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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
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Chapter 16
�He would remain, were it not for Elladan,� Glorfindel said, his tone carefully neutral, as he watched Elrohir move among the young recruits, pausing here and there to correct a stance or grant his much-coveted approval. �Is that not so?�
Legolas bit his lip, his innate honesty warring with the fear that by agreeing, he was somehow being unfaithful to Elladan. �For a time, perhaps,� he admitted at last, glancing at his companion before his gaze returned to the sparring field. �But he would eventually return to the quest.�
�Of course.�

The captain said no more, and Legolas bristled slightly, as though affronted on his absent lover�s behalf. ��Roh has come to terms with his pain in a way that yet escapes �Dan, I believe.�

�Because Elladan seeks something that he will not find in battle,� Glorfindel said, meeting Legolas� questioning gaze with a wry smile. �I know something of guilt and blame, young one. �Adan will not find his absolution in the blood of those vile creatures.� He sighed, his eyes kind. �No more than he found it in pain and debasement and the marks of his brother�s teeth.�
Legolas swallowed thickly, memory providing an all-too-perfect vision of the ugly scene that had greeted his arrival in the aftermath of the tragedy, an image of blood and tears and bruised flesh, Elrohir kneeling like a supplicant before Elladan�s finally roused fury. �Where is it to be found, then?� he whispered, knowing the question foolish yet hoping against hope that the reborn elf had some secret knowledge, some special wisdom to impart.
Glorfindel shook his head. ��Adan must find it within himself, as have all those so stricken before.� He glanced at Legolas keenly. �But I will say that he will find the search simpler here, within the valley, than outside, where anger and vengeance dull the pain.� The prince nodded soberly and Glorfindel continued, lowering his voice as Elrohir started toward them across the grassy field. �Their hope is here, Legolas, not in the savagery of battle or the smoke of charnel fires. The twins need the valley, though they perhaps do not yet see it so, and Elrond needs them at his side.�
�Are you discussing my excellent form, or plotting against me?� Elrohir demanded cheekily, a grin that had too long been absent lighting his face. �They are green, to be sure, Glorfindel,� he said frankly, nodding at the trainees, �but there are some good prospects among them.�
�They suffer from lack of your fine example,� the captain retorted, softening his words with a smile, �though I do my best.�
�Perhaps watching a match of experts would inspire them,� Legolas said suddenly, an impish gleam in his eye. �What do you say?�
Elrohir chuckled, though his brow furrowed thoughtfully. �Are you challenging me to a bout with swords, wood-elf?� he teased with mock arrogance. �The blade is not your best weapon.�
Nor yours, peredhel.
The sensual brush of his lover�s thoughts was accompanied by a blatant glance at Elrohir�s groin, and the elf-knight snorted in amused disbelief.

�Nay,� Legolas replied aloud, a grin playing on his own lips, �As a swordsman, I am hardly a challenge for you. But Glorfindel is a more than worthy opponent.�
Elrohir looked to Glorfindel uncertainly, his face betraying the realization that had struck him with Legolas� words. He had not stood against Imladris� captain since that long ago day when they had tussled not in sport, but in anger.
�It has been many a moon,� Glorfindel answered, as though privy to Elrohir�s thoughts. �Aye, �tis high time we tested your skill again, �Rohir.�
His spirits bolstered by the understanding in Glorfindel�s eyes, Elrohir nodded his acceptance. �You will find me more than your match now,� he bragged, winking at Legolas cheerfully. �Fetch your sword, captain, and I will tell the younglings of their good fortune.�
A rustle of anticipation swept through the gathered novices as Glorfindel returned, his chest bare, his golden hair carelessly knotted, and his prized sword - both longer and heavier than those of Imladrian make were wont to be - swinging comfortably from one hand. Though the newly tapped warriors had seen their captain offer many demonstrations and humbly dispatch countless sparring partners, they had never yet seen him tested as it seemed he might be today. The stories of his past matches with Thranduil were naught but legend to the wide-eyed younglings who now waited, entranced, as Glorfindel checked his blade and stretched cold muscles.
Elrohir stripped off his own tunic and took up his sword, nodding respectfully as Glorfindel moved into position. No matter the ease of their relationship beyond the field, here the captain held absolute authority. Though Elrohir might dispute a point of weaponry over dinner or argue against Glorfindel�s battle strategy while sipping miruvor in the Hall, before the gathered novices he was the captain�s second, and acted accordingly.
Even if he did hope to leave Glorfindel face down in the dust.
What followed was a bout of such intensity and skill that Legolas found himself holding his breath with anticipation, believing for the first time that Elrohir might have spoken true. Perhaps he was Glorfindel�s equal on the sparring field, after all.
The ritualistic strike and parry of the match quickly gave way to a ferocious series of attacks and feints, such that one unwarned might think the two bent on inflicting real injury. Glorfindel�s eyes narrowed in grim satisfaction as his blows were turned away without apparent effort, their force reflected back at him as Elrohir pushed forward, the elf-knight�s slightly lighter sword seeming an extension of his arm, so instinctively was it wielded.
Elrohir�s face was a mask of studied concentration, only his dancing eyes revealing his delight in the contest, his exultation at the approval evident in Glorfindel�s slowly growing smile.

