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Greenleaf&Imladris 20-Calenlass: Heart of a Prince	By : MPB Category: -Multi-Age > General Views: 4275 -:- 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 I: Reunion

Minas Tirith, Nórui FA 20

Legolas stepped out of his room in the pavilion housing the private quarters of the royal family in the Citadel of Minas Tirith. It had been many years since he had walked the High City’s winding lanes for much of his time had been spent in the province of Ithilien.

As he had promised Aragorn, now King Elessar, he had brought south with him Elves of the Woodland Realm and established a haven in the region oft called the garden of Gondor. The Elves were restoring its beauty and grace even as they helped secure it against the last of the marauding orcs and renegade Men of the fallen Dark Lord.

He had come to Minas Tirith for a special occasion that merited great celebration. It was in honor of the betrothal of King Elessar and Queen Arwen’s only son, Eldarion, to the granddaughter of one of Gondor’s most noble princes, Imrahil of Dol Amroth. The King and Queen had asked the Elven prince to attend the festivities. They had couched the invitation in language that made it clear they would not accept a refusal. And so Legolas had returned after an absence of nearly six years.

He made his way down the corridor, his feet hardly making a sound on the stone floors. He was dressed formally as the occasion demanded. With a circlet wrought of silver and gold woven together upon his fair hair and garbed in a knee-length, intricately embroidered aquamarine robe over a white silken under-tunic, finely knit dark grey hose and ankle high light shoes, he was a vision the likes of which was rarely seen in the realms of Men in these later days. It was in this wondrous guise that the two who came around the bend in the corridor first beheld him.

“Legolas! You are here!”

The Elf smiled at the nineteen-year-old prince who stared at him with delight. In him he saw much of his mother and glimpses of his father. He grinned as the young man hurriedly approached him and enclosed him in a warm hug. He glanced up and recognized the prince’s companion.

“Elrohir!” he said with pleasure. “You have returned to Minas Tirith so soon, mellon nîn.”—my friend.

“Aye,” the younger twin replied, returning the prince’s tight embrace. “Elladan and I would not miss our nephew’s betrothal.”

He was as breathtakingly beautiful as the last time Legolas had seen him during his latest visit to the City of the Kings. His stately raiment only further emphasized the comeliness of his face and form. He was arrayed in deep sapphire, muted silver and stark black, colors that went well with his long obsidian locks and twilight eyes. Attired as Legolas in the formal style of the Elves of Greenwood, one he and Elladan had avidly adopted millennia ago, he wore a short, open robe that did not conceal his lean, muscular frame or long and supple legs. On his head was a simple circlet of pure mithril, the only indication of his status as one of the twin Lords of Rivendell. But even without it, there was no mistaking that here was one who wielded great power in the court of Gondor.

“They did not tell us you had arrived,” Eldarion said with a touch of pique. “Had we known we would have been the first to welcome you.”

“I know, pen neth”—young one—Legolas said soothingly. “But I believe you were both busy with other matters and they thought it best not to disturb you.”

“Nothing is so important that we could not lay it aside for a while to greet you,” Eldarion said seriously. “Is that not so, Uncle?”

Legolas’ heart warmed at the young man’s words. He had watched the prince of Gondor grow from infancy to early manhood and was very fond of him. But it was Elrohir whom Eldarion positively adored and hero-worshipped just as his own father had done many years ago in Rivendell. Uncle and nephew were so close that Aragorn had been heard to occasionally complain that his heir would sooner listen to the Elf-twin than his own parents to which Elrohir would good-naturedly retort that he had been much the same and so had no right to grumble.

Legolas could understand their closeness. His own friendship with the boy’s father had started and developed along the same lines though naturally with less intimacy than Aragorn had had with his foster brothers. It was a friendship that had outlived conflict and war and still prevailed in times of relative peace. But it was during the Quest of the Ring that it had come to its full strength.

The Quest. How long before the memories faded... Legolas swiftly brushed them aside. That was past and it was fruitless to dwell on it now. He turned his attention in full to the others and noticed the intent gaze Elrohir had trained on him.

“Your thoughts were elsewhere,” Elrohir said softly. Legolas did not miss the ever so slight accusatory tone.

“Forgive me,” Legolas apologized. "'Twas just that I was reminded of something else.”

“The Quest,” the darkling Elf said flatly. “You get that look on your face when that is on your mind.”

Legolas looked at him a little surprised. Was there some bitterness there or had he imagined it? Before he could respond, however, a young maiden approached them hurriedly. She was very lovely and carried herself with the grace of one born into nobility.

“Eldarion, we have been looking for you!” she exclaimed. She stopped when she realized just whom the prince was with.

