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Twilight Tales - An Ounce of Kindness	By : MPB Category: -Multi-Age > General Views: 26418 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- 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 XXII

It was Elrohir's smile that he particularly missed, Legolas realized in the weeks following their tentative reunion. His intoxicating, unguarded lover's smile that Legolas had basked in, secure in the knowledge that it was for him alone. Now it was seldom in evidence and even then it was but a shadow of its former radiance.

Part of its dimming stemmed from Elrohir's dearly bought restraint. The Elf-knight was taking no chances that some unwitting gesture on his part should entice Legolas into pressing for more intimacy than either was ready for at this point in time. That had clouded their full understanding of each other previously. He would not allow it to do so again and squander this precious second chance. But Legolas knew there was yet another reason for his muted cheer.

When he saw Elrohir bestow upon others that same smile albeit shorn of the emotion that had distinguished it as an expression of his sole regard for Legolas, the woodland prince could not help but be saddened. For so long as it did not grace Elrohir's lips in replete guise it meant that their relationship had not yet wholly mended. The Elf-knight would not withhold so vital a part of himself otherwise. Aye, even if he were to suddenly bed Legolas now, the prince knew their union would not be complete. Not if their bodies were coupled but not their hearts or spirits. And how could either be if Elrohir still guarded his out of a wariness of what could befall them if their attempt to reconcile failed or, worse, their renewed relationship came to naught again.

Yet though unsure Elrohir may have been of withstanding another parting should he err once more, his heart Legolas knew with all confidence was his. Elrohir loved him dearly, that went without saying, and evinced his love in just about everything he said and did that pertained to the archer.

Curled up before the fire in Elrohir's room the first winter's eve of his reconciliatory sojourn in the valley, he gazed up at the painting that hung on the wall above the hearth. His colorful child's rendition of long ago of the fabled valley and the house the Peredhil had built still graced Elrohir's wall and never had the Elf-knight taken it down, not even during the two years of their estrangement. It had given him great comfort then, he quietly told Legolas when the archer questioned him about it the previous week, and he would never barter it even for the greatest treasures in Middle-earth.

He'd proved it that late autumn morn. A delegation from Arnor had arrived bearing works of Númenorean art from before the fall of the Land of the Star, harking back to the days when that westernmost of the mortal lands had established havens and colonies in the south of Middle-earth. In later days, when Elendil and his sons had returned and founded their realms in exile, these treasures were presented to them. Some remained in Gondor but others were taken to the Northern Kingdom of Arnor. The new king Eldacar had decided that some of the paintings in his possession were in need of restoration while the rest ought to be preserved for future ages. The Elves were acknowledged masters of both procedures and so to Rivendell the paintings had been sent.

Amongst these had been a few splendid pieces depicting the everyday lives of members of the royal family down through the ages. Eldacar had bidden that they be given to his elven kinsfolk as gifts. They were fairly personal in nature and not meant to be displayed in a public gallery. Elrond had offered his sons their pick of these portraits to be hung in pride of place atop their bedchamber mantles. But to everyone's surprise the younger twin declined.

“Do you not wish for a masterpiece such as this to grace your wall?” Celebrían asked while smoothing a white hand over a wondrous portrait of Elros surrounded by his grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Elrond's eyes glistened at this image of his long deceased twin, still so alike to him even in his fourth century though already showing signs of his great age.

Elrohir shook his head and with a small smile replied, “Nay, I already have one of even greater worth and beauty.”

All eyes had fallen upon Legolas and the archer had blushed to the roots of his hair as much out of pleasure as embarrassment at their knowing regard. Still he had thought to persuade Elrohir to reconsider his decision for such priceless pieces were not to be scoffed at. Needless to say, the Elf-knight's answer had warmed his heart through and through.

And so, though it grieved him at times that his Elf-knight still held back a part of himself, he continued to hope and do his share in replenishing their once enviable bond. In this fashion did the winter pass, their mutual courtship as gradual and gentle as it had been during autumn.

Spring however brought about a difference in the pattern of their days. As soon as the snow melted, the weather warmed and the days grew brighter, Elrohir began to spend hours away on his own some three or four days a week. Legolas wondered if he passed those hours in his secret place by the tributary brook. And swiftly on the heels of his suspicions followed hurt and worry as he pondered why the Elf-knight had not seen fit to ask him to join him for these lengthy jaunts.

