Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

Greenleaf & Imladris 9-Melethron: The Ancient Path	By : MPB Category: -Multi-Age > General Views: 2645 -:- 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
- 2
- 3
- 4
Chapter III: Disclosure

As the company made its way back to more wholesome environs, Legolas found his eyes drifting constantly to Elrohir. He had chosen to walk with another group of rangers, a matter that was so unusual it had elicited no small amount of surprise from the company. Legolas had the unhappy feeling that Elrohir was avoiding him but he could not understand why. Had he offended his friend in any way? He searched his memory but could not think of any plausible reason for the other Elf’s behavior.

Legolas glanced at Elladan who walked beside him. The older twin was also staring at Elrohir. But his expression was hard to define. His face was blank. Too blank. He was concerned about his brother, that much Legolas could tell but nothing more.

They returned to the clearing where they had spent the previous night. Once more they set up camp but this time there were no untoward incidents as far as Legolas was concerned. Oreth had carefully kept his distance since he discovered that the prince’s reputation as a mettlesome warrior was well deserved.

However, just as Legolas began to restring his bow, Oreth did approach him. He squatted beside the prince though not too closely, Legolas noted with some amusement.

“Did that creature injure you?” he briefly asked.

“Nay, Elrohir reached me in time,” Legolas replied.

“So I noticed. He should receive some reward for saving the fairest prince of Mirkwood.”

Legolas paused in his task. There was something in Oreth’s tone. Something he couldn’t quite place. He glanced at the older Elf. “If my father gave a reward to every Edhel that did me a service he would soon be mired in poverty,” he remarked mildly.

Oreth stared at him strangely. “Elrohir would likely prefer his reward came from you, Legolas,” he commented. “I doubt your father could give him anything as desirable as that which you already possess.”

Legolas eyed the other Elf curiously. “What do you mean?” he asked.

Oreth shrugged. “Elrohir seems...taken with you. It should not be difficult to please him. And perhaps he is more to your taste.”

The prince’s eyes narrowed dangerously. There was no mistaking the meaning or malice in Oreth’s tone now. “Take care, Oreth,” he warned softly. “You speak of a son of Elrond of Imladris.”

“As to that, stories do reach our ears even all the way from Imladris,” Oreth replied. "'Tis said that he is adventurous and indiscriminate. Even more than his brother who, by all accounts, is no laggard in the pursuit of pleasure. There is no telling what Lord Elrond’s younger son has already tried.”

On that cryptic note he got to his feet and walked away.

Come morning the company headed southwest. There had been reports of orcs in the vicinity, issuing from the heights of the Misty Mountains. They were said to be harassing small settlements in the area and steadily moving eastwards toward Mirkwood.

The Elves of the Woodland Realm cared little for their neighbors on the western borders of their forest with whom they only had minimal contact. But they did care for the woods and the rocs despoiled the woods with a wanton cruelty that was unknown to the Firstborn. Fortuitously, by ridding Mirkwood of these predators they also succored their neighbors and this made their efforts all the more worthwhile.

At noon they stopped at a small glade for the midday meal. Once more Elrohir sat apart from his brother and friend. This only served to pique Legolas’ curiosity. He decided it was time to pry some information out of Elladan.

After the meal, he approached the older twin who had settled himself on a log and was examining his arrows for any damage. Elladan glanced up in some surprise as Legolas sat down beside him.

“Do you remember what happened yesterday?” the prince started. “How Elrohir killed the spider that had felled me?”

Elladan felt his muscles tense. Legolas would not have brought up the subject for no significant reason. Hoping to stave off or avoid the subject altogether, he teased, “Aye, and I cannot believe you needed saving. You actually did not see that huge beast. I thought you Wood-elves had eyes in the backs of your heads.”

Legolas smiled. “Even the best can make mistakes.”

“What? Even a prince of the Woodland Realm?”

“Yes, and you can stop trying to change the subject, Elladan. I know what you’re trying to do.”

Elladan rolled his eyes in resignation and sighed. “Very well. Ask what you will.”

“Why was Elrohir so savage? ‘Tis not his way. It never has been for as long as I have known you two.”

“You are asking why a warrior was savage in battle?”

