Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

Twilight Tales - An Ounce of Kindness	By : MPB Category: -Multi-Age > General Views: 26421 -:- 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
- 7
- 8
- 9
Chapter VII

Eryn Galen, iavas TA 210

He was careful not to show it but in truth Thranduil, King of the Woodland Realm of Greenwood the Great, was as anxious and excited as an Elfling about to embark on his very first pony ride. Not that anyone would have laughed had they known. What else could be expected of a father who was about to meet his child after a whole year's absence? And a child hardly removed from infancy at that.

Waiting before the wide stone bridge that fronted his halls, he glanced at his gathered counsellors then at those of his sons who had come with him to welcome home the babe of their family - Aelluin, Galvreth and Lalorn. Haldoron and Elivorn were expected to return from patrol that evening but what excuse did Nimaras have for staying away? Thranduil's eyes hardened. His fifth-born was proving to be a most recalcitrant Elf and all the figurative spankings he had administered in the past year had not reduced his obstinacy by much. Well, he would reap a bitter harvest if he did not mend his ways, the Elven-king thought. He turned his attention back to the approaching party.

His scouts had kept him abreast of the Imladrin Elves' progress from their entry into the great forest to their passage along the ancient elven track that led to the Wood-elves' kingdom. The company was well armed but few in numbers and composed mainly of warriors. It was no diplomatic delegation; simply an escort bringing the intended of their lord's son home. But that said lord's son had chosen to accompany his betrothed was telling of more concern and affection than Thranduil had ever expected.

He peered closely at the riders on the lead horse, snow-white Uilos. There was his tiny son snugly ensconced in the Elf-knight's securing embrace. And from the looks of the child's radiant smile and glowing eyes, there was no mistaking his felicity.

Elrohir reined in Uilos when they came to the edge of the clearing a few paces away from the woodland monarch and his sons. Gracefully dismounting, he bowed his head deferentially to Thranduil before lifting Legolas from Uilos' back and lowering him to the ground.

To Thranduil's astonishment, Legolas did not hesitate in uncertainty but raced to him and flung himself into his waiting arms. He hugged his son tightly, burying his nose in the fragrant locks of his youngest. Legolas giggled and drew slightly away to look at his father.

“I missed you so much, Ada!”-Papa!-he chirped and planted a kiss on the tip of his delighted sire's nose.

“And I missed you, hênen vell”-my dear child-Thranduil said with a smile. “Though I gather you enjoyed yourself very much judging from the one letter you remembered to send me.”

The jesting reproach was lost on the Elfling and he nodded vigorously in agreement. “Oh, so very much, Ada!” he exclaimed. “Elrohir and Elladan brought me everywhere they went and Glorfindel let me spar with his soldiers and Erestor taught me all about Gondolin and Nargothrond and Lindon. And on my begetting day, Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrían held a party for me and Elrohir gave me a sigil all my own. See, here it is!” Patting the long white knife in its leather sheath at his belt, Legolas happily continued his narration. “I also have my very own bow and quiver now. I will show them to you later. Oh, and did you know that you and Grandpapa are mentioned in so many books in the library? There was even a story about how you moved here from Lindon. Elrohir read it to me and-”

Thranduil speechlessly stared at him, unable to recognize in this animated, loquacious Elfling the quiet, withdrawn child of just a year back. He briefly shifted his gaze to Elrohir, eyebrows raised in tacit inquiry. The Elf-knight simply grinned and nodded.

“Mercy, Legolas!” the king pleaded, not sure whether to laugh or groan. “Do slow down and take a breath now and then!”

“My sentiments exactly, hîren”-my lord-Elrohir snickered. “And one I oft had to remind him to do.”

Legolas glared momentarily at him but quickly softened and chortled merrily instead.

“Aye, he did, Papa,” he admitted with a scapegrace grin.

“I take it Elrohir took good care of you then?”

“Oh, very well! And it makes me sad that he cannot stay.”

