Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

Greenleaf & Imladris 16 - Strange Fates	By : MPB Category: -Multi-Age > General Views: 3641 -:- 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
Part III

On the eve of the Company’s departure, the Last Homely House lay in pensive silence. No songs enlivened the Hall of Fire, no laughter rang through the corridors. Nine valiant souls were walking out of the valley into certain peril and possible ruin. Nine who represented the Free Peoples of Middle-earth. And amongst them one who bore the fate of Arda by dint of his pluck and tender heart.

There was no place for merriment this last day before the Company of Nine walked knowingly into the gathering darkness.

For much of the afternoon, the members of the Fellowship closeted themselves with Elrond and his twin sons in the former’s study, going over maps for the last time, absorbing as much counsel as they could muster. Then save for Gandalf and Legolas they left to seek what comfort they might. The wizard continued to confer with Elrond but the twins retired to the long couch against the wall with Legolas.

Gandalf watched as the brethren and their woodland friend whiled away the last hours of the afternoon, speaking quietly amongst themselves. Elladan and Elrohir sat half sprawled on either end of the couch. Legolas lay across them, his feet propped on Elladan’s knees, his head ensconced in Elrohir’s lap.

It was a familiar sight to the wizard, one that always made him smile with pleasure. For how could anyone not feel glad at such profound affection between friends?

One might have judged their idleness as a sad waste of precious time. But Gandalf knew better. The twins were stoking their friend’s fortitude with their close regard. In particular, Elrohir was imparting strength to the prince with every tender word uttered and every balming caress of his hand. That was evident in the shining light in Legolas’ eyes as he basked in the Elf-knight’s ministrations.

Gandalf’s eyes met Elladan’s across the room. In that swift exchange, he comprehended what had passed between the brothers. He sighed with some relief. Mayhap Elrond would gain both his sons yet. He turned his attention back to the Imladrin lord. Elrond, too, had taken to staring at the younger twin. His expression betrayed his unawareness as yet of his sons’ fateful conversation.

The elder Peredhel’s eyes were sorrowful. So, he knows, Gandalf thought. He fears he will lose Elrohir as he has lost Arwen though for vastly different reasons. The wizard sighed. It had been most painful to witness the moment when Arwen told Elrond and the twins of her choice.

They had all been seated by Celebrían’s rose garden, happy to have both Arwen and Aragorn returned to them for a while. Gandalf had been with them, always a welcome part of their family gatherings no matter how intimate.

He’d thought to leave the family to their privacy when Arwen brought up the matter but Elrond had stayed him. Mayhap he already sensed what his daughter would say and sought my steadying presence, Gandalf mused. Certainly Elrond had needed it as had Elladan.

In his friend’s eyes the Istar had seen the most profound anguish imaginable mingled with bitterness that his family’s loss was due to his own foster son’s existence. Not that he ever took it out on Aragorn. He loved the Dúnadan too much to ever harbor anger against him. Rather it had been against the demands of fate that he had vented his resentment.

His emotions had been mirrored in Elladan’s reaction. It had taken the older twin some time before he could speak with Aragorn again. That had been another painful moment when he had sought his mortal kinsman and welcomed him as law-brother. His love for Aragorn had overtaken his pain but none could deny Elladan’s struggle not to forsake the Ranger he’d helped raise. It was a testament to his loving heart and implacable sense of duty that he had overcome the darkness that might have sundered him from both Arwen and Aragorn even in this life.

It was Elrohir’s response that had most differed and therefore proved most telling. He’d known grief, of course, and keenly felt the irony of his once-doted-upon Estel being the reason now for his dear sister’s choice. But there had also been the slightest tinge of envy in his argent eyes. Envy for their happiness, for the knowledge that whatever sorrows befell them they would have their love to see them through and, failing that, the reprieve of release from suffering in mortal death.

It was then that Gandalf had realized that his long ago suspicions had come to fruition though, until his talk with Elladan, not the full extent of it. He surmised that Elrond had made his own conclusions that grief-drenched day upon beholding his younger son’s reaction.

What a pity Legolas had not been around to see it, Gandalf thought. Mayhap it might have finally opened his stubborn Wood-elf’s eyes and showed him what was under his very nose! But then again, the wizard considered, knowing his mercurial nature, his fearful heart, he could just as well have bolted and that would have been fatal for the steadfast Elf-knight.

