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Arcane Land	By : alpham31 Category: +Third Age > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 2529 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings is not mine, and neither are its characters. I make no money with my writing. This story was written for the simple pleasure of it.

Chapter List
- 9
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- 11
Chapter 10: Endurance

The journey back to the fortress seemed to Legolas to be quicker than their outward ride had been. He thought of tomorrow and the duties he had, for the recruits would be trained, albeit a little later than usual. After, he would meet with his uncle for an update on the field detachments and any engagements there had been, and perhaps he would find the time to write – to Glorfindel, Elrond, Erestor – Arwen.

The rest of the Company smiled dreamily, remembering the night of passion they had spent. Lindo and Melven rode together, they had obviously done it, thought Elladan, yet he wondered at the nature of it. He was not sure that this was love – yes, the attraction was mutual, but was that all there was? He knew not, and so he would observe. He thought then, that Gal had been right, for Haven was indeed exotic. He had been witness to the most imaginative of scenes there in the woods – women with women, men with men, masters and slaves, toys and players from all walks of life, a fascinating place he would be sure to visit again, like Love Lake, his first experience in Sylvan entertainment, yet less ‘innocent’.

The gates whined and clattered as they were opened, just enough for The Company to ride through in single file, and receive a friendly salute and an indulgent smile from the guards.

The group soon disappeared into the barracks, Glammohtar with them, laughing and joking about their escapade in hushed tones so as not to bother their comrades, yet Elladan had stayed to accompany Legolas.

“It was a good night, Legolas.”

“Aye, so it was,” he answered, wondering if Elladan had stayed to speak on something personal.

“Can I escort you back to the fortress?”

“Of course,” he replied, somewhat surprised at the offer, “yet remember you have a challenging day before you tomorrow!”

“I know, yet I also have a letter to write, to my father.”

“Ah, I see. I had also thought to write tomorrow,” said Legolas softly. “Your father has written then?” he asked good-naturedly, although Elladan was sure he had detected an undercurrent of surprise, perhaps because he had not received a letter himself.

“I received his letter yesterday,” he said, as they began to walk back to the fortress. “He has written to many here, you included,” he said, watching Legolas with a placid smile on his face.

His visage lifted visibly, his skin smoothing out in obvious relief. “I am glad, I look forward to reading his news,” he said. They had never spoken openly about his relationship with Elladan’s father, and Legolas now realized that this was the reason that his friend had wanted to accompany him. It was a good move, he thought, for it was the only issue that divided them, and that was never a good thing in the situation in which they would both soon find themselves in, indeed had he not done the very same thing with Melven?

“Does it worry you? This relationship?”

“Nay, Legolas. Yet I admit I know not the nature of it, for you are with Glorfindel, yet both my father and Erestor speak of you as their lover, and I do not get the impression they regard you as a casual lover – I mean they speak of you as they would a stable partner. I would disapprove if I thought that you could harm him in any way, for he has already suffered too much in love, my friend.”

They had reached Legolas’ suite. Opening the door, Legolas ushered Elladan inside as he poured a glass of wine, before sitting before the fire, handing his friend a goblet.

“It will not be I who hurts your father, Elladan – never that. And as to the nature of it, that is a difficult question, yet I would like to elucidate, for you already know I hold you as a good friend, I want you to understand – if I can explain myself, that is.”

“Then I am listening.”

“It was that first gala, at the opening of the Spring Festival. Glorfindel and I had not spoken of our mutual attraction, and Elrond had taken it upon himself to invite me for a ‘nightcap’. Suffice it to say that the night was – memorable,” he smiled off into the distance, taking a delicate sip of wine.

From then onwards, we took advantage of every night we could to be together, the four of us, and during that time I came to know my destiny, about which I have not spoken to you, for it is a delicate subject, one that requires utter secrecy.

Elladan held his gaze then, watching as the flames reflected off his brilliant green irises, strange that he could actually see the colour in such bad light.

“I understand if you cannot tell me…” said Elladan sincerely. Truth be told he wanted nothing more than for Legolas to reveal the secret, yet he meant what he said.

Legolas sipped his wine as he considered the dangers of revealing his future. He knew Elladan observed him, and so he decided to ask his own questions.

“You saw what happened in the gardens of Imladris, that first day I met your sister – what did you make of that?” he challenged, meeting Elladan’s intense gaze.

