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Twilight Tales - An Ounce of Kindness	By : MPB Category: -Multi-Age > General Views: 26417 -:- 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 IV

Elrond and Celebrían smiled indulgently as they listened to the hushed conversation behind them interspersed with soft, high-pitched giggles that belonged to none of the stately Imladrin Elves.

A backward glance revealed the source of the unlikely mirth as the fair-haired Elfling securely ensconced within the circle of their younger son's arm. Young Legolas had scarcely paused to take in air between the numerous questions he had posed to Elrohir and Elladan since the Rivendell delegation left the bounds of the Woodland Realm.

That was not surprising considering that the little prince had never left the grounds of his father's halls, much less stepped outside the kingdom's borders. Small wonder that he greeted every new sight and sound and even scent with wide-eyed fascination and accompanied his curiosity with a seemingly never-ending spate of queries. Every bit of flora or fauna that he had little or no knowledge of was cause for intense inquiry and the brethren were plumbed for everything from the distance between Eryn Galen and the river Anduin to the temperature at the Misty Mountains' perpetually snow-capped peaks to tales about the humans who peopled the scattered hamlets and settlements of the less populated regions of Rhovanion or the long-established towns and villages of the Bree-land.

Elrohir and his brother patiently answered what they could with occasional aid from Glorfindel and Erestor who rode abreast with them, the captain by Elrohir's side and the counsellor at Elladan's. The result of keeping company with an inquisitive and playful child was almost predictable. Glorfindel's warriors could not quite contain their merriment when they were treated to the sight of their fierce commander throwing decorum to the wind and sticking out his tongue in a contest of one-upmanship with the irrepressible Greenwood princeling. And Erestor made clucking sounds more suited to a mother hen than an advisor of note as he watched the antics of the golden-haired mite.

“Down, little one,” Elrohir finally commanded, tugging at Legolas' belt when the prince nearly lost his balance while hanging over the Elf-knight's shoulder to make faces at the soldiers who took up the rear. “If you do not behave I shall strap you to Uilos' rump and leave you hanging there until we reach the Loudwater.”

“You wouldn't!” Legolas scoffed. But to Elladan's amusement, he slid down swiftly enough in front of Elrohir once more and clutched at the snowy mane of the younger twin's powerful destrier.

“'Tis wise of you to heed my brother,” the older twin grinned. “He is not as benevolent as he would have you believe.”

That elicited a stare of such trepidation that the brethren huffed with laughter. Legolas looked from one to the other uncertainly. He was used to the complicit sniggers of his brothers when they amused themselves at his expense. He was not quite sure what to make of the twins' mirth.

Elrohir swiftly ceased his chortling and hugged the child closer. “Do not mind us,” he soothed the prince. “We were only teasing and meant no harm.” He smoothed an errant lock of hair from Legolas' cheek. “We do not care to laugh at you but we would have you laugh with us.”

Legolas' slight frown of anxiety vanished and he smiled back. Snuggling confidently against the Elf-knight, he said: “You are the nicest Elf I've ever known, Elrohir. I know you would never hurt me.”

Elrohir swallowed the sudden lump in his throat the little Elf's words created and his eyes dropped to the silver rings on their right index fingers. He became conscious all over again of the great charge he had taken upon himself. In his hands lay the power to make or break a child's happiness. He had never known such power before and now that he held it, he knew he did not want it. Not if it meant that he could snatch Legolas' joy from him with a thoughtless word or a careless deed. For such was the Elfling's esteem of him that he trusted Elrohir implicitly - in his eyes, the Elf-knight could do no wrong. It was a daunting expectation to live up to and while Elrohir did not balk at donning the mantle of a child's adored champion, said mantle did not necessarily rest easily on his shoulders.

The circumstances that had placed him in this situation had come to an explosive culmination. Hence the sudden decision to have Legolas sojourn in Rivendell for as long as a year if need be. But before the not unexpected contretemps over the betrothal, Elrohir had insisted on hammering out the details of the agreement, as much for Legolas' protection as his own.

“I must insist on one stipulation ere I approve this contract,” he said that morn before his parents and brother, his possible future law-father and the counsellors both sides deemed trustworthy to be privy to the initial negotiations.

