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Greenleaf & Imladris 29 - Aduial: Soul of a Knight	By : MPB Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 6313 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
- 13
Author’s Note: If Elrohir seems a little precocious for his age, about six-years-old in human terms, please bear in mind that Elf-children, while slower to mature physically than human children, were, according to Prof. Tolkien, swifter in the development of their minds and talents.

Chapter XI: This Saving Grace

In the years that followed, the Elven prince found the child, Elrohir, as attached to him as he was to the Elfling. In uncanny imitation of the previous worship shown the twin by Aragorn and Eldarion, Elrohir now followed Legolas around whenever the archer came to Artirion.

Only Elladan had an equal hold on the young Elf’s affections. Their twinship, though interrupted by Elrohir’s passing into the Halls of Mandos, could not be undone. The link remained intact between the brothers even up to the unique rapport they had always shared. That was to be expected, everyone agreed. The bond forged by their yearlong companionship in their mother’s womb could not be easily broken and they had always been closer to each other than was the case with other twins.

But Elrohir’s attachment to Legolas was another thing entirely. Granted that at this stage it was on the order of pure friendship. Still none could explain, not even Elrond, the deep bond that sprang up between the woodland prince and the Imladrin lordling.

It had been thought that any memories or feelings from his past life would be late in coming and would most likely come to completion when he reached his majority. Their binding link was and always would be present but it was supposed to be subdued until the returned mate attained full maturity. Yet from the start, Elrohir was drawn to Legolas like a bee to a honey pot. Elladan put forth the supposition that it had to do with the singular intensity of the connection his twin had previously shared with the archer.

As a babe, he was content to be cradled in the archer’s arms, oft desiring them over his own parents’ embraces. Even in the changing of his swaddling clothes or bathing or being sung to sleep, he showed a marked preference for Legolas’ ministrations, many times leaving his nurse, Almariel, to look on in bemusement.

“I wager if he could suck milk from you, he would,” Elladan smirked one day as he observed Elrohir refuse to be burped by Almáriel in favor of Legolas’ shoulder.

Legolas blushed at the gibe. It came too close to the bone not to affect him. “In one thing he will certainly not change overmuch if you are to be his example,” he tartly remarked.

“Which is?”

“Your questionable sense of humor!”

Elladan grinned. “But if you were true to yourself, O Prince, you would admit that you would dearly love to suckle him as well, milk or no!”

He barely dodged the pillow the now crimson-cheeked archer one-handedly hurled at him, prompting Nimeithel to haul him out of the nursery.

“Come, hervenn”—husband—”you are risking life and limb with your wicked jests,” she chided. “Leave my brother be lest you wish to taste his temper!”

Legolas, cheeks still aflame, gazed at Elrohir again. He swallowed hard as his incipient lover joyously nuzzled his tiny face against the exposed skin of Legolas’ chest where his shirt was unlaced. He could not keep his thoughts from straying to the future when Elrohir was grown once more and...

He shook his head fiercely. It was unmeet and unwise to coddle such ideas this soon. He looked down when Elrohir snortled gleefully and found the infant Elf-lord smiling up at him, hands reaching out avidly. His heart all but bursting with happiness, he lifted Elrohir to his shoulder that his little Elf-knight might curl his arms around his neck and press his sweet countenance against the archer’s face.

*********

As Elrohir grew into boyhood, his attachment to Legolas did not wane. He was always overjoyed to see the prince, was inevitably the first to welcome him during his visits to the vale and would follow him about, his sweet comely face a picture of sheer delight at being in his friend’s company. Together with Elladan, they made a fondly regarded if amusingly uneven threesome recalling the years in Middle-earth when their triumvirate had been so complete no other Elf could come between them.

Not even Elladan’s own fun-loving twin sons could wean the re-born Elfling from the company of his dearly loved brother and deeply adored friend. Legolas, on the other hand, found his love for the younger twin deepening ever more as he experienced the rare and never to be repeated phenomenon of watching his beloved grow up. Witnessing first-hand how Elrohir had come to be the Elf-lord, warrior and lover he had known and cherished in Middle-earth only strengthened his conviction that here was the only one for him, the desire of his heart, the choice of his soul.

