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Twilight Tales - An Ounce of Kindness	By : MPB Category: -Multi-Age > General Views: 26418 -:- 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 XLII

Imladris, Ringarë T.A. 3018

The Hobbits seldom parted from each other in all the time they spent in The Last Homely House east of the Sea. The events that had brought them to the Elf-haven were traumatic and disruptive of their heretofore quiet, rather complacent lives and had instilled in them the need to band together for safety's sake. Even in the security of hallowed Imladris, they did not feel completely confident, remembering that not too far away lay the Bruinen where the chase after Frodo Baggins and the perilous bauble he bore had culminated in a roar of rushing, foaming water sweeping away his loathsome pursuers as they sullied the ford in their attempt to ensnare their flagging prey.

Legolas pondered their predicament, amazed to this day by the pluck exhibited by these miniscule beings who looked like mere children yet ate and drank like full-grown Dwarves. And now two of their number had displayed the hidden steel in their backbones, agreeing to undertake what no warrior Elf or mortal had done in recent memory. To march into the very heart of Mordor and undo the Enemy from within.

Who could have imagined that the fate of the Free Folk of Middle-earth would rest in such small hands? How young Baggins and his faithful servant and friend Samwise Gamgee could possibly accomplish such an impossible feat was a conundrum the archer could not even begin to unravel. But Mithrandir had placed his faith in them and so had Elrond. If these two sage and stalwart foes of Sauron deemed the Hobbits' goal achievable, who was a considerably less learned Wood-elf to question them?

At least they would have Mithrandir to guide them for the Wizard had promised them his aid. As had Aragorn which was only to be expected. This was what the Ranger had been preparing for since his foster-father revealed his heritage and true identity to him three score and seven years ago. Indeed, it was most fitting that 'twas he who had guided the Hobbits to the safety of Imladris after fortuitous happenstance placed them in his path and under his protection. Here was the chance for the Dúnadan to bring to an end the evil his forefather's folly had wrought.

The One Ring. Isildur's bane. Just the thought that Frodo's uncle Bilbo Baggins had borne that thing during the Battle of the Five Armies all those years back sent shivers of dread crawling up the archer's spine. What might have happened had any of them discovered its presence at the time? Legolas wondered if Mithrandir had suspected even then. Of a sudden, the Istar's insistence that the Hobbits' land of the Shire be guarded made chilling sense.

Now things had come to a head. Frodo had fled the Shire at Mithrandir's behest when it became apparent that the Enemy's minions were closing in on him and the thing he'd long had in his keeping. Mithrandir's intervention had not been mere chance. The Wizard had sensed that great evil was afoot and taken steps to keep disaster from befalling his Halfling friends. Had he not unveiled the significance of the plain gold band Bilbo had by sheerest chance picked up in the deeps of the Misty Mountains during his journeying with Thorin Oakenshield's band, Middle-earth's doom would have been sealed by now.

His thoughts flew to the barren wastes of Mordor and the bubbling cauldron that was Orodruin's molten core. He had never seen that accursed land and the restive volcano that had been the setting of the Ring's forging. But his father had seen Sauron's realm with his own eyes and so had his brother-by-law Gilthalion. And in Rivendell, there were Elrond, Glorfindel, Erestor and Gildor to tell that tale. It made for grim listening and Legolas believed that, for all his courage and experience in war, he could never bring himself to set foot in so foul a land.

Yet now he found himself wrestling with a growing urge to offer his service to young Frodo. Just as Elrond's sons had desired and would have done had their father not opposed their intention forthwith. Elrond had laid his pride at their feet and pleaded with them, as only a devoted father could, not to pledge themselves to this most perilous of quests. He had endured watching them leave Imladris for errantry over the centuries, never knowing if and when he would see them again, fearing each time they departed that they would be returned to him shrouded in their cloaks and naught more for him to do than to pray over their graves. And always, always he harbored the guilt that it was his initial plan to ride as they did that had set them on so dangerous a path these many years past.

This once he had asked his sons to desist. Unexpectedly, Mithrandir had agreed with him, declaring that the brethren had already done more than their fair share in the struggle to overthrow the Enemy. It was for others to tread the road to redemption. The twins had acceded to their father's wishes and set aside what they regarded as their duty. If they suspected the Wizard of throwing his support behind Elrond in an effort to spare his good friend more loss and sorrow they did not say.