Glorfindel and Erestor had reacted to the news with admirable aplomb though there was no pretending that they had not been thoroughly taken aback. And Thranduil's three most senior advisors had gaped quite gracelessly for several heartbeats before recovering their wits and putting their skills where they were most needed - preparing the first draft of the betrothal document and adding amendments as they were agreed upon.

“What stipulation is this?” Thranduil inquired.

Elrohir glanced to where his proposed intended sat in an alcove of the Elvenking's study, looking out the arched window at a branchful of trilling birds outside. “That Legolas should not feel shackled by this pact,” he stated. “Should he love another and be truly loved in return, even ere he comes of age, he must be allowed to break our contract forthwith. I will not hold him hostage to it.”

“And you?” his father questioned. “What if you should love another? Will you demand the same for yourself?”

Elrohir nodded. “If it should come to that, I will ask to break our troth,” he said. “But only after I have ascertained that he will no longer be at any lecher's mercy. I would never leave him to fend for himself before he is ready.”

“But what if one of you should love the other and not have it returned?” Celebrían quietly asked. “What then?”

“That is a risk we all take when we dare to venture ourselves in love,” Elrohir calmly replied. “I will swear to this. If Legolas should love me and I have not given my heart to another, I will bind to him. I can think of no better person to wed than one's boon companion and I wager he will be that to me some day.” He paused. “As to what he might do should it be I who falls in unrequited love, I leave entirely up to him. But I think I will weather the grief should it come my way. I am my father's son after all.”

He smiled wanly at his sire who had suffered unimaginable loss since his youth and survived to become the respected and renowned Elf-lord he was today. He then looked at the prince who continued to commune with the birds outside the window.

“For so long as this pact serves its purpose I will stand for it,” he said. “But before Legolas commits himself, I would have him aware of all that it may entail.” He turned to face Thranduil. “And I believe it would be better if you, sire, were to apprise him of them, particularly this last proviso. I would not have him believe that I am in such a haste to escape our contract ere it has ever begun.”

Thranduil smiled approvingly at the Elf-knight's caution and concern. It served to confirm that he had chosen well for Legolas. He called to his son and, when the child approached, pulled him onto his lap and proceeded to explain what would be expected of him. Some he elucidated in full, others he only mentioned in passing since a youngling could hardly be expected to comprehend such matters as bodily desire or expressions of romantic affection. But he was thorough enough to ensure that Legolas understood his basic obligations as one affianced as well as his rights and privileges.

He was a trifle nonplussed when Legolas latched on to one particular detail. “And Elrohir will be mine alone, Ada?”-Papa?-he seriously inquired.

Thranduil nearly choked at this but he managed to recover. “As you will be his,” he confirmed. “But keep in mind that should you bind to each other, there will be no breaking that contract as you may still end this one.”

Legolas pouted. “Why would we want to end it?” he asked. “Does Elrohir not truly want to be betrothed to me?”

Everyone caught his or her breath at the plaintive query. At once Elrohir rose and went on his knees before the child-prince, taking his small hands in his.

“I do want this betrothal, Legolas,” he asserted. “But 'tis only right that you should know what you are entitled to.”

He held out his arms to the Elfling and, at once, Legolas went into them and, curling his own around Elrohir's neck, clung to him tightly. The others, even Thranduil's advisors, felt their throats constrict at this telling display of the little prince's need for affection and acceptance from someone other than his father. And pointed up all the more the correctness of the king's fear that, left to his own devices, Legolas would indeed easily fall prey to those who would take advantage of that need. Thank Elbereth he will be safe, Thranduil thought as he watched the younger twin cuddle his son. He signed to his chief counsellor to have the formal contract prepared.

The ensuing reactions of his other sons when they were finally summoned to witness the sealing of the pact were far less promising. The announcement was greeted with varying degrees of shock, anger and perturbation depending on the recipient of the news and the reason for his response. It proved unpleasant to put it mildly and cast an unflattering light on most of Thranduil's brood.

Aelluin and Nimaras were the most vocal about their displeasure, which was only to be expected. But Haldoron also made quite a fuss, citing Legolas' inability to honor such an agreement due to his youth. And Lalorn added his own objections simply as a matter of course. Surprisingly, Elivorn and Galvreth held their tongues for the most part though they did question the propriety of the proceedings.

