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Greenleaf & Imladris 28 - In His Father's Image	By : MPB Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 5531 -:- 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.

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Chapter III

The woods of Rivendell in spring were lovely beyond compare. Clad as they were in the first blossoms of the waking year, fragrant with the heady scents of lush greenery and pungent herbs, alive with the music of birds returning to their northern nests—the hidden vale’s forests were the closest the Hither Lands’ would ever get to the enchanted woods of the Blessed Realm now that Lothlórien was but a memory.

But Elros paid neither beauty nor scents nor sounds much heed as he walked musingly down one of the many paths that cut through the woods. The younger son of Elladan was the more introspective of the brethren and, this afternoon, he was deeper in thought than usual.

Though alike in face and form to his father and his father’s twin, in nature he was more akin to the brother of the Peredhel he had been named after. It had not been readily apparent at first, this similarity in thought and spirit to Elrond. But in recent years, as his coming-of-age drew closer and his maturity deepened, Elros had begun to manifest many of his grandsire’s qualities.

They were in their nascent stages as yet but there was no denying Elrond’s traits in his younger grandson. His quiet yet forceful presence, his wisdom, both inborn and learned, his almost preternatural calm, and his gentleness that concealed a latent ferocity that came to the fore when peril threatened. Though mere minutes younger than Elendir, there were times he seemed the elder and by many years.

But in one matter he differed from his grandfather and from his sire and brother as well. He yearned not for his mother’s kind but for his father’s.

That had puzzled him initially. He had expected to feel the pull towards both male and female-folk. After all, both Elladan and Elrohir had known such mixed stirrings and, belatedly, even Legolas. Yet it seemed he and Elendir were fated to follow essentially different paths in matters of the heart.

Elendir was definitely enamored of womankind. He delighted in the displays of affection between their parents; would dare, as many a brash young Elf had done since time immemorial, to observe unseen the charms of the ellith of the valley. And of these there was a renewed abundance. Many had come from forsaken Lórien while others had abandoned the wandering companies to settle for a spell in Imladris.

But Elros, while appreciative of said charms and thrilled by the passion of his parents, simply did not yearn for an elleth’s touch. It was not the soft silk of females he longed for but the hard steel of males.

He had realized this when he came upon his uncles one hot summer day by the Bruinen and found himself stirred by what they shared as he had never been before. It had not even been a carnal act that he had witnessed; merely the evidence of the deep intimacy of their hearts and spirits.

Legolas and Elrohir had just emerged from the bracing waters of the Loudwater and had only donned their long breeches when horseplay ensued. Their admittedly long years were no hindrance to their occasional penchant for merriment of the juvenile sort. In the course of their playful wrestling, Elrohir had backed Legolas up against a tree. In the next instant, they were both locked in a long, all consuming kiss of deep affection.

Neither had attempted to extend the caress into a more thorough interlude; both had a full day of duties to attend to. But the image of their lean, muscular forms molded against each other, powerful warrior’s hands holding the other close and fierce unflinching gazes promising more than clutches and kisses later in the deeps of the night had lingered in Elros’ mind. It had left him all but undone for the first time in his young life and awakened the dormant yearnings of his maturing body and heart.

In particular, one yearning. He sighed in frustration. It was so difficult when one was still too young to indulge one’s self in more than self-applied caresses. On these, his father and uncles had been most informative, their consideration for his and his twin’s budding desires moving them to explain in startling detail what both might expect when they finally could and did engage partners in more intimate play. But until then, they had to content themselves with their own devices.

Tradition frowned upon Elves in their minority satisfying their concupiscence in partnership with another. More abhorred was the taking of a child by a mature Edhel, even in the name of instruction.

And Elros knew he was a child still in the eyes of his elders. Until his coming-of-age, his favors were forbidden to anyone, ellyn and ellith alike. Until he reached his majority five years hence, he could not seek tutelage in that most intimate act of the love-arts.

