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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.

Chapter List
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Chapter II: Parting Words

The following morning dawned bright and golden. But few among the betrothal feast guests awakened early enough to greet daybreak after the previous night’s late-ending festivities. Legolas, however, rose as always with the sun and was soon dressed for the short trip back to Ithilien.

After a light breakfast, he went to the royal apartments and made his farewells to a still barely awake King and Queen, hastened to Elladan’s chamber and bade him goodbye then went in search of Elrohir when his room turned up empty. When the younger twin was not to be found, he thought to visit his steed in the stables on the sixth level of the City before resuming his search for the Elf-lord. But Elrohir waylaid him as he reached the gate of the Citadel.

“I was just looking for you,” Legolas said in relief. “Where were you?”

“Walking, thinking,” Elrohir replied. “Can we talk in private?”

Legolas looked at him curiously, wondering at his veiled expression. When he nodded his acquiescence, Elrohir led the way down the winding main road to the lowermost level of the City and out onto the Pelennor. They hiked to the southern feet of Mount Mindolluin, the high mountain just west of Minas Tirith against which outthrust knee the Guarded City nestled. The Hallows lay on its eastern flank.

Elrohir guided his friend up a steep path to a high field on the side of the mountain. From there they could survey the City and all the lands about it for leagues on end. Legolas breathed in the cool, clear air.

"'Tis here that Estel found the sapling of the white tree,” Elrohir told him quietly.

Legolas looked at him in surprise. So, he thought, ‘twas here that the sign was given that Aragorn’s love would be granted. He sighed and his gaze focused on the vista before him. Elrohir watched him a while, studying his fine features, following the contours of his sculpted face.

“Legolas, I need to know,” Elrohir said. “You and Estel—” He halted when the prince turned his eyes upon him. “You admitted to love,” he continued. “It was Estel, was it not?”

Legolas was startled. “Why do you think that?”

“I have eyes, ernil nîn.”—my prince. “Ever since the Quest you have changed in the way you regard him. ‘Twas why you chose to live in Ithilien; why you swore not to depart these shores until he passes from this world. Am I right?”

Legolas looked uneasily at him, disconcerted to have been read so clearly. He turned his gaze away.

“Aye.”

The answer was so soft Elrohir nearly did not hear it. “You have changed your course considerably for you to have felt something for him,” he remarked.

“And why should that surprise you?” Legolas questioned. “‘Twas you who led me down this path after all.”

“And now Estel reaps what I have sown. ‘Tis ironic, is it not, considering he was so attached to me as a child.” Again that odd tinge of bitterness. “Were you intimate with each other?” he asked roughly.

His friend’s eyes widened at the impertinence of the question. “Of course not!” Legolas rejoined, staring at the other.

“Why not?”

“He is no Elf!”

“Estel was raised in Imladris,” Elrohir pointed out. “And he is of my uncle’s line. Mayhap our duality slumbers in him. I doubt he would have looked askance at such a request.”

“And have him betray Arwen? I think not,” Legolas said frowningly, his puzzlement growing stronger. “I would not hurt someone I hold as dear as my own sister. Besides...” The archer let out a pensive breath. “Aragorn cared not for me in that manner. ‘Twas always Arwen he yearned for, why he strove so hard during the Quest. He loves our Evenstar, make no mistake about that.”

“I have no doubts about that,” Elrohir said. “I could tell that his heart was ever my sister’s else Elladan and I would have had more than mere words with him. But that he remained constant does not change the fact that you loved him beyond the bounds of mere friendship.”

His words recalled to Legolas the time when his own relationship with this son of Elrond had nearly unraveled. His cheeks colored somewhat. Elrohir saw this but did not halt in his queries.

“What made you care for him?”

Bemused and uncomfortable, Legolas was slow to respond. But under the Elf-knight’s relentless gaze, he finally gave in and considered the question.

“I do not really know,” he admitted. “We became very close after Boromir died and Merry and Pippin were taken. We spent nearly every waking minute in each other’s company, striving to catch up with the orcs, arriving in Rohan to an uncertain welcome. And at the Hornburg, we fought at each other’s side, guarded each other’s backs, as we had never done before. I would have died for him, as he would have for me. I simply felt something more for him than friendship allowed even if I knew he did not return it.”

Elrohir’s eyes narrowed. “And now?”

