Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

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.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Chapter VI

Hrivë

Winter in Rivendell was benign as rule. No blizzards blanketed the valley realm with more snow than was enough to swallow a man's foot to his ankle. No hailstorms pelted its denizens with painful missiles of ice. True, the air was chilly enough to elicit misty puffs of breath even from the Elves, the tributary stream froze over by mid-season, the trees and plant life were stripped of their flora and greenery and the beasts of forest and meadow either departed for warmer climes or bunkered down into hibernation. But by and large Rivendell was picturesque and very comfortable in the coldest season of the year.

The reason for such mild permutations of the seasons was a closely guarded secret. Few outside of the elven refuge knew of the sapphire-stoned Ring of Power that kept hostile elements at bay. The might of Vilya combined with Elrond's own strength ensured Imladris' continuing existence into the Third Age and only a power greater than either could ever overwhelm the haven.

Elrond and his lady idly roamed their halls one quiet morning. Indeed they roamed their halls for it seemed too quiet. The day had not yet been enlivened by Legolas' high giggles and Elrohir's low laughter as the two frolicked in the garden, hurling fistfuls of snow at each other and any Elf who had the misfortune to come into their line of fire. Nor had they glimpsed the duo racing down the hallways toward the kitchens for a hot drink and a tidbit to tide them over until the noonday meal. And neither had shown up at their other usual winter haunts - the library, the cozy conservatory or the Hall of Fire.

It was only when they thought to visit the gaming room that they finally found the pair. Elrohir sat at the Strategy table, Legolas on his lap. The great black and white board lay open before them, its pieces set in their proper places. High-kings, Ruling Queens, Wizards, Captains and Turrets had already ventured beyond the defensive lines of the Foot Soldiers. Across from them was Elladan who had just accomplished a move; the game they were engaged in was obviously geared toward a novice but it was no easy endeavor nevertheless for a child of Legolas' age. Elladan now awaited the Elfling's move. About them a small crowd of Elves watched in interest and some amusement as Elrohir reminded Legolas of what his pieces could and could not do.

The little prince picked up a Wizard hesitantly. He looked up over his shoulder at Elrohir. “This one?” he asked.

Elrohir nodded. Tongue tucked into his cheek, Legolas eagerly plunked his piece down in place to block a menacing Captain. Elladan chuckled approvingly at him.

“You not only understand the rudiments of this game, you enjoy playing it,” Elladan observed. “I verily believe you will make a good captain of Elves, Legolas.”

Legolas flashed him a smile so wide and bright and his eyes lighted up with such glee that Elladan wondered what he had said that could be so pleasing. He glanced at his twin curiously but the latter only sighed and lifted his eyes to the ceiling. Taking that to correctly mean that Elrohir would enlighten him later, Elladan turned his attention back to the game.

An Elf-maiden stepped out in front of the gathered Elves behind Elrohir and Legolas and bent to whisper something to the younger twin. He listened, then smiled faintly and shook his head. While she spoke the elleth had needlessly placed a hand on his arm. Watching her, Elrond and Celebrían guessed that she had once dallied with their son ere his betrothal. Their attention was soon drawn to Legolas however.

The child had glanced back at the maiden and frowned when she leaned in close to speak with Elrohir. And then his eyes dropped to her hand on his arm and the way her fingers seemed to caress him through the sleeve of his shirt. A scowl darkened his countenance and he glared at the elleth. She sensed his stare, saw how his suddenly glacial eyes alighted on her hand before lifting them once more to her face in explicit warning. Startled, she hastily snatched back her hand and retreated before that baleful regard. Only then did Legolas turn back to the game, clasping Elrohir's enfolding arm around him even more snugly than before, a sulky pout evincing his lingering displeasure. Elladan clamped a hand over his mouth lest an untimely guffaw escape him while Elrohir rolled his eyes and shook his head in resignation.

Elrond and Celebrían exchanged glances then slipped away before their sons marked their presence. Elrond took his wife's arm in the curve of his and drew her closer as they walked toward the library.

“It seems Elrohir's assessment of the little prince's temperament was correct,” Elrond remarked. “This early he already exhibits a distinctly proprietary manner toward our son.”

