at the end of spring. Legolas had been glad for his sister and imagined his father’s pleasure at having little Elendir and Elros to fuss over. But unhappily for the archer, Elladan’s absence had left Elrohir in charge of everything for more than a month and therefore busier than ever.

There definitely was a chill in the air.

Legolas watched as Elrohir and his guests headed for the gardens. The Bree Master and his family were basically kindly folk of simple tastes. But one could not fault them for being captivated by the fabled refuge. Even with Elrond long gone and the power of Vilya no longer in effect, Rivendell still retained the air of enchantment that so enthralled visitors, proving that it was its inhabitants and not any ring of power that had long lent the vale its mysterious allure. Was it any wonder that this latest group of guests should desire to explore its entirety even to its gardens and the orchards beyond?

The Master’s younger daughter, however, seemed more interested in Rivendell’s younger twin lord than in Rivendell itself. Legolas’ eyes narrowed.

The maid had grated on his nerves since her arrival. She had been highly appreciative of the comeliness of all the Elves but when she clapped her eyes on Elrohir she had turned patently covetous. Legolas was not surprised. The twins after all were in a league all their own; as fair as Elves yet with the earthy quality of Men that made them seem less aloof than pure-blooded Edhil, or Elves. It was a potent combination. Few could resist their smoldering, sensual beauty. This maid did not even try.

Of course, neither Elrohir nor Legolas could reproach her. Few mortals knew of the matrimonial customs of Elves and even less of the wedding of male and male spirit. In this, Legolas owned that his sister had an advantage. There had been other females who had sought to dally with Elladan but Nimeithel had preemptively claimed ownership of the older twin, thus nipping any carnal ambitions in the bud.

Legolas had no such recourse. Not only would mortals not understand but there was also always the certainty that such news would get back to the south. That would upset the apple cart in more ways than one. No, he could not do as his sister had done. He was forced to depend on Elrohir to keep overly keen admirers at bay.

Which, admittedly, Elrohir did. But he was diplomatic in his methods. Too diplomatic for Legolas’ liking. It irked him that the Elf-knight could be so brusque when he dealt with males but oh so gallant when it was the distaff side involved. Oh, he understood it was his mate’s way. That Elrohir would always show his gentle side to women no matter how annoyed he might be with them. As he was doing so now with his guest’s daughter. Besides, he could hardly chide the minx for something she knew nothing of.

Legolas was aware of this but it did not soothe him one whit. He could not accept the idea of anyone coquetting with his spouse even if it was done out of ignorance. And even less did he like the sight of Elrohir allowing such behavior around him no matter how trifling. He began to seethe as he noted the number of times the maiden placed her hand on the Elf-knight’s arm. Pawing him, Legolas thought irately.

He abruptly left the concealment of the shadowed porch from whence he had been making his observations and approached the group. At once, the family eyed him with ill-concealed fascination. They instinctively sensed the difference between him and Elrohir though they did not know what constituted that difference.

Elrohir smiled as he neared them. “I was wondering where you had gone,” he said.

To his slight amusement, Legolas slipped between him and the maiden, in effect breaking her hold on his arm. “I was keeping an eye on things,” Legolas said cryptically.

Ever a master at reading between the lines, Elrohir raised an eyebrow in some surprise. But this was no place to ask his mate about his apparent pique and he turned his attention back to their guests. At this point, however, the humans’ inquisitiveness about the Wood-elves of Greenwood asserted itself and they began to question him eagerly about his realm.

Legolas all but groaned. It seemed his aloofness with them had served to only heighten their curiosity about him and his people. Now he had to deal with their queries, like it or not. After what seemed like eternity, Lindir finally showed up to announce that the midday meal was ready. It was only then, as he was sighing with relief, that he and the others realized that Elrohir and the youngest daughter were nowhere in sight. He offered to look for them and requested the steward to usher the visitors to the dining hall.

Frowning, he followed the tenuous connection that always flowed between him and Elrohir and soon spotted the two just a few yards away beneath the lone apple tree in the garden. The chit was endeavoring to climb it in order to pluck a luscious apple hanging just out of reach. Elrohir was remonstrating with her, offering to fetch it for her.

Legolas gritted his teeth and began to walk toward them. At that moment, the girl slipped prompting Elrohir to catch her. It was then that she crossed the line.

