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Legolas and the Balrog	By : narcolinde Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 6325 -:- 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
- 9
- 10
- 11
Legolas
and the
Balrog

A Little Legolas story

By
erobey (erobey@gmail.com)
Disclaimer:
Tolkien's not mine.

Italics indicate thoughts.

IX. Hear, Fey Wood Elves, Harken to Me

"Fêrlass!"

With a clump and a clatter the willow wood chair keeled over. One of the bright blue mugs joined it, spilling its steaming, brown contents all over the polished granite floor, as Sîrgel [Running River] dashed from his place at table to avenge the youngest of Thranduil's offspring.

Up leaped the Tawarwaith in a burst of flying golden hair and racing legs as he sought to intercept his brother, upsetting the tall pitcher of water and knocking a plate from the table in his haste.

"Nay Sîr!" he shrieked and pounced at the elder prince's legs, grappling on to one strong thigh and wrapping both his slender arms around it, clinging like a cocklebur on a dog's tail. "Do not blame Fêrlass; [Beech-Leaf] it was the Yejquv [High Council]! Saes!"
"What? Tuiw!" [Sprout] shouted Sîrgel, staggering under the force of his baby brother's onslaught, skidding through the slick puddle. His arms pin-wheeled in a desperate attempt to regain his balance and remain vertical while the disgusting bowl of droppings-laced porridge shot from his grasp. The humble vessel sailed high into the space above him and whirled end over end, miraculously retaining its contents, tumbling gracefully through the air as it ascended toward the ceiling.

With a catastrophic crash the two princes fell to the ground in a disordered heap, each giving an abbreviated cry, one high and piping, the other deep and melodious, indicative of surprised complaint over the unexpected impact. Before they could even think of rising from the mess, the inexorable force of gravity overcame the momentum of the dish and halted it at the peak of its elegant arc. Upsidedown, of course. The bowl disgorged its cargo of tainted gruel all over Sîrgel, plummetted from its elevated position, bounced off his stomach, struck the floor nearby, and shattered into a multitude of fragments with a musically clamourous crescendo.

Dai D�nen began barking emphatically, dancing around her fallen masters, scolding them soundly for such horseplay in the small refectory, yet her long feathered tail vigourously swept the atmosphere in her vicinity. Her diminutive charge was unharmed, after all, and the elves were providing more amusement this morning than on any she could recall from recent memory. In fact, not since Ann�nfaen had demonstrated her Automatic Hair Grooming Machine last summer (on her doting Ada) had the old hunter so enjoyed enforced retirement within the mountain halls.

Toloth and Cugu stared down in open mouthed amazement for a few seconds, for they had risen as soon as the little prince had tackled his brother, uncertain whether to give in to rising mirth or denounce the deplorable situation.

Fêrlass, having heard the commotion and his name, came back through the archway, for he had been lurking just beyond it to espy the result of the prank. He stood smirking over the Crowned Prince sprawled in the culinary wreckage; this was far better than hoped, for he had merely meant the elfling to go without his breakfast. Sîrgel's abasement was an unforeseen bonus for it was rather difficult to get the better of the elder member of Thranduil's brood.

"Oh, Sîr, I am sorry!" quavered the youngest prince, seeing his sibling liberally coated with the disgusting white goo, and then Legolas began to cry, certain he would be scolded for causing it. Besides, he had a pain in his knee and his arm felt sore, too. Between the healers and their over cautious coddling and his nanny's punishment, the Tawarwaith envisioned an entire cycle of Ithil spent indoors doing tasks and lessons.

Dai's display of puppyish jollity immediately dissolved, revealing a frenzied fusion of motherly menace in which she growled and flashed her long gleaming fangs at the older brothers one second then whined and nudged her distraught elfling the next.

The Noldor warriors hastened to comfort Legolas, Sîrgel tried to calm him, and Fêrlass lost his smug expression, replacing it with one of genuine worry for the little one's well being. He truly had no wish to see his baby brother suffer harm over the trick.

"Hush, Muindor dithen [little Brother], do not fret so," urged Sîrgel anxiously, feeling the child's arms and legs for breaks. "I am fine; nothing a bath will not cure."