“I – deduced that something, transcendental had occurred, yet she called you ‘my King’, as you called her ‘my Queen’, and of that I do not know what to make.

“Um,” he sighed. “There is nothing sexual between us, Elladan. I know that Arwen desires me, and Elbereth knows that if I were not her father’s lover, I would not have hesitated – but I cannot, for there is something that tells me I cannot, should not have her – and yet something strong binds me to her – destiny mayhap,” he concluded, looking into the flames as Elladan continued to watch him.

“There is something that binds our futures together, and this feeling is the same one I share with your father, only with the sex,” he said nonchalantly.

“What do you think it is – this shared future?”

“I think, perhaps, that Elrond will have much to say when the Dark One finally rears his head, and that I am a key player, so to speak, as, I believe, is Arwen. This is what ties me to your family, I feel a deep affinity with Elrond, as I do with Arwen, strangely enough,” he murmured then, “for we have spoken but a few words, she and I, and yet, now that I think on it, your mother… I do not know what it is, Elladan, but when I left Imladris, I found myself alone, staring at her portrait, she touched me deeply, it is… absurd, and yet it is so.”

Elladan was, by now, fascinated by Legolas’ thoughts and insights, and it showed, for he stared intensely at Legolas’ profile as he narrated, and still now, once he had stopped. His grey eyes shone brightly, and an odd expression had come over his lordly face.

“I am – taken aback, my friend. Your words are strange, and yet I do not doubt them – a riddle, is it not? For what you are saying is that this is all to do with destiny – something you, Arwen and my father will do in the future, something that concerns Mithrandir also, from what I can tell.”

“Yes,” said Legolas, somewhat surprised, “you have synthesized it well, for that is the essence of it.”

“Then I am glad we spoke, my friend. I will not speak of this to anyone, you have my word.”

Legolas simply smiled. He liked this elf very much, every day a little more. He was wise and kind, empathic yet not to the point of absurd justifications, he was handsome – like his father, and showed great potential as a warrior. He decided then, that Elladan would become an important person in his life, had already done so.

Indeed Legolas’ thoughts were mirrored by Elladan. He was relieved at what Legolas had confided in him, and intrigued, of course. Yavanna had chosen well, and so had his father.

As he returned to the barracks, his mind retrieved the words his father had penned to him. He had asked Elladan to help Legolas, if he could, saying that his heart was compromised. Elladan had no idea of what he spoke, for Legolas was nothing if not strong – he was certainly not broken – still, his father was wise and Elladan knew that he was missing something. He would do just that, watch him, for Legolas was now a friend – a good friend, and strange as it may seem, he felt an affinity with him that seemed disproportionate to the time they had spent together. Could it be that he, too, felt the pull of destiny? that his own was tied up to the convoluted impressions that Legolas had exposed moments before?

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Training had started late today, courtesy of the commander after their night out at Imderen.

They had ran in nothing but leggings and boots for over two hours, yet it had not been a steady trot, but an up and down run through fields and copses, the constant change of terrain taking a harsh toll on the legs.

Elladan and Melven now enjoyed a brief rest for water and to replenish their lungs with oxygen. Barathon sauntered over to them then, joining the two recuperating warriors, who stood together in amiable silence.

“Well now, how was your first night out with the ‘lads’?” he asked, his tone one of sarcasm and disdain, one that both Noldo picked up on immediately. And so Elladan answered him in no uncertain terms.

“Oh very good, my Lord. For we ate and drank, sang and reminisced, and fucked long into the night – it was truly a most entertaining evening.”

“You are impertinent, Noldo.”

“I apologize, my Lord, for that was not my intention, yet I was surprised that you did not accompany us,” added Elladan, for he loathed this elf with a passion, yet he would not stoop to outright insult, as he knew Barathon would.

“I chose not to, Noldo, for I do not court whores in the woods, ‘tis distasteful, and unfitting of royalty.”

“You judge your Prince and King then, my Lord?” asked Elladan, his tone low and menacing.

Barathon gave himself away, for he inhaled noisily through the nose – he had been outwitted and now needed a way out of the hole he had dug for himself.

“I said no such thing, now return to your work, Noldo, for Elbereth knows you need it,” he sneered, raking his eyes over Elladan’s bare torso.

Pengon appeared silently behind the obnoxious Sindar, making the mule jump visibly as he spoke into his ear.