In this fashion did the years roll by, the bitter mingled with the sweet, as Legolas patiently waited out his Elrohir’s childhood.

*********

On a fair day in September a week or so before the brethren’s begetting day and, incidentally, Elrohir’s fifteenth, Legolas came to Artirion and Elrond’s halls and was greeted by Glorfindel upon his arrival. Knowing his intent, the fair-haired captain led him at once to the gardens behind the house. There they found Elladan on the back porch watching his sons and Erestor as the three discussed something by a large oak. Before either Legolas or Glorfindel could say a word, he quickly put his finger to his lips in a gesture asking for silence.

Legolas, wondering at the need for stealth, turned to look at the trio in the garden. It was then that he noticed something odd. Slowly and ever so deftly, Elendir and Elros would shift their positions relative to Erestor the result of which was that the steward all unknowingly was backing up against the tree. Legolas held his breath, instinct telling him something was about to befall the unsuspecting counsellor.

Instinct proved right as something indeed befell Erestor. Literally. As soon as he stepped directly below a low-hanging branch, a bucketful of water came sloshing down upon him. The steward yelped in shock and looked up. A small form hurtled down directly into Elendir’s outstretched arms and, without missing a beat, both of Elladan’s sons raced away, a giggling Elrohir in the older twin’s embrace. Erestor at once gave chase, shouting imprecations as he went, forgetful of the supposedly tender years of Elrond’s youngest.

The three on the porch doubled over in laughter before Glorfindel made to go after his beleaguered mate. “At least they did not use pond water this time,” he chortled before hurrying off.

Legolas shook his head. Like their father before them, Elendir and Elros, though past their first century, were not adverse to playing a few pranks here and then on the members of their grandsire’s household. But in this case, the archer wondered if they had been the instigators of this jape or merely willing assistants.

“Poor Erestor,” he remarked with a snicker. “Just when he thought he was safe from such jests forever.”

Still chuckling, Elladan could only nod in agreement. After a spell, he caught his breath and, smiling at Legolas, said: “You are early, gwanur.”—kinsman.

Legolas could not help a slight blush. “I left Taur Galen at dawn,” he admitted.

Elladan chuckled again. “Valar, you are eager for this visit,” he teased.

“You know I always am,” Legolas pointed out, his cheeks crimsoning further.

“Aye, and I do not blame you,” the twin said soothingly. “And I would call your arrival timely. I was planning to take Elrohir to the Tirion market right after the midday meal. ‘Twill be his first visit there. Your company will gladden him even more.”

Legolas smiled with pleasure. “Then my haste was well worth it.”

His smile was even brighter much later when they made the brief trip to Tirion. They seldom rode to the elven city on the crown of Túna for it was less than an hour’s walk from neighboring Artirion. But with a youngling in their charge, the older Elves decided it would be more prudent to ride should said youngling tire before day’s end.

Elrohir’s excitement during the trip was such that he could scarcely keep quiet for more than a few minutes at any given time. It only waxed when they finally arrived at the public stables and, after tethering their steeds within, entered the bustling marketplace. The young Elf’s eyes increasingly widened as they made their way around the various stalls and down narrow streets.

In one street alone, the air was redolent with the aroma of freshly baked breads and pastries which lay cheek by jowl beside delectable sweets and freshly churned butter, golden cheese, pots of honey and jugs of milk and cream. Further on were stalls of poultry and game and produce and the morning’s catch from the Bay of Eldamar, still fresh and smelling of the salty sea. Haunches of venison, sides of wild boar and trussed up chickens, hare, pheasants and partridges hung from wicked looking butcher’s hooks. Vegetables and fruits, both wild and cultivated, were laid out in glorious profusion on wide boards and tall shelves. And the silvery bounty of the ocean gleamed in large wooden vats and atop well-scrubbed tables. Tucked in between the stalls were tiny shops that carried all manner of drink from the finest wines to the heartiest ales.

Beyond the foods stalls were stores that carried a dizzying variety of dry goods. Cloth of every color and texture, footwear to suit every occasion, thick rope and silken cords, parchment and quills and inks, bladed instruments for the kitchen and the fields of battle, paints of all colors and every size and shape of brush imaginable, jewelry and ornaments of gold and silver and precious stones, skillfully embroidered or woven tapestries and carpets – it was nigh impossible to think of anything the market of Tirion did not provide.