"It is well, Ernil Vallen [Golden Prince], it is just a broken dish," said Cugu kindly, relieved to note that the heir's quick inspection revealed no injury to the youngling.
"Ai! Are you hurt, Tuiw?" Fêrlass crooned and bent down to peer into the wide, teary, indigo depths.

"I just wanted an apple," Legolas' lamented and Dai's bellowing voice tolled loudly in sympathy.

Thus, Fêrlass failed to hear the vile curse that hissed through Sîrgel's lips ere he launched himself from the floor into his Raven brother's midsection, bearing him down into the growing quagmire of food, coffee, water, and gelatinous porridge.

"moH qa'rol veQ Sopwl! ghIqtal!" [Ugly garbage eating crow! To the death!]

"laM yoq! qachoHlah be'!" [Dirty human! I will change you into a woman!]

Cugu grabbed Legolas up in his arms and stepped nimbly away even as Sîrgel slammed his fist into Raven Dancer's chin. Toloth gracefully pirouetted beyond the reach of the wrestling brothers just quickly enough to dodge a ferocious kick from Fêrlass that missed Sîrgel's groin but connected soundly with his shin. The veterans of the Last Alliance retreated to a table further from the fray when a large glob of sticky gruel soared through the air, missing the elfling's head by mere centimetres.

The Senior Chef's form filled the doorway for an instant, a belligerant frown on her countenance but upon realising the cause of the disturbance her face took on an expression of wary dread and she fled back within the safety of her kitchen. This had all the indications of a sibling civil war and she had no desire to be forced into choosing sides.

"Should we stop them?" queried Toloth, shouting to be heard above the barking of the hound and the cursing and yelling of the woodland princes.

Sîrgel and Fêrlass rolled through the murky brown puddle, effectively sopping it up as their garments and hair absorbed the liquid, a writhing aglomeration of grasping arms and thrashing legs, straining and grunting to best one another. The Crowned Prince might be older and bulkier, but Raven Dancer was quick and clever.
"jegh, Qovpatlh Qa'Hom!" [Surrender, insignificant little animal!]

Sîrgel pinned the younger elf face down on the stone, one arm rigourously bent behind him, and pressed his knee into the small of Fêrlass' back.

"paghlogh!" [Never!]

Raven Dancer gave a fierce shout and executed an impressive reverse kick that planted his booted heel right into Sîrgel's temple. The older elf went down with a loud groan as Fêrlass straddled his legs and seized his wrists, pushing down hard to reduce his momentarily stunned brother's ability to retaliate.

"I know not," Cugu shrugged and turned his gaze to Legolas, perched securely upon his hip. The Noldo could not suppress a smile, for the little one had ceased his tears and was observing his battling brothers with tremendously round blue fascination, thumb between his lips and a handful of the Noldo's long black hair caught in his grimy hand. "What say you, Legolas? Is it best to separate them or allow the Houses of Beech and Raven to settle their differences unimpeded?"

"Valar! At the very least, silence your dog, mellon!" pleaded Toloth. He plugged his offended ears with his index fingers, for Dai had decided to referee the match, snapping and nipping whenever a stray elbow or knee came within reach of her pearly teeth, then standing back to bay at the misbehaving siblings.

Legolas regarded each of the friendly soldiers gravely, transferred his sight to the hound, switched to the struggle on the floor and frowned. Both princes were covered in the remains of the breakfast, clumps of porridge adhering to matted hair, coffee and plum cake smeared across stained clothing. They were each collecting an unsettling number of cuts and contusions across their faces and both sported swollen bloody noses, yet neither was likely to relent until loss of consciousness forced defeat.

Sîrgel had regained his senses and freed one hand which was inexorably shoving Fêrlass' jaw heavenward. The oldest raven twin countered this by repeatedly punching his brother in the ear. From their baby brother's perspective, the princes were attempting to anihillate one another. Legolas removed his thumb from his mouth, inhaled a mighty breath, and shouted with considerable volume for so small an elf.

"mevyap! [Stop! Enough!] Dai D�nen, tiro!" [Dai D�nen, guard!]

Instantly the chaser's baying voice subsided and she assumed the eerie stance of dangerous vigilance the Noldor had experienced in person earlier that morn. Just as abruptly, both the older princes froze and turned their eyes first to the dog, then to their scowling little brother, and finally one another. With unspoken accord each relinquished his hold and they disengaged, rolling up to their feet and trading dark glares and low words.

