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Princes Three: Any Shelter
By : nuwing
Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male
Views: 10364 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0Disclaimer: 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
Chapter 12~Imladris 2151 III~
“I will send an escort with you to the upper pass,” Elrond said thoughtfully, his gaze focused on the map spread across his cluttered desk. “The passage through the Misty Mountains becomes more and more treacherous. Each season it seems the ruffians become bolder and the weather more harsh.”
“I arrived safely with naught but my guard,” Thranduil replied, a touch of reproof in his voice. “They could no doubt see me home in like manner.”
“No doubt,” the Lord of Imladris agreed dryly. “But I would not have it said that I abandoned the King of Taur-na-Fuin to his fate. And I fear I have an ulterior motive, mellonen.”
“Indeed?”
“Indeed,” Elrond admitted. “The gwanûn crossed the peaks with Arahael and his company on their trek to your realm. They will likely be returning alone, and...”
“...would think little of a guard party sent to herd them home,” Thranduil finished with a father’s instinctive understanding. “But they can hardly begrudge me an escort, and as we are likely to cross paths in the mountains...”
“Exactly.”
“They will certainly see through the ruse,” the woodland king pointed out with a slight smile.
“Undoubtedly,” Elrond answered, a grin very much like his younger son’s lighting his face. “But I trust they are too well-schooled in diplomacy to make a fuss in the presence of visiting nobility.”
Thranduil pondered the map briefly. “If they leave the Halls as planned tomorrow, with the new moon of Ivanneth, we should arrive at the high pass at nearly the same time. The battle party was headed for Ered Mithrin at the time of my departure. If all is well, there should be no cause to delay them past their expected return.”
Laying a hand on Elrond’s arm, the king asked impulsively, “Can you not reach the gwanûn?”
“At times I can, aye,” the peredhel replied cautiously. “But our link is not reliable, by any means. I rarely attempt contact over any great distance. They are young, their abilities sporadic, and I fear causing distraction at some crucial moment.”
“They should have reached the Halls soon after I entered the valley,” Thranduil said quietly. “If there were no problems, the dangers are long behind them. And the ease with which Legolas and the gwanûn communicate is impressive.”
“’Tis a somewhat different situation,” the Lord of Imladris pointed out carefully. “Though I do not understand it completely.”
“’Tis as though they are bound in some way,” Thranduil agreed with characteristic frankness. “Legolas had shown no previous ability, and I did not expect such to appear for several more centuries.”
Meeting his friend’s twilight gaze, the king added, “But your line is gifted in such things, and Elladan and Elrohir carry the blood of Galadriel, as well.”“I will attempt to establish a connection, if you wish,” Elrond said slowly. “I do not deny that I have desired to seek reassurance.”
“It would make my leaving easier to bear, if I knew them safe and whole,” Thranduil responded honestly. “But I do not ask that you move against your own judgement.”
“I do not,” the Peredhel assured his companion. Moving to sit in one of the overstuffed chairs that flanked his desk, he added wryly, “Make yourself comfortable, mellonen. We shall likely be here a while.”
With that Elrond closed his eyes, his thoughts already reaching out toward Mirkwood.
**********************************
~Mirkwood 2151 III~
Anteruon presided with evident satisfaction over the farewell feast he had ordered for the last night of the twins’ visit. Lanterns swung gaily from branches overhead as the muted rumble of conversation and laughter rose from the crowded tables, warriors and diplomats alike enjoying the unusually lavish offerings.
“You have bested Ada, I do believe,” Legolas announced with a smile, raising his glass in an impromptu toast to his brother. “’Tis a meal fit for the Valar.”
“Hardly that, tôren,” the eldest prince retorted gruffly, though he was unable to hide his pleasure at the praise. “I could not allow the gwanûn to leave us unheralded, after they provided such valorous service.” Catching sight of the mischievous twinkle in Elrohir’s eyes, he quickly added, “To the realm. Valorous service to the realm.”
“Do not mind ‘Roh, mellonen,” Elladan said, casting a chiding glance at his twin. “He oft forgets himself. Or too seldom forgets himself, as the case may be.”
Sleeping alone tonight, are you ‘Dan?
I think not, tôr dithen.
“Mind your manners, or leave the table,” Barangolas broke in, his emerald eyes dancing. “’Tis impolite...”
“...to mindspeak in public,” Elrohir finished with an amused snort. “You begin to sound like Ada, or Glorfindel, ernilen.”
“That is hardly an insult,” the youngest woodland prince retorted with a grin. “I have been compared to less flattering characters than the Balrog-slayer and the Lord of Imladris.”
Galueth had remained silent, happy to merely observe the teasing banter between her brothers and the twins from the security of her seat on Elladan’s knee, but she was forced to speech by the mention of her beloved ancient friend. “You are not like ‘Del, Bar’las,” she announced disparagingly. “’Del is big, and brave, and pretty, and perfect.”
Frowning at the burst of laughter which met her statement, the princess turned to her current champion with narrowed eyes. “Do you not think ‘Del is perfect, El’dan?”
