Princes Three: In the Shadows of Mirkwood | By : nuwing Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 4141 -:- 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. |
Interlude III: More Conversations with the King
Legolas was in an extraordinarily good humor as he quickly braided his hair into a single silken rope of pale gold. He had returned from a very successful three-day scouting patrol shortly before midday to find Elrohir looking nearly himself again.
Originally disheartened by the fact that Elrohir- and thus Elladan, for the younger twin needed his brother’s proximity to regain his strength- could not accompany him on the mission, the archer was delighted by the progress his lover had made during his absence.
The elf-knight insisted he was fully recovered, and the three princes had spent an enjoyable afternoon discovering that he was not, mayhap, completely healed, but well on his way to perfect health. The woodland prince smiled, glancing toward the rumpled bed he had but recently left.
His twins lay curled around one another like sleepy cubs, having instinctively moved together once Legolas slipped from the tangle of limbs to dress. As reluctant as the prince was to go, he was expected to deliver a report of the patrol’s activities and findings to the king as soon as practicable…and he had already stretched the allotted time quite thin.
Sparing a last glance at the snuggling elves, Legolas broke into a devilish grin. ‘‘Roh in the middle, hmm? I shall have to speak with ‘Dan…’
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Glorfindel lounged comfortably on the overstuffed divan, his long legs folded comfortably on the seat. "Are you still reading the proposed trade agreement, híren ?", he asked teasingly. "’Twould seem that being a king is quite dull."
Thranduil looked up from the lengthy missive in his hands and smiled ruefully. "Agonizingly dull at times, mellonen," he replied. Emerald eyes twinkling, he added, "’Twill not be dull for long if I fail to complete this agreement, though. My people would sooner lose their king than their reliable supply of Dorwinion wine."
"I think not, Thranduil," the balrog-slayer said seriously. "You are the heart of Taur-na-Fuin, meldir. ‘Tis love of you, and yours, that holds the realm together, and makes her strong."
"Such sweet words from a warrior!", the king returned with a smile. "Hannon chen, Glorfindel. Though I would place my trust rather in the bows of Taur-na-Fuin’s archers."
"Aye, they are a strength beyond their number," the ancient elf agreed. "Seldom have I seen such skill as Legolas displays, and he little more than a millennia in years."
"He is already the best Taur-na-Fuin has to offer," Thranduil beamed proudly. "He outstripped his tutors long ago."
"And all the archers of Imladris, also," Glorfindel admitted wryly. "I would like very much to have him instruct my bowmen someday, if he can be spared for a season. The sword is my weapon, and none of my archery masters approach his talent."
"I have no doubt we can arrange a training visit," the king chuckled. "Legolas would not be reluctant to spend a season in Imladris, I wager." Signing the new trade agreement with a flourish, Thranduil dusted the ink carefully, then rose from his chair with a sigh. "Enough work for the moment. Will you join me in a glass of the wine responsible for such a wordy treaty, mellonen?"
"I will, indeed," Glorfindel answered with a smile. Watching as the king poured two goblets of the deep red spirit, he held out a hand, swinging his legs to the floor. "Come sit with me, Thranduil, and relax for a time. Your kingdom will manage for a brief period, surely."
The woodland ruler hesitated briefly, his gaze caught and held by glowing sapphire eyes. "I will not bite you, híren ," the balrog-slayer chided gently, accepting a glass of wine.
Thranduil looked soberly at Glorfindel for a long moment before replying. "Mayhap you should." Sitting down beside his friend, the king drew a deep breath before taking a sip of wine.
The balrog-slayer leveled a piercing stare at his companion. "Why do you resist, Thranduil? Do you not remember our time together with fondness? Do I no longer warrant your affection?"
Smiling slightly, the king replied, "I remember it with great fondness, híren, and my feelings for you have not changed. I treasured every moment with you. I still do. But…"
"You are frightened." It was a statement, not a question.
"I am," Thranduil admitted. "It has been many years since any emotion save lust was shared in my bed, Glorfindel. I find myself weary of the games, yearning for real affection from a lover, yet unwilling to risk losing a friend. I am bound, and my soul still longs for my queen. But my heart…". His voice dropping, the proud king looked forlorn as an elfling bereft of family. "My heart longs for love, mellonen...from one other than my children, I fear."