“You cannot be serious, Adar!”-Father!-Aelluin exclaimed. “You would have Lord Elrond's son held captive by an infant?”

“Aye, 'tis no better than a snare,” Haldoron agreed. “An onerous burden for an Elf of so noble a house.”

“This is likely no more than a game to Legolas,” added Lalorn.

“Elrohir does not see himself entrapped,” Thranduil sharply replied.

“Out of courtesy no doubt,” Nimaras interjected. “But truly, why would any Elf in his right mind wish to be chained to one beneath him in wit and age?”

Elrohir felt his blood seethe and he turned a baleful stare on Nimaras. “I would argue that he has more wit than some Elves I have had the misfortune to know,” he snapped. “And as for age, 'twas not Legolas who behaved like a mewling brat three mornings past. Even Wargs do not turn on their young as you seem to delight in doing, Nimaras!” His glare expanded to include Lalorn. “An Orc would be better company than you or your sycophantic stooge.”

Silence descended like a shroud as Elrohir's tirade came to a blazing conclusion. Nimaras turned as white as the draperies that adorned the tall, mullioned windows of the study while Lalorn's face burned redder than was thought possible for an Elf.

“What mischief did they wreak?” Thranduil demanded after a tense while.

Elrohir coolly said: “They only provided me with yet another reason to eschew their company, sire.”

He looked disdainfully at the two. Lalorn averted his face in embarrassment but Nimaras' scowl deepened and his eyes darkened ominously. Elrohir knew he had gained a foe in the Elf-prince even if Nimaras desired him as well. He shuddered inwardly at the very thought of the latter's hands on him. Eru preserve me from such an abhorrent fate, Elrohir thought. Better to couple with a beast of the forest. At least, animals rutted without sordid intent.

Thranduil lost his temper at last and, after prudently dismissing his counsellors for the moment, subjected his recalcitrant sons to a diatribe of monumental proportions. Aelluin and Nimaras bore the brunt of the first blistering volley.

“It strikes your benighted pride to lose your quarry to a mere infant, doesn't it,” the king growled. “Well, plague take you and your foolishness! You will swallow your pride and abide your brother's good fortune, as any decent Elf should. Or is that too much to ask of you?”

To his credit, Aelluin had the grace to put on a civil face and extend his felicitations to the pair even if curtly. But Nimaras could only manage a sullen grunt of acquiescence ere he sat back in his chair in resentful silence.

Thranduil shook his head in exasperation. “Whatever did I do to warrant such churlish offspring?” he griped.

Haldoron protested. “We are not all of a piece, Adar! If I spoke against this 'tis because of Legolas' tender years. It makes a travesty of this contract!”

Thranduil scornfully replied: “If you spoke against this, 'twas because you begrudge Legolas his great luck in making a good match when you have yet to find one for yourself! I would venture that were it you in his shoes and Elladan to whom you would be sworn, you would readily welcome it, extreme youth be damned. Do not play the benign prince with me, iónen”-my son. “I am all too aware of your shameful treatment of your brother - indeed all of you - and for little more reason than what you perceive as his usurpation of your places in our people's acclaim. But truth be told, what will render you less beautiful in their eyes will not be his bountiful graces but your own unbecoming demeanors.” He leveled a flinty stare at his heir. “Take heed, Haldoron. If you do not school your ungraciousness toward your own blood, you may find yourself unloved by your subjects when I quit this kingdom!”

Haldoron flushed deeply at the scathing rebuke but dared not gainsay his sire. Thranduil laid flashing eyes on his other sons who could not quite meet his gaze with their own.

But finally, Galvreth lifted his head and said: “You are king, Adar. Your will is law. Do as you deem best.”

“For all of us,” Elivorn unexpectedly added, his brown eyes entreating the king to deal more gently with them.

Thranduil regarded his fourth and third sons keenly. Satisfied that at least two of his older progeny were behaving as they ought, he called back his advisors then turned his attention to Legolas.

The little Elf had tucked himself further into Elrohir's side as the argument over the betrothal escalated. Even when his father beckoned to him to come forth, he hesitated and peered warily at his siblings first. At length, he looked up inquiringly at Elrohir and when the latter nodded reassuringly at him, he detached himself from the younger twin and timidly went to the king.

