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Greenleaf & Imladris 13 - The Choices We Must Make	By : MPB Category: -Multi-Age > General Views: 5824 -:- 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
- 1-Part 1
- 2-Part 2
- 3-Part 3
- 4-Part 4
- 5-Part 5
- 6-Part 6
- 7-Part 7
- 5
- 6
- 7
Part VI

firith TA 2782

Late autumn wrought its changes on Mirkwood even as the twins’ stay neared its completion. The forest canopy thinned as trees shed their lush foliage, the air grew chillier as winter awaited its turn and the beasts of the once green wood steadily decreased in number as many sought shelter from the coming frost. It was at this last that Nimeithel decided to follow the Elf-knight’s counsel and take matters into her inexperienced but willing hands.

She approached Elladan one crisp evening as he sat beneath a leaf-bare tree in the now burnished gardens behind the royal pavilion. One might have taken her as bold considering his continued aloofness with her in the past weeks. But a peek at the shaking knees beneath her concealing skirts would have just as promptly disabused one of that notion. She was shocked by her own temerity but something more primitive drove her forth, overtaking her fright.

He glanced up in some startlement as she came up to him then gracefully sank down to sit by his side, her skirts forming a lush pool of fabric about her. Thankfully, he did not at once rise and walk away as she had feared but only looked at her inquiringly.

“I would have us on good terms, Elladan, before you depart,” she blurted out, keeping her gaze on him steady.

He went still, clearly taken unawares by her beginning statement. And then he sighed and nodded.

“Forgive me my inexcusable conduct,” he quietly said. “I should not have treated you so basely.”

She was tempted to ask why he had done so if only to confirm Elrohir’s summation of his motives. But she held her tongue on this, instinct warning her that he was not prepared to be forthcoming about his reasons and that to press him would only scuttle this needed discussion between them.

“I will forgive you but only if you listen to what I have to say,” she said. “You need do nothing more but hear me out. ‘Tis all I ask.”

He peered at her curiously then leaned back against the tree. “Very well, I will listen,” he replied.

She drew a deep breath then plunged headlong into the uncertain waters of reversed courtship. She was mettlesome in this if nothing else.

“If I was distressed by your inattention...”

“My avoidance,” he corrected, refusing her gracious reduction of the severity of his misconduct.

She paused a moment then continued. “If it troubled me, ’twas because I thought you set against me by some misdeed of mine. It – it hurt that I might have lost your – whatever regard you bore me.” She took another calming inhalation of bracing air. “A kind soul assured me ‘twas not the case and I – I have chosen to believe him. Which is why I am here now, Elladan. I would offer you a way to make amends to me for your negligence.”

His curious stare turned substantially wary. “And what way is this?” he queried carefully.

She forced herself to look him in the eye. “You are long in experience and great in skill in more than war and the council chambers,” she said. “In that area I know precious little for I have found no one whom I could trust with the delicate task of – of tutoring me.” She saw his eyes widen incredulously as he comprehended where she was taking this talk. She rushed on before her reserves of courage should run out. “If you would be my teacher in this, I shall absolve you of your trespass against me.” She swallowed hard at his utterly stunned expression. “I do not ask this lightly, Elladan. It is my dearest wish. Please, will you not grant it?”

The Elf-warrior was rendered thoroughly speechless by such unwonted brazenness. Yet he was not left so witless that he did not seek to discern the reason behind this seemingly egregious offer. He turned a searching gaze on her.

Nimeithel flushed painfully when Elladan stared at her with disconcerting intensity, storm blue eyes seeming to pierce her to her very soul. When he did not reply for the longest while, she thought him offended by her request. Humiliated, she made to rise saying: ”I am not to your liking. I am sorry for troubling you.”

A strong hand caught her arm, compelling her to sit once more. “I did not say that,” Elladan quietly responded. “Indeed, I must confess, you are too much to my liking.”

The Elven princess started. “Then why—?”

“What do you know of the choice of the Peredhil?” Elladan asked somberly.

Nimeithel frowned, recalling her brother’s tale regarding Elrond’s legacy. “Legolas told me that you have the choice to be of Elfkind or Mortal-kind,” she said.

“But the choice is contingent on our father’s presence here in Middle-earth,” he explained. “When he departs for the Blessed Realm, Elrohir and I will need to decide whether we will go with him or remain in these Hither Lands.”

“Must you actually take ship with him?” Nimeithel asked curiously.

Elladan sighed. “Mithrandir has indicated that we may remain behind if we make our choice before Adar leaves. I wish this were so. Middle-earth is the only home I have ever known. ‘Tis Valinor that would be a land of exile for me should we choose to seek the Western Shores.”