“Nay, I am asking why Elrohir was so different yesterday. He hated the creature, Elladan. ‘Twas just a beast, evil perhaps but a beast nevertheless that had never done anything to him personally. Yet he slew it as if it had. Why was that?”

Elladan swallowed hard. So, Legolas *had* noticed the difference. He had not discerned the reason, caught up as he had been in the business of staying alive, but he had noticed. He wondered how much he could reveal without actually betraying his brother.

“If my brother has been behaving oddly ‘tis because of late he has been sorely burdened with a problem,” Elladan said carefully.

"'Tis what I suspected,” Legolas said. “Can you not tell me what this problem is?”

“He has forbidden me to speak of it to anyone. Other than myself, only our parents know.”

“And what have Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrían done to help their son?”

Elladan shook his head. “Adar and Naneth”—Father and Mother— “want to help but they are powerless to do so. Only one person can help Elrohir and unfortunately he does not believe that person can—or will.”

“You talk like a wizard,” Legolas complained. “All allusions and no substance. Please speak plainly. What is this thing that burdens Elrohir so?”

Elladan hesitated. He was torn between keeping his brother’s confidence and seeking a solution to his brother’s problem. His dilemma was not made any easier when the solution could very well be sitting right beside him. He looked up and sought Elrohir.

His twin was sitting by himself beneath a birch tree sharpening his sword with all the appearance of industry. But his mind was obviously not on what he was doing. And so lost was he in thought that he had not taken care to guard his face. He was deeply unhappy and it smote Elladan’s heart to see him that way.

“He desires but his desire is not returned,” Elladan finally stated.

Legolas was surprised. “How can this be? He has always been capable of capturing any elleth he desires.”

"'Tis not any of his past lovers who haunts his thoughts and bedevils his heart,” Elladan said. “He has come to yearn for a most unlikely person.“ Here he hesitated, uncertain whether to continue. But Legolas was looking at him intently, waiting for him to do so. He let his breath out. He had not been aware that he’d been holding it. “‘Tis no elleth I speak of, Legolas.”

The prince’s mouth dropped open at that. “No elleth?”—Elf-maid?—he repeated after a long pause. “Then those questions he was asking…” he wonderingly peered at Elladan. “Why did he ask me? Did he fear that I would recoil from him?”

“Would you?” Elladan countered with his own question.

Legolas fell silent. Involuntarily, he looked up, spotted Elrohir and stared at him. By chance the other Elf looked up, too, and their eyes met. Elrohir flushed and hastily averted his eyes.

Legolas looked back at Elladan. “I would not do that,” he said slowly. “How could I, you and he are as brothers to me.”

Elladan stared at him hard. “Are you certain? He believes you will. You have shown yourself to be uncomfortable about such matters. ‘Tis why he refuses to share this with you.”

“I would not hurt him in that manner,” Legolas protested. “I have not forgotten Sirgon’s pain.”

“Neither has he.”

Legolas stiffened. “How great is this passion of his?”

“Great enough. He does not know if ‘tis something that will eventually pass, he only knows it needs to be assuaged. Perhaps only then will he be released from this...obsession.”

“Then why not speak to this Elf? Is he not inclined towards Elrohir?”

“Nay, he does not desire the love of another male.”

“But Elrohir is different. He is fair of face, high of lineage and as skillful a lover as anyone could wish for. Surely this Elf would not mind doing Elrohir that one favor?”

Elladan stared at him disbelievingly then laughed, an ironic edge to his mirth. “Do you hear what you are saying? Would you do this?”

Legolas stared back then nodded in rueful acknowledgement of his friend’s astonishment. “You are right, those were foolish words,” he said apologetically.

Elladan paused for a heart beat. “Not if you meant them,” he said in a low voice.

Legolas frowned. “What do you mean?” When Elladan failed to respond at once, he said, “What are you suggesting, Elladan? That I have influence over this Elf and can persuade him?”

“You might say that,” Elladan answered. He was looking so meaningfully at the prince that Legolas suddenly shivered with unknown foreboding. A thought began to form in his mind, a thought that seemed so preposterous that he was hard put to give it any credence.

“Who is this Elf, Elladan?” he demanded softly, warily. “Who is he whom Elrohir grieves over?”

Elladan took a deep, steadying breath. “He will have my head for this but it needs to be said for his sake,” he murmured. He looked pleadingly at Legolas. “If I tell you now ‘tis because I desire happiness for my brother,” he told the prince. “I pray you will not only cause him more pain.”