He had done the same at certain times during the previous autumn but Legolas had not made much of it then. They had just begun their passage toward healing and the archer had reckoned his lover needed time alone to order his thoughts and feelings. And so he had not questioned Elrohir when the latter took off for a whole morning or afternoon without him. With winter's advent, Elrohir's solitary northward rides had ceased and Legolas had assumed that they had stopped altogether. He'd been quite disconcerted to discover that this was not so.

A fortnight later, when Elrohir rode off north once more without asking him along, Legolas decided enough was enough. He needed to know just where the Elf-knight took himself on this solo jaunts and, more important, why. Not permitting his misgivings time to dissuade him, he mounted his horse and hastened after Elrohir.

His instincts proved true when he espied faithful Uilos tethered to the outer trees of the hidden glade. Reigning in his horse, he was surprised to hear the unexpected sound of splitting wood resounding from the clearing. Silent as a wraith, he dismounted, left his horse by the snowy Elf-steed and crept toward the glade.

The sight that greeted his eyes was wholly unexpected. The sound of splitting wood was explained soon enough when he espied Elrohir in the middle of the clearing, stripped to the waist, measuring a slender log's length ere hefting an axe to chop the wood into two equal pieces. To one side lay a pile of more split logs, already shorn of their rough bark, their surfaces sanded to a smooth turn.

Behind Elrohir was an even greater reason for Legolas' graceless gape. For there beneath the spreading branches of an elm was a wooden structure that could be no other than a cabin in the making. Already two sides had been erected while the front wall was halfway done. The pieces Elrohir was hewing were apparently for its completion. Legolas could not quite suppress a huff of disbelief and thereby betrayed himself to the younger twin.

Realizing he was discovered, he rose from cover as Elrohir set aside his axe and turned to await his approach. Legolas boldly strode forward, determined to glean an explanation from his reticent lover.

“More secrets, Elf-knight?” he mildly inquired, his eyes on the half-finished cabin.

Elrohir smiled faintly. “How else can one keep a gift a surprise?” he countered good-naturedly.

Legolas stared at him. “A gift?” he repeated. Again his eyes strayed to the cabin. “For what occasion?”

Elrohir's smile turned just the least bit unsure. “No occasion,” he murmured. “Merely an expression of hope for the future.”

The prince caught his breath. “When did you start to build it?” he asked in a hushed voice.

“Upon my return here last summer. I needed to do something to distract myself,” Elrohir quietly replied. There was no need to elaborate about what he had needed distraction from. He walked to the cabin and Legolas followed. The archer watched as the Elf-knight ran a hand over the half-finished front wall, his fingers caressing the wood. “I thought to build myself a retreat where I might hide myself when the grief became too great to keep from the others, especially Elladan.”

Legolas felt his eyes sting with unshed tears and he came up behind Elrohir to slide his arms around his waist and lean his head on his shoulder. Elrohir covered his linked hands with his own reassuringly.

“Then you came and I knew hope once more,” he continued softly. “But I confess I was still afraid that it might yet be dashed and I knew I could not endure it should I lose you again.” He drew a shaky breath when Legolas tightened his hold on him. “I would come here when my fears overtook me. It soothed me and bolstered my courage. But this past winter, it seemed that I could hope in earnest. That I would not lose you after all. It was then that I thought to make a gift of this to you.”

Legolas came around to face him, his arms still fast about him. “How could you lose me when I came here to claim you anew?” he whispered.

Forestalling further words from the Elf-knight, he sealed their lips together, giving his feelings free rein that Elrohir might know the depth of them. Heat flickered then flared between them as restraint momentarily gave way to passion. Legolas shuddered when he became aware of Elrohir's bare flesh against his palms and fingertips and the singular scent of his Peredhel love unconfined by clothing. He would have pressed for more had Elrohir not collected himself and with an effort broke off their kiss.

“Legolas,” he gently cautioned.

The prince knew a stab of disappointment but did not force his desire on the twin. They had come so far and rebuilt so much it would be foolish to undo all they had achieved because of untimely lust. He nodded and drew out of their embrace. But he did not unclasp their hands and neither did Elrohir.

After drawing a steadying breath, he gestured to the cabin. “May I?” he inquired.

Elrohir smiled and led him into the structure. It was a one-room cabin wrought completely of wood save for the small stone and mortar fireplace and chimney to the back. Of Silvan design and construction, each wall of the cabin had a wide window to let in light and air and Legolas knew the roofing would be of several layers of thatching woven together so tightly it would keep out rain and snow. No nails held together the logs that formed the walls or the planks that made the flooring but rather, in Wood-elven fashion, each piece had been cut and shaped to fit precisely into the whole, then lashed together with twine or rope for further stability. He fingered an unfamiliar gray cord that Elrohir had used for binding in some areas. It was unusually thin for rope and surprisingly silky to the touch.