Celebrían nodded. “He will be a most jealous lover one day should they choose to continue their troth.” She shivered somewhat. “And I had thought only the Peredhil capable of such possessiveness.”

Elrond raised an eyebrow at her inquiringly. “I have not heard you complain before,” he commented.

She laughed softly and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Are you trying to pry a compliment out of me, hervenn?”-husband?-she teased.

He smiled back and demurred, “Nay. But you sounded as if you did not desire such a trait.”

“'Tis not that I do not desire it,” she clarified. “Only that I wonder how deep-seated it is in the young prince. As you pointed out, he is already possessive of Elrohir's regard and they not even aught but fast friends. What more should they progress beyond the bounds of comradeship and enter into a liaison? Legolas will not only refuse to suffer any to poach on his territory, he will also closely guard what lies within and never permit any to stray without. I fear there will be the devil to pay should Elrohir ever err in that matter.”

Elrond stopped and looked at her wonderingly. “You have misgivings about this,” he stated.

Celebrían sighed. “Our son must do without intimate companionship for many more years,” she said. “I worry that he may fail in upholding his oath - not wittingly, never that - but in a moment of weakness. Should it come to Legolas' knowledge, he may not find it in himself to forgive. Especially since he holds Elrohir in such high esteem that should his belief be proved wrong it could nigh compel him to revise his opinion of our son drastically.”

Her husband regarded her keenly. He never took anything she said for granted for she was not only gifted as he with foresight but also with great insight.

“You never speak at length of matters that are mere speculation, melethen”-my love-he said. “Have you seen something of this?”

She shook her head. “'Tis merely a mother's forebodings,” she replied. “I am concerned for Elrohir. Two score years of abstinence is a long time for a Peredhel. So much can happen ere Legolas reaches his majority and may see to our son's needs.”

“Why did you not broach this concern before the contract was sealed?” Elrond questioned.

“I did not know then what Legolas is capable of,” she admitted. “I confess, I took Elrohir's words lightly for I could not believe that he would know Legolas' mind so well so soon.” She looked gravely at Elrond. “Not that it would have changed matters,” she added. “I do not think Elrohir would have refused this charge, whatever the cost to him. He doted on Legolas even then as he has never done for any child of this realm.”

Elrond nodded. “He was drawn to Legolas from the start and Legolas to him,” he agreed. “I would venture to say that they were destined to meet and cleave to each other one way or another. As to the extent of it - well, that is beyond any soothsayer's ability to foretell with any accuracy. We can only pray that they will weather whatever fate chooses to cast their way.” He smiled faintly at his wife. “Thranduil was right about one thing. Love has already been sown between them. We can only wait and see in which guise it will come to fruition.”

***********

Tuilë

“Where are we going, Elrohir?” Legolas asked for the sixth time since leaving the Last Homely House.

“Patience, lass dithen”-little leaf-Elrohir mildly reproached him. “Part of the pleasure of a surprise is the anticipation of getting it.”

Legolas looked at him skeptically but duly lapsed into silence. For the next 10 minutes or so.

They had set off on Uilos this spring morn right after breaking their fast. Hardly had Legolas downed the last of his hot, spiced porridge and honey-sweetened milk when Elrohir drew his light cloak around him, swept him off to the stables and settled him in front of him on Uilos. But instead of taking a ride around the main enclave of the haven as they usually did, Elrohir pointed Uilos toward the bridge. They traversed the stone span and headed toward the outlying homes of the valley. Speeding past these scattered domiciles they were soon crossing the wide meadow north of Rivendell.

The last snow had finally melted and the sun was shining with a vengeance as if making up for its tepid performance during winter. The gardens and orchards were only now shaking off their long sleep but the scents of blossoming vegetation were already beginning to permeate the vale - aromatic herbs, fragrant blooms and the singular green aroma of new foliage.

Legolas looked about with interest. Only once had he travelled to this seldom-visited territory and that had been at the start of his sojourn in the vale, when the weather had not yet turned. Looking back, he let his eyes wander to the two packs slung across Uilos' rump and he wondered what Elrohir had in mind for them to do this day.

