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Twilight Tales - An Ounce of Kindness	By : MPB Category: -Multi-Age > General Views: 26421 -:- 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.

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Chapter XXX

“'Tis easier said than done, isn't it, keeping your distance.”

Elladan barely glanced in response at Legolas as he continued to pound and mix medicinal herbs with a pestle in a heavy, wide-lipped mortar. But he could not stop his cheeks from coloring and this Legolas took for his answer. The archer faintly smiled.

They were in the antechamber of one of the recuperation rooms within the healing halls. Once Galvreth awakened from his prolonged slumber, he was transferred out of the main wards to the cheery apartments that overlooked the garden nigh to the royal pavilion. Now that the prince was considered out of immediate danger, his care could be entrusted to others besides the healers. Thus his father and brothers took turns watching over him, all clamoring for more than a few hours of this loving duty. But Aewithen dared to claim the nights and none had gainsaid her.

She all but moved into the room, sleeping on a pallet at the side of his bed. If this stung a certain Elf-lord, he did not let it be known at large. But sting it did and Elladan visited the convalescing prince just once in the next three days and that once only to examine him. Discomfited by Aewithen hovering protectively throughout the procedure, Elladan requested his brother to take over thence.

Caught in the center of the brewing conflict, Galvreth would have protested had he been haler. But still weak and oft times rendered woozy by the healing potions with which he was continuously plied, not to mention periodically forced to wrestle with his increasingly resurgent memories, he had little energy and even less heart for such an effort. Thus matters proceeded those initial days of his convalescence.

But in the course of the third night, Galvreth suffered a stomach-churning nightmare. The worst it turned out since his dreams began. But none had been aware for the stalwart prince did not tell anyone. Roused from sleep by his fearful moans, Aewithen attempted to calm him and hold him down lest his violent thrashing do him injury anew. But she was no match for his nightmare-driven strength and when she saw small patches of blood begin to stain the sheets beneath him, she panicked and fled the chamber to search for help.

Fortuitously enough, Elladan happened to be making his way down the hallway of the recovery wing. Upon hearing the prince's anguished cries he raced to his room and almost collided with Aewithen as she came out of the chamber. Elladan swiftly took stock of the situation and rushed to Galvreth's bedside.

He quickly clambered onto the cot and pulled the prince into a full body embrace, using his arms and legs to keep him from moving injuriously. All the while, he spoke soothingly to the agitated Elf, using a deep, steady tone that penetrated the latter's fevered subconscious. Galvreth came awake with a shuddering breath.

Dazed, he stared at Elladan in some bewilderment before dissolving into helpless weeping, the emotional storm that wracked him demolishing his restraint. Oblivious of all else but the safety the tender wrap of a powerful body about his shaking frame afforded him, he brokenly pleaded with the older twin not to leave him with his dark dreams. Elladan acquiesced then and every night since.

That was more than a fortnight ago. Not surprisingly, tension sprang up between him and Aewithen. Unable to contain her resentment at being so summarily forgotten, she accused him of attempting to usurp her place in Galvreth's esteem. Setting aside his usual gallantry with females, Elladan snapped back that he was not to blame if she could not meet Galvreth's direst needs. Harsher words might have been exchanged had Thranduil not stepped in and testily declared that his son was no bone for two curs to fight over. They would either work together to help him recover or he would ban them both from Galvreth's bedside.

There was no choice then but to abide the king's edict. They agreed to share night duty. Aewithen continued to sleep on her pallet by Galvreth's cot while Elladan prudently used the couch in the antechamber. That is when he did not spend the night helping Galvreth grapple with his black dreams. Many mornings he would awaken at Galvreth's side for the prince slept most soundly after a nightmarish bout when held in the Elf-lord's unyielding embrace, no doubt his security much buttressed by the feeling of great strength ensconcing him. However, if Galvreth's nocturnal struggles were within Aewithen's ability to manage, Elladan left it to her to do so. He would only rouse her enmity if he deprived her of every chance to be of service to the Elf-prince.

