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Greenleaf & Imladris 14 - Crucible of Love	By : MPB Category: -Multi-Age > General Views: 6739 -:- 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.

Chapter List
- 1-Part 1
- 2-Part 2
- 3-Part 3
- 4-Part 4
- 5-Part 5
- 6-Part 6
- 7-Part 7
- 1
- 2
- 3
Part II

Legolas stared out the window of Lord Elrond’s study, taking in the vista of pine and heather topped slopes, the deceptively lacy waterfall in the far distance and the delicately wrought porches and balconies of the Last Homely House. Six years had passed since he had last walked its halls, climbed the hillsides and sat by its sparkling streams. Six years yet it felt like six hundred.

Valar, I have missed this place. Ever like a second home has it been to me.

“I am glad that you feel that way about Imladris.”

Legolas grinned and turned to face Elrond. “Are my thoughts that transparent, my lord?” he asked.

“Nay, only so heartfelt one could not fail to hear them,” Elrond smiled. “Imladris has sorely missed your presence, too.”

Legolas was warmed. The thought that his absence had been precipitated by a less than cordial conversation with one of Elrond’s sons was forgotten for the moment.

“Thank you, my lord. And I have been looking forward to seeing the child, Estel. Elladan had written that he is strong and high-spirited.”

Elrond glanced at his older son musingly. “Yes, much like my own sons when they were that age. For that matter, much like them until only recently. I sometimes wonder what I have let myself in for by fostering him. If he is anything like his brothers, I shudder to think of what will happen to Imladris.”

“Ada!” Papa!

Legolas laughed at Elladan’s expression. "'Tis very much what my father said when he received your letter.”

“What did Thranduil say?”

“He said that it seemed you did not deem yourself sufficiently tormented since you have taken into your home yet another male child who may very well follow in his brothers’ footsteps. He also said that he would triple his guards the day Estel is old enough to come with the twins on their visits to Mirkwood.”

Elrond chuckled. “I am pleased they are still welcome in your realm,” he said.

Legolas’ smile faded somewhat. “They have ever been welcome,” he murmured. “But if one finds a place not to his liking, no amount of warmth or joy will suffice to give him reason to accept it.”

Elladan looked away, discomfort limning his features. Elrond silently chided himself. He should have been more careful with his words given the circumstances.

“May I see the child?” Legolas suddenly asked to dispel the sudden awkwardness.

“But of course,” Elrond replied before realizing where his acquiescence would lead. He felt some misgiving but he had already agreed and perhaps it would be best to get the matter out of the way. After all, there would be no avoiding it since Legolas would be staying until autumn. “Gwaniaur”—older twin—“will you be so kind?”

The older twin led the way to the sleeping chambers. To Legolas’ surprise he stopped before a familiar door.

“Elladan, are you sure you have the right room?” he asked somewhat doubtfully.

The twin smiled. “Estel insists on staying with him,” he replied by way of explanation. "'Tis a mystery to us why the child likes him so much.”

He opened the door and allowed Legolas to peek in. The prince softly chuckled at the sight that greeted him.

Elrohir lay on his side in his bed, fast asleep. In the curve of his body was a slumbering child, its chubby hands curled around the protective arm that cradled it.

“Do they always sleep thusly?” Legolas asked in a hushed voice.

“Only when Lady Gilraen is away,” Elladan answered. At Legolas’ questioning look, he added: “She has gone for a fortnight to visit with her folk.”

Legolas stared at the child. Silently, he approached the bed. Bending until he was at level with the child’s face, he studied its features curiously. You could pass for an Elf, little one, he thought.

Just then Estel’s eyes flickered open. For a moment, he looked as if he would cry. But then he saw Legolas before him and his whimper was stilled. They looked at each other, one with curiosity, the other with fascination.

“Hello, Estel,” Legolas softly said. Estel’s eyes widened and then the child smiled shyly. Legolas got down on one knee. Elladan quietly closed the door and left.

Legolas glanced at the sleeping twin. They had parted in anger and bitterness; his last memory of the warrior was his hard, unyielding countenance. But in repose, Elrohir looked almost as sweet and innocent as the child he held. And even more comely than Legolas remembered. He felt that familiar twinge within as he regarded the Elf-lord. It never failed to make itself known whenever he allowed himself to consider Elrohir’s beauty and allure. He forced the feeling aside. There was no place for it here when the rift between them yawned wide and deep and seemed so insurmountable.

I cannot believe we allowed our quarrel to drive us apart for so long, he thought sadly.

His eyes returned to the wide-eyed boy. Legolas put out a finger and stroked the child’s smooth cheek. Estel giggled. Legolas grinned as his finger was grasped in a surprisingly strong hand and pulled into a warm, toothy mouth. The prince could not suppress a yelp, however, when tiny but sharp teeth bit down on his finger.