It was then that Legolas was struck with a rush of longing the likes of which he had never known. A yearning for the company of his father, for the paths and trees of his realm, for the camaraderie of friends. He thought of Barangolas, of Tiriadon and Lindel, of Dorwinion-filled goblets and the song of nightbirds, of swinging lanterns and caverns dotted with steaming pools. It seemed as though the years of questing, the endless days and nights of tension and dissent, the strain of being both lover and guardian, counselor and confessor, shield-brother and friend, all came crashing down on him in one terrible moment, and Legolas� chest ached with sudden understanding.
He was homesick.
The rousing cheers of the watchers around him brought Legolas� attention back to the field, where the combatants were locked in what seemed an unbreakable standoff, both elves sweat-streaked and flushed, caught in a dance of vicious assaults and impenetrable defenses. Then there was the shrill keening of a blade slicing the air and a roar of triumph and Elrohir was unarmed, the flat of Glorfindel�s sword at his throat, his own weapon lying useless on the ground at his feet.
�Almost, young one,� Glorfindel managed, his breath coming in great, panting gasps. �Almost.� Throwing aside his own sword, the captain drew Elrohir into a warrior�s embrace, his pride in the elf who had once been his charge shining for all to see.
As the crowd of novices surged forward, Legolas got to his feet slowly, his joy at Elrohir�s excitement dimmed by the shadow of his own desire for home. If Elrohir noticed his lover�s reticence amid the cheerful confusion, he said nothing, for which Legolas was guiltily grateful. Accepting the hand the elf-knight offered, Legolas allowed himself to be pulled into the lively group and toward the bathing pools.
*************
The tension in the cozy chamber off the main library had built to a suffocating pitch, Anteruon�s words of support and counsel turned aside by the sense of failure and guilt that Elladan yet wore like a mantle. With a deep breath and a prayer for guidance, the crown prince changed tactics abruptly. �You hold your father in disdain, as well, then?�
Elladan whirled about in amazement. �Of course not!�
�You think yourself Elrond�s better in this?�
�Do not be daft,� Elladan snapped, his temper sparked by the calm with which Anteruon spoke such blasphemy. �Ada has no equal in the healing arts. Not in this Age, nor any other.�
�Then surely the blame you shoulder is not yours, but his,� Anteruon pointed out mildly. �If the greatest healer in the Hither Lands has failed through lack of skill or perhaps too little effort...�
A lesser elf would have fled at the furious gleam in Elladan�s eyes. �How dare you speak so of the Lord of this valley?� he demanded, his hands clenching reflexively into tight fists. �How dare you? Ada has used all of his skill and knowledge to no avail, spent hours poring over ancient texts and half-remembered tales searching for some miracle. He sustained Nana with his very spirit. He has given all that he has, more than he can spare!�
�And you have not?�
Elladan�s brow furrowed at the sharp question. �I...�
�Did you not also use all that you have been granted? Did Elrond search the scrolls alone? Did he toil alone in the healing halls, or spend one night alone at Celebr�an�s bedside, save those times he ordered you to your rest?�
�Aye...nay,� Elladan mumbled wretchedly. �Perhaps. I cannot remember.�
�Your father can remember,� Anteruon said, and his tone softened. �Can you not see what your agonizing and self-debasement are doing to him, gwador? If you hold yourself in such contempt, how much more blame must you heap on his head?�
�I do not hold Ada responsible for our loss!� Elladan refuted, horrified. �Nana suffered too much to ever heal here, where the danger of like attacks grows greater with each passing season. Even had she not faded, she would have had no joy in life. Only by letting her go could Ada hope to save her.�
�I know that,� Anteruon pointed out gently. �Elrohir and Arwen and Legolas and all the peoples of all the realms know it true, as well. Only you and your father seem oblivious. He did not fail, nor did you, Elladan. Your mother�s sailing was not a failure, but a sacrifice, a surrender of time today in hopes of securing the future. A sacrifice that will, Valar willing, be rewarded by health and peace recovered.�
�But I miss her now.�
Elladan�s voice was uncertain and forlorn, and it seemed to Anteruon that he was watching years of jealously hoarded anger and guilt fall away to reveal a deep, aching sadness. It was all he could do not to leave his chair and draw Elladan into a protective embrace, for the elder twin appeared, at that moment, as vulnerable as an elfling deserted.
Anteruon felt sure, however, that Elladan would later rue accepting such coddling from him, would see it as an acknowledgement of weakness, so he did nothing more than rise and lay a comforting hand on his friend�s shoulder. �I know,� he said simply. The faintest rustle of robes reached Anteruon�s ears, and he turned to find Elrond standing near the door.

