Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

The Protege	By : alpham31 Category: +Third Age > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 3382 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any of its characters. I make no money by writing this story

Chapter List
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Legolas awoke to his second morning in Imladris, as relaxed and at ease as he had done on the first, only that his arm hurt no more, and his cheek did not smart.

He had bathed the night before, and had fallen into reverie on the marvellous chaise-long situated in front of the balcony windows. That is, he had slept as when he was still an elfling, such was the peace of Imladris, and the incipient joy he found in his friendship with Glorfindel, with whom he had spent a memorable afternoon exploring every nook and cranny of the valley mansion and its grounds. He had greeted every tree, visited every public room and museum, inquired of the allotments of herbs and vegetable produce, and had returned to the healing sector to check on Galdithion, who would be freed this morning into his own guest rooms. And all this he had done in the incomparable company of Glorfindel, who had been most diligent in his explanations and artistic interpretations of the many renderings of historical significance that graced the walls of Imladris. They had eaten lunch from a basket that Glorfindel had procured from the kitchens, in the privacy of Elrond’s family gardens, to which only he and Erestor were allowed to access without prior permission.

Legolas remembered the place well; it had a natural, intrinsic beauty, and yet there was decay in the roots of the sentinels, the once vibrant roses were singed and mottled with a blight, and a heart-crushing sadness hung about the place, and worse yet, they would not talk to him, for they seemed sad and despondent. He had said nothing to his host, for he had not wanted to spoil the wonderful moment of bliss he was sharing with his friend, but he had vowed then, to not forget this place, and to one day make a gift to the Peredhil family by restoring it to its former splendour.

And then evening had fallen, and Legolas had felt inexplicably tired, just as he had on his first day. He attributed this to the lack of threat, to the fact that he had been able to relax, really let his body and mind detach themselves and concentrate on himself, rather than on his duty to his father and people. And so he had bid Glorfindel a fond good evening, requesting that they meet the following morning for a tour of the barracks, before the personal preparations that he would need to make before the grand opening ceremony to the spring festival – the coming of the Spring Equinox, and of such special importance to him and his people.

Lifting his head from the chaise long to peak out of the windows, he rejoiced at yet another beautiful spring morning. Sitting up further he let the morning breeze caress his bare skin as he smiled into the inquiring wisps of song. All was well in Imladris, and he smiled.

A bouncy nock at his door announced an eager Glorfindel, who verily strutted into the living quarters, smiling merrily in anticipation of his plans for the day with his new companion, that is, until he realised that Legolas was there, in the living room and not in the bedroom – draped over the settee in a most invitingly erotic stance.

“Aiya Legolas, I do apologize, I had not realized you were still abed, forgive me, my friend”, babbled the warrior as he made to turn and give the prince his privacy, for he was obviously naked under that thin cotton sheet...
“Nay, Fin, we are now on first-name terms, and therefore protocol has naught to do with us, don’t you think?” Drawled Legolas, as he lazily collected the sheet and held it to himself in a somewhat half-hearted attempt to save Glorfindel from mortal embarrassment.

“That is more than fine with me, Laas”.

“Now then, my friend, what plans for me and you today?”

“Well, I had thought we would take breakfast in the main hall today. The opening gala is this evening and you will have to make your presence felt before then. You saw the reactions to your presence yesterday, albeit with a handful that managed to catch a glance at you, you do not want fainting elves at the ball now, do you?”

“Indeed, the protocol begins then. However, I would enjoy spending the morning familiarizing myself with your military installations, I am interested in gauging the differences in our militia before the cultural exchanges begin.”

“Well, we could go straight after breakfast, – morning exercise begins at 9am. I can give you some background information and then we can visit the specific training areas, that should give you a reasonable insight into our methods.” Glorfindel was all business now, for this is what he did, he was Imladris’ general and knew exactly what Legolas, as general of his own, would want to see.

“Excellent, now, I will need to speak to lord Elrond, and perhaps lord Erestor regarding the arrangements for this evening. I introduced our court musician Amanthor to Lindir yesterday, and I know they have their own agenda for the day, but I must seek council regarding protocol, I think perhaps that we do things very differently to the Noldor, our Spring Equinox implies a series of songs and dances that are fundamental to our celebration, and then there is the protocol regarding myself. Perhaps we can seek audience after the midday meal?”

