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Greenleaf&Imladris 20-Calenlass: Heart of a Prince	By : MPB Category: -Multi-Age > General Views: 4275 -:- 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.

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Chapter XI: Guarded Heart

Ivanneth FA 21

If Elrohir had thought his burden heavy enough, he was disabused of this assumption two mornings later. Hardly had he stepped out of his chamber when the King accosted him. Aragorn insisted they break their fast together but, to the Elf’s surprise, they were the only ones to enter the cozy dining alcove. Evidently, his foster brother wanted to have a word with him in private.

Aragorn only waited for their meal to be served and the servants to depart before he broached his concerns.

“Legolas has begged leave of me to return to Ithilien,” he began.

Elrohir nodded. “He is not comfortable with the way your vassals behave towards him. I wish you would school them to be more civil, Estel. ‘Tis not right that they should suspect him of malice or ambition.”

“I am aware of their actions,” Aragorn said. “But ‘tis no simple matter to change people’s minds. Legolas will have to bide his time until they learn their lesson.” He looked pointedly at the twin. “But he is not my concern this morning, Elrohir. I would remind you of your pledge to Eldarion and me.”

Elrohir stared at him. “And I have kept my pledge,” he replied. “Why should you bring this up now?”

Aragorn frowned. “Is it true that you plan to return to Ithilien with him?”

Elegant eyebrows lifted in surprise. “I had thought of it,” he answered. “Why should it concern you?”

“This last time you stayed away more than a month,” Aragorn said. “How long will you dwell there this time?”

“I have not decided,” Elrohir admitted. “Mayhap through the winter months. I do not know yet.”

“Then what becomes of your pledge?” the King pressed him. “I see you are eager to leave. To quit this court and seek solitude with your chosen one.”

Elrohir’s eyes narrowed at his foster brother’s choice of words. “I cannot deny what you saw with your own eyes, “ he said. “But I have shared many a bed in all my years. Why should you mark this affair as different?”

“Arwen told me of what passed between you long before I was born,” Aragorn wryly replied, “And I have seen for myself these many days how besotted you are with him.”

“And if I am?” Elrohir countered. “What have my feelings to do with my pledge to you?”

“Everything if it means you will forsake your duties and obligations to me and my son,” Aragorn said. “You are already spending far less time with Eldarion than was your wont. You have just returned and already you think of leaving.”

“Estel, I have been at your side and Eldarion’s for the past two decades,” Elrohir pointed out. “I have spent more years in Gondor than with my own brother in Imladris which is a marvel in itself as we were never apart for so long before you became King. Do you now begrudge me some time for myself?”

Aragorn fell silent. Elrohir sighed. “Elessar, my pledge to you is true. I would never turn my back on Gondor. But I have also been lonely far too long. You know of what I speak for you knew what it meant to be bereft of love ere you won your Undómiel.”

Aragorn looked at his foster brother a little guiltily. “You are right,” he admitted. “I demand too much of you. But if I do, ‘tis because you are a pillar of strength to me, gwanur nîn.”—my kinsman. “And Eldarion adores you and is always distressed by your prolonged absences.”

Elrohir exhaled resignedly. “I will curtail my sojourn in Ithilien if that will reassure you,” he said.

Aragorn did not respond at once. “I would rather you did not go,” he said quietly at length. “I would not have talk arise about your closeness to Legolas.”

Elrohir let out a gust of humorless mirth. “That is what you truly wanted to say,” he remarked. “You could have been more direct, Estel, instead of taking so many twists and turns to get to the point.” He frowned. “Legolas has spoken to you, hasn’t he.” He did not frame the sentence as a question but as a statement.

Aragorn nodded. “He is concerned about such talk getting out of hand. I understand you had an unpleasant encounter with Lord Gethron precisely because of this issue.”

“Gethron will malign anything if he thought it hindered his ambitions,” Elrohir snorted. “The encounter came about because he accused Legolas of seeking to corrupt me, not because he knew the nature of our relationship. I swore I would be discreet. I think I have not broken my word yet.”

“Not wittingly, no,” Aragorn said. “But you have always been expressive, Elrohir. I have presumed that Legolas’ people know about you and him and that other than them and our family, no one else does. At least, for now. But should any look closer... Well, any person with his wits about him would see how deeply you care for him.”

“What would that matter?” Elrohir suddenly spat out. “If they had their wits about them, it would also be clear to them that they have nothing to fear. They would see that he does not return it!”

Aragorn’s eyes widened in shock. “I did not know,” he gasped. “I assumed—”

“Because he agrees to lie with me?” Elrohir laughed bitterly. “Guarded heart, soul of steel, he chooses like a miser whom he would gift with his regard.” When Aragorn looked at him in bewilderment, he added venomously, “You know of what I speak, fortunate enough as you were to gain a little of what meager affection he is willing to dole out.”