Thranduil placed his hands on the Elfling's slender shoulders and fondly squeezed them. “Well, Legolas, the Powers have seen fit to smile on you,” he said. “But I would have you think hard on this one more time ere you commit yourself to this endeavor. For though Elrohir has stipulated that you may break this troth at any time should you deem it undesirable, while it stands you must abide all that it will demand of you.”

He smiled encouragingly at his son. “You are a child, that is true, but I have utmost faith in your acuity and I know you would never take an oath lightly or break it for no just cause.” He paused and allowed the Elfling one last, lengthy reflection. Legolas frowned in concentration then glanced at Elrohir. What he saw in the Elf-knight's countenance the king could not tell but it was apparently sufficient to make Legolas' mind up for him.

The child looked at his father and said, “Elrohir will take good care of me, Ada.”

“Then you truly want this?”

Legolas nodded vigorously, a smile threatening to vanquish the solemnity of his mien. The Elvenking perforce softly chuckled at his son's eagerness.

“Very well then, say the words, pen dithen”-little one-“that all may hear.”

With the help of Celebrían who gently coached him through the more protracted or unfamiliar phrases, Legolas somberly recited his pledge to be true to Elrohir and always hold himself in readiness for the day when they should bind to each other in sacred matrimony.

His eyes shone with innocent joy while he listened to Elrohir repeat the same words, his smile widening when the Elf-knight vowed to be solely his for so long as their troth should stand. Afterward, they jointly signed the contract, Thranduil helping his son inscribe his name on the documents.

Elrond could not help a melancholic sigh at this evidence of the nature of the betrothal. However they phrased it, masked it or whitewashed it, for the present it was a pact wrought of necessity and not of the yearning of two Elves for complete oneness. Else there would be no need to set down terms of agreement or have Elrohir and Legolas provide written proof of their collusion in it. It was not what Elrond would have wanted for any of his children. But then both his sons were and always had been upholders of duty and honor and would shirk neither for personal gain. Especially if the observance of either involved the defense of an innocent and a pure-heart.

Once their signatures were affixed to the sheets of parchment, the two princes exchanged the outward symbols of their betrothal - matching silver rings engraved with the emblems of their houses. When and if they bound to each other, the silver rings would be replaced by gold bands and their house emblems combined to signify their complete union. Elrohir then got down on one knee to bestow the requisite kiss on Legolas' pursed lips. It was a chaste kiss, virtually familial in its gentleness. But it served to remind one and all that the contract just forged could one day culminate in the ultimate coupling of two bodies, two hearts, two souls.

The Valar willing, his son and Thranduil's would come to desire that and make their pact one of love and longing, Elrond silently prayed.

The feast that followed was given all due importance as befitted a celebration in honor of the king's son and his intended. Every Elf of note in the kingdom was requested to attend and none failed to comply with the tacit command.

Elrohir had no illusions about the speculation that followed him about as the revelry got underway. He was regarded with a wide range of reactions - curiosity and suspicion, bewilderment and awe, admiration and envy. Refusing to let the not so discreet whispers and scrutiny upset him, he devoted most of his attention to the Elfling who could one day claim him in eternal bliss. Or torment, Elladan gibed with dark jocularity. Elrohir mildly chided him and concentrated on making it through the evening, gracious smile in place, dignity intact, temper firmly in hand and Legolas' felicity and trust unmarred by any untoward incident or remark.

But glimpses of a petulant Nimaras, a frigid Aelluin, an aggrieved Haldoron and a disgruntled Lalorn, not to mention the obvious disappointment of not a few Elves amongst the guests, were unspoken reminders that Legolas would have to deal with much unpleasantness in the aftermath of these festivities. While his brothers' ire burned brightly on the fuel of rejection or scored pride, the Elfling was in peril of fraternal persecution. And there would be no shortage of Elves who might seek to disillusion him by sullying Elrohir's reputation on the sly.

It was in anticipation of these possible scenarios that Elrond and Celebrían thought to reiterate Elrohir's invitation to Legolas to visit the hidden vale. Indeed they urged Thranduil to permit his son to return with them to Imladris at the end of their visit that Legolas might avoid his brothers' fresh anger and the expected innuendos of the less upright of the Wood-elves.