Ai, at times like this he was all too relieved that he was no love-struck denizen of Middle-earth. There were certain advantages to being what he was and more than ever he was thankful for that.

He regarded Elrond once more, noted how he gazed sadly at his younger son. The wizard reached out and clasped the other’s hand in a compassionate grip.

“How long have you known?” he asked in a low voice.

Elrond started. He looked at his friend and saw the knowledge in his eyes. He let out a weary breath.

“Since Arwen told us about..” He shook his head. “His reaction was odd to say the least. I have watched him ever since.”

“Have you spoken to him of this?”

Elrond shook his head. “He is proud,” he replied, with just a touch of that same pride in his voice. “He would sooner face a horde of dragons than invite pity from anyone. He knows he can come to me. But he has not and I believe ‘tis because he knows of my fears.” His gaze softened as he continued to eye his son. “Just as his love runs deeper than the deepest seas, so does his valor scale the highest peaks. He would take on all our burdens if he could, even on top of his own.”

His dark eyes glittered anew with dread and sorrow. Gandalf shifted his hand to the Elf-lord’s shoulder and gently shook him.

“Have faith, Elrond,” he softly counseled.

Elrond sighed. “I have already lost my beloved Arwen,” he murmured. “How can I endure the loss of my gallant Elrohir as well?”

“You do not know that you have lost him,” Gandalf said. “Trust him, my friend. He will do what is right for himself...and Legolas.”

Elrond’s gaze shifted to the woefully oblivious Sindarin prince. His lips tightened.

“I love him like one of my own,” he said. “Yet I cannot help questioning if he is worth my son’s faithfulness and suffering. He is so – so obtuse not to see what is offered to him. Elbereth knows how many would kill for the chance to own even a fraction of such devotion yet he—” Elrond blew out his breath in exasperation. “Elrohir’s love is a priceless treasure not lightly bestowed. If only I could convince myself that he is worthy of it.”

“If Elrohir deems him worthy who are we to say otherwise?” Gandalf pointed out. “And Legolas is not so much obtuse as afraid to venture his heart. Fear can blind us; make us commit all manner of foolishness or wrongdoing. Legolas knows nothing of lovers’ hearts; you can scarcely expect him to perceive Elrohir’s. Your son understands this. ‘Tis why he endures, why he does not press him.” He repeated his advice. “Trust him, Elrond. When has he, when have either of your sons ever failed you?”

Elrond hesitated then looked at the wizard with the faintest wisp of hope.

“Never.”

*******

Despite his own words of counsel to Elrond, Gandalf could not desist from going to the subject of their discussion himself. Not when the object of said subject’s love would be traveling with him for the Valar only knew how long. If he could only give ease to the younger twin, he would feel so much better on the morrow. One less burdened heart was a gift in these dark times. Which was why the wizard found himself walking down the corridor of the residential wing of the house, seeking the Elf-knight.

He saw him near the porch leading to the gardens, conversing with the Mirkwood prince. He waited, silently observing them. The dark head was bent close to the golden, grey eyes shared secrets with blue. At length, Legolas chuckled softly and, after a fond smile at the twin, walked away.

All that time, Elrohir had guarded his expression, displayed naught but the tender regard of a friend and sworn brother. But no sooner had Legolas turned away and no longer saw his face than his demeanor changed. Nothing blatantly overt. Just a darkening of the twilight eyes, the merest quiver of the sinuous mouth, the resigned droop of the proud shoulders. Gandalf felt his heart wrench at that doleful sight.

He remained still as Elrohir turned and began to walk toward him, head slightly bowed. The warrior jerked his head up when he realized an impediment stood in his way.

“A moment of your time, Elrohir,” Gandalf requested, a gesture indicating the gardens.

Elrohir smiled and nodded. “Always, Mithrandir.”

They strolled amidst the frost covered trees and bushes, unmindful of the crisp wintry air though Gandalf knew full well that, given prolonged exposure to the bone-chilling cold, even he would start to feel its bite.

“Are you prepared for this venture?” Elrohir quietly asked.

“As prepared as any can be for such an uncertain road,” Gandalf replied. “And you?”

Elrohir looked at him, puzzled. “I am not leaving on this quest.”

“But Legolas is. Are you prepared to part from him?”