"yIntagh." [stupid, spoiled idiot.]

"plaQta'." [piece of sh-.]

Legolas wriggled in Cugu's hold and the warrior set him on his feet. The youngster trotted over to his canine protector's side and flung an arm over the hunter's shoulders, gazing upon his brothers with a mixture of regret and remonstrance transforming his cherubic features.

"mevyap! qaDvam pItlh!" [Enough! This test of ability is done!]

Now the brothers stared at the elfling and his chaser, then at each other, then broke into giggles to hear him announce this imperious proclamation. Legolas was quite pleased to have made them grin and patted Dai D�nen in gratitude for her assistance. Before any of the siblings could move forward to real conciliation, however, the trio simultaneously stiffened, heads turning in unison toward the open doorway, and three identical gasps of horror fled from the brothers' throats.

A high pitched whine squeezed out of the old hunter's throat and she sat down atop her tail.

"Eru's arse!" cursed Fêrlass. "We are betrayed!"

"We should run!" whimpered Legolas.

"Too late," intoned Sîrgel and laid his hand on his baby brother's shoulder in a gesture meant both to impart courage and prevent its counterpart from inducing the child's flight.

"Now look what you have caused!" hissed Raven Dancer and flashed his piercing midnight orbs in Legolas' direction.

"Sorry!" murmured the elfling, the word so soft only one of the First-born could hear, and hung his head dejectedly. He did not understand how so much commotion could result from simply refusing his porridge. "I did not think it would matter to eat something else."
"Nay, it is not your fault, Tuiw, do not listen to him!" whispered Sîrgel and elbowed his Raven brother sharply in the ribs.

"Ai! I will repay you later!" Fêrlass answered in equally subdued wrath, rubbing his side. "It is fine to eat something else but not to reveal the reason why!" Raven Dancer scolded in hushed but highly aggrieved cadence.

Sîrgel evidently had much more he wished to say but stifled the urge when Dai gave another miserable whimper and dropped to the floor, chin upon her paws, brows wobbling in worry as her eyes shifted from Legolas to Sîr to the doorway and back.

The Noldor exchanged concerned sidelong glances and stared briefly at the empty portal before resuming their observation of the princes.

Thranduil's sons hastily arranged themselves in orderly fashion, ranked by age, and the bedraggled pair made futile attempts to wipe away blood and mush while rearranging tunics and pushing tangled tresses from their faces. All three straightened their spines and squared their shoulders, chins up and chests out, eyes trained on an indiscriminate spot on the far wall, and stood stock still at attention with military mien the elite troops of Glorfindel's reknowned fighting forces would have difficulty surpassing.

Seconds sped by and the brothers did not so much as twitch a fingertip; scarcely drawing breath in their efforts to remain absolutely motionless, awaiting their doom. From the expressions of stalwart resignation plastered over their fair features, the elves looked as if they were facing death at the hands of bloodthirsty Orcs, determined to meet it bravely and with honour.

The Noldor warriors again traded puzzled eye contact and once more favoured the empty doorway with their regard. Toloth coughed.

"What is�" he began, the words more a movement of lips and tongue than speech.

"Shh!" Legolas momentarily broke his cool reserve to admonish the visitor, darting eyes replete with exasperated entreaty, and then returned to his imitation of sculpted statuary.

"But who�" Cugu tried next and three pairs of aggravated, anxious orbs bore into his, ordering silence, then flickered away to concentrate on the bare wall. He complied, a distinct sense of foreboding crawling along under the skin of his back, fearful of what sort of taskmaster was approaching.

Thranduil? The Silver Queen? Mayhap the fearsome matron-chief of Nost Amlug Elu? [the House of the Pale Blue Dragon] Cugu stole a look at his mate and knew the same speculations crowded Toloth's thoughts also. Unconsciously both old soldiers drew their deportment into line with their youthful hosts, proud and severe enough to pass inspection by Gil-Galad himself.
Then the Noldo heard what the Wood Elves' hypersensitive hearing had detected: soft measured footfalls propelling someone down the corridor. These sound were too faint to be made by the mighty elven King, too short in span to belong to Huneb'ell the stern dragon wife, and not rapid enough to be caused by the efficient celerity of Ithiloth. Now all six occupants (including Dai D�nen) of the morning room held their breaths in anticipation.