Before Legolas’ unbelieving eyes, she snaked her arms around Elrohir’s neck and pulled him close to kiss him. It was the briefest of kisses for Elrohir gently but firmly disengaged himself from her embrace. To Legolas it was a woefully inadequate response.

Elrohir saw him then, noting his blazing blue eyes. He prudently sent the maiden on her way then approached his obviously displeased mate.

“Why did you wander off?” Legolas asked sharply.

The warrior was slightly taken aback. “She saw the tree and sought to climb it on her own. I only followed her to keep her from harm.”

“Which she doubtless counted on,” the archer snipped.

“She is very young and quite ignorant of proper decorum, Legolas,” Elrohir said. “She meant no harm.”

“Indeed,” the prince snapped icily. “But she certainly knows the benefits of an “accidental” fall into your arms!”

“I will not deny her guileful machinations,” Elrohir replied, a smile tugging at his lips at this display of his mate’s jealousy.

“And you are no ignorant youth to have let her proceed so far,” Legolas added sarcastically.

“You can hardly expect me to have anticipated her actions,” Elrohir protested mildly. “Besides, what would you have had me do? Be uncivil with her?”

“Had it been her brother who had approached you thus, you would have had no compunctions about that!” At Elrohir’s startled expression, he pressed on. “She has been flirting outrageously with you since their arrival. And you have said and done nothing to dissuade her. Being young and ignorant, as you put it, she obviously took that as encouragement!”

“I neither dissuaded nor persuaded her in either direction,” Elrohir objected.

“I wish I could believe that.”

Elrohir stared at him. This was far more than mere jealousy.

“What is wrong, Legolas? You know I care not for the attentions of others.”

“Yet you were so taken with hers that you have not even remembered—” The archer broke off and pursed his lips angrily.

“Remembered what?”

“Nothing.”

Elrohir studied his sullen spouse. “Calenlass, her blandishments are nothing more than banter to me,” he said. “Surely you know that.”

“Nothing more, Elrohir?” The archer sounded hurt now. “This from the one who taught me that bound Elves do not engage in such dealings.”

He turned away and hurried off, snatching his hand out of Elrohir’s grasp when his mate sought to stay him. The warrior blew his breath out, more disturbed by the archer’s sudden anger than he cared to admit.

Legolas stayed away from him for the rest of the day, concealing himself so well no one could tell Elrohir where he had gone. Not even when Elladan and Nimeithel arrived unexpectedly that afternoon did he emerge from wherever he had secluded himself. It was only when the dinner bell sounded that evening that he finally showed himself, joining them quietly as they made their way to the dining hall. But to everyone’s surprise, he avoided Elrohir and stayed by Nimeithel’s side after welcoming her and Elladan. The older twin looked questioningly at his brother but Elrohir only shook his head. He needed to talk to Legolas first.

There was a collective gasp when they entered the dining hall. It was ablaze with the light of twice the number of candles that were normally used. Festive garlands of greenery and blossoms adorned the windows giving the hall a woodland look. Last but certainly not least, a sumptuous repast had been laid out by Iorwen and her staff. A repast that featured all of Legolas’ favorite dishes. For a moment, the archer stared about in shock and then he whipped his head around to look at Elrohir. But the burgeoning elation in his blue eyes swiftly faded when he noted the equal surprise in his mate’s expression.

An instant later, Nimeithel swept him into an affectionate hug. “You did not think I had forgotten your begetting day, did you?” she murmured.

Elrohir felt his heart drop to the pit of his belly. Valar! He had completely forgotten the significance of the day. He stared guiltily at Legolas. His guilt increased when the prince looked at him over Nimeithel’s shoulder with disappointment then lowered his eyes lest others see the hurt in them. He managed effusive thanks and a smile for his sister and let her lead him to the place of honor.

It was a ghastly feast for the two of them, both feigning merriment while struggling to hide what they truly felt. Elladan and Nimeithel discerned their unease but neither could open the subject before the guests. Near the end of dinner, the strain became too much for Legolas and, taking his leave early, he rose and left the hall. Elrohir’s first impulse was to follow him but the Master’s wife chose the moment to engage him in conversation. Thankfully, Elladan noticed his predicament and adroitly rescued him.