“I have not seen such rope before,” he commented. “Is it strong enough for this purpose?”

“It is made of hithlain,” Elrohir replied. “And indeed 'tis stronger than common rope for all its slenderness. The Galadhrim instructed Elladan and me in its making during our last sojourn in Lothlórien.”

Legolas shook his head in some awe. “I assume 'twas also in Lothlórien that you learned to build in the Silvan manner?”

Elrohir nodded. “You are sprung from the same stock and there are few differences between your way and theirs, mostly in design I think for they raise their houses on telain while your folk build your homes into the very trees themselves. And the Galadhrim keep no buildings on the ground as you do. But otherwise, there is no mistaking your shared heritage.”

“Fascinating,” Legolas murmured. He noted a wooden partition that separated a small area from the rest of the room. It was toward the still unfinished wall. The view was of the bubbling brook and Legolas thought it a pity that a wall should block it from sight.

Elrohir seemed to divine his opinion for he said: “I was thinking of building a porch on that side. And instead of a solid wall, I thought sliding panels would be a better option. 'Tis a lovely view and one we might appreciate from the comfort of our bed. What say you, my prince?”

Legolas looked at the partitioned area again, recognizing it now for a sleeping alcove. It was large enough for a wide bed meant for two. He swung around and stared at Elrohir in elation.

“Aye, it would indeed be lovely,” he eagerly replied, eliciting a chuckle from the Elf-knight.

“A porch it is then,” Elrohir grinned.

They went out into the clearing once more. Legolas looked back at the cabin longingly. “Elrohir?”

The younger twin paused in his stride and glanced at him inquisitively. Legolas gazed at the cabin, his eyes limpid with delight.

“Let me help you,” he said. He turned a radiant smile on Elrohir. “Let us share this task, rochiren.”-my knight. “I would cherish evermore the fruit of our joint efforts.”

Elrohir considered the request, mithril eyes thoughtful. And then they glittered and he picked up the axe and tossed it to Legolas. The woodland prince caught it with a grin. Setting the axe atop the pile of logs, he swiftly shed his tunic and shirt and hung it beside Elrohir's raiment on a low-lying branch of a nearby tree. He could not help a slight blush when Elrohir eyed him appreciatively before the younger twin bent to select an adz from his tools and set to trimming the logs he had earlier cut.

With two now at work on the cabin it stood to reason that the pace of its construction would pick up. And indeed it did so swiftly that scarcely two weeks passed ere they progressed to the making or obtaining of furnishings. With their own hands, they fashioned a small dining table and two chairs, a narrow kitchen counter and its overhanging cupboard, a long bench for the porch and a simple wardrobe. But best of all in Legolas' opinion was the wide bed meant for a couple that he helped Elrohir build. It came to embody his hopes of an eternal future with the Elf-knight.

Beddings, rugs and hangings they acquired from the traders of the valley, giving many a storekeeper reason to smile indulgently, especially when it became known that they had purchased a large feather mattress. It was quite natural for all to assume that said acquisitions would be making their way to one or the other's bedchamber. The notion swiftly gave rise to talk of an impending renewal of their troth.

Elladan got wind of the matter first of the residents of the Last Homely House. He wasted no time cornering his twin and mercilessly quizzed him about it. Elrohir unbent so far as to admit that he and Legolas were creating a haven for themselves but he did not reveal either its nature or location and Elladan pressed no further. After all, there were secrets that were meant to be kept between lovers alone. And so he guarded what he knew of theirs even from their parents, secure in the knowledge that Elrohir would do the same for him.

Thus it was nigh the end of spring when the pair's task was done and they could step back and regard their handiwork with utmost satisfaction. It was a spare abode but not devoid of beauty or charm for there was scarcely a thing of elven make that could not claim either. The windows were left open for the most part but, in inclement weather, sturdy shutters would keep the elements out. Almost the entire wall by the sleeping alcove was composed of wooden panels that slid to either side to provide an unobstructed view of the sparkling brook. Legolas had painstakingly etched images of different flora and fauna into the fine wood. Scattered rugs and wall hangings in the vivid hues favored by the Wood-elves lent warmth and character to the great room, as did the quilted dark blue and bottle green counterpane that covered the bed.

