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The Protege III: Protect and Defend	By : alpham31 Category: +Third Age > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 2223 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings is the sole creation of JRR Tolkien. The characters are not mine, and I do not make any money by writing these tales - of course, this, you already knew.

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It was late evening. The valley had served dinner in the halls downstairs, but the kitchen staff was hard pressed to cater to the requests for trays to be sent to the heeling section and its recovery rooms.

Brathina was a cook, and a good one, and her daughter, Eruanna, was quickly following in her footsteps as an able apprentice, yet today they were doubling up as serving maids. They did not mind, however, for they were tending to the prince’s people, and he was an elf who knew how to eat, he had recognized their work as art, in public at the grand opening ceremony, and her family would never forget the honor bestowed upon them. Yet if that had not been enough, today they had saved twelve of their kin, ten of them elflings – their children, and by the grace of Elbereth they had achieved it, although not without paying a price. And so Brathina, Eruanna and the entire household staff, together with Gaerwyn at the fore in the kitchens, worked gladly, for no complaint would pass their lips.

Activity had died down in the healing ward, there was hardly anyone left there, most having been moved into individual chambers, designed for recovery and recuperation. There, the Greenwood warriors lay, lovingly attended to by their civilians, those they had sworn to protect. Others sat outside in the warm spring breeze, and sang songs of rejoicing, victory and recovery – even some of the Imladrians had joined them, wanting to send their best wishes to the Sylvan warriors.

Elladan and Elrohir had bid their father rest, assuring him that they would take the night shift between them. Elrond had felt a surge of pride race through him. He had seen how they had worked through the day, how they had taken command and made all the right decisions. His heart swelled painfully as he whispered words of pride to his lost love.

As he walked back to his chambers, he met Erestor, who looked worn.

“Erestor, have you dined?”

“Nay, I thought to slip into the kitchens and see what I can procure for myself. I thought to take a tray to my rooms.”

“Come, accompany me, for I will be requesting a tray to be brought up, join me?”

With a tired smile, Erestor fell into step with his lord, happy for the company.

Once at Elrond’s door, the lord eagerly pushed it open, only to find himself nose to nose with Maeron, the royal healer.

“Maeron, forgive me, my friend!” he exclaimed, for he had very nearly bowled the fellow over.

“Do not apologize, my Lord, I was just leaving.”

“Is all well, he asked as he looked over the healer’s shoulders. The only elf who would enter his private chambers without his explicit permission was Glorfindel, and indeed there he was, sitting in a plush armchair besides the bed, the bed that was not empty.

“All is now well, my Lord, nothing too serious, just a few days rest and recovery. Sleep well, my Lords.”

And with that, he was gone, walking down the now deserted corridor, headed for his own chambers and blissful oblivion.

Moving over to the bed, he waited for Glorfindel to elaborate, for Legolas was insensate, naked under a thin sheet covering his middle.

Glorfindel turned his head then, smiling up at Elrond. He looked changed, although Elrond knew not how, there was simply something out of place, something new, perhaps.

“Well, general, tell me why is it you are sitting here still in your battle gear, smelling of orc and smiling like an elfling baking bread!”

Erestor could not help it, and despite his worry for the prince, he chuckled as the image of Glorfindel in the kitchens, came to his over-active mind.

“Elrond, he took an arrow to the side, for the love of Este!” He said nothing and left it to me to find it, quite by chance, and then blithely suggesting that I just pull it out, I Glorfindel, warrior not healer!”

“And that is why you are grinning? You have me confounded, Glorfindel,” complained Erestor as he followed Elrond to the bed.

The healer turned his attention to the elf in his bed, inspecting the bandages wrapped around the trim waist. He pulled them back, enough to reveal the wound as he raising his other hand to gently prod at the surrounding area. Legolas moved not an inch, totally oblivious to the master’s inspection.

“It must be painful. His threshold must be high,” he said, almost to himself.