Thranduil, though chary of allowing so young a child of his to undertake such a long and distant sojourn, recognized the wisdom of the suggestion. The time away from Eryn Galen would serve a multitude of purposes, all to the good of the youngest prince. Not only would it spare him the initial expressions of his brothers' animosity and give him a respite from the fraught atmosphere that almost always pervaded his home in the wake of disputes, it would also afford him the chance to assimilate the ways of his betrothed's people. For should he and Elrohir eventually decide to bind, they would need to meld their widely disparate histories, cultures and beliefs into a polished and workable whole.

*********

They came to Rivendell in the last week of summer, before the verdant hues of the season's foliage changed into the burnished colors of autumn. The weather was pleasant, neither cloyingly warm nor overly chilly. And birdsong still broke the stillness in the sparse forests that dotted the otherwise empty lands in this corner of Eriador.

Elrohir gently roused the dozing child cradled in his arm that he might behold the spare beauty of the approach to Imladris. The Elfling's eyes opened then quickly widened to full awareness as the Elves' horses forded the swift-flowing Bruinen and crossed into the realm of Imladris. Following a path marked by white stones, they at length came to a sudden steep fall and at last began the descent into the deep cloven valley that sheltered the fabled refuge founded by Elrond Half-elven in the preceding Age.

Legolas gripped Elrohir's arms in barely contained elation as the heady scent of pine gave way to the myriad aromas of flowers, herbs and wild berries and the coniferous growth was supplanted by leafy oak and beech. Here and there, a wily fox or a gentle doe and her frisky fawns peeked out at the wayfarers from behind brush or tree. And many an inquisitive hare and excitable squirrel paused in their day's pursuits to regard the Elves as they passed them by.

And then the Elf-prince saw it - the Last Homely House west of the Mountains and east of the Sea, tucked into the very heart of the valley. An enchanting and sprawling estate that belied its deceptively simple appellation. About it were the elegant yet understated houses and halls of the valley's numerous dwellers.

To Legolas' Wood-elven eyes, Imladris seemed utterly foreign and intriguingly strange. There was no mistaking the stamp of Noldorin influences in the architecture, the landscaping of gardens and orchards and even in the manner of dress. In keeping with the diplomatic measure of deemphasizing dissimilarities between the two elven races, the members of the Rivendell delegation had attired themselves for the most part in the fashion of the Greenwood Elves. Only in their formal raiment had they displayed their High-elven heritage.

They were welcomed home by nearly the whole household for Elrond had sent word ahead of their imminent arrival and of the young guest who might one day join the ranks of the family that governed the valley. Legolas was quite astonished when he was greeted by all and sundry with the deference due the Lord Elrohir's intended. If any had misgivings about the sudden engagement or the unusual nature of it, they chose not to voice them. For it was hardly kind or sensible to suspect a youngling of ulterior intentions and it was far from wise to question the Peredhil about the reasons for their actions if said actions were no one's business but theirs.

The little prince was duly installed in his own quarters in the family wing right next to Elrohir's. Legolas was pleased to discover that his room was the twins' former nursery and that his whimsically carved bed with its soft feather mattress, plump downy pillows and brightly colored counterpane had once belonged to the Elf-knight. He soon found himself the object of much adoration as he was cooed over and made much of by the Elf-women of the household none of whom could resist his sweet face and innocent charm. When evening fell and the residents of the house were summoned to the evening meal, he was conducted to his place at the high table between the brethren. A place he would occupy for the whole of his sojourn in the valley realm. It was an auspicious start for one who had known more ill luck than good in his life thus far. It made for a child of great cheer at the end of the day.

So much so that, when Elrohir tucked his sleepy charge into bed that night then softly asked, “Happy, lass dithen?”, Legolas beamingly chirped: “Oh aye, Elrohir. I really like being betrothed to you!”

With that he fell asleep. And if Elrohir needed further proof of his golden prince's contentment, it was there in the blissful smile that gently curved the Elfling's lips even in sound slumber.

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

Glossary:

destrier - warhorse or charger of a knight (archaic)

lass dithen - little leaf

To be continued…
- 4
- 5
- 6
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Twilight Tales - An Ounce of Kindness