He reached up a hand to stroke Nimeithel’s finely sculpted cheek. His touch sent a thrill up her spine that left her near breathless. “I have never given my heart to any. I cannot hold anyone to the vagaries of our choice. How can I ask any Elf to bind him or herself to me when I might forsake our kindred and choose to abide by the gift of the One? What then of my immortal spouse? I will not leave anyone to grieve and fade away because of me. Certainly not you, pen vîreb.”

Nimeithel stared at him, disbelieving of his endearment. For a moment she fell silent, realizing with the wisdom of one who truly loved that she would not be able to sway him. He would not bind himself in that manner for so long as the choice loomed before him. His honor, nay, his pure heart would not permit such a transgression against one he loved. Treasured one. Did he then care for her? Were her hopes not in vain after all?

“If you will not have my love, then have me, Elladan,” she softly said. At his protest, she placed a finger to his lips. “If I cannot have your heart, then let me have your loving at least. For I am yours though no vows have been spoken. If I cannot be your bereth”—spouse—“I would be your melethril”—lover—“if you will have me.”

He stared at her almost imploringly. “You could not have made a more ill-founded choice,” he said in a hushed voice. “You deserve better, Nimeithel. You deserve one of whom you can be confident will always be there for you.”

She smiled sweetly at him, stealing his breath away. “As if the heart can choose whom it may love,” she whispered. “There is only you, Elladan.”

He made one last stab at dissuading her. “What would your father say? Or Legolas?” he said. “They would accuse me of corrupting you.”

“Nay, you know they would not,” she countered. Her smile had faded and her eyes now narrowed with sorrow. “You strive to turn me away,” she whispered painfully. “Yet you would share yourself with so many others. Even with – with Melthoron.”

“How do you know that?’ he asked in shock.

“I overheard you tell Legolas of it,” she said.

“‘Twas a lesson dealt, Nimeithel, not my heart’s yearning.”

“But you did share yourself with him. As you refuse to do with me. I am indeed not to your liking.”

She hurriedly stumbled to her feet, her heart breaking. But in the next instant she was swept into his powerful arms, enfolded in his embrace, and a hand cupped her chin, compelling her to raise her head. When she did so, she was caught in a searing kiss that banished all thoughts of flight or pain from her mind.

She melted against him, unable to do anything but respond to his demanding lips. Hers were peremptorily tasted, then hungrily pried apart. She moaned as her mouth was invaded then pillaged until she was shaking like a young beech in a gale. When he released her unbidden, she was compelled to lean against him, so bereft of balance or strength did his kiss leave her.

“Not to my liking?” he almost growled. “I have wanted you for years, Nimeithel! ‘Tis only your kinship to Legolas that has kept your virtue safe from me.”

She gasped against his chest at his unexpected words. Striving for calm, she lifted shining eyes to his gaze. “I do not wish to keep it safe from you,” she whispered. “I would make a gift of it to you if only you would accept it. I love you, Eledhîren.”—my Elvenlord.

Her declaration, her endearment, her joyous countenance – all had their part in undoing Elladan. Wordlessly, his eyes riveted on her, he lifted her easily into his arms and bore her to his room. Her heart pounding with mingled elation and maidenly trepidation, Nimeithel buried her burning face in his chest.

She almost swooned when he set her down once they were within the privacy of his room. She’d never set foot within his chamber; not once in all the centuries he and Elrohir had visited Greenwood. But now, here she was, and for the most profound and life-changing of reasons.

He gently pulled her into his arms, drew her once more into the maelstrom of his heart stopping kisses while his hands reached up and lazily undid the tiny plaits in her dark hair. Freed of their constraints, her tresses flowed loosely about her shoulders and down her back. Then slowly he unlaced her gown, doing it with such practiced ease she could not help wondering how often he had undressed other Elves, both male and female, before her. But the thought fled her mind as the last lacing came undone and the garment slid from her shoulders to spread around her ankles leaving her clad in naught but her thin silken shift. That soon followed in the gown’s wake and she shivered as she stood before him bare as the day she was born.

She shook visibly as he took her hands and raised them to the clasps of his tunic, silently inviting her to undress him.

With shaking fingers, she managed to undo the fastenings on his tunic before timidly pushing the garment from his shoulders. Unable to look at him, she proceeded to unlace his shirt, her hands becoming more and more uncooperative as she attended to the last tie. Her breathing quickened when she realized he was undoing his breeches. She closed her eyes, unable to watch as he shed the last of his garments.

A finger slipped under her chin and lifted it and she was compelled to look at him. She swallowed hard. It was different from when she’d guarded his sleep while he lay recovering from an arrow wound in the healing rooms of Rivendell. Elbereth! Profoundly, unarguably different!

