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Greenleaf & Imladris 22-Bereth:To Have and To Hold	By : MPB Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 3387 -:- 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 XIV: Receptions

They reached the foothills of the mountains in time to meet the force of Elven warriors Thranduil had mustered to go after them. The Elvenking himself led the contingent. So relieved was he to find them alive and fairly well that he enveloped each in a hearty, heartfelt hug, even an entertainingly flustered Gimli. The most caustic of scoldings followed, however, when he learned a bit of what they had done.

“I feel as if I’ve aged another five centuries!” he exclaimed after the telling. “What were you thinking, taking on the enemy by yourselves?!”

Legolas flushed a deep red. Feeling like an adolescent again caught in mischief, he said: “Forgive us, Ada. But we feared the worst and sought to prevent it from happening.”

Thranduil all but rolled his eyes in exasperation. “And I thought you had more sense than to try something as foolhardy as that!”

Legolas and even Gimli looked properly abashed but, amazingly, the twins did not.

“As Legolas said, forgive us, Adar, for troubling you so,” Elladan said. “But in truth, we did what we deemed best.”

Elrohir added: “When we laid eyes on Maeglin’s hold, we still had the choice to retreat or attack. When we assessed his strength, we knew we could best him.”

Thranduil stared at his law-sons in patent disbelief. “You thought you could take on an entire garrison of orcs?” he gasped.

Both shrugged. “‘Tis hardly more difficult than taking on a whole tribe of battle-trained goblins,” Elladan said.

Legolas started then gazed at Elrohir, frowning slightly. “I accused you of that very charge yet you denied it,” he remarked a little sourly.

Elrohir shook his head. “I did not deny it,” he pointed out. “I said we never took on more than we knew we could handle.”

What Legolas thought of such guileful dissimulation he chose not to voice though his eyes glittered perilously. Thranduil, on the other, after being struck dumb, found his tongue. “You think highly of your abilities, gwenyn”—twins—he commented.

Elrohir smiled grimly. “We spent five hundred years in the wilds doing just this, Adar”—Father—he softly said.

At that, Gimli growled. “Oh, my sainted aunt! I should have known you two would indulge in some hare-brained schemes along the way!”

“I do not recall you protesting overmuch, Master Dwarf,” Elladan reminded him. “Does that mean you are as inclined to hare-brained schemes as we are?”

He grinned as the Dwarf let loose a string of jaw-cracking curses. Thank Eru only he and Elrohir truly understood Dwarvish else he could only imagine the complexions Thranduil and Legolas would have taken on.

The Elvenking let out a resigned sigh. “Valinor is beginning to look more and more attractive to me,” he declared at length. “Ai, tell me what you will as we go. I confess I am anxious to hear the full tale.”

By the time the Elven force reached the delved palace, Thranduil was no longer so anxious as astounded, fascinated and downright infuriated, the last not so much with their now fallen foe but with the four who had brought about his fall. If they had thought his earlier admonitions stinging enough, they soon learned the true meaning of a royal dressing-down. Legolas and Gimli were seen to wince at some particular choice bits and even the twins were hard-pressed to maintain their dignified miens in the face of such severity. Therefore it was with great relief that they came to the palace for the king calmed down at last and ceased to bombard their eardrums with scathing reprimands.

Elladan’s first order of business was to seek his wife. But even as they started for the residential pavilion, they were met by an Elf-woman newly come from the healing halls.

“Majesty!” she hailed Thranduil. “I was sent to inform you. Your daughter is in labor and—” Elladan was off like a shot ere she finished her sentence. “—they wish to know if Lord Elladan desires to be with her.”

Elrohir shook his head. “He will fall apart,” he said. “‘Tis one thing to deliver the babes of others, another to welcome his own into the world.”

He hurried after Elladan. That left Gimli and Legolas staring after him. Thranduil let out a loud sigh. “I only pray this child will not take after its father overmuch!” he wryly said.

They followed the twins to the healing halls.

Elrohir’s assessment of his brother’s state of mind proved mirthfully accurate. He drove everyone to distraction with his anxious blundering and ill-founded concerns. Indeed, it seemed he’d forgotten everything he’d ever learned about the birthing of Elflings. Nimeithel was more collected than he was even while caught in the strains of labor. Though she lovingly welcomed him back with the most tender of kisses, she soon begged Elrohir to take her husband in hand. Taking pity on the beleaguered healers and midwives, the Elf-knight grabbed his twin and hauled him bodily out of the birthing chamber.