"Then accept the love that is offered you," Glorfindel implored softly. "Do you doubt that I care for you, pen vain?" As Thranduil silently shook his head, the balrog-slayer continued, "Erestor and I had a third many years ago, and he fell. I was also part of a triad in my first life. This is not new to us, and we both desire you, híren . Your bond holds you to your queen, and that is as it should be, but will you not accept what you can?"
Reaching impulsively for his companion’s hand, the ancient elf asked pleadingly, "‘Tis no betrayal, Thranduil. Not of your bond, and not of us. I ask for nothing you can not freely give. Will you not share in our love and care?"
The woodland king interlaced his fingers with his friend’s, then raised his eyes to meet Glorfindel’s gaze squarely. "Aye, mellonen," he answered quietly, moving toward the glowing sapphire eyes. "I will."
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Legolas stopped dead in astonishment at the sight which met him in the courtyard. A legging-and-tunic clad Elrond sat casually on the ledge of a fountain, trailing his fingers idly through the water as he smiled and talked with his companion. And his companion was Anteruon.
The Imladrian lord glanced up expectantly, sensing the archer’s awed stare. "Good afternoon, Legolas," Elrond said pleasantly. "Were you able to rest?"
"I was indeed, híren ," the prince lied with a quick smile. ‘And I did not even blush,’ he thought with satisfaction. ‘I am improving.’
"Will you join us, tôren ?", the crown prince asked from his seat on the cobblestones, where he seemed to have his hands full of…aye, dried leaves. "Lord Elrond is teaching me of some new healing herbs that are not used in Taur-na-Fuin."
Holding out a particularly fragrant leaf for his brother’s inspection, Anteruon explained, "This one is for prolonged fever, such as Elrohir suffered."
His eyes wide still wide with amazement at the seemingly easy rapport between the peredhel lord and the crown prince, Legolas handed the leaf back with a shake of his head. "I would enjoy the company, tôren,…Lord Elrond, but I must make my report to Ada."
"He is in the study," Anteruon said with a grin. "But I doubt he is too busy. He was working on the Dorwinion import agreement, and Glorfindel joined him a short while ago. They are more likely drinking the wine than arranging its purchase, I wager."
The second-born prince snickered in agreement. "Aye, that contract usually results in wine consumption in the study." Turning to Elrond, he explained, "‘Tis unusually long, and becomes more complicated every year. Ada drank half a case before the last renewal was signed."
"Then they will no doubt welcome the interruption," the Imladrian lord chuckled. "’Twill likely save them both from a ferocious hangover."
******************************************
Legolas’ first thought on opening the study door was that Elrond had been seriously mistaken. The interruption was not at all welcome.
His second thought was a brief prayer of thanks to the Valar that he had given his usual cursory knock before entering.
His third thought was that he was very, very glad he had not delayed another quarter-hour.
‘Twas the first thought he chose to verbalize, as he tried to back gracefully out of the room. "Forgive me, Ada…híren …I will return later…"
"Nay, Legolas, come in," Thranduil said with only a hint of discomfort as he rearranged his partially open robe. "’Tis about your patrol you have come, I assume?"
"Aye," the archer managed, tearing his eyes from Glorfindel’s bared chest with difficulty. "But ‘tis nothing of major importance, and I can…".
"I will leave you to your report, then, mellonen," the balrog-slayer broke in, his sapphire-blue eyes twinkling. "We will have much time for our discussion later, hmm?"
Thranduil’s emerald gaze sparkled, a most inappropriate grin threatening. "We will indeed, híren . I will call on you ere dinner, if that is acceptable?"
"Most acceptable," Glorfindel all but purred, pulling on his tunic. "I shall look forward to it." Turning to Legolas, he smiled kindly. "’Tis good that you are home safe, ernilen. I will see you at dinner, hmm?"
Nodding mutely, the prince watched Elrond’s seneschal run lightly across the courtyard.
"Close the door, ionen," Thranduil said gently, the smallest hint of amusement in his rich voice.
