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An Honourable Assassin	By : narcolinde Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 3998 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: 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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Strike Three

The Ball was set a mere three days away, barely enough time to arrange the details but the Twins dared not wait longer in case the Wood Elf was called away back to his gloomy forest, which everyone knew was in a constant state of war against the Wraiths in Dol Guldur. Besides, as long as there was plenty to drink and lots of food, nobody would care too much if the decorations and the entertainment were rather lacking.

Lindir was absolutely in a panic of Valarian proportions, certain he was being punished by Elrond for that brief dalliance with his sons, and frantically tried to find musicians, magicians, thespians, jugglers and/or contortionists not already booked for other people's parties. He was not successful. In the end, he had to coax Glorfindel into presenting a stirring dramatisation of his heroic battle in which the guests would be induced to participate (how Lindir didn't know yet but supposed vaguely he'd have to drug the wine with potent hallucinogenic compounds). Of what form this coaxing took nobody had to guess for the minstrel spent the entirety of the following day in the spa trying to recover both his health and his flagging self-respect.

Lord Elrond, ensconced in his laboratory attempting to duplicate his recent success, was utterly oblivious to the entire affair.
As for the Twins, they were prepared to relax and await the fulfilment of their efforts, though they themselves were in truth expending very little of the effort. Yet, as is often the case, no sooner had they given up hope of running into their sylvan quarry than they started seeing him practically everywhere they looked. Maddeningly, this was always at a distance and always in the company of Erestor.

Taking his morning tea on the veranda beside the Evening Room, Elladan spied the two striding across the open fields far beyond the tailored grounds. They were returning from a hunt and both had a brace of birds thrown over the shoulder, laughing and talking congenially but not touching or flirting as far as he could tell. Just good friends, yes, that's what it looked like. He reported this to his brother and both took it as a positive sign.

At midmorning they were taking a long hike through the grounds when they reached an impressive overlook above one of the falls and heard lilting laughter below. Daring to lean out over the precarious lip of slippery stone, they spied Legolas and Erestor diving and swimming in the pools beneath the roaring falls. In haste the brothers scrambled down the cliff but it was the sort of outcrop that defied speedy descent and by the time they got to the bottom no one was there. In vain they cursed their bad luck and suddenly heard the same lovely voice above them. Looking up, they spied the seneschal pointing out various landmarks to the Wood Elf. While they'd been climbing off the promontory their elusive lover and his dangerous shadow had been scaling it. This time Erestor kept a hand on Legolas' shoulder as though fearful he might slip and fall. That the Wood Elf allowed it they took as a rather bad omen.
Next, Elrohir was in town purchasing a few new sex toys for he and his brother to try on their new lover, choosing a wide variety of implements in equally varied sizes, shapes, colours, and degrees of kinkiness since he'd only had one glimpse of the Wood Elf and couldn't accurately estimate his specific proportions, internal and external, or his taste in erotic games, when he spotted the unlikely couple coming out of the Society for the Preservation and Replication of Extreme Creations of Ultimate Mortality. It was an armoury specialising in Ancient Weaponry. The Wood Elf was carrying a truly evil-looking devise that resembled a spear but with multiple jutting blades and grotesque hooks shaped like hawks' bills sprouting from its top. Some of them had Jewelled pseudo-eyes. Erestor had a staff that was in fact a sort of axe with four right-angled heads at both ends. He swung it playfully at the Wood Elf who parried it casually with the vile spear; they laughed merrily as they passed by without ever noticing Elrohir was there. He reported that to Elladan and both fell into morose contemplation of what it could mean.

And then at dinner that night they simply strolled into the family dining hall and sat down to eat as if they'd been doing so all along. Erestor gave the brothers a sneering, pitying sort of smirk and made the introductions.

"Oh, Legolas, these are Elrond's sons, Elladan and Elrohir. I don't believe you've met."