Here was vitality and virility in the flesh multiplying his already incomparable comeliness threefold. She could not quite stifle a moan of desire while she appreciatively perused his formidable form. As he was perusing hers, she realized with a tight shudder, his eyes raking her body unashamedly.

Feeling more than a little insecure in the face of such breathtaking male beauty, she could not help worrying that he was not as eager about their imminent intimacy as she was.

“You are not doing this just to please me, are you?” she shakily asked.

He took her hand and kissed it, sending a bolt of pleasure up her arm. He guided her to the bed.

“Never doubt my desire for you,” he whispered as he eased her down, his body following hers closely.

And then he was all over her and upon her and in her. She was his to do with as he pleased. Such was their shared hunger that he did not shun even the most intimate of explorations nor did she resist or protest them. Such was his skill that she felt little fear and experienced minimal discomfort at this, her first undoing. And such was her love that all she desired was to give him what he sought of her no matter what it entailed.

He unearthed all her hidden passion, coaxed from her all the loving he knew she possessed, taught her what it meant for two Elves to join in the love-act. But he was taught as well. For one thing he had yet to learn despite all his years of experience in bed-play and that was to couple in love.

When their bodies became as one, he felt a surge of passion the likes of which he had never known before. For the first time, not only his body knew the pleasure of completion but also his heart and spirit. It was almost so excruciating in its intensity that he hoarsely called out her name at the moment of his release. He saw his rapture reflected in her glazed eyes, heard it resound in her moaned cries, felt it reverberate in her wantonly writhing form. And then they were falling into the sweet haze of fulfillment, lips still clinging in intimate embrace.

As they lay together, still entwined, awaiting the calming of their senses, Elladan gazed at the one Elf who had accomplished what he’d once thought an impossibility. His heart urged him to declare his feelings at once. His mind, however, counseled caution. There were still matters that needed to be resolved before he could ask her to commit herself to him. Sighing he held her closer, wondering when that time would come.

He heard her soft mewl of contentment and chuckled. She opened her eyes and looked at him, her gaze soft and devoted.

“Had I known how wonderful this can be, I would not have waited this long to rid myself of my virtue,” she murmured.

Elladan laughed softly, entertained as always by her wit.

“Had I known how you felt, I would not have waited this long to relieve you of it,” he tenderly teased.

She giggled. “‘Twas worth the wait,” she purred. “I could not have asked for more.”

His eyes darkened warningly. “Mayhap you should.”

“Should what?”

“Ask for more.”

He sealed his mouth to hers while his hands began to map her body once again. Before long, she did not even have the wherewithal to remember what it was he’d suggested much less give voice to it at all.

It was near midnight when he escorted her to her apartments. Much as she would have liked to remain in his arms until dawn, prudence told her it was not wise. None would think askance of their princess returning to her room after a late night. But if any were to see her creeping back at the break of day – that would be unseemly for one of her station.

Elladan opened her door for her. Before she slipped in, she looked at him, the sweetest smile on her roseate lips, her eyes sparkling with all the affection she held within her. This evidence of her feelings for him near took his breath away.

He took her hand and lifted it to his lips. Her countenance glowed even more radiantly.

“I love you, Eledhîren,” she whispered as she had in the gardens earlier.

Like words teetered on the tip of his tongue, so strong was the temptation to return her tenderness in kind. Elladan clamped down on the urge.

“I am honored,” he murmured. With a last smile, he walked away.

Her gaze dimmed at his less than ardent response, her smile turned tremulous. She hastened into her chamber lest he look back and see the suspicious brightness in her eyes. She had asked and he had granted no more than that he share himself with her. She would not, could not now demand anything further of him.

********

Elladan glanced up when his twin entered his chamber without knocking, a sign that there was something urgent he wished to discuss with him. He smiled and straightened up from his chore. His bed was covered with an assortment of personal belongings, all ready to be packed. Outside, the sun was already lowering as the last day of their visit came to a close. The brethren would depart Mirkwood the following morn.

“So, what weighty matter disturbs your peace, gwanneth?”—younger twin?—he inquired with a grin.

To his surprise, Elrohir did not respond but only frowned reprovingly at him.

“Elrohir, what troubles you?” he asked, slightly alarmed.

“You know that Nimeithel loves you,” the Elf-knight bluntly stated.

Elladan was taken aback. He stared at his twin wonderingly.

“Aye, she told me,” he admitted.

“When?”

“Yestereve.”

“And?”

“And what? What passed between us is—”

“None of my business,” Elrohir calmly finished for him. “I care not about that, muindor.”—brother. “But what I would know is what you told her.”