He suddenly smiled and a sparkle lit his unusual eyes. At least, he already knew just who he would approach to tutor him when that much anticipated time arrived. Not for him a chance encounter that might or might not culminate in enlightenment. Nay, he would not learn his bed-manners in the arms of a stranger. His would be more than an initiation into the mere joining of bodies. What he had learned several summers back boded a gentle coupling of hearts as well.

So deep was he in this pleasant thought that he did not sense the presence of another until the other was nigh upon him. He whirled, body tensing not in alarm for he was within the secure bounds of Imladris, but in wariness of any unexpected situation as he had been assiduously trained to do since the onset of his adolescence.

“Merenwë!” he softly exclaimed in surprise. What was the counsellor doing, skulking after him like that?

The advisor halted, a little taken aback by the youth’s swift reflexes. He shrank back, looking quite unlike his usual dapper, confident and condescending self. He was not formally be-robed for office as was his habit and the plaiting of his black tresses left something to be desired in neatness.

“Are you well, counsellor?” Elros queried in concern, approaching the other. He was not particularly close to the advisor nor had he had enough dealings with him to predispose him toward or against him. He was cognizant of others’ grumblings regarding the latter’s behavior and tart tongue but Elros had never been one to judge others by hearsay, even during his most recalcitrant years.

He stopped, however, when he detected the faintest reek of alcohol. Merenwë had imbibed quite a bit it seemed though he was far from inebriated. Elros frowned in even more concern.

“Is it not a little early to have indulged yourself so fulsomely?” he remarked somewhat disapprovingly.

Merenwë directed a startlingly emotion-filled stare at him. “You would indulge yourself as well were you the recipient of such news as I had to bear this day,” he bleated.

“What news?”

“I have been dismissed,” he announced. At the younger Elf’s confused reaction, he pressed on. “The Lords Elladan and Elrohir bade me depart from Imladris and return to Lindon. They informed me that they no longer have need of my services.” He shuddered.

Elros frowned more deeply. Merenwë had served his family since the Second Age. It seemed quite unfair to send him away now and so arbitrarily at that.

“On what grounds did they request you to leave?” he inquired.

Merenwë’s mouth tightened. “Because I was foolish enough to have revealed a long hidden affection.”

Elros was all the more appalled. That was not at all something he’d expected his father or uncle to do. Why banish someone for falling in love?

“There must be an error,” he cautiously suggested. “They would not judge anyone because of a belatedly admitted love.”

“They would if that love was for one of their own.” When Elros gasped, he trained an unabashedly feeling gaze upon him. “If it was for you, my young lord.”

Elros swallowed hard, speechless for the moment. “I never suspected—” he haltingly said. “But I am flattered that—that one so august as yourself should hold such a regard for me.”

“Are you, pen neth?”—young one?—Merenwë purred. The unexpected intimate tone of his voice caused both a learned wave of caution and a natural thrill of reaction to course through Elros’ nerves.

“But of course, counsellor,” he replied. “Who would not?” Slightly alarmed by the darkened gleam in the others eyes, he quickly added: “But I still do not understand. You have never approached me before. Why would they condemn you for feeling thusly about me?”

“Because Lindir carried the tale to them,” Merenwë replied, his voice edged with venom.

Elros gaped. “Lindir?”

“Aye. Your steward betrayed my confidences in him. He told them of my feelings and worse.” The advisor’s features darkened angrily. “He suggested I had less than honorable designs on you.”

Elros shook his head, incredulous. “Why would he—?”

“Because he feels for you as I do.”

Elros went still. He regarded Merenwë steadily, a commendable response in one so young whose life had been so summarily rocked by sordid revelations.

Encouraged by Elros’ silence, Merenwë went on. “He desires you, Elros. He has been eyeing you for some time now, has oft stalked you when you were unaware of his presence.” He could not stay a small smile when the other caught his breath in shock. “He would have long taken you for his own, pen neth, against all dictates of our kindred’s laws were it not for my vigilance.”