Legolas sighed. “It is past. I do not dwell on it.”

“Yet I see your face at times and know you remember.”

“One does not simply forget. Aragorn will always have a place in my heart.” For a moment silence fell between the two. “Elrohir, why are you asking all these questions?” Legolas finally said.

The Elf-warrior let his breath out. “Because I need to know if you would open your heart to another,” he said. At the other’s astonished reaction, he drew a deep breath and added: “To me.”

It was seldom that he witnessed Legolas so at a loss for words. The sapphire eyes widened in complete shock and the fine lips parted wordlessly. Some minutes actually passed before the archer found his tongue once more and even then it took several false starts before he finally found the wherewithal to utter something coherent. Had the situation not been so emotionally dire, Elrohir might have found it amusing.

“Sweet Eru,” Legolas whispered at last. “What are you saying?”

“I love you, Calenlass nîn”—my Greenleaf—the twin said bluntly. When Legolas looked at him in stunned disbelief and the obvious beginnings of denial, he added sharply, “Oh, I know what you think. I cannot compare with Estel. He was the Hope of the Dúnedain, the restorer of the Reunited Kingdom and the Elfstone of Gondor. Why should you even consider looking at me as you did him?”

He stopped abruptly when Legolas placed his fingers against his lips. The golden Elf’s eyes were flashing angrily.

“Stop!” he commanded. “I will not have you demean yourself or Aragorn.”

Elrohir snorted but did not continue his acerbic words. “I did not mean to do so. I only stated the truth,” he said more quietly. “For so long had I believed that nothing would come of what I feel for you. Yet I could not stay away from you. Why think you did I make the choice to be of the Edhil? Why I have dwelt in Gondor as much as in Imladris? ‘Tis not only my oaths that keep me here, Legolas.”

This last was said with so much sorrow and the lingering shadow of despair that Legolas’ anger swiftly faded.

“I do not know what to say,” he said, his voice catching. “I-I am sorry.”

“Do not apologize,” the twin said. “You could not have stopped me from feeling as I do about you.”

Legolas became aware of the no long hidden desire in Elrohir’s eyes. He felt a shiver pass through his body.

It was the same desire he had seen in Elrohir’s eyes so long ago, the desire that had nearly driven them apart had he not offered himself to assuage it. No one he had ever cared for had looked upon him with that same intensity of need. If there were others who had gazed upon him with as much hunger he felt no affinity for them and therefore did not care. But for Elrohir he had always cared and therefore had known the consequences of his wanting. Now it was happening again.

Legolas gazed anew at his closest friend. It did not seem possible that this should come to pass once more and yet here was the impossible before him.

The last time they had lain together had been almost a century ago. Aragorn had been but a babe and since then they had not been intimate again. Indeed, Elrohir had seemingly resumed his promiscuous ways, cutting a carnal swathe through the remaining population of unbound ellith—Elf-maids—in Middle-earth and not a few females of Mortal-kind as well. The archer had thought his friend cured of his passion for him.

“I thought that such feelings no longer had hold of you,” he said almost desperately.

“You wanted to believe that. I only pretended for your sake,” Elrohir quietly admitted. “I have loved you for centuries uncounted, Calenlass. Think you I could set aside my love so easily?”

He waited for Legolas to recover from this revelation. “In truth, I was greatly tempted to be of Man-kind if only to end the torment of loving you and not having you,” he confessed. “The urge grew particularly stronger before you left on the Quest.”

Shock registered anew on the archer’s face. He almost staggered under the weight of this alarming discovery.

“We-we nearly lost you?!” he gasped in near horror.

Elrohir smiled sadly. “Nearly. ‘Twas your plea after Arwen and Estel’s wedding that made me reconsider my decision.”

The archer could scarcely speak for his agitation. “Why did you not tell me before I left Imladris?!” he demanded, momentarily diverted. “To think I left not knowing you might have made such a choice!”

“I did not wish to disturb your peace when you were embarking on such a perilous journey,” Elrohir said. He paused, a pained expression flickering across his handsome features. “It was the hardest thing I have ever done, letting you go when I feared so greatly for your safety. In truth, harder than making my choice for ‘twas your life that was at stake.”

Legolas felt his eyes sting with sudden regret at this evidence of the depths of the Elf-knight’s selfless regard for him.

“You should have told me,” he insisted in a trembling voice.

