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Twilight Tales - An Ounce of Kindness	By : MPB Category: -Multi-Age > General Views: 26421 -:- 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 X

The exhilaration of the night gave way to trepidation the following day. Glee became guilt; bravado dissolved into confusion. Legolas found that his relationship with Elrohir had been imbued with something other than their comfortable affection or their easy camaraderie. He could not look at Elrohir in quite the same way; could not even meet his eyes.

A chance pose or gesture or even an expression could evoke images of such vivid sensuality that his face would burn and his tongue suddenly feel thick in his mouth. The most innocent of touches flustered him into a trembling-kneed state and even an innocuous comment stated just so was enough to set his mind envisioning the Elf-knight in various indecent postures. Shame would skewer him then that he should reduce his beloved champion to such a tawdry role especially when he could not set aside the sultry images. As a result, he shied from Elrohir's company and fled to the sanctum of his apartment several times during the course of the day, seeking blessed respite from the younger twin's unsettling presence.

It was unrealistic to expect his odd behavior to go unnoticed. Or that Elrohir would not demand an explanation for his unnatural avoidance.

Knowing that Elrohir would be at the drill yard to spar with one of Gilthalion's protégés, Legolas made his way there early the next morning after a restless night passed in disquieting dreams. He stood beneath a lofty beech at the edge of the field nigh to where the combatants took their positions, eager to watch his Elf-knight display his skill. Elrohir did not disappoint him.

The younger twin for all his lesser years proved a most formidable adversary. Brandishing his sword with a combination of well-honed skill and innate resourcefulness, he did not permit so much as the smallest mistake by his opponent to get by but took full advantage of every error committed however minute. It was only to be expected of one of the best pupils of Rivendell's legendary captain who was arguably the finest swordsman in Middle-earth.

But Legolas saw so much more than the Elf-knight's splendid performance. Clad in a sleeveless, open-necked jerkin, form-fitting breeches and sturdy boots, his raven hair plaited into a single braid, and bound with a strip of black leather, Elrohir looked every inch the warrior prince he'd been born and bred to be. His pewter eyes flashed dangerously as he steadily beat back his Silvan opponent. With every swing of that fearsome sword, the sleek muscles on his arms and shoulders rippled. A swift turn here and an agile twist there unwittingly flaunted his hard yet supple back and hips. His feet seemed a blur of motion as he nimbly parried and feinted and lunged. Before long, his neck and chest gleamed with the faint sheen of sweat,

Legolas found he could not swallow with any ease as he watched the Elf-knight's every move. He scarcely heard the increasing cheers and excited banter around him. Ignored the jostling to gain a better vantage point. He could not even summon his usual umbrage at any fervent show of admiration for the Peredhel he considered his alone. All unbidden he saw in his mind that lithesome form as it had lain before him in wanton resplendence. He felt the singe of a simmering blush in his cheeks. And somewhere below, he knew the heady pressure of a burgeoning arousal once more.

Feeling suddenly unsteady, he leaned against the tree and closed his eyes, uncaring of the curious glances of those about him. Thus, he did not notice that the contest had come to an end and that the victor was rapidly nearing him.

He gasped when a strong hand gripped his shoulder and he opened his eyes to stare into Elrohir's concerned gaze.

“Are you well?” the younger twin asked, lifting his other hand to touch the prince's ruddy face. “Valar, but your cheeks are over-warm! What ails you, lass dithen?”-little leaf?

Feeling as if he would explode from Elrohir's mere touch, Legolas hastily jerked away. “I am well,” he blurted out and turned to go.

“Let me fetch my things and I shall go with you,” Elrohir said.

“Nay!” Legolas exclaimed with alarm. Floundering for an excuse upon seeing Elrohir's bafflement, he came up with none and could only say, “You need not worry about me, Elrohir. Now if you will excuse me-”

Elrohir pulled him back by the arm. “I chose not to go riding with Elladan and your brothers that we might spend this day together. Yet you have spurned my company at every turn,” he commented. “What is amiss, Legolas?”

Legolas found his eyes centering on the Elf-knight's broad expanse of chest and the sight was enough to send a shiver of pleasurable desire snaking up his spine. Shuddering with unaccustomed need, the young prince backed away, yanking his arm out of Elrohir's grasp.

“Nothing is amiss,” he sputtered. “I just wish to be alone.”

