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Greenleaf & Imladris 30 - Finale: Just Reward	By : MPB Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 4743 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Third Act: The Perils of Parenthood

Taur Galen, Narvinyë

Legolas moaned as the ache in his muscles made itself well known and deeply felt. Not all the battles he had ever fought nor all the mishaps he’d ever suffered had produced the discomfort he now endured.

It had been a madcap day and a half. He’d awakened to the onset of labor and the painful pressure of that inexorable descent into what would have been the birth canal in a female. But no such passage existed in his body and that had terrified him as no evil out of Mordor ever had. Just as alarmed, Elrohir had raced to the royal pavilion to fetch Elrond. The Artirion Lord and his wife had come to Taur Galen in the last two weeks of the archer’s term and kept a keen eye on him ever since. If the Powers did not intervene, Elrond had long decided he would have to resort to surgery to deliver the child.

But the Powers had intervened and Legolas had suffered the terror of labor and birth, a terror he had never felt in all his days as a warrior, in the presence of the Valier, Elbereth and Yavanna, and the Maia, Melian, who herself was Elrohir’s foremother. And their intervention had been necessary for a safe delivery. After all, the whole event was far beyond the bounds of what was conventional and therefore required unconventional assistance.

He had vague memories of a sharp pain, swift as a knife wound, blossoming in the vicinity of his lower abdomen under Elbereth’s crystalline eyes. Of Yavanna’s soothing palm on his fevered brow, easing his understandable fear. And Melian’s gentle hands reaching into his body, how he had no clear idea – he would have to question Elrohir later about it – then hearing in some amazement the first cry of life. He would never forget the look of awe and joy on Elrohir’s face in that moment. And then, the pain had given way to a steady ache as Elbereth had tenderly closed the newly created birth passage. Afterwards, he had slept soundly, sore and exhausted.

Now he lay, half reclined in bed, feeling uneasy about his singular role as both father and birth-giver. He had threatened anyone and everyone with eternal retribution should they take it into their heads to call him a mother. Someone – was it Erestor? – had suggested that he simply be called Odhron or male begetter.

That was not a bad idea, he mused. It would certainly help distinguish him from Elrohir who could bear the more traditional Adar.—Father. Although he supposed they would both be plain Ada, or Papa, when they were alone with their progeny. Both of them.

For the much-anticipated babe turned out to be one of a pair. The Peredhil legacy had struck again.

Both were strong and healthy ellyn, or male Elves; one with the silky raven locks of Elrohir and the sapphire gaze of Legolas, the other with the archer’s silver-gold tresses and the Elf-knight’s twilight eyes. They were as beautiful as one could hope for; in them their parents’ individual perfections blended flawlessly. Legolas had felt much of his initial misgivings fade away when he held his sons for the first time. He had realized with a stab of pleasure and happiness that for these children, everything had been worth it.

He watched as his mother and Celebrían cooed over the infants, their faces alight with pride and delight in their newest grandchildren. As for his father – Thranduil feigned nonchalance about the twins but could not keep himself from frequently peering at them. In this he competed with Elrond and Legolas could not help grinning at the sight of the two dignified Elves jockeying for the best position from which to view their shared grandsons.

“I am glad you are smiling again.”

Legolas glanced up at Elrohir. He had the grace to look a little guilty. He had not exactly been the best companion these past months, upset as he had been over his condition. Through it all, Elrohir had remained the soul of patience and understanding.

“I am sorry for venting my frustration on you,” he apologized.

“Nay, ‘twas to be expected,” Elrohir quietly said. “After all, I am to blame for having wished for something so outlandish.”

“You call our sons outlandish?” Legolas bristled somewhat.

Elrohir had to chuckle at the other’s renewed spirit. “Not them, Calenlass, but the means by which their coming to us was accomplished.”

Legolas could not argue with that. He glanced at the door as Elladan and Nimeithel walked in with their twins and Frodo. The hobbit’s eyes were twinkling. “You have some visitors who claim to be friends of a cousin of the spouse of one of the counsellors of King Ingwë,” he recited with an impish grin. “Shall I let them in?”

“Have pity, my dear Frodo!” Legolas groaned. “I cannot face yet another pack of curious Elves!”

Frodo chuckled and said, “I will tell them to return tomorrow then. Or next week perhaps?” he added at the Elf’s baleful glare. Getting a resigned nod, he snickered and departed on his mission.

