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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 XX: Beyond Compare

Eryn Lasgalen, Nárbeleth FA 22

The newly bound pair followed Elladan and Nimeithel to Greenwood that autumn. Travelling north by the east-ways, their progress was swifter than usual, which suited Legolas just fine. He knew better than to make his father wait overlong for a visit once he received news of their binding from his daughter and older law-son.

As it was, Thranduil would surely demand an explanation from his favorite son for his precipitate decision. Not that Legolas regretted it in any way. The very recitation of the nuptial vows had given him a sense of serenity and security he’d never known before.

He glanced at his dark-haired spouse. No longer was there any trace of the grief that had near consumed Elrohir to fading. He was as radiant and lusty as the day Legolas first laid eyes on him. Nonetheless, the archer still remembered with sharp resonance how he had almost lost so beloved a soul. Hence his determination to bind to him soonest.

He had not wasted any time setting aright what he had so nearly brought to ruin. No longer would he permit his Elf-knight to suffer needlessly. And he’d finally laid claim to what his heart and spirit had long desired but which he had denied in his stubborn, misguided fear.

They were not alone on the journey. Elladan had sent a small contingent of Imladrin and Greenwood soldiers to augment their escort. There had been reports of orkish activity once more in the Hithaeglir and the older twin did not care to take chances. Daurin, Glorfindel’s former second-in-command and now captain of Rivendell’s warriors, headed the troop.

As a result, the trip proved not only rapid but uneventful as well. That there were orcs who had thought to ambush them was not in any doubt. But the sight of a goodly number of well-armed warrior Elves proved a most effective deterrent.

Their arrival in Eryn Lasgalen was momentous to say the least. Legolas could not help wincing at the number of Elves that gathered in the clearing before the delved halls to welcome him home and ogle his binding-mate as well. For though Elrohir was as familiar a figure in the Woodland Realm as his twin, his espousal to Legolas, the first between two ellyn in the royal family itself, drew the curiosity and wonder of most if not all the Edhil of this forest kingdom.

While not all the Elves of Greenwood were fully at ease with the reintroduction of the old ways into their realm, none begrudged those who sought to tread this road their happiness or the freedom to seek it. Therefore, while it would take some time for those who still felt wary of the changes to become wholly comfortable with them, none looked askance at their prince’s love for the Elvenlord. They might still approach the ancient path more slowly and cautiously than their counterparts in other elven domains but they no longer shunned it.

His father did not stand on ceremony but swept him into his arms as soon as he dismounted. This was immediately followed by a warm embrace for his newest child-by-law. Only when he had properly welcomed them did the other shoe drop.

“And what were you thinking, espousing yourself without your family in attendance?” Thranduil demanded of his son. “I had not thought I would miss your binding of all my children!”

Legolas meekly replied: “Forgive me, Ada”—Papa—“but I did this to keep Elrohir from further suffering.” He glanced at his Elf-knight, a flicker of regret in his eyes. “I had kept him waiting far too long as it was.”

Thranduil snorted. “Aye, that you did, ion nîn”—my son—he chided. “I had wondered if you would ever discover what was right under your nose. Or if you would have the sense to appreciate it.”

Legolas turned a bright red at his sire’s unexpected response while to his right, Elrohir carefully suppressed a smile though his eyes danced with delight. His mirth was mirrored in his brother and law-sister’s faces as they, too, strove to maintain their composure. Yet that was near impossible when beside them, Melthoron and Brethildor were softly chortling at their youngest brother’s discomfiture.

“I will admit to blindness,” Legolas managed to say as he glared at his older siblings.

“Not to mention willfulness and a determination to stick to your chosen path however absurd it may have been,” Thranduil mildly reproached him. “And do not say I did not counsel you for I did have words with you before you departed for Ithilien.”

Melthoron looked at his father in surprise. “Why, Adar, what did you say to him?”

Thranduil shrugged elegantly. “Only that ignorance of the truth would bring him naught but useless heartache.” He regarded Legolas somewhat sternly. “And I was right, was I not? To have one’s heart broken after it has known bliss is undeniably painful. But for it to break out of loneliness...that is a greater tragedy.”

He softened and cupped his son’s chin with affection. “I am only relieved that you will not be alone any longer, Legolas,” he quietly said. “I had feared that you would never know the joys of sharing your life with another. With Elrohir.”

Elrohir gazed at his law-father with amazement. “Thank you, Adar,” he softly said.

But Legolas stared at his sire in astonishment. “You desired this?”