“I must meet my parents and Elladan in Lothlórien,” Elrohir explained. Glancing at Legolas, he saw the signs of a renewed spate of pleas and, in an attempt to preempt it, he swiftly added: “We talked about this, lass dithen”-little leaf-“remember?” To no avail.

“But surely you can stay a short while?” Legolas implored him nonetheless. “Elladan would not mind if you are a little late.”

“Oh, Legolas, I wish I could but-” He stopped when he saw the child's face change from joyous to woeful in just the space of a few minutes. He sighed in resignation. “I can stay a week at most,” he relented. “If your father will permit me.”

While Legolas squealed with glee, Thranduil smiled inwardly. It seemed Legolas had the Elf-knight firmly wrapped around his little finger. It would be interesting to watch how their relationship evolved whichever path it took.

“Of course you are most welcome to stay, Elrohir,” he warmly said. “Indeed, I would much appreciate being apprised first-hand of what has happened west of the mountains the past year.”

**********

Not all the changes were on Legolas' side alone as he and Elrohir soon discovered. For one, Thranduil had moved the Elfling's quarters to an apartment nearer to his own that he might keep a closer eye on him. For another, he had designated the guest chamber across Legolas' new rooms as Elrohir's permanent quarters when he was in residence in the Woodland Realm. And last but not least, he had replaced Moriel and Glorowen with two Elf-nurses highly recommended by his advisors.

Celebrían had kept her word and sent a letter to Thranduil regarding the matter of Legolas' caregivers. She had couched it in diplomatic language so as not to touch on the Elven-king's renowned pride or raise his ire overmuch that he would take it out on the erstwhile nurses and they in turn vented theirs on Legolas when the opportunity arose.

Acknowledging the valid concern behind the tactful missive, Thranduil had used Moriel's upcoming nuptials to relieve her of her duty. As for Glorowen, the subject became moot when, discerning the true reason behind the king's unexpected dismissal of Moriel, she asked to be discharged as well.

The new nursemaids proved of a very different disposition. They had not previously been a part of the royal household and subsequently held no deep-seated loyalties to anyone. And they were kind and concerned for their little charge's needs. No longer did Legolas feel that he was being cared for only out of duty and without due affection.

But not even their tender attention could compare with his estimation of Elrohir's care.

Thranduil watched them closely the entire week of Elrohir's extended stay. He saw his son's contentment and new confidence. Noted how tenderly Elrohir attended to Legolas' needs and how his son returned each gesture of affection in kind and with alacrity. Most of all, he perceived that love for each other was already embedded in their hearts. Not the love of spouses, of course; far from it. But they were the fastest of friends for all their difference in age and Elrohir was clearly a beloved mentor to Legolas as well.

The Elven-king was pleased to have his instincts about the Elf-knight proved correct and the wisdom of his scheme affirmed. Legolas was definitely in good hands. And Elbereth willing, he would continue to be so in more ways than one when he came of age.

**********

The eve of Elrohir's departure the king called him to his study for a convivial drink and some talk. He also bade him bring Legolas if he so wished. Elrohir did and Thranduil had to grin at the sight of his little son curled up on Elrohir's lap while the latter lounged easily on the couch before the fire. Clad in a pale blue nightshirt, his fair hair tousled from a brief wresting bout with Elrohir, he looked more fragile than the delicate crystal statuette on the king's desk, a memento of his late wife.

But Thranduil knew now that at the Elfling's core was the beginnings of an iron will. Nourished by proper care and guidance, it would serve him well provided it could be honed and tempered so as not to lead him astray into folly.

He watched his son settle sleepily in the Elf-knight's arms. At a whispered reminder, Legolas sheepishly smiled at his father and sweetly bade him a good night. And then he turned into Elrohir's cradling embrace and was soon lost in his dreams.

Elrohir gazed at him, enchanted as always by his innocence and childish beauty. He did not notice the king's scrutiny until it virtually scorched him with its intensity. He looked up into keen, speculative eyes and flushed under that weighty regard.

