Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

Greenleaf & Imladris 28 - In His Father's Image	By : MPB Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 5531 -:- 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
- 2
- 3
Chapter II

Imladris, tuilë FA 77

The arrows struck in lightning succession in an almost impossibly straight line down the trunk of the tree, none embedded more shallowly or deeply than their fellows. Such precision and delicacy elicited a round of praise from Elladan’s sons for their woodland uncle’s inimitable display of mastery.

“That is splendid, Uncle Legolas,” Elendir declared. “If I can come close to even just half of what you can do in archery, I should be blissfully content.”

“Aye, no one can match you,” Elros agreed, eyes shining with awe.

Legolas smiled and shook his head. “Your father and Elrohir are most capable of matching me, pin nith”—young ones—he countered.

“On occasion,” Elros said. “But ‘tis the exception rather than the rule.”

“And they have not bested you since you came into your own,” Elendir added. “Uncle Elrohir says none ever will, so peerless is your skill.”

Legolas’ smile widened, as always pleased with any compliment from his darkling spouse.

“He praises me overmuch,” he murmured, coloring slightly to the twins’ delight. “Come now, retrieve the arrows that we may continue.”

He regarded his nephews proudly as they sprinted to do as they were bid. In their forty-fifth year, they were beautiful as only the Peredhil could be but slighter of build than either Elladan or Elrohir. Still young for their kindred, they were more slender even than Legolas. But the approach of maturity heralded the imminence of well-formed torsos and limbs. And in the last four years, they had undergone another growth spurt. They would be as tall as their sire, of that the prince was certain.

Legolas smiled a little wistfully. They had grown in more than body. He still missed the affectionate diminutives of ‘Las’ and ‘Rohir’ that the twins had bestowed on him and Elrohir up to their fortieth year. But in the time since, they had weaned themselves from many childhood habits, slowly preparing themselves for adulthood not only in form but in mind as well.

They were still as capable of mischief as their father and uncles had been at the same age. But they were more tempered now, guided by sage counsel, tender discipline and utter, unconditional love. The opposing sides of their natures had also began to blossom. Thus Elendir, who had tended to be the more obliging and diplomatic of the two was learning to be just a shade more demanding and stubborn, while Elros, the impatient, oft mule-headed and sharp-tongued twin, was slowly uncovering his gentler, more giving side.

Whether such changes were the natural course of growing up or the benign influence of their environment was of no matter. What was of import to all was that Elladan’s sons were bidding fair to match their father and his twin in the comeliness of their features, bodies and spirits. Without a doubt, Legolas welcomed their burgeoning maturity but, at the same time, he also regretted the disappearance of the innocent Elflings he had loved so well.

They returned to him and he set them to practicing their skills as he did whenever he and Elrohir came north to visit.

From his vantage point a few paces back, Lindir watched the trio with quiet enjoyment. It was always a pleasure for him to regard such martial grace and skill in action. Though he was a capable warrior, he owned himself no master of the battle-arts. Thus, he appreciated those who were and admired them greatly for the hard work and discipline they put into perfecting their skills.

The three Elves before him were more than worthy of anyone’s admiration. Legolas was as renowned a warrior as the senior Peredhil twins were. And Elladan’s sons showed every indication of following in their father and uncles’ legendary footsteps.

Some time later, Legolas released them into Ailios’ care; the chief advisor had come to fetch them for their history lessons. The prince stayed on to continue his drill.

Lindir followed the brethren with his eyes as they headed back to the house with Ailios. He could not help focusing his gaze on one twin in particular.

“You aim high, Lindir.”

The snidely uttered insinuation made him stiffen. But he stifled the impulse to return a caustic retort and turned to face Merenwë.

“I beg your pardon, counsellor?” he quietly said.

“You heard me,” the advisor snipped. “Ever have you set your sights on your betters. To no avail, thank Eru. It would not do for such illustrious Edhil”—Elves—“to stoop so low.”

The steward’s cheeks burned at the slight but he maintained his calm.

“You were ever tart of tongue, Merenwë,” he remarked. “But of late, you have become overly sharp.”