"What? Oh, I …", Legolas floundered, pushing the door together as directed.
"Your patrol?", the king prodded helpfully, gesturing to a chair near his desk.
The prince sat obediently, then rose again almost immediately. "The patrol was most successful, Ada," he announced smugly, his pride in the elves of his guard momentarily displacing his befuddlement. "The nest of spiders which attacked Anteruon, and Elrohir, is utterly destroyed. We ambushed one small scouting group of orc…none will return to report. We found no sign of new spider nests nor orc enclaves around the Hall…Ada, what exactly was going on when I arrived?"
Thranduil was unable to stifle a snort at the blurted question, and Legolas himself looked somewhat disconcerted that it had been asked. "What appeared to be going on, ionen?", Thranduil returned, his face determinedly sober.
"I…it seemed…I am unable to say," the prince finished hastily, his ears burning.
Thranduil raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Come now, ionen. You have spent this entire afternoon locked in your chambers with Elladan and Elrohir. Surely the activity is not unknown to you?"
Blushing even more furiously, Legolas stuttered helplessly, "Nay, of course not, I mean…Aye, I know what…"
Taking pity on his flustered offspring, Thranduil gently directed the prince to a chair and pushed him into it. Pouring a glass of miruvor, the king handed it silently to his son, who tossed the cordial back with practiced carelessness.
Arching one golden eyebrow in amusement, the woodland ruler chuckled. "You have obviously been drinking with the twins far too long, ionen. ‘Twould burn the back from the throat of most wood-elves to drink the cordial of Imladris in such a manner."
Sitting down near Legolas, Thranduil waited for a moment before speaking again. "I am sorry you found out this way, ionen, though I know not what better way I might have prepared."
His eyes wide, the prince managed, "Glorfindel?"
Smiling slightly, Thranduil answered, "Aye. Glorfindel and I have a long history, ionen. We have been friends for millennia…and he was my last male lover ere I bound with your nana. There is great affection between us."
"But, Erestor…", Legolas began, his brow wrinkled in confusion.
"…Is Glorfindel’s binding mate, just as your naneth is mine, pen neth." Pausing briefly, the king looked intently at his son, trying to judge his reaction to the next bit of information. "Glorfindel, and Erestor, have past experience with triads."
The woodland prince’s eyes grew huge with amazement as he tried vainly to form a coherent sentence. "You…Glorfindel…all…Erestor…"
Attempting to forestall any objections, Thranduil went on, "They have asked that I join them, share in their love and care. ‘Tis no betrayal of your naneth, Legolas, nor of Erestor and Glorfindel’s bond. I love Glorfindel, but it is the affectionate love of one friend for another. I am fond of Erestor. But my eternal love…my soul… belongs to my queen."
Legolas’ face remained nearly expressionless, and the king felt his heart begin to sink. He had counted on the second-born prince to help explain to the others. If even Legolas could not understand, could not accept…Thranduil sighed tiredly. "Still, I grow hungry for affection from a lover, and not simply the lust of casual tumbles, ionen."
Hearing the defeat in his father’s voice, the prince quickly snapped out of his stupor. "Ai, Ada," he began, a slow smile spreading across his face. "I am not disapproving. I was merely lost in memories…we will talk later. After a visit to Imladris, mayhap? I am happy for you, as you were for me. ‘Tis no betrayal to find your pleasure with those who care for you, rather than those who seek only to have you."
Shaking his head ruefully, Legolas said, "I do have one question, though." At Thranduil’s inquisitive look, he queried, "Am I the only elf in Arda who has not bedded Glorfindel?"
Chuckling delightedly, the king replied, "Nay, Legolas, I would wager you are not." His eyes twinkling he went on, "I think it unlikely your brothers have done so, either."
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Elvish Translation:
pen vain: beautiful one
hannon chen: thank you
híren - my lord
mellonen - my friend
meldir - male friend
Taur-na-Fuin - Mirkwood (wood of nightshade)
tôren - my brother
ernilen - my prince
ionen - my son
Ada, Adar - Dad, Father
pen neth - young one
Ai - Oh
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