But none foresaw the compulsion that would haunt the Elf-knight's woodland spouse. It was a strange compulsion - one that felt so much a natural part of him that he had begun to believe that this was the fate for which he had been born. The reason his sire had guarded him so well even unto securing his unorthodox betrothal to Elrond's valiant younger son though Legolas had only been a child barely out of swaddling clothes.

This urge grew by the day, as if stoked from within by some unseen hand. And the decision of one Boromir, Captain of Minas Tirith, to join the growing Company of the Ring had further strengthened that urge to speak up, to do as his conscience dictated, to take up bow and knife in defense of the Ring-bearer and his quixotic quest. If the son of the Steward of Gondor dared pledge himself to a cause he did not wholly agree with…

The archer inwardly shook his head and moved away from the vicinity of the Hobbits. Leaving the Hall of Fire, he returned to the solitude of his conjugal quarters. Elrohir would not countenance it particularly now when he had sworn to abstain from pledging his own service. Legolas could just imagine what the Elf-knight would say. Ai, conflict would surely come of it. Conflict he was ill prepared to stomach after yet another lengthy separation from his beloved spouse.

He had arrived the very morn of the unbidden meeting that would come to be known as the Council of Elrond in later days. He had travelled to the valley realm to deliver news of the escape of Gollum from the Wood-elves' custody. Aragorn and Mithrandir had entrusted the wretched creature to the Mirkwood Elves but even they could not have predicted that Gollum would merit a concerted effort by their foes to set him loose. That the one-time Hobbit had borne the Ring before Bilbo Baggins came by it had come as a shock to all during the meeting. Aragorn had not been able to keep from expressing disappointment that Gollum had managed to elude the Wood-elves. It had fallen to Legolas to defend his people's honor, making him wish at the time that he had not been so keen to deliver his father's message after all.

Not that it was unusual for him to act as his father's messenger. A sojourn in Imladris however fleeting was always an eagerly sought opportunity to be with his spouse. Had circumstances permitted, Galvreth would also have joined him that he might be reunited with Elladan for a spell.

But instead of a brief report to Elrond and a lengthy reunion with Elrohir he had perforce sat through a most astonishing gathering of Elves, Men and Dwarves plus one Wizard and three Hobbits (Sam Gamgee had attended the meeting unmarked which accounted for his later insistence on joining his master on his unexpected quest). Afterward, he had impatiently bided his time while Elrond made his plea to his sons only to be forced to see Elrohir off after a frustratingly short reunion. Eager to pave the way for Frodo and his companions if they could not count themselves among said companions, the brethren had ridden east to a land that was virtually a remote legend to the archer, so sparsely had his father ever spoken of mysterious Lothlórien.

Now Legolas awaited the younger twin's return with all the yearning of an Elf too long parted from his heart's mate. And while he did, that other yearning gnawed at him with insidious persistence. He did not know how much longer he could resist it.

*********

Elrond's sons were the last to return of all the riders sent out to scout the lands about, arriving back in Imladris on the 18th day of December. They closeted themselves with their father in his study, speaking with him alone of the results of their errand. Even their sister Arwen and Legolas though wed to the younger twin were not privy to the brethren's report. When they were done however Elrond immediately sent for the woodland prince. Legolas hearkened to the summons with reluctance.

His first act was to hasten into Elrohir's arms and see for himself that his mate was hale and whole. His second act was to look at his law-father with some trepidation. Legolas could guess the reason for Elrond's summons. A part of him wished the Elf-lord had delayed the moment. But the more prudent part knew that time was too short for any delays. Best to get the issue out of the way.

Elrohir noticed his tense demeanor at once. Frowning, he searched his face for signs of anxiety. Finding them, he glanced suspiciously at his sire whose expression was hardly reassuring. He regarded Legolas once more.

“What afflicts you, melethen?”-my love-he asked. “Hardly have I returned and already you look fit to bolt.”

Legolas shook his head. “I do not seek to flee your company,” he demurred. A resigned exhalation followed. “Only your reproof.”

“Reproof? For what?” Elrohir pressed. “Speak plainly, Legolas. I am tired and sore from too many days riding and not enough rest to coax the reason out of you.”