Erestor moved behind Glorfindel and placed both palms on his shoulders.

“Go and bathe, Fin. Change and come back. We will care for him and order some food brought up – go,” he urged.

He was loathe to, but needed to get out of his filthy gear and so he heeded them, taking one last tender look at Legolas, before walking to the door and disappearing into the corridor.

Elrond continued his auscultation, noting the cut to the head that would need some attention, and the cut to his thigh, which would need disinfection. The bruise to the side of his face must have been painful, he thought, for it was already turning light purple. Again, he would have to see to this.

“Erestor, help me carry him into the bathing chamber, I must rinse out this mess,” he said, gesturing to the matted hair. Then perhaps you can you order some food for the four of us?”

“Of course, bring him while I prepare the water for you.”

………………………………………………………………………………………

Glorfindel was soon back, and in that short time he had bathed and changed into comfortable, loose-fitting clothes. He found his friends settling Legolas on the bed, which had been turned down. Erestor was drying his now clean hair, careful not to aggravate the cuts and bruises, while Elrond arranged his limbs into a comfortable position.

Legolas was slowly emerging from his sleep - but this was no ordinary sleep, and it took much longer to shake the lethargy. Struggling with his eyes, he tried and failed to focus, trying again until he saw Elrond’s concerned face leaning over him.

“Take your time, ‘tis only I, Erestor and Glorfindel. You have been in a healing sleep and will feel a little groggy for a while. Here, drink a little,” he urged, placing a glass of fresh water to his lips.

Legolas relaxed a little, knowing that he was in the company of those he trusted most, sucking clumsily from the offered vessel, for he had a raging thirst.

A knock at the door revealed Eruanna and her mother, bearing trays laden with foods fit for convalescing elves. Walking over to the table placed near the window, Eruanna allowed her eyes to stray to the occupant of the massive bed. He was hurt and not quite lucid, as the master of the house employed his talents on his patient. She wanted to touch him, thank him, kiss his forehead tenderly, but she did not dare, and so she obediently followed her mother towards the door, sparing one last glance at the prince, who was watching her leave, a smile upon his lips – Eruanna was left with the thought that he had read her mind, had known what she wanted to say, for his smile had been one of thanks.

After the door closed, Elrond watched Legolas as he blinked slowly, clearing his fuzzy vision to look upon the healer.

“They wish to thank you, as do I, Legolas. Your selflessness saved the lives of our children,” he said, as he sat beside his patient and smoothed back his damp hair, placing a soft kiss to his immaculate brow. “I name you
The truth was that he had not reasoned his actions, it had been a simple choice; the forest was in agony and had called out to him, it was his job to protect them and that is what had spurred him on. Later, albeit before the battle, he knew what the odds were and what he was fighting for, not only his protégés but the lives of 12 civilians, and yes, he had been honored to see them to safety – he was a warrior, and that was the nature of his duty.

“Elrond, you honor me and mine with your words. ‘Tis my assigned task in this life to protect the forests of our world, and by default all that moves within. It was a great honor to serve you and your people.”

Glorfindel stared at his love, while Elrond stared at the floor, contemplating the prince’s words.

Legolas smiled languidly, blinking slowly as he reached for Elrond’s hand.

“For you, I would move a mountain, travel to the very pits of Mordor if need would have it, for there is nothing I would not do for you.”

Glorfindel shivered at the prince’s words. He should have felt jealous of his pledge to Elrond, and yet somehow he knew it had not been a lover’s pledge, but one of deep friendship and duty. He knew not how he knew, yet he did. He seemed capable of understanding Legolas’ meaning despite his words, or lack thereof.

“Now,” said the general, “stay with us long enough to eat, prince, then you may enter your healing sleep once more for as long as you wish.”