Eldarion grinned as he recognized the look of appreciation she gave the Elves. It never failed. Elrohir and Legolas had the kind of beauty that drew the eyes of men and women alike. She shyly smiled at Elrohir with whom she was already familiar but glanced at Legolas a little diffidently.

Eldarion hastened to introduce her to the Elven prince. “Legolas, this is my betrothed, the Lady Ilien of Dol Amroth. Lady, this is Prince Legolas of Eryn Lasgalen.” The Elves had to smile at the obvious pride and affection in the prince’s voice. This was definitely a love match.

Ilien dropped into a deep curtsy, eyes lowered in deference. When she rose and spoke again, her tone had considerably altered to a more formal one.

“Highness, the King and Queen require our presence. My aunt and uncle have arrived from Rohan and wish to see us soonest.”

The Elves’ keen hearing detected the softest sigh from the prince. But Eldarion only said, “Of course, my lady, let us go then.” He could hardly refuse to meet his betrothed’s kinfolk, particularly when they happened to be King Éomer and Queen Lothiriel of neighboring Rohan. He glanced back at his uncle and the Elven prince. “I will see you later at the feast,” he said.

After they had departed, Legolas grinned at his friend. “I hear that Arwen has been trying to talk you into marrying as well, gwador”— sworn brother—he teased. “I am told she has been parading a number of fair ellith”—Elf-maids—“for your inspection.”

“Aye, but I have not found any to my liking.”

Legolas’ smile faded somewhat. “But what of your pledge? ‘Tis now more than twenty years and you still have not bound yourself to an Edhel.”—Elf.

“Do not worry about me, Legolas.”

“But I do worry.”

Elrohir gazed at him, his dark eyes so penetrating that Legolas, had he been a mere Man, might have flinched. As it is he held the gaze, his own never wavering. It was Elrohir’s next utterance that caused him to break eye contact.

“And you, ernilen?”—my prince? “I wager you have finally unshut your heart and found love.”

“I did not,” Legolas protested, startled by the unexpected statement.

“Very well, we shall not call it love if you find that discomfiting,” Elrohir coolly said. “Let us say that your affections were finally engaged.”

Legolas blinked at the suggestion. “And what makes you think they were?” he queried.

Elrohir snorted. ”I know you well, Legolas. Do not insult me by denying what I have perceived in you.”

The Elven prince hesitated. For a moment, his dark blue eyes seemed to lose focus as his thoughts dwelt on some distant memory.

“Mayhap you are right,” he conceded.

“What came of it?”

“It was not meant to be.”

“For someone who once renounced love for fear of its tribulations, you seem to have recovered nicely from this first incursion.”

Legolas shrugged. “It hurt well enough at the time but I have since learned to cope,” he replied. “I doubt I will feel the like again.”

Elrohir considered the answer then nodded. Legolas wondered at his friend’s sudden curiosity about the matter but Elrohir changed the subject before he could comment on this.

“Come, Elladan will be happy to see you as well.” Without giving the other a chance to respond he turned and led the way to his brother’s chamber.

“Is Nimeithel with him?” Legolas thought to inquire.

“Nay, your law-sister is near her time and Brethildor requested that Nimeithel stay with her until she gives birth.”

Legolas grinned. “How is Elladan taking his enforced celibacy then?”

“Not very well at all,” Elrohir replied, grinning back. “Estel has threatened to chain him to his bed if he disturbs his and Arwen’s sleep one more time!”

The two shared a laugh over the older twin’s problem as they made their way to his chamber.

*********

The betrothal feast was everything a royal event should be. There was an abundance of food and drink, a dizzying number of important guests and the heralding of a political alliance that would strengthen Gondor even further. Add to that a Crown Prince who was obviously besotted with his fair bride-to-be and the awe inspired by the three noble Edhil and it was truly a memorable night. The only thing that did not quite seem apt for the affair was the demeanor of one member of the royal family.

The younger of the foster brothers of Gondor’s king, who also happened to be one of his chief advisors, spent more time than was deemed proper with the Elven prince, Legolas. As the evening progressed, it became emphatically clear that he preferred his friend’s company to any other’s including that of the King himself, his sister, the Queen, his nephew, the heir of Gondor, and even his own twin brother. Legolas had to remind him time and again of his obligations.

At any other time the prince would have welcomed and enjoyed his friend’s attention. But he was mindful of the demands of the occasion and did not think it wise that Elrohir should ignore them so flagrantly. He was not only Aragorn’s kinsman and trusted counsellor, he was also a favorite of the Crown Prince and had great influence over the boy.

There were also many who sought an alliance with the King through an opportune marriage with members of the royal family. As his son was now betrothed, the next logical target was his unmarried Elf-brother since his daughters, the Princesses Eleniel and Romenna, were little more than youngsters and Elessar was of no mind to affiance any of his children without their consent. Therefore, it was imperative that Elrohir mingled with the guests even if he had no intention of wedding any of the fair maids imposed on his attention. The point was to establish advantageous political ties along the way.

