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Twilight Tales - Hallowed Fate	By : MPB Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 4698 -:- 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-Meeting
- 2-Learning
- 3-Restraint
- 4-Coping
- 5-Guile
- 6-Awakening
- 7-Undoing
- 8-Musings
- 9-Sojourn
- 10-Reckoning
- 11-Illumination
- 12-Avowal
- 13-Beloved
- 14-Visitations
- 15-Tryst
- 16-Choice
- 17-Torn
- 18-Resolve
- 19-Voyage
- 20-Fate
- 8
- 9
- 10
Chapter IX: Sojourn

Ethuil FA 14

The climate turned slightly cooler and the foliage changed markedly as the party of travellers headed further north. Going by the western roads and stopping only for the briefest of rests, they moved swiftly, covering the distance from Gondor to the north in less time than most other journeymen managed it.

Legolas, youngest Elven prince of Eryn Lasgalen, glanced at the rider to his left and smiled. The latter was looking about him with the fascination of one who took great pleasure in discovering new environs. Imrahil had not pestered him during the trip but the man’s palpable interest and elation was enough to spur any Elf to answer his unspoken questions anyway. There was simply something about his manner that touched his Elf-companions and moved them to befriend him.

His inclusion in the group had been quite sudden. Legolas had gone to Minas Tirith to inform Elessar that he would be leaving for the north for a lengthy period of time. For Rivendell, to be precise. It so happened that Imrahil was also visiting the Guarded City as was his duty from time to time being one of the members of the Great Council of Gondor. He was alone with Aragorn when Legolas sought an audience with the king.

“Ah, and has Elrohir summoned you?” Aragorn murmured with a smile. Legolas had not requested that Imrahil leave and so the king had taken that as an indication that the Belfalas lord knew about the relationship of the two Elves.

Legolas smiled back and shook his head. “Nay, I go because I miss him,” he honestly replied. “We have not seen each other in six years. ‘Tis quiet in Ithilien now and I can leave my people for a long spell.”

Aragorn nodded understandingly. “Extend my regards to my brothers then,” he said. “And do tell Arwen of your plans. She may wish to send them letters or gifts.”

Legolas had hardly left the council chamber when Imrahil hurriedly excused himself and went after him. The Elf halted when the prince hailed him and waited for the latter’s approach.

“Legolas, about your journey north,” Imrahil began. “When will you leave for Rivendell?”

“Within the week,” Legolas answered. Noting Imrahil’s slight indecision, he said: “Why, Imrahil? Is there something you wish for me to tell or deliver to Elladan?”

Imrahil snorted. “Not unless you care to deliver a man,” he said dryly. At Legolas’ astonished reaction, he added: “‘Tis only that before we parted ways, Elladan extended an invitation to me to visit him in Rivendell.”

Legolas’ face cleared and brightened. “And you would like to accept it now,” he said.

Imrahil nodded a little sheepishly. “I have not found the time to get away for such a long sojourn but, as with Ithilien, Belfalas is quiet and my sons can rule in my stead for a goodly while,” he explained. “I had been thinking of it but I do not know the way and, save for the king and queen, there are few in Gondor who do.”

Legolas held up his hand. “Say no more, meldiren”—my friend—he assured the prince. “You are most welcome to join me. And Elladan will be happy to see you.”

Imrahil beamed widely. “Thank you, Legolas. I am indebted to you.”

And so, here he was in the company of Elves once more and seeming no different from them especially with his cloak hood up. One would think him just another composed Elf making his way to the remaining realms of the Firstborn in the north. But deep within he was far from composed. Not when a part of him was wondering if his decision to join Legolas was wise. And the other part pondering his reason for doing so.

Because I miss him, he admitted to himself anew. And missed him every day of the six years since they’d last seen each other in Ithilien. He sighed inwardly. The only other time he had felt this terrible yearning had been when Aerin still lived. He had suffered through their partings with outer dignity but little inner peace. Upon her death, he’d thought he was done with affairs of the heart. Until he met Elladan once more in Emyn Arnen.

Things had never been the same for him again.

********

They made the trek down the steep path into the hidden vale of Imladris just as the afternoon was drawing to a close. Imrahil was conscious of hidden presences all about but could not see any sign of them. Beside him Legolas gestured to the groves of fragrant pines and thick clusters of brush.

“They are all around us yet you will never see them unless they will it,” he said softly. “But they will bring word of our arrival to the brethren.” His keen eyes glimmered in the burnished light of the waning day. “‘Tis different since so many Elves left with Lord Elrond,” he murmured. “It used to be that one would be greeted by the sounds of merriment and singing ere one reached the bottom of the cleft. There is still much joy and song in Imladris but it is muted now. Its time is drawing to a close and soon this valley will be no more than legend.”

Imrahil felt the Elf’s melancholy at the inexorable passing of his kindred into the histories of Middle-earth. He tried to imagine a world where the Elves would only be a memory and not as he now knew them – tangible living and breathing beings as beautiful as the day and sage as the night. The thought saddened him immeasurably.

