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Greenleaf & Imladris 5 - Sorrow's First Dawning	By : MPB Category: -Multi-Age > General Views: 3868 -:- 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-Part 1
- 2-Part 2
- 3-Part 3
- 4-Part 4
- 5-Part 5
- 6-Part 6
- 7-Part 7
- 2
- 3
- 4
Part III

Imladris, Urimë TA 1052

Legolas ran water into a tub in the bathing rooms. They had arrived in Rivendell just in time for the evening meal. Immediately after dinner, he’d asked leave to go to his bedchamber. His request had been granted but Elrond had suggested he take a hot bath to relax himself before attempting to settle in for the night.

It was a sensible suggestion. Legolas had not had a decent night’s sleep during the entire journey from Mirkwood to the hidden vale. Not even his waking dreams had brought him enough respite to revive his flagging spirit. Indeed, he had not had a decent night’s sleep or restful reverie since... He resolutely pushed the memory from his mind. It was precisely what had plagued him these past many months. What had prompted his father to place him in Elrond’s benign custody.

As he shed his clothes, he thought back a little guiltily to his recent behavior toward the twins. They had been most patient with him from the first day in Mirkwood all the way through the trip over the mountains to Imladris, stoically enduring his taciturn behavior, his tendency to snap at them even for the least provocation and his refusal to let them give him adequate comfort for his bereavement. Elrohir especially had been almost painfully understanding, refusing to let the prince’s dark moods affect him to the point of losing his temper even when said dark moods led the prince to insult or offend him more oft than not. Legolas flushed uncomfortably.

It was easy to pick on Elrohir. The younger twin was so open with him, put so much trust in him that he hid nothing from Legolas, not even his most grievous faults. Consequently, the archer had a veritable arsenal of verbal weapons he could employ against the Elf-knight if he so chose. Regrettably, he had and though he’d also been quick to apologize each time he'd hurt his friend, it did not change the fact that Elrohir had done nothing whatsoever to merit such treatment nor did it lessen the reprehensiveness of repeatedly breaking the darkling Elf’s trust by using his own confidences against him. But Elrohir remained steadfast, even defending him against a naturally indignant Elladan on several occasions.

Legolas sighed. There lay the difference between his respective relationships with the twins. They were both close to him, so close that in the century just past, they had taken him in as their sworn brother. He had counted it an honor and privilege that they should deem him as dear to them as their own sister to name him their gwador, or sworn brother. But Elrohir had proven the less reticent in his affections, the more perceptive and accommodating of the prince’s needs, always ready and willing to accept his flaws and still love him in spite of them.

Coupled with Elladan’s equally caring though less resounding regard, Legolas felt so complete that he found he did not crave the company of others when the twins were around. He had to admit that he thrived under such tender handling. After all, he rarely if ever received the like from his own brothers and the attentions of his sister simply were not the same as those one might expect from male siblings.

Yet I dare to mistreat them when all they desire is to help me. I must school my unruly ways lest I lose their love and that I cannot bear.

He stepped into the sunken bath, sat down in one embrasure and leaned against the tiled back. He closed his eyes and let the comforting warmth of the bath steal over him. Lord Elrond was right. The steaming water was helpful. If only he could banish the thoughts that sought to invade his peace. Even now, as he tried to unwind and keep his mind blank, upsetting memories tried to snake their way into his consciousness, threatening to thwart his efforts. He heaved a frustrated sigh as he felt his tension returning.

He was startled out of his inner struggle when sudden movement before him snared his senses. His eyes snapped open in time to see Elrohir slide into the water and settle himself opposite the prince. The twin was studying him with concern.

“Elladan and I swore to watch over you,” he explained in answer to the archer’s unspoken question.

Legolas peered at him somewhat vexedly. “Even in my bath?” he queried with caustic crispness.

Elrohir shrugged, disregarding his friend’s less than welcoming tone. “Whatever it takes,” he replied.

“And are you going to camp out in my bedchamber as well?” Legolas asked a little angrily.