“Absolutely perfect, pen dithen,” the elder twin agreed, giving the pouting elfling a squeeze. “Though Barangolas is certainly brave, too, is he not?”
“Aye, he is very brave,” Galueth replied generously. “But he is not as big, nor as pretty as ‘Del. And he is not perfect.”
“A fair evaluation,” the youngest prince conceded, chuckling. “But ‘tis your bedtime, pen neth. Amoniel is waiting. You must rise early in the morn if you wish to see the gwanûn off on their journey.”
The princess surrendered her hold on Elladan with obvious reluctance, but moved obediently to hug each of her brothers in turn.
“I will join you shortly, and we will have a story,” Anteruon promised, winning a smile from the solemn elfling.
Coming to stand beside Elrohir, Galueth’s gaze glistened. “Posto mae, El’hir,” she said, embracing him tightly. “You and El’dan will not leave without saying ‘Navaer’, will you?”
“We would not dream of doing so,” the elf-knight assured her, dropping a kiss on the intricate mahogany braids. “Posto mae, hirilen.”
Watching Galueth leave the pavilion, Legolas sighed heavily. “’Twill be more hearts than mine torn by your going, I fear.”
“’Tis time we were back to the valley, though,” Elladan said soberly. “As it is, we will be hard pressed to arrive before the harvest ends.”
“And ‘tis high time Ada returned to the Halls, as well,” Anteruon interjected with a grin, breaking the somber spell that had fallen over the gathered elves. “There is much annoyance and scarce joy in this business of being king.”
“Mayhap,” Legolas teased, “but Amoniel seems to like you in rulers-rags. You have spent precious little time in your own chambers these last weeks, tôren.”
“Aye,” the eldest prince admitted good-naturedly, “I will grant you that the nights bring some compensation for days spent in council.”
“And for days spent on the training field,” Legolas said impishly, pushing back his chair. “I believe ‘tis time we were leaving the table and seeking our chambers.”
“Though not necessarily our rest, hmm, tôr einior?” Barangolas retorted, smirking as Anteruon rose from his seat at the head of the table, signaling the meal ended.
**************************************
‘Adan...
Elladan stopped, glancing sharply at his twin as the faint echo sounded.
‘Adan...
Elrohir turned to look back at his brother, a slight frown creasing his brow. “’Dan? Are you well?”
“Aye,” Elladan answered slowly, his eyes scanning the darkened garden. “I thought I heard someone call.”
“’Twas likely some partygoer leaving the pavilion,” Legolas suggested, his smile fading when the elder twin did not agree.
“Someone called my name.”
‘Adan...
Elladan’s eyes widened in sudden comprehension. “’Adan? ‘Tis Ada!” Reaching urgently for Elrohir’s hand, he bowed his head in concentration. “Help me, tôren.”
The younger twin clasped the offered hand, opening his mind fully that he might share and strengthen his brother’s thoughts. Immediately he heard the familiar voice, louder now in the stream of their joined consciousness.
‘Adan?
A pause.
‘Rohir?
I am here, Ada. We are here.
Valar be praised. Are you both well?
We are, híren.
And Legolas? He is unscathed?
He is, aye.
‘Adan? What is amiss?
We have lost a warrior to the Halls of Waiting, Ada. One known as Berioron. Will you tell King Thranduil?
I will, ionen.
Ada?
Aye, ‘Rohir?
Is all well in the valley? With Glorfindel and...and the others?
It is, indeed, pen neth. Will you leave the Wood as planned?
Aye. Tomorrow with the dawn, híren.
I will see you within a fortnight, then. Melin chen, ‘Adan, ‘Rohir. Elbereth’s protection to you, yn nín.
Melim chen, Ada.
The woodland prince watched in awe as the connection first drew his companions in, blinding them to the physical world, then released them slowly, leaving the twins blinking owlishly at the gardens of Taur-na-Fuin.
“Is Ada well?” Legolas asked anxiously. “Is something amiss?”
“Peace, anor nín,” Elladan answered, slipping a comforting arm around the prince’s shoulders. “All is well. Ada merely wished to reassure himself. And the king, I wager.”
“And there will be more tales to tell than ours when your adar arrives home, ‘Las,” Elrohir said with a grin, drawing a snicker from Legolas.
“Indeed,” Elladan agreed, his eyes darkening as they swept over his brother and their prince. “But just now, I find myself yearning for our bed.”
TBC...Elvish Translations:
Taur-na-Fuin – Mirkwood (literally ‘wood of nightshade’)
mellonen – my friend
gwanûn – twins
Ivanneth – September
Ered Mithrin – Grey Mountains
tôren – my brother
tôr dithen – little brother
ernilen – my prince
Adar, Ada – Father, Papa/Dad
pen dithen – little one
pen neth – young one
Posto mae – Sleep well
hirilen – my lady
gwador – brother (sworn - not by blood)
tôr einior – elder brother
ionen – my son
yn nín – my sons
Melim chen – We love you
anor nín – my sun- You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
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