The footsteps ceased just beyond the portal and Cugu dared to look. All the air gushed from his lungs in amazement as he gaped at the figure standing on the threshold. It was so far from the dire form he had expected that he almost laughed aloud as he traded amused relief with Toloth. There in the hall stood the smallest elleth the old warrior had ever beheld, solemnly documenting every detail of the disordered room and the princes' deshabille, presenting an absolutely inscrutable expression upon her wise, heart-shaped visage.

She was no taller than a hobbit and was as delicate as a hummingbird, with flowing white hair that trailed almost to her ankles. She wore it bound back in warrior's braids and still it reached this august length for never had she willingly let a blade shear its ends. Attractive and unlined were her features yet shadowed grey eyes revealed her to be an ancient nonetheless; much of the silvans' history had she witnessed with them over the Ages that had passed.

It was Eirien, of course, nanny to all of Thranduil's brood and a Teleri who had awakened at Cuivienen.

Her garments were simple and unadorned but refined in cut and style, made of the finest woven wool. The high collared dress was a delightful shade of pink and over it was bound a pinafore of deep indigo. From below the mid-calf hem of the skirt, Eirien's legs were encased in cream-coloured hose and upon her feet were leather slippers died black as coal. Minute hands were clasped before her and about the child-sized left wrist was a loose mithril chain upon which hung a set of keys in vastly different sizes. A plain gold band on the index finger of her right hand proclaimed her bound in marriage.

The nanny was smiling but, though her crimson lips upturned in a pleasing manner, her cool slate eyes shared her disappointment and chagrin to see her charges in such a low estate. She pressed her palms together, hands steepled before her chest and bowed, much as Legolas had done in his greeting to the visitors, and when she came upright she slowly shook her head and lowered her lashes as if in shame.

All three princes visibly trembled at this and Cugu felt his pulse jump as his gaze ricocheted between this fragile seeming inu and the miscreants.

She did not speak, instead favouring each brother with a long, accusingly sorrowful stare.

Finally, Legolas broke.

"Saes, Eirien, it was all my fault," he mourned and burst into tears, flinging his small body into her ready arms as he buried his face against her chest. "Do not punish Sîr and Fêr, please! I will clean everything up; and there is no need to tell Ada about it!"

He was sobbing most pitifully and she gently rubbed his shoulder to calm him and then lifted his dripping chin to gaze into his wet, fearful eyes, yet no words passed her lips.

"Nay, it is not so," insisted Sîrgel. "I am eldest and I am responsible, for I was the one watching over Tuiw this morn." He drew a sharp breath as her penetrating gaze locked with his and the Crown Prince swallowed.

Eirien had nothing to say.

"Ah, that is noble but unnecessary, Sîr. I am old enough to answer for my deeds. Eirien, the little one had no part in this and Sîrgel was merely trying to protect Legolas. It was just a�" Raven Dancer's speech cut off instantaneously as the long-lived elleth's concentrated scrutiny plumbed his psyche to its core. The future Lord of the Raven clan struggled to contain a minute, pathetic bleat from getting past his lips and failed.

Still the dainty lady remained quiet.

"Hiril Einior, [Lady Elder] it is surely not so grave an error. It is but one broken bowl!" announced Toloth in exasperation and suddenly froze under the chillingly incisive soul-scrutiny that swept away all ability to think rationally.

"Toloth?" Cugu muttered in fright, passing his hand in front of his mate's eyes to part them from the wily elleth's enchanting stare. Then he felt Eirien's vision rest upon him like a tangible weight and he gasped, turning to merge his sight and hers, enthralled as she peered into his heart and discovered all his secrets.

With a small sigh the nanny favoured each prince with her fearsome, probing observation a final time and then released them from her mesmerising interrogation. Eirien smiled as she gathered Legolas close to her heart for a long squeeze before holding him out at arm's reach and tendering a more kindly examination over his worried features.
"Brannon Glad [Woods Lord] I will say nothing to Aran Thranduil for that is your duty. I know you never lie to your Ada." Her voice was soft and musical like the tinkling of tiny crystal wind chimes hung upon the branches to resound the song of Manw� as he passed amid the trees.