“You and he have gotten along very well,” Thranduil remarked with egregious understatement.

“Aye, majesty,” Elrohir replied. “Scarcely a day passed that we did not miss each other's company.”

“More so Legolas it seems,” the king said. “He does not wish for you to leave just yet.”

Elrohir laughed softly. “I dare say he would keep me in his pocket if he could.”

“You realize why he is loath to see you go?”

The twin nodded. “I am his shield against adversity. With me, he feels brave and strong.”

“And that is not a thing to belittle,” Thranduil said. “You have restored to him his belief in himself and in so short a time. And for that I will be forever grateful. But the true test of his mettle will come when you are no longer at his side. How he fares on his own will tell us whether I chose well or ill for him.”

Elrohir stared at the king. “'Twas not only the protection of a betrothal you sought,” he said at last.

Thranduil nodded. “I sensed you would guard him as faithfully as I would,” he admitted gravely. “From the moment you reached out to him in aid, a child you did not know, I knew you would take him into your keeping and tend him well.”

Elrohir caught his breath as the full import of the king's intentions struck him. Thranduil saw that he knew.

“You understand now, don't you?” he gently said. “A betrothal will protect him from most unworthy pursuers but it will not deter all. And a youngling sorely lacking in love and attention might listen to promises of both however lightly they may be uttered even with a contract hanging over his head. Should it come to that, 'twill not be the letter of the law that will shelter Legolas but its spirit. As embodied in your regard for each other. He will deny others because of you, pen neth.”-young one. “He will refuse to share with them what he believes is yours alone. What better defense is there against blandishments than a heart already given?”

The twin swallowed hard, moved by the extent of the king's confidence in him.

“But that presupposes that we will love each other unto wedlock one day,” he hoarsely pointed out. “There is no surety of that.”

“There is none. But even if you do not, your devotion to him will have served its purpose. He will have grown in wisdom and acuity. I would see him safe, Elrohir, and so would you.”

Elrohir fell silent for a spell and Thranduil studied him. So young and yet already so sage and dutiful. Was it his upbringing or was it an inherent trait of the Peredhil? He did not recall many Elves who had been as wise and grown at the same age; it oft took a century or even more for most Edhil to fully mature in heart and body and spirit. The Elf-knight looked up at him.

“But what if he should love me and I not him?” he softly queried. “I know I said that 'tis a risk we all take when we venture our hearts. But after caring for him all these months, getting to know him so well… He has become so dear to me, I cannot bear to be the cause of his heart's breaking.”

The Elven-king smiled but with little mirth. “Ah, but 'tis your heart that is in greater peril of that, I wager.” Noting Elrohir's startled reaction, he added: “You Peredhil do not give your hearts easily but when you do, you give it wholly and irrevocably. 'Twas a choice of the heart that cleaved his brother from your sire after all.”

Elrohir looked at him in wonder. “You knew them in Lindon?”

“Aye, though I was but a youngling not yet come of age. I thought it harsh of Elros to decide thusly in light of your father's grief. Until I saw she who became his queen and how he regarded her. It did not baffle me then that he desired to join his fate to hers.” Thranduil shook his head. “There is of course a precedent in your family of this strange propensity for mortal mates and the Doom of Men.”

A chill snaked up Elrohir's spine even as Thranduil spoke. He wondered if the monarch's words might prove as unwittingly prophetic as it was painfully reminiscent of the ancient past. But no, he reminded himself. Neither he nor Elladan desired to espouse themselves to mortals. Befriend them, yes, by all means, but not cleave to them in marriage. He shook off the unbidden foreboding and looked down at his sleeping charge.

“You are most likely right, sire,” he murmured. “Mayhap I will be as doomed as Maeglin was, seeking that which can never be mine.”

He gently stroked the child's petal-smooth cheek with his fingers. As if recognizing his touch, Legolas turned his face into the caress and snuggled deeper into his embrace.

Thranduil wryly commented, “And mayhap you will not for my son seems determined to belong to you even now.”