To her credit, Aewithen held her tongue hence and assiduously saw to her nursing duties. To his credit, Elladan did not try to raise his stock with Galvreth at Aewithen's expense but simply did his utmost to be friend and supporter to the prince. Seeing that Elladan was not attempting to undermine her in any way, Aewithen became a shade kinder. For his part, Elladan felt a little more sympathetic toward her, realizing how deep her insecurity ran. Thus, they forged an uneasy peace between them with Galvreth's well-being the mainspring of their truce.

“You have not answered me, gwanur,” Legolas gently prodded.

Elladan paused in his chore and looked at the archer with some vexation. “Galvreth asked it of me, that is all,” he briefly said.

Legolas snorted. “Do not try to deceive me into believing you would have forsaken my brother had he not needed you. Else explain what you were doing in the hallway that night and at such an unholy hour, too.”

The older twin glared at him but the blush that stained his face ruined the effect somewhat. Legolas smiled sympathetically.

“Not that an explanation is needed,” he commented. “We all have our suspicions as to the cause and they are remarkably alike.”

Elladan scowled. “Since you believe you already know, why this inquisition?” he growled.

Legolas smile resolved itself in a chuckle. “A single request for enlightenment does not an inquisition make,” he pointed out good-naturedly.

They heard a soft moan from within the sleeping chamber. At once, Elladan left off what he was doing and began to head for the other room. Only when Legolas rose from his seat and slowly followed him did he remember the archer was still hampered by his leg injuries. He could walk about but not rapidly and his gait was stiff and hardly graceful. He hurried back to offer his law-brother a helping hand. Legolas accepted his aid with a grin.

“When he is hale enough, you should talk,” Legolas counselled as they moved toward the connecting door. “You may surprise each other.”

Elladan looked at him. “How so?”

“If I told you, that would ruin the surprise, now wouldn't it?” Legolas retorted.

Elladan rolled his eyes. “Is it your ambition to match my brother in the art of prevarication?” he grumbled.

“Well, 'tis but natural to pick up a few habits from one's mate,” Legolas replied. “But you would not know that of course. At least, not yet,” he added as if in afterthought.

Elladan's scowl made a renewed appearance but when they came into Galvreth's view he quickly wiped it from his features. Settling Legolas in the bedside chair, he briefly questioned Galvreth about any aches or twinges. Having ascertained that the silver-haired Elf was comfortable, he left the two princes to talk and returned to brewing Galvreth's medicaments for the day. Nonetheless, Legolas' comments haunted him. He wondered whether he would have the courage to do as the archer had advised when the opportunity arose. For if Legolas was mistaken, Elladan feared he would not be able to face defeat as stoutly as Galvreth had.

**********

They moved the fourth prince to his room a month later.

Elladan and Aewithen continued to keep nightly watch over him while his family divided the days amongst them. Thranduil and Aelluin forsook a great many duties to be at his side while Legolas visited him so frequently Elrohir mildly suggested that he take up residence in Galvreth's quarters along with Aewithen and Elladan. And now that he was removed from the necessarily restricted sanctum of the healing halls, his nephews and nieces were permitted to visit him as well. Many a day passed that the soft squeals and piping laughter of Elflings resonated in his room as Elivorn's lively brood elicited many a smile from their ailing uncle. And Lalorn would lay his tiny son in the crook of Galvreth's arm in tacit acknowledgement of the might-have-beens had the brothers not exchanged places that fateful day. Heartily succored and loved whilst deep in the bosom of his family, Galvreth seemed to rally and his father and brothers' hopes rose that he would indeed prove the exception to the rule.

But the twins were not so sanguine. They perceived what the others did not. That while Galvreth's body was mending, his spirit was still in danger of languishing. Shadows lurked in the depths of his eyes, which only their deep healer's sight espied. The brethren suspected that the severity of his nightmares had not truly abated; only his admissions of the toll they took on his spirit had lessened. When he held the prince on the most hideously afflicted nights, Elladan would glean glimpses of the truth but try as he might he could pry little out of Galvreth. The prince would not confide his travails to any. Not even to Aewithen.