"Mae govannen," said Legolas politely, rising and giving a short bow and a pleasant smile. "I have heard much of you; your diligent work is lauded by my people."

"Thank you," Elrohir smiled, standing to reach across the table and offer his arm. "We've been hoping to meet you before the Ball. I'm Elrohir."

"Yes, I know," Legolas laughed as though he thought the idea that he couldn't tell them apart silly, which he did. "I received your invitation and that is most gracious of you, but unnecessary. I'm not here officially."

"Your presence is most certainly felt, Ernilen, officially or not," announced Elladan gallantly. He stood and held forth his hand. "We could not ignore such an unexpected pleasure."

Legolas' brows rose minutely as he took the proffered hand in a firm grip. His bright blue eyes took on the hard glint of steel as he looked them up and down. "You flatter me," he said quietly, the tone holding the cold, flat note of censure. "I'm sure the event will be most fitting and quite entertaining." He sat and returned his attention to Erestor. "What say you? Mayhap we should hold the sparring match tomorrow morning, for too much merry-making tends to dull the reflexes and leaves one ill with headache and nausea."

"Nay, not for you it doesn't and I am not so old that I can't curtail my drinking before reaching that level of inebriation. Yet it isn't a bad idea at that. Then we could spend the following day exploring the caverns."

"Valar! I can't say I want to go wandering in that labyrinth whilst suffering the after affects of one of the soirees for which Imladris is renowned," Legolas disagreed with a somewhat chagrined laugh.

"Are we renowned for great parties?" Elrohir tried to insinuate himself into their conversation. "I never heard that before."

"Renowned for superb hospitality," corrected Legolas with a serene smile of cool dismissal, "and a State Ball given for the benefit of a visiting foreigner is certainly one aspect of that celebrated graciousness." He turned back to the seneschal. "Why don't we plan on the morning at the spa to rest and recover and the afternoon at the caves. We can camp in the Chamber of the Moon Pool and make a meal of blind albino bass."

"A wonderful suggestion," agreed Elladan with enthusiasm. "I think we shall do the same; what do you say, muindor?"

"Aye, I cannot imagine a better itinerary for the day after the Ball. Would you mind if we join you?" Elrohir asked sweetly.

"Yes," said Erestor and "Not at all," said Legolas and both together, of course. They laughed and Erestor shrugged away his ire. "If you wish it, I do not object."

"Nay, I don't mind. The more the merrier. Besides, I want to clear the debris from that collapsed tunnel and we'll need help doing it."

"Collapsed tunnel?" said Elrohir, an uneasy edge to his voice. "Why would you want to disturb a passage Nature seems intent on having shut?"

"To see what's behind it, of course," Legolas smiled while below the table his foot toed Erestor's ankle. Erestor took the hint and played along, knowing full well there was no fallen ceiling with which to contend.

"Yes," he said, "the ancient lore tells of a Dragon that once had a nest in there. We want to find out if that's true."

"What is this nonsense? There has never been a Dragon in this region of Arda and well do you know it, Erestor."

The voice announcing this caustic challenge in irritated and bewildered tones did not belong to either of Elrond's sons but to Elrond himself. He had come away from his lab at last, driven by hunger and recalling the news of a visitor, and arrived on silent feet at the threshold of the dining hall in time to overhear this preposterous statement. He stood, fists propped on his hips, regarding them in mild disfavour, grey eyes moving from one to the other until they came finally to rest on the fair face of the unknown stranger. His eyes popped wide. His lips parted and then shut. He stood rigid as his hands fell to his sides. He froze, emptied of thought, inundated by a wave of nostalgic deja vú.

"Adar?" said his sons in unison.

"Ah, Elrond, yes, the Dragon. Well, you know, it's something I heard from a peddler that came through Dunnland a century or two ago and…Oh, have you met Legolas yet?" Erestor stammered through this bizarre introduction as the Wood Elf slowly stood.