Legolas sighed. Visitors had been streaming to Taur Galen since that morning. Every Elf with a claim to any kind of connection with his or Elrohir’s family had come trooping to take a look at the newborn babes and Legolas himself. Both Finarfin and Olwë, Lords of the Noldor and Teleri respectively, had shown up first thing after the birth and Ingwë, High King of the Elves of Eldamar, had soon followed.

He couldn’t blame them of course. What had happened was a miracle of unprecedented magnitude in the Undying Lands.

He looked up to see his father and Elrond approach.

“Have you decided on names?” Thranduil asked.

Legolas nodded, glanced at a beaming Elrohir, and said: “We wish to call them Eledhmîr and Mîranor.”

Elrond smiled gently in approval. “They are indeed treasures,” he said softly.

Just then, Ithilwen came forward with one of the babes. “’Tis good that you decided on their names. But for now Mîranor is in need of nourishment, Legolas,” she told him. “And while there are wet nurses aplenty and willing to be of service to you, I believe that what you have to offer is still best for him.”

Legolas stared at her, stupefied. “Offer him what?” he asked blankly.

“Why, milk of course.”

The bafflement increased. “But I don’t have—” He suddenly gasped in horror. “Do I?”

“Yes, dearest. Elrond examined you while you were asleep and has confirmed that you do.” Ithilwen slipped the infant into her son’s arms.

“Why?” he almost wailed causing Elendir and Elros to break into convulsions of mirth.

“Now, ion nín”—my son—“you can hardly think that the Powers would give you this miracle without providing for its sustenance,” the queen cooed. “You must accept this as a blessing and a gift from them.”

She was about to part his robe when he snapped his head up and noticed his father, Elrond, Elladan and the twins watching with ill-disguised curiosity. “You do not have to watch!” he growled.

Celebrían smiled in sympathy for the beleaguered prince. After laying a peacefully sleeping Eledhmîr beside Legolas, she slipped between her husband and Thranduil and linked arms with them. With a wink and a nod at a chortling Nimeithel, she said: “Come, let us give Legolas a little peace. Elladan, Elros, Elendir, that includes all three of you!” She insistently led them all out.

Bright red with embarrassment, Legolas glared at Elrohir who reluctantly turned away and sat down at the nearby writing desk. Only then did he allow his mother to part his robe and help him with the understandably alien task of nursing Mîranor. He yelped when the child clamped down hard causing Ithilwen to giggle and Elrohir to jump up in alarm. Mîranor ignored them all and began to suck hungrily.

Elrohir had turned away again when he saw all was well but after glimpsing Legolas with the golden-haired babe at his chest, he found he could not resist looking once more. He wordlessly watched, hoping the prince would not notice and demand he avert his eyes. He thought he had never seen a more wondrous sight.

Legolas eventually did sense his scrutiny and glanced up. Seeing Elrohir’s rapt gaze, he flushed again and nearly asked the other to look elsewhere but a tap on his arm by his mother distracted him.

Smiling, she rose and said: “I think you can manage by yourself for now. I must see to my other duties. Do not worry, I will come back as soon as possible. And besides you have Elrohir with you should you need anything.”

After she left the room, Elrohir hesitantly stood up and came to the bed. He quietly took a seat at its edge next to Legolas. “Are you all right?” he asked.

Legolas pouted. “Aside from feeling more embarrassed than I have ever been in three millennia, I suppose I am,” he muttered.

Elrohir smiled sympathetically. “He is greedy,” he said, eyeing their son speculatively.

“Aye.” Legolas blew out his breath. “By Elbereth, I will never again think that females have the easier lot.”

Elrohir chuckled. “I envy our sons,” he suddenly said.

“Why?” Legolas asked in surprise.

“Because they get to take suck from you.”

Legolas flushed. “Really, the things you think of!” he commented somewhat caustically. He regarded his mate questioningly. “You never told me you wanted children so badly as to make such a wish.”

“But I did not,” Elrohir replied. “Once I loved you I knew myself content with Elladan and Arwen’s children. I made that wish for your sake.”

Legolas was astonished. “My sake?”

“Aye. I knew that if there was one thing you regretted about binding to another ellon it was that you could not have children of your own. I saw how you came to regard Brethildor’s children and the twins,” Elrohir answered quietly. “Though had I known the Powers would grant it I would have offered to carry our babes in your stead. I never meant to cause you any suffering, Calenlass.”

Legolas stared mutely at him for a spell. Then his eyes softened. “I know you did not,” he said. “But, mind you, should the Valar choose to bless us once more, I will verily demand that you carry the next babe.”