Elrohir remained annoyingly composed. “Nay, Elladan has volunteered to do that,” he replied evenly.

Legolas let out an exasperated breath. “What is this? A conspiracy? I am no child in need of babysitters!”

“Of course not,” Elladan agreed as he entered the chamber, carrying a tray upon which reposed a crystal phial and a few small ceramic bowls. “You are an Elf in need of friends and that’s what we are.”

He knelt by the bath and poured the contents of some of the bowls into the water. A fragrant scent filled the air as the herbs mingled with the bath water. Elladan then emptied the remaining bowls into the bath as well and the aroma of spices soon joined the delicious herb-scented steam. Legolas breathed it in appreciatively and suddenly realized that the herbs and spices, when combined, provided a wonderfully soothing effect on his body and senses.

He could now regard his friends with a little more amiability, his good humor restored. “I am sorry for snapping at you earlier,” he told the younger twin, conscious of the inadequacy of his apology. Yet another in an embarrassingly long line of requests for forgiveness.

“No need to apologize, Calenlass,” Elrohir replied.

“But you did not have to get in with me,” Legolas could not help adding. “Surely you do not think you have to bathe me as well.”

Elrohir smiled and shook his head. "'Tis not the reason I joined you,” he said as he took the now unstoppered phial from his brother. Elladan rose to his feet and left the chamber. Legolas stared in apprehension as Elrohir moved toward him purposefully. “Turn around, ernilen.”—my prince.

Legolas hesitated then did as he was bid. Looking over his shoulder, he watched curiously as Elrohir poured a small amount of what looked like oil into his palm, placed the phial on the edge of the bath, then rubbed his hands together. The oil had a mild, rather fruity scent. Legolas almost jumped when he felt the other’s hands move over his back in firm, muscle-easing strokes.

By Elbereth, that really feels good, he thought with pleasure as the skillful fingers moved down the length of his back, seeking and soothing tight muscles along the way. He glanced up as Elladan returned bearing a goblet of mulled wine. This, the older twin handed to him.

“Sogo hen,” he ordered. Drink this.

Legolas slowly sipped the heated wine while Elrohir kneaded his right shoulder and arm, smoothing the kinks from the joints, easing the tension from the muscles. Trying to fight off the sudden languor that threatened to overtake him, he glanced quizzically at Elrohir. The twin, intent on his task, only spared him the briefest glance in reply.

“Why here?” he asked. “Could you not have waited until after my bath?”

Elrohir smiled as he poured more oil into his palm and began working on the prince’s left arm. “If you were merely tired, aye, I would have waited. But you are not only bone-weary, you are also unusually tense and ill-humored, lack sleep and are altogether in a state of great distress.”

Elladan grinned at his twin’s succinct description of the prince. “The combination of massage and healing bath works wonders, Legolas. You will sleep well tonight, we guarantee it.”

“And will you stay in my chambers to guard my slumber?” Legolas scowled. Unexpectedly, he yawned, then blinked at the older twin in surprise.

“Mayhap I won’t have to,” Elladan chuckled. “My brother’s efforts seem to be working all too well.”

“Indeed they are,” Legolas admitted ruefully. “I do not recall being this eager for bed in the longest time!”

Elrohir replied: “Then I count my efforts well worth it.” Legolas did not have to see his face to know he was smiling. “Turn around, Legolas. Just a little more then it’s off to bed with you.”

Legolas could only nod sleepily as he complied. He closed his eyes and let himself enjoy the younger twin’s attentions to his torso. It was the most relaxing massage he’d ever experienced. He could not remember anything quite like it. He distantly heard the twins’ soft banter as Elrohir finished his task.

“Ai, we will end up carrying him to his chamber,” Elladan chuckled. “I think he is already asleep.”

“Well, that is what we wanted,” Elrohir said, gratified. “Hand me the towel, gwanur.”—brother/kinsman.

Together they helped him out of the bath. He was vaguely conscious of Elrohir patting him dry while Elladan ran a comb through his hair until the damp locks fell in a smooth stream of silver gold. He managed to rouse himself long enough to allow Elrohir to dress him in a thin robe.