At length, they came to a secluded thicket that lay by a rippling brook that Elrohir explained was an offshoot of the tributary stream that flowed before the Last Homely House. He tethered Uilos amongst the bordering trees, took down the packs and led Legolas into the thicket. To the Elfling's wonder they came to a small clearing from which the trees and brush opened into a path that led to the brook. He looked at Elrohir inquiringly when the latter threw the packs down on the springy grass. The twin took a deep breath of the sweet-smelling air before replying.

“Elladan and I are so much alike that we are oft treated as if we are of one mind,” he explained. “But in truth we are not and there are times when we retreat from each other's company to be alone with our thoughts. Elladan has his secrets and I have mine.” He extended his arms in an encompassing gesture. “This is my haven, Legolas, and none know of it, not even Elladan. I want to share it with you.”

Legolas caught his breath at this evidence of the enormity of the Elf-knight's trust in him. He clasped his arms around Elrohir's legs in his now familiar gesture of affection.

“I will keep it a secret, Elrohir,” he chirped. “I promise.”

Elrohir smiled and ran his fingers fondly through the silken strands of the Elfling's hair. “I know you will, little one.”

He bent down and, opening one pack, pulled out a large blanket that he spread on the grass beneath a beech. Inviting Legolas to recline as he wished on the thick mantle, he reached into the other pack and withdrew a bottle of mead mild enough for a child to drink. This he carried to the brook and set securely between two outcropping stones in the water. The newly thawed water would chill the mead just in time for the noonday meal.

Returning to Legolas' side he sat down and took a book out of the first pack. Legolas sat up quickly when he saw it was not a book he had previously seen. Elrohir grinned and, tapping his lap, soon had the inquisitive child ensconced therein. Leaning back against the tree, he opened the book and began to read from it. Within moments, the little prince was lost in a tale from the Second Age of the world - of a great realm by the sea and a High-king whose best-known name meant 'radiant star'. His eyes grew ever rounder as Elrond's name was mentioned and Glorfindel and Erestor and even Celebrían and her parents, Celeborn and Galadriel. But most startling to the Elfling and of greatest interest was when his own grandsire and father's names appeared and the story of their passage east from Lindon was recounted.

By the time Elrohir finished reading the pertinent portions of the book, the sun was high in the sky and Legolas was bursting with so much curiosity that he scarcely paused in between questions long enough for Elrohir to answer them with any sense.

“Breathe, Legolas,” he suggested. “'Twill do you no good to pass out from lack of air.”

Legolas opened his mouth to retort that he was taking in enough air before he comprehended that the Elf-knight was only teasing him. He playfully punched Elrohir in the arm, a glancing blow that the latter hardly felt. But the twin feigned distress nonetheless, which had Legolas repentantly rubbing the spot until Elrohir could stand it no more and he scooped up the child in a tight cradling hug that had him squirming and shrieking in mirthful protest. Settled once more on Elrohir's lap, Legolas managed to still his tongue enough for the twin to finally explain matters to him to his satisfaction.

They did not return to the Last Homely House until the sun was already beginning its slow afternoon descent. A bountiful picnic lunch of fresh bread, golden cheese, succulent ham, dried winter fruit, sugar-glazed nut rolls and the chilled mead followed by a brief restorative nap under the sprouting boughs of the sheltering beech and many hours of vigorous play and hearty laughter left its mark on the woodland prince. He could not desist from recounting over and again to anyone who would listen the delights he had known this bright spring day. But Elrohir's haven, and now his as well, he kept secret as he had promised the Elf-knight. For Legolas, however young, was no breaker of his word as he would proudly say in years to come. And that was not a thing to scoff at.

***********

Lairë

The weeks passed all too swiftly and before Legolas knew it, summer came upon them. The cool mornings and crisp evenings and frequent showers and intermittent downpours gave way to warm days and balmy nights and, save for the occasional summer storm, the sun reigned supreme.