“I would not be much of a father if I did not wish only the best for my children, now would I?” the Elvenking pointed out. He suddenly grinned, casting regal dignity aside. “And knowing how stubborn you can be, I warrant only Elrohir would ever be willing to put up with you for eternity!”

This time the others gave in to their mirth while Legolas could only frown at them. But his displeasure was swiftly dispersed when Elrohir put a soothing arm around his waist and said: “I would not have you any other way, Calenlass.”

Elladan’s muffled groan drew a collective smirk from the family. Thranduil chuckled then inquired of Elrohir: “But how is Arwen and her new babe? Another daughter I understand.”

Elrohir smiled. “They are well, Adar, though I never expected to deliver my own sister’s infant the morning after my binding.”

“Well, thank Eru she did not birth in the middle of the ceremony,” Legolas said. “‘Twas my greatest fear.”

“And your king-brother? How is he weathering fathering yet another maid-child?”

This time Elrohir had to guffaw. “Not very well at all,” he snickered. “He loves them all dearly but he now dreads having to guard each and every one’s virtue.”

Thranduil had to smile, remembering when he’d been over-protective of his only daughter. He addressed Legolas. “I have had your quarters enlarged and refurbished now that you are wed. I suggest you and Elrohir take your rest. I expect you to join us for dinner.” As an afterthought, he added: “And I expect you to be punctual!”

Legolas colored anew at his father’s meaning and shook his head as he watched his sire stride back into his halls, his older sons in tow.

“I cannot quite believe this,” he remarked. “I did not expect it at all.”

Elladan chuckled. “You do not give your father enough credit then.”

It was then that an Elf stepped into the archer’s line of vision. He sucked in his breath as he recognized the Rivendell warrior. Enedrion.

Legolas tensed as Enedrion approached Daurin. More than two hundred years ago he had witnessed the painful parting of ways between the two Elves. He wondered how the two had gotten along especially after Daurin married the reason for their parting. Therefore, he was understandably taken aback when Daurin smiled at Enedrion and drew him into his arms in the manner of a lover relieved to be home. And he was even more surprised when the embrace was fervently returned.

The prince stared after the two Elves as they walked away, Daurin’s arm around Enedrion’s shoulders in an obviously possessive manner. He turned to look incredulously at the twins.

“But he is wed to Almáriel!” he blurted out.

Elrohir shook his head. “Did I not tell you? Daurin and Almáriel had a most spectacular quarrel right after you departed on the Quest.”

"'Twas about the most inconsequential matter. We cannot even recall what it was they fought about,” added Elladan. “But it was so severe that they broke their betrothal even before we left to join you in Rohan.”

“Hence his return to Enedrion,” finished Elrohir.

Legolas let his breath out in disbelief. “And is Daurin certain about his choice now?” he asked somewhat sceptically. “I would have thought that Enedrion would be wary of entrusting his heart once more to such fickleness.”

Elladan grinned. “Oh, but he was, Legolas. He made Daurin labor long and hard to regain his trust!”

"'Twas truly entertaining to watch Daurin in his toils,” Elrohir chuckled. “I doubt there has ever been a more difficult wooing than that which our good captain had to undertake.”

“Save yours,” Legolas murmured, with a sidelong glance at his mate.

Elrohir smiled. “And like Daurin I have found my reward,” he chuckled softly. “Though I count myself the more blessed.”

Elladan sighed in mock exasperation as the two shared an all too familiar look. Nimeithel, however, looked patently puzzled. But then she did not know about the incident that had once parted the Imladrin warriors.

“Would you care to explain to me what you are talking about?” she pointedly requested of her husband.

Elladan laughed softly and slid an arm around her waist. “Come, meleth nîn”—my love—“I will tell you the tale,” he said. “I wager these two would like some privacy anyway. Never have I known other Elves who would tumble into bed at the slightest excuse!”

“You were no laggard either when you and Nimeithel were newly wed,” retorted Legolas, scowling in response to his sister’s giggles.

“Ai, but we were still getting to know each other back then,” Elladan countered virtuously. “You, on the other hand, already know all that there is to know about each other! What reason have either of you to be so eager?”

“No different from yours, brother,” Elrohir shot back. “Newly wedded you may have been but newly bedded, nay! Think you I did not mark your empty bed when we visited Greenwood? I wager you frequented a certain Elf-maiden’s chambers instead!”

It was Elladan’s and Nimeithel’s turn to redden while Legolas stared at them in shock.