“Very well, I will arrange it.”

“And”, sighed Legolas as he combed his hand through his hair, “I really must do something with this.”

“Ah...”, And with that, Glorfindel plunged into a fully-fledged panegyric of the most fashionable establishment that the whole of Imladris was raving about, and which had the prince raising more than a few questioning eyebrows...

Just before they entered the well-populated dining area, Galdithion trotted up to his friend, taking in the stares his friend was receiving along the way. This was nothing new, and indeed he frequently found himself having to protect his friend’s integrity, not that he needed protecting, but it was his duty, as his personal guard, and he did it with relish and complete devotion, for he loved his friend and lord.

“Gal, my friend, I see you are fit for active duty once more!” he exclaimed, smartly clapping his friend on the back.

“And make no mistake, Laas. You won’t get out of things that easily, I have strict orders!”

“You always do, but come, join us for the morning meal.”

Finally reaching the dining area, Legolas, Glorfindel and Galdithion were waved over to the head of the table, where Elrond, Erestor, Elladan and Elrohir were already seated, together with their guests Galadriel, Celeborn and Mithrandir.

“Come my friends, be seated”, invited Elrond.

“A very good morn to you my Lords and Lady” greeted Legolas, as he and his companions took the indicated seats.

Various bowls and dishes were served, each with a large serving spoon so that each elf could help himself to whatever took his fancy. The variety was astounding, fresh rainbow trout in butter and parsley, grilled mushrooms, with some sort of pale-coloured sauce, slices of cold fowl, cooked eggs still in their shells, a platter with fresh, uncooked vegetables, steaming bread, pastries, the list went on, and Legolas found himself unable to fix his eyes on anything, for he wanted to taste it all - maintaining a warrior’s body required healthy amounts of everything, and so Legolas was accustomed to ingesting a breakfast high in protein. And so, he served himself with a slice of the cold meat, a shelled egg, a sausage, and... and then he hesitated with the mushrooms.

“Ah, you are drawn to them, but are not sure about the sauce, is that it, my Lord?” asked Elrond. He had been watching the prince from the corner of his eye as he served himself.

“Well, yes, that is right. What is this white sauce?”

“That would be Gaerwyn’s famous cheese and chive sauce. Try it!”, he instigated jovially, for Legolas had a look of such boyish delight at his description of the fungi, and Elrond was thoroughly entertained.

Taking up the spoon, he scooped up a conservative amount of the mushroom recipe, picked up his fork and loaded it. Before taking it into his mouth, he realized that the noise in the hall had died down considerably, and that he had a healthy audience. Indeed the protocol had begun, if he had been in his rooms, he would surely be packing them into his mouth and wiping up the sauce with a whole loaf of bread!

And so he delicately took the first slices of sauce-doused mushrooms into his mouth and chewed hesitantly. His vision was lost then as he savored the most amazing fusion of earthy mushrooms, soft butter, tangy cheese, and the fresh crunchy chives.

The room was now silent, as its occupants observed the prince’s reaction. His eyes had drifted off to the side, they had misted over, his brows had furrowed – and then, his beautiful blue eyes closed and an almost lustful groan escaped him. A smile spread over the face of every elf, as Legolas opened his eyes again, and blithely said: “I have a soft spot for mushrooms”.

The room broke into laughter, as the clinking of forks, knives and glasses resumed.

“So, prince Legolas, I hear my friend and general showed you around my home, what think you of fair Imladris?” asked Elrond, as he spooned some mushrooms onto his own plate, before Legolas could finish them off himself.

“Ah, Lord Elrond, I will tell you that I am enchanted. ‘Tis truly beautiful and not at all exaggerated, for in the Greenwood it is said that your home is peaceful, serene, and of a natural beauty that is difficult to rival. Indeed they were not wrong, you have a beautiful realm, my Lord.”

Smiling, Elrond dipped his head at the prince, he felt flattered. However, Galadriel took advantage of the situation and asked a question of her own.

“And what do your people say of Lothlorien – my home?”