Elrond came to the archer's rescue. “Legolas knows you all too well, Elrohir,” he said. “'Tis only his desire to keep the peace between you that causes him to hesitate.” He exchanged a look with the prince before proceeding, his mildly reproachful, Legolas' curiously beseeching. “It should please you both to learn that Boromir of Gondor has pledged his sword to the quest,” he carefully began. “And surprisingly, so has Gimli son of Glóin though his father had much to say afore he gave him his blessing.”

The twins stared at him, their quick wits supplying what their father had not yet uttered.

“Man and Dwarf have sworn themselves to this cause?” Elrohir said sharply. “What of Elf?” He felt Legolas' hand involuntarily flex on his waist. He swung around to stare at his mate. “You offered yourself?” he demanded, eyes wide with shock.

“I had to,” Legolas staunchly replied.

“Had to?”

“I could feel it in my very bones. This was the reason for my birth. My preordained purpose.” He tried to draw Elrohir into an embrace and winced when the Elf-knight stepped back, his ire flaring.

“You did this?” Elrohir snapped. “Without seeking my counsel or even so much as a by your leave? Surely I deserved that much from my own bereth!”-spouse.

“Elrohir-” Elrond attempted to intervene.

“Nay, Father, this is between Legolas and me,” Elrohir growled. “I will not quarrel with you for consenting to this. You have borne too many choices, both good and ill, for me to assail you now. But my dear mate's decision is another matter entirely.” He glared at Legolas.

The prince wondered how to pacify his furious spouse. Elladan would be no help. His stormy mien was patent indication that he was in full accord with his brother's opinion of the matter. And Elrohir had effectively blocked any further attempts on Elrond's part to intercede for him. Struggling to explain his seemingly precipitate actions without further incensing his seething mate, he caught hold of Elrohir's hand and refused to release it when the younger twin would have pulled away.

“As your father put it, I know you so well,” he ventured. “You would do everything in your power to keep me safe even if to do so were to impede what needs to be done.”

“So you preempted him,” Elladan cut in, sarcasm limning his voice, his empathy for his distraught twin overtaking his usual courtesy. “So considerate of you, Thranduilion, to welcome him home with such news.”

“Elladan!” Elrond exclaimed. “That is unseemly of you.”

“He only voices my own sentiments,” Elrohir scowlingly interjected. He jerked his gaze back to his blanched countenanced spouse. “Considerate indeed. I recall how stridently you insisted that you would accompany us when we rode with the Dúnedain. How eloquently you pleaded for our togetherness in peril and never to part from each other unless absolutely necessary. Yet now when I am constrained by oaths pressed upon me, you go and swear yourself to this cause without my knowledge or leave. And I am helpless to gainsay your decision or do aught to lessen my distress at watching you set forth into all but certain doom. You spew pretty words when they serve your purpose but deny me the chance to plead likewise if it does not suit you!”

He yanked his hand out of Legolas' grasp and, before anyone could speak or move, stalked out of the room and slammed the door shut behind him so savagely that the sconces on either side rattled violently and the candles they housed threatened to topple from their perches. In his wake, shocked silence reigned even unto his own twin.

“Elbereth, I have never seen him so irate,” Elladan declared in a somewhat awed voice. He glanced at Legolas and marked the utter whiteness of the Wood-elf's countenance. Whatever anger he held promptly faded in the face of his law-brother's mounting fear and misery and he placed a comforting hand on Legolas' shoulder. “I understand your caution in forestalling whatever action you thought Elrohir might take to stop you. But - ai, Legolas, you all but implied that you did not trust him to choose wisely.”

A frustrated sigh from behind accompanied Legolas' stricken moan. The two turned to look at Elrond who had managed to regain his composure after witnessing his younger son's livid tirade and explosive exit.

“'Tis why I pleaded with you to await his return ere making your pledge, Legolas,” the Peredhel lord said.

“Yet you accepted it,” Elladan countered. “Why did you, Ada?”-Papa.

“I left him no choice,” Legolas regretfully replied. “Not if he wished all Elvendom to be shamed before Men and Dwarves alike.”

“Not to mention Hobbits,” Elrond dryly added. He made a gesture of exasperation toward his errant son-by-marriage. “How could I refuse a pledge made in the Hall of Fire before those who were already sworn to the quest and Glóin's people besides? What could I say that would not render our kindred craven in their eyes? Or impinge on the collective pride of Thranduil's folk?”

