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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 XI

“He saw you?!”

The question was uttered not so much as a request for confirmation as a statement of incredulity. Elladan stared at his brother with a mixture of shock, disbelief and realization.

It was the morning of Legolas’ begetting day. Elladan had come to his room to wish him luck, tongue firmly in cheek. Legolas had already proven more than a handful within days of their arrival in the forest kingdom. Neither twin expected that to change on the day marking his conception.

When Elladan followed up that wish with one of condolence as well, Elrohir decided to confide the truth behind his freshly mended rift with Legolas. It was clear Elladan still harbored some resentment against the young prince for treating his brother rather shabbily and Elrohir did not want any lingering rancor to mar the day for Legolas. The older twin’s reaction was not unexpected.

Elladan sank down into a hearthside chair. “No wonder he behaved so strangely,” he muttered. “Valar, I can see why he could not tell you at once.” He frowned. “But why did he not ask his sire or any of his brothers? Galvreth would have listened or even Elivorn or Aelluin.”

Elrohir shook his head. “And did we ask Father about our own youthful yearnings?” he pointed out. “As I recall, we were both much too embarrassed by what we felt to approach him for counsel and sought advice from other quarters. You asked it of Erestor, remember?”

“Because I trusted Erestor enough to understand how I felt,” Elladan replied unthinkingly.

“Without fearing his censure or amusement as we thought our parents might do,” Elrohir completed the thought for him. “‘Tis exactly why I went to Glorfindel for my own enlightenment. Now why would Legolas feel any differently? As for Galvreth or the others… well, ‘tis easy to inquire about a general curiosity but I do not think he feels comfortable enough with them to confide so personal and specific a problem. Not yet.” He gestured to his window to encompass the rest of the kingdom. “And who else could he approach? None, Elladan. None that he felt enough confidence in to entrust this secret.” He shook his head. “Do not judge him harshly. He is so young and in many ways alone and without aid or guidance, even now when some of his brethren are no longer his foes.”

“I see your point,” Elladan conceded. He thoughtfully looked at his twin. “You defend him so passionately, gwanneth.”—younger twin. “I wonder if he stirs far more in you than mere protectiveness toward a charge.”

“He is still a youngling,” Elrohir said cautiously, taken aback by the sudden change in topic.

“A youngling in years but methinks no longer as much in his thoughts and feelings,” Elladan commented. “Have you not marked how he regards you of late? ‘Tis with the eyes of a budding lover that he now views you, Elrohir, not as the child who worshipped you for championing him.” The older twin leaned back in the chair, elbows resting on the armrests, and linked his fingers contemplatively. “I do not think he will wait until his majority afore he claims you in some manner.”

Elrohir suddenly flushed and looked away. Elladan gazed at him with sympathy. “And you wish you did not have to wait either,” he stated. “But after all, he is grown even more beautiful than any of us expected.”

“Too beautiful,” Elrohir muttered. “Thank Eru that he is not yet aware of his effect on me.”

“He will be soon enough,” Elladan said. “And he will use it to full advantage if I am any reader of character. Beware the sweetness of this particular temptation, brother. You are beholden to protect his bodily innocence.”

“Well I know it, Elladan. You need not remind me of my duty.”

“Yet I would remind you that innocence can be relative,” Elladan softly added. Elrohir’s silence told him that the younger twin had already considered the point but dared not voice it. Elladan took it upon himself to do so. “He is Sindarin in blood but a Wood-elf in all else. I think the limits placed upon you in this matter are more… flexible than amongst our own folk. They may be worth exploring.”

“Yet it will be perilous to do so,” Elrohir somberly said. “‘Tis not always easy to desist from crossing the line. Or know if one has crossed it in the first place.”

“If any would succeed in discerning the right path ‘twould be you,” Elladan said encouragingly. “You are sage beyond your years and honorable as well. I do not think you will wrong Legolas when you tutor him in the ways of his body’s needs.”

“You mean ‘if’.”

“Nay, I mean ‘when’. Your little leaf is no timid prude in the mold of Elivorn’s maiden. You may find yourself hard-pressed to hold the line against his advance!”

Elrohir was about to make a tart reply saying his brother was being no help at all to his already simmering apprehensions but he was forestalled by the appearance of the object of their discussion in his doorway.

