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Princes Three: Any Shelter	By : nuwing Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 10324 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- 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 3
Grey Mountains 2151 III
Legolas ducked into the healing tent, a relieved smile spreading across his face as he caught sight of his injured friend. Tiriadon sat on a pallet, a pile of rolled bedding supporting his back and a mug of broth in his hand. A clean white bandage where one red-gold braid should have been was the only real sign of the captain�s injury, though to the prince�s critical eye he remained a bit pale.
�You are looking better,� Legolas said cheerfully, dropping to the ground beside his friend.
�As are you, ernilen,� Tiriadon teased with a grin. �Though I am surprised to see you sit with nary a groan. You were gone for quite a time.�
�I had a nap, if you must know, Tiri,� the woodland prince retorted with mock affront, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
The captain laughed outright, his moss green eyes twinkling. �Aye, Legolas, I can see that,� he snickered. ��Tis obvious from the redness of your ears, and the bite marks on your neck that you had quite a long nap.�
�Oh, Valar,� Legolas groaned, one hand going instinctively to his throat. �Is it that bad? Truly?�
�Indeed it is,� Tiriadon replied breezily, thoroughly enjoying his friend�s discomfiture. �I have seldom seen such glorious bruises, and your ears look nearly raw.� Snickering in spite of himself, he added, �Really, h�ren- such a display. �Tis appalling. What will your troops think?�
Legolas arched one golden eyebrow, punching his tormentor lightly on the shoulder. �They will think �twas high time someone beat you senseless, captain,� he said with a broad grin. �You are simply jealous.�
�As a matter of fact, you did make off with my healer,� Tiriadon agreed, a wince of discomfort distorting his smile. �Where have you left your peredhel, Legolas? My head could use another of those vile concoctions to ease the pain.�
�I think �Dan tarried to give us time to talk,� the prince answered, all teasing forgotten as he helped his friend lie back on the bedding. �I will find him.�
�Hannon chen,� Tiriadon said with a sigh, closing his eyes against the throbbing of his wound.
Legolas cast a last worried glance at the injured guard, then left the tent to search for Elladan. He quickly found the elder twin among those tending the fire. �Tiri is in pain, �Dan,� the prince explained, pulling the dark elf along toward the healing tent. �I am afraid he has taxed his strength in joking with me.�
Tiriadon opened his eyes as the two elves entered the tent, managing a reassuring smile for Legolas despite his pain. �I am well, h�ren,� he protested as Elladan knelt beside him, checking the wound for bleeding. �I need only a pain draught.�
�That is likely, captain, but you will forgive me if I judge for myself,� the elder twin said, looking closely at the injured elf�s eyes. Satisfied, he stood and moved to the collection of herbs and elixirs that spilled from a worn pack, quickly mixing the needed tonic.
Eyeing the cloudy yellow-green mixture suspiciously, Tiriadon drew a deep breath. ��Tis a different color than before. Do I care to know what is in this one?� he asked in resignation.
�Nay, probably not,� Elladan answered with a grin. ��Twould likely only worsen the taste. I added an elixir to help you sleep, and it has changed the color.�
The captain wrinkled his nose at the bitter odor, but swallowed the pain draught obediently. Glancing mischievously at Legolas, he turned back to the dark elf with a smile. The prince followed his friend�s gaze to the deep purple ovals that graced Elladan�s neck. �Tiriadon,� he began warningly, �do not . . . �
The elder twin raised an eyebrow questioningly, looking from one Mirkwood warrior to the other. �Hannon chen,� Tiriadon said, his eyes dancing with mirth as they met the confused grey gaze. �And I am glad to see that you had a nap, also, Elladan.�
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The Borders of Imladris 2151 III
Thranduil breathed deeply, savoring the crisp scent of evergreens and rushing water. Though his party had not yet been challenged, the woodland king knew well that he and his guards had been sighted and judged no threat to the hidden valley.
Even the tired horses seemed refreshed by the cool air, their steps becoming light and eager as the travelers slowly descended the steep path into the vale. The way was winding and narrow, but the elven steeds were surefooted, even over the loose stones that littered the ground. They had been foaled in the gloom of Mirkwood and raised on its treacherous trails, and were more than a match for the natural defenses of Imladris.
Confident in his mount�s abilities, Thranduil let his mind wander freely over the events of the past months. The disclosure of Legolas� involvement with Elrond�s sons. Elrohir�s near-fatal run in with a spider, and the resulting arrival of Elrond and Glorfindel. His renewed relationship with Glorfindel, and by extension, Erestor. The surprising and gratifying changes time and trial had wrought in Anteruon.
The departure of Legolas and the Peredhil twins with the raiding party, their quickly reported successes followed by lengthy silences as they presumably moved further and further from the Halls. According to the most recent missive, they had turned toward the Grey Mountains, following the last of the ruffian bands.
The light-hearted farewells as he had ridden away from the Halls with Elrond and Glorfindel, headed for Imladris, anxious and excited as an elfling on his first venture into the world. The early spring day had seemed full of promise.

A grimace crossed the king�s fair face as his thoughts turned to Barangolas, an unwelcome image of the youngest prince, covered in blood and deathly still rising in his mind. Black blood and red, dry and horribly fresh, running like a stream from the deep gash in his son�s side.
Thank the Valar that the messenger had reached him before the party left the canopy of Mirkwood, and that Elrond had turned back as well, bringing his legendary healing skills to the aid of the fallen woodland prince.
Five months had passed since Elrond and Glorfindel left Mirkwood for the hidden valley, the Balrog-slayer agreeing to go only after Thranduil promised to journey to Imladris ere summer faded. Barangolas was fully recovered, a faint silvery scar the lone reminder of the blow that nearly ended his life- and even that would fade with time. Both the court and the forest were without disturbance for once, and Anteruon had proven himself well able to rule in his father�s absence in the weeks following the youngest prince�s wounding.
Still deep in thought, Thranduil was nearly unseated when his mount stopped short, neighing as though in welcome.
�And a very good day to you, also, Dagorfaen,� an amused voice said, the sentiment seemingly echoed by a fierce snort from the speaker�s snowy white steed.
Thranduil raised his head slowly, a smile spreading across his face as he looked into sparkling blue eyes. Glorfindel sat astride Asfaloth, his golden hair secured in side braids, the silken strands gleaming against the cool blues and greys that were the badge of the Imladris warrior.

So intent in the regard of his lover was Thranduil that he failed to extend the expected formal greeting. When the silence lengthened past bearing, one of the Mirkwood warriors cleared his throat nervously. Still holding the seneschal�s sapphire gaze, the woodland king extended his arm in a traditional greeting and said softly, �Mae govannen, mellonen. We are expected.�
Glorfindel gripped the offered forearm, his lips curling into a dazzling grin. �Mae govannen, Thranduil," he replied. "Welcome to Imladris.�

TBC . . .

Name:

Dagorfaen - �battle spirit� (Thranduil�s horse)
Elvish Translations:

ernilen - my prince

h�ren - my lord

Hannon chen - Thank you

Mae govannen - well met

mellonen - my friend
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Princes Three: Any Shelter