“You speak to a lieutenant, your superior. Apologize immediately.”

“And I am prince, lieutenant, you overstep your boundaries,” he said agitatedly as he whirled around to face Pengon.

“Here, on the training field, or on the battlefield, you adhere solely to military rank. This you know yet choose to ignore, taking me for a fool in the process. Apologize to your superiors or I will report you anon.”

Barathon held his gaze, yet after a few long seconds, he looked down. He knew Pengon was right, his lordship held no importance here and so, against his better judgment, he nodded to Elladan and to Pengon.

“I apologize,” he said, his tone far from matching the words, as he strode off to the sidelines. Pengon spared a glance at Elladan, who was watching the royal prince strut away.

“Do you wish to report him, Elladan?” asked Pengon.

“No, Pengon, but I thank you for caring.”

“You are most very welcome, Elrondion.” He said, smiling as he nodded and turned to join his comrades.

The Company approached the recruits then, clad only in leggings and boots, and their myriad of armbands that covered their right arms from wrist to bicep.

Glammo was struck then by how fit these elves were – for they were bulkier than the average warrior, yet their muscles were as defined as any expert archer. Legolas especially, was gifted with the most spectacular of bodies, something he had already witnessed at Finlond. He sported a small scar on his left side and remembered the arrow he had taken not so long ago in Imladris, defending his boy from the orcs. Ram en’ also had an ugly scar over his left shoulder – the battle stories these elves had would be well worthy of hearing.

Two pits of hay had been set up on the far side of the green where they now awaited the next step in their training.

Legolas sauntered over to Elladan, observing him as he did so. His friend had a strong body, well-muscled yet under-defined. He would have to work him hard but the potential was definitely there, it would be an interesting challenge, for he thought that Elladan could possibly become one of the best, and now was his first chance to see just how quickly he could learn a new skill, the skill of dodging arrows, of disorientating your enemy, what The Company now referred to as ‘aerial work’.

“Elladan. Tell me, do you have any training in aerial work?”

“Uh, no, none whatsoever, Commander.”

“Alright. We will start with a simple head stand. Stand on your arms, steady yourself with your feet and then pull your legs up with your abdominal muscles – I will help you.”

Placing his hands firmly on the ground, he found his balance, then tried and failed to pull his legs up with his stomach muscles, needing to bend his knees until he finally stood in a wobbly headstand, maintaining himself aloft thanks only to Legolas’ steadying arms holding his shins.

“Stretch your arms to their limits, concentrate on balance, clear your mind of all else – find equilibrium. Feel how your abdomen controls your legs,” he instructed as he let go of Elladan’s legs, yet maintained his hands at the ready.

“That’s it – stay aloft for as long as you can, remember, think only on equilibrium, let nothing distract you – compensate and balance…”

All around them, the others were performing the same exercise, yet the uffs and aghs were constant, as the pupils lost their balance and crumpled to the ground, only to try again, yet Elladan had not fallen since his first attempt, and was indeed, still aloft, his wavering legs becoming more and more steady as Elladan began to control his body more effectively. Legolas smiled then, for he had been right, he was a quick learner.

“Bend your legs until your feet touch the ground and maintain the stance.”

Elladan obeyed, as his muscles trembled violently at the effort they had made to lower his legs straight down, without bending at the knee as he had done at the beginning.

“Now take the weight from your arms to your feet – control is the key factor, Elladan, slow and precise movements, until you are standing before me one more.”

Of course the slower the movement, the more demanding on the body, but Elladan would not be beaten so easily, and to his own, utter surprise, he now stood before Legolas once more, who was beaming at him.

“That was an excellent start, Lieutenant.”

Elladan dipped his head slightly and smiled. “Thank you, Commander.”

“Now, let us do it together, no help this time. Watch me and imitate.”

Melven, meanwhile, had crumpled to the ground for the third time, although he had been able to stay aloft a little longer this time.

“Rest, Lieutenant, and drink,” urged Lindo, handing the panting Melven a cup of water. As he drank, his eyes strayed to Elladan and opened wide, for he stood on his arms, nary a wobble of arm or leg, Legolas beside him in exactly the same position. Lindo followed his gaze and smiled.

“Elladan is learning fast.”

“Aye,” replied Melven. Would that I were as skilled, for my backside is already aching from so many failed attempts.”