“To what end?” Elrohir said. “You would have fled from me.”

“Nay, I would not,” Legolas protested. “I did not run from you when you first wanted me.”

“Because you believed that ‘twas mere desire that drove me then,” Elrohir countered. “I cannot deceive myself that had you thought it more than desire, that had you seen that I had already begun to love you, that you would have stayed by me then.”

Legolas shook his head, unable to accept the warrior’s logic. “Nay, I would not have forsaken you even then,” he objected. “I would not have held our friendship so lightly.”

Elrohir’s expression told him that, in this matter at least, his friend did not believe him. For the Elf-knight to so doubt him in turn made him unsure of his own assertions. Ever had Elrohir always accepted his word without question.

He drew in a shaky breath. “Whatever you may believe my response would have been, I wish you had trusted me enough to tell me.”

Elrohir simply repeated his earlier statement. “You would have fled from me. You were not ready to open your heart to love. Not until Estel.”

Legolas looked at him with confused eyes. “How did you—?”

“I told you, I know you well.”

The Wood-elf floundered. “Ai, it must have pained you – I mean – Oh Elbereth, I am truly sorry! I never meant to hurt you, Elrohir.”

“And I told you, no apologies,” the warrior reiterated. “I know you would never have hurt me intentionally. Besides, after the initial pain, I realized that there was hope after all.”

“Hope?” Legolas’ eyes were wider than they’d ever been.

“Hope that if you had unshut your heart enough to care for him, then mayhap you would accept another love in his stead,” Elrohir said.

The archer’s sharp indrawn breath accompanied his suddenly flushed countenance.

“Why – why did you not c-come to me after—?” he virtually stuttered, befuddlement and the effects of shock overtaking his usual grace.

“Because your feelings were too fresh, your disappointment too recent,” the twin gently explained. “But when I saw you yesterday I knew it was time I told you the truth. I wanted you so much it was pure agony trying to conceal it from you.”

Legolas felt a quiver pass through his limbs when the twin came closer.

“Elrohir—”

The warrior said very softly. “I do not demand that you love me. I would not care for something forced. But I dare hope to yet gain it. All I ask is that you do not compare me with Estel.”

Legolas felt a twinge of sympathetic pain at the other’s request. “I have never compared you to him,“ he said earnestly. “You are Elrohir to me, no other; the dearest friend of my heart.” Espying the pleasure in the other’s eyes, he cautioned anxiously: “I cannot promise anything.”

“Nor do I expect you to.”

He swiftly closed the remaining distance between them and reached up his hand to cup the prince’s face. Before Legolas could react, the dark-haired Elf caught his mouth in a tender yet heated kiss.

Legolas was shocked by the sudden thrill that ran through his limbs. The sensations he had thought long forgotten coursed through his veins with easy familiarity as if they had only lain dormant and now came alive again at Elrohir’s touch. Unthinkingly, he responded and with that response found powerful arms enclosing him.

Elrohir deepened the kiss, compelling him to part his lips. Legolas could not suppress a needful moan as his mouth was gently pillaged, its reaches thoroughly tasted. He had not expected to feel such pleasure; had not imagined he would enjoy Elrohir’s attentions once more and so readily at that.

He struggled for lucidity and, finding it, pulled away with a ragged gasp. But he knew it was too late. Elrohir had heard him and felt his response.

They stared at each other, one with chaotic confusion, the other with swiftly dawning exultation. Legolas saw the light in Elrohir’s argent eyes. He suddenly felt a need to get away and put his turbulent thoughts and feelings in some semblance of order.

“I must go,” he said shakily. “My people await me.”

He turned to leave but Elrohir caught him by the wrist. He looked back and saw that the twin was gazing at him with barely suppressed elation.

“Safe journey then, malthernil”—golden prince—Elrohir said.

Of a sudden, he smiled and his smile reached out to the prince and ensnared him against his will.

“You will be mine, Legolas. I think you know that.”

Legolas stared at him, his heart pounding as loudly as the drums of the Haradrim in battle. His breath quickened. Once again, he remembered the friend of years past who had known him far more intimately than any friend could or should possibly know.

He pulled his hand away and made his way down the path. But he could sense the eyes of Elrohir upon him and the sensation made him feel like a cornered stag at a hunt in Greenwood.

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Glossary:

Edhil - Elves

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