“Well, they say it is surrounded by mystery, and houses the tallest and thickest sentinels any elf has ever witnessed.” This last statement was made almost reverently, and Galadriel noticed.

“The mellryn are indeed mighty trees, Lord Legolas, you have never seen them, then?”

“Nay, but I should like to, if my lady ever sees fit to allow.” He countered.

“Ah, then we shall discuss that during this festival, for both I and my lord Celeborn have many suggestions to propose during our stay – for you and your lord father.”

“And may they all be propitious”, added Elrond as he redirected the conversation. He was sensing magic, and not only from Galadriel, he just wished she would stop trying to gather her intelligence in that way, it was the second time she had attempted it, and her second failure.

Legolas happened to catch Elrond’s eyes, and smiled almost imperceptibly.

Elrond also noticed that Galdithion had also caught his Lord’s eye in an unspoken question, to which Legolas negated, again almost imperceptively. There was a subtle game being played out here, and Elrond was sure that Legolas was hiding something, something not even the lady of light had been able to fathom, and which Galdithion and ... Mithrandir? were privy to, for the istar’s silence had said more than any intervention ever could.

“My lord Legolas, we were wondering if you would like to join us for a trip to the barracks this morning?” asked Elladan most courteously.

At this, both Elrond and Glorfindel turned to face the twins. Never had they heard Elladan so duteous and serious. Glorfindel narrowed his eyes as he looked closer. Yes! There it was, the determination mirrored around the older twin’s jaw line. He was controlling himself, and no mistake, the question had come out too gentlemanly, and completely out of character. He didn’t know if he liked the notion… and looking over to Elrond, he thought he may not be alone in this.

“Glorfindel and I had thought to do precisely that, if you would like to join us, you would be most welcome,” intoned the prince.

“We will accompany you there, then! In fifteen minutes at the main gate?”

“Very well, my lords, we look forward to it.”

Both Elladan and Elrohir wore identical satisfied smiles as they finished their breakfast in anticipation. Elladan however, had seen the look of disappointment on Glorfindel’s face, ‘could it be’, he wondered – ‘could it actually be that Glorfindel was falling for the prince, and not just interested in getting into his bed for a quick tumble?’ He suspected it, and one quick look at his twin confirmed that the notion was not far-fetched, it was not far-fetched at all, and for all the Valar, who could blame him?

Galdithion had opted to take his breakfast a little further down the table, and found himself sitting in front of a small group of warriors, one of which was making comments to his companions in such a way that they were not audible to those sitting close by, which to Galdithion’s way of thinking was both rude, and proof that something pejorative was being said. However he was not at liberty to confront the warrior, this was not his territory, and then again he may be wrong – there were many cultural differences between his homeland and Imladris.

Finally, breakfast was finished, and the young lords departed the table, leaving Elrond, Erestor and their guests, who were slower to rise. Pouring themselves a final cup of tea before starting the many many duties they were to see to before the ceremony that evening, Erestor looked to his friend.

“Well, well” he exclaimed, as he pushed a steaming cup towards his lord.” That was – interesting?”

“Indeed, snorted Celeborn at the gross understatement. Galadriel simply smiled as she sipped at her camomile tea. Celeborn new exactly what Galadriel had tried to do, and was actually enjoying the fact that she was failing miserably, but he was too intelligent to openly mock her for it, instead opting for patting her white hand in commiseration.

Mithrandir smiled as he turned and left the hall unnoticed. He did not want either party to rope him into giving council on the matter – besides, his pipe called out to him.

Meanwhile, Galdithion walked with Glorfindel on their way to their rooms, and the guard took advantage to sate his curiosity.

“Lord Glorfindel, who was the warrior sitting in front of me? Did you notice at all?”

After a moment’s thought, Glorfindel’s face lit up in anticipated understanding.

“that would be Melven, Galdithion. Wherefore the question?”

“Nothing of importance as yet, my Lord, only that he seems unfavourable to my prince’s visit, and as his personal guard, it is my duty to collect any information which may help me in my duty to my lord.”

“Has he insulted lord Legolas?” asked Glorfindel, with a modicum of outrage on his face.

“Nay, not insulted, but I liked not his tone. I meant not to worry you, my Lord. Tis of no import as yet.”