Aragorn flinched at the sudden attack. "'Twas but affection born of the perils we faced, Elrohir,” he protested. “Nothing more happened between us.”

“Nothing but what mattered most,” Elrohir retorted sharply, rising from his seat.

Aragorn swiftly clasped his Elf-brother’s hand placatingly. “Gwanur, do not turn against me! What I feel for Legolas is naught but deep friendship. I seek nothing more of him. The Quest is long past and Arwen is all I desire and always will be.”

The king held tight to his kinsman’s wrist and gazed at him pleadingly. At length, Elrohir heaved a shuddering sigh then took his seat once more.

“Forgive me, Estel,” he said more quietly. “I am overwrought and have foisted my anger on you. I know you mean well and that you are only concerned about everyone’s welfare.”

“I am sorry, too,” Aragorn murmured. “Had I known I would be rubbing salt into wounds I would not have spoken.” Wishing to soothe the Elf, he discarded whatever kingly demeanor he bore and spoke to him as the younger brother of their days in Imladris.

“Tôr iuar”—older brother—“I know Legolas’ regard for me rose during the War and I cannot deny that I was pleased for I had always admired him and to have his esteem was no small thing to me. Nor can I pretend that I do not find him beautiful. Who does not? But I never encouraged him, never desired more from him than the love between war-brothers. Indeed, I was dismayed when he implied he felt otherwise for my heart has ever belonged to Arwen from the day I first saw her.”

He frowned frustratedly when his foster brother’s spirits did not lift. He tried another tack. “This love he professes for me does not strike me as true,” he mused sceptically. “For one who claims heartache from its loss, he has recovered quite remarkably in your more than capable hands.”

He felt some relief when faint color stained the twins’ cheeks. “Does it matter?” Elrohir finally responded. “Whether or not ‘tis love he feels for you, it does not change the fact that he does not care to return mine.”

“He will yet, I am certain of it. You should not give up hope, Elrohir. If ever there was one who could truly win his heart, that would be you.”

Elrohir could only manage a forlorn smile at his human brother’s attempts to comfort him. “I know not if I have the strength,” he sighed. “But better to die in the trying than to never try at all.”

Aragorn snorted. “I cannot conceive of anyone resisting your charms,” he said. “Indeed, had I been an Elf, who knows were my childhood attachment to you might have led? I thought you the most splendid creature and counted myself fortunate that you were so fond of me. My fascination with you so worried Ada Elrond that Elladan decided to do something about it.” He grinned mischievously at Elrohir’s obvious surprise. “He never told you? ‘Twas the reason he took me whoring in the Bree-land long before my majority!”

That elicited a gasped chuckle from Elrohir. “You shock me, Estel!”

“You? Shocked?” Aragorn laughed, pleased at having distracted Elrohir from his troubles. “I would think nothing could shock you any longer!” He popped a grape into his mouth.

“Nothing but my little brother hinting he felt more than fraternal love for me!”

Aragorn nearly gagged on the grape. “I said had I been an Elf!” he retorted indignantly.

The Elf-knight’s grey eyes sparkled wickedly. “Be grateful then that you are not,” he drawled. “Else I might have taken it upon myself to educate you in such matters. You were ever a comely child and one I would have gladly taken to my bed had you but asked.”

He grinned, good humor restored, as the King turned red and started to choke and splutter at his outrageous words before realizing his foster brother had neatly trapped him in a tease.

“Really, you should not blush, Estel nîn, it does not become you!”

********

While Elrohir’s breakfast discussion with Aragorn drew to an amiable close, the object of the Elf-knight’s affections wandered around the small, enclosed garden behind the residential pavilion. He did not enjoy the confined spaces of Minas Tirith and often came to this sanctuary to seek respite from the never-ending stone walls and paths of the Guarded City. Yet even here one did not feel completely in unity with nature. There was nothing like an open forest or sprawling garden to refresh the elven spirit.

After a long while, he sank down upon a bench and let his thoughts roam. He ruminated over what had passed between him and Elrohir two days ago. The darkling Elf had uttered words that Legolas could not ignore. I do not mean to judge him and yet it springs up unbidden, Legolas mused.

He had tried to console his lover the other night; tried to erase the fear he saw in the other’s eyes. In that he had failed. The ardor had been there but it was restrained. It was as if Elrohir was already preparing himself for rejection and grief.

Legolas quailed inwardly at the idea. I yielded years ago to spare him this yet now it seems it will come to pass whether we will it or not, he thought. Yet try as he might, the archer could not rid himself of his fearful, almost habitual evasion of emotional entanglement and commitment.