Elladan stared at him in dismay then turned his gaze on Legolas. “Well done, gwanur”-brother-he groaned. “You truly ensured that naught could be done to stay you from this course. But now you have an enraged spouse to appease. You realize I trust that Elrohir feels betrayed.”

“I do,” Legolas answered morosely. “And I heartily regret my rashness in this.” He looked repentantly at Elrond. “Forgive me, sire, I should have listened to you.”

Elrond, seeing the younger Elf's abject remorse, softened and said, “You know you have my pardon, Legolas. But 'tis Elrohir's that you need to seek soonest.”

Legolas mumbled his compliance and left the study in haste. Watching him go, Elladan kneaded the sides of his forehead with his fingertips as if to force out the sudden ache that had taken residence within.

“Already it works its mischief,” he muttered darkly.

“It does,” Elrond concurred. “And in ways we cannot always foresee. Shepherd them through this if you can, gwaniuar”-older twin-he said. “Soothe your brother's anger. They must not part with this between them.”

“I will do my utmost,” Elladan replied. “But Elrohir can be as stubborn as a Dwarf with a grudge when his umbrage is roused.”

“And protective as a Warg-bitch with newborn cubs to suckle,” Elrond wryly added. “Let us pray that reason overcomes his ire ere too long.

**********

Legolas was not surprised when Elrohir did not join him in their apartments that night. He had not been present at the evening meal either. Indeed, he saw neither hide nor hair of his mate all day. The Elf-knight had resolutely kept his distance and while Legolas could not blame him for his avoidance he did rue his spouse's skill in thorough concealment. For though he had expected to be shunned for the moment, Legolas could not help the welling loneliness and sorrow that haunted him and infused his dreams. Renewed fear joined his tumultuous emotions when he awakened the following day to the empty space beside him. There was no sign whatsoever that Elrohir had returned to their chamber even for a change of clothing.

He had no stomach for a full meal or any company that morning and only nibbled half-heartedly on a biscuit while he sat by himself on the sill of one of the arched windows in the dining hall. He let his eyes roam around the hall, settling on one group of diners or another, all the while hoping that Elrohir would come to breakfast and chance meeting him.

The Hobbits were industriously plowing through a bounteous morning feast of hot from the oven bread with sharp cheese, freshly churned butter and various preserves, a goodly selection of cold meats, steaming porridge generously doused with cream and honey, toothsome sweet rolls and a bowl of assorted nuts and fruits. Legolas felt his belly turn over in protest at such a gargantuan repast. Even the Dwarves were not so voracious of appetite he thought.

The Naugrim kept to themselves at another table. They had done so for the duration of their sojourn in the valley. Only to Elrond and Mithrandir did they extend more than perfunctory warmth. Memories of enmity and affronts died hard and distrust of other races still festered in many a Dwarf's heart. Legolas wondered how the Fellowship would fare if such differences continued to remain amongst its members. He surreptitiously regarded Gimli.

How experienced at stealth and war was Glóin's son? Had he fought at the Battle of Five Armies as his father had done? Legolas could not recall seeing him amongst the Dwarves' ranks. But then all Dwarves looked alike to him save if some distinguishing feature set one apart from his fellows. Just then, Gimli raised his head and looked about. His eyes met the archer's across the wide space. For a moment, the young Dwarf gazed at him appraisingly and Legolas realized he was summing him up in the same manner Legolas had done earlier. And then Gimli dropped his gaze and turned his attention back to his meal. But Legolas did not doubt that he had already made up his mind about the Elf who would represent his kindred in the Company.

A hand landed on his shoulder and he looked up into Aragorn's inquiring face. The Ranger studied him briefly then settled down by his side on the sill.

“Elrohir did not take your pledge to join our Fellowship well, did he?” he assayed.

Legolas did not ask how he knew. Aragorn had proved himself a very astute Man, more elven in his perspicacity than any of his line since Elendil's time it seemed. The Elf-prince merely shrugged forlornly in response. Aragorn pursed his lips sympathetically.

“Had he not promised Father to inhibit himself from this quest, I wager he would not be so upset that you offered your service,” he softly commented.

“I suppose not,” Legolas replied ruefully. “He would not feel so helpless to protect me.”