“But let me know if it becomes so, young warrior, for I will not have it.” Glorfindel wore an expression of fierceness and Galdithion wondered at it, he looked like any Greenwood warrior would in the protection of their lord, yet Glorfindel had known him for but three days. Indeed the friendship they had established was the object of much talk amongst the Greenwood entourage.

“Indeed, neither will his people, my Lord”, added Galdithion.

...................................

“This is the long sword training area. Today we have the third and fourth year trainees running through their exercises,” explained Elladan as they strolled around the perimeter.

“How long do your warriors train before being admitted?” asked Galdithion

“Five years would be standard, but that depends on the trainee. Some make the mark at three or four, others after seven or eight years.”

They moved past the sword training area to the short sword area, and Elrohir took over the explanations.

“Here, warriors train in the short sword. Trainees do not normally take up this weapon unless it is their specific desire to do so. It is considered a difficult discipline due to the close proximity of combat. We have only about 15 warriors trained in the art to varying degrees of skill.”

“I would like to stay and watch for a while if I may”, said Legolas, as he fixed an examining gaze on the warriors working through the stances and patterns.

All four young warriors leaned on the railings intently, observing.

“Who trains them in the art Elladan?” inquired Legolas.

“That would be Melven. An experienced warrior, although somewhat set in his ways, as you will no doubt find out. Why do you ask, my prince?”

Galdithion raised an eyebrow at that. His prince had already gained this warrior’s animosity through no fault of his own, and now, Legolas was about to discover that Melven was no master in the art.

Elladan meanwhile, wondered if the question had been posed because he was impressed with what he saw, or the contrary.

“The style is very different to that which we use in the Greenwood, and if I may be so bold to say, somewhat less efficient.”

Elladan’s interest was piqued. He was not skilled in this weapon, and neither was his brother. The only really impressive warriors in the art were Glorfindel and Melven.

Melven, by now, had realised he had an audience, and realised that the blond warrior next to Elladan was the prince. ‘Come to criticise me has he’, he wondered, for he would not suffer to be humiliated by this woodland elf who had yet to earn his respect, and who he doubted ever would, for none could match the Noldor at skill with any type of blade.

Leaving his warriors at their practice, he walked over to the railings.

“Good morning my lords. Come to watch our daily training session?”, he directed his gaze to his princes, Elladan and Elrohir.

“Indeed, Melven”, replied Elrohir. The prince Legolas has expressed his interest in the differences between our style and that of the Greenwood.”

“I dare say there are indeed differences, my prince. I would be delighted to give you instruction in the art if you would so wish.”

Elladan and Elrohir resisted the urge to roll their eyes at the arrogance of their lieutenant, while Galdithion visibly bristled at the insinuation that his prince needed instruction in an art he was grand master at. ‘Let the oaf find out for himself, then,” he thought wickedly.

The prince maintained a serene countenance, although the barb was not lost on him.

“I thank you for the offer, Melven, but I have promised lord Elrond not to engage until tomorrow, but I would be delighted to take you up on it then.?”

“Of course, my lord. It would be an honour to instruct Thranduil’s son.” Said Melven, feeling proud of himself, for he truly believed what he said. He assumed that his skill would outmatch that of the prince.

Nodding to the group, he went back to overseeing his warriors.

“You see”, said Elladan. “He is set in his ways, and he is indeed presumptuous. Do you believe he has anything to teach you my prince?”

“No”, was the curt reply. “You see the differences I mentioned before are that, while Melven is instructing them in a blade art, in the Greenwood, it is a mixture of blade and hand to hand combat, it is much more, shall we say, acrobatic?”

Elladan, Elrohir and Galdithion shared a look of delighted complicity between themselves, they would make sure they were present when Melven’s instruction of the prince began. And the twins would see to it that the whole of Imladris would be there. Glorfindel, however, was intrigued, for this sounded very much more like the Gondolin slant of the art, and asked Legolas as much.
“Tis more akin to the Gondolin variety of short-sword, but we have fused it with the Sylvan variety to produce what we believe to be the most effective one, we would be glad to give a demonstration tomorrow, of course.”