Legolas was aglow with anticipation this fine morning, delighted that the Elf-knight was his for the day. His felicity served to point up his ethereal comeliness. Elrohir had to take a deep, restoring breath to calm the sudden quickening of his heart at so fair a vision.

**********

Begetting days other than those that heralded the age of majority were not generally celebrated with much more than a good dinner and a toast unless a remarkable achievement was being lauded or the celebrant requested some special event to mark it. Legolas was no exception and he had not even given much thought to it beyond what he would ask the royal kitchen to serve for the evening meal. But Elrohir’s arrival suddenly made the day worthy of notice simply because he was there to observe it with him.

He did not alter his mind about dinner or the viands to be served save to add a particular sweet much favored by Elrohir, which was the chocolate-topped, cream-filled pastry he first tasted when he and Legolas bonded over a clandestine late night repast in the kitchen. But his original plan to do naught more than attend to his usual duties and pastimes did change and he asked his father if he could spend the day as he wished with the Elf-knight. The request was readily granted and Legolas happily talked Elrohir into going on a whole day’s ride with him to the northern bounds of the green wood, something the younger twin had foregone that disastrous second day of his and Elladan’s visit.

A ride through this portion of the forest was not something to scoff at. The beasts of the northernmost part of Eryn Galen did not shy from wayfarers and passed freely to and fro as they made their way to den or nest or burrow. The growth was wilder and younger and even more densely packed; thus, any open space was greeted with great relief and treated with much reverence. And from the very edge of the forest one could view the mysterious Ered Mithrin, a largely unexplored region in this later age save by the Dwarves who mined it for metal. The Grey Mountains loomed over the horizon ranging eastward from craggy-peaked Mt. Gundabad, silent and portentous and beautiful in their awful majesty. It was a sight not meant to be missed if one could help it.

There was a small and pristine clearing serviced by a bubbling stream midway between the edge of the forest and the heart of the Woodland Realm that oft served as a camping site for the elven guards who patrolled this neck of the woods. But when any of the royal sons came to it all others steered clear to afford them their privacy. That was the case today when Legolas and Elrohir rode into the glade on their way back from the border. Not another Elf was to be seen though both knew there were guards close enough to ensure the place was secure but not so near as to intrude on them.

Thranduil’s butler Galion had provided them with food and wine for their midday meal. Elrohir watched with a mixture of affection and uneasiness as Legolas spread out a large mantle and laid out the sumptuous picnic repast. The uneasiness was due to his knowledge that the clearing was also oft used as a trysting place by Legolas’ brothers, far from the prying eyes of the common folk. The Wood-elves were a kind and valiant people but they were also given to too much curiosity about their rulers’ affairs, both official and personal. Elrohir did not believe Legolas would attempt to instigate anything unseemly nor would the Elf-knight permit it but the associations with the place were strong and he could not lightly dismiss them.

As they ate, Legolas recounted what news of the kingdom Elrohir may not have yet heard. The brethren kept track of vital political or economic matters but domestic issues did not always reach their ears. The prince’s narration ranged from the latest development in Elivorn’s cautious wooing of his Elf-maid to the recent spat between Galion and Thranduil’s treasurer over some discrepancies in the kitchen accounts. Elrohir listened with interest and stored away what might prove of significance some other time.

“Do you recall Lalleth?” Legolas abruptly asked. “She is the daughter of Papa’s friend, Beldulus.”

“I remember her. She was a playmate of yours, wasn’t she?”

“Aye, she was. Well, she is to wed next month. Her parents announced it just last night.”

Elrohir nearly choked on his wine. “Wed? But she is only a few years older than you!”

“Five years,” Legolas supplied.

The twin frowned in some distaste. “Why the haste to marry her off?” he queried. “She is too young.”

“Not so young that she could not get with child,” Legolas said with a shrug. Ignoring Elrohir’s soft exclamation of shock, he explained: “Her family does not want the babe to be born out of wedlock or for her belly to grow so big that it draws more attention than the exchange of vows.”

The Elf-knight sighed and shook his head. He would never truly get used to this quaint practice however often he visited Eryn Galen. Though he had betrothed himself to Legolas in order to protect the prince from the less savory aspects of the custom, it still seemed a distant thing to him. But not now. Not when he personally knew the young Elf in question.