Elros stared at him. “Your vigilance?!”

“I have kept watch over him these many years since I first discerned his unholy yearnings. I feared for your innocence should he forswear the traditions of our people and touch you afore your appointed time.” He reached out a hand and stroked the youth’s smooth cheek. “Verily have I protected your virtue, Elros, out of love for you.”

To his surprise, Elros’ eyes suddenly turned icy. The young Elf jerked back his head, stepped away out of his reach.

“You lie!” he snapped. “Lindir would never do anything so base!’

“But he would,” Merenwë insisted, bemused at what had so precipitately set Elros against him. “I have seen him follow you around, witnessed how he observes you at the most unseemly occasions. I have even caught him studying you when you use the public baths.”

“Mayhap ‘tis you who indulges in such unseemly behavior,” Elros hissed. When Merenwë flushed, the young Elf knew himself to be correct in his suspicion. “Begone! I will hear no more of this!”

Elros spun on his heel to leave. He was shocked, therefore, when Merenwë grabbed him by the arm and forced him back.

“You would defend the steward and impugn my honor in one breath?” he growled, his less than sober state more apparent now in the slight slurring of his words in his agitation. “I will teach you your manners, hir neth!”—lordling! “‘Tis time someone did and I see no reason why I should not be the one to do so!”

Elros broke away, tried to run, but was caught in strong arms. Yet he was no helpless Elfling and he jabbed his elbow into the other’s belly. Merenwë partly released him with a grunt and he shoved the counsellor away. Pushed beyond reason, the latter swung furiously at him. Evading the blow, Elros managed to hook his leg behind the other’s knees and trip him. Merenwë fell.

Again, Elros whirled to flee. He had been trained to fight and defend himself but he was no fool to believe himself a match for a full-grown Elf. Warrior Merenwë was not but, as had most Noldor, he had seen his share of war and been as much soldier as counsellor in his youth.

Merenwë lunged forward on his belly and grasped the lad’s ankle. Pulling hard, he sent Elros sprawling. Before the young Elf could scramble to his feet, the advisor was upon him.

******

Lindir hesitated as he walked down the forest path. He wondered if he was doing the right thing or not.

He had earlier watched from afar as Elros went for a leisurely stroll in this stretch of woods that he favored. He had not meant to spy on the youth at all but had been on his way back from a visit to the outlying communities in the vale. As chief steward, it was his duty to every once in a while check on the well-being of the citizens of Imladris. He was just returning from one such trip when he saw Elladan’s son vanish into the forest.

He had not thought to follow the youth. That was highly inappropriate. But someone else had not deemed it so. A prickle of suspicion had been his first reaction upon seeing Merenwë enter those same woods several minutes later. Instead of going back to the house, Lindir had stopped and pondered what to do about such misconduct. At length, he decided to go after the advisor and see what he was about.

Halfway into the woods, he stopped. What business was it of his anyway? From what he had observed, it seemed that Merenwë was keeping an assignation with Elros. Joint pangs of jealousy and resignation smote the steward. Well, why not? Merenwë was an Elf of good family and standing, a respected counsellor for all his less than likeable demeanor. A good match for either of Elladan’s sons.

Not that he even suspected the two of doing any more indiscreet than furtive caresses. That was permissible to a certain extent. And the Peredhil had always been more enterprising in this respect than most, even Elrond in his youth. He sighed. He should have thought hard on his actions before following.

He was about to turn around and retreat when an angry howl rent the peace of the woods.

“Get off me!”

Shocked, Lindir sprinted in the direction from whence the cry had come. He came upon Merenwë straddling a furiously resisting Elros. The counsellor had torn open the youth’s tunic and shirt and was now attempting to unlace his breeches. Elros was not making it easy for him but he was undoubtedly at a disadvantage, supine as he was on the forest floor with the heftier, stronger Elf atop him.