Elrohir stopped; considered the wizard quizzically. “I am loath to let him go on so perilous a journey,” he said at last.

“And I know full well why you are loath to let him go,” Gandalf murmured. “You would rather sacrifice your life than risk his.”

“He is my dearest friend,” Elrohir pointed out. “I could hardly be gladdened that he will be part of such a perilous undertaking.”

“Yet you do not plead with Aragorn to stay though he is your well-loved foster brother,” Gandalf gently reminded him.

“This is Estel’s destiny,” Elrohir countered. “I cannot stand in his way.”

“And how do you know that it is not Legolas’ destiny as well to take this road? Nay, son of Elrond, ‘tis not reason that moves you but your heart.”

Elrohir gazed somberly at the wizard, wondering what his friend knew, struggling to discern what he could confide.

“It seems you have read mine then,” he commented at length.

“I have been observing you these many years,” Gandalf said kindly. “Even before Elladan spoke to me on the matter, I suspected as much.”

Elrohir nodded then sighed. “What my heart desires is of no significance in this struggle,” he said. “As you say, ‘tis his destiny and none should hinder it. Yet I cannot stop myself from wanting to keep him safe from the evils without. He is not as I am, Mithrandir. I have seen enough wickedness to render me jaded by it.”

“Nay, Elf-knight, that is not so,” Gandalf reproved gently. “Your noble heart would never allow it. Always will you seek evil’s ruin for it is not in you to let it flourish unchecked.”

Elrohir snorted mildly. “You give me too much credit,” he retorted though without ire. “Yet ‘tis true that I have faced evil many a time and lived to tell my tale of it. But Legolas has not. Not true evil. I fear for him. I do not want his pure heart tainted or shattered by whatever lies ahead.”

“It will not be tainted or shattered,” Gandalf reassured him. “Not if he has your love to shield him and hold him steady. He may not recognize your regard as such but he knows it as his. It will sustain him even in the darkest hours, this knowledge that he is cherished by one whose affection he treasures more than any other’s. Even his own kin.”

Elrohir peered at the wizard in surprise. “You exaggerate, Mithrandir,” he protested.

“Nay, I speak the truth. And Legolas will come to realize this as well though he is intractable enough to deny it when he does!” This last was said with a hint of the same exasperation Elrond had displayed earlier.

Elrohir could not help chuckling at the wizard’s show of pique. “Aye, Nimeithel has called him mule-headed on occasion,” he said, recalling the Elf-princess’ not always complimentary remarks regarding her brother.

“An apt description I must say,” Gandalf agreed.

He smiled when he espied a glimmer of pleasure in Elrohir’s eyes. That did Gandalf a world of good, knowing he had given some cheer and a measure of hope to the dauntless Elf-rider.

They walked on in silence for a few moments. Then Elrohir glanced at the wizard and said: “May I ask a favor of you?”

“Anything in my power.”

“I know ‘tis Frodo’s well-being and safety that will occupy your mind in this quest,” the Elf-knight said. “But may I be so bold as to ask you to guide and protect Legolas as well? Until such time that I may do so again.”

Gandalf nodded in understanding. “As to that, it may be sooner than you expect,” he remarked. He did not elucidate any further despite the twin’s puzzled reaction. Instead he said: “Take heart, Elrohir. I will do what I may for all of the Fellowship but, for your sake, I will take our Mirkwood prince under my wing whenever I can. That is, if he will allow such coddling in the first place,” he added with a twinkle in his wizened eyes.

Elrohir had to grin at the Istar’s succinct summary of the Elf-prince’s character. They heard the dinner bell sound and hearkened to its summons. Turning their conversation to other matters, they walked back to the house together.

*******

Ringarë 25 TA 3018

Legolas stepped into the Hall of Fire where farewells would be made. It was nearing dusk and the Company would soon depart under cover of darkness. Of the Fellowship, he was the most lightly clad for the cold troubled him little.

His eyes fell at once upon the twins who flanked their father and sister. Arwen’s countenance betrayed nothing of the fear that she most likely bore for Aragorn. But that was not surprising. In her long years of sojourning in the Golden Wood, she had learned to school her demeanor. No longer did she let her tart tongue rule her or give her former impetuosity free rein. She was the Lady of Imladris in her mother’s stead and she acted accordingly though, on occasion, the Arwen of old still peeked out, particularly with those close to her.