Elrohir stared at him. “And you expect me to believe that?” he said incredulously. “Come now, Legolas, out with the truth. What troubles you so deeply?”

He reached up to smooth a soothing caress over Legolas' nape. But his touch proved anything but soothing to the beleaguered prince. The warmth of his hand seemed as a scorching brand on Legolas' flesh, exaggerated as it was by the younger Elf's acutely heightened sensitivity. Reason ceased to function and an overwhelming urge to escape took ascendancy.

Heedless of the fast growing audience to their unexpectedly heated conversation, he yelled, “You have no right to badger me, Peredhel! We are not yet bound!”

“Legolas!” Elrohir exclaimed in shock. “Whence this bile?”

“Are you some human fishwife who knows not enough when to stop?” Legolas shot back. “Oh, but of course, it should not surprise me. You carry the blood after all!”

Elrohir whitened at the insult. It was quite fortunate that Elladan was not present for Eru only knew what the older twin might have said or done in the face of so offensive a sally. As it was, the hush in the yard grew heavy and fraught with apprehension as all awaited the Elf-knight's response.

If they expected him to retaliate in like vein, they were disabused of it soon enough. Laying an icy stare on the suddenly abashed prince, he acidly said: “As you wish, your highness. Rest assured that your felicity will not be marred by this mere adanedhel.”

He bowed with cold formality, went to snatch up his things and briskly left the field. Legolas felt his mouth go as dry as a parched field under a sweltering desert sun. Conscious of the disbelieving stares of the onlookers, he bolted and all but raced back to the pavilion. He hid himself for the rest of the day, refusing to come out even to join his family for the evening meal.

It did not take long for them to get wind of the tiff. How could they not when the halls of the palace abounded with whispered rumors of an impending break of the betrothal? While Haldoron, Nimaras and Lalorn responded with varying degrees of amusement and scorn, his father and Galvreth, Elivorn and even Aelluin questioned him then took him to task about it. But not the twins. They neither denied the quarrel nor gave credence to the gossip that arose in its wake. And they did not approach any of the royal family in entreaty or ire.

Elladan reluctantly stayed out of the fray once Elrohir made it clear that he did not want the incident to grow any bigger than it was already. And after that unprecedented and highly embarrassingly public rebuff, the Elf-knight chose to keep silent on the matter and kept well out of Legolas' way as he had promised. Not that anyone could blame him for what being of any pride would wish to be subjected to a second round of such indignity? And at the hands of a youngling at that?

Legolas missed his company almost at once and heartily regretted his reprehensible outburst. Misery took its toll on him and supplanted his previous feelings of alternating lust and dismay. He spent many a sleepless night chiding himself for his stupidity. But it was several days before he could muster his courage, temper his shame and lower his pride enough to seek out Elrohir. The growing speculation that the brethren might cut short their visit and leave the kingdom soonest finally spurred him into action.

He found Elrohir in the main hall of the palace from which branched off the many chambers and passageways that cut through the great cave. Benches lined the walls of the hall and here various Elves gathered either to await an audience with the king, meet with members of the royal household or simply to mingle with fellow nobles. The Elf-knight was seated on one of these benches with some Elves he had befriended. Though his qualms made him queasy with anxiety, Legolas took a deep breath and walked to the younger twin.

Elrohir had his back to him and did not notice his advance. And if his companions did they were much too surprised or apprehensive or both to warn him. Thus he was startled when Legolas laid a trembling hand on his shoulder and softly said: “Elrohir? May I have a word with you?”

The Elf-knight did not look at him but stiffened then suddenly rose, bid his companions a good day and began to walk away. Legolas panicked and, oblivious of the surreptitious stares cast their way, hurried after the younger twin.

“Elrohir, wait!” he cried, grabbing hold of the latter's arm. He swallowed hard when Elrohir pulled his arm from his grasp and turned to face him with a most discouraging glare. It frightened Legolas even further for never had Elrohir looked at him thusly. “Please don't go,” he pleaded. “There is something I must tell you.”

Elrohir snorted. “I am in no mood to hear my house maligned once again, ernil daur”-forest prince-he frigidly said.

Legolas winced at his cool delivery of an otherwise affectionate appellation. He reached out and laid a hesitant hand on Elrohir's unyielding arm.

“I am sorry,” he said in a small voice. “I should not have demeaned you or your family.”

“Then why did you?” came the glacial query.