There, while an amused Elvenking, woodland prince and Dwarf-lord looked on, he exhorted Elladan to get a hold of himself.

“You must becalm yourself, gwaniuar”—older twin—“if you wish to be by her side,” he advised his quaking brother. “By Elbereth, you are a hallowed warrior, accustomed to blood and pain. Do not shame yourself now, brother!”

Elladan caught himself at that. Taking a moment to recover his equanimity, he nodded at Elrohir then re-entered the chamber with his brother. When Elrohir returned without him, the others assumed he had stopped being a nuisance to his wife and the healers.

“You have a gift for understatement, gwanneth”—younger twin— Thranduil remarked facetiously. “He did not merely fall apart, he nigh crumbled to pieces.”

Elrohir chuckled. “It is ever thus with the fathers we have seen through the years. The more valorous they are in battle, the more certain it is that they will all but collapse should they witness their wives in labor!”

“Then you should be grateful that you won’t have that problem!” Gimli snickered.

“Aye, that is one benefit of binding to another ellon”—male Elf—Elrohir smiled. He glanced at Legolas who in turn was looking at him rather wistfully.

He wondered at his mercurial mate’s odd mood and was about to question him about it when Elladan poked his head out of the birthing chamber and said with a mysterious grin: “Elrohir, would you please join me for a moment?”

Looking at his twin curiously, the Elf-knight did as he was bid. A few minutes later, a piercing wail rent the stillness of the halls, startling the three who waited outside. It went on for while, doubling in volume along the way.

“That is one lusty babe,” Gimli remarked admiringly. “What lungs he must have!”

“It may be a maid-child,” Legolas said.

“With a voice like that?” the Dwarf snorted. “I pity the Elf-maid who possesses such a bawl!”

Finally the wailing ended and they waited again, this time a little impatiently. They glanced up when Elrohir came out. Bearing a tiny bundle in his arms. They all surged forward excitedly.

The twin gently pushed back the swaddling and they looked upon the first child born of the union between Imladris and Greenwood.

“A son?” Legolas queried, noting the small but strong hands that clutched hardily at the enclosing mantle.

“Aye,” Elrohir replied softly. “As is the other.”

The three stared at him in mute stupefaction.

“The other?” Thranduil repeated faintly.

The three caught their breaths as another loud wail assailed their ears. They looked at Elrohir in stunned disbelief. None could speak from the shock.

“Twins?” Legolas finally all but croaked when the cries ceased.

“Twins,” Elladan confirmed as he came out of the chamber cradling another wee bundle in his arms.

There was a concerted gasp. “Twins born of a twin?” Gimli spluttered.

“Who himself was born of a twin,” Thranduil finished for him, awe limning his voice. “Will wonders never cease?” He looked at Elladan. His older law-son was incandescent with joy. The usually wintry eyes warmed with affection. “Elrond would have been so proud,” the king told him. “You will bring him and your mother an immeasurable gift when you pass West, gwaniuar.”

Elladan’s answering smile was more than beautiful. It was heart stopping. He was the picture of fatherly pride, tenderness and protectiveness. He looked upon his sons with unabashed love, blessing the crown of the babe in his brother’s arms with a kiss before pressing his lips to the cheek of the infant he held.

“Have you named them?” Thranduil inquired, gazing besottedly at his newest grandchildren.

Elladan nodded. “That one is Elendir,” he said with a wide smile for his firstborn. “And this one,” he continued, handing the younger into his delighted law-father’s arms, “is Elros.”

“Elros!” Legolas softly exclaimed. “That will most definitely please your father.”

The twins grinned even more happily. Looking at them and at the infants, one who was not well acquainted with either would have been hard-put to decide which of them was the father. Elrohir looked as doting as Elladan, Legolas thought musingly. Well, if his past record with his king-brother and royal nephew of Gondor was any indication, he did not doubt that these newborns would one day come to adore their Uncle Elf-knight as well.

It was while he was gazing at tiny Elendir that a wave of envy came over him. He chided himself, thinking how absurd it was that he should be envious of a babe just because it was presently being cuddled by Elrohir. But then, there had been woefully little tenderness between himself and the younger twin for quite some time now.

His sudden pensiveness was not missed by his mate. Or his father.