“If I have, ‘tis to protect those I serve,” Merenwë replied.

Lindir raised a finely arched eyebrow. “To protect them or to possess them?” At Merenwë’s slight surprise, he continued: “You hope to ally yourself with the Peredhil through one of Lord Elladan’s sons. Do not think I have not marked your unwonted interest in Elros.”

This time it was Merenwë’s turn to flush. Collecting himself, he looked disdainfully at the steward.

“Whatever my interests, it changes not the fact that a mere steward and former housemaster should know better than to aspire to bed his own lord’s son. Or his own lord for that matter!” When Lindir paled at so base an accusation, he said sneeringly: “Think you I did not note your regard for Lord Elladan? ‘Tis fortunate he had the good taste not to return it.” He shrugged contemptuously. “What is it about you Sindar? Always, you strive to ennoble yourselves through alliances with the Noldor. ‘Tis a deplorable practice that—”

He broke off as a slender figure silently joined them. He pursed his thin lips when Legolas smilingly planted himself beside Lindir. The archer’s smile did not reach his eyes.

“That is a fascinating contention, Merenwë,” Legolas coolly commented. “Are you suggesting that I ennobled myself by binding to Elrohir?”

Merenwë turned diplomatic all at once. “‘Twas but a turn of phrase, my prince,” he offered. “An imprudent one, I admit.”

“An uncivil one as well,” Legolas amended. “You dislike my kindred, it seems, yet the Peredhil themselves are descended from both Noldor and Sindar and even the mortal Edain. Do you deem yourself their superior?”

“Of course not!” Merenwë snapped, his superciliousness getting the better of him. “Lord Elrond should have been High-king after Ereinion had he only accepted what was his by right. We speak of scions of the line of Turgon of Gondolin, himself descended from the Elvenkings of Eldamar!’

“Why do you not mention Thingol of Doriath who beheld the Two Trees but chose to remain in these Hither Lands? Is it because he cast his lot with mere Wood-elves?” Lindir softly but pointedly said.

Merenwë bristled. “The Peredhil have always comported themselves as Noldor!” he said harshly.

“And have ever taken Sindar as their mates,” Legolas drawled gibingly. “Not to mention humans.”

The counsellor reddened. “That is a regrettable fault of theirs.”

“Ah, you do dislike my kindred,” Legolas said, his voice a shade colder.

Forgetting himself, Merenwë dropped all pretense at civility. “What is there to like in a folk who seek to raise their stock by coupling and breeding with those of nobler blood than theirs?” His dark eyes suddenly flashed viciously at Legolas. The archer was surprised but did not flinch. “Even you, O Prince! And you not even Thranduil’s heir but merely his third-spawn.”

Suspicion flared in Legolas’ mind. He skewered the advisor with a gaze so black it prompted the latter to take a hasty step backward.

“And did you once seek to ennoble yourself as well, Merenwë?” he growled. “And in failing would now vent your spleen on me?”

Merenwë blanched at the blunt accusation. He trembled visibly, barely able to suppress his fear and anger.

“You speak nonsense, Wood-elf!” he snarled.

“You forget your place, Merenwë!” Lindir objected, shocked at such blatant disrespect shown to the woodland prince. “You cannot speak thusly to your lord!”

The counsellor regarded him haughtily. “He is not my lord,” he snapped. “Merely the mate of him who is.”

With that, he turned and strode back briskly to the house. Legolas and Lindir watched him go, both careful to hold in their ire.

“He shows his true colors,” Legolas remarked acidly. “He has harbored his resentments for years.”

Lindir nodded. “Aye, but I did not think he would dare demean you,” he said angrily. “Is he mad?”

“Nay, only so filled with rage that he no longer used his reason,” Legolas replied.

“But surely he fears what Lord Elrohir will do once he hears of this,” Lindir commented.

“I wager he thinks that, in our benighted woodland pride, we will hold our tongues rather than own ourselves in need of the protection of others.”