He raced to their chamber, hoping Legolas had not decided to hide himself once more. He opened the door and halted on the threshold. The archer lay on their bed on his side, hugging a pillow like a youngling. Remorse struck Elrohir hard.

He slipped onto the bed behind Legolas and snaked an arm around his mate. Legolas did not respond but simply buried his face in the pillow. That made Elrohir feel worse. For his proud warrior prince to behave thusly evinced his deep hurt.

“I am sorry, Calenlass,” he whispered. “I should not have forgotten this day’s import. Forgive me.”

He heard a doleful sigh. “‘Tis not only this day you have forgotten,” the archer said, voice muffled by the pillow.

Elrohir bit his lip. True. He had been so engrossed in his duties he had spent little or no time with Legolas this past month. Not even in their bed, he belatedly realized with perturbation.

Even at night, when they lay together, alone at last, he had been either so tired or his mind still engaged in whatever concern had been brought to his notice that they had not indulged in more than the most cursory of couplings. Instigated more oft than not by Legolas.

“Oh, melethron”—lover—“forgive me,” he implored, pulling Legolas tightly against him and dropping soft caresses on the side of his neck. “I never meant to hurt you.”

After a tension-fraught moment, Legolas turned over to face him. His eyes glittered in the dim light. “I know,” he said in a hushed voice and pressed his lips against Elrohir’s.

The Elf-knight answered his kiss and more besides.

*******

Legolas’ spirits did not lift significantly the following day much to Elrohir’s worry. While some of his sense of abandonment had been assuaged by their loving of the night before, it did not completely abate. Elrohir watched ruefully from the stable yard as his mate took off for a day of riding. To try and forget, the twin knew all too painfully.

Theirs was one of the most passionate relationships in Elfdom. It was in the joining of their bodies that they best expressed their abiding love for each other. For Elrohir to have seemingly lost his desire for intimacy with his spouse had been a blow to Legolas. It had given the archer reason to fear that perhaps more than just desire had vanished.

Although eight years had passed since the near unraveling of their relationship, Legolas still bore the scars of his unwitting folly. He had never quite forgotten the scornful words of their erstwhile enemy, impugning his suitability as Elrohir’s mate. His subsequent discovery of the ignorance that had almost damaged his bond with the Elf-knight beyond repair had further convinced him of the truth of those words. Over the years, heartened by Elrohir’s love, he had slowly let go of his insecurity in this matter. But it would take more time to completely eradicate it.

“May I know what has come between you two?”

He turned to face his curious twin. “I was inconsiderate,” he replied. “I even forgot that yesterday was his begetting day.

Elladan looked at him in some surprise. “Only that?” he prodded. “I did not think Legolas would take umbrage at an occasional lapse of memory.”

Elrohir shook his head. “‘Twas only the last straw.”

The older twin regarded him thoughtfully then slung an arm over his shoulders and said: “Come, muindor”—brother—“tell me the whole of it.”

And so Elrohir did as they walked back to the house, not bothering to sugarcoat his failings. Elladan stared at him in some wonderment afterwards.

“I confess I cannot believe you allowed things to go that far,” he said.

Elrohir nodded. “I am appalled at myself as well,” he admitted.

“It would seem that in fulfilling your duties as diplomat and king’s counsellor, you forgot that you are also a spouse and lover,” Elladan observed.

“I will make no excuses for my error in this,” Elrohir said. “Legolas did his best to be supportive and asked only for what was his due. But I failed to give him even that. My only concern now is how to make amends to him. It grieves me that I hurt him.” He let out a regretful sigh. “I can think of no gift that could possibly make up for my shortcomings.”

Elladan looked at him intently for a few minutes. At length, he said: “No gift can make up for that indeed,” he conceded. “Save yourself.” At his brother’s bemused reaction, he pointed out: “You are his incomparable Elf-knight. He has oft said so himself. Prove it!”

Elrohir stared at him nonplussed for a moment. And then he smiled. “I hope I can think of something – sufficient.”

“I am certain your creativity is more than equal to the task at hand,” Elladan grinned.

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

Glossary:

lairë - Quenya for summer

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

To be continued…
- 1
- 2
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Greenleaf & Imladris 24 - Degrees of Comfort