“I - I do not know,” Legolas stuttered. “I was - I felt so out of sorts and - and - oh, please don't leave me, Elrohir!” he exclaimed beseechingly when the twin impatiently turned to go. Tremors invaded his limbs when Elrohir stopped to await his next words none too forbearingly.

By now silence had engulfed the hall as every Elf strained to hear their conversation. Legolas flushed at the thought of humbling himself before a crowd. But he hadn't spared Elrohir either when he'd embarrassed him and so had no right to expect consideration of any sort.

He took a deep breath and, praying no one would overhear his confession, said in a hushed voice: “I saw you two nights before. When you - when you t-touched yourself.”

For a moment Elrohir stared at him in bewilderment. And then it dawned on him just what the young prince was trying to say. A riotous mixture of emotions surged through him, nearly rendering him speechless. Realizing that they had become the focal point of everyone's interest, he quickly ushered Legolas out of the hall and led him to the nearest private room which was the small audience chamber reserved for meetings of a sensitive nature.

He thrust Legolas into the room and without preamble demanded, “What do you mean you saw me? How could you have seen me without my knowledge?”

“From - from your window,” Legolas said. When elegant sable eyebrows rose in disbelief he stumblingly recounted his inadvertent adventure outside the Elf-knight's chamber. When he was done, he looked at Elrohir imploringly.

“I did not know how to act with you,” he desperately explained. “I felt so strange and - and ashamed. And when you pressed me for my reasons I just - I could not…” He trailed off, at a loss for words to adequately describe the unruly feelings he'd experienced each time he came in close contact with the twin the morning after and beyond. “I am truly sorry, Elrohir,” he said, painfully conscious of the inadequacy of his apology. “Please forgive me.”

Elrohir regarded him with the most peculiar expression. So daunting was it that Legolas could not bear to meet his gaze and he dropped his eyes to contemplate his shoes. At length, he sensed the twin had released him from his stare and he timidly looked up.

Elrohir had moved off by a few paces and now stood facing away from him, hands on his hips and his head bowed as if in deep thought. But the unyielding cast of his shoulders seemed indicative of severe anger and that struck fear into Legolas' heart that he had irreversibly damaged his relationship with the twin. It did not occur to him that Elrohir needed time to come to terms with his confession. But then he was so very young and callow after all.

After a few more minutes of the Elf-knight's ominous silence, Legolas gave in to his dread and began to weep. It started with a pitiful sniffle, followed by muffled whimpers until at last he broke into harsh sobs, smothering them as best as he could with a hand tightly clapped over his mouth.

Elrohir heard and whirled around in dismay. Seeing Legolas so helplessly distraught, he hastened to him and pulled him into a tight embrace. Slender arms wrapped around him frantically and he felt the prince's hot tears drench his shoulder.

“Please don't be angry with me,” Legolas sobbed. “I cannot bear it.”

“Hush, penen vell”-my dear one-Elrohir crooned. “I am not angry. I was only hurt and afraid.”

“Afraid?” Legolas asked in confusion, lifting a tear-streaked face to gaze at the younger twin.

Elrohir nodded. “You were so distant before you snapped at me that I thought I had done some grievous thing against you. And the worst of it was that I did not know what it was and could not make amends to you for it.”

Realizing how deeply he had distressed Elrohir only made Legolas cry harder. Elrohir lifted him in his arms and carried him to one of the long couches. Sitting with Legolas on his lap, he held the prince snugly, rocking him slightly to sooth him. It was a good quarter of an hour before the young Elf's body stopped shaking and his tears ceased to flow. When Legolas finally calmed down, Elrohir made him look up at him.

Drowned blue eyes met his yet Elrohir thought them beautiful nonetheless. Ah, but these same eyes had witnessed him engaged in an intensely private act. He did not quite know how to feel about that. He sighed, searching for the right words to say.

“I know you did not intentionally spy on me,” he said at last.

Legolas vigorously shook his head, his throat still too raw for speech.

Elrohir ran his hand through somewhat tangled gold hair. “But having seen what you did and knowing yourself disturbed by it, you should have told me the truth instead of turning on me,” he gently chided. “I will always try to help you, Legolas, but I cannot if I do not know what troubles you.”

Legolas bit his lower lip and nodded.