**********

Legolas was nigh inconsolable when Elrohir left the following day. He could not muster even the slightest of smiles as he watched the Elf-knight formally take leave of his king-father. Behind him, Elrohir's escort had mounted their steeds and quietly awaited him.

The Elf-knight caught him up in his arms and held him close. Feeling the tiny body tremble, a portent of imminent tears, he pressed tender kisses to the Elfling's face, promising to do his best to come back to him soonest.

“Will you not smile for me, lassen vell?”-my dear leaf?-he coaxed. “I would go on my way with the memory of it to succor me. Please, Legolas, do this for me.”

The prince bravely put on a tremulous smile though his eyes were awash with tears.

“Thank you, my sweet one,” Elrohir whispered. He planted the customary kiss of parting on Legolas' quivering lips. Legolas clung to him tightly one last time before the Elf-knight handed him into his father's arms.

The Elfling held on to his smile as Elrohir vaulted onto Uilos' back. He kept it while the Imladrin party slowly rode across the clearing toward the elven track. And when Elrohir turned to wave at him, he forced his smile to brighten just that bit more for the Elf-knight's sake. But when the Rivendell contingent disappeared from sight, he broke down and, sobbing quietly, buried his face in his father's neck.

His own throat suspiciously tight, Thranduil hurriedly bore him back to the pavilion and the privacy of his quarters. His other sons followed, their reactions to their brother's grief as varied as their natures. Of them all, Nimaras was expectedly the least sympathetic. Of them all, Galvreth was the most though even he did not realize it.

Dinner that night was quiet and somber for the most part. Legolas was subdued and Thranduil was of a mind to let him nurse his child's heartache in soothing silence. Afterward, the family proceeded to the gaming room where they were wont to spend their evenings together on the infrequent days when Thranduil was not preoccupied with affairs of state.

A somewhat desultory card game was in progress when Thranduil was unexpectedly called away by the captain of his army who urgently sought an audience with him. Legolas wistfully watched him leave. At least, in his father's presence, he knew some comfort and felt the better for it.

Haldoron rose from the card table and flung himself on a divan with a groan. “Ai, you have certainly milked your moment of glory dry, tôr dithen.”-little brother-he groused.

Legolas turned startled eyes on him, a flicker of hurt in their depths. Without thinking, Galvreth intervened.

“Leave him be, Haldoron,” he said. “He only misses Elrohir, that is all.”

“He was with Elrohir a whole year!” Haldoron grumbled. “You would think he'd had his fill of the Peredhel. Indeed, his cup has run over many a time if his tales are to be believed.”

Elivorn chuckled. “Is that envy I hear?” He ignored Haldoron's glower and said: “But it is quite a waste of the Elf-knight's charms that they should be held in reserve for a youngling. I am sure Aelluin and Nimaras agree with me. What a pity such largesse was not bestowed on either of you.”

Nimaras scowled at him but Aelluin shrugged dismissively. “Keep a civil tongue, Elivorn,” he mildly reproved. “I am no thief of other folk's property.” He looked at Legolas, sighed and rolled his eyes. “Especially an Elfling's meager possessions.”

“Meager?” Elivorn snorted. “When the twins swam with us last summer, I found little about them to call meager.”

Haldoron and Lalorn sniggered at the salacious observation while Aelluin could not help a smirk.

“Well put, brother,” Lalorn quipped. “There is indeed nothing 'little' about them.”

Comprehending the gist of their bawdy exchange, Legolas felt his indignation flare. He sat up straight in his chair, frowning fiercely.

“Do not talk about the gwenyn like that!” he cried. “'Tis unkind and - and disrespectful.”

His outburst rendered the others stupefied for several seconds. But Nimaras rallied and turned on him.

“And who better to know that than one who shows such disrespect for his betters?” he snapped.

A mutinous pout pursed Legolas' mouth. “You are not my betters!” he retorted. “Only Papa is!”

His feathers ruffled by the child's unexpected defiance, Nimaras snarled: “Why you insolent pup of a Warg-!”

