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Twilight Tales - Hallowed Fate	By : MPB Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 4698 -:- 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-Meeting
- 2-Learning
- 3-Restraint
- 4-Coping
- 5-Guile
- 6-Awakening
- 7-Undoing
- 8-Musings
- 9-Sojourn
- 10-Reckoning
- 11-Illumination
- 12-Avowal
- 13-Beloved
- 14-Visitations
- 15-Tryst
- 16-Choice
- 17-Torn
- 18-Resolve
- 19-Voyage
- 20-Fate
- 9
- 10
- 11
Chapter X: Reckoning

Three weeks later, Imrahil had so endeared himself to virtually every member of the household that all rued the day when he would need to return south. Celeborn became so fond of him that he began to treat him as if he were yet another grandson, a thing that abashed Imrahil even as it honored him and filled him with pleasure.

The prince, though young in years by elven standards, was old for any mortal though he still did not evince it. Thus, he carried himself not with a swagger but with the grace and elegance of one long in years and experience. He was of an inquisitive bent and enjoyed discussing anything and everything under Middle-earth’s sun if there was something to be learned from it. And he was comely. So comely he could easily be mistaken for one of the Firstborn. Especially when he donned the elvish tunics the brethren pressed him to wear.

He hobnobbed with the warriors and was happy to be their student in anything he was not familiar with. He pored over maps and old manuscripts with the last of the scholars and spent many a late night raptly absorbed in their expositions on elven lore. He visited the Elf-wrights as they crafted things of beauty and fervently expressed his admiration of their skill and work. And he reduced the kitchen staff to stitches when he demanded they teach him how to concoct some of the wondrous delicacies they served.

Had it not been apparent that he was lover to the older twin, many would have wooed him; even the few remaining Elf-women in the haven. Elladan knew and found himself for the first time in the position of one who needed to keep a close eye on what he considered his.

He now regarded his mortal lover as the man walked with him back to the house. Imrahil was quiet this early morn. Unusually so and it perturbed Elladan though he would never admit it.

They had gone for a stroll in the woods beyond the garden. Since their camping holiday years ago, Imrahil had developed an intense liking for the distinct green scent found only where trees grew abundantly, something lacking in a coastal realm.

They came to the garden and decided to linger outdoors for a while longer. Elladan perched himself on the stone balustrade of the garden porch. He patted the space beside him invitingly. But the man shook his head.

“If you do not mind, I would rather remain standing,” he murmured.

Elladan stared at him, suddenly remembering how Imrahil had not sat down to breakfast either but simply consumed an apple while staring out of the dining hall’s wide window. He reached out to draw him closer in concern. “Are you in pain?” he asked, eyes darkening with regret.

Imrahil shrugged. “There is some discomfort,” he admitted. “It will pass.”

Elladan bit his lip guiltily. “Did you use the salve I gave you?” he queried. Imrahil only nodded. Elladan sighed and said: “I am so sorry about last night, Imrahil. You did not deserve it.”

Imrahil touched his fingers to the Elf’s lips to silence him. “Let us not speak of it,” he said. “‘Tis something I would rather forget.”

Elladan drew a rueful breath but said no more. He looked up as Elrohir and Legolas approached, coming around the side of the house at a brisk pace. Both were muddied and bloodied and very much unlike their usual impeccably neat selves. And both were grinning broadly.

“Imrahil!” Elrohir called out. “Alfirin foaled last night. A fine colt!”

Imrahil’s eyes brightened at the news. Elrohir had offered him his mare’s first foal when the prince had shown much concern for the heavily pregnant animal. “That is wonderful to hear,” he said eagerly. “He must be as beautiful as his mother.”

“More like his sire,” Legolas chuckled. “He’s as black as midnight. Would you care to see him?”

“Oh aye,” Imrahil grinned. He glanced at Elladan. “I will not take long.”

Elladan smiled. “Take your time admiring your gift. ‘Tis not every day my brother makes such an offering.”

He watched the three hurry away to the stables, his eyes riveted on his lover’s tall frame. Imrahil never ceased to amaze him with his seemingly bottomless capacity to appreciate whatever delights life brought him. He had not lost his sense of wonder; had not allowed himself to become jaded with the passage of the years. And he refused to harbor grudges; he was one of the few men who could make friends of his former enemies because he did not hold the past against them but chose to judge them by what they did in the present. Elladan’s thoughts turned somber at this point.

It was because of this latter trait that the man was still with him. Elbereth knew that any other person would have steered clear of him after the events of the night before. But Imrahil had forgiven him in spite of the manner in which he had been so flagrantly mistreated.

Lying together in the man’s bed after a pleasant hour of coupling, they had teased each other wickedly as was their wont. He could not even recall what it was that Imrahil had said that had goaded him into drawing the man into a bit of wrestling. But in the course of their play, Imrahil had proven an able opponent and, using a tactic Elladan himself had taught him, had actually managed to come up the victor.