Once more the outdoors beckoned and the brethren, when their duties permitted, brought their little charge on many a day-trip to the far-flung corners of the vale and even a few camping expeditions outside of it. On the first of these longer sojourns, they met up with a band of wandering High-elves, Exiles from the First Age who, like the twins' grandam Galadriel, had remained in the Hither Lands instead of returning to Valinor after the lifting of the Ban. Thereafter, the company crossed paths with them so regularly Legolas became convinced there was more to it than mere coincidence. Gildor the son of Inglor was their leader and though he was kind and gallant and merry, Legolas never quite warmed up to him. Mayhap it had to do with Gildor's inordinate familiarity with Elrohir, which was not at all to the princeling's liking.

On one of these encounters, the company set up camp with them for the night. After dinner, a few of the High-elves managed to coax Legolas to leave the brethren's side and join them where they sat around the fire, exchanging strange tales and singing songs in a language Legolas had never heard before. He seemed to enjoy himself after his initial diffidence but still he kept his distance from Gildor much to the latter's bafflement.

The brethren sat apart from the others, taking the opportunity to confer with each other in private. Legolas was a joy to have around for he was unfailingly cheerful and such a sweet and tender soul. But his presence did inhibit the twins' more intimate confidences.

“Poor Gildor,” Elladan remarked as he watched the tableau by the fire unfold. “I wonder what Legolas will say when he learns of your, ah, divestment of innocence at our friend's hands?”

Elrohir snorted. “So elegantly put, brother, when, in truth, 'twas a rabid tumble we shared that first time and naught more. Besides, 'twas I who importuned Gildor in my eagerness.”

“Eagerness to shed your virginity or eagerness for his company? You never did tell me.”

“The first. And since I did not care to have my first bedding become fodder for local gossip, I thought it prudent to choose an Elf not of the valley.” He smirked at Elladan knowingly. “You are not much different, tôr iaur”-older brother. “Else why did you have a Lindon maid attend to yours?”

Elladan grinned at the memory. “She was a beauteous one,” he said reminiscently. “And shameless, too. 'Twas she who approached me after the feast at Círdan's house, did you know?”

Elrohir chuckled. “You were willing to wait to be wooed. I was not. Gildor was there. It was an excellent opportunity. Why not take it?”

The older twin shrugged. “Why not indeed? I only pray you will have the right words to explain the matter to Legolas when he comprehends what passed between you and Gildor.” He glanced at the prince who for now was content to sit with the High-elven folk. “Yet I envy you, brother. Would that I knew a regard as pure and unrelenting as his.”

“'Tis but a child's regard,” Elrohir somberly pointed out. “It may change as he grows.” He sighed. “We may well part ways long afore his majority.”

Elladan fell silent for a space. When he roused himself, he said: “Somehow, I think not. If aught makes him break your troth, 'twill not be for lack of love or the waning of it.” He gripped Elrohir's hand hard, his grey eyes glittering oddly in the dark. “Beware, gwanneth.”-younger twin. “Let nothing and no one tarnish you in his eyes.”

Elrohir was startled by his twin's sudden vehemence. “I am not perfect, Elladan!” he protested. “Sooner or late, I will err and he will have to accept that I am as flawed as any Eruchên.”-child of Eru.

“Oh, he will accept your flaws,” Elladan said with eerie certainty. “He is no addle-pated fool. But he will hold you to any oath you utter however lightly you may make it. Do not make promises you may be unable to keep, tôr neth.”-younger brother.

The strange light in Elladan's eyes soon faded but Elrohir took it for what it was. A moment of acute prescience touched by intuition. He did not ignore it; it was never wise to do so. For it ran in their blood and, for ill or good, it oft parted the veils that separated the present from the future. Not to mention that Elladan's pronouncement closely matched what he had gleaned from a lengthy conversation with his parents the past winter. Best be guided by such warnings than turn a blind eye to them.

Their hushed exchange was interrupted when Gildor came to them and, settling down by Elrohir, offered them a dish of wild berries freshly picked from the bushes about them. The proferred fruit was gladly accepted with warm smiles. Gildor, unaware of the suddenly alert blue eyes that now watched his every move, slipped into easy intimacy with the younger twin and invitingly held a plump morsel to the Elf-knight's lips. Elrohir hesitated but, cognizant of that watchful gaze, suddenly felt a wicked urge to see what would come of his compliance and, with a shrug, allowed Gildor to pop the berry into his mouth.