And thus they passed the day between curious onlookers, swooning elves, and Legolas commenting on the styles in archery and broadsword. The twins had had a fine afternoon, and began to appreciate the friendship that Legolas freely offered them. He had not been boastful or arrogant in any way, and had refrained from joining in the training so as not to upset their routine, or threaten Melven or any of the other instructors he came into contact with. They found him to be humble, compassionate and honourable, yet even so he seemed to command respect from those that did not know him. He was a beautiful person in every way, and he had made two loyal friends, although he hadn’t known it at the time. Elladan, however, had not completely given up on pursuing things in a different direction, although he was beginning to falter in his conviction that he would endeavour.

Afternoon meal came and all sat down, chatting about the mornings events. Elladan and Elrohir promptly informed their father and Erestor of Melven’s intention to instruct the prince in the use of the twin swords, to which Glorfindel smiled enigmatically.

“I have not seen him perform, but I would wager a great sum that Melven will be sorely humiliated.” offered Celeborn, who had been listening intently.

To this, Galdithion chuckled, drawing the attention of the group. He did not reply to their enquiring looks, just smiled a knowing smile as he took another bite of venison.

“How are preparations going for this evening, Erestor?” enquired Elrond.

“Ah, it is all quite hectic, Elrond. I have no idea what your people are doing to our beloved Hall of Fire, my prince,” said Erestor, “but it is veritably walled off with some kind of tarpaulin, I cannot see what goes on beyond, only that the strangest sounds are being emitted from the area...” he accentuated all this with his characteristic trait of throwing both arms up into the air simultaneously, to which the table laughed.

“My people have been encharged with the song and dance for the opening festival, and will do so with the help and participation of your master musician Lindir. I am sure you will see many differences in our music, our song, our dance, and I know that Amarth is more than a little anxious about whether your people will appreciate it”, said Legolas.

“Oh, I am sure they will, for a wood elf knows how to celebrate, they never miss out on an opportunity for song and dance,” guffawed Mithrandir, who had by now also joined the select group at the table.

“Neither does a Maia, as rumour would have it”, exclaimed Erestor with a sly look on his face.

Loud snorting could be heard from some elves then, but were cut off at the maia’s chiding response.

“That will be quite enough, Erestor. The point is that it is all they have to lift their spirits in these their darkest days, my friends, is that not so young prince.”

To this, Legolas merely nodded.

“Are things so dire, Legolas”. inquired Elladan.

“Aye, they are. Our warriors ride out daily from sun up to sun down. We take two turns of 4 days away from home every two weeks. Life is both hard and heart-breaking, and you will find this reality reflected in our arts.” I would say more, yet I have much intelligence to share with you, Lord Elrond, and so I shall save it for the appropriate time”, said Legolas.

“Well then, that is settled,”, said Mithrandir. I am off for a lazy afternoon before the evening’s activities, a fair day to you all!” and with that, we was stepping outside into the beautiful spring day.

Meanwhile Maeron, the royal Greenwood physician, had struck up an amiable conversation with Erestor. They were discussing the cultural differences of their nations, when it came to fashion.

“Do you use robes or tunics?” enquired Erestor.

“Well, at court either is acceptable, although tunics will be calf length. I have noticed lord Erestor, that your style tends to cover the body greatly, whereas we in the Greenwood tend to accentuate it, I am thinking perhaps we may offend your citizens at tonight’s festivities.”

“How so? Surely you will not uncover the body’s most sensitive areas?”

“Well, that would depend on what you call “sensitive areas” lord Erestor. Chests, backs, nipples and thighs will be on display, especially considering the nature of the festivities. The spring equinox is a rather sensual feast in the Greenwood, often culminating in the sharing of bodily pleasure”, explained Maeron.

“Is it now”, mused Erestor. He would get this tit bit of information to his friends as soon as he could.