“Nimaras!” Galvreth spoke up chidingly. “Must you stoop to bandying insults with a child?”

“But he should be taught some manners,” Nimaras shot back. “Just because he sojourned in Imladris, he has grown all puffed up!” He looked hard at Legolas. “Well, dear brother, you should rethink your importance in this kingdom. Or rather the lack of it. Why, scarcely anyone marked your absence and 'twas only when Father toasted your health on your last begetting day that any recalled you were gone or that you even still existed!”

Silence descended on them as if a thunderclap had cut off all talk. Galvreth stared at Nimaras in disbelief and disapproval and noted mirroring reactions in the others' faces save curiously for Lalorn. That had been no mere slap on the wrist; that had been a veritable jab to the gut.

Thoughtless they may have been in their past dealings with their Elfling brother but never had any of the older princes been deliberately cruel and with such chilling malice mixed into the noxious brew. Nimaras had overstepped his bounds.

“That was uncalled for, Nimaras!” Aelluin sternly snapped.

The prince bristled at being taken to task before Legolas. “I was only putting him in his place for he needed some humbling,” he retorted with a baleful stare at his youngest brother.

While their argument raged, Galvreth turned his attention to the little Elf. Legolas had blanched under the scathing attack and now cowered in his seat. His head was bowed as had been his wont when teased beyond endurance ere Elrohir's advent. But Galvreth saw how he bit his lower lip to still its trembling and tightly shut his eyes to keep his tears from spilling over. Shame and guilt spurring him on, he stood up and joined the Elfling on his chair. Unsure of what to say - for it was not something he'd had long practice in, this soothing of a child's hurt feelings - he mutely rubbed Legolas' back instead.

The child lifted his head and looked at him with such gratitude that it stole the very breath from his lungs. Legolas then seemed to retreat into some inner sanctum within himself and his eyes took on a faraway look. Instinctively, Galvreth knew that he had gone to the place where his memories of the Elf-knight resided. And sure enough Legolas' eyes slowly brightened and a small smile curved his lips.

Without warning, he laid his jewel gaze on Nimaras and with amazing aplomb boldly declared: “I do not mind. I know Papa missed me and now Elrohir will.” He tilted his head pityingly at his increasingly bewildered brother. “I am sorry that you have no Elf-knight to make you feel better, Nimaras.”

In the stunned silence that followed, he beamingly bade Galvreth good night, nodded in deference to Haldoron then traipsed out of the room and headed for his apartments where his night-nurse awaited him. Galvreth stared after him with growing admiration and the first glimmerings of respect. He glanced at his likewise astounded siblings.

Nimaras appeared nigh apoplectic. Lalorn sniggered and was dealt a dagger look by his embattled brother. He quickly smothered his mirth for Nimaras had a temper and quick fists to match. Haldoron, on the other hand, was frowning, upset by the thought of any of them being so summarily bested by an upstart child. And Lalorn, though he had found reason to laugh at Nimaras' expense, agreed that Legolas had grown too impertinent for his own good. But Aelluin had turned thoughtful, his azure eyes lost in contemplative reverie. And Elivorn looked as if he had just been roused from a long, dark dream if his bemused expression was any indication. Galvreth himself felt quite conflicted and he wondered not for the first time or the last what had started his antipathy toward Legolas and why he had nursed it all these years.

Confused by his mixed feelings, the silver-haired Elf rose and, with a curt nod to the Crown Prince, took leave of his brethren and departed for his quarters. Upon entering the candle-lit sleeping chamber, his eyes fell on his empty bed. Before he could stop himself, he envisioned his heart's desire reclining on it. Trying to dismiss the much too enticing image and failing quite miserably, he wondered if his unfulfilled yearning had aught to do with his slowly changing thoughts and emotions toward the littlest prince of all.

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

Glossary:

iavas - Sindarin for autumn

sigil - knife or dagger

Edhil - Elves

gwenyn - twins

To be continued…
- 7
- 8
- 9
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