�Leave us,� Elrond said quietly, his eyes burning with some unnamed emotion, though his face was nearly expressionless.
Anteruon wondered how long his host had been standing outside the chamber...how much he had heard. He wondered, but asked no questions. Nodding obediently, he squeezed Elladan�s shoulder again and disappeared into the library proper.
�I do not blame you, Ada,� Elladan choked out, all sense of caution and restraint stripped away in the overwhelming sorrow that now threatened to engulf him. �I have never blamed you.�
Elrond was silent for a long moment, his gaze fixed on the face of his son. �Oh, �Adan,� he whispered, drawing his eldest child into his arms, �forgive me for leaving you to find your own way. I accepted your aid, used your gift selfishly, never considering the cost to you.�
�It is no matter. My healing gift failed as surely as my foresight,� Elladan answered, though the bitterness of the past years was gone from his tone, the words now halting, begging exoneration from the one most able to give it.
�Nay, child,� Elrond said firmly, and his voice was that of a father who would tolerate no contradiction, though his son was now his match in both size and strength, if not in wisdom. �If there is blame to be borne, then it is mine.�
Elladan opened his mouth to protest, and was silenced with a look.

�But the time spent assigning blame might be better spent in healing,� Elrond continued, tears wetting his cheeks as the truth of his words, intended to soothe his son, at last began to seep into his own soul. �There is no failure here, �Adan. Only a cruel fate, and those who seek to triumph over it.�
Neither could later say how long they stood as such, grieving together for the first time without bitterness, the guilt that had so long burdened both not yet gone, perhaps, but pushed aside, lessened by the sharing of memories and fears.
His tears at last gone dry, Elladan felt an exhaustion the like of which he had seldom known creep over him. �I love you, Ada,� he mumbled, his voice muffled by Elrond�s hair, and the elf-lord smiled faintly, drawing back to press a kiss to Elladan�s forehead.
�I think a bit of rest is perhaps in order,� Elrond said, glancing through the arches to find the sun still high. �There is yet time before the evening meal.�
�Will you rest with me, then?�
Elrond shook his head with a smile, though it seemed to Elladan that a trace of sadness returned to his eyes. �I think you will find your brother and Legolas returned from the sparring field,� Elrond replied. �You will not want for company. I will see you at dinner.�
Elladan reluctantly turned to leave, casting a last concerned glance at his father, who stood alone near the open arches. He started to speak, then thought better of it, instead slipping quietly through the door into the main library. He was unsurprised and curiously undisturbed to find Anteruon lingering nearby.
�Are you well, gwador?� the crown prince asked quietly.
Elladan nodded tiredly. �I am,� he answered, then paused, studying Anteruon intently.
�Elladan?�
The elder twin shook himself slightly. �Forgive me,� he said, �I was lost in a memory.� There was a moment�s silence, then Elladan motioned toward the door of the side chamber. �I believe Ada could use your company, if you are willing.�
Anteruon smiled warmly, his hand already on the latch. �It would be my pleasure.�

*~*~*~*~*

gwador - sworn brother
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Princes Three: Darkness Unforeseen