After saying goodbye to the others who waited--especially Glorfindel, Erestor, Almariel and Lindir--Legolas quietly took leave of Arwen and her father, wondering somewhat uneasily at the rather stern gaze Elrond dealt him. But his unease was soon dispelled by Elrohir’s warm smile.

The younger twin took him by the arm and led him out of the hall. “Come,” he said. “I would have us speak our last in private.”

“But Aragorn—”

“We have already said our farewells to him,” Elladan said.

Outside, they spoke for a while, the twins continuing to buttress their Mirkwood friend’s resolve. They knew full well what it felt like to travel far from family and home into strange lands on journeys fraught with peril and the likelihood of tragedy never far away. For all his eagerness, Legolas could not help harboring the doubts and worries that would strike even the most seasoned of journeymen when faced with uncertainty of life and limb.

At length, they saw the others begin to come out of the hall, Boromir and Gimli first, followed by the four hobbits and, lastly, Aragorn. Gandalf remained behind, still deep in talk with Elrond. The brethren made to follow them when Legolas tugged at Elrohir’s hand, staying him. The younger twin nodded at his brother and Elladan walked on. Elrohir turned to face the archer.

“What is it?” he queried.

Legolas hesitated. When he spoke, he sounded a bit abashed.

“What I said to you,” he haltingly said. “About being glad that – that..”

“That I am as your friend once more,” Elrohir quietly supplied.

“Aye, that. Elrohir, I did not mean to imply that I was – shamed by what passed between us.” At Elrohir’s start of surprise, Legolas sighed. “You have kept it to yourself but I know you were hurt by my words. I am sorry I did not choose them more wisely.”

Elrohir fell silent for a spell, slightly taken aback that Legolas had discerned his pain and torn between relief and frustration that he had not comprehended the reason for it.

“I will not deny that I was troubled by what you said,” he finally replied, daring to admit that much. “But I understand why you needed to tell me of your feelings about this matter. There is no need to apologize for speaking the truth.”

Legolas peered at his friend, aware of undercurrents in his demeanor yet unable to discern their significance. But there was no time to dig deeper; he would have to wait until they met again. If they ever did.

“You know I esteem you above all else,” Legolas said, rendered anxious by the Elf-knight’s reticence with him.

The twilight eyes glittered with unfathomable emotion. “You have assured me of this many times, Calenlass,” the warrior said.

“But you do believe me?” Legolas insistently prodded. “Please, Elrohir, tell me that you do.”

Elrohir looked at him searchingly. When Legolas did not flinch under his argent gaze, he softly replied, “Aye, malthernil”—golden prince—“I believe you.” He glanced up as Elrond and Gandalf at last came out of the Hall of Fire. “Let us go.”

“Elrohir—” Legolas held back, discomfited by an odd sense of things still left unresolved.

“I believe you,” Elrohir gently repeated. “And deem you closest to my heart of all I hold dear. Always trust in that, Legolas.”

The archer managed a smile at the assurance. He nodded and let his friend lead him out to the courtyard where Elladan waited with the other companions and the closest members of the household. Elrond and Gandalf soon joined the small gathering.

After Elrond gave his final counsel and farewells to the Company, Legolas returned to the twins to bid them a last goodbye.

“May the Valar protect you on this journey, Legolas,” Elladan said. “And do keep Estel out of trouble for us.”

Legolas laughed softly as the older twin warmly hugged him. He turned to the younger twin.

Elrohir murmured: “Be safe, Calenlass nîn. You will always be in our thoughts and prayers.”

“As you will be in mine,” Legolas fervently replied.

Suddenly, he realized just how much he would miss his friends. For this would be the first time he would be journeying far and into unknown danger without them. In particular, he would miss Elrohir and his never failing regard. He caught the Elf-knight to himself and held him tightly. An embrace as snug and tender was his answer and he was heartened by it.

At last, he started to walk away to rejoin the Company. But after a few steps he looked back at them uncertainly. Elladan grinned encouragingly and Elrohir, with an understanding smile, softly said, “Go.”

Legolas beamed at them then turned away and walked off resolutely to embark on the adventure of a lifetime.

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

Glossary:

Ringarë – Quenya for December

Calenlass nîn - my Greenleaf (Elrohir’s pet name for Legolas)

The End
- 2
- 3
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 16 - Strange Fates