“He is not only mad then but also a fool,” Lindir said. He looked keenly at Legolas. “My lords must hear of this.”

“They will,” Legolas assured him. “I am not so proud that I would conceal so flagrant an offence from my mate. Merenwë must be chastened lest he grows bolder and heaps abuse on others less able to defend themselves.”

Lindir smiled faintly then. “Speaking of which, you so kindly did for me,” he said. “My thanks.”

“I merely hearkened to our common heritage,” Legolas answered. “As well as our common preference for twins of the Peredhil line.”

Lindir shook his head. “What Merenwë said—”

“Was all too true,” Legolas interrupted gently. At Lindir’s uncertain reaction, he added, “There is little that Elladan keeps from Elrohir and even less that Elrohir hides from me.”

“You are not appalled?” Lindir asked warily.

“I should say not,” Legolas rejoined. “If I have one cause for worry, it is that mayhap you have turned your affection to Elros because he is so alike to his father.” He regarded Lindir closely. “Is it Elros you love or the image of Elladan that you see in him?”

Lindir shook his head. “I have put the past behind me,” he said. “What I felt once for Elladan is but a memory to me now. Elros owes his place in my heart to no one.” He looked at Legolas unflinchingly. “I love him and him alone.”

Legolas nodded and relaxed. A slow smile spread across his lips. “Then we are in accord. I wish you well, Lindir, and as much luck as you may need.”

Lindir sighed. “And as I told Elladan, ‘tis most unlikely anything will come out of my regard for his son.”

“You do not know that,” the archer said. “Any more than I knew that Elrohir would choose a mere Wood-elf to espouse.”

“You are not a mere Wood-elf!” Lindir objected indignantly.

“Yet I am a pure-blood of my kindred whereas you are half-Noldo,” Legolas pointed out. “By Merenwë’s twisted estimation, that elevates you a notch higher even than my own father.”

Lindir sniffed contemptuously. “Merenwë can stuff his idiotic opinions up his backside!’

The prince burst out laughing, the sound of it so infectious that Lindir joined him an instant later. They shared a few moments of mirth at the advisor’s expense. After a spell, Legolas quelled his laughter and placed a comradely hand on Lindir’s shoulder.

“The Peredhil decide for themselves who are worthy of them,” he said. “They set no great store by the trappings of position or the traditions of race and blood. Their choices of mates have ever been dictated by their noble hearts and no other considerations.” He smiled warmly. “Else Elessar would not now have the Evenstar as his queen, my sister would not be the mother of Elladan’s sons and I would not know the bliss of my Elf-knight’s blessed regard.”

The archer’s kindling eyes softened as he spoke this last. Lindir had to smile at such patent joy. Though he did not believe so happy a fate would be his, he rejoiced nonetheless in the felicity of others.

********

The quill scratched repeatedly across the crisp sheet of parchment. Legolas watched his sable-maned knight as the other pressed on with the numerous missives he needed to send come morning.

They had retired from company for the night but, in Elrohir’s case, not from duty. Though bathed and already clad as Legolas in naught but a night-robe, he had seated himself at the handsome writing desk in their bedchamber to finish his correspondence. Legolas waited patiently on their bed, long legs pulled up and slender arms wrapped around his knees. But after a long while, patience gave out.

“Elrohir.”

“Hm?”

“Did you ever bed Merenwë?”

The quill stopped moving with a jerk and disbelieving grey eyes alighted on the archer. Elrohir stared at Legolas in downright surprise.

“Why do you ask?”

“Why do you evade?”

The Elf-knight regarded his mate curiously then laid down his quill and turned in the chair to face him.

“Aye, I did,” he answered in all honesty.

Legolas’ eyes darkened with displeasure but he only said, “Before you had me, I hope.”

Elrohir frowned. “No other ellon followed you, beloved,” he said. “I wanted no other.”

The blue eyes lightened and a wan smile curled the rosy lips. “I wonder that you could stomach him.”

Elrohir shrugged. “He was not so irksome as he is now. And I was indiscriminate in my youth. A fact of which you are well aware.”

“He was a challenge?”