Elladan found himself pinned face down with Imrahil astride his hips. The prince was naturally elated by his unexpected victory and bent low over the Elf with a happy grin.

“It seems all my pains in the drill yard have paid off,” he chuckled. “What say you now, Elf?”

Elladan laughed. “I say get off me!” he exclaimed. “Or do you want me to suffocate?”

“First declare yourself beaten,” Imrahil demanded. “Then I will consider releasing you.”

About to retort, Elladan felt the prince shift above him. And press hard against his backside. In that instant, he stopped thinking rationally and only responded instinctively. He grabbed Imrahil’s restraining arm and, wielding his full elven strength, had thrown off the startled man, forcing him in turn on his belly.

It should have ended there. Had he been thinking clearly it would have ended there and no harm would have been done. Instead, he quickly straddled the prince. He barely noted the alarmed glance Imrahil cast over his shoulder at him. Did not quite register the man’s protest.

“Elladan, what are you—?”

Imrahil cried out hoarsely as he was taken without any warning whatsoever. For the first time, Elladan did not take heed of his comfort or pleasure but rode him hard and fast. Gritting his teeth at such ungentle usage, Imrahil buried his face in the pillow, his hands gripping the sheets tightly.

Only after he was done did Elladan come back to his senses. And realize that his lover had not turned over but remained prone. Staring down at the prince, he noticed the stiff cant of his shoulders, the whitened knuckles of his clutching hands.

“Oh Valar!” he whispered. He touched one tense shoulder and winced when the prince actually flinched. “Imrahil! I am sorry!” he exclaimed remorsefully.

The man turned his head to look at him. The bewilderment and hurt in his countenance smote Elladan brutally. “Why?” Imrahil quietly asked.

Elladan reached over and stroked the rich chestnut locks. “I thought you were going to—” He stopped, shamed.

Imrahil gazed at him with even more pain in his eyes. “Why did you think I would do that?” he queried. “‘Tis something you have not – taught me.”

Elladan swallowed hard, the unspoken words hanging heavily between them. ‘Tis something you have not allowed me.

“I do not know why,” he humbly admitted. “But it was uncalled for and I am truly sorry for hurting you.” He ran hesitant fingers over the man’s chiseled jaw. “Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?”

Imrahil regarded him warily for a spell. Elladan felt a cold chill snake up his spine at that long searching gaze. At length, the prince turned partly on his side to face him. The aquamarine eyes were sad and resigned. That pained Elladan even more.

“Aye, that I can,” Imrahil said very softly. “And more besides.”

Elladan caught his breath at the tacit admission. Imrahil continued to stare at him. When he said nothing, the man sighed and silently rolled over to face the other way. His mute disappointment was deafening in its intensity and it spurred Elladan into action. He gathered Imrahil in his arms and pulled him back into the curve of his body.

Pressing a kiss to the prince’s shoulder, he said, “Thank you.”

Imrahil simply nodded his acknowledgement. Elladan was acutely aware of the inadequacy of his response.

“Elladan?”

The twin came back to the present with a start and turned his head in time to see Celeborn emerge from the house. The silver-haired Elf-lord was studying him curiously.

“Where did Imrahil go?” he asked.

“To see Alfirin’s new colt,” Elladan replied, wondering at his grandsire’s expression. “Elrohir has made a gift of it to him.”

Celeborn smiled slightly. “Your brother and Legolas dote on him,” he commented.

“As do you,” Elladan reminded him with the beginnings of a grin.

“I like him,” Celeborn said frankly. “He is a fine man. A most noble man. Please treat him well, Elladan.”

His incipient smile fading, Elladan flushed at the implicit reproof. “I do treat him well,” he retorted a little indignantly, rising to fully face his grandsire.

“I hope so,” Celeborn said, unperturbed by the twin’s slight ire. “Though in light of what I have just learned...” He shook his head. “I must speak to you on this matter, gwaniuar.”—older twin.

“What matter?”

Celeborn’s folded his arms across his chest. “I overheard your conversation with Imrahil,” he stated. “And your allusion to some hurt you caused him.”

Elladan stared at him then pursed his lips. “I was – rough last night,” he confessed.

Celeborn’s frown deepened. “Why were you?” he questioned. “I cannot conceive of any reason why you would demean him in that manner.”

Elladan shook his head. “There was no rational reason,” he said. “I behaved foolishly, that is all.”

His grandfather’s mouth tightened. “And cruelly I daresay.”

Elladan stared at him startled. “What do you mean?” he demanded.

“You have not been forthright with him about yourself. About the past.”

“The past is past. I do not care to unearth it.”