“Well, perhaps I can help you with that later,” said Lindo saucily, to which Melven smiled before depositing the cup and starting again.

Legolas watched Elladan from his upside down position. Deciding to work his muscles a little more, he opened his legs to the side, keeping them straight, watching as Elladan imitated him. It was a wobbly move, but he kept his balance, and so Legolas continued, pulling his legs back together, and then dropping them almost to the ground, maintaining them in the air and the entire weight of his body upon his arms. Elladan was almost successful, but as his legs fell further towards the ground, his body became unbalanced, and for the first time that day, fell spectacularly onto his backside, the impact shuddering through his entire body and bringing a boyish scowl to his face.

Legolas righted himself and walked over to him, offering him a hand and pulling him up.

“Come,” was all he said as he moved over to one of the hay pits. “I want you to run, and when you get to this point,” he gestured to a marker a few meters before the hay, “you jump and summersault forward, landing on your feet. Watch me first, then ask your questions, I will repeat the move if need be.”

And with that, Legolas walked away from him, turned, then ran, yet not to fast. When he reached the marker, he jumped, turned over himself and landed on one foot, enabling him to continue his run. It looked so simple, so elegant, yet Elladan knew it was not easy – he could already see himself face down in the hay, a bruised nose and a smarting cheek.

“Questions?”

“No.”

“Then do it!” ordered Legolas emphatically.

Moving to the point where he would start his run, he took a moment to breathe deeply and clear his mind, as Legolas had taught him. It was all a question of confidence he knew, and so he stole himself for the impact and began his run. Arriving at the marker, he propelled himself into the air and promptly landed on his already bruised backside with a whoosh.

“Legolas peered down at him and explained. Not enough height to get your legs back under you. Try again, jump higher.”

And so he did, this time landing on both feet and falling forwards. It took the best part of two hours to get the move right, much to the joy of his instructor, who had whooped and slapped him on the back.

“You see, Elladan, this move can be used for an infinity of things. Imagine a charge on foot, swords. You have a massive Uruk or a warg before you with little chance of matching its strength, you can run and jump over it, killing it from behind, for the element of surprise will be its downfall. Shall we try it?”

“Alright,” said Elladan enthusiastically, eager to see how the move would be put into practice.

Now facing each other some distance away, both held a practice sword and were running towards each other, the other pupils watching. Once Legolas was at a few meters from Elladan, he used the move, landing behind Elladan, now standing back to back with him. All it took was to thrust his sword backwards, its tip rendering Elladan completely still. When Elladan turned, he did so to find Legolas with his back to him, he had ‘stabbed’ him without looking.

“If you take the time to turn you may lose your advantage, but you could turn and kill from the front, depending on how fast your opponent is. Do you want to try?”

“I want to, yes! But I fear I cannot jump high enough or gauge the spot from which I should jump.”

“Don’t worry about that, I will avoid you.”

“Alright,” he smiled, as they trotted away once more.

As Elladan jumped into the air, Legolas ducked, lest he find Elladan’s boot in his mouth, and there it was, the feel of blunt wood against his naked back. Turning, Legolas smiled at Elladan’s back, watching as he slowly turned round to face him, a look of utter awe on his face.

“I did it – the jump was too low, but I did it!”

“Yes,” beamed Legolas – “you will be good, Elladan, you will be very good.”

………………………………………………………………………………………………….

And so it was that for the next two weeks, Elladan, Melven, Barathon and the other five recruits would run for two hours after breakfast every morning together with The Company. They would jog and then forward summersault, jump up onto a branch, only to launch themselves back to the ground. Elladan’s muscles were becoming more defined, his body more agile, stronger, capable of endurance he would never have imagined. He felt invigoured, powerful, and he wanted more.

Both Elladan and Melven had received training on the various bird calls that were used by The Company to communicate, when spoken language was not an option and had also been instructed in their complex hand signals. Archery had also been high on the list of priorities and both had acquitted themselves more than satisfactorily. There were other aspects of their training that had proved to be more – traumatic, for they had learned of the standard interrogation techniques the orcs used against captured warriors. They learned how to get their hands out of ropes and chains, how to run without the use of your arms. Finally, the other warriors had taught them to perform the salute they had first seen during the Spring Festival, and again upon Legolas’ return to the woods.