“I swear I will not hurt him.”

A short silence. Then— “You are the one, Legolas.”

For the second time Legolas’ mouth fell open. He was unable to speak or move. Indeed, for a moment he could not even think. And when he did his first rational thought was, Why did I not see it? Oreth’s insinuations finally began to make sense.

“Do you understand now why he fought in that manner? Why he followed you and Oreth?” Elladan asked softly. Legolas turned dazed eyes to him. “He was protecting you. He could not bear the thought that evil might befall you.”

Legolas’ blue eyes bore into him with an intensity that would have, had he been a mere Man, made him retreat in fear. “As one would protect his mate,” the prince stated evenly.

Elladan nodded. “What will you do now?” he asked worriedly.

Legolas glanced back at Elrohir who had since risen from his position. “I will talk to him when time and circumstance allow.”

“Do not make me regret telling you this.”

“I would never wittingly hurt him.” Legolas hesitated. “But I cannot control his feelings or his response to mine.”

“Legolas...”

The prince heard the note of warning and worry in his friend’s voice. He held up his hand to forestall any further words on Elladan’s part. “I will do my best to help him. Come what may, he is still my friend and as dear to me as a brother.”

He rose and walked back to where the other rangers were packing their gear. Feeling somewhat drained, Elladan gathered his own things. The problem is he no longer sees you only as a friend or brother, Legolas. Please remember that. Elladan spared one more thought for his brother. Forgive me if I have done ill in telling him, Elrohir.

*********

They had marched for the better part of the afternoon and now drew near to the borders of the forest. Here the trees were not as close and the sun could filter down to reach the forest floor in large, scattered patches of gold. The Rivendell twins felt their spirits rise at the change in atmosphere.

Oreth selected a few of the company and began to divide them into pairs. It was his intention that each pair would scout a particular area and by spreading them widely they would be able to cover more ground in the shortest time possible. The rest would remain behind and await word from the others.

As he assigned the groupings, Legolas glanced at Elrohir. The Elf had rejoined his brother but it was obvious he had done so only because Elladan had left Legolas’ side. The prince frowned.

“Elrohir? Whom shall I pair you with?” Oreth was saying. “Your brother?”

“Nay,” Legolas suddenly spoke up. “I can go with him.”

Across the circle of Elves, Elrohir stared at him in dismay. Oreth, too, eyed him quizzically. Then the captain smiled. It was not a nice smile, Legolas decided. He smiled back but did not let it reach his eyes. Oreth turned away.

“Very well, Legolas will go with you, Elrohir,” he announced shortly.

While the assignments continued, Elladan caught Legolas’ attention. The Elvenlord was stricken with worry and guilt and his stare, if not his expression, betrayed his feelings. Before leaving with Elrohir, Legolas quickly crossed over to him and said, "'Tis an opportune time. I had best take advantage of it.”

“Remember your oath,” Elladan murmured.

Legolas nodded and turned to follow Elrohir. They disappeared from Elladan’s sight.

The two walked a fair distance in near silence before Legolas attempted to converse. They were now at the very outskirts of Mirkwood. Only a thin line of trees separated them from the open space beyond. The prince watched his companion smoothly weave his way among the trees, as silently and stealthily as any Silvan Elf.

“Elrohir, I have not properly thanked you,” Legolas said, careful to keep his voice soft.

“For what?” Elrohir asked in surprise. They continued to move in a southwardly direction.

“For slaying the spider that attacked me.”

“Oh that. ‘Twas a small matter,” Elrohir said dismissively.

"'Twas no small matter to me,” Legolas remarked. “I might have ended up in its belly had you not killed it.”

Elrohir flushed slightly. “I did not mean to belittle the danger to you,” he said.

“I know. And I thank you for the service. You probably saved my life.” When Elrohir merely nodded acceptance of his thanks, Legolas decided to be more direct. “Which is why I feel I must return the favor.”

Elrohir glanced at him furtively from behind a slender tree. “There is no need,” he stated.

“If you have a problem there is a need. I wish you would let me help you, my friend.”

Elrohir now stopped and looked warily at him. “What are you talking about? What problem?”