“I will not protest,” Elrohir grinned. “I will only ask that he has your beauty again.“ His grin widened at Legolas’ charming blush.

“Or she,” the archer suddenly said.

Elrohir’s eyes widened. “She?”

“Aye, an elleth”—Elf-maid—Legolas said. His blue eyes danced wickedly at Elrohir’s slight look of consternation. “If the Valar are in the mood to grant our wishes, then that is what I would ask of them. That you get with a maid-child as feisty as yourself. I can just imagine you, defending her virtue against all comers. That should be a sight to behold!”

He laughed as Elrohir gulped then shook his head. Much appeased by the thought of his mate in such straits, he turned his attention back to Mîranor. The babe had slowed down in his suckling.

When his son’s feeding ceased, Elrohir inquired: “Is he asleep?”

“Almost.”

As Elrohir watched with amusement, Legolas lifted the infant to his shoulder with practiced ease and gently stroked its back. Within minutes, the babe let out air then settled happily against his parent’s neck.

“All your practice on me seems to have paid off,” the dark-haired Elf snickered earning a mild glare from the other.

Legolas turned and lay Mîranor down beside Eledhmîr. He gazed at the children, still amazed that the miracle had happened. Of a sudden, he felt his love for his sons rush through his very veins and he smiled. He heard Elrohir’s sharp intake of air and glanced up wonderingly. His Elf-knight was staring at him as if mesmerized.

“Elrohir?”

Elrohir let his breath out. “You are breathtaking,” he murmured. “No matter how many times I look at you it always feels like the first time I realized I wanted you.”

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss upon Legolas’s lips. Startled, Legolas reflexively flinched but Elrohir swiftly slipped his hand behind his neck and held him close. Legolas forgot all his distractions and worries as the familiar thrill coursed through his body.

The collective clearing of several throats alerted them to the presence of others and they broke apart quickly. Face flaming, Legolas could not quite look up but, unperturbed, Elrohir turned to see who the intruders were. He grinned in delight when he beheld Galadriel and Celeborn. His and Legolas’ fathers took up the rear along with Gandalf and Gimli.

After exchanging greetings with the Lord and Lady of Maltaurë, the Istar and their Dwarf friend, Legolas moved slightly to allow them to view the babes.

Celeborn laughed softly as he gazed at Eledhmîr. “I see this one has taken after you, gwanneth.”—younger twin. “Mayhap he will also be a plague to you as you have been to your long-suffering father.” Behind him, Elrond made a sound that was half snigger and half groan.

Elrohir opened his mouth to protest in indignation when Eledhmîr sleepily opened his eyes, roused by the sounds of their voices. The blue pools widened when he saw the golden couple before him. Galadriel smiled merrily. “But look at his eyes, hervenn nín.”—my husband. “Do you not recognize them? There is no mistaking that he is also the son of our prince of Taur Galen.”

A moment later, Mîranor lifted one sleepy eyelid long enough to reveal the argent hue of his eyes. Galadriel cooed indulgingly. “But this one is truly Legolas’ child,” she smiled. She glanced at Thranduil. “If not for the color of his eyes, I would say he is the very image of your son, Thranduil.”

Thranduil rolled his eyes and said, “So long as he remains only in his image!”

“I would say the same for my son,” Elrond added dryly.

Laughter greeted the two grandfathers’ distress.

Elrohir looked up at Gandalf. “Mithrandir? I do not understand why my wish was granted. ‘Tis very odd indeed.”

“A reward you might say,” Gandalf smiled, “for your part in the struggle against evil in Middle-earth and your willingness to fight and suffer for your love.”

Legolas stirred. “But why his wish?” he murmured. “Why did they favor us with its granting when there are others as deserving of a reward, mayhap even more?”

“Even I do not always know what the Valar intend,” Gandalf replied with a twinkle, “but I can say this much with confidence. They have a soft spot for the children of Luthien’s line. Witness your early release from the Halls of Awaiting, Elrohir. ‘Twas only your foremother who ever moved Námo to tears after all.”

The twinkle in his eyes brightened as he regarded Legolas once more. “But you are right, of course, that there are others equally deserving of their just reward. Indeed, I am pleased to tell you that I am lately come from the Ring of Doom where I bore witness to a most fascinating request laid before Manwë and Varda.”

“What request is this?” Galadriel said inquiringly.

“A request to be likewise blessed as Elrohir and Legolas.”