Legolas blithely continued with his recounting. “Galion’s son Ithilas told me the other day that he has chosen his first lover. ‘Tis Gilthalion’s second-in-command, Faroniel. I am not in the least surprised. He has been infatuated with her for as long as I can remember.”

“Oh, and there was very nearly a war between two of Papa’s counsellors. It seems they both had their eyes on Fingaran – you know, Emelin’s minx of a son? Mitharas cleverly plucked him afore Halthôn knew what he was about. Halthôn is furious but I think ‘tis more about hurt pride that a junior counsellor bested him. No matter, Fingaran seems quite pleased with himself. But then Mitharas is handsomer than Halthôn or so he claims and probably a good measure more energetic, too!”

Elrohir shifted uneasily, unable to share in Legolas’ mirth. He put down the juicy peach he had been about to bite into.

“Are you trying to tell me something, ernil neth?—young prince?—he softly inquired.

Legolas looked at him in wide-eyed innocence. “Tell you something?” he echoed. “What makes you think that I am?”

“You seem to be following a particular thread of thought,” Elrohir pointed out. “Is there something you wish to talk about with me?”

Legolas started then frowned and looked away. “It appears that I am the only Elf in this kingdom who can do naught else but talk with his intended,” he muttered. “But that is to be expected I suppose given who mine is.”

A sudden pang smote Elrohir. He compelled Legolas to face him. “Do you have your eye on some Elf but stay yourself from making a move because of our betrothal?” he carefully probed. “Mayhap one of your comrades or some sweet elleth?”

Legolas stared at him. “Why do you ask? Is it that you do not wish to be betrothed to me any longer?”

“Nay, Legolas. I only desire your happiness and if that entails giving you the freedom to do as you will, then so be it. ‘Twas a stipulation I made ere we signed the contract years ago.”

Legolas shook his head. “There is no one else. Aye, I know what ‘tis like to see some fair Elf and wonder about his or her charms. But I have not felt anything more. Unlike – unlike when I am with you, Elrohir. ‘Tis a yearning that sometimes frightens me.”

“Frightens you?”

Legolas sighed and leaned his head on the Elf-knight’s shoulder. “I do not understand why I feel this way but I know that I would do aught that you asked of me without pause.”

Elrohir caught his breath at the admission. “I would never ask of you what you cannot abide,” he insisted. “Nor would I demand it of you so soon, my Greenleaf.”

“This from one who is known for his own healthy appetite for all manner of love play,” Legolas said with a shaky laugh. He lifted his head and looked uncertainly at the twin.

Elrohir stared at him speechlessly. When he regained his tongue, he slowly repeated the young Elf’s words. “All manner of love play? Wherever did you get that impression?”

“‘Tis mere talk at court,” Legolas admitted. “But many say that since you bear human blood, you most likely are partial to some of the mortals’ baser bed-games as well.”

Elrohir let out a disbelieving snort. “The Peredhil are not devotees of lechery whatever blood we carry in our veins!” he exclaimed. “What do your folk take us for? Shameless libertines?”

“But I thought—” Legolas looked at him in puzzlement. “Have you not had many lovers?”

“Not as many as you seem to expect, Legolas. For one thing, I only had two score years to take lovers afore our betrothal. And even had I had more time, I still would not have accepted all who sought entry into my bed. Yea, I may have indulged myself more fulsomely than others but never in any way that demeaned my partners as you seem to suggest.” He suddenly realized that the earlier tension in Legolas’ eyes had all but dissipated. “Valar, you thought that I might—” He stopped, offended by this apparent skepticism of his gentility insofar as bed-play was concerned.

Legolas saw the budding ire in his eyes and at once flung his arms around his shoulders. “Oh, I did not mean that you would hurt me!” he cried. “I only wondered what sharing your bed would entail and the stories I had heard led me to think that – that I would not be able to satisfy you in my ignorance of what humans consider sufficient for their needs.”

Elrohir stared at him then relaxed and wrapped a reassuring arm around him. “Their needs are not unlike ours,” he gently said. “Those who indulge in excess comprise no more than the smallest portion of any population. There will always be men and Elves whose taste in the love arts will go beyond what is considered the norm. But a few do not reflect the whole. And an occasional experiment does not mark one as a lover of debauchery anymore than the choice to abstain makes one a prude. One thing I can assure you of is that I will never see you as a mere bed-treat. Now that would be depraved of me and you would do yourself a favor to dispense with my attentions forthwith should I ever stoop so low.”