***********

Legolas moaned as he was repeatedly drawn into wet warmth, Elrohir's sinuous lips wrapped tight around his shaft. No prude in their conjugal bed, he ran his hands entreatingly through Elrohir's raven locks, gasping his name in feral bliss. When he knew himself close to completion, he thrust wildly into the Elf-knight's mouth until at last he spilled a creamy stream down his mate's throat. Afterwards, he quietly lay in wait for Elrohir's next welcome demand on him.

He felt the Elf-knight's hands slide under his bottom and lift it, push his thighs up and spread them wide. He threw back his head when Elrohir's lips locked onto sensitive flesh, laving him with his tongue before pressing into him in anticipatory mimicry of what was to come. That Elrohir hungered for this deeply intimate taste of him never failed to incite Legolas to nigh unbearable excitement even as it stunned him. He, too, reveled in knowing Elrohir thusly but he had learned early on that Elrohir's proclivity for this particular act went far beyond that of most Elves. It had then been whetted further when he first sampled the archer's graces.

Simply put, Elrohir could not get enough of the sweetness that was uniquely Legolas' and seldom failed to sate his appetite for it. So potent was its attraction that he could find completion just from indulging his desire for it. But he did not do so now for he had a promise to fulfill and he had no intention of delaying it yet again.

They had not waited for Legolas' full recovery to resume coupling. Elrohir however had not permitted over vigorous play and even less for Legolas to sheath him lest either act inadvertently invited a recurrence of injury. But sheath Legolas in turn he had and frequently so once he deemed the archer hale enough for gentle rutting. And with utmost joy and zest did Legolas indulge himself for he was as lustful for his darkling mate as Elrohir was for him.

Yet now he was fully healed and had demanded that the Elf-knight keep his pledge soonest. For as much as Legolas enjoyed possessing his love, even more did he crave possession by him. It was an elemental part of his nature that he should desire for Elrohir to confirm his ownership of him over and again. And to the archer there was no more potent proof of that than Elrohir's exercise of his exclusive right to plunder his graces.

This effusive wanting to be speared and filled and cleaved by his Elf-knight was shatteringly seductive. Just the mere request for it was enough to enflame Elrohir into hauling him off to the first convenient chamber, pantry or curtained recess to grant it. The demand for it in the sanctity of their bed guaranteed a long night's worth of ravishment and likely a need for one of the younger twin's soothing salves the morning after.

Still, Elrohir bided his time easing into his eager spouse for, after the long period of abstinence, the archer seemed and undoubtedly felt as tight as he had his first time of yielding. Legolas gasped at the slight burn as he was stretched even as he was filled then let out a stifled cry when Elrohir brushed him within, fetching him a welling of pleasure. He trembled deliciously as the mild discomfort receded before the burgeoning of acute rapture.

As always, the sight of Legolas abandoning himself to pleasure served to arouse Elrohir even further. But he restrained himself and initially delivered only slow, shallow thrusts, refusing to let their rutting end too soon. Holding Legolas' hips steady, he bent low to kiss the archer's white throat, dip his tongue in the hollow at its base then suck the nipples he had earlier mauled into hard, aching nubs. Legolas pressed up against his marauding lips in wanton complicity in his own ravaging.

Elrohir heard the familiar plea in his mind: Harder, deeper, faster. He obeyed with alacrity for he had sorely missed the snug, velvet heat of his beloved's exquisite body enclosing him. The wrap of his legs around his waist, the sleek sinewy limbs flexing insistently to draw him in further.

Legolas clutched at the beddings, his nerves aflame with ecstasy as Elrohir steadily plunged into him. Everything seemed reduced to the singular sensation of Elrohir's hard flesh repeatedly sliding deep into him. And then the Elf-knight added another sensation by grasping Legolas' shaft and lustily stroking it in time to his thrusts. The archer abruptly called out in wholehearted approval.

They let go and their pleasure surged back and forth between them. In the midst of this sharing, their spirits met and united in that greatest of all intimacies between Elves. Almost fearing that he would expire from the intensity of sensations, Legolas desperately pulled Elrohir down to him and was swiftly rewarded when Elrohir sealed their mouths in scorching union. A moment later, he was shuddering helplessly while the pearlescent ribbons of his spending coated Elrohir's fingers and spattered his belly. His muscles convulsed about the flesh that speared him, setting off Elrohir's completion as well. Legolas moaned in utter felicity when he felt his mate's seed fill him to overflowing that the surfeit trickled out in a creamy rivulet. Elrohir's loving made tangible.

