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Twilight Tales - An Ounce of Kindness	By : MPB Category: -Multi-Age > General Views: 26418 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- 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.

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Chapter IX

Eryn Galen, laer TA 235

“Legolas!”

One golden head turned amongst the younglings engaged in archery practice in the wide clearing behind the barracks which served as archery yard and sparring field for the Woodland Realm's warriors. Legolas lowered his bow when he saw Elivorn swiftly crossing the grassy expanse. The dark-haired prince gestured to him to meet him halfway and Legolas did as he was bid, surprised by his brother's urgency. Yet Elivorn did not look anxious, only in haste.

“What is it?” he asked as soon as they neared each other.

“Come at once if you wish to welcome the gwenyn”-twins-Elivorn told him, taking his arm.

Legolas caught his breath. He did not resist his brother's tug on his arm but hurried after him. “The twins are here? But Elrohir's last letter said they would not come until autumn.”

Elivorn shrugged. “Mayhap their plans changed. Surely you do not object to celebrating your begetting day with Elrohir.”

“I certainly do not!” Legolas agreed, eyes sparkling with delight.

“Off with you then. The others are already headed out front with Father. But I cannot find Aelluin.”

“Try the barracks,” Legolas giggled before racing off.

Elivorn sighed and shook his head. Aye, he should have thought of that.

In the meantime, Legolas returned to his quarters. He had been out all morning and felt a touch scruffy. He would have just enough time for a quick wash before changing into a fresh shirt.

It was in the midst of his ablutions that the wave of elation washed over him. It was different from anything he had felt before when he was about to see Elrohir after a long parting. Ridiculous as it seemed, he was excited to be with the Elf-knight once more that he might behold the latter's beauty.

It had started half a dozen years back, this awareness of the comeliness of other Elves. It had shocked him when he first felt a strange enjoyment in noting the physical differences between Elf-maids and males. Had been thoroughly befuddled when he found himself watching the gracefully swaying hips of the ellith of his father's court as they made their way down the palace corridors. Or surreptitiously noting the sleekly muscled limbs of the warrior ellyn as they went through their paces at the drill yard. Such unseemly inclinations would have frightened him had he not seen those same symptoms in his fellow younglings.

Later, he came to realize that though they shared the same strange malady, their cure was not his. He could not fail to see the flirtations that occurred between his fellows and other frequently older Elves though these were never flagrantly carnal in nature. Thranduil did not countenance wanton public conduct within his halls and an Elf could find himself out on his pointed ear if he did not behave himself. The king did not spare the ladies of his court either and they were as discreet about their affairs as a Dwarf was secretive about his hoard of gold. Nonetheless, Legolas soon perceived that many of these encounters led to assignations behind closed doors.

Legolas was no feeble-minded fool and by way of loose talk and chance glimpses, he learned something of what went on behind those closed doors though not the exact details thereof. And he discerned the general air of felicity that enshrouded his fellow youths the morn after. It did not take him long to inveigle his sire and his brother Galvreth into providing further enlightenment and thereby confirmed that there was a solution to his fraught feelings. But he also felt that the solution was not for him. At least not unless it was administered by the right person.

He had not seen Elrohir in all these years for duty had kept the twins engaged elsewhere. But he had known even as he learned to appreciate the fairness of others that none compared to his Elf-knight. His days were filled with the reality of the Elves about him but his nights were haunted by dreams of one who was not. And the dreams proved far more potent than what was at hand. They stirred him in ways he had never imagined.

About this time, he also came to recognize the pleasure other Elves took in looking at him. And some had gone so far as to tell him so. He had gotten used to having his blossoming beauty extolled; to his handsomeness being lauded by coy maids and his developing form praised by flirtatious males. But it rarely went beyond speech. For he could not conceive of letting another touch him in any manner that was not strictly platonic. Such caresses made him uneasy and he did not shy from making his displeasure clear when liberties were taken with him. And it was not merely because of the strictures placed on him by his betrothal to Elrohir, the fundamentals of which had been gradually explained to him over the years. It had to do with Elrohir himself.

He may have been bewildered by his burgeoning desires but he knew with unerring certainty that only one person would sooth them. And now that person was here. Taking a deep steadying breath, Legolas left his quarters and headed out to meet his much longed-for Elf-knight.