"Lord Elrond, it is a great honour to meet you at last," he said, bowing. "I have read with interest your treatise on the formation of alkyds in the soils of the Brown Lands. My own investigations point to the same conclusions and I hope it is not too much to enquire as to the progress of your endeavour?" This speech had the effect of releasing the noble Lord from his catatonic fit and a huge smile broke out over his features.

"Have you? I, too, have had the pleasure of perusing your articles in last year's edition of Hannas ar Istad (Wisdom and Knowledge). That you found the sludge and obtained a sample was heroic work, mellon, heroic work," he enthused, taking a chair next to Legolas and reaching for food.

Legolas assisted, serving him and waving away the hovering servants except to snap his fingers and point at the wine, an accusing frown on his features to see it had not already been poured for the Master of the House, not wanting to interrupt the great lore-master's words.

"There had to be a source, you see," Elrond was saying between bites, "and I was confident of it, but to have the actual proof…Well, it bolsters one's resolve. The critics have not been kind so I cannot thank you enough. Your findings completely vindicated my entire thesis." He absolutely beamed at his guest and looked him over well, pleased with what he saw. "I hope you do not take offence, but I had no idea you would be so young, based on the quality of the writing and the keen grasp of the science involved. I envisioned a First Age elder."

To this Legolas laughed brightly. "Nay, just a student at the very beginnings of knowledge, I'm afraid. Whatever comprehension I possess is largely due to the exhaustive studies you have made. If I am wise, it is but borrowed wisdom."

"Being young and properly brought up, you are compelled to exhibit modesty and it suits you," Elrond nodded approvingly. "Yet you have justly earned my admiration, please accept my genuine appreciation for your work."

"Thank you, Hîren," Legolas dipped his head politely but no one could miss the wide smile or the soft blush that transformed his face. "If it is not too bold to ask," he raised a set of very bold blue eyes, "perhaps after the meal you would allow me to visit your laboratory."

"Nothing would give me more pleasure," Elrond answered and reloaded his plate, pointing at Legolas' half-eaten food. "Is it not to your liking? I can have something else prepared for you."

"Oh, I am too excited to eat, perhaps later." He passed Elrond the dish of duck and held it while he stabbed up chunks of the succulent meat. He watched in fascination as the famous ellon chewed and swallowed, mesmerised as if the activity was the most enthralling thing he'd ever witnessed, and hung on every word the Elf Lord uttered. Between them they behaved as though there was no other person in the room. When they rose to leave, Legolas at last turned to Erestor and laid his fingers lightly on the seneschal's shoulder, a feathery touch, to be sure, but weighty with a degree of familiarity that could not be hidden. "Mellon, I am likely to become engrossed in the laboratory. Would you come and retrieve me for Moon Rise?"

"Of course, mellon," smiled Erestor, patting the fingers gently. "Go along and have your science lesson." He chuckled as Legolas practically floated out of the room in Elrond's wake, asking questions the meaning of which none of the dining hall's remaining occupants could comprehend. Glancing at the confused and dumbstruck Twins, Erestor felt a small spark of sympathy for them. Very small. "Don't worry, he'll still go to your grand party, but that is all you'll ever get him to do." Well, he didn't actually feel sorry for them, it is true, for their reputation as proficient but somewhat careless lovers was well known. Erestor left them, anticipating the planned Moon Rise ritual with Thranduil's lovely, intelligent son.

Alone, the brothers took themselves back to their floor of the house and skulked into their study where they threw themselves into their favourite chairs and sulked. After stewing in grim silence a time, Elrohir got up and retrieved a large decanter of highly intoxicating liquor, tossed the stopper across the room, took a huge swig, and passed the container to his brother as he resumed his seat.

"What in Mordor just happened?" he demanded.

"I was there but I can't seem to piece it together," Elladan shook his head and wiped his mouth on his sleeve, passing the bottle back.