It was long before either spoke afterward, content as they were to simply lie close together in their coupling's wake. Elrohir rested his head on Legolas' shoulder, relishing the gentle weave of strong archer's fingers in his hair. He pressed kisses to the creamy flesh beneath his cheek and delighted in the slight tremor that crept through Legolas' body. This was but a respite and before long he would once more take his pleasure of his mate's glorious form.

Legolas' slipped his fingers under his chin, urging him to look up. When he did, the archer closed his lips upon his and kissed him lengthily with something akin to reverence. Elrohir regarded him curiously when he drew away.

“What is it, meleth?”-love-he murmured.

Legolas smilingly shook his head. “I am only so grateful for your love. By its power did I heal so swiftly.”

Elrohir smiled back. “Nay, not my love for you but your need of it,” he amended.

A faint puzzled frown creased Legolas' brow. “Is there a difference?”

Elrohir shifted upward that they might lie face to face. “A subtle one but a difference nonetheless. If you did not return my love, no matter how deep it ran, it could not help you heal. It would spark no desire in you to recover.”

“For your sake,” Legolas said in comprehension.

“Aye. The healing of our spirits relies on two strengths. The strength of our will and the strength of the ties that bind us. It is a two-fold cure. One without the other is seldom as potent as when both work together. Of the strength of your will I never had any doubt. It has been apparent since your youth. Indeed, 'tis a trait that runs deep in your family. But ere I knew that you had not been defiled, I admit I wondered if your bond with me would prove as strong.”

“Is that why Galvreth is mending so slowly?” Legolas asked.

“You noticed,” Elrohir murmured.

“Not at once. But now that I am well, I see the difference between our lots. I know my injuries do not compare with his but even had I been violated as well, I truly believe I still would mend. I would not leave this life. I would not leave you, rochiren.”-my knight. “Even when I thought myself lost, 'twas only oblivion I prayed for, not death. I wanted you to save me. I longed to see you again.” He hesitated, struggling for the right words. “Ah, I do not fear death itself for I know we shall meet once more. But the loneliness while I wait, that I do fear.”

Elrohir enfolded him in his arms and held him tightly. “Galvreth is strong,” he softly said. “Stronger than any of us ever expected else he would have slipped away from us ere we could repair the damage to his body. But nothing and no one binds him with equal strength.” He paused then grimly said: “Despite what certain quarters wishfully think.”

Legolas sighed. “I urged Elladan to talk to him once he was hale enough,” he softly admitted. “But he has not made a move. Why do you think does he stay himself?”

Elrohir pursed his lips. “I believe he needs to muster his courage. He has resisted giving his heart for so long, he would not know how to cope should it now be turned away.”

“Galvreth would not turn him away.”

“Can we be so certain of that? Their previous parting was bitter to put it mildly. Even if your brother still holds love for mine, he may no longer wish to entrust himself to him. What Elladan would do were that to happen I cannot tell. He has no defense against such a rebuff. He never thought to build one.”

Legolas' mouth tightened. “But what of us? We are his family. Surely Galvreth knows we need him. Why does he not fight to stay with us?”

“Because there is no true future for him with any of you. You are all bound, your hearts given to others, even your father who only awaits your mother's return ere he forsakes these lands. You can only share a fraction of yourselves with him for you are sworn to your mates and any children of your begetting. However much you love him, you cannot make him the centers of your hearts nor would he allow it were it still possible.” Elrohir sighed. “He would perforce live on the periphery of your circles, alone with his memories and fears. 'Tis hardly a strong enough motive to live.”

They fell silent for a long spell while pensive musings held sway. At length, Legolas curled his arms around Elrohir and kissed him with breath-stealing fervency.

He whispered against his darkling spouse's lips, “I am blessed indeed to have won you, Elf-knight. Keep your pledge, beloved. This night I am yours to do with as you wish.”