"No, Eirien, not ever! That is what I tried to tell Glamor [Echo] and Lothanor!" [Sunflower] the elfling insisted and added an emphatic shake of his head.

Next to him Fêrlass groaned and Sîrgel silenced him with another elbow jab.

"I believe you, for never have you been untruthful to me either," Eirien shot the older brothers a cold glare as she patted her charge's back. "Now, did you not promise our honoured guests a tour of the stronghold grounds this day? Do not delay any longer lest these Noldor ponder your brothers' example and conclude that we are rude and uncultured. Go to the kitchens and have Gelir [Merry (one of the cooks)] gather up a fitting repast for an outdoor excursion. When you return, Cugu and Toloth will be ready for the adventure."

"Hannaden, Eirien!" [My Thanks, Eirien] Legolas exclaimed and, with another hug for his nanny and a quick backward glance to share his jubilation with his new friends, raced from the refectory, calling for Gelir as he went, Dai D�nen scrambling after.

Once he was gone the venerable nanny straightened to her full height of one-and-one-quarter metres and the warmth receded from the small chamber.

"As for you two, it is long past your days of infancy and I am displeased with such childish behaviour. I am not, however, surprised. See to it that bedlam does not deteriorate into pandemonium. There is an important issue of diplomacy under discussion in Aran Thranduil's Halls."

"Aye, Hiril Einior, gohenna nin," [Aye, Lady Elder, forgive me] the Beech and the Raven Lords murmured as they bowed.

Eirien cocked a commanding eye at the chastised princes that startled them into action. Fêrlass retrieved a bucket and mop while Sîrgel brought the broom and dustbin. They were busily cleaning and scrubbing before a minute had passed. That left only the Noldor to face the indomitable seer. She gave them her friendly smile and gestured toward the herb garden beyond the open wall, preceding them into the sunlight.

"I do not approve of male union, but customs are different in foreign lands; it is not my place to judge. Yet I am Legolas' guardian and so my counsel you will heed," her melodious voice was incongruously daunting and held the weight of ancient law within its dulcet timbre.

"I understand, Hiril Einior," [Lady Elder] spoke Cugu and bowed politely. "We will not speak of our bond with the princeling."

"Aye, he is much to young to comprehend such matters. In any case, the nature of desire is something he should discuss with his Adar and not strangers," added Toloth.

"Then I am satisfied. I thank you for the kindness you have shown our Tawarwaith. His burden is great and any diversion from his grief is welcome. It is long since he has anticipated an outing with so much joy," she said with genuine gratitude and her smile was as if Estë had bestowed a gentle blessing over the visiting warriors. "And make certain to bolt your chamber door for the remainder of your stay." With that final reproof, the august soul-reader daintily dipped her head in farewell and departed, heading out through the flower beds. They lost sight of her amid the towering sunflowers.

"Ulmo's balls, she knows everything now!" grumbled Fêrlass as soon as he was certain of her exit. "She will inform Hîren Adar and our punishments will be doubled at the very least!"

"Aye, and that is your doing, torog rein," [troll droppings] Sîrgel rejoined. "Why did you have to pull such a contemptible prank? What if Tuiw got sick from that vile mush?"

"Valar! Tuiw would never have eaten it, alhand n�rael. [stupid swamp rat] He knew at once the porridge was altered. He would only have missed the morning meal, nothing more, and I brought him some plums and a slice of cheese to hold him until luncheon." By way of proof Raven Dancer retrieved the squashed hunk of fruit and congealed whey from his apron pocket, taking up his brother's hand so as to land the oozing mass in Sîrgel's palm.

"Ugh!" grunted the Crowned Prince and flung the disgusting conglomeration back at Fêrlass' face, who ducked. The ruined snack landed on the just washed floor with a weighty splat. "Clean it up!" commanded Sîrgel, pointing.

"You threw it there; mop the floor yourself!" countered Fêrlass, tossing the handle of the implement at his brother and kicking the bucket across the floor toward him. A large wave of dirty water sloshed out and painted the granite with another grimy puddle.