Elladan drew his breath in sharply. His silence confirmed Elrohir’s suspicions.

“For one who has declared her heart’s desire, Nimeithel’s demeanor this day has been markedly...subdued,” he pointed out. “I suspect ‘tis because it has not been answered in full. Has it, gwaniaur?”—older twin? Again, silence was his answer. “Why have you not told her how you truly feel?” Elrohir quietly asked.

Elladan turned away for a spell. At length, he faced his twin once more and sighed. “Our choice still looms before us,” he said. “I do not wish to hold her to any promise to me.”

“One might argue that she is reason enough for you to make your choice now,” Elrohir pointed out.

“‘Tis not that simple,” Elladan countered. “Our Edain heritage is as seductive as our elven one. You know this. You have felt its call as keenly.”

“Aye, that I have,” Elrohir conceded. “But you were never one to heed it before. Why now?”

“Things have changed, Elrohir. I have changed.”

The older twin’s eyes brightened with the memories of vengeance-steeped days in the wild amidst the welcome carnage of slaughtered orcs, the exhilaration of adventures in far-flung places so different from what they had always known, the lure of camaraderie and exultation of battle amongst impetuous, exasperating, utterly endearing, stout-hearted mortal warriors. He let the images flow freely, allowed his brother access to his thoughts and emotions. Elrohir recognized them and understood all too well for he knew them himself.

“After all we have seen and done, the thought of an eternity of – of tedious tranquility and overbearing quiet in Aman no longer holds as much allure for me as it once did,” Elladan said. “I once questioned your attraction to our mortal heritage but now I comprehend it. The pull of our human blood has awakened in me. I am no longer so certain of my course.”

Elrohir eyed him thoughtfully. “It seems you have kept secrets from me,” he remarked.

“And you have not?” the older twin retorted.

“Aye, I have, and I will not apologize for it,” Elrohir coolly replied.

Elladan snorted. “Then what else is there to say?” he said. “You have my reason for leaving the words unsaid. ‘Twould be inconsiderate otherwise.”

“And you deem it considerate to leave her in the dark?”

“Elrohir! What would you have of me?” Elladan snapped, feeling not a little exasperated with his brother’s unexpected needling. “I have already told you. I cannot hold her to me when ‘tis uncertain if I will cleave to our kindred or not! ‘Tis reason enough to keep my silence.”

“Nay, brother, ‘tis not reason enough to withhold what you know is already hers.” He paused; Elladan noted the indecision in his brother’s eyes. Then Elrohir seemed to make up his mind and he added quietly: “You cannot possibly wish my fate upon her.”

Elladan started then stared at his twin. Saw the silent pain in the twilight eyes, the once well-veiled anguish. He drew in a harsh breath. Elrohir bristled at the kindling ruth in his brother’s gaze.

“Show me no pity, Elladan,” he said fiercely. “I will not have it. Not even from you!”

The Elf-warrior shook his head helplessly.

“I had hoped your feelings did not run true, tôr nîn”—my brother—he said, his voice catching. “But if they do...why do you hide them from him? Why do you not follow your own counsel and tell him how you feel?”

“Because he does not return my love as Nimeithel does yours,” Elrohir pointed out, ire giving way to sorrow. “I am his friend, nothing more. Furthermore, he is still distressed by our past intimacy. He shies at even the most oblique reference to it,” he said at Elladan’s disbelieving reaction. “And now that he has chosen to close his heart... To ask more of him might very well end what we do share.” He swallowed painfully. “I would still have his friendship. I will not take the risk of losing even that. It would be...it would be the end of me.”

Elladan felt his throat tighten at this evidence of his brother’s deep-seated passion. To have suspected it was one thing. To have it confirmed and bear witness to the hopelessness and desolation with which it was conveyed... Mutely, he reached out and hugged the younger twin. “Ai, why is it that you must suffer so?”

Elrohir held him as closely. “I chose this path. I will follow it wherever it may lead me,” he staunchly replied. He pulled away and looked keenly into his brother’s eyes. “But Nimeithel need not tread the same road as I, Elladan. If you truly care for her, you will spare her the uncertainty. Believe me, gwaniuar, ‘tis agony to have but a taste of one’s desire and not know if that is all one will ever have.” He grasped his twin’s arms. “Tell her the truth, Elladan. ‘Tis for her to decide her fate. You cannot choose it for her.”

Elladan let out the breath he had not realized he’d been holding.

**********

Glossary – Sindarin for late autumn

To be continued…
- 5
- 6
- 7
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Greenleaf & Imladris 13 - The Choices We Must Make