Legolas became conscious of Arwen’s constant glances in their direction. He knew that she looked to him to persuade Elrohir into doing his duty.

That did not puzzle him. He and Elrohir had always been very close. They had practically grown up together along with Elladan. Many were the tales that came out of Greenwood and Rivendell about the three Elves’ adventures and misadventures. They had driven their respective fathers to distraction more times than either Elven sire cared to remember.

The friendship had never waned, not even when beset by crisis of various magnitudes. If anything it seemed to have gotten even stronger with each challenge to its foundation. Legolas had not expected matters to ever change.

But matters did change when Legolas removed to Ithilien and founded the elven colony of Eryn Gael. As Elrohir had predicted, circumstances had proven more of a deterrent to reunions than distance. They had last seen each other six years ago. Much of that time, Legolas had spent fighting once more.

It had been a period of conflict in the province.

Faramir, Prince of Ithilien, had trained all his forces on the eastern borders of his land, the region closest to once-feared Mordor. Legolas had lent his strength to Faramir’s armies and had spent the better part of the last several years fighting against orcs, bandits and Easterlings still intent on extending their own borders into Gondor.

Elrohir had wanted to join him but troubles with Gondor’s neighbors had necessitated his and Elladan’s presence in Harondor in skirmishes against encroaching Haradrim. And of course, there were their sojourns in Rivendell where they still dwelt after their father, Elrond, had passed to the West with the other Keepers of the Rings.

Mayhap his closeness to me now is his way of making up for those lost years, Legolas mused. Nevertheless, he could not let his friend upset the delicate balance of politics in Gondor. Elessar was beloved by the people but this was no guarantee that intrigue and infighting would not rear their ugly heads. As his foster brother, Elrohir had to help maintain that balance to ensure that his nephew’s future succession would not be fraught with discontent and public disapproval.

Legolas was all too aware of the opinions of a good number of the kingdom’s nobles. He knew that many whispered about his unusual closeness to the royal family despite his lack of kinship to them. He was not blind to the envy of those who sought greater influence upon Gondor’s rulers and the suspicions of others who thought there was something sinister about an Elf being in such a position.

In Gondor, the Firstborn were no longer feared as they once had been but there were still many superstitions regarding their strange customs and powers. Because of their human heritage, Arwen and her brothers were not regarded with as much suspicion. Legolas, a pureblooded Elf, did not have that luxury.

This was the other reason that Legolas had absented himself from court for such a long period of time. He had not wanted to be the reason for such talk. By staying away, he had blunted much of the silent accusations that he was exerting undue influence on the King and the King’s brother to whom Elessar turned for much counsel. Unfortunately, Elrohir’s behavior tonight could very well undo much of the good his prolonged absence had secured.

“You really should speak with Lord Dervorin,” he urged Elrohir. “He has been waiting to talk to you all evening.”

Elrohir sighed. “I am weary of speaking to every lord and lady and saying the same things over and over again. You cannot imagine how tedious it can get.”

Legolas smiled understandingly. “I know of what you speak. But ‘tis your duty and you must attend to it. Come now, ‘tis not as if you do not do this in Imladris!”

“Very well, but you must stay right here until I return.”

Only upon securing Legolas’ word did he finally make his way to the aforementioned noble. Legolas watched as the Elf-lord skillfully engaged the Lord of Ringlo Vale in conversation and exchanged witty repartee with any who sought his attention. He was so charming that many who had earlier resented his aloofness were now completely enthralled. He is a most potent and adept politician when he puts his mind to it, thought Legolas. A true son of Elrond.

He cast a glance at the King and Queen. Arwen caught his eye. She gave him a look that conveyed relief and gratitude. Legolas grinned back in reply.

He sympathized with Aragorn and Arwen. Elrohir had always been the more intractable twin. Even Elladan, for all his high spirits and love of mischief, had been reasonably tamed by the passing of the years and, later, by the calming influence of love. Not so Elrohir.

The younger twin was no meek and biddable Elf who did as he was told without question. Unless it was on the field of battle, one could not just tell him what to do; one had to justify one’s order first.

He did not believe in holding one’s tongue just to spare someone’s feelings if that someone was a fool or a blackguard to begin with. More often than not, he would state his opinion even if what he had to say was not complimentary at best and too blunt to stomach at worst. How he still managed to be an excellent diplomat was a mystery that had yet to be fathomed.

He was also deeply passionate about things he cared for. Once he set his mind to something, it was difficult to dissuade him or rein him in.