Legolas smiled and shook his head. “Even if you did, I would not be able to break away from you,” he earnestly said. Taking a deep breath, he declared: “I love you, Elrohir. You will say that I am much too green to know my feelings but I think otherwise. I love you and I have done so for as long as I can remember. Mayhap once ‘twas but a child’s infatuation but not anymore. Else why do I long to join all that I am and have with you and yours? I do not expect you to return the sentiment. You agreed to the betrothal out of kindness and your desire to protect me. But I accepted it because I wanted to belong to you, Elf-knight. From the moment you took my hand and led me out from behind my brothers’ shadow, I longed to call myself yours.”

“Legolas…” Elrohir fell silent, seeking to appease his raucous feelings in the wake of the prince’s confession of a long-ago desire. He did not mistake the earlier childish yearning for anything other than the hero worship Legolas had lavished on him with all innocence. But it was clear that somewhere between those halcyon days and the tumultuous present, that worship had evolved into something else. Elladan was right. Legolas no longer saw him as his champion of old.

Legolas perceived his ambivalence. But he did not want Elrohir to linger on their past. It would only slow the Elf-knight’s acquiescence in fostering further intimacy between them. Impulsively, he kissed the younger twin on the mouth. It was not like the ritual kiss they exchanged as part of their greetings but it also fell far short of what might be expected of lovers. But that was not surprising. Legolas was a novice in the love arts and his inexperience was clearly evinced now. Yet even so tentative a caress was enough to elicit a start of surprise from Elrohir, the touch of the young prince’s lips on his summoning an answering heat in his groin.

Legolas drew back upon feeling the abrupt movement and anxiously gazed at Elrohir. The Elf-knight’s expression was not encouraging. He looked startled and dismayed and was obviously searching for some way out of what he undoubtedly thought another predicament foisted on him by the woodland prince.

The young Elf flushed in a fit of humiliation. Mumbling a choked, “I am sorry,” he began to rise, thinking to flee before Elrohir saw the treacherous brightness of his eyes. But a strong hand caught him by the wrist and pulled him back. Still he would not look at Elrohir lest he reveal his shame to him.

The Elf-knight took the choice from him however. Cupping Legolas’ face he compelled the prince to face him. The countenance he beheld was dolorous to put it mildly. The crystalline eyes gleamed with barely checked tears while the sculpted lips quivered with tightly suppressed emotion. Yet even in so woeful a mood, said countenance was breathtaking to say the least. It was simply too much even for one of Elrohir’s adamantine resolve.

Drawing Legolas closer he bent and caught those trembling lips in a gentle kiss. But there was nothing chaste about the caress for all its tenderness. A warm tongue tip coaxed Legolas' lips apart and he swiftly learned the reason for it. Where previously he had not known enough to do this he now discovered the full benefit of it when Elrohir sealed their mouths together in molten union.

Legolas clutched hard at the arms that held him. His surging blood seemed as a thunderous roar to him and his heart as cacophonous as the beat of an Easterling’s war drum. A moment later, he felt Elrohir gently seek entrance into his mouth and he eagerly permitted the incursion. Moaning in delight, he curled his arms around the twin’s shoulders, fervently giving himself up to the rapturous flow of feelings rushing through him. Elrohir hastily quelled the impulse to bear the prince down and strip him bare. Elbereth, but Legolas was such an enthusiastic student!

When he broke the kiss Legolas whimpered with disappointment, which was swiftly followed by a groan of frustration. The reason was glaringly apparent.

Elrohir did not need to see the evidence hidden beneath the prince’s tunic to know he was highly aroused and suffering from the lack of release. His teary eyes had turned glazed and heavy-lidded with lust and his mouth no longer trembled with shame but with stark need. His short breaths further betrayed his body’s tightly strung state.

Elrohir could not help recalling Elladan’s advice spoken only that morning. It seemed he would indeed have to explore the ways and means by which he might aid Legolas without committing the irrevocable act of relieving him of his virginity. Making his decision, he drew Legolas onto his lap until the prince was astride him.