Rage coursed through every creep and cranny of Lindir’s being as he sped toward the grappling pair. He grabbed Merenwë by the scruff of his tunic collar and hauled him off Elros. The by-now reasonless counsellor threw a wild punch at him but it proved but a glancing blow as Lindir stepped back. Before Merenwë gained proper footing, Lindir struck his jaw so hard that he staggered backward. Another blow and he collapsed, senseless.

Lindir ascertained first that he was definitely out cold before turning his attention to Elros. He paused and regarded the young Elf with dawning admiration.

Elros took his time to study the prone advisor before raising his eyes to Lindir. Gratitude and appreciation lingered in their grey depths. But not turmoil or horror. He was cool and collected even in the aftermath of his first encounter with this manner of adversity.

Lindir offered him a helping hand. When it was accepted, he pulled the twin to his feet. While Elros dusted himself off, the steward quickly perused his form for any injuries. But though his clothing was rent and his breech-laces loose, he was himself quite unhurt. Lindir blew out a relieved breath.

“My thanks,” Elros softly said. “Your timing was impeccable, Lindir.”

Lindir shook his head. “I cannot believe he dared so heinous a thing,” he remarked. “I am glad I followed you here.”

“You followed?”

A slight blush stained Lindir’s cheeks at the youth’s almost amused tone. “I saw him go after you,” he admitted. “I do not know what impelled me to follow him. Certainly not any suspicion of this! Indeed, I had thought you knew of his presence.”

Fine eyebrows rose in amazement. “You thought we were trysting?” Elros half gasped out. “Why ever would I choose him as my first bed-teacher?”

Lindir rolled his eyes at such vivid bluntness. He supposed it was to be expected of Elladan’s son. Not to mention Elrohir’s nephew. “Well, why not?” he countered. “He is handsome enough and of respectable lineage.”

Elros snorted. “As if I care for such things. I have never harbored an interest in Merenwë though he claimed to have felt something for me. He is the last Elf in Arda I would have considered for that.” He shook his head in even greater amusement.

“You sound as if you already have someone in mind,” Lindir murmured as he began cutting down vines with which to bind the advisor. He strove to keep any of his envy from manifesting itself in his voice.

“I do though he does not know it yet,” Elros replied cheekily. “And he will not until the proper time.”

Bending over Merenwë, Lindir was grateful that the task hid his face. It hurt deeply to know the truth in Elros’ heart but he would not permit his feelings to show. He would not inflict such a burden on the younger Elf for burden it would be should Elros learn of his hopeless love. Knowing the Peredhil as he did, Lindir was certain this twin would feel guilt for unwittingly causing him pain. He would not do that to Elros. And so he busied himself with trussing up the counsellor until he could control his feelings once more, comforted by his timely rescue of the twin. At least, he could take some solace from the knowledge that Elros’ first experience in the bed-arts would be with someone he cared for and not at the hands of this would-be ravager.

He averted his face when Elros helped him by binding the advisor’s ankles. When they were done, he bent and easily slung Merenwë over his shoulder. Elros regarded him with sudden admiration.

“You are stronger than I ever suspected, Lindir,” he remarked as they started on the short trek back.

Lindir shook his head. “I have carried heavier loads in my time,” he dismissed. A moment later, he wished he had held his tongue. His answer had only served to remind Elros of what he once had been. A housemaster who had oft joined his staff as they hauled and hefted weighty supplies and the like to the Last Homely House’s various pantries, cellars and storerooms.

But Elros gave no sign of being put off at all. “Aye, I can imagine you did,” he said. “I hope I shall gain as much strength as yours when I am fully grown. Mayhap I should help the servants in their chores as well.”

Lindir laughed softly. “Your father and uncle used to assist us when they were your age,” he admitted. “Though I warrant it was as much for them to see what they could use in their jests as it was to be of help to us.”

Elros chuckled. “But you continue to do your share though ‘tis no longer required of you,” he remarked. When Lindir only nodded smilingly, he said, “Then I will do mine as well. And I will see if I can persuade Elendir to join me.”