“You were bedding my sister all those years?!” he bellowed, oblivious of the Elves around them.

“Now, now, tôr vell”—dear brother—Nimeithel laughed nervously. “You and Elrohir did much the same thing after all.”

"'Twas not the same thing, thel neth!”—younger sister!—Legolas fumed.

Elladan rolled his eyes and muttered, “Thank you, gwanneth”— younger twin—“you’ve really done it this time!”

“Don’t I always?” Elrohir sweetly responded. Taking Legolas by the arm, he said, “The field was plowed long ere anyone suspected, Calenlass.”

Grinning, he watched as Nimeithel hastily hustled Elladan away to the relative safety of their bedchamber. He added roguishly, making sure his voice carried to his brother, “Believe it not when they claim temperance now. I warrant they are as eager for bed as we are and on the slightest excuse as well.”

Seeing the tips of Elladan’s ears turn an improbable shade of red more than eased Legolas’ fit of pique. He chuckled then turned to Elrohir, one darkly golden eyebrow raised in question.

“As eager as we are?” he smirked.

Elrohir turned gleaming silver eyes on him. “Always, melethron”— lover —he huskily informed him. And with a salacious grin, he purposefully led Legolas to their own chamber.

Two evenings later, Elladan came to their room bearing a rather large package. As soon as Elrohir saw it, his eyes lit with elation.

“Is this it?” he asked.

“Aye, it just arrived,” Elladan affirmed. “I sent for it as soon as I read your letter.”

Legolas watched the brethren curiously as Elladan handed the package over to Elrohir. His eyes widened as the younger twin eased out a thick leather-bound artist’s sketchbook; it looked awfully familiar. Elrohir swiftly leafed through the pages then stopped and beamed happily. Glancing up at Legolas, he turned the book around and presented it to the prince.

Legolas caught his breath in wonder. There, still well preserved after three thousand years, was the charcoal sketch Elrohir had drawn of him after that bracing swim in the Bruinen during his first visit to Rivendell. The picture captured the Elf-prince in all his youthful beauty and grace as he idly leaned back against a willow wearing naught but his breeches, his shining hair falling about his neck and shoulders like molten tendrils of gold. The tender attention to detail, the almost worshipful rendering of the image betrayed all too clearly in hindsight what had not been readily apparent at the time. He looked up at Elrohir, his eyes glistening tellingly.

“Even then you loved me,” he whispered.

Elrohir nodded. “But even I did not realize it at the time,” he murmured.

“I did,” Elladan remarked softly. “Though you denied it, gwanneth, I suspected your feelings ran deeper than mere affection for a dear friend.”

Elrohir smiled at his twin. “Aye, you did. And well do I remember your insinuations at the time.”

He looked back at Legolas when the other took his hand. The prince wordlessly pulled him into his arms and held him tight. With a fond grin, Elladan quietly took his leave.

*******

The next few days found the newlyweds out in the forest with a hunting party. Thranduil had not been about to let Legolas’ espousal go uncelebrated and so a great banquet was to take place in a few days time. The hunters had been tasked to procure game for the feast. Missing the thrill of the chase in the thickly packed green wood, Legolas and Elrohir eagerly joined the party.

Now they were on their way back bearing a plentiful supply of game. The evening would see this bounty gracing the banquet table when the Elvenking feted his youngest son and law-son.

The group stopped for the noonday meal by a sparkling stream. A simple repast of bread and cheese and fruit was passed around and flasks of wine and ale were produced to quench their thirsts. Elrohir glanced up at Legolas as the prince placed a hand on his shoulder. A simple gesture communicated the fair-haired Elf’s desire.

Elrohir smiled, rose to his feet and followed him, both slipping away so discreetly few marked their going. Like all lately espoused couples, they oft sought to spend time alone in each other’s company. That Legolas frequently initiated such moments was a source of felicity for Elrohir considering all the uncertainty of their tumultuous courtship.

They settled within shouting distance of the other Elves in a small glade near the other end of the stream. They ate quietly, enjoying each other’s company even without the benefit of steady conversation. But when they finished their meal, the Elven prince suddenly spoke up.

“Elrohir.”

“Hmm?”

The archer took a deep breath. “I have never told you this for in my idiocy I feared the power my admission might give you over me. But after seeing that sketch once more and knowing how you felt even so long ago... I can no longer hide this from you.”

Elrohir regarded him gravely. “And what secret is this?”

The look Legolas cast at him took his breath away. It was soft and yielding and utterly loving. “Do you remember our very first time in Mirkwood?” he said.