Elrohir felt his mood lighten at the sensual invitation. “Only this night?” he huskily said, pressing Legolas onto his back.

The archer eagerly spread his legs. “I will want a say on other nights,” he impishly retorted. With that he drew Elrohir down into his body's hot embrace.

**********

Elladan felt a heaviness settle in his heart when he finished reading Elrond's latest letter one afternoon nigh the onset of winter after assembling Galvreth's medicaments for the coming night in the apothecary. The twins had kept their father apprised of the events in Mirkwood as well as asked for his counsel with regard to the treatment the injured princes required. In particular, they had assiduously reported Galvreth's progress or lack thereof.

The Imladrin lord had concurred with everything they had done and even voiced his pride in their skill and dedication. But he, too, worried over Galvreth's desultory struggle to recover in spirit and could not reiterate enough that no matter now strong of will the prince might be, if he was not as strongly bound to life by dint of an all-encompassing reason, it was highly unlikely that he would withstand the pull of death on his battered soul. The only option Elrond could think of was to send him to Aman where he might find peace and healing. That is, if he survived long enough to make the journey to the Blessed Realm.

Elladan sighed despondently. What all-encompassing reason could they possibly give Galvreth to keep him anchored in this life? If even his family and the Elf who now held his heart could not succor his spirit enough to help him regain wholeness, who or what could?

He shoved the letter into the inside pocket of his tunic. His fingers grazed the jewel that nestled within. He curled his fingers around the brooch and as always felt a deep yearning overcome him. He had thought of returning it after their painful break but one look at Galvreth's stony features the following day warned him that to do so would only cause the Elf-prince greater pain. And truth be told Elladan had been gladdened by the chance to hold that precious jewel close though he had been too stubborn, or idiotic, to admit it.

He withdrew his hand and turned to pick up a small tray upon which several small bowls and phials of herbs, oils and salves reposed. After ascertaining that he had not missed anything, he lifted the tray and headed for Galvreth's apartment.

He had just set the tray down in the sitting room when Aewithen emerged from the adjacent sleeping chamber. Elladan stared at her in surprise. The Elf-maid seemed abjectly crestfallen, her eyes red-rimmed from a fit of weeping.

“Aewithen, what is wrong?” Elladan asked.

The maiden started upon hearing his voice. For a moment she stared at him as if in a haze. But then she collected herself and quickly shut the door behind her.

“There is naught wrong, my lord,” she stiffly said. “Save perhaps for your refusal to release my prince from his obligation to you.”

Elladan was roundly taken aback by the sudden attack. “Obligation?” he repeated bewilderedly. “What are you talking about?”

“He is not mending properly, is he?” Aewithen challenged. When Elladan kept silent, her eyes narrowed. “'Tis astonishing that the combined pull of all who love him have not sufficed. Or mayhap 'tis not all that surprising considering what distracts him from seeing to his own needs and therefore hinders him in his efforts to heal.”

Elladan frowned. He gestured toward the closed door. “You allude to our former liaison,” he said. “Yet it is ended and you now stand in my stead. What possible obligation could he feel toward me?”

“To assuage your guilt over your inept handling of the ending of it!” she snapped. “Oh, he may no longer love you but a place in his heart you do have and always will I wager. For it was in you he put all his hopes before you so thoughtlessly crushed them.”

Elladan could not help the flush of shame that burned his cheeks. He wondered what Galvreth had actually revealed to her of their sorry parting and what she had surmised from the prince's subsequent conduct. On the heels of his shame, he knew a fierce pain at her bold assertion that he had indeed lost Galvreth's love.

Aewithen did not relent. “Noble Elf that he is, he cannot bring himself to send you away however much your presence pains him,” she sharply added.

Stung to the core, Elladan gritted his teeth to keep himself from replying in like rancor. “If this is true, why then does he permit me to hold him when he dreams?” he demanded.

“Because you claimed the right and refuse to relinquish your place to another. Yet 'tis not you who brings him comfort but merely the sense of safety your bodily strength provides. His father or brothers can give him this comfort, too, if only you would allow them. But this you will not do for verily you would use this belated service to him to absolve yourself of the wrong you committed against him.”