Elrohir regarded him a moment with searching eyes before hearkening to his brother’s request that they bring the infants back to Nimeithel. Legolas stared at his spouse as he returned to the birthing chamber with Elladan and the babies.

Gimli heaved a happy sigh. “Ah, that was a splendid welcome indeed!” he grinned. He glanced at Legolas. “But now, if you don’t mind, I would very much like to take a long hot bath and then get a decent meal.”

“By all means, Gimli,” the prince smiled wanly. “Take your ease. I will see you later at dinner.”

He watched his friend saunter away. Turning back, he found his father looking at him keenly.

“Ada?”—Papa?—he said wonderingly.

“Legolas, come with me,” Thranduil said. “I would have a word with you.”

He led the way to his study. Firmly shutting the door behind them the Elvenking turned to study his youngest son. Legolas seemed suddenly ill at ease; he had walked to one of the windows and was absently picking at the curtain framing it. Thranduil frowned with concern.

“Ion?”—Son? “Do you regret your binding to Elrohir?” he queried.

Legolas turned his head sharply and stared at him. “Of course not! What made you think that, Ada?”

Thranduil shrugged. “I only wondered. In truth, I had wanted to talk with you ere you left for the mountains.”

“About what?” It was said casually enough but Thranduil noted that his son could not quite meet his gaze.

“There is a...rift between the two of you that I have never felt in all your millennia of friendship,” he replied. “I thought that perhaps you had come to rue committing yourself to so permanent a relationship.”

“Nay, I do not regret it in the least,” Legolas said. He hesitated then said in a low, despondent voice. “Though mayhap Elrohir does despite his claims to the contrary.”

Thranduil raised an eyebrow. So, his son had finally realized the depth of his previous folly. “And why do you say that?”

Legolas bit his lower lip then sighed unhappily. “I made mistakes,” he whispered. “More mistakes than he can endure.”

“Irreparable ones?” Thranduil pressed, wondering at the extent of the damage done to their bond.

The prince swallowed painfully. “I – I pray not.” He turned away, his hands reaching out to grasp fistfuls of drapery. Thranduil worriedly noted the whitened knuckles on his clenched hands. Legolas let go of the curtains and turned back to his father. “I am so afraid, Ada. He – he might – leave me because of this.”

The king shook his head. “He waited centuries to make you his. I cannot imagine that he would forsake you now that he owns your hard-won love.”

“But what if he no longer thinks it worth his forbearance?” Legolas said, his voice harsh with anguish. “What then? Ada, if he leaves me, I will not— Ai, even the thought terrifies me!”

Thranduil swiftly crossed the chamber to take his shaking son into his arms. “He will not leave you, Legolas! ‘Twas for love of you that he chose eternity over the Gift of Men. You were ever his reason for holding to life, to living.”

“But I have proven myself unworthy of his regard,” Legolas near moaned. “I – I fear I have sullied myself in his eyes beyond redemption.” He clutched at his father anxiously. “The worst of it is that I do not know why I did any of it. All I know is that I have hurt him grievously. He – he said it himself. He can no longer tolerate my transgressions against him.”

Thranduil stroked his son’s fair hair soothingly. “Have you ever talked about this matter before?” he gently inquired.

Legolas shook his head. “He tried,” he admitted. “But I would always show my displeasure that he – he...”

“Gave up trying to broach it,” the king finished for him.

“Aye,” the prince said shamefacedly.

Thranduil sighed. “You should have let Elrohir have his say early on. It might have saved both of you much grief.” He drew away and looked at his crestfallen son. “But if I have read him right, your Elf-knight will not give you up without a fight, ion. ‘Tis not his nature to surrender so quickly or easily.”

Legolas raised apprehensive eyes to his sire. “He told me we needed to talk,” he confided.

“Indeed, you do,” Thranduil agreed. “Go to him, Legolas. And this time, do not hide your doubts or fears. If you truly love him, if you treasure your bond, you will do this without further delay.”

Legolas drew a tremulous breath then nodded. Silently, he slipped out of his father’s embrace and left the study. Thranduil watched him go, worry etched in his countenance. A silent entreaty winged its way to the Powers as the Elvenking prayed for his youngest son’s victory in this, a battle no less daunting than any he had ever faced before.

To be continued…
- 14
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- 16
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Greenleaf & Imladris 22-Bereth:To Have and To Hold