"I'll tell you what happened," Elrohir pointed at his brother with the decanter, took a swallow, and repeated himself. "I'll tell you what happened; that Mirkwood fake just spurned us in favour of our Adar's dry discourse on soil chemistry." He handed the spirits off again.

"We shall never live this down."

"And Erestor's reaction was telling, oh yes."

"Aye, he didn't seem to mind being shunned."

"Would you if that delicious golden dream was going to spend the Moon Rise with you?"

"No."

"No."

The decanter became steadily emptier as they continued this morose discussion.

"I think we're done," sighed Elladan at last.

"What? I refuse to give up without ever trying."

"What's the use? If Erestor is so sure of his place that he can laugh off Legolas' obviously keen interest in Ada's pet project, then Lindir must be right. Ring or no ring, Legolas is his."

"Then why all the secrecy and hiding?"

"Maybe there wasn't any. Erestor might have told Ada he was having a guest over and he forgot about it."

"True, Ada is very distracted these days."

"Ada has been very distracted for years," corrected Elladan.

"No, you're forgetting Lindir's reaction and the way everyone else pretended not to know anything. And there's the Thranduil connection, too. No, something isn't quite right here and what kind of sons would we be if we let this Mirkwood prince make a fool of our Adar and shatter our kinsman's soul?" Elrohir decided it was time to resurrect the Noble Deed scenario.

"Then we proceed?"

"We proceed."

All they actually proceeded to do that night, however, was to get stinking drunk and fall asleep in their clothes sprawled awkwardly over the couches in the sitting room.

It was nearly dawn when Elladan awoke, head pounding, stomach churning, bladder burning, and neck aching. He groaned and dragged himself upright, belching a nasty smelling bubble of gas that made him groan and get up from the sofa to escape it. His clothes were wrinkled and reeked and clung to his sweaty skin, plus his leggings were all bunched up around an irritatingly hard erection constrained against his thigh. Another groan. Slowly, Elladan started discarding the garments and felt better once he was naked, though he glared at his cock, standing all straight and eager while he was poised between the need to vomit and the degree of pain doing so would cause his already throbbing scull. He rose unsteadily and headed for the balcony, reasoning that the cool, fresh air might help cure all three conditions, and lowered himself carefully into a chaise.

A light breeze caressed his naked skin and soothed his misery and when his hand found its way to his stiff shaft he suddenly felt much better. He decided what he needed was a pleasing fantasy and a gratifying release and chose the desirable and thus far unattainable Wood Elf to provide it. He wondered if Legolas liked to suck cock and decided that yes, of course he did, and would delight in sucking his. He gave another moan, softer and filled with longing as he imagined the graceful sylvan body poised above him, those delectable lips firmly seated round his aching penis, a hot wet tongue teasing his slit. His hand began to move faster and he was on the verge of orgasm when voices reached him from below. Instantly he stopped, fearful someone might overhear his noisy moment of exultant culmination during which he would surely sing out the Wood Elf's name.

"I'm sorry, Ernilen, I didn't know Elrond's sons would be here. Their presence is sure to complicate things."

Elladan's eyes widened and he sat up, for there was only one elven prince currently in Imladris, or in all of Arda for that matter, and his attention was instantly engaged. He did not recognise the speaker's voice and this made the words all the more cryptic and suspicious. The answering voice, however, was unmistakably Legolas'.

"Somewhat, yet their interest may work to my advantage. The mission is not compromised, mellon."

"Your confidence is inspiring, Ernilen. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Just keep me apprised of Elrond's movements, as you have been doing. It is imperative that he remain aloof until the right moment. I don't want my purpose revealed too soon."

"As you wish. What about Erestor?"

A light laugh sounded. "Do not be concerned; I know how to handle Erestor."