Legolas and Elladan laughed as their young charge ran from one stall to another, staring raptly at everything on display. He was even more delighted when Legolas presented him with a berry tart, one of his favorite sweets, while Elladan procured cups of cool fruit nectar for all three of them.

They eventually had the pleasure to bump into Gimli and the hobbits who had sallied forth from their cozy house to replenish their larders; it was not surprising that there was more than one pantry in a home designed for hobbits. Bilbo was busy selecting breakfast victuals at one stall while nearby, Sam fussily picked over mushrooms and carrots for a stew he planned to cook for their evening meal. Frodo, on the other hand, was engaged in a debate with Gimli at the meat stall, the hobbit trying to convince the Dwarf of the merits of venison over wild boar.

Merry greetings were exchanged all around as soon as they discovered each other’s presence. Bilbo plopped down a basketful of bread, butter and cheese, beaming with satisfaction at his purchases.

“I will say this for elven markets,” he declared with a grin. “The goods aren’t overpriced, the quality is always excellent and no one tries to cheat you!”

“Not to mention that it never stinks,” Sam added with a chuckle.

“Which is more than I can say about the markets of Rohan or Gondor for that matter,” Gimli put in gruffly. “Even Aragorn could not fix that problem!”

About to bite into a toothsome cream pastry Frodo had handed him, Elrohir looked up in surprise. “You knew Elessar well, Gimli?” he queried.

Elladan swiftly replied: “But of course, tôr neth.”—young brother. “Gimli was one of the Company of Nine.”

Elrohir stared at the Dwarf with even more respect. “I did not know that,” he said. “Ada mentioned a Dwarf but he did not say ‘twas you.”

Gimli could not quite hide his displeasure at having been unwittingly left unnamed by Master Elrond after all these years. The hobbits guffawed at his discomfiture.

“And who else did your father forget to tell you about?” Bilbo inquired.

Elrohir shrugged. “I know about Mithrandir and Aragorn of course. And there was another man, I think.”

“Boromir, the heir of the Steward of Gondor,” Elladan supplied.

Elrohir looked confused. “But I thought it was Faramir who served Elessar as Steward and that Boromir was his son,” he said.

“Boromir died during the Quest,” Legolas quietly explained. “And so his brother Faramir became Steward instead. He named his firstborn son after his brother.”

Elrohir shook his head. “It seems Ada has been remiss in his teachings,” he said. “Though he was quite thorough about the hobbits in the Company.” He looked at Frodo. “I should have liked to have met Merry and Pippin,” he told the Ring-bearer. “Legolas told me they were much fun to be with.”

A slightly pensive gleam flickered in the hobbit’s eyes. “That they were,” he agreed. “And loyal and valorous besides. They were my good friends as well as my cousins.”

“You must miss them terribly,” Elrohir said sympathetically.

“We all do,” Frodo said with a smile for the Elfling. “But we try to remember the happy times we had with them and that is often enough to comfort us.”

Elrohir frowned “I try to think of the happy times I’ve had with Legolas but I still feel sad when he goes home,” he said honestly. “Why doesn’t it work for me?”

Frodo glanced at the Elven prince; both he and Bilbo had long been informed of Legolas’ relationship with Elrohir. The archer could not quite conceal the pleasure the child’s statement gave him. With a grin, the hobbit turned his attention back to the waiting Elf-knight.

“It doesn’t work all the time,” he said. “You can be so close to someone that memories are not enough to make you feel better if you aren’t with that someone.”

Elrohir thought about it then nodded. “Aye, it isn’t enough for me,” he said. “I like being with Legolas all the time.”

He flashed a sweet, trusting smile at the archer. Legolas swallowed hard and just barely managed to stifle the impulse to sweep the child into his arms and bestow a multitude of affectionate kisses upon him. He felt a comforting hand on his arm and looked down into Gimli’s understanding eyes. He collected himself and warmly returned Elrohir’s smile.