Final preparations were now underway, with a scant four hours before the festivities were due to commence. Lindir, for his part, was talking eagerly to Amarth, the Mirkwood’s chief minstrel and bard. They exchanged music scores, avidly explaining the nuances of their own musical styles, and Amarth briefing Lindir as to the conduction of the musicians, who they would direct together this eve. However, there was such an exotic array of instruments that Lindir had never seen, that he doubted he could conduct the Greenwood orchestra at all. There were small, wooden artefacts with four strings that would be played with a long stick with horse crins running down one edge, the sound was strange to him, and was unsure about how it would combine with the bulk of other instruments and voices. And then there was a set of hanging metal tubes which were designed to be struck by a small hammer, and a long, flute like instrument, but with six pipes of varying lengths with gave a husky sound. And then, there were two massive drums, surrounded by other smaller drums of different diameters and heights. It was all so much to take in, he was overwhelmed – he would seek comfort in his new-found friend Amarth.

......................................

Legolas donned a more formal tunic and made his ways to lord Elrond’s library, where they were to meet to discuss the evening’s activities. Knocking on the solid oak doors, he was ushered inside by a serving elf and offered a glass of wine, which he accepted as he admired the famed room. Near the fire, sat Glorfindel, who had bowed in greeting, and then Elrond and Erestor, who both entered from the balcony which overlooked Celebrian’s dying garden.

“Ah, prince Legolas, welcome to my personal realm in Imladris”, he said as he swept his arm out and around.

“I feel most honoured to be here, in the famed library of the Lord Elrond. ‘Tis a wonderful room”, said Legolas genuinely impressed by the warm yet imposing room. As in the Hall of the lower floor, here the fire was never extinguished and Legolas wondered at the meaning of that. He would ask once time was not an issue.

“Well now, tell me of that which you would speak” invited the Lord as he sat and poured himself a glass of wine.

“Well, my Lord I would like to discuss certain customs that the Greenwood observes with the coming of the Spring Equinox, and to explain to you the meaning of other customs that my people would hold to this evening.”

“Tell us, lord Legolas, how do you greet the Equinox in Greenwoods halls”, asked Erestor, leaning forward as he was wont to do when concentrating.

“Before I begin, my lords, I have two requests to make, if I may.”

“And what would they be, prince”, asked the host.

“Firstly, that we may dispense with the titles when in private, and secondly, that you take no offence by what I must describe to you regarding our customs.”

“I well agree with dispensing the titles...Legolas, and as to your second request, you have me intrigued, yet know that I am old and have seen and heard many things, it is difficult to surprise me, or indeed offend me.”

Legolas nodded to Elrond and then directed his gaze on Glorfindel and Erestor, who nodded likewise.

“Very well then, my friends. There is some background information you need to know before I go into details. You may already have guessed that life in the Greenwood is much harsher, we live life under the shadow of a hanging sword as it were, the threat, both physical and perceived is ever present. The forest settlements are attacked on a daily basis and the dark lord’s minions are ever seeking to encroach on new ground and snatch it from the loving hands of my people. Our very existence depends on those that would give their lives to prevent this, and to protect the people and the forest in which they live – it is the warrior that is revered, for he or she takes an oath of fealty that is broken only in death, it is he or she that trains for centuries, for only the best of warriors can fight under those conditions and not lose their minds in the process, and I speak not only of physical capacity, but spiritual and intellectual capacity. The warrior is trained to the extreme in order to accept and understand the sometimes heart-wrenching decisions that one is forced to make. What is important for you to understand my friends, is that our culture is based on warfare, on living life to the extreme, of loss and mourning, and of appreciating every minute you have with those you love, for you may never see them again until you yourself perish.”

There were what seemed like endless moments of silence, until finally it was Elrond who broke it, snapping back to reality from the world that Legolas had so adeptly described. He looked at Legolas then, perhaps for the first time, and he saw the elf under the legend that his people had created. He saw a priest, a leader of masses, an intelligent and well-loved elf who somehow managed to unnerve him, for there was still a part of Legolas that Elrond new was hidden, he perceived it, even if he had not witnessed the scene in the breakfast hall.

“I had thought that this may be the case, Legolas and said as much to Glorfindel and Erestor before your arrival. Things make more sense to me now, although I can see we have much to learn from each other, for you are right, Glorfindel will tell you that although our warriors are loved and respected, they do not receive the reverence that your people give them. I have seen your civilians bowing both to the Greenwood and Imladris warriors and had wondered at it, as indeed have some of our more vocal warriors have.”