Legolas smiled as he observed Elrohir smoothly but hastily rid himself of two overbearing lords, one fawning counsellor and a slew of flirtatious maidens. With an expression that would send even the most pugnacious orc into hiding, the twin hurried back to his friend’s side. Legolas laughed softly as the other grimly pulled him behind one of the great pillars that lined the sides of Merethrond, the Hall of Feasts, in a most obvious bid to avoid further attention.

“That was not too terrible now, was it?” he said.

“You are jesting! ‘Twas worse than terrible!” Elrohir exclaimed. “Never have I had to listen to so many fatuous, boring, absolutely pointless inanities! I grieve for my poor nephew that he will some day have to bear thrice what I must endure.”

Legolas chuckled. “The evening is still young, Elrohir,” he pointed out. “Your duties are far from over.”

The darkling Elf groaned. “Must you remind me?” He sighed. “The only saving grace in all this is your presence, Calenlass. I am truly glad you are back.”

Legolas smiled. Elrohir had been the first and only one to use the pet name on him “I, too, am glad to be here. I have missed you, meldiren.”—my friend.

Elrohir glanced at him. “I missed you, too,” he said, his voice suddenly soft and wistful. “I wish you did not stay away so long.”

“You know why I had to.”

“Aye. ‘Tis amazing how vicious people can be, thinking such thoughts about you. If they knew how much good you have done Gondor they would not be so quick to make judgments about you.”

“Nay, they would be quicker.”

The darkling Elf snorted. “They are fools to believe any evil of you,” he said. “If they only knew how unhappy they make me when their malice keeps you from here.” He sighed pensively. “With my oath of service to Gondor, I can only rarely remain in Imladris with Elladan for more than half of each year and his visits to Gondor cannot be prolonged now that he is wed to your sister. When he leaves there is only you for with Estel king he cannot be the brother of our earlier days. Yet he cannot spare me overlong and I must remain ever at his side in these turbulent times. These past six years have been lonely ones, ernilen.”—my prince.

Legolas frowned. “I did not realize you felt my absence so keenly,” he said. “Had I known I would have come here now and then.”

“Even with all the talk?”

“Yes, despite everything, I would have come. You are dear to me and I would not have you unhappy.”

Elrohir smiled. “I only wish—” He stopped. "'Tis good of you to feel that way,” he said.

Legolas had the odd feeling that was not what he been about to say. He noticed Aragorn signaling to him from afar that Elrohir was needed once more.

“Aragorn summons you,” he told the other Elf. “I believe one of his nobles wishes to present his daughters to you.”

Elrohir scowled. “Once more into the breach,” he muttered. “You will wait here?”

Legolas smiled. “I will wait.”

He watched the twin walk to the King and Queen. He grinned as Elrohir tried to wipe away his annoyance and affect a cheerful mien. From the smiles on everybody’s faces, he was apparently successful and if one did not know him well one would think him merry and content. But the dark look he managed to cast in Legolas’ direction indicated he was anything but.

It was way past the midnight hour when the festivities finally ended. The three Elves made their way back to their chambers.

“Estel says you are leaving tomorrow,” Elladan said soberly. “Is this true?”

Legolas nodded. “I am needed in Ithilien.”

“Yet you have just arrived and were away for so long,” Elrohir said. “We had hoped you would spend the week with us before we returned to Imladris.”

Legolas sighed. “If I could stay longer, I would. You know that, Elrohir.”

Elrohir frowned. “Then I shall have to go to you instead,” he stated. “When I return to Gondor I will visit you soonest.”

“That will please me,” Legolas smiled. He did not see the guarded glance Elladan cast at his twin.

They walked down the covered passageway that led to the royal pavilion. It forked at one point with the royal apartments on one side and the quarters of guests of high stature on the other. Just as Legolas was about to head for his own chamber, the younger twin gripped his arm suddenly. The prince glanced at him inquiringly.

“Legolas, I would speak with you tomorrow before you leave,” he said

Legolas looked at him curiously. But he merely nodded before walking away. He did not sense the other’s eyes on him or hear the deep breath he exhaled.

Elladan shook his head and placed an arm around his brother’s shoulders as they walked on to their respective rooms.

“Why wait, gwanneth?”—younger twin?—he queried. “Why not tonight?”

Elrohir smiled faintly. “Let him have a good night’s sleep,” he said.

Elladan snorted in some amusement. “But he is returning to Ithilien tomorrow. There is no telling when you will meet again. It might be months or even a year or more.”

Elrohir glanced at his twin. “He will likely find himself in need of the respite after our talk. And I am of a mind to let him have the time for it.” His eyes gleamed darkly. “He will need it.”

*******************

Glossary:

Nórui - Sindarin for June

Edhil - Elves

Calenlass - Greenleaf (Elrohir’s pet name for Legolas)

To be continued…
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Greenleaf&Imladris 20-Calenlass: Heart of a Prince