Legolas came to a halt as well. He came around the thick trunk of an ancient oak and faced Elrohir. He did not fail to observe the quick rise and fall of the other Elf’s chest signaling his tension. “Your problem regarding me,” Legolas quietly replied.

Elrohir’s eyes widened. He opened his mouth then closed it when words failed to come forth. Legolas reached out a comforting hand but the other Elf stepped away. Legolas dropped his hand and waited.

“He told you?” Elrohir finally manage to choke. “Elladan told you?” At Legolas’ slight nod, he let out a ragged breath of anger. “I asked him not to!” he hissed. “How could he betray my confidence?”

“He did it for your sake,” Legolas pointed out in defense of Elladan. “He loves you and wishes to help you. Surely you will not hold that against him.”

Elrohir went still, breathing in deeply in a bid to calm down. “Is that why you asked to be paired with me?” he asked.

“I thought it would give us a chance to talk,” Legolas admitted. “I want to help you, mellon nîn.”

“Help me?” Elrohir laughed harshly. “You cannot help me, Thranduilion.”—son of Thranduil. “No one can.”

Legolas winced at the impersonal address Elrohir used on him. “You do not know that,” he pressed on. “You have not asked me; how can you know that I cannot help you?”

Elrohir turned piercing twilight eyes on him. Legolas swallowed hard as he discerned the other Elf’s misery. “If Sirgon was bent, what do you make of me, ernil daur?”—forest prince?—he challenged.

Legolas felt heat suffuse his cheeks. He had forgotten what had he said of Sirgon during that strange conversation just two days ago. He had used the word in an attempt to contrast the love of Sirgon and the lust of Oreth. It belatedly occurred to him that Elrohir would have perceived it as a slight and felt its sting keenly.

He chose his words carefully. “I only see someone who is dear to me and in need of my aid,” he said in measured tones. “I will not judge you. ‘Tis not my right and even if it were, I still would not judge you.”

The grey eyes suddenly gleamed with unshed tears. Elrohir turned away but his despondency was palpable. Legolas felt his heart go out to him. He approached him quietly and placed his hand on his shoulder. “What can I do, gwador nîn?”—my sworn brother?—he softly asked.

Elrohir shook his head hopelessly. “What I need you cannot give,” he whispered. “Leave me in peace.”

“But you are not in peace and you will not find it,” Legolas reasoned. “Not this way.”

“What way then?”

The prince sighed. “I do not pretend to understand what drives your feelings for me. If I could assuage them I would but…”

“But ‘tis beyond your capacity to bring yourself so low,” Elrohir said, bitterness limning his words.

“Nay, not low. But ‘tis not my inclination and you would know it. I would not hurt you further by attempting something I know is not my preference.”

“You think I do not know that?” Elrohir pulled away from Legolas’ grasp. His voice had risen slightly. “Why think you did I choose not to confide in you? I witnessed your shock when you learned of Sirgon’s passion for you. I saw how you treated Oreth. I will not endure your loathing, Legolas.”

“I could never loath you!” Legolas exclaimed in a hushed voice. “You are closer than friend or brother to me.”

“That, too, I cannot endure,” Elrohir breathed out.

“What?”

“Do you still not see? You are now more than either to me. Pretending that nothing has changed, that I do not feel differently about you has been a burden I have carried each and every day for nigh on three hundred years. It was a mistake to come here. Your very presence torments me.” There was a catch in his voice that made him sound utterly vulnerable. “ I am weary, Calenlass. I cannot carry on with this pretense.”

Legolas felt his heart constrict. “What do you mean to do?” he asked tightly.

Elrohir stared out at the wide space beyond the trees. He looked spent, bereft of spirit and energy. “I will return to Imladris as soon as can be,” he answered. He looked back at Legolas and his eyes were bright with sadness. “And we shall no longer see each other, prince of Mirkwood.”

Legolas gasped. “You cannot mean that!” he protested. “We have been friends for years beyond count. Elrohir, I do not wish to lose you!”

“You lost me the day I learned to desire you,” Elrohir said.

“Nay! You cannot do this! You are a son of Elrond; you cannot give up so easily!”

Elrohir swung around suddenly. His eyes had lost their listlessness. Legolas was startled by the depth of anger and the shadow of violence in them.

“Give up easily?” Elrohir almost spat out. “You have no concept of what I have done to try and relieve myself of these feelings! The depths I have descended to rid myself of these desires!”