“Which you knew if I am not mistaken,” Aragorn said. “But mule-headed Wood-elf that you are, you did not let that stop you,” he added in an attempt at levity. He winced however when Legolas hunched down even more miserably. “I am sorry,” he apologized. “I should not add to your woes or chasten you when verily I am glad that we shall have your bowman's skill at our disposal. We will need every bit of strength we can muster be it of body, heart or mind.”

Legolas smiled faintly. “Eru willing, your faith in me will not be vain,” he said.

Before Aragorn could reply, the archer glanced at the hall entrance, preternaturally aware of an imminent arrival. He quickly straightened up even before the brethren Elladan and Elrohir entered the hall, Arwen between them. Sensing his mate's presence as well, Elrohir glanced about until his gaze fell on Legolas. His eyes narrowed slightly when he espied Aragorn by the prince's side but his expression did not change otherwise.

Aragorn took leave of the archer and hastened to Arwen. He led her to a table close to the Hobbits who were now well into what seemed to be their second breakfast. Or was it an early first lunch?

Legolas on the other hand remained where he was until a slight gesture from Elladan assured him that he would be welcome at the twins' table. Joining them, he dared to seat himself beside Elrohir, clasping the Elf-knight's shoulder in greeting. A curt nod in response heartened him and he managed a soft “Good morn” to Elladan.

The conversation was desultory at best, Elrohir clearly not in the mood for banter. It was a most uncomfortable situation by any standard and Legolas knew his presence made it so. Yet he was happy just to be near his mate, fraught atmosphere notwithstanding. Under cover of the table, midway through the meal, he laid his hand on Elrohir's thigh. When the Elf-knight did not flinch from his touch, he felt a wave of elation wash over him. By meal's end, the mood seemed to lighten and Legolas' despondency with it. Though Elrohir did not speak directly to him, he did listen to his and Elladan's conversation.

At length, Aragorn and Arwen rose and made their way out of the hall. The couple was joined by Mithrandir and a while after by Glorfindel and Erestor. Elladan noted how his brother followed their progress and placed a cautionary hand on Elrohir's arm. Elrohir barely nodded in reply. Legolas watched them curiously, feeling the undercurrents that drenched their silent communication.

Abruptly, Elrohir turned to him and said, “Were I to beg, would you change your mind?”

Lergolas stared at him, startled into momentary speechlessness. “Beg?” he repeated when he found his tongue. Across the table, Elladan lowered his eyes.

“Were I to plead with you, would you reconsider your course?” Elrohir rephrased his query, his voice as soft and smooth as new-drawn milk.

Legolas glanced at Elladan but the older twin kept his eyes lowered.

“Legolas?”

The archer sighed. Tightening his grip on Elrohir's thigh, he faced his mate and said: “I would be forsworn were I to withdraw my pledge. Surely you would not ask that of me, Elrohir.”

Elrohir's mouth curled in displeasure. “I just did. But it seems I have no sway with my own mate. Contrary to what I'd once believed.” He suddenly stood up, moving away so fluidly it did not appear that he had pulled himself out of Legolas' grasp.

“Elrohir, please…” the archer desperately murmured, unwilling to let others know of the rift between them.

But Elrohir was already walking away. Legolas started to rise but Elladan's strong grip on his wrist stayed him.

“Let him be,” he counselled. “I had hoped that sleep and a night apart from you would calm him but it is apparent he still harbors much resentment over your choice.”

Legolas swallowed painfully. He looked at his right hand where the gold band on his forefinger gleamed quietly. He felt tears gather beneath his lids and he blinked hard to keep them at bay.

“When?” he whispered.

“Let me talk to him again,” Elladan said.

“He was with you last night?”

“Aye, he came to me.” Marking the relief on the archer's features, Elladan began to scowl. “Do not tell me you think he strayed because of your disagreement!”

Legolas shook his head. “I know Elrohir would never betray our vows. He is too much an Elf for that whatever his mortal blood might urge on him. I only feared that he had been alone when he needed solace most.”

“And you did not?”

“I brought this upon myself. I deserve it.”

“No one deserves punishment for a deed done out of duty and in all honor,” Elladan firmly stated. “Elrohir is not laying penance on you, Legolas. I hope you realize that.”

“I know it.” Legolas sighed. “He is only so disappointed with my conduct.”

“More than that. He is afraid for you.”

Legolas frowned. “But I am fully capable of taking care of myself, Elladan. I can defend myself against any peril that should befall me.”

