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Princes Three: Darkness Unforeseen	By : nuwing Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 8756 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Only the quirks and perversions are mine. Everything else belongs to the creator-god of Middle-earth, J.R.R. Tolkien. I am awed by his gifts and humbled by his vision. No profit made or sought.

Chapter List
- 18
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- 20
Chapter 15
Elrohir settled into a comfortable chair, gratefully accepting the glass of wine that Anteruon offered. Though he was loath to admit the fact, the combination of constant questing and feuding lovers had left Elrohir drained, physically and emotionally, and he sighed with guilt-tinged relief as he sipped at his drink, savoring both the wine and the soothing company.
�You must rest, �Rohir,� Galueth chided, putting way her book to look the elf-knight over critically. �Your exhaustion aids no one.�
Elrohir smiled, but did not reply immediately, using the excuse of another sip of wine to study Galueth in turn. The loving but headstrong elfling and awkward adolescent of memory were no more, in their place an elf-maid whose bright mahogany hair and startling blue eyes were so like her mother�s that Elrohir instinctively knew it must sometimes pain Thranduil to look on her. Galueth had been little more than a babe when the twins had come into her life, and she alone of Legolas� siblings had adopted the shortened forms of their names that served the family, �El�hir� and �El�dan� giving way to ��Rohir� and ��Adan� as easily as if she had been born in the Last Homely House. Now she was just past majority and possessed of a high-spirited, unaffected beauty that was surely mesmerizing to those so inclined.
Elrohir wished her brothers well in their doomed struggle to keep her locked in a figurative tower. The years immediately following Arwen�s coming of age did not bear remembering.
�I am well, young one,� he said at last, swirling his wine idly. �But look at you! I feel my age keenly just now,� Elrohir paused to wink at Anteruon, �and I must say I envy your suitors more than your kinsmen, my Lady.�
�It is a pity, then, is it not, that you so early threw your lot in with my brother?� Galueth replied cheekily, proving that while the years had done many things, they had not tamed her forward tongue.
�Galueth!�
Anteruon�s horrified rebuke was drowned by a burst of explosive laughter from Elrohir. �Leave her be, gwador,� the elf-knight said, still chuckling. �I deserved it, no doubt, and I wager such quick wit will discourage all but the most determined swains.�
Shaking his head in tolerant exasperation, Anteruon could not help but smile. �That is likely true. It does not require a peredhel�s foresight to glimpse a long and thorny path before any elf daft enough to take on that chase.� He snorted at Galueth�s look of mock affront, then sobered suddenly, turning back to Elrohir. �I am worried for your father,� Anteruon began cautiously. �He seems hale enough in body, yet...�
�Yet his eyes are empty,� Elrohir broke in, all mirth gone from his face, as well. �He seems a sleepwalker, as though he does not live, but merely goes through life�s motions.�
Galueth nodded. �He needs you, �Rohir,� she said gently, and though there was no hint of accusation in her tone, Elrohir swallowed guiltily.

�Both you and Elladan,� Anteruon added, pouring another splash of wine into Elrohir�s glass. �He cannot abide the sight of Arwen�s sorrow and, though she would stay at his side, I believe he did well to send her to Galadriel. Elrond�s own grief is choking his spirit. He has not the strength to help bear your sister�s pain.�
�Then what use has he for us?� Elrohir demanded hopelessly. �Elladan is mired in his own anguish, and I am little better. I have task enough in keeping �Dan from your brother�s throat, and Legolas from his.� He turned his head to stare unseeingly toward the arches and the gardens beyond. �I begin to fear that there is naught left for us, save to slaughter in the name of vengeance.�
�Now you speak nonsense,� Anteruon rebuked sternly. �Did you not jest with me a moment ago? Did you not tease Galueth as she so richly deserves?� Ignoring his sister�s spirited protest, he said, �Do not disregard the importance of such small gifts. You will never forget your grief, my friend. Mine is with me still, though Nana passed nearly half a millennium ago. But time will give you back joy in things other than killing and revenge.�
Elrohir flushed to the very roots of his hair, stricken by his own thoughtlessness. He had all but forgotten that Anteruon�s mother was lost, not to Valinor but to death, her life ended by the savagery of the same vile creatures that had waylaid Celebr�an. His own chastisement of Legolas suddenly seemed cruel beyond bearing, and Elrohir buried his face in his hands. �I am truly witless,� he mumbled, drawing a deep breath before raising his head to meet his friend�s sympathetic eyes. �Forgive me, Anteruon...Galueth,� he said earnestly. �I never intended to judge your loss less than my own.�
�We know that well,� Galueth said kindly, reaching out to squeeze the elf-knight�s arm. �Your pain is yet raw, and ours is salved by the passage of centuries.� Her voice was tinged with regret. �I must admit that I have little memory of Nana, save the lilt of sweet singing and faint glimpses of a gentle smile. But they say I am very like her.�
�You are, indeed,� Elrohir agreed. �I first met her when I was but an awkward youngling. I was fascinated by her hair.� He reached out and tugged at one of Galueth�s tiny braids. �I had never seen such plaiting, or tresses of such a color.�
Anteruon smiled slightly, remembering, perhaps, and Elrohir turned to him with a sigh. �It is a wonder �Las does not leave us to drown in our own idiocy,� the elf-knight said woefully. The arch of one golden eyebrow bid him continue. �I have chided Legolas for lack of empathy, when he likely does understand, all too well, the source of Elladan�s guilt and anger.�
�Do not rebuke yourself so soundly,� Anteruon soothed. �I know my brother, and he likely brought every word on himself with his quick temper and even quicker tongue.� He looked at Elrohir appraisingly. �And your brother has more need of a fellow healer than a lover, I deem. Will you trust Elladan�s mood to me, gwador?�
Elrohir bit his lip uncertainly, frustration over his inability to ease his twin�s pain warring with a whisper of half-remembered voices from the past.
Anteruon...Imladris...family chambers...raven-haired elf...
�Elrohir?�
Elrohir met Anteruon�s concerned gaze, forcing a smile to his own face. �Aye,� he said slowly. �I will trust you.�
***************
Elrond stood at the balustrade, looking out over the walled garden that had been Celebr�an�s proudest achievement, but his thoughts were, in truth, far away. The fury and anguished grief that had followed his wife�s abduction, the sharp sorrow that had beset him when she sailed barely a year later...even these emotions had left him now, and he felt nothing so much as forsaken and alone.
The aching emptiness left by Elros� choice, the hollow that Elrond had tried so desperately to fill - first with Ereinion�s heart and body, then again with the love and companionship Celebr�an offered - seemed to devour his spirit, leaving little behind except the facade of serene ruler and accomplished healer.