“Well, eat your pastry,” Bilbo briskly said to the Elfling. “And come along with us. We’re going to buy apples and blueberries for pies. You should taste my pies. The very best they were in Hobbiton and that’s no empty boast!”

Elladan and Legolas watched as Elrohir happily accompanied the hobbits and Gimli to one of the fruit stalls. At length, the twin regarded the archer musingly. Legolas was looking at Elrohir rather wistfully.

“What is wrong, gwador?”—sworn brother—he asked.

Legolas turned shadowed eyes on him. “I miss my mate,” he whisperingly admitted.

Elladan looked at him with curiously veiled eyes. “Yet he is returned,” he said.

“Aye, but with no memory of our past together,” Legolas sighed. “And even the love I once felt through our bond is changed. I just realized that the last I knew it was on the dawn of his birth.” His eyes suddenly glittered. “It was so strong that it awakened me that day. I have not felt it since. It is as if our binding channel has been blocked.”

Sympathy limned the Elvenlord’s gaze. “You do comprehend that it is necessary,” he said. “No child can be burdened with the feelings and desires that a binding elicits. Paticularly the desires of the body.”

“I know that,” Legolas said. “And thus I oft wonder why the Powers did not simply release him as he was when he passed away.”

Elladan shook his head. “We cannot question the Valar’s reasons for choosing this way for him,” he gently pointed out. “But even beyond that there is the value of rebirth. ‘Tis said it allows more complete healing than simple re-embodiment. The spirit is rejuvenated and the body strengthened because of the second conception and growth to majority. His eternal flame will burn more brightly and fiercely because of this.”

Legolas was silent for a space. “I cannot wish for anything less than the best for Elrohir,” he finally acceded. “If the Valar deem this the right path for him then so be it. But I am still lonely for his love, Elladan, more so now that he can no longer express it to me. Even for a single lover’s touch do I yearn so deeply that I feel no peace of heart or soul. I am like him; the memories are not always enough to assuage the longing.”

Elladan looked at him thoughtfully. “Are you so needful that you need another’s comforting?” he asked cautiously. At the archer’s startled glance at him, he said, “You are probably the most sought-after Elf in Eldamar at present.” Legolas flushed. He was all too aware of the covetous gazes that had followed him all afternoon. “And mayhap the loneliest. I would not blame you were you to seek company while you await Elrohir’s majority.”

Legolas abruptly glared at him. “Do you think me so faithless that I would betray my vow to him?” he snapped.

Elladan raised placating hands. “I did not mean to impugn your fidelity or integrity, Legolas,” he said. “But I am aware of the terrible burden you bear. Loneliness can drive us to do things we would otherwise not even consider. Even one as valiant as you.”

Legolas swallowed hard. “I am indeed terribly lonely,” he said somewhat bitterly. “But to couple with another for no reason other than to answer a need will be far more injurious to my heart and soul. I belong to Elrohir alone. I cannot share what is his with any other. Nor do I desire to.”

He was surprised when Elladan suddenly hugged him tightly. When the warrior drew back, there was no mistaking the relief in his countenance. “I confess, gwanur, that I have feared for some time that you would fail in your resolve and do something you would rue evermore,” he admitted. “‘Tis not for Elrohir’s sake that I harbored anxieties but for yours. I know you, Legolas. You would never forgive yourself for transgressing against him with another Edhel. I did not want to witness your eternal self-debasement for something wrought of suffering and not true wanting.”

For a moment, the archer stared at his law-brother nonplussed. And then he understood how concerned Elladan had been about him but had skillfully hidden it so as not to further trouble him. He found himself smiling albeit wanly.

“Do not worry overmuch about me, gwanur,” he softly assured the warrior. “I am needful of love but only his love. No other will suffice.”

His smile turned luminous as he espied the hobbits and Gimli returning. And his Elf-knight. He glanced at Elladan again, blue eyes sparkling with renewed vigor.

“Only his,” he repeated. And he swept Elrohir into a tender embrace as the young Elf ran up to him.

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

Glossary:

Ada - Papa

gwador - sworn brother

Edhel - Elf

To be continued…
- 11
- 12
- 13
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Greenleaf & Imladris 29 - Aduial: Soul of a Knight