“And so, how does this affect your Spring celebrations?” asked Erestor, still hanging off the edge of his armchair.”

“Well, as a culture that lives life to the extreme, let us say we are less...inhibited shall we say, and with respect to many things, such as our style of dress, or, if I may, the pleasures of the body.”

“Oh,” exclaimed Glorfindel, you may be mistaken there my friend, for we Noldor actually have a reputation to maintain in that field. Here, and if I may speak boldly, carnal pleasure takes many forms, all considered acceptable, however perhaps we are less open about it, hence the difference you may have appreciated.” instructed Glorfindel.

“Perhaps”, answered Legolas. He wanted to add that he would wait and find out, but stopped himself, he was nowhere near on those terms with his new friends, however much he was starting to wish he was.

“And so, Legolas, what exactly goes on?” insisted Erestor. He wanted the details, especially after what Maethor had told him.

Legolas laughed, perceiving a light smattering of frustration in the councillor’s tone.

“I will tell you what may concern me most. Our ceremonial attire is – scant, at least by your Noldorin standards. There will be many chests, shoulders and thighs on display, and from what I have seen so far in Imladris, this is not your way.”

“Well I would not worry about that. For you are right, but that does not mean we would be scandalized – oh I am sure your people will raise a few eyebrows, but I do not think that will be cause for offence, but please, continue...”

“the second point, is that it is custom for a Greenwood warrior to be armed on ceremonial occasions. It is traditional to wear some sort of keepsake, perhaps from a father, or grandfather, something of import to the warrior. In fact there are certain dances that require the use of a long sword. Is this acceptable to you?”

“I will tell you, Legolas, that under normal circumstances that would not be acceptable. However, I will defer to Glorfindel’s better judgement on that issue, what say you, general?”

“I do not see why not, as long as Legolas vouches for the safety of our people.”

“I can assure you Glorfindel, that our training and philosophy would not permit it, you can trust me on this.”

“Very well, is there anything else that you wish to discuss?” asked Elrond, taking a sip from his glass.

“Well, yes, there is. There is the question of what we call carnal delight. The ceremony would traditionally be followed by indulging oneself in whatever form of sexual satisfaction that takes the fancy. And if I may be bold, it is rarely a question of two.”

“You mean orgies!” blurted Erestor, wide eyed.

“Well, in private, generally between three or four, but yes, I suppose you are right. Remember that our perception of life is much shorter, more extreme, and desperate almost.”

“We do not judge your people, Legolas”, said Elrond. “Indeed some Noldor adhere to a similar tradition, again, perhaps the difference is in the extroverted nature of your people.”

“Well you set my heart at rest, my friends, I was concerned that we would offend your people when there is nothing further from our minds.” said Legolas.

Elrond stood then, and ushered Legolas to his side as he stepped out onto the balcony, The lord stared out over his realm, at one side his two friends, and at the other, Legolas.

“You live a life full of duty and sacrifice, young one, and yet you shine so very brightly” whispered Elrond then, a strange expression upon his face as he continued to look into the horizon.

Erestor’s head whipped around to face his lord, for he recognized the tone, Elrond was having a vision. Glorfindel too, had noticed and knew not to interfere. Legolas however was looking intently at Elrond, wondering why the lord did not return his regard, and indeed why he had said what he had.

“You shine with the light of the Valar,” he whispered. “Your light speaks of nature and its part in the future, it speaks of.... of trees, and... two trees, – the catalyst...” his voice dropped off as Elrond remained distant, as if listening.

“Legolas’ eyes were wide in surprise, for he had witnessed something of Elrond’s legendary foresight, he was sure of it, and what he had said made his soul tremble, for some of the missing parts suddenly and violently had clicked into place...

“You must excuse me, my lords, for I must visit with my people before the ceremony.” Said Legolas, bowing and leaving the still absent Elrond in the presence of Glorfindel and Erestor.

“Elrond, come back” whispered Glorfindel as he placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. He stirred then, and blinked, looking at his friend squarely.

“I saw the future, Glorfindel, he was standing before the tree, a white blossom resting against his chest, and then I saw the smiling eyes of Elros...”
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The Protege