**********

The brethren arrived to a gracious welcome in front of the delved palace. Servants took their saddlebags and bore them to their respective chambers while the king greeted them with much warmth. But to Elrohir's surprise, only his older sons flanked Thranduil. Where was Legolas? The prince was always the first of his family to greet him when he arrived in the forest kingdom.

He was just about to inquire as to the Elfling's whereabouts when a joyful cry preempted him. Legolas ran across the bridge to him and threw himself into his arms. One thing the young prince had yet to learn and that was how to welcome his intended with due formality. Thranduil sighed with resignation and Haldoron rolled his eyes while the others smothered their laughter. Only Nimaras did not view the proceedings with much indulgence but that was no longer surprising.

Legolas hugged the Elf-knight hard. “You are early!” he exclaimed.

Elrohir drew slightly away to look at him and his smile faltered briefly as he caught his breath at the astounding comeliness that met his eyes. “And you are late,” he said, hastening to cover up his momentary disconcertment. He fingered a not quite correctly fastened collar. “Did we interrupt some pursuit of import, lass dithen?”-little leaf?

“Nay, I was only at archery practice and thought to freshen up ere I met you,” Legolas explained. “And I am not little anymore!” he added protestingly. “I shall soon be as tall as you and Elladan.”

“That remains to be seen,” Elrohir chuckled. “Though I will concede that you have grown some once more. Nevertheless, you will always be my little leaf,” he teased. “And 'twas thoughtful of you to consider my sensibilities. I have never been fond of grubby Elflings.”

It was a patent falsehood of course considering how often he had cuddled a bedraggled Legolas through the years in the wake of play or exercise. Legolas responded with a pout and a playful shove. Whereupon, Elrohir snickered and leaned down to bestow the customary kiss of greeting.

Legolas' gasp of surprise as soon as their lips met alerted him to yet another change in the maturing prince. He noted the sudden color in Legolas' cheeks and the unwonted diffidence in his sapphire eyes. Elrohir stifled a sigh. So, it has begun, he thought. Legolas was at last aware of certain bodily needs.

It was only to be expected given that the prince was approaching his thirty-fifth year, a time when a youngling's emotional and physical changes were at their most turbulent. Many human males would have already lain with their first woman by this time. Not so with Elves who waited until their majority before engaging in complete intimacy if they desired it. Except here, Elrohir reminded himself.

A fair number of Legolas' contemporaries in the kingdom would have lost their innocence by now. As Thranduil had explained to Elrond so many years ago, it was not uncommon among the Wood-elves to bed and wed ere coming of age. The one change to the custom was that it was now considered irresponsible and uncouth to imperil an Elf-maid's wellbeing by getting her with child before her fourth decade. Oropher's influence no doubt, Elrohir thought, for such had not been the case in those almost forgotten years drowned in the deeps of time.

Elrohir thought quickly. He could not ignore the prince's reaction and pretend he had not noticed it for it had been much too obvious to go unmarked. However, to call attention to it would only discomfit him further. The best course of action would be to acknowledge it in a roundabout way.

“You are also grown astonishingly beautiful, Legolas,” he quietly said. He smiled at the startled look on the prince's face. “And grown enough to be lauded for it.”

Legolas gazed at him with pleasure, his earlier embarrassment forgotten as he recalled that old conversation. “Do you truly think so?”

Elrohir snorted. “If your people have not been singing your praises, they must be blind or terribly lacking in good taste.”

The young Elf blushed again but his smile did not wane. “They do,” he admitted. “And 'tis strange to hear them. But I had hoped you shared their opinion of me and - and I am glad that you do, Elrohir.”

The rest of the group had begun to walk back toward the palace. Elrohir linked arms with Legolas and they followed the others. “I indeed share their opinion, ernilen”-my prince-the Elf-knight said. “And I heartily regret that I was not the first to express it.”

Legolas dimpled and the thought that he would love to kiss each dimple fleetingly crossed Elrohir's mind, which was cause for more self-chastisement.

“You may not have been the first but 'tis your praise that I longed for,” the prince sighed happily. He leaned against Elrohir with a contented smile. “My begetting day will be perfect now that you are here.”