Lindir’s smile widened approvingly. “It will hearten the servants to know your consideration for them as it did in your father’s time. Now come, I would have this problem dealt with soonest.” He shifted the weight on his shoulder to a more comfortable position.

They hurried back to the Last Homely House.

******

Merenwë gained his senses soon after he was dumped on the couch in the main hall of the house. He soon had reason to wish he had not when Nimeithel displayed her seldom seen temper. She scarcely waited for the bewildered advisor to stumble to his feet when she broke away from Elladan and dealt him a hearty buffet. It was no delicate slap designed to leave raked welts but a solid punch that created a nicely purpling and painful bruise on his cheek. Not for nothing had she once trained under her husband and law-brother’s soldier’s eyes.

Elladan caught his furious wife back lest she resort to violence that might very well end up in the latest round of kinslaying to assail Middle-earth.

“Unhand me, hervenn!”—husband!—she spat. “This cur needs be taught a lesson!”

“And he will be taught one,” Elladan said. “Peace, melethril”—lover—“I will not have you overwrought over him. Gwenyn!”—Twins!

Swiftly Elendir and Elros caught their mother in their soothing arms, Elros in particular murmuring calming words to her, assuring her of his well-being. After a moment, the woodland princess managed to regain control of herself and she subsided into her sons’ balming embraces.

In the meantime, the elder twins faced a surprisingly unrepentant Merenwë. It was plain the counsellor had been pushed beyond sufferance and no longer cared what they thought of him. He glared at them defiantly then dared to bestow upon Elros a patently unchaste smile.

Elladan would have dealt him a blow of his own as would Elrohir but neither cared to lower himself to the other Elf’s level. But behind them, Legolas openly flexed his fingers then lowered them to the hilt of his knife. There was no mistaking what he might very well do should the advisor debase his nephew with another leer. Merenwë noted the cold blue eyes and decided to desist from further provoking displays for the moment.

“You have attempted the most atrocious of offenses, Merenwë,” Elladan snapped. “Not only would you have forced yourself upon one unwilling but an Elf in his minority as well. What have you to say in your defense, scum?”

Merenwë actually swaggered somewhat or as well as he could with the warriors, Daurin and Enedrion, directly behind him. “‘Twas not to despoil that I sought to take him but to ensure our eventual mating,” he said, voice shaded with his familiar arrogance. At the collective gasp of shock, he went on, smiling pridefully at Elladan. “You would not have denied me your son if only to save him from fading.”

“You spawn of an orc!” Elladan snarled. “Think you I would have yielded him to one so base?’

“I think you would have, my lord, rather than lose him to the Halls of Awaiting,” Merenwë countered.

“Better the Halls of Awaiting than be bound in torment to you!” Elros suddenly declared, eyes flashing with burning ice. “Declare your judgment Adar”—Father—“and have him gone soonest else I swear I shall deal my own justice!”

Though aching to wrap his fingers around Merenwë’s neck, Elladan swallowed the impulse and nodded. He glanced at Elrohir then stepped back to enfold his family in his arms. He did not trust himself not to break in fury should Merenwë react as tauntingly as before.

Elrohir reached out, grasped the advisor by the collar and roughly pulled him close until they were all but eye-to-eye. The mithril-hued pools glinted with lethal fire.

“You could not have me to further your ambitions and so thought to take your undeserved reward from another,” he hissed. Merenwë’s eyes widened in surprise at the Elf-knight’s assertion. “You are lower than the orcs who at least do not trouble to mask their baseness before they assault their victims. But you—!”

He shoved Merenwë into the steely grasps of Daurin and Enedrion. “You served our house well in ages past, that we cannot deny,” he coldly said. “That alone has spared you from the punishment you so richly deserve. But your treachery against one of our young cannot be forgiven or forgotten; not here or even in Lindon where we had previously bade you retire. Therefore, it is our decision that you be sent to Círdan to take ship out of Mithlond and sail for Aman where you will rejoin the Noldor you profess to love so much. They will judge you for this transgression under the auspices of the Valar themselves.”