“Hungry,” he murmured, as the lethargy began to take him once more. Erestor and Glorfindel hoisted him up into a semi-reclining position, hoping he would stay awake long enough to ingest some food and liquid. As the soup was placed before him, he recovered his senses somewhat, and sipped on the warm broth, hands still shaking. Glorfindel leant over and held a mushroom delight to Legolas’ lips. He opened them slowly, extending his moist pink tongue, taking his first taste of the magnificent morsel. Glorfindel pushed it into his mouth, trailing his finger over the prince’s bottom lip as he watched him chew, smiling up at his lover angelically, a hint of provocation in his weary eyes.

“Glorfindel, do not fluster your prince, no strenuous exercise,” said Elrond, smirking over at Erestor, who grinned back.

“I would not dream of it, at least not today. Now tomorrow…”

“You are presumptuous, general. However, if you would be so kind as to relieve me of this tray, I would like to sleep. Worry not for the noise, my friends, for I will not hear it, but please wake me for breakfast?” he asked, knowing that if he did not make that clear, he would be left to slumber well into the afternoon.

And so the Lords of Imladris took their turns to place a tender kiss to the prince’s sweet lips before his eyes glazed over, and then closed, leaving his lovers to sit before the hearth and contemplate on the day’s most extraordinary events, as they ate from their own trays.

…………………………………………………………………………………………….

It was well past dawn, and the enticing smells wafting up from the kitchen finally roused the occupants of Elrond’s private suite. Elrond rose first and readied himself, swiftly followed by Erestor, who had a full agenda today, taking over some of his lord’s duties so that he may spend more time in the healing rooms.

Glorfindel shuffled over to a still sleeping Legolas, whose eyes were slowly and sluggishly opening to the world. Glorfindel placed a kiss to his brow as Elrond bent over the prince, placing one hand to the side of his bruised face, grimacing at the look of it.

“Your sleep was deep. Sit up slowly, take your time.”

“Aye, a moment he rasped, which is when he realized that he must have slept with his mouth open, for his throat was as dry as charcoal. Erestor approached then, with a glass of fresh water and a kind smile.

Legolas took the glass and drank deeply, returning the smile and bidding a good morning to his friend. Sharing a sweet kiss, Erestor walked from the room to attend to his duties.

When Legolas made to move from the bed, both Elrond and Glorfindel made it clear they did not think that was a good idea.

“I promise I will not over-exert myself. It is best I take breakfast with you in the halls, my people need to see me, otherwise you will find no peace, Elrond, and neither shall I.”

Considering Legolas’ words, he finally conceded, so long as he accepted Glorfindel’s escort and help for the day, which was more than fine with the prince.

…………………………………………………………………………………….

Legolas’ attendance, had indeed been important and had served to set his people’s minds at rest, talking to them as they shared the informal meal. He had enquired of his warriors’ injuries and was promptly updated by their appointed care givers. All were resting comfortably and so Legolas bid them rest for the day, for the political debates would soon begin.

Glorfindel led Legolas out into the morning sun, heading for the gardens just beyond the courtyard. A morning stroll was just what his lover would want, and besides, Glorfindel wished to speak to him privately.

High-pitched giggling echoed around the trees and bushes of the surrounding gardens, children were at play for sure. Stepping out into a small clearing, they came to an abrupt halt, observing the group of elflings who were … dressed like the prince? They were engrossed in their game, sparing with wooden sticks - a common site amongst children, except for the fact that they had stripped themselves down to their leggings, and had braided their hair at the sides, tall twigs peaked from over their shoulders in the fashion of a mighty long bow. No sooner had they set eyes on Legolas, than their eyes bulged as they sprinted into the trees, one little boy with a squeal of horror.

It was too much for Glorfindel, who snorted through his nose before bellowing out his mirth to the heavens, gasping for air and then promptly wheezing it all out again.

Legolas, however was mortified, for they had been truly frightened of him. He had noticed this after the battle just yesterday, but had attributed it to the stress and anxiety of having witnessed bloodshed at such a tender age. However he had been wrong.

Glorfindel noticed his discomfort and so tried to control his laughing as he placed his hand on the prince’s shoulder, smiling in sympathy.