“Nay! If I do this 'tis because I care about him. I only desire for him to heal,” Elladan hotly replied.

“Then leave him alone!” Aewithen cried. “You play on his scruples whether you intend it or not and thereby tie him to you, will he, nill he! If you truly desire his recovery, set him free!”

Before Elladan could reply, she burst into tears and fled the room. The older twin sank into a chair, his thoughts a-jumble from her scathing accusations.

Was she right, he wondered. Was Galvreth hampered by a sense of obligation toward him? Elladan's shoulders slumped. That had never been his intention. True, his service to the prince was in part his way of making amends to him. But the greater reason was Galvreth's well-being. Above all, his happiness. He had caused the Elf great pain. The least he could do was try to gain him some joy. But out of love, not guilt. His remorse he would endure by himself. That was not Galvreth's to trouble himself over.

His hand went to his left breast. He felt the brooch beneath the fabric of his tunic. Sorrow washed over him then. In his need to hold on to what little was left of their sundered relationship, he had not considered the cost to Galvreth. The prince had made the effort to move on. But he obviously still held enough consideration for Elladan to perceive that something troubled the older twin. He had apparently mistaken Elladan's regret over losing him for guilt at having hurt him. It did not matter. Kind and gallant child of Iluvatar, he had placed Elladan's welfare before his and in the process seriously endangered himself.

With this admission to himself, Elladan felt as if winter had already arrived, so cold did the sudden emptiness within him seem. But he could not deny the truth any longer. Galvreth was no longer his and it was time to release his love from the fetters their past had placed on him. Though his heart ached abominably, he vowed to give Galvreth a future even if it meant the darkening of his own.

The prince looked up when he entered the room. Galvreth was seated on the long couch before the crackling hearth, clad in a long warm robe, his legs propped on a cushioned footstool. When he felt strong enough, he preferred to settle himself thusly rather than remain in bed. Forcing a cheerful smile, Elladan sank on his haunches before him. Stalling for time to gather his courage, he resorted to inquiring after Galvreth's state of health.

“How are your knees?” he asked, running his fingers carefully over the once shattered joints. “I trust you have been following your regimen?”

“Religiously,” Galvreth replied. “Even if it hurts worse than the breaking of them in the first place.”

Elladan had to grin at this show of spirit. “The pain will lessen as your legs regain their strength and flexibility.”

Galvreth snorted. “That is what all healers say. Tell me something I do not know.”

Elladan chuckled briefly. He rose and sat beside Galvreth. “What about your back? Do you still feel any pain?”

“Only a few twinges now and then. But no great pain whether without or within.” He looked curiously at Elladan. “Why these questions when you must know that Elrohir already examined me just this morn?”

Caught, Elladan reluctantly replied: “I wished to reassure myself that you are well enough for me to leave you to his sole care.”

What cheer had graced Galvreth's face faded. “You are leaving Mirkwood?” he said in an expressionless voice.

“Before winter sets in and the mountain passes are blocked,” Elladan affirmed.

“I see.”

Galvreth said no more and stared into the leaping flames in the hearth. Elladan gazed at him, trying to gauge his thoughts or feelings. But the prince's face betrayed nothing of them. Feeling quite lost, Elladan decided to make a quick, clean end of things. He reached into his tunic and withdrew the brooch. The gleam of metal caught Galvreth's attention and he glanced down at the twin's hand. His eyes widened fractionally and then he lifted them to Elladan.

Though it wrenched at his heart to do the deed, Elladan forced himself to place the brooch in Galvreth's palm.

“You gave this to me as a token of your regard for me,” he quietly said. “But that no longer holds true and 'tis not right for me to keep what by all rights is Aewithen's.” He stopped, his throat suddenly too tight for words to squeeze past. When he could speak again, he said: “I wish you naught but joy, Galvreth. I only ask that we part on good terms. Indeed, I pray that you will think kindly of me and - and that you will not regret having known me. I assure you I will never forget your kindness despite - despite…” He faltered then and lowered his eyes, unable to finish.