“That you know of,” Elladan said. At Legolas' surprised stare, he pointed out, “You have no idea what you might face in this journey. And in company with the Ring-bearer, the temptation to succumb to evil will be all that much greater.”

“Surely neither of you believe that I would yield to temptation,” Legolas protested.

“Evil has many faces,” Elladan retorted. “Sometimes, it can be as fair to our eyes as we wish it to be. Celebrimbor was seduced by the beauty with which Annatar cloaked himself and was thus led to his doom. Do not underestimate the Enemy, gwanur, or discount the means by which he endeavors to pervert even the purest of intentions.”

The Elf-warrior stood. “I will see what I can do to temper Elrohir's anger.” His eyes glinted. “And you had best ready yourself for ungentle handling when he brings himself to pardon your deplorable haste.”

He left Legolas to deal with the sudden blush that stained his cheeks as best as he could.

Heeding Elladan's advice, Legolas did not attempt to gain Elrohir's company soonest. Instead he watched him from afar, shadowing him on occasion but never so closely as to intrude on him, and praying that Elladan would succeed in appeasing him enough to get him to extend a conciliatory hand to his anxious mate.

He hovered in the background all day, keeping hopeful eyes on Elrohir. A silent presence but an intense one nonetheless. Even Arwen marked his demeanor and was moved to plead with her brother on his behalf once she was apprised of the cause for their estrangement. Elrond as well added his voice to hers, gently advising his younger son not to let anger get the better of his love. But neither knew as Elladan did what lay at the heart of Elrohir's bitterness. Only the older twin could address his brother's true fear and even so he had to tread warily lest Elrohir retreat even further into reticence.

That evening, he lured his twin to the garden porch where once a long time ago a pair of nigh ill-starred lovers met to try and rebuild relations from the ruins of a shattered betrothal. Rebuild they had and together nurtured one of the most enduring and passionate bindings known to Elfkind. Warrior and strategist to the core, Elladan hoped to recall to his brother how the simple choice to forgive had reopened the doors to love and an abiding happiness not many could claim theirs.

As they sipped mulled wine, they spoke of the impending threat to Middle-earth, Elladan dexterously weaving into the conversation the enigma of predestination and how many times in their history the Peredhil had been subject to it.

“Can you imagine it?” he said. “If Estel wins himself a crown, our sister will be Queen of Elves and Men. I have oft wondered what might have happened had we not ridden on to Mirkwood but instead entered Lórien with him. Might we have altered the course of destiny simply by being present?”

“'Tis very likely,” Elrohir opined. “At the very least, Arwen might have delayed her choice and even that could change everything as we know it now. Estel might have sought his wife amongst the Dúnedain for instance.”

“Or sought no wife at all and fallen into despair long afore this,” Elladan conjectured. “Our blood runs true in him. And it has ever been our way to choose once or never choose at all if denied our desire.”

About to speak, Elrohir suddenly turned his head sharply and glanced at the porch entrance. Following his lead, Elladan caught a glimpse of pale gold hair and the white of a shirtsleeve ere the would-be trespasser stepped back out of sight.

“He has been following you about,” Elladan remarked.

Elrohir said nothing but kept his eyes on the doorway. Wary eyes, Elladan noted. But also mournful. It smote the older twin's heart to see his brother so uncertain in his fear and hurt.

“Had you known then how impetuous and stubborn he could be, would you have declined binding to him?” he softly asked.

Elrohir looked at him as if he were lacking in wits. “Of course not!” he said. “I took him as he was and still is, with all his flaws and all his virtues. He has never given me cause for regret.”

“Even now?”

The Elf-knight faltered then. At length, he looked sadly at his brother. “Nay, that is not possible. But… I am so afraid, Elladan. What if in the course of his journeying so far from me, he-” Elrohir broke off and stared quite forlornly into the dark of the frost-covered gardens.

Elladan wrapped a soothing arm around him. “You saw nothing beyond mere suggestion,” he pointed out. “Your foresight is keen. Trust it.”

“But 'tis no surety that naught more will happen,” Elrohir replied. “That could have been blocked from my sight to ensure that I would not hinder his going. The Valar are not sentimental fools to allow one Elf's fears to mar the grand design of destiny.” He bowed his head and shuddered. “Verily this frightens me more than the prospect of the hordes of Mordor descending on Imladris itself. This strikes to my very core, Elladan. To my soul.”