Merenwë stared popeyed at him. That was not what he had expected at all. To be judged by the Noldor of the Blessed Realm who still strove to atone for their past sins...and they ruled by Finarfin, the Peredhil’s own forefather—! No longer self-assured, he was so busy thinking of all the repercussions of their decision that he did not notice Elladan’s signal to the warriors. He gasped in alarm but had no time to put up much of a resistance when they unceremoniously bundled him out of the hall to confine him in one of the seldom used cells near the barracks.

Elrohir sighed in disgust then turned to regard his brother and the latter’s family. He smiled wanly when Legolas came to his side and slipped an arm around his waist. He glanced at Elros.

“‘Tis fortunate you were able to keep him from doing worse ere Lindir came to you,” he remarked.

Elros raised his head from his mother’s shoulder. “I would have fought him to the death, Uncle, rather than let him soil me.”

“Hush, dear one,” Nimeithel reproved. “Speak not of such things.”

“But I would have, Nana”—Mama—Elros gently insisted. “There would have been no other recourse.”

“You mentioned earlier that you did not know whether his assertions were true or not,” Legolas said. “What made you recognize them for false?”

“His accusations against Lindir,” Elros answered.

The steward started then stared at him. He had remained silent all these time, ready to assist if necessary but otherwise stayed by himself by the door leading to the east wing of the house. The others, too, gazed at the younger twin with surprise.

“What did he say about Lindir?” Elladan inquired.

“He imputed to Lindir his own base desires,” Elros said, eyes going to the steward. “Once he did, I knew him for a liar,” he continued, speaking to Lindir directly. “I knew you would never do any of the things he accused you of.” His eyes softened with utmost respect and genuine affection. “You are too honorable an Elf to ever transgress against me in that manner.”

Lindir felt his cheeks burn. He did not dare look at Elros’ parents or uncles who knew the truth all too well. If only Elros was aware of his own desires, he would not be so kindly in his regard now, the steward thought. But he took hold of himself and managed a whispered, “Thank you.”

“Nay, ‘tis us who should thank you many times over,” Nimeithel said. She went to him. Taking his capable hands into hers, she very softly added: “I confess I had reservations about you when Elladan told me of your love for Elros. But now I know my husband chose wisely in entrusting both our sons to your care.”

Lindir could only mutely nod his head, moved by his lady’s unspoken approbation of his feelings for her child. She smiled then returned to her husband’s embrace.

********

Daurin himself led the contingent that would take Merenwë to Lindon. They left the following morning, the Imladrin captain bearing a letter from Elladan to Círdan explaining the circumstances and requesting the shipwright’s assistance. Merenwë stared glumly at the document Lindir handed to Daurin. He did not doubt in the least that Círdan would accommodate the twin lords of Rivendell with all alacrity.

Before he was led to his mount, he glared at Lindir with a last minute spurt of rancor. “So, you will now find your path clear to your desire,” he snipped. “That should make you happy, half-breed!”

Lindir gazed at him, the pity in his hazel eyes so intense it disconcerted the erstwhile counsellor.

“That is your tragedy, Merenwë,” he quietly rejoined. “You have not learned that love is not about owning but about giving.”

Merenwë stared at him, confused by both his words and his compassion. But he had no more time to consider either when Daurin and another warrior firmly took him to one of the steeds and none too gently hoisted him aloft it. Speedily, the others vaulted onto their own horses and, with a last salute by the captain to the chief steward, departed the grounds of the Last Homely House.

Lindir watched them until they disappeared from sight. Then, sighing pensively, he entered the house. He neither saw nor sensed the Elf who observed him in turn as he made his way to the study to begin his day’s toils.

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

ellith - Elf-maids (sing. elleth)

Edhil - Elves

ellyn - male Elves

To be continued...
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Greenleaf & Imladris 28 - In His Father's Image