“You take it too seriously, Legolas. ‘Tis not a bad thing that you scare people so, for that is the purpose of your tactic, and yet there is a downside to it, one that has nothing to do with battle. “

“I know, yet it is not natural, Glorfindel, to scare the young ones so, ‘tis not in my nature to be comfortable with this at all.”

“It will pass, you will see.”

“I know. Come, let us go down to the pond, for I admit the morning has tired me.”

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Glorfindel was hesitant about how to broach the subject. It had been so little time and he felt that perhaps Legolas would feel he was being overbearing. However he knew that his lover was nothing if not perceptive and so he walked over to the edge of the water, settling the prince under a willow, whose branches arched over into the water.

“I wanted to speak to you privately, Legolas, after yesterday’s events. I was angry with you…”

“Yes, I know.” Legolas also thought he knew why, but decided to let Glorfindel speak.

“I wondered at myself then. I pondered the reasons why I could ever be angry with you, and the answer shook me, prince.”

Legolas was staring intently at his lover, his stomach was telling him he was on the edge of a decisive moment, and he could see that for Glorfindel it was the same.

“I was angry because I wanted to torture and kill those that had harmed you, but I couldn’t for you had already done that. The ire turned to anger at you, because you placed yourself in danger and I could have lost you, and then I realized that all these emotions come down to the same thing; I could not bear to lose you because, because I love you, forest prince.”

He held Legolas’ regard, hoping with all his heart that he would not reject him, praying that he would return if only a fraction of the feelings he had for him.

Legolas’ head tilted subtly to the side as his eyes smiled. He felt a wave of beauty and serenity wash over his soul and he closed his eyes as he tilted his head back towards the sun, savoring the moment of bliss before he turned his face once more to his lover.

“I have always loved you, Lord of Gondolin. Since the moment I saw you, I could not comprehend how or why I loved you from the very beginning. I revere you above all others, Glorfindel, twice born warrior, Lord of the House of the Golden Flower, friend to Legaelair, lover of his great grandson.”

Glorfindel’s eyes were wide, as was his smile as he threw his head back and rejoiced to the Sun.

………………………………………………………………………………

After a private lunch with Mithrandir, Elrond, Glorfindel, Erestor and the Lords of Lorien, the six elves stepped out into Celebrian’s gardens.

Legolas felt pleasantly sated and somewhat tired. He would settle himself somewhere shaded and nap for a while, try to come to terms with that fact that he loved and was loved. The wizard for his part, sat a little apart, for he wished to smoke and think, and then he also wished to give Galadriel her moment with the prince.

The group had settled at the banks of the small lagoon at the base of one of the many waterfalls that surrounded Imladris. Rocks littered the perimeter, which gave way to crystal clear waters and bright green moss. Legolas leaned against a large boulder, his face turned to the sun, while his lovers shed their clothing and dived into the transparent water together with Celeborn, who had surprised Legolas at how he changed when in informal company. Galadriel, however, stayed with the prince, for she had seen her chance; and of course she had no intention of stripping in front of her son-in-law.

Legolas smiled sleepily as he observed the feisty lords, frolicking and splashing each other. He wished he could join them and it must have shown on his face, for Galadriel chuckled at him.

“You wish to dive in and mortify your lovers…”

Well, if she could be direct, Legolas could be cuttingly so, and so he answered her, the smile never leaving his face.

“I would do more than mortify them, my Lady, alas I am not yet fit enough to do so.”

She smiled genuinely then, for she respected wit and rhetoric.

“Indeed, and from what I can see, Elrond would let you.”

“Do you object?”

“’Tis not for me to judge, Legolas. He is my son-in-law, as you know. I hold deep affection for him, sorrow and grief have bound us together.”