Every night, Gal had visited his lover in his small room at the barracks. They would bath together, and then Gal would soothe his sore muscles. Similarly, Melven was tended to by his devoted tutor, Lindo, who took relish in easing his aches and pains.

…………………………………………………………………………….

Now, on the last day of their training, there was just one more skill they needed to hone – moving through the trees.

They had been practicing the moves for two days now, and it had proven to be the hardest part of their training so far, for Melven had slipped to the forest floor three times, and was bruised almost from head to foot. Elladan likewise, had grazed arms and legs, bruised his head and sides as he had collided with branch and twig, and yet, that jump – grasp - pull up move eluded them both.

Legolas stood conversing with Ram en’, Pengon and Idhreno when a sudden, screaming warning came to him with enough forewarning for him to turn and gasp, before feeling the impact of a booted foot smash full force into his face, stealing his breathe before rendering him half senseless and sending him to the forest floor, his hair flung over his face as his legs battled to push himself backwards, seeking the solid presence of wood against his back, and finding it. His three companions simply stood, stupefied for a moment for it had been so quick.

Legolas felt a cool hand on his head as he heard others shout in dismay, their words lost on him as he began to register the agony that had retardedly exploded in his left cheek. It hurt, a lot, yet he could not think, for his brain flip-flopped inside his skull, his eyes incapable of fixing their gaze on anything as his stomach turned and all colour was lost to his face.

More shouting, and then silence. Another hand, this time pushing his hair from his face, a friendly murmur his brain could not quite register. Another voice, this time perfectly interpreted.

“Legolas, hear me.”

The voice was strong, and commanding, clearly enunciated. He somehow managed to emit a sound, not a word, mind you, a gasp of sorts that served to relax the one that held his hand over his cheek.

“Legolas, can you hear me?”

“Yes,” he whispered.

His head spun viciously, he could not focus, his ears rang, and all he could see was mist. And there was the hand again, upon his throbbing cheek, anchoring him to reality.

“Ram en’, Pengon, fetch me that bucket of water, and find a cloth of some sorts, please.”

Something in this elf’s voice bade them obey, for although they were equal in rank, neither had doubted his words, it seemed somehow natural for them to obey him, and so they trotted to where the bucket lay and returned to place it by the healer’s side, as Pengon handed him a wad of soft cloth. Dipping it into the water, the healer placed it over the entire side of the commander’s face, eliciting a long hiss from the wretched elf.

After a few minutes, Legolas finally righted himself, now sitting back against the trunk, his legs out before him, eyes closed.

“What happened?” he croaked as he brought his hand up to keep the cloth in place.

“Elladan here came crashing out of the tree uncontrollably, feet first – he could have hurt himself had it not been for your face, Hwindo,” said Ram en’ softly.

“You slipped on the branch then?” said Legolas somewhat strangely, for it hurt to move his face, even his lips as he tried and failed to keep his face muscles still.

“I did, my feet slipped from under me, I had no time to reach out and anchor myself – I am so sorry, my friend.”

“You veritably flew through the branches, Elladan. Had I not seen your bare torso, I would say you have wings, my friend,” said Koron en’.

Pengon’s head whipped round to look at Ball of Fire, and then he smiled, for although the situation did not merit it, it had been he who had finally discovered Elladan’s warrior name.

“What is it? What did I say?” asked Koron en’.

“It is what you didn’t say,” smiled Pengon mysteriously.

That earned him a puzzled look from the rest of The Company, all except for Elladan who was not listening, and Legolas who was trying not to move his face. He felt a little better, his head did not spin so much and his eyes were beginning to focus, yet he was still seeing two Elladans.

“Legolas,” began Elladan again, “look at me,” he ordered. Hwindo tried to focus on his friend’s fuzzy face, but he could not quite define the edges of the image.

“What do you see, my friend?”

“Two of you,” he murmured again.

“Come, I will accompany you to Antien, for this needs attention,” he stated as he rose and held his hand down to Legolas.

“Just, get me back to the barracks, I will stay there for a while – can you take care of it?” he asked, his face now red and puffy.

“Alright, but I will need supplies from the healers, come then,” he said, helping his friend up and walking slowly to the barracks. Elladan knew it was to avoid the comments he would get if he tried to get back to his rooms at the fortress, and Elladan did not blame him for that. Besides, he had some redeeming to do.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………….
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Arcane Land