There was a concerted gasp in the room. Gandalf’s smile widened, proof that he was enjoying himself immensely.

“And who would be crazy enough to ask for that?” Gimli demanded incredulously.

“Glorfindel and Erestor.”

The gasps were now punctuated with exclamations of astonishment.

“Are you certain of this?” Celeborn queried in shock.

“Did I not say I just bore witness to their petition?” The wizard glanced at Legolas, beaming broadly. “Erestor has offered to carry the child.”

Legolas gaped at him a moment before finding his tongue. “He must be mad!” he cried. “He has no idea what it entails!”

“On the contrary, he does,” Gandalf chuckled. “Which is why he insisted on taking the role. He pointed out, quite logically I must say, that Glorfindel is ill-suited for such a task.”

Elrond eyed him suspiciously. “You speak as if ‘tis certain,” he said slowly, not quite able to bring himself to believe it.

The Istar’s grin was, Elrond would have sworn, quite smug. “Glorfindel protected your father, Eärendil, with valor and honor even unto death at the Fall of Gondolin,” he said, “and went on to valiantly serve your house in his second life. The Valar saw fit to reward him for a job well done as Bilbo might put it.” The corner of his eyes crinkled with delight as he announced: “Come this time next year, expect another Elfling to liven up your household, Master Elrond.”

This time deafening silence greeted his words. Everyone was simply too stunned to even think, let alone speak. It was Gimli who finally broke the quiet.

“Is it too late for me to return to Middle-earth?” he growled.

His exasperated riposte snapped the others out of their fugues and elicited a few smiles as well.

Thranduil shook his head dazedly and murmured, “Elbereth help us all.”

“She just did, Ada,” Legolas reminded his father.

“Again,” Elrohir added unnecessarily.

The woodland king’s glower effectively quelled any further comments.

Galadriel smiled and placed a comforting hand on Thranduil’s arm. “The Blessed Realm is as full of surprises as the Hinter Lands, aran Taur Galen”—king of Greenwood—she remarked humorously. “We shall not fade from tedium, Thranduil.”

“Nay, but we may well be the first Elves ever to expire from excess excitement,” Thranduil dryly responded.

After the laughter died down, Celeborn placed a hand on Elrohir’s shoulder and looked at Legolas. “Have either of you given thought to what this will mean to your binding?” At their puzzled reactions, he said, “Surely you realize that with the births of Eledhmîr and Mîránor, you are now bound in your sons as well as in blood.” Their stunned expressions gave him the answer and he chuckled, “No, I see you have not.” He exchanged amused looks with the others. A most wicked gleam appeared in his eyes as he addressed his younger grandson. “Expect to reach another peak in your joinings, gwanneth. And pray you and Legolas can survive it!”

Later, after all the visitors had left, and Eledhmîr fed as well, Elrohir tenderly lay his sons in their shared cradle then slipped into bed beside his mate. He remembered his grandsire’s words and settled down with a patently anticipatory grin. Legolas glanced at him suspiciously.

“What?”

“I was just thinking ‘tis a pity you are not yet fully recovered.”

Legolas snorted and shook his head. “You are hopeless.”

“Mayhap but I seem to be blessed with much foresight. What I predicted twice has come true.”

“And that was?”

“That you would be mine.”

Legolas smiled. “Aye, you did say that. And very smugly, too, both times.”

“Is that a complaint?”

“Nay, I am too happy right now to complain about anything.”

“Then you no longer hold my wish against me?”

Legolas sighed. “I should never have treated you that way,” he said. “Tell me, Aduial, how can I make it up to you?”

“I am not an unreasonable Elf, Calenlass nín”—my Greenleaf—Elrohir smiled, leaning over to kiss his golden-haired spouse. Legolas barely stifled a moan of pleasure as Elrohir deepened the caress. And he did not mind it when the other’s hands parted his robe. Full intimacy was not possible for now but the closeness of touching was most welcome.

He started though when Elrohir suddenly caressed him in a most unexpected place. He pulled away and saw the other was grinning wickedly. His eyes widened.

“However, I am a hungry one.”

Legolas yelped as the Elf-knight suddenly swooped down and took one milk-filled bud into his mouth.

“Elrohir!”

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

Glossary:

Narvinyë - Quenya for January

ellon - male Elf

Aduial - Twilight (Legolas’ pet name for Elrohir)

To be continued…
- 4
- 5
- 6
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Greenleaf & Imladris 30 - Finale: Just Reward