Scarcely a second passed before he found himself with a lapful of highly indignant Elfling. He looked down at Legolas and was startled to find his large eyes swimming. He did not know whether to be amused or alarmed by the child's reaction. Legolas' words soon wiped the humor from his countenance.

“Ada never let anyone but my Nana feed him,” the prince pouted. “Do you love him that way, Elrohir?” he demanded, his chin jutting in Gildor's direction.

Gildor stared at him with bewilderment while Elladan, his moment of gravity past, fought to smother his mirth though his eyes conveyed a succinct 'I told you so' to his beleaguered twin.

“Nay, penen vell”-my dear one-Elrohir hastily replied. “Gildor is but a good friend, nothing more.”

“But you seem so close to each other. And he looks at you like-” Legolas paused to think of an appropriate comparison. “Like the way Moriel's warrior looks at her.”

His three companions caught their breaths. Gazing into a pair of ominously bright eyes that demanded enlightenment, Elrohir felt himself at a momentary loss. And then he decided to do as he always did when dealing with his precocious charge. To be honest and direct and trust to Legolas' intelligence and perspicacity to save the situation.

“Gildor and I were once closer than friends,” he said, ignoring the older Elf's gasp at his candor. “We kissed on occasion and spent some nights together a few years after my coming-of-age.”

“Like Ada a Nana?”-Papa and Mama?-Legolas asked, his lower lip beginning to tremble.

Elrohir firmly refuted the notion. “Nay, not like them,” he said. “They loved each other and that is why they shared the same room and bed. But there are times when two Elves may need close companionship even if they do not love each other. That is what Gildor and I shared, Legolas.”

“And still do?”

The Elf-knight shook his head. “For so long as we wear these bands,” he stated, touching their matching rings, “no more will I seek close companionship with others.” He made Legolas face him and touched his forehead to the Elfling's temple. “'Tis no longer proper for me to do so. But when you have grown some, mayhap you will grant me the pleasure of your company. And, the Valar willing, we will be as your Adar a Naneth were to each each other. What say you, lass dithen?”

He did not stir but let the child mull the matter over. He did not expect Legolas to truly comprehend the concept of bodily intimacy nor did he wish the Elfling to know about it overly soon. But he had explained the situation as simply and as closely to the truth as was possible for a youngling to understand and that would have to suffice.

Legolas did not disappoint him. After a while, he looked at Elrohir and sweetly smiled.

“I hope I grow up fast so that I can keep you company as you wish,” he sincerely declared. “I do not want you to be lonely for too long, Elrohir.”

Oblivious of the choking sounds on either side of him, he curled his arms trustingly around the Elf-knight's neck and warmly embraced him before settling down in his lap once more. Gildor did not wait for a possible encore of the child's fearsome glare and quietly took his leave of the twins.

It did not take long for Legolas to fall asleep. Elrohir carried him to the natural bower of low-lying leafy branches and overgrown vines that would serve as their shelter for the night while Elladan bade goodnight to the company before following. They lay down on either side of the slumbering child.

Elladan studied the Elfling intently. With a shake of his head and a rakish grin, he whispered, “Well, that was a most interesting conversation. I did not think you had it in you, Elrohir. My, but you are brave to take him on.”

The younger twin let out a shaky exhalation. “Then you did not notice how badly my knees where knocking together,” he muttered. “If this is what 'tis like to raise a child, then 'tis just as well that I shall likely not have any.”

Elladan snickered and softly agreed. After a moment, he looked at his brother again. Elrohir was gazing at Legolas with a mixture of wonder and trepidation. Heaving a sympathetic sigh, the older twin reached over and patted the Elf-knight's arm encouragingly.

“Your handling of the matter…?” he murmured.

“What of it?”

“'Twas well done, brother. Very well done, indeed. I must commend you.”

Elrohir stared at him then relaxed and ceased his fretting. “Now if only I can survive the years until he has grown some,” he quipped, only half jestingly.

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

Glossary:

Hrivë - Quenya for winter

elleth - Elf-maid

Tuilë - Quenya for spring

Lairë - Quenya for summer

Adar a Naneth - Father and Mother

To be continued…
- 6
- 7
- 8
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Twilight Tales - An Ounce of Kindness