That was more than Elladan could abide, for it was clear the Mirkwood prince was plotting some cruel blow against Elrond's House in retaliation for the old wounds given long before he could ever have been imagined, much less conceived. Hastily and silently he stole back inside, grabbed his shirt from the floor, and ran for the stairs, wrapping it about him as he went. Determined to confront this snake in peacock's feathers, he leaped from landing to landing, clearing the three flights in desperate speed, but when he reached the courtyard beneath his rooms there was no one there. The conspirators had concluded their secret council and separated, vanishing into the pre-dawn darkness.

"Naneth nestagel galadh nâr! Nestegi sarnas!" (Mother f*cking tree rat! F*ck a pile of rocks!) he shouted and slammed his fist against an innocent tree trunk.

"Elladan!" Elrond's shocked, outraged voice boomed through the air and his son spun to face him, shaking his hand from the pain of hitting the resilient bark. "What vile spirit has possessed you to make you utter such sickening profanity in our home?" Elrond sniffed, his nose wrinkling in severe displeasure as he eyed his eldest from the crown of tangled hair to the shirt tied haphazardly about his waist to the tips of his bare toes. "You've been drinking," he sighed and shook his head sadly, all anger gone. "I thank the Valar your mother does not know how low you have sunk. Sometimes I despair of your future, ion. What am I to do? How can I open your eyes to the darkness surrounding your spirit?"

"Nay, Ada, you don't understand. It's true I was drinking but it was hours ago and I've slept it off, mostly, and when I awoke I overheard that Mirkwood spy plotting against you and Erestor. He's Thranduil's son, Ada, and he's here for revenge." Elladan gripped his father's shoulders tight and peered into his eyes, willing him to believe.

"Elladan," Elrond smiled, eyes becoming misty at his son's words, and he returned the grip, proud and yet saddened, for this was nonsense Elladan spoke no matter his loyal and true heart. "Ion, I know whose son he is. Legolas is not here to avenge his father's honour, but I am moved by your fealty." He transferred his hand to Elladan's arm and tugged him toward the house. "Come inside; you have had a nasty dream due to the influence of dwarven spirits. Have I not warned you about over-indulgence?"

"But Ada, I only wanted to protect you…He's a sneaky little snake, that Legolas, and we've a traitor here in our midst, someone who takes orders only from him and…"

"I know your intent was honourable," soothed Elrond. "Do not be troubled; Legolas is here because he became ill and needs rest. That's why he's been staying apart from everyone and so dependent upon Erestor. They are much alike. He isn't going to hurt anyone, ion, I promise you." He led his son back to his rooms and tucked him into bed amid mild protests and continued indictments against the woodland visitor.

"Please, Ada, don't be taken in by that angelic face and his alluring form, nor by his pretence to interest in your studies," Elladan implored one last time. "Whatever he's told you is just to cover up his real plans. I tell you I heard him order this servant to keep you under watch and report on your movements. Is that the talk of a sickly ellon in need of healing?"

Elrond sighed again and sat on the edge of the bed, gazing through the half-lit gloom into his son's worried grey eyes. He reached out and ran his hand gently over the mass of mussed hair, the touch filled with love.

"Listen to me, Elladan. I am much older and over the course of my long life, many have tried to fool me with false wiles and lying tongues. You must trust that I know the difference between a genuine heart and a deceitful one."

"Nay, Ada, not this one. He's not what he…" Elladan couldn't finish for his father's fingers closed over his lips.

"Enough. Your heart is true and I am honoured by your deep concern for me and for Erestor, but I am able to handle this on my own. If it will ease your heart, consider me duly warned. Now be at peace and try to rest until the effects of that potent brew wear off." Elrond rose and walked into the study where Elrohir had awakened and was peering at him in confused dread, having overheard some of their talk. "That goes for you as well, Elrohir. Rest and renew yourselves, for I understand you've arranged a grand Ball in honour of our guest. He will not be there, but as hosts you must."

He left them then, heading once more for the laboratory. Yet Elrond was no fool and would not discount the words he'd heard. Much as he disliked it, he decided he would have to put Thranduil's son to the test.

TBC
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An Honourable Assassin

Strike Three