He paid no attention to the attention his affectionate gesture garnered them. Did not realize that, for the first time, they appeared as they were in fact. A betrothed couple. And in the green wood that meant so much more than the mere exchange of vows and the contract that sealed them.

Blissfully unaware of the speculation about the current state of his relationship with Elrohir, Legolas watched Elladan and Galvreth quietly converse as they walked just behind the king and Haldoron. Something had changed between the two ever since Galvreth's first visit to Rivendell. The very air between them seemed charged and Legolas had a good idea what caused that charge. He glanced at Haldoron. The Crown Prince was not amused. Indeed, he was doing his best not to look back and glower at Galvreth and at the same time trying to feign indifference to his brother's obvious rapport with the older twin. Legolas smothered a rather unregal snicker ere turning his attention back to Elrohir as they went on to the twin's chamber.

Lounging on the divan beneath the wide window, he watched the Elf-knight unpack his belongings, sorting them as he did. Soiled apparel was thrown into the laundry basket; the rest was neatly folded and placed in the wooden wardrobe in the corner of the room. Legolas noted that there was more clothing that needed laundering than fresh ones and he wondered whence Elrohir had come.

“How came you to be here so soon?” he asked. “You said in your last letter that you could not visit earlier than leaf-fall.”

Elrohir paused in his task to answer him. “And that was the truth of it for we had been tracking a bold band of Orcs that dared pillage hamlets and villages east of Imladris. But in their last raid, they carried off several humans with them and we gave chase ere they should have the chance to turn their captives into a meal.”

Legolas shivered in revulsion and horror. He knew of the atrocities committed by Orcs against all other races and sometimes even against their own kind. But he had never seen the creatures, much less fought them. He stared at Elrohir in even greater respect, realizing that the younger twin had already had more than his fair share of encounters with the foul beasts.

“Did you catch them?” he asked with morbid excitement.

“Aye, we did, on the western face of the Misty Mountains. We slew many but we also had to rescue the captives and that permitted a good number to flee. We could not let them elude us again for they would only spawn anew and come back to plague us. And so we followed them over the mountains for it turned out that their lair faced east. We caught up with them ere they could disappear into their holes and destroyed them.”

“You did not get hurt, did you, Elrohir?” Legolas asked anxiously.

Elrorhir smiled. “Nay, I was unscathed,” he said. “But when I realized how far down the eastern side we had travelled I decided to come here instead of returning home with the others. Naturally, Elladan preferred to accompany me.”

“Naturally since Galvreth would give him a right welcome,” Legolas giggled.

Elrohir grinned and shook his head. “Shush, they are good friends and nothing more,” he cautioned. At Legolas' skeptical reaction, he firmly declared: “Believe me, Legolas, my brother is of no mind to bed yours.”

Legolas blinked in surprise. “Why? Does he not find Galvreth to his liking?”

“Oh, he does. Too much in fact.”

He chuckled when the bafflement in Legolas' eyes deepened. Changing the topic ere the prince could delve further, he asked: “How goes Aelluin's liaison with Gilthalion?”

“As strong as ever though they still see each other on the sly.”

“Why, pray tell? Have they not informed your father of their relationship?”

“What? And let Papa know that his son is oft ridden by an Elf who is younger than his august self by a mere century or so?”

Elrohir shook his head. “Such language, pen dithen”-little one. “I see your brothers have not learned to watch their tongues in your presence.”

“I am not little anymore!” Legolas reiterated indignantly. “And why should they watch their tongues? 'Tis not as if I am still a child to be overly coddled.”

Elrohir chose not to respond to that and instead resumed putting his belongings away. Legolas was indeed no longer a child but neither was he an Elf of age for all his rapidly emerging graces. And such abundant graces at that. The Elf-knight firmly set aside his treacherous thoughts and turned his musings to other matters. Primarily the changes in Legolas' family since he had last sojourned here six years ago, some for the better, some for the worse and still others for - well, time would tell whether those others were for good or ill.