Elrohir stirred, startled by the sound. He opened his eyes and turned his head. A pair of dark blue eyes met his. He blinked. Then he looked down at the child beside him and realized that Estel was holding on to someone’s finger. He came sharply awake as he realized who that someone was.

“Legolas?” he gasped.

“Well met, Elrohir,” Legolas answered with a hint of irony. “Now that you’re awake mayhap you can persuade your little brother to let go of my finger?”

“Estel!” Elrohir sat up and set to work prying the prince’s finger from the child’s grasp. His cheeks had reddened considerably much to Legolas’ amusement. “Have you been waiting here long?” he mumbled.

“Not too long. I would have gone had Estel not decided to keep me captive.”

“Oh.” Elrohir found it difficult to look at his friend. When Estel yawned and lay down on the bed again, he found refuge in tucking him in. “Well, he is an inquisitive boy. I imagine he will accomplish great things when he grows to manhood.”

“He need not wait that long to do so. He has already accomplished one thing.”

Elrohir looked at Legolas in surprise. “What is that?”

“He has softened your heart enough for you to be willing to talk to me again.”

There was no recrimination in the prince’s voice. He merely stated a fact. Nonetheless, Elrohir flushed. It called to mind the reason why they had not communicated with each other in all these years.

If Legolas had been hoping for some response, he was disappointed. With an inward sigh, he rose to his feet. “I am glad to see you are well, mellon nîn,”—my friend—he said. He bent and ruffled Estel’s dark hair. And then he left the room.

Elrohir let his breath out after he left. I did not even welcome him, he thought guiltily.

Legolas had been hurt by his lukewarm demeanor. There had been no mistaking the emotion in the prince’s eyes. Elrohir stiffened. There is nothing new about that. That hurt was there years ago. His resolve wavered somewhat. And I put it there.

********

For Legolas, the days that followed were fraught with a curious mix of tension and contentment. Strange as it may have seemed, despite the gap that marred his relationship with Elrohir, the prince still found a modicum of joy in being close to his friend once more. He may have departed Rivendell in anger and pain over the Elf-knight’s hurtful words but once home in Mirkwood, he’d felt the loss of Elrohir’s affections acutely. Even the scant comfort of missives had been absent these six years and that had wounded Legolas deeply.

He’d also been alarmed by the letters of Elladan pertaining to the younger twin’s increasingly aloof manner. He’d wondered about it, racked his brain trying to discern what might have affected Elrohir so grievously. And he began to hope that it might have had something to do with his friend’s hostility towards him. For if Elrohir’s harshness had been induced by something other than a sudden reversal in his opinion of the Mirkwood prince, then there was still a chance their friendship could be saved. It was a chance Legolas was not about to forego. The reason why he had accepted Lord Elrond’s invitation with all the eagerness of a hawk about to swoop down on its prey.

Estel had no small role in bringing them together frequently enough to please Legolas. A friendly if shy soul, Estel had taken a liking to him as well, discerning with a child’s innocent sagacity that his adored Elf-knight harbored a deep regard for the Sindarin prince whatever his overt actions may imply. And so the little Dúnadan insisted that Legolas join him and Elrohir in just about every activity they indulged in.

Thus, the two found themselves almost always flanking Estel whether at meals or watching Glorfindel’s warriors train or teaching the boy how to swim or ride or wield a bow. Their eyes seldom met for long on these occasions; they spoke even less. Admittedly, this was mainly due to Elrohir’s reluctance to spend more time than was absolutely necessary in the company of the prince. Legolas, on the other hand, had no compunctions about trying to catch his friend’s attention as much as possible. He refused to let Elrohir’s evasiveness dishearten him and stepped up his campaign to restore their closeness even more fervently.

This state of affairs continued for the better part of the prince’s first weeks back in Rivendell. In Legolas’ opinion, it was not much of an improvement over their erstwhile lack of any contact at all but it was infinitely preferable to complete estrangement. If he could but reawaken their former rapport even bit by bit, he was certain he could bridge the chasm that had opened between them and regain the affections of his beloved friend. On this hope alone, he kept the door to reconciliation wide open and steadfastly ignored the younger twin’s attempted rebuffs.

“I cannot believe your patience, gwador”—sworn brother—Elladan remarked one evening as they sat in the Hall of Fire listening to the soothing strains of Lindir’s lute. “Others would have long given up but you persist no matter how much he resists your overtures.”

“Others have not known what I am loath to lose,” Legolas said, turning his rapt gaze on Elrohir.

The younger twin was seated on the thick furs before the great hearth, Estel cradled in his arms. He was gently rocking the sleepy child, coaxing him into the slumber required by his extreme youth. The prince smiled fondly at the sight, thinking how sweet and affectionate the Elf-knight could be when he cared for someone. He sighed. He’d known the twin’s tender attention and now that it was withdrawn, missed it keenly.