Legolas gazed at him in bemusement, a trifle apprehensive at the strange gleam in Elrohir’s argent eyes. But the loosening of his breech laces was something he could not ignore and he glanced down in disbelief to find Elrohir undoing his trousers with one hand while the other rested on his back, steadying him when he started in his surprise. His mouth suddenly dry, Legolas jerked his stare back up to meet the Elf-knight’s eyes.

“What are you going to—?” he started to ask in confusion.

His query was cut off by a swift kiss. With a slight shake of his head, Elrohir caught his gaze and held it. Legolas stared back, anxiety and anticipation chasing each other across his expressive features.

The prince’s breeches came undone and sagged down around his hips. Still holding Legolas’ gaze, Elrohir eased his hand down into the young Elf’s crotch and freed his straining shaft, eliciting a strangled gasp from the prince. With a smile that left Legolas a-shiver, he dropped his eyes to regard the flesh he held in his hand. His smile widened for the prince’s shaft showed every promise of becoming a formidable sword when he matured into a full-grown Elf. Unthinkingly, Legolas followed his lead then wished he had not. The sight of Elrohir’s fingers and palm caressing his length and the delicate flesh beneath nearly unmanned him in that moment.

“Sweet Eru…” he whispered shakily, eyes closing as sensation overtook him. A litany of moans and whimpers escaped him as Elrohir repeatedly fondled him – lightly stroking his rigid shaft or gently cupping the twin pouches of tenderly soft flesh below it. Overcome, Legolas buried his face in the crook of Elrohir’s neck.

His reactions were far more than Elrohir had prepared himself for and the Elf-knight’s body not only came alive with answering lust but also urged him to seek more of the prince’s sweet graces. Forgetting his resolve, he let his hand slip lower. His fingers, slick with Legolas’ nascent seed, followed the sensitive path beneath the prince’s shaft to the beginning of the cleft up his backside. Legolas lifted himself slightly to accommodate the enticing caress, wanting something but not quite knowing what that something was. Until he felt the slight press of a finger into him.

Gasping, he reared, shocked by the intimate intrusion. His response shook Elrohir out of his haze and he swiftly eased his hand away. It was dangerous to breach the prince’s body even in that manner for if he roused Legolas’ desire overmuch, he might prove hard-pressed, even hopelessly so, to resist the young Elf’s pleas to take him without further delay. When Legolas started to protest his withdrawal, he distracted him by curling his hand around the young Elf’s shaft and stroking it firmly. That promptly banished all other thought from the prince’s mind and he was soon thrusting wildly into the Elf-knight’s knowing hand, oblivious of everything but the ecstasy each and every stroke fetched him.

With a sobbing cry, Legolas spilled himself into Elrohir’s hand. Trembling, he held on to the twin for a long while, his breath coming in shallow gusts. Elrohir stroked his back in soothing circles, occasionally reaching up to run his fingers through slightly tousled golden hair.

He thought to wipe his other hand on the mantle then paused, wavering between good sense and desire. His fingers glistened with the young Elf’s milky release and he fought the temptation to lick them clean and thereby taste Legolas’ creamy seed. Reason warned him that if he caved in to instinct, he would likely lose all control and bury himself in the slender body he held in his arms. Stilling his desire, he determinedly wiped his fingers clean, using the action to calm his still rapidly beating heart though not his arousal. Not quite.

Legolas became aware of the hardness that nudged his thigh through the fabric of their breeches. He drew back and glanced down, catching his breath when he saw the bulge in the Elf-knight’s crotch. As if mesmerized, he began to reach down to touch it. Elrohir quickly caught his hand and stopped him.

“Nay, I do not expect that of you,” he said.

“Why not?” Legolas protested. “You helped me. Why will you not let me do the same for you?”

“‘Tis one thing to give you pleasure or teach you the means to attain it on your own,” Elrohir explained, uncomfortably aware of the acutely thin line he was treading. “But to take my pleasure of you is an entirely different matter. Our laws forbid such intimacy with one not yet of age.”

Legolas stared at him. “Then Papa was telling me the truth? He did not make that up just to hinder me?”

“Nay, he did not.”

“But ‘tis not forbidden here.”

Elrohir sighed and eased the prince off his lap. Legolas’ nearness to the source of his discomfort made it difficult to think with much clarity.