Haldoron had altered little with the passing years. He was still a close-minded, supercilious Elf despite a number of stays in Rivendell. But it could hardly be expected of him to learn anything if he set off with the determination to discover naught but the failings of the valley realm. Thus, he returned from his trips as hidebound and prejudiced as ever. Thranduil had since given up and now seemed to regard Aelluin as his de facto heir. The brethren suspected that if the Elven-king had his way, Haldoron would still wear the woodland crown when the time came but it would be Aelluin who would rule in truth. That would ensure that the kingdom would lie in capable hands for Aelluin had the makings of an able leader of Elves.

The second prince's fervent desire for the Elf-knight had passed upon the onset of his affair with the valiant Gilthalion who had captained the Woodland Realm's army since Oropher's time. But he retained a soft spot for the Elf-knight and always behaved genially toward him. The same could not be said of Nimaras.

He waxed hot and cold when in Elrohir's presence and the younger twin could never be quite certain whether he would be greeted with cordiality or treated with frigid courtesy. Not that Elrohir cared in the least about what Nimaras thought of him so long as it did not affect Legolas adversely. And it had been quite a while since his dear prince last endured being the butt of Nimaras' mean-spirited japes and even longer since Lalorn had abetted them.

The two were no longer the close accomplices they'd once been on account of growing differences in their interests. While Nimaras continued to make his way up the ranks of their father's army, Lalorn had began to indulge a heretofore unplumbed scholarly bent, something he had not discovered while in constant company with a brother whose love of the outdoors far exceeded any affection for the insides of a library. This was not to say that he forsook his soldier's guise - no royal son of the Woodland Realm could forego military service. But he now spent much of his leisure time with Elves of a like persuasion. Such as his brother Elivorn.

The dark-haired prince was being groomed to take a place in his father's Council along with Haldoron and Aelluin. His sharp intellect and ability to assess a situation without being overly emotional about it were traits that would serve any royal advisor in good stead. If he had a fault, it was his distant demeanor - the impulsive, bawdy-tongued youth of yore had been replaced with a cool, reserved Elf who could still turn a crimson-tinged phrase but more than not chose otherwise. Mayhap the elleth he was courting was to blame. The Elf-maid was daughter to Thranduil's chief counsellor and was a diffident, somewhat prudish creature. When he heard of her, Elrohir voiced the opinion that she needed a good tumbling and wondered why Elivorn did not see to that need forthwith. To which Galvreth had replied that his brother was merely biding his time lest he terrify her into abstaining from any carnal endeavors for the rest of her eternal life.

Galvreth. Elrohir smiled to himself as he considered the silver-haired prince. Now wouldn't that be a colossal jest on all of them should the House of Elrond be enriched not by one but two woodland princes? Then again, Thranduil might insist that 'twas the other way around and that it was his family that had gained.

“Are you done, Elrohir?” he heard Legolas impatiently ask.

He shut the wardrobe door and turned to find the prince practically hovering over him. “Why the haste?

“I want to spend time with you,” Legolas frankly replied. “I missed you.”

Elrohir smiled and put an arm around the young Elf's shoulders. “I missed you, too. Let us go then. Mayhap you can introduce me to Elivorn's lady love at last. Not that I harbor any interest in her,” he swiftly added to forestall incipient suspicions of his intentions. “But I am curious as to what manner of elleth has enchanted your brother so completely, that is all.”

“I don't understand it myself ,” Legolas grinned. “She is too solemn for my taste. And no lover of the outdoors. She is a poor excuse for a Wood-elf in my opinion!”

**********

Scant moonlight streamed into the well-appointed chamber of the Woodland Realm's youngest prince, impeded by the lush growth of the forest outside. It was well past the hour for any sensible youngster's bedtime but not quite late enough for an Elf who was in that in-between place between childhood and full maturity. As such, Legolas felt his restlessness keenly.

He sighed as an odd feeling of melancholy surged through him while he dressed for bed. Running a slender hand through his still damp hair, he smoothed out the few knots that tangled the shoulder-length locks. It was only in recent years that he had grown his hair long enough to braid and there were times when he longed for the days when he could wear it loose and not have to worry about clasps and bands and all manner of ornaments that either pulled your hair so tightly it left your scalp feeling raw, got hopelessly and sometimes painfully snagged or simply fell off at the most inconvenient moments.