“How could I forget?” Elrohir smiled. “Every detail of that night is engraved in my memory.”

“I would say the same for myself,” Legolas replied. “And every other time you loved me that week and all the times thereafter up to this day.” He watched a sable eyebrow rise in surprise. “Even the one instance when you nearly took me by force.”

“That is one instance I would rather not recall,” Elrohir admitted with a grimace.

“Yet even that memory I cherish,” the prince said in a low voice. Elrohir started then stared at him in shock. The golden-haired Elf turned rather rosy. He reached for Elrohir’s hand. “I told you long ago that I had learned to desire the pleasure you gave me. Do you recall that?” he said, suddenly sounding quite shy. Elrohir nodded, wondering what the archer was leading up to. “That was not quite the whole truth,” Legolas murmured. “All these centuries, ‘twas not the pleasure that I desired but – but you, Elrohir.”

Elrohir went utterly still at his mate’s confession. Turning even more scarlet at the Elf-knight’s surprisingly impassive countenance, Legolas went on as bravely as he could manage. “I have never known such joy and ecstasy as I have experienced in your arms. I do not know what you do to me. I only know that you alone can undo me even with a look or a word or a simple touch. Not any of the maids I have ever lain with or any ellon that sought my favor has done this to me.”

Elrohir smiled faintly. “‘Tis flattering that you think thusly of me. But mayhap the comparison is not fair. A maid’s loving is vastly different from a male’s; more silk than steel you might say. And as for other ellyn”—male Elves—“you have never lain with another. How can you compare any with me?”

Legolas shook his head. “The loving of a maid is not quite the same, aye, but if ‘tis mere skill we speak of, my response should not be much different. Yet it is. And as for other ellyn, I desired none other than you. Not even in Lórien did I wish to bed another though their warriors are admittedly among the most beauteous in Middle-earth. I simply did not crave male-flesh unless ‘twas yours.” He paused, wondering about Elrohir’s thoughtful expression. “Only you educed these feelings, Aduial, and I found it frightening. And so I denied it...even to myself.”

“And now?”

“Now I long for your presence, your nearness. ‘Tis even more frightening to be without your love, without your loving,” the archer replied. “I know ‘tis late in coming but I would have you know this, melethron.”

Elrohir fell silent for a space. Legolas wondered if he had offended his mate by admitting he had not fully trusted him. But the twin began to stroke his palm soothingly with his thumb and the gesture eased the prince’s anxiety.

At length, Elrohir looked at him, his grey eyes sparkling with a strange light. “I did know it,” he said finally. “Not in our earlier encounters, nay; that truly surprises me. But from the moment you responded to my kiss on Mindolluin, I knew then that your body was mine to do with as I pleased even when your heart remained guarded.”

It was the archer’s turn to stare in surprise. Elrohir smiled slightly. “I knew it but I did not wish your desire to be your sole reason to be with me. I wanted you to come to me in love. And I wanted your love unfettered by doubts or conditions.”

Legolas let his breath out slowly. “You always did know me so well.”

“Not always,” Elrohir gently demurred. “I was not sure if your willingness to lie with me was out of mere lust or unbidden love. I never was certain until you told me.”

“Another admission late in coming,” Legolas murmured. “I was such a fool.”

Elrohir shook his head. “You were afraid. ‘Twas but natural for you to hide your feelings from me. The one thing I find fault with is that you did not trust me not to use them against you. I would remind you that I was your friend and brother ere I was your lover.”

Legolas nodded and bit his lip. “I will not forget that again,” he said. “I only wish I had been wiser. You would not have had to wait so long for me to open my heart to you.”

“I did not mind. As long as I had hope, I was willing to wait.”

Legolas gazed at him with wonder. Recalling how Elrohir had given up when he had lost hope, he felt a shiver of fear at what had nearly happened followed by a wave of relief at what had eventually come to pass.

“Thank the Powers you did!” he said fervently.

Elrohir found himself on his back on the grass with an armful of doting Elf atop him. He softly laughed as the prince scattered light, warm kisses on his face and neck before his laughter was cut off by a considerably warmer and deeper caress to his lips. The warrior’s eyes gleamed as the archer drew slightly away.

“If you do not wish for me to take you here and now, you had best desist, ernilen”—my prince—he said warningly.

Legolas chuckled. “We are but a short distance from the others,” he said scoffingly. “Even you would not dare.”