“Legolas, in all elvendom, ‘tis only here that it is not forbidden. But you are a Sindarin prince, not Silvan. Your sire and grandsire are pure Sindar of the most noble house of the brethren Elwë and Olwë. You may rule Wood-elves yet your heritage dictates that you abide by the laws of the Eldar.”

Legolas looked at him curiously. “Did you desist ere you came of age?”

“That I did,” Elrohir replied. “The most I knew when I was your age were a few stolen kisses among my fellow younglings. No one touched me more intimately until I reached my majority. And even then it was not until a few years after that I finally lost my innocence.”

A flash of cognition hit Legolas at his words. An old explanation from many years back surfaced and suddenly gained new meaning.

“To Gildor Inglorion?” Legolas demanded, scowling in quick anger.

Elrohir shook his head in mingled dismay and amusement. “You were not even born then,” he reminded the prince. “Surely you do not take umbrage at something that occurred afore we were promised to each other.”

Legolas bit back the acid comment he wished to make but he could not dispel his displeasure. He turned his face away and stared into the distance, striving to master his surging jealousy. Elrohir sighed and made him face him once more.

“If it will ease your heart, I would have you know that ‘twas not I who submitted then.”

The blue eyes lit up in surprise. “Are you saying that you have never—?” When Elrohir nodded, he asked, “Why?”

“‘Tis not my nature to yield myself unless I can wholly trust my partner. I chose to wait for the one to whom I could entrust my all and suffice to say my waiting is not yet done.”

Legolas regarded him with a curious mixture of respect and relief. A hesitant but hopeful smile curved his lips. “Will you wait for me, rochiren?”—my knight?—he asked.

Elrohir caught his breath. Once before, Legolas had asked him that same question and he had not been able to deny him. Nor could he do so now. Whether or not they eventually mated for eternity, he knew that Legolas would reap his first surrender as surely as he would be the prince’s first and likely only lover.

“I will,” he softly said.

A radiant smile lit Legolas’ face. With a giggle, he leaned forward and stole a kiss from Elrohir. Grinning, he said: “I can hardly wait!”

Elrohir half laughed, half groaned. “What are you thinking, Legolas?” he asked warily when a thoughtful expression sobered the prince’s jubilant mien.

“You said there are things you may not do with me until I come of age,” he said.

“That is correct.”

“But kissing is permitted?”

“Kissing is permitted,” Elrohir said with a smile.

“And you may think of me when you pleasure yourself?” Legolas added.

“As you may think of whoever you desire when you do the same,” the Elf-knight replied.

“That would be you, Elrohir, and you well know it!”

“I did not wish to presume though, as I said before, I do not mind and indeed am flattered that ‘tis I you keep in your thoughts.”

Legolas laughed then suddenly said: “I watched you pleasure yourself. Was it wrong?”

Elrohir hesitated. “You did so in secret,” he pointed out. “Had I known I would have stopped.”

“But is it forbidden?” Legolas persisted.

“Well, it is not expressly disallowed,” Elrohir hedged. “‘Tis not unheard of for younglings to pleasure themselves in the presence of their fellows.” His breath hitched at the sudden gleam in the prince’s eyes. “But ‘tis considered uncouth of a full-grown Elf to wittingly have one of your age bear witness to such an act!”

The gleam in Legolas’ eyes grew even brighter. “Uncouth but not forbidden,” he stated with a smile that bode mischief.

Elrohir stared at him, amazed at the leaps in reasoning the prince was capable of making when he sought to achieve his goal. Wordlessly, he nodded in affirmation of Legolas’ surmise. The gleam turned positively wicked.

In one smooth movement, Legolas straddled his lap once more. “Then delay no more, Elf-knight, and please yourself,” he whispered. “Know that it would greatly please me as well.”

Elrohir could only groan as soft lips eagerly closed in on his and determined hands insistently unlaced his breeches. Nor did he find the wherewithal to protest when Legolas took his hand and silently urged him to pleasure himself ere the prince took up his own renewed need that they might find blissful release together.

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

Glossary:

elleth – Elf-maid

Elwë – Elu Thingol, King of Doriath in the First Age

Olwë – Elwë’s brother and Lord of the Teleri in Valinor

Peredhil – Half-elves/Half-elven

To be continued…
- 11
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- 13
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Twilight Tales - An Ounce of Kindness