“And how long do you think will it take before he discovers your taste for the members of his line?” Celeborn said pointedly. “He is not the first of his family you have bedded, grandson. But he is the first to actually set foot in Imladris. Sooner or late he will hear the tales of your incursions on those who came before him. What will he feel when he learns how you seduced and trifled with a goodly number of his ancestors? As you apparently intend to do with him.”

“Grandfather—!”

“Will you deny it?” Celeborn charged softly. “You must take heed, Elladan. You will hurt him gravely if you continue on this path. He does not deserve such hurt. Anyone with eyes can see that he loves you.”

“I never intended for things to go this far,” Elladan protested. “I did not even imagine he would come here!”

“And why not when you invited him?”

Forgetting discretion in his agitation, Elladan cried out angrily: “I did not think he would take it seriously!”

About to speak, Celeborn suddenly stopped and stared at something behind his grandson. Elladan felt his blood run cold. His heart thudding madly, he turned around.

“Sweet Eru,” he whispered in dismay.

Imrahil stood a few paces away from them. His eyes were wounded beyond relief; his face hard and blanched with shock and the pain of betrayal. And then he hurried past both Elves and disappeared into the house.

Elladan made to follow him but Celeborn stayed him with a firm grip on his arm. Unreasonably furious, the twin barked at his grandfather: “Unhand me!”

“What will you say to him, Elladan?” Celeborn said warningly. “What can you possibly say that will soothe a broken heart?”

Elladan stared at the older Elf, his mouth suddenly dry.

********

Imrahil savagely threw his pack onto his bed and began to stuff it with clothing. Fool! he berated himself. What had he thought would come of this liaison? Love? A relationship? Hah! As much chance of that happening as an orc turning over a new leaf.

His hands began to shake so hard he was compelled to stop and still them. Misery washed over him as his musings stubbornly returned to what he had heard. To the evidence of his pathetic folly.

I should never have let him so much as touch me, he thought unhappily. But I let myself be swayed by his beauty and charming manner. Trusted that he thought well enough of me to at least care in some small way for my well being.

That hurt most of all. He had accepted that Elladan did not love him. But to discover that he had been no more than a game to the Elf! A mere challenge. And not even much of one considering how swiftly he had fallen under Elladan’s spell.

Small wonder he was so disturbed when I showed up unbidden, he sighed inwardly. I must have looked like a lovelorn youngster chasing after him all the way here. He cringed at the thought then castigated himself anew. Elbereth, had there ever been a greater idiot than him in all of Arda’s history?

By nightfall, just about everyone in the house would know. The Elves had a way of knowing what was happening even without it being spoken out loud. Well, he would not endure their pity. The humiliation would scar him for the rest of his life if it did not kill him first. Though his hands still trembled he continued with his packing. He could not get away from the valley fast enough.

“What are you doing?”

Imrahil stiffened at the sound of that beloved voice. He refused to turn around. “I am doing my best to rid you of my presence soonest,” he said sarcastically. “My most inconvenient presence.”

“Imrahil, let me explain—” Elladan said.

“To what end?” the prince demanded harshly. “That I may know in full that my family was little more than a source of bed-treats for you?”

“That is not—”

Imrahil cut him off angrily, his hand slicing through the air in a gesture of impatience. “I will no longer burden you, my lord Elf. If you will but provide me with a guide I will be on my way.”

“Imrahil, I do not want you to go!” Elladan protested.

“Enough lies!” Imrahil growled. “I was stupid enough to listen to your blandishments before. But no more. I have learned my lesson very well, thank you.”

“You do not understand,” Elladan desperately said. “I did not—”

“What did I not understand?” Imrahil hissed, facing him at last. “That I was the latest plaything spawned by Dol Amroth for your amusement?” Pained at the mere sight of the Elf-lord, he abruptly turned around and shoved his shirts into the pack. “I finally understand why you panicked when you thought I was going to take you. You could not bear the thought of yielding to one as low in your regard as I!”

“Imrahil, no—”

Elladan laid a hand on his arm in an attempt to stop him. He threw it off angrily.

“Get out! Leave me be!” he snapped without bothering to look. “I want nothing more to do with you.”

As he jerkily completed his chore, he noted the silence. Cautiously, he looked over his shoulder. Elladan was gone. Imrahil swallowed hard. His eyes stung and his throat ached from the monumental effort it had taken not to break down in front of the Elvenlord. He had been determined to know his dignity intact at least.

But now, alone, he could no longer hold in his anguish. Tears slid down his cheeks. But he did not make a sound. His shoulders shook but not a whimper or a sob escaped his lips. He was the proud Prince of Dol Amroth and he comported himself as such. Even when he felt all but shattered to the very core of his being.

To be continued...
- 9
- 10
- 11
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Twilight Tales - Hallowed Fate