Thinking about the old days led in turn to thoughts of his growing years under Elrohir's tender regard. And a time when he'd felt as if he were the center of the Elf-knight's world. Of course, looking back from a more mature perspective, he knew that had never been so. Could not be so given Elrohir's station as a prince in his own right, duty-bound to his lord and lands. But it had felt that way simply because Elrohir had given him as much of his attention as possible whenever they were together.

That was the root of his discontent now, he realized. He had wanted to spend the rest of the day with Elrohir and he had. But they had hardly been alone together. And after six years apart, he had longed to have the Elf-knight to himself. Particularly with his unruly feelings running roughshod over his reason.

He blew his breath out in frustration. He should have expected it, of course. Whenever the brethren visited they came both as guests and purveyors of news of the lands without. The Woodland Realm was fairly isolated from the outside word and few of its folk dared travel further than the friendly human communities to the east or beyond the banks of Anduin to the west. And so visitors were always plumbed for reports on anything and everything that took place beyond the bounds of the Silvan Elves' territory - political convolutions, the rise and fall of realms, the births and deaths of people of import and even mundane matters such as shifts in fashion, newfangled inventions and unfamiliar foodstuffs and their preparation.

As a result, the twins had spent much of this first day with scarcely a moment to themselves. Hardly would he and Elrohir retreat to some corner when someone would approach them to ply the Elf-knight with questions or engage him in debate. Or simply to savor his Peredhel beauty and wit up close. This last had annoyed Legolas no end and many an Elf had been treated to his baleful glare during the course of the day.

In a sudden fit of temper, Legolas picked up a discarded boot and hurled it across his room. Thankfully, the boot did not collide with anything more fragile than the solid wooden chest by his window that held his most treasured possessions - a few favorite books, a hand-carved statuette of his first pony, a colorful string-puppet that had faded with time and had been his mother's last gift to him before she passed away and the child-sized archery set and long white knife Elrohir had gifted him on his very first visit to Rivendell.

He glared at the chest then at the window. A strong evening breeze rustled the leaves on the tree outside and one of its branches tapped against the outer wall. An old memory came to him and he suddenly grinned, his ire evaporating along with his sense of propriety.

He clambered out his window, scaled the mighty boughs of the tree and climbed up to the open deck atop the pavilion that had once been his mother's favorite place to rest come evening. Scurrying over to the opposite side, he shimmied down the tree that grew just outside Elrohir's window. In minutes, he was perched on a thick branch just a few feet away from the younger twin's window. He noiselessly inched his way forward. How surprised Elrohir would be when he entered his chamber through the most unlikely way, he thought with a grin.

He peered into the room, expecting to find Elrohir reading in bed. He nearly gasped out loud when he saw the Elf-knight. Elrohir was indeed in bed but reading was the farthest thing from his mind at the moment.

He was lying atop the covers, his tall, withy body completely bare. His raven hair was unbound and spilled across his pillow in silken profusion. One hand rested on his flat belly while the other lay further down, concealed by one raised thigh, hard with muscle like the rest of his form yet so smooth and almost flawless of skin it gave off a soft sheen in the candlelight.

Legolas stared at the Elf-knight in awe. He had not seen Elrohir completely unclad since the onset of his adolescence. He wondered if that had been a deliberate move on Elrohir's part. If it had, he could not blame the twin. Not if his reactions to the sudden uncovering of his graces was any indication of the calamitous effects it would have had on him then.

He let his eyes roam, eagerly, nay, hungrily, noting every detail of the Elf-knight's near perfection. What few imperfections he could make out - a thin silvery scar on his shoulder, another more irregularly shaped one along one calf, a fading bruise on his flank, and he knew Elrohir's fingers and palms were roughened from the wielding of weapons - only served to heighten his appreciation of the twin's comeliness. For the flaws were a stark testament to the unstinting performance of his duty as warrior and prince.

Just as his eyes alighted once more on the Elf-knight's strong but slender thighs, Elrohir shifted his raised leg, lowering it slightly to expose his groin. Legolas' eyes widened and he caught his breath when he realized just how Elrohir's other hand was employed. It was curled around his shaft - Legolas felt his mouth go dry just from the sight of it rising proudly out of a spare nest of soft, sable curls - and it was slowly but firmly caressing that magnificent column of flesh. Legolas' mouth dropped open in a gape and color flooded his cheeks. Innocent he may have been but he was not so ignorant that he did not recognize the act of self-pleasuring that was taking place before his eyes.