“You have never doubted him or your bond before,” Elladan reminded him urgently. “'Tis that thing, Elrohir. It poisons your confidence. Do you not feel it?”

Elrohir sighed. “I feel it. And I have let this weakness of mine become fertile ground for its influence, simpleton that I am.”

“Nay, only an Elf who loves his mate deeply,” Elladan tenderly chided. He stroked his brother's nape comfortingly as he had when they were just Elflings cowering from some imagined fright or after having been scolded for a very real scrape. “You are strong of heart and will, Elrohir. Do not let it use you for his purpose.” He paused as the Elf-knight clenched his hands on his lap to still their trembling. “In any case, I do not think you wish to send him away unpardoned and burdened with your anger, brother,” he murmured. “A wounded spirit is vulnerable and easily waylaid.”

Elrohir stared at him, eyes widening in recognition of a truth. With a gentle nudge, Elladan persuaded him to rise to his feet.

“Go to him,” he urged the younger twin.

Elrohir gamely smiled and bent to kiss his brow. “Thank you, tôr iuar”-older brother-he whispered before heading for the door.

The Elf-knight stepped into the house then paused. Legolas sat on the short bench along the wall a short distance from the door, head and shoulders bowed and hands clasped on his lap. He did not look up as Elrohir approached him, his gloom apparently clouding his ability to sense his mate's nearness. He started when Elrohir laid a hand on his shoulder then raised red-rimmed eyes to gaze at him earnestly. Elrohir pulled him to his feet and into his embrace. The swift tight wrap of withy arms around him told of the archer's threadbare hold on his turbulent emotions. He drew out of Legolas' arms but reassuringly took his hand instead.

“Come,” he simply said and led his woodland spouse to their quarters.

Once within, he quietly began to shed his clothes. Legolas watched him cautiously, still uncertain of absolution.

“I am truly sorry I cannot grant your request,” he finally blurted out, his voice hoarse with repentance and longing.

“As am I,” Elrohir softly answered as he undid his shirt.

Misconstruing his words for further censure, Legolas hurried to him and slid his arms snugly around him from behind. “Please, beloved. I did not come to this decision lightly,” he pleaded. “As you were compelled to take up arms against your naneth's tormentors, so must I fulfill my destiny. I was born for a purpose and I know this is the purpose my mother dreamt of.” He buried his face in Elrohir's neck. “I would not be the Elf you came to love if I now failed to honor what was long ago ordained for me,” he said in a hushed voice.

He raised his head as Elrohir turned around in his arms. Gasped as he was caught in a hard, almost brutal kiss while Elrohir backed him toward the bed. His legs catching on the edge of the bed, he fell on the mattress in a sprawl, Elrohir following him down swiftly. Before he could speak a word, his lips were summarily captured once again and he was treated to another plundering caress.

He heard the sound of rending cloth as Elrohir tugged his shirt open with little regard for its fasteners. He felt the loosening of ties on his night trousers then whimpered against Elrohir's mouth when the Elf-knight's hand slid inside to grip him. When Elrohir released his lips, he had little time to think before his mate set to leaving a trail of crimson bruises from his throat down to his chest, his hand all the while busy fondling him into a deliciously tormented state. He cried out at a sharp nip to a nipple, the sensation halfway between pain and pleasure. He looked down at Elrohir somewhat fearfully.

Silvery eyes regarded him ominously. A rosy tongue slipped out to soothe sting from bite, each idle stroke causing the bud of flesh to tauten. Mesmerized by argent stare and sensual onslaught, Legolas was not prepared for the sudden breaching of his lower body. He groaned as more fingers than he was accustomed to on first entry pressed into him. A muffled plea for mercy escaped him as he was assiduously delved.

Elrohir rose above him, his free hand cupping him by the chin. “Indulge me, melethron”-lover-he said in a low, perilous voice.

Legolas caught his breath. Remembering Elladan's warning to him that morning, he fought to settle his nerves. Recalling all the times they had used each other thusly to calm or vent some strident emotion that mere words could not, he relaxed and gave himself over to his mate's need. A kiss of utter tenderness belied the signs of an impending assault and he counted his ravishment well worth it if it presaged his Elf-knight's full forgiveness and fulsome loving.