“Can you walk, Legolas?” the Elf-knight queried.

“Hmmm?”

Muffled laughter greeted his mumbled response. “That certainly answers your question,” Elladan chortled. “Can you manage him?”

“Easily,” Elrohir replied.

Legolas felt a slight shock when the younger twin lifted him in his arms as he would a child. “Put me down, Elrohir!” he protested drowsily. “I can walk.”

“Of course you can,” the other Elf answered humorously. “But we should like to get you into your bed before the night ends so shut up and let me carry you to your room.”

Surrendering to the sweet pull of sleep, Legolas made no further utterances but nestled into his friend’s arms and allowed himself to be borne to his chamber. There they tucked him into bed as tenderly as they would a babe before departing for their own rooms.

*******

He could not complain about the days that followed. As with all his visits to Rivendell, there was invariably something to occupy him; the twins made sure of that. They wore him out with riding, climbing, trekking and swimming as well as less physically demanding endeavors such as mind-games, art and music and even the simple but pleasurable pastime of reading.

Arwen, too, threw herself into entertaining him though her forms of distraction were distinctly feminine in nature. Since Legolas did not have the heart to reject her efforts, he perforce found himself in the kitchen ineptly rolling dough for pastry, struggling not to get hopelessly entangled whilst laboring at the loom, or helping the Elf-maiden prune Lady Celebrían’s prize roses in the flower garden by the summerhouse. Celebrían was seen to offer prayers of supplication to the Valar on these occasions and once even apologized to her beloved roses for subjecting them to such abuse. Mayhap the Powers heard her prayers or perhaps a Wood-elf’s affinity with nature’s plant-life extended even to cultivated ones for, surprisingly, the roses survived and even thrived under his care much to the lady’s relief.

Yes, he could not complain. Not really. Except for one thing.

Elrond forbade any activity of a martial nature and refused to rescind the ban even after the archer pleaded with him to reconsider. Therefore, he was not permitted to join the brethren when either or both led patrols out of Rivendell and even practice in sword or knife-play or hand-to-hand combat was judiciously curtailed.

He chafed at the decree, deplored the instances he was forced to spend in quieter pastimes especially when it meant separation from both twins at the same time. For the high-spirited Greenwood prince, such days were deemed deathly boring as his ebullience did not exactly go well with reserved Erestor or the rest of Elrond's counsellors whom he considered rather on the stodgy side. And while Glorfindel and Lindir were more to his liking personality-wise, neither could spare as much time as the twins did to keep their guest happily occupied. But he could not oppose Elrond on the matter; not when his own father had made it clear that he was to obey the Imladrin lord to the letter no matter how personally odious he might find the latter's decisions to be.

And so the days passed into a month and the month became two and then three and time went by without any incident of note. Or discernible progress. For despite the twins’ considerable exertions, Legolas kept his feelings and thoughts reined in. He still did not mourn his mother’s passing, did not confide in them the horror and grief he had known upon discovering her death, did not deviate from the disturbing pattern of erratic mood swings as he alternated between bouts of uncharacteristic snappishness, melancholic reticence and ghastly cheer.

This last was the most troubling of all for it was so patently false and forced it grated on everyone's nerves. It was all they could do not to shake him in frustration when he put on yet another smile that did not reach his eyes or uttered a jest that bore no relation to true merriment. And they would fervently wish once more that the archer would finally give in and express the bottled up emotions that fairly seethed within him. Yet the twins knew better than to force the issue. They would have to let time do its work. Time and, hopefully, their own diligence as they waited out the insidious effects of their friend’s affliction.

Meanwhile, they continued as they were, keeping him company, offering solace if he should ever seek it and stealthily checking on him in his sleep each night, never alone but with each other or some other male member of the household. Of this particular service the woodland prince remained blissfully and perhaps mercifully oblivious.

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

Glossary:

Urimë – Quenya for August
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Greenleaf & Imladris 5 - Sorrow's First Dawning