“If you believe that then you do not know me that well after all,” the twin countered, with a squeeze to the princely rear for emphasis.

Legolas stared down at him, suddenly uncertain. Suddenly wary, he hastily pushed up and moved off the Elf-lord to rise to his feet. But as he did so, his leg inadvertently brushed Elrohir’s groin. The twin tensed as his body reacted to the contact. Legolas compounded his error by turning away and bending over to pick up their drinking flasks and the remains of their meal. In doing so, he presented a view to the twin that proved all too irresistible.

Uttering a muffled curse, Elrohir threw restraint to the figurative wind and gave in to the exigencies of the moment.

Legolas half yelped as he was hauled back down by the waist. Landing atop Elrohir once more, he was summarily silenced by a devouring kiss. Legolas gasped against the Elf-knight’s lips as nimble fingers efficiently and swiftly yanked off his belt, undid clasps, tore at lacings and tugged at loops, all while he was still sprawled over him and their mouths sealed together. How Elrohir accomplished this feat he would never know nor did he have enough coherent thought to figure it out.

He was rolled over, his shirt and tunic flung open and his breeches and boots unceremoniously yanked off before he had time to take more than a couple of ragged breaths. Slipping between his stunned spouse’s outspread legs, Elrohir did not bother to take off his own breeches but simply freed himself of their constraint.

Bestowing a wicked smile on the shocked prince, he slipped his hands under the royal bottom and, lifting it purposefully, said: “You should know better than to present such a temptation to me, Calenlass. This fairly begs to be pillaged and I am of no mind to refuse.”

The sounds of merriment seemed overly, awfully near as Elrohir made good his threat and took him within earshot of the other hunters. Between frantically stifling his passionate moans and desperately praying no one would stumble upon them, Legolas found himself seriously befuddled and bereft of clear purpose.

Mercifully, his prayers were answered and no one wandered into the vicinity though he only barely managed to strangle a rough cry as the Elf-knight delivered him into breath-stealing rapture. And then he was groaning with delight as he felt the familiar and oh so sensual sensation of Elrohir’s heated release spilling deep within him.

After they had both calmed down a bit, Elrohir lay on his back and pulled Legolas into his arms that the prince might rest his head on his shoulder. Legolas pressed closer, for the moment uncaring of his state of dishabille, conscious only of a lovely sense of well being. Who would have imagined he could enjoy an unexpected joining under such unsecured circumstances and one that had been so peremptorily imposed upon him? The last notion yanked him out of his musings.

He jerked up his tousled head and stared at Elrohir. The Elf-knight looked back at him, a dark eyebrow going up in inquiry.

“You – you’ve never done this before!” Legolas said in disbelief. “You’ve always sought my willingness first, even that one time when you near forced me.”

A slow smile lit up the warrior’s face. “You were not mine before,” he simply said.

Legolas drew his breath in sharply. “You did not feel you had the right?”

“I did not have the right,” Elrohir averred. “Until you gave me your heart, I could not take more liberties with you than you were willing to allow me.” He stroked one flushed cheek with his knuckles then tucked a gold strand behind an ear. “To take you against your desire would have been a flagrant abuse of your trust.”

The prince gazed at him with reverent wonder. The depth and purity of Elrohir’s love made him feel more blessed than he’d ever thought possible.

“Others would have had no scruples had they thought me vulnerable,” he softly said. “But you...” Emotion swept over him in an overwhelming wave and he pulled the Elf-knight tightly to him, letting his affection and joy wash over the other until Elrohir was quite overcome. His grey eyes glittered brightly when the archer released him.

“What is it?” Legolas queried softly.

“I was wondering,” Elrohir whispered. “Is it possible for an Elf to die of too much happiness?”

He was rewarded with the sweetest of smiles and the warmest of kisses.

Their departure had largely gone unmarked. Their return did not. It could not be for they radiated so much bliss that they could not fail to attract attention. And the glow of satisfaction and intimacy around them was such that only the most obtuse Elf would not have realized what had passed between them. Surreptitious grins were seen to form on most faces at this patent evidence of the two princes’ devotion to each other. Others managed tolerant smiles at the very least.

After all, what Elf could long resist the charm of such deep and heartfelt happiness and contentment?

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

Glossary:

Narbeleth - Sindarin for October

ellon - male Elf

Edhil - Elves

Adar - Father

Calenlass - Greenleaf

Aduial - Twilight

To be continued…
- 20
- 21
- 22
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Greenleaf&Imladris 20-Calenlass: Heart of a Prince