He felt his excitement rise anew however when they crossed the river and headed for The Last Homely House as Legolas had referred to it. Imrahil shook his head mentally at the egregious understatement of the name. This was no house they approached but one of the most enchanting abodes he had ever had the pleasure to see. Yet as they neared it he began to understand the appellation. These halls did not exude the distant coolness of some great lord’s seat but a coziness and warmth that belied the elegant sprawl of the entire estate.

His heart skipped a beat when he caught his first sight of the twins awaiting them in the stone-paved courtyard before the house. Behind them were several members of their household.

Elrohir did not hide his impatience in the least and no sooner did Legolas’ steed enter the courtyard than he strode forward to meet his mate. Hardly had Legolas dismounted when he was swept into an ardent embrace, his mouth crushed against Elrohir’s in a breath-stealing caress. Imrahil would have whistled were it not beneath his station to behave like a common foot soldier.

He noted the utter lack of embarrassment on either Elf’s part and wondered at their ease about such openness before others. At the same time, he found he envied them just the tiniest bit. Even he and Aerin had had to be circumspect in their demeanor when in the presence of others. It was not a thing accepted by most men to flaunt their desires. He could still recall the shock that had ensued in the wake of Elessar’s overheated reception of his bride-to-be when first she came to Minas Tirith. It must be liberating to be able to show one’s love so honestly and unashamedly, he thought wistfully.

At length, a grinning Elladan tapped his brother on the shoulder and said with a chuckle, “We all understand your eagerness, gwanneth”— younger twin—“but I suggest you retire to your chamber and do whatever it is you wish in private!”

The lovers broke apart laughing under their breaths. Still grinning, Elladan spared a sweeping glance for Legolas’ escort, mentally tallying how many warriors to provide quarters for. Realizing the Elf-lord had not recognized him, Imrahil pulled back the hood of his cloak.

Elladan’s eyes widened upon seeing him. For a moment, the Elf could only stare at him as if unable to believe his eyes. “Imrahil?” he finally said, darting a questioning look at Legolas.

The Elven prince clapped a hand to his forehead and said: “Ai, forgive me. I was so overjoyed to see Elrohir again, I forgot Prince Imrahil’s presence!”

Noting his twin’s odd expression, Elrohir remarked, “You made no mention of this in your last letter.”

Imrahil broke in at this point, himself disturbed by Elladan’s reaction. “I asked to join him only after he sent word of his journey here,” he explained. “I hope I have not come at an inappropriate time?”

“Not at all,” Elrohir said, coming forward to take the prince’s hands in his in greeting. “Welcome to Imladris, Imrahil. I trust your journey was smooth and uneventful?”

“Completely,” Imrahil smiled. “There is something to be said for travelling in the company of Elves. Miscreants make themselves scarce rather than pit themselves against your kindred.”

“Ah, but not Orcs,” Legolas said. “We are fortunate they are no longer as numerous as they once were.”

“Indeed,” Elrohir agreed. He looked pointedly at his brother. “But where are our manners, muindor?”—brother? “Imrahil must be weary and would appreciate some rest before the evening meal. Erestor’s room, do you think?”

“Aye, it overlooks the gardens,” Elladan quietly said. “Come, my prince, let me present you to our grandsire Celeborn and then I will take you to your quarters.”

Imrahil was too much a nobleman and a soldier to display whatever feelings he must have felt at Elladan’s less than enthusiastic welcome. Still and all, a shadow of his confusion registered on his countenance and after he passed them to follow the Elf-lord, Legolas looked inquiringly at Elrohir when they, too, entered the house.

“What is wrong with Elladan?” Legolas whispered. “That was hardly the kind of reception I had expected him to give Imrahil.”

Elrohir shook his head. “I am certain he will realize his error and rectify it.”

“I hope so,” Legolas murmured. “Imrahil does not deserve such treatment after making the effort to come here. And at Elladan’s invitation no less.”

Elrohir glanced at him. “Elladan invited him?”

Legolas frowned. “So Imrahil said when he asked to join me.”

“Strange. Elladan made no mention of that to me.”

“Well, I see no reason to doubt Imrahil’s word.”

“Nor do I.” Seeing Legolas’ displeased expression, Elrohir sighed and said: “I will speak to him on this.” He curled an arm around the archer’s waist. “But for now I would like to give you a proper welcome, melethron.”—lover.

At that, Legolas’ frown dissipated and he smilingly allowed his spouse to usher him to their chamber.

*******

A hot bath was the supreme balm for the aching muscles of several days' riding for Elf, Man or other Free Folk. Imrahil was no different and he eased himself into the steaming water with a grateful sigh. Rather than assign a guest chamber to him, the brethren had given him their chief counsellor’s old room, which had its own bathing chamber. Imrahil had been thankful for it meant he would not need to seek out the public baths. Feeling as he did at the moment, he preferred the solitude of his room than the convivial atmosphere that necessarily pervaded public bathing rooms. He needed time to assimilate all that he had seen and heard in the hours since his arrival in the legendary refuge.