“'Tis passing strange that when I finally take part in the building of a Silvan home, it is not in fair Greenwood but within the bounds of a Noldorin stronghold,” Legolas wryly commented as he gazed in some awe at the cabin.

The afternoon of the house's completion, they had settled in the shade of the nearest tree that they could contemplate their achievement in cool comfort. Leaning against the trunk, Elrohir had offered his lap to pillow Legolas' head and the archer had happily accepted. He now lay in languid contentment on the grass, his eyes oft alighting on the product of their labor.

“But you are proud of yourself, yes?” Elrohir pointed out. “To create something with one's own hands is an accomplishment of worth.”

“Oh aye, I am proud indeed. Of both of us.” Legolas glanced once more at the cabin and was struck all over again by its simple beauty and homely elegance. “Ah, I so look forward to making use of it, Elrohir!”

To his amazement, Elrohir suddenly laughed and his mouth widened into a smile of such open affection that the sight stole Legolas' breath from his very lungs. There was that smile, the one meant for him alone. He swallowed hard, mesmerized by the sheer comeliness of his Elf-knight's cheerful visage.

“What is so amusing?” he managed to ask.

“I think I can guess what in particular you are looking forward to putting to good use,” Elrohir gibed.

Legolas's cheeks turned crimson and he swatted the younger twin's arm. “What of it?” he retorted mumblingly. “Do you not feel the same way?”

“Think you I would have provided space for a bed for two if I did not?” Elrohir replied with a rakish grin.

Legolas gaped at him a moment. “Then - then when?” he inquired almost not daring to hope.

Elrohir smirked. “That will depend on how soon you can get your sire to come here.”

That threw the archer into utter confusion. “What does Father have to do with this?!”

“He would not be pleased were you to wed in his absence, now would he,” Elrohir said.

Legolas stared at him. “Wed?” he repeated weakly.

“You agreed to bind to me upon your 50th year, ernil daur”-forest prince-the younger twin reminded him. “I intend to hold you to your pledge. Or have you changed your mind?”

It was several seconds before Legolas found his tongue. “Nay!” he gasped at last. “'Tis what I have been awaiting from you all these months.” He hesitated then looked up uncertainly. “But - but you, Elrohir? Are you truly ready?”

“More than ready, lassen vell”-my dear leaf-Elrohir murmured. He took Legolas' left hand in his right and lifted it to his lips to press warm kisses to its palm.

The prince's breath hitched at the intimate gesture. It was then that he saw the glint of silver on Elrohir's right index finger. He stared at it in disbelief. When Elrohir released his hand, he quickly placed it upon the Elf-knight's breast. He gazed pleadingly at his beloved when his fingers felt nothing where once two bands had rested.

“Where?” he all but croaked.

The young warrior's eyes shone with argent fire. Holding Legolas' rapt gaze, he took the archer's right hand. Legolas held his breath as a beauteous band of silver was slipped onto his forefinger. For a wordless space, they stayed thus, their hands clasped, their betrothal rings gleaming in the filtered light. A single tear slid down the prince's cheek while a grateful smile spread across his lips.

Elrohir gathered him up in his arms and brought their mouths together in a kiss of such ferocious passion that it left them both panting in its wake. Legolas clung to him in almost feverish zeal, relieved as much as joyous that their rift was healed and their hearts and spirits utterly open to each other once more.

He sighed in bliss when Elrohir released his lips but held him close, their foreheads touching. “Shall we please your father and wait until we are bound?” the Elf-knight softly queried.

Legolas took a moment to consider the suggestion though he was sorely tempted to say no and ask that they consummate their love forthwith. But the thought of lying with his Elf-knight as his binding-mate suddenly thrilled him to his very core and he knew it would make their first union all the more special. For they would be joining their whole selves, not merely their bodies. They would at last be as fate had decreed - two hearts made one and their love sealed with the coupling of their bodies.

“Aye, I shall write him at once,” he whispered, sapphire eyes ablaze with anticipation. He lifted his lips to Elrohir's once more and moaned in pleasure when they were hungrily claimed.

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Glossary:

Peredhil (sing. Peredhel) - Half-elf/Half-elven

hithlain - strong gray silky substance used by the Elves of Lórien in the making of their rope

Galadhrim - 'tree-people', the Silvan Elves of the Land of Lothlórien

telain (sing. talan) - tree-platforms or 'flets' built by the Lórien Elves

counterpane - a cover for a bed

To be continued…
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- 23
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Twilight Tales - An Ounce of Kindness