He knew he was intruding on something utterly private and his scruples told him to leave immediately. But something more primal overtook scruples and he continued to watch Elrohir in ever growing fascination and with the first twinges of active desire. He wished it were he who touched the Elf-knight thusly, who elicited that look on his face that transformed his beauty from provocative to feral. He heard his own breath coming in short huffs and realized he was panting shallowly. He stifled a moan when he saw Elrohir's strokes quicken and heard the smothered sounds that accompanied each stroke. Sounds that snatched his breath away until he was almost sobbing for it.

A sharp gasp followed by a stifled groan heralded the Elf-knight's release and copious spurts of opalescent cream spilled over his fist and dappled his taut belly. The sight nearly wrested a cry from Legolas who had to clap a hand over his mouth to silence himself. He wrenched his gaze away at last.

Elbereth! He could not recall a more enticing sight. He clutched the tree trunk with shaking hands to steady his trembling frame. Feeling quite giddy he raised a palm to his cheek and found it hot to the touch. For the longest while, he leaned his woozy head against the rough bark in an effort to clear it while his heart fought to slow its frantic beating. When he thought himself calm enough, he chanced another peek at his quarry.

Elrohir lay quietly on his bed, his body still rosy with the flush of his climax. He was staring up at the ceiling, grey eyes lost in thought. After a few more seconds, he seemed to sigh and he reached for a corner of the bed sheet and cleaned himself off. Legolas gulped. Even the image of his Elf-knight wiping away the evidence of his release was a tantalizing sight. At last, Elrohir pulled the covers up and over his lean form, hiding it from Legolas' eyes.

The young prince remained completely still lest the twin sense his presence now that he was no longer distracted. Only when he was certain that Elrohir had fallen asleep did he return the way he came.

Scrambling into bed, he burrowed under the covers as if to hide himself. Pressing his hot face into the cool softness of his pillow, he wondered how in Arda he would be able to sleep this night. He should not have spied on Elrohir, he scolded himself. He had invaded the Elf-knight's privacy in a most unseemly way and ought to be ashamed of himself. But truth be told, he did not feel any shame, not for his impropriety or for having felt great pleasure just looking at Elrohir's form in all its bared glory. Witnessing the twin's unraveling by his own hand had added to the intensity of it and made him ache with wanting as he had never ached before.

He put his fingers to his lips, remembering the feel of Elrohir's against his. It had been a chaste kiss; a mere formality because of their stations in life. But the jolt he had felt upon contact had been far from formal. And the thoughts that crowded his mind were no more chaste than a harlot who serviced mortal men for pay.

For so long had he worshipped Elrohir as one revered a champion and a gallant friend. But tonight he had seen him in another guise. And it dawned on him at last just what that portended if their betrothal held. The very thought precipitated a pooling of pressure in his groin and he groaned at the not quite unpleasant discomfort. He pressed his hips down into the feather mattress, desperate for some means to escape the vague ache. Yet he could not bring himself to do as Elrohir had done. For some reason he could not fathom, he recoiled from the thought of seeking release on his own. He wanted every first to be at Elrohir's hands.

Elrohir touching him, kissing him, stroking him to a climax. His imagination got the better of him and he rubbed himself against the bedclothes in instinctive abandon. The friction was enough for one who was without experience or control and intense pleasure such as he had never known before suddenly exploded in his groin. He cried out, barely managing to snuff the sound into his pillow. Wet warmth seeped into the crotch of his trousers.

Elrohir had granted his wish all unknowingly. His first completion had been wrought on the altar of the Elf-knight's beauteous visage, his resplendent form, his incomparable charm. Legolas turned his head and stared out his window at the darkness outside, his eyes sparkling with well-founded anticipation.

Their betrothal would hold, he thought with guileless determination. It had to. He would ensure that it did.

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

Glossary:

laer - Sindarin for summer

ellith (sing. elleth) - Elf-maids

ellyn (sing. ellon) - male Elves

Peredhel - Half-elf/Half-elven

To be continued…
- 9
- 10
- 11
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Twilight Tales - An Ounce of Kindness