“Nay, he showed me no resistance in the least. He was no more than a bed-treat to me.” He turned even more curious as Legolas seemed to ponder something. “What is this about, Legolas?”

The prince sighed and rested his chin on his knees. “It explains much.”

“Explains what?”

“Why he did not depart with your father for Aman. Why he has never shown me more than the barest courtesy.”

Elrohir rose from his chair and joined his golden spouse on the bed. Facing Legolas, he peered wonderingly at him.

“What mischief did he wreak on you, Calenlass?” he asked frowningly.

“Not mischief but his bile,” Legolas replied. “And as much on Lindir as on me.”

Elrohir’s eyes darkened ominously. “Tell me.”

“He desired you, Aduial,” the archer said. At the Elf-knight’s shock, he went on. “When you took him to your bed, he misguidedly believed you returned his desire. No doubt he discerned soon enough where you had bestowed your love but when I did not seem inclined to return it, he thought he still stood a chance of winning you.”

Elrohir pursed his lips with displeasure. “Then I was his reason for staying here,” he murmured.

Legolas nodded. “And I to blame for denying him his chance with you.”

Elrohir snorted. “I would have sooner kissed an orc than bound myself to that arrogant son-of-a-troll,” he growled. “What else did he say?”

Legolas told him the rest. By the time he finished, the Elf-knight’s eyes had blackened to coal grey, their argent hue subdued by his still fury. “The gall of that blackguard to show you so little respect! And to demean Lindir’s feelings when he knows nothing of true love—!” The warrior looked fit to skin the counsellor alive and roast him to a fine turn.

“But what if he does know?” Legolas mused. “Surely if he cared only for the benefits of an alliance with your house, he would not have fixed his eyes on Elros alone. Mayhap he does have some affection for him.”

“His questionable notion of affection, if so,” Elrohir retorted. “But I seriously doubt that, Calenlass. If he desires to woo Elros ‘tis not because of love but because of expediency. Elendir has shown a decided inclination for female-kind while Elros has displayed no marked preference for one or the other.” His eyes narrowed. “Merenwë has outstayed his welcome,” he said icily. “‘Tis time he was asked to take his leave of Imladris.”

Legolas did not hide his pleasure at this pronouncement. “But whatever possessed your father to accept him as a counsellor in the first place?” he inquired.

“Ill-founded gratitude,” Elrohir explained. “When it was learned that he was building Imladris, many Elves from Lindon came to help or seek new challenges. Merenwë was one of them. He was more tolerable in those days and much of his counsel was sound enough to gain him a place amongst Adar’s advisors.”

“Not to mention your bed,” Legolas could not help putting in.

“Calenlass,” Elrohir said warningly. “‘Twas but part of the folly of my reckless youth, nothing more.” He reached out and cupped the prince’s chin in his hand. “Surely he did not make you doubt the rightness of our love?”

At that, Legolas suddenly beamed brightly. “Not in the least! You are mine, Elrohir. I defy anyone to try and take you away from me.”

The silver of the warrior’s eyes flamed anew. With startling swiftness, he pried Legolas’ arms from his knees, summarily parted his legs and all but hauled the prince onto his lap. Gasping, Legolas found himself astride the Elf-knight’s groin and in danger of impalement upon a sudden and most potent arousal. He groaned as Elrohir nibbled at his throat even as he yanked his night-robe open to bare the archer to his touch.

Legolas nearly reared when the twin’s hand slipped between them to cup and fondle him until he was aching with a wild and wanton need.

“You are wicked,” he panted when Elrohir grasped him by the hips and positioned him for their joining.

“Should I stop?” Elrohir teasingly inquired.

“Only if you do not value your life, Elf-knight!” Legolas retorted.

Whereupon Elrohir proceeded to show him how much he valued his life. And the love that made it worth living.

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

Glossary:

tuilë - Quenya for spring

ellon - male Elf

Aduial – Twilight

Calenlass - Greenleaf

To be continued…
- 1
- 2
- 3
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Greenleaf & Imladris 28 - In His Father's Image