Galvreth's dolorous sigh roused a frisson of alarm in him and he quickly turned his eyes back to the prince. The latter was once more staring unseeingly at the fire, suddenly looking quite drained.

“Do you recall what you said about fighting to live for her sake?” Galvreth murmured in a strained voice.

“For her sake above all, yea, I recall that.”

Galvreth shook his head. “What she told you is far from the truth. 'Tis absurd to believe that I would permit myself to waste away over some ill-conceived sense of obligation to anyone. Aye, I heard your argument,” he added at Elladan's startled expression. “You were not exactly quiet about it. She spoke to you in anger and for that I cannot truly blame her. For we had just talked and I told her not to hope for more than what I had already shared with her.” The prince smiled sadly. “She knows she is not reason enough, Elladan, and never will be.”

Elladan stared at him in befuddlement, unprepared for the unbidden revelation. Was Galvreth asking him to help? Or informing him that he no longer wished to fight? That he was letting go? And then the point struck home.

“Why is she not reason enough?” he blurted out. “Do you not love her?”

“Only with what is left of my heart. And that is but a fragment of the whole.“ Galvreth closed his eyes, his features pinched and weary. “Wherefore should I hold on to life then?”

Elladan's alarm grew as he noted how distant Galvreth seemed. It was almost as if the prince was willing himself into elven oblivion. Yet coupled with his fear was the barest flicker of hope. If Aewithen had only known a fraction of his love, where then was the better part of it? Cast away or still where it had first been bestowed?

His heart pounding wildly, Elladan took the prince's hand and, gripping it tightly, softly asked, “Would I be reason enough, seron vell?”

Galvreth's sharp intake of breath and his eyes snapping open clearly evinced his shock. Elladan held his own breath as he awaited the other Elf's response.

Galvreth turned to stare at Elladan disbelievingly. “What - what did you call me?” he said in a hushed voice.

Elladan swallowed nervously. “Beloved,” he repeated just a shade shakily. “My heart. My only one.”

The prince's stare grew ever more intense. It smote Elladan's heart to descry the incredulity in his brown eyes but he could not fault Galvreth. His sudden turnaround was hardly the stuff of which reality was made. After a tense spell, Galvreth averted his gaze to look out the windows at the trees outside.

“Attend to me if it mitigates what guilt you harbor, Elladan,” he flatly declared. “But do not pity me. I will not have it.”

Though deeply hurt, Elladan squelched the urge to respond in indignation. There was little reason for Galvreth to believe him so easily. “I do not offer pity or serve you out of guilt,” he staunchly replied. “What I do, I do out of love, Galvreth.” He hesitated, unsure of his next words' reception. “I would bind to you forthwith if you would have me.”

Galvreth visibly stiffened at the unbidden proposal. Without warning, lassitude assailed him and he began to tremble. Feeling lightheaded, he gasped and gripped the armrest in a vain attempt to steady himself.

Swiftly rising, Elladan scooped him up in his arms. Bearing the frail Elf back to his bed, he berated himself for causing him such turmoil when he was still so fragile in body and mind. And he silently cursed Aewithen for having earlier engaged Galvreth in a likewise upsetting discussion. He knew he was being unfair about that but he did not particularly care.

He tenderly laid Galvreth down in the bed and pulled the covers over him. Settling on the bedside chair, he took the other Elf's hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

“Rest, my prince,” he whispered. “I will guard your sleep.”

He started when he felt the slide of cool metal onto his palm. Elladan glanced down to find the brooch resting in his hand once more. He looked at Galvreth wonderingly.

“'Tis yours, Elladan,” the prince murmured, fatigue slurring his words. “Always yours.” Hardly had he finished speaking when he fell fast asleep.

Elladan swallowed hard, not daring to speculate about the meaning of Galvreth's vague last words. Resisting the urge to steal a kiss to which he did not feel himself entitled just yet, he settled for gazing unabashedly at his countenance while he kept watch over him. And felt a welling of gratitude that the privilege was still his to exercise.

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

Glossary:

gwanur - brother or sister but a more accurate translation would be kinsman or kinswoman

apothecary - pharmacy (archaic)

To be continued…
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Twilight Tales - An Ounce of Kindness