“If it is any relief to you, I will tell you that I will never hurt him, for he has become dear to me. Yet more than this, I am tied in some way to his family, your family. There is something I have not yet understood, something that escapes my grasp, just beyond the frontier of my conscience…”

He had been talking to himself almost, looking down to the grass, his expression lost, yet Galadriel was staring at him like a hawk; she observed every move, every twinge, expression, processed every word he had said.

“You have foresight?” she asked, although somewhat rhetorically.

“To an extent, but it has been acquired, Galadriel, I was not born this way. I do not see future events, I feel emotions, pick up nuances that others do not, yet in this my destiny, the feelings are much stronger, as if the structure of a story is being laid out before me, but without the words, do you…”

“I do understand, Legolas. More than you know. From what you say, you have a pre-ordained destiny before you, yet you hide your true identity from those that love you best.”

“Nay, I do not hide it, I wait for the right time.”

“You are tired. Sleep Legolas, you are safe here.”

“Forgive me,” he said then, as he heaved a sigh and allowed his eyes to glaze and his head to loll.

She smiled as a mother would then, for he looked so sweet and calm sprawled under the tree, sleeping peacefully, and a sudden desire to protect washed over her, making her eyes widen for a moment, for the feeling had been strong, violent almost. Unknown to her, Mithrandir observed her just as closely as she did the prince.

As four wet elves approached the glade, Galadriel placed a finger to her lips in a silent plea for silence. Glancing at the sleeping prince, they sat themselves down and dried off, lounging back and dozing in the afternoon sun; even Galadriel was lulled into a state of semi-vigil, cradled in the arms of a mighty oak.

“You will make me jealous.”

Legolas jerked awake violently, surprising Glorfindel whose head was resting on his shoulder.

“What, what is it?”

“Nay, ‘tis nothing. Which of you spoke?” he asked, still a little disorientated, although the looks of incomprehension on the faces in front of him told him what he needed to know, they had no idea what he was talking about.”

“No one spoke, prince.”

………………………………………………………………..

Dinner was not taken in the public halls that evening, for Legolas was convalescing, and was urged to join the lords on the balcony of Elrond’s private quarters.

All had dressed informally, although Legolas more than any, for he wore a loose-fitting shirt to accommodate the thick bandaging that surrounded his trim waist. A warm breeze played with dark and light hair, flickering the candles so that their light danced on the walls and tapestries, bringing them to life.

As the serving elves laid out the first course, Glorfindel, once again, snorted uncontrollably through his nose, wheezing a mighty rush of air over the candle in front of him. Legolas smiled although one eyebrow was arched high into his forehead.

“Glorfindel,” said Erestor, frowning and smiling at the same time. “You have been laughing like that all afternoon, snorting like a hog – you will do yourself a mischief, my friend. What has you in such a state?”

“Aye, pray tell, general,” coaxed Celeborn, avid for a good tale.

Everyone’s attention was fixed on the warrior, but Legolas simply stuck his fork violently into a succulent mushroom, making the juice inside fly out, hitting Glorfindel and wiping the mirth straight off his face, as the prince chuckled merrily, for he had not meant to do that, it had been proverbial revenge.

However, this only served to convince Glorfindel that the telling of the tale was more than justified, no one squirted Glorfindel of Gondolin with mushroom juice and got away with it, prince or no.

Wiping the offending liquid from his face, he began the story of the children and how they were playing ‘Forest Prince’, finishing with a, “and off they scampered, squealing into the bushes!” Lo and behold, four simultaneous snorts could be heard, even from the gardens below. Galadriel herself had covered her mouth daintily, chuckling her mirth along with the others. By this time, even Legolas had come to see the hilarity of the situation, and added his own childish laughter to the ensemble, laughter which lasted well into the main course.

With dinner finished, the lords ambled over to the sitting area, sipping on a glass of apple liqueur.

Legolas stared into the dancing flames, still unable to forget the deep, suggestive voice that had spoken to him in the gardens, for he knew who it had been, and he wondered at its significance.

THE END

Coming soon: The Protégé IV: Lord of the Forests
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The Protege III: Protect and Defend