A stentorian thwack rang through the room as Sîrgel parried the mop with his broomstick, whirling the sopping strands back around right under the Raven twin's nose.

"And how is it Yejquv [High Council] met without me? No rules can be passed without my vote!" the Crowned Prince snarled, wielding the broom like a staff.

Fêrlass snatched the mop's wooden dowel before it clattered to the floor and matched his brother's fighting stance, heedless of the dripping strings that rained upon his shoes.

"You were off courting with Tulus, [Poplar] muindor, and the issue could not wait. It is not our fault that you shirked your duty as qup'a'! [eldest]

The two were on the verge of descending into combat again when Legolas staggered unsteadily back into the room with the straps of a stuffed pack draped over his straining arms.

"Daro!" both the older siblings yelled in unison, not wishing for Legolas to slip on the slick stone and attract Eirien with a fresh round of tears.

Legolas jumped and froze in mid-step, staring from one to the other in dread.

"Are you angry with me? I did not want her to find out, truly!" he pleaded, all his happiness over the promised outing vanishing under the pall of his siblings' displeasure.

"Nay, Tuiw, we are not upset with you. Much." groused Fêrlass. "But the matter of betraying the Avari Yejquv [Avari High Council] still needs to be resolved."

"But Fêr, I did not mean to!" cried the elfling, close to tears again.

"And I cannot believe Eirien is not only refusing to add to your punishment but actually lifting the one imposed before!" Fêrlass thundered.

"But I did not do anything!" railed the Tawarwaith. "Lothanor is the one who should be punished; she made up the rules."

"Hush now, Legolas!" pleaded Sîrgel nervously, glancing at the doorway, and picked his brother up to carry him beyond the spill. "We know that. Do not worry over it; we will resolve it later."

"Is everything all right?" asked Cugu, striding back inside upon hearing the Golden Prince's despairing words. He glared at the elder sons of Thranduil disapprovingly. He could not fathom their bizarre mixture of alien and Sindarin speech nor determine how the silvans' discussion had anything to do with tainted porridge, though the nanny must have learned enough. The older two wanted to lay the burden for the mishap on the little one, however, and this he would not condone.
"Aye, it is well, mellon," assured Greenwood's heir. He set the baby of the family down and took the pack, passing it to the Noldo. "We will take care of everything in here; go and enjoy the day with Legolas."

The warrior let his discontented appraisal linger a minute longer before an impatient tug on his hand alerted him to Legolas' eagerness to get outside. Cugu smiled down at the Tawawaith as the elfling led him into the sunshine, meeting with Toloth just beside a small wooden structure that proved to be a rabbit warren. As Legolas chattered happily, introducing them to the fluffy hares as though they were pets instead of dinner components, the Noldor exchanged silent astonishment over the nanny's mind-reading gift.

"Ernil Vallen, [Golden Prince] how came Eirien to be your nanny?" asked Toloth, interrupting the child's ongoing explanation of each rabbit's personality.

"I know not; Eirien has always been the nanny," Legolas shrugged.

"Not easy to fool such a one. Does she always read hearts without asking first? I was not ready for that," complained Cugu to his small host.

"Ask? Should she do that? It is just something that happens, like looking with her eyes. If you are there, she will see you, except Ada says she sees with her soul." Legolas gazed up, worried. "Is it impolite? She would not wish to be rude!"

"Nevermind, pen neth, it was just a surprise. We have only met a seer once before," reassurred Cugu and patted his shoulder. "Tell me, does Eirein ever meet with your Ada's councils? Does she meet all foreigners that venture to the Greenwood?"

"I do not think so," Legolas' brow wrinkled, for he could not remember any visitors to the stronghold besides the Noldor.

"He is too young to answer such a question!" scoffed Toloth and swatted his mate on the arm. "And the whole reason we are here is because no elves have come to Greenwood since the last Age ended."
Not even Galadriel could get as much out of me in a month's worth of attempts. Toloth thought. Celebrian would have welcomed such a governess when the twins were younglings. His mate's expression revealed concurrence.

The pair dearly hoped to find Erestor and warn him before he ran into the deceptively delicate nanny.

Tbc.
- 9
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- 11
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Legolas and the Balrog