**********

They spent nearly every moment of that last week together, begrudging anything and everything that parted them even for the briefest of whiles. It was a time for storing up memories. The archer would be embarking on a journey far more dangerous than any they had undertaken before in all their years of errantry.

Yet though they hardly separated and coupled rabidly as oft as time and opportunity permitted, Legolas sensed a gap where one had never existed. It was a small one, a maddeningly ephemeral one that vanished when their bodies came together only to reappear in the wake of even the most ardent of joinings. By the dawning of the day of the Company's departure, Legolas realized the cause for it emanated from his mate. And as surely as the sun rose each day, he was certain Elrohir did not do so to offend him. That it was his lover's way of self-preservation though from what he sought to protect himself Legolas could only guess.

As he lay in their bed, fighting for breath after their latest tumble, he felt it again. That odd distancing of his mate's spirit that did not so much hurt as bewilder him. Even before he had regained complete calm, he turned into Elrohir's embrace and studied his countenance. He glimpsed the barest traces of incertitude in Elrohir's eyes before the twin could school his expression.

Worried, wondering, Legolas said, “You seem more fearful for me than I am for myself. Please, beloved, do not let this overset you so. It pains me to feel a rift between us, more so when we are to be parted for Elbereth knows how long.”

Elrohir gazed at him with regret. “I am sorry, lass vuil”-dear leaf-he responded. “I did not mean to spoil our time together. 'Tis just that…” He searched for the proper words, prudence warring with the impulse to reveal all even at victory's expense. “I have had forebodings about this,” he finally admitted. “Nothing as clear as I wish. But they gnaw at me nevertheless and leave me with little peace of heart or mind.”

“Why did you not tell me?”

“I did not wish to weigh you down with my fears. You will need all your resolve to prevail.”

“Hence your distance at times,” Legolas said with just a hint of acerbity that faded quickly enough. “Still you seek to protect me even from yourself.” He laid his head in the crook of Elrohir's neck. “I will prevail,” he stoutly declared. “Come what may, I will return to you.”

“But not unchanged,” Elrohir could not help saying.

Legolas lifted his head and looked at him in surprise. “For certes, I cannot remain unchanged by such an endeavor,” he assented. “But not my heart's desire. I am yours, Elrohir, all that I am and have. As I swore before the Valar and Eru Almighty on our binding day.”

Elrohir's eyes moistened. “Legolas, whatever happens, listen to the song in your heart,” he quietly said.

The archer gazed at him in some puzzlement. But after a moment, he smiled with such sweetness that it quite took the Elf-knight's breath away.

“I always do,” Legolas murmured, cupping Elrohir's face in his palms. “'Tis why I am so happily bound to you, rochiren vell.”-my dear knight. He pressed their lips together, luring Elrohir into a deeper kiss that bespoke his love for him and his regret over instigating this latest separation.

Their last parting was necessarily private. As dusk fell on the valley, while the Company and various members of Elrond's household gathered in the courtyard, Elven prince and Elf-knight retreated to a shadowed recess in the gallery for their farewells. In the presence of others who might not comprehend the ways of the Firstborn and perhaps even condemn them, it was advisable to be discreet and not show more than due affection to each other. Legolas would be travelling with just such folk. Best that he did not invite fractious relations wrought by unease and misunderstandings.

As chance would have it, when he joined the others, he came to stand at Aragorn's side. The Ranger welcomed him with a warm smile. Elrohir stiffened at the sight. He felt a frisson of apprehension spark inside him. He had yet to get used to it. He did not think he ever would.

Elladan sensed the tremor that rippled through his brother's body. He moved swiftly to bolster him with a succoring arm around his shoulder and a whispered, “He loves you, muindor.”-brother.

Elrohir smiled wanly and murmured, “I know.”

Elladan smiled back encouragingly. Together, they watched the Nine Walkers slowly file out of the courtyard, passing through the arched gate one by one. The last to leave, Legolas paused and looked back, seeking Elrohir one final time. The Elf-knight placed his right hand over his heart then raised it in farewell. Legolas, eyes gleaming gratefully, returned the gesture then turned and followed his companions into the shadows beyond.

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

Glossary:

Ringarë - Quenya for December

pen neth - young one

Thranduilion - son of Thranduil

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

naneth - mother

To be continued…
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Twilight Tales - An Ounce of Kindness