Legolas felt his stomach churn. Surely Elrohir did not mean... “You have not...” he faltered. “Elrohir, I cannot believe you would do as Oreth has done!”

Elrohir closed his eyes, a pained look on his face. “You must think very lowly of me if you would actually consider me capable of rape or coercion!” he commented with a dryness that was as acrid as hemlock. He opened his eyes and gazed at the archer. He took note of the other’s sudden pallor, knew his bluntness had caused it. He sighed. “I care not for unwilling partners. I thought you knew me better than that.”

“Forgive me,” Legolas said. “That was unworthy of me.” He studied his friend with rising anxiety. He felt his guilt rise up like a cloud to choke him. Remember your oath. Elladan’s plea reverberated in his mind.

“I should not have tainted myself so,” Elrohir suddenly said. “I sought to erase you from my mind but by trying to assuage my need through others, I only reminded myself of what I could not have. They tried their best to make me forget but how could they when they were not you?”

“Elrohir…” Legolas had never felt so helpless. How arrogant was I to think I could solve this problem so easily, he thought. “I just—I wish I could help.” He saw Elrohir’s shoulders stiffen, knew it was wrong to broach the subject once more. But in his frustration he found himself unable to hold back the words. “Is there nothing I can do?”

He was suddenly grasped by the arms and thrust bodily against the unyielding trunk of a massive tree. The force with which his back hit the trunk was enough to elicit a hiss of pain from him. But Elrohir was no longer capable of hearing or seeing anything beyond his own misery.

“When will you stop offering what you cannot give?” he snarled, his eyes glittering with barely restrained violence. “The only help I want is beyond your ability to give unless you have suddenly developed a yearning for this!”

Legolas gasped in shock when Elrohir’s mouth descended upon his. Unthinkingly, he grabbed at the other’s wrist for his first instinct was to protect himself and do to the Elvenlord as he had done to Oreth. But Elrohir broke away as suddenly as he had closed the distance between them, his dark eyes wide with realization. Guilt, dismay and grief mingled in their silver depths. “O, Elbereth, what have I done?” he whispered.

Silence fell between the two Elves and the minutes ticked by.

In the intervening time Legolas fought to still his trembling. He had never experienced such an assault. There had been nothing like the tentativeness of Sirgon’s unrequited passion for him or the mix of seduction and coercion that Oreth had tried to employ on him. His lips ached as they had never done after a kiss shared with any maiden he had ever had. But more than that he was shaken by the sheer strength that had been brought to bear upon him.

And why should that surprise me? he thought woozily. He and Elrohir were equals in every way. They were both born of exalted lineage and possessed more power than most of the Elves their fathers governed.

He looked warily at Elrohir and felt as if a stranger stood before him. He did not know this Elf, did not see in him the friend with whom he had oft joined forces to drive their respective families to distraction; did not remember the brother in whom he had confided all the joy and heartbreak of early infatuations and the pleasures and frustrations of physical yearnings and received like secrets in return. He could not even glimpse the comrade-in-arms at whose side he had fought many a battle or faced danger with. He tried to dispel the shroud of fear that blinded him but failed.

Elrohir saw the shadow that darkened Legolas’ eyes and felt apprehension and shame engulf him. He cringed inside as he wondered what the prince now thought of him. But he had to do something. He had to make amends.

“Legolas...?” He reached out hesitantly, praying to the Powers that the other Elf did not feel too deeply betrayed. But as his hand neared one shoulder, Legolas recoiled. The prince let out a shuddering breath and swiftly stepped back out of reach. His eyes clearly mirrored his fear.

Whatever pain Elrohir had felt before did not compare with the anguish he now experienced. I should have gone at once. Now there is nothing left, not even a memory of all that was pure and good.

“Forgive me,” he whispered. And he turned and fled.

Legolas sucked his breath in sharply. The sound of Elrohir’s broken apology snapped him out of his daze. He stared as his friend was swallowed by the forest. And suddenly, he remembered once more who Elrohir was and what he had been to him and still was. He is breaking and I am the cause. I cannot let this happen!

“Elrohir!” He raced after the dark-haired Elf.

To be continued...
- 2
- 3
- 4
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 9-Melethron: The Ancient Path