“Besides,” Elrohir added, “'tis not as if I do not know whereof you are experiencing. I passed through the same straits myself not too long ago. I know how strange it is to suddenly find interest in the forms and faces of other Elves. 'Tis a natural thing and you need not be ashamed of it.”

Legolas was quiet for a long time. And then he said: “I couldn't stop thinking of you afterward and - and something happened. I spent myself,” he whispered in embarrassment. “Was that wrong?”

“To spend yourself or to have done so because of me?” Elrohir asked.

Legolas blushed to the roots of his hair. “Both,” he all but squeaked.

Elrohir chuckled softly and stroked a rosy cheek with his knuckles. “There is nothing wrong with the first. As for the second, well, I would be more offended if your thoughts had been of someone else.”

Legolas stared at him. “You do not mind then?” When Elrohir smilingly shook his head, he blurted out, “But who were you thinking of when you pleasured yourself?”

Some of the Elf-knight's equanimity seeped away at this reversion to the inquisitive Elfling of old. “Really, Legolas, that is an exceedingly personal matter,” he said, blushing slightly in turn. “'Tis bad enough that you watched me, must you know my thoughts as well?”

The beginnings of a pout began to purse the prince's mouth but Legolas desisted and looked away instead. “You need not answer,” he murmured tightly. “I can guess who it was not.”

Elrohir closed his eyes, wondering not for the last time how he had gotten himself into such a fix. Opening them, he studied Legolas' crestfallen expression. With a sigh, he cast discretion to the wind and decided to put his trust in Legolas' ability to make sense of the vagaries of bodily desire. He cupped the prince's face and made him turn to look at him.

“If you must know, 'twas you I had in mind,” he quietly said. At the swift pleasure in Legolas' eyes, he went on carefully. “I will not lie and say that I have never used thoughts of others to help me seek release. Though 'twas only because it would have been obscene of me to use you for that purpose when you were a child. But you have grown much these past many years and I have relied more and more on your image since to help me ease my needs.”

Color stained the prince's cheeks again at the twin's admission but Elrohir's honesty thrilled him no end, as did the knowledge of his potent effect on the Elf-knight.

“I am glad,” he whispered. He looked hopefully at Elrohir. “Am I forgiven now?”

Elrohir laughed and held him close, their foreheads touching. “Ai, lass dithen, 'tis nigh impossible to remain at odds with you.”

“It seemed you would just a while ago,” Legolas woefully said.

“It would have passed,” Elrohir told him. “You are much too precious to me, Legolas. I could not put you from me for too long.”

Legolas beamed at him, relief lending a special brilliance to his smile. He snuggled into Elrohir's embrace once more, ecstatic to be reconciled with his Elf-knight, content to just be held in his arms.

*********

In the weeks leading up to his thirty-fifth begetting day, Legolas felt more alive and happy than ever. He had confessed his accidental transgression to Elrohir and the twin had not minded though he had been admittedly shocked to learn of it. Elrohir had forgiven him his sharp tongue and now the rift between them was mended. Best of all, the Elf-knight had reassured him of his constant regard; that Legolas was still dear to him. All was right in the prince's world once more.

Well, except for the fact that their very first real quarrel had been played out in public while their reconciliation had not. Consequently, a good number of Elves proved annoyingly curious about what had set off his pique in the first place and how he had mollified the Elf-knight afterward and so effectively at that.

And then there was still the matter of his fully awakened desires and the Peredhel who had ignited them. His falling-out with Elrohir ended, said desires returned with a vengeance. Legolas knew he would have to address his need soonest else he would all but expire from the lack of relief. Yet he also feared to take the necessary steps to quench it.

Elrohir had expressed a wish to aid him. But how far was he willing to go in extending that aid? And in any case, just exactly how did he feel about Legolas? Would intimacy between them be merely of the flesh or would it be the physical manifestation of the sharing of hearts as well?

Legolas' fervent hope was that love would ease his way when he was at last relieved of his bodily innocence. Yet Elrohir's pull on him was such that he knew he would submit to the Elf-knight without the assurance of it. Even if in doing so he risked the breaking of his heart.

It was not a decision he could make in haste. Or without due consideration

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

Glossary:

Peredhel - Half-elf/Half-elven

adanedhel - man-Elf, a name given to the First Age hero Túrin in the elven realm of Nargothrond, alluding to his beauty and nobility of speech and bearing

To be continued…
- 10
- 11
- 12
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Twilight Tales - An Ounce of Kindness