As he gazed at Elrohir, the latter raised his head as if sensing his scrutiny though unaware that it was he who regarded him so intensely. Their eyes met across the room. For a moment, Elrohir gazed back at him unguardedly, slow to veil his feelings in his surprise at finding Legolas watching him intently. And then he recollected himself and, flushing, quickly lowered his head once more. He studiously avoided looking in Legolas’ direction after that. But the prince had seen.

He looked at Elladan, elated by what he had gleaned in that unexpected exchange. The older twin, too, had observed his brother’s demeanor and he faintly smiled at Legolas’ obvious pleasure.

“Aye, ‘tis clear that he still lo – cares for you,” Elladan said, quickly catching himself. “But why he pretends otherwise is beyond me.”

“Whatever his reason, I am happy to know that I have not truly lost him,” Legolas beamed happily. “I had so dreaded that possibility these many years, Elladan. Especially since I had no way of finding out what I could have done to bring our quarrel about.”

Elladan studied him thoughtfully. So close and yet so far, he mused in some frustration. But all he said was: “It was none of your doing, ernilen.”—my prince. “It was his purpose to drive you away. Why, I cannot fathom and that is something that troubles me as well. I have always been able to read him enough to at least guess at what he may be thinking or feeling. But now, he hides them so skillfully even from me.”

“And does that pain you?” Legolas quietly asked.

Elladan shook his head. “It would if I thought myself forsaken by my own brother,” he admitted. “But our...connection still flows between us. ‘Tis only that he does not allow more than the vaguest impressions to escape his vigilance.” He stared with some exasperation at his reclusive twin. “He knows I will discover what he strives to conceal should he let his guard down even for a moment. Why he should fear that....” The warrior shook his head in frustration. “Ai, he can be as stubborn as a mule when he chooses to be!”

“Then we are evenly matched,” Legolas chuckled. “Nimeithel oft calls me mule-headed whenever we disagree about something. Naturally, being female, she thinks she has the prerogative to claim she is right nearly all of the time!”

He grinned, seeing how Elladan had turned a faint shade of red at the mention of his sister’s name. “I warrant you are the only ellon”—male Elf—“she would own her better in any debate,” he added teasingly. The older twin’s blush deepened. “My, but you are an interesting color, Elladan. Are you unwell? Should I alert Lord Elrond?”

Elladan mock-scowled at him. “I can hardly wait to see you floundering in the throes of romance, Thranduilion”—son of Thranduil—he growled.

Legolas chuckled. “Then you will wait in vain,” he smugly retorted. “Unlike some Elves I know, I am not so imprudent as to foolishly lose my heart to anyone.”

At once the good humor on Elladan’s countenance vanished and he grimaced at the reminder of his brother’s travails. Legolas noticed the change at once. He frowned.

“What is it?” he queried. “Did I say anything to offend you?”

Elladan glanced at him then shook his head. Useless to rail at the prince for something he was so utterly oblivious of. And unkind considering how hard Legolas was trying to repair the rift between himself and Elrohir. The least Elladan could do was throw his support behind his friend. After all, he thought, a restoration of their friendship now could pave the way to something more profound in the future. There could be no harm in it and much good might yet come of it.

“Elrohir asked me not to tell you but I see no reason why I should keep this from you,” he said to the prince. “We received word from Estel’s kin that a company of Rangers will come to Imladris within the week. They seek a band of Orcs that pillaged several settlements east of Imladris just this spring then fled north towards the Ered Mithrin. The Rangers have evidence that they have issued forth again this summer and desire to waylay them ere they can do more harm. Elrohir and I explored that area but last season. We will go with them and act as their guides.”

Legolas sat up straighter at the implicit invitation. “Then I will join you,” he said. He glanced at Elrohir. “Whether he wills it or not.”

Elladan nodded, satisfied. “Mayhap you shall find the chance to thresh things out between you,” he suggested. “He is always more receptive during such journeying. The perils we face tend to unlock his reticence.”

Legolas smiled gratefully at the older twin.

His attention was drawn once more to Elrohir when the warrior rose, a slumbering Estel in his arms. He watched the twin slowly make his way to the doors of the hall. As Elrohir waited for an Elf to open them for him, he inadvertently looked in Legolas’ direction.

Again, the archer pointedly caught his gaze and almost forcibly held it. Elrohir could not prevent the faint color that washed over his cheeks. He averted his eyes and hastened out of the chamber.

Legolas smiled to himself. Elladan was right. The Elf-knight still held his tender regard for him however stubbornly concealed. If fortune was with him, if the Valar willed it, he would know its inimitable depth and warmth once again and that was something worth striving for.

To be continued…
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Greenleaf & Imladris 14 - Crucible of Love