“A mithril-coat for your thoughts, ernilen.”—my prince.

Legolas started then laughed ruefully as Arwen came around from behind him and sat down on the other side of the bench. “You are as stealthy as a Ranger, gwathel”—sworn sister—he smiled.

She giggled and shook her head. “Nay, you were only too sunk in your thoughts,” she said. “Dark thoughts, it would seem from the look on your face.”

“I am only concerned with duties I have left untended in Ithilien while I tarry here.”

“And I am but an ignorant Shire maiden,” she twinkled. “Really, mellon nîn”—my friend—“do you think you can hide your worries from me? I do not think you have enough energy to try.”

Legolas wryly grinned. Useless to try and pretend with Arwen. She would badger him until he told the truth. Better to get it over with now.

“Is it about Elrohir?” Arwen asked to help him get started.

“Aye,” the prince admitted. “I do not know what to do about our – situation.”

Arwen looked at him then softly said, “Because you believe you cannot return his love, Legolas?” The archer stared at her in surprise. Arwen shook her head sadly. “He has told me so and when I look for evidence of his fear, ’tis not hard to discern why,” she murmured. “I feel his sorrow and see your resistance.”

“My resistance?”

“Yes, gwador”—sworn brother—“you are so fearful of stumbling into the abyss of true love that you shield your heart so fervently. Whenever he feels its coldness I see how he flinches inside. I imagine that even in the throes of passion he knows no true warmth.”

Legolas drew his breath in sharply. “I – I am sorry, meldisen.”—my friend. “I never meant to hurt him.”

“I know you do not and so does he,” she gently replied. “Why else do you think does he hold steadfast though he breaks inside?”

Legolas suddenly felt a wave of frustration wash over him. “He is not a fragile piece of glass that you should handle so delicately,” he said. “I would that he were of sterner stuff instead of holding me hostage to his need.”

Arwen’s eyes widened. A sudden glint of anger shone in their depths. “You call my brother weak?” she demanded. “A warrior of valor and great loyalty who has served those he loves so well! I did not think you capable of such scorn, Legolas!”

“I was not referring to his strength in battle but his strength within,” Legolas replied. “He should not be so tender of heart that he cannot endure its breaking.”

Arwen stared at him with a frown. “Is there any who can withstand a broken heart?” she pointed out. “Name one whom you deem so strong.”

Legolas hesitated. “Well, Aragorn for one.” He hastened to explain at Arwen’s surprised reaction. “I never saw him falter during the Quest, even when we were at the edge of despair. His heart is stronger than that of any Edhel I have known.”

“You compare Elrohir to my lord?” Arwen said. “You would forget all your millennia of shared pain and sorrow and declare that, in a few months, Estel had overtaken my brother in your esteem? That is so strange, gwador, considering that Elrohir was ever at your side, bearing the brunt of your furies and griefs down through the years.”

Legolas flushed. He suddenly recalled Elrohir’s words to him.

It feels as if in the months you spent together on the Quest, you forged a friendship with Estel that has replaced and even surpassed that which we have shared in over three thousand years.

“I spoke rashly, forgive me,” he murmured.

“But you believe it nonetheless,” she said in a hushed voice. “My poor brother. He was right in his forebodings. In your need to regain your freedom you will strike even at his very honor.”

Legolas looked up, startled, and saw there were unshed tears in her eyes. “You speak of strength but you do not understand it,” she continued, her voice shaking slightly in her perturbation. “If his heart were weak think you he would still be here to endure your unyielding one? He has lived with this for uncounted years and remained whole and steadfast. He has not faded as others would. If that does not speak of strength and courage, I do not know what does.”

Legolas was stricken. In his haste to justify his ambivalence, he had forgotten, nay, brushed aside Elrohir’s virtues and strengths. He saw that Arwen trembled with anger at him and sadness for her brother. He clasped her hand in his beseechingly.

“I am sorry,” he whispered. “Mayhap I should break with him rather than feed him false hopes,” he added hesitantly.

Arwen stared at him, aghast that he was actually considering the option. “I do not know what is right for him or you,” she finally said tightly. “But whatever you do, ernil”—prince—“please be gentle. Elrohir deserves at least that much from you.”

She abruptly disengaged her hand from his grip, rose and glided gracefully away. Legolas remained where he was, his heart heavy and his thoughts even more turbulent than ever. Small wonder that he did not sense the presence of another, hidden behind a nearby trellis of lush blossoms and thick foliage.

The intruder silently slipped away.

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

Glossary:

Ivanneth - Sindarin for September

Estel nîn - my Estel

Edhel - Elf

To be continued…
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- 12
- 13
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Greenleaf&Imladris 20-Calenlass: Heart of a Prince