There was a sound of soft footsteps in the courtyard and Elrond glanced over to see Elrohir and Anteruon deep in conversation, their heads bent close as they moved off toward the hillside garden that had long been a favorite of the guests from Mirkwood. The elf-knight looked up, as though sensing his father�s gaze, and waved in greeting, and Elrond returned the gesture automatically before his thoughts turned inward once more.
Darkness came swiftly and E�rendil rose bright and clear, the far away twinkle at once soothing and heart-wrenching, a reminder of yet more loss and pain. Elrond closed his eyes, turning his face up to the stars. �I cannot go on, Papa,� he whispered tiredly. �Not like this.�
The light warmed, softened, bathing the elf below in a gentle glow. Images of his earliest years came unbidden and Elrond let himself be drawn into the past, became again one of two, half a bright-eyed pair of mischievous imps. The horrific scenes he instinctively steeled himself against did not appear, the warm memories of his very earliest years mercifully blurring into a time of lengthening limbs, fierce blushes and a shared first kiss, unskilled and awkward but filled with the promise of fire to come.
In his brother�s mind, Elros lived again, a whirlwind of impulse and exuberant energy beside Elrond�s studied calm. Tentative touches gave way to the warmth of a soul rejoined, and for the first time since his twin�s death, Elrond did not have the will to push away the memories. He wrapped himself in them, instead, allowing the love and affection of the long-dead to ease the absence of the recently departed.
After all, an embrace remembered offered more comfort than the empty chamber that awaited him.
At first, the murmurs and moans wove themselves into his memories and Elrond let the faint sounds wash over him, torn between a vague, bittersweet arousal and a niggling sense of guilt, that he could yet be so affected by thoughts of Elros. Then he was brought abruptly back to the lonely balcony by an erotically muffled chuckle and an affectionate taunt, the passion-roughened voice nearly right but the words all wrong.
�You are pulling my hair, wood-elf.�
And another voice, thick with pleasure despite the tone of mock severity.
�And you are trying my patience, peredhel. Finish it.�
Elladan and Legolas.
Elrond stepped back from the balustrade as if scalded, aghast at the realization that he had been eavesdropping, however unintentionally, on his son. Self-loathing rose in his chest, hot and thick, even as he fought the urge to return to his fantasy, to lose himself again in the memory of Elros. As though against his will, his eyes were drawn to the balcony next door, where two wavering figures danced, cast in shadow on the smooth stone by the flickering light within the chamber, the furs and pillows on which they lay a solid, darker shape beneath the gently blurred image of entangled bodies. A breathless cry echoed through the still air and one figure arched upward to blanket the other, the moist, clinging sound of desperate kisses giving way to a pained hiss and soothing whispers. There was the unmistakable slap of skin on skin, slow, languid at first, then moving faster, harder, soft pleas and curses swelling in volume and intensity until at last a hoarse demand rose above the cacophony.
Touch me
A sharp oath marked the demand met and the shadowy figures bucked and writhed together, frantic gasps at last culminating in a keening wail that was swallowed a heartbeat later by a harsh moan, and the shadows collapsed, disappearing into the deeper black of their makeshift bed. Whispers and affectionate murmurs replaced the growls and whimpers that had colored the moments before, then a well-sated chuckle followed the groaning shift of well-used bodies and, at last, the awaited words were mumbled sleepily, two voices blending indistinctly into a warm blur of contentment.
I love you
His face wet with tears sprung from an ache he would not acknowledge, horrified at what he had done, Elrond turned and stumbled into his darkened chamber.
*~*~*~*~*

gwador - sworn brother
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Princes Three: Darkness Unforeseen