The first thing that had struck him was its air of ancient age and lore. Founded some sixteen centuries before Minas Tirith, Rivendell belonged to an era of myth and mystery. Compared to this haven, Dol Amroth was a virtual adolescent. And the sense of otherworldliness ran deep here. Deeper even than in the elven colony in Ithilien.

Legolas’ folk were Wood-elves from Greenwood. Only the archer himself was of Grey-elven blood but he tended to carry himself as a Silvan Elf rather than an Elda. Here in Rivendell, every citizen to an Elf was sprung from the ancient races that had returned from Valinor or abided in Doriath in the First Age. In this later time, only a few Noldor remained, mostly descendants of the original exiles from Aman. They were outnumbered by Sindar such as the Lord Celeborn and the steward-minstrel Lindir whose ties to Middle-earth were so strong they would likely delay their departure until the last of the Elves left the Hither Shores.

If Imrahil had been fascinated when so many of the Eldar had come to Minas Tirith to witness their Evenstar’s wedding to Elessar, all the more was he now awestruck, here in the heart of one of their most venerable realms. He could only imagine what it must have been like at the height of Elrond’s power. When Vilya protected the vale.

He had learned that much from the twins during his extended holiday in Ithilien all of six years ago. He had finally understood why Elrond and the Lady Galadriel had seemed so weary and eager to leave Middle-earth. Tied closely to the rings they had guarded for millennia, they had been duly affected when said rings lost their power. They had diminished as the rings had diminished and only Valinor could restore them to wholeness once more.

Seated on the low ledge that ran along the circumference of the tub, he leaned back against its tiled wall, closed his eyes and let the warm water soothe his tired body. He could not complain about his treatment. Dinner had lifted his spirits not only due to the excellence of the food and wine but also because of the witty repartee that had accompanied the meal. The musical performances and recital of tales and poetry in the Hall of Fire had further leavened his mood.

It was only when he returned to his chamber that a measure of heavyheartedness returned. And it had to do with Elladan.

The Elf-lord had been an exemplary host throughout the evening. He had been solicitous of Imrahil’s comfort and needs and drew him time and again into whatever conversations there were around them. One could not fault him in the least as far as duty was concerned. And that was what had troubled Imrahil most. Elladan had acted as if he were duty-bound and not as if he and the mortal prince had come together in the most intimate of ways once upon a time.

Was I wrong to come here? he wondered pensively. Mayhap I should not have presumed upon his hospitality without prior warning. Mayhap I should leave. The very idea of going so soon grieved him.

He now knew that what he felt for the Elf-lord was not just the suddenly awakened desires wrought of his long-ignored elven heritage. As soon as he’d lain eyes on Elladan once more, he’d known the truth and thought to fight it at first. But it was not a fight he could win. He had lost his heart once. He had not thought himself destined to lose it anew. But he had and to one he deemed beyond his grasp.

He did not expect a reciprocation of his love. It was too much for a mortal to ask that of an eternal being. But he had hoped Elladan felt some affection for him at the very least. Even the ephemeral affection uncommitted lovers held for each other. It was not what his heart yearned for; he had ever been one to give wholly of himself or not at all. But he had decided he would be content with that if that was all that was to be had.

He may have felt something of the sort then, Imrahil thought sadly. But not now. Not any more. He sighed again. I did not even consider that he may have found himself another lover in all these years. He bit his lip as even the very thought caused his heart to ache with a dull pain.

The faintest splash caught his attention and he opened his eyes to see what had caused it. He caught his breath to find Elladan before him.

The Elf-lord had unbound his hair and it now flowed down his back and spilled about his shoulders in silken profusion. Imrahil gasped as knowing hands slid up his torso, the supple fingers kneading tight muscles even as they stroked his skin. He felt himself suddenly possessed of an arousal so potent he felt fit to burst.

“What is this about?” he asked, fighting to keep his voice steady.

Elladan’s smile was restrained, apologetic. “My welcome earlier was worse than inadequate,” he murmured. “I would make amends for it, Imrahil nîn.”

The prince gazed at him, his countenance grave. Managing to ignore the fast blossoming build up of pleasure within him a while longer, he expressed his unease.

“I am sorry if my coming here upset you,” he said, unable to keep some tightness out of his voice. “I will leave soonest if you will provide me with a guide. I do not wish to presume on your—”

Elladan silenced him with a kiss of such searing ardor it effectively threw his thoughts into passionate turmoil. An attempt to return them to some semblance of order was promptly foiled when Elladan pulled him into his arms and allowed their rigid shafts to slide against each other in rhythm. Imrahil rasped against the Elf’s lips as the pressure in his groin became near unbearable. It had been far too long since he’d lain with another and known the rapture of release.

Do not hold back, my prince. Have your pleasure now.

The command was like a caress in his mind. Barely managing to stifle his cry of release, Imrahil gave in to his body’s fervent need. A moment later, he knew Elladan to have found his when the Elf buried his face in the crook of his neck and sucked hard at the flesh there, surely marking it for days to come. Imrahil felt a sharp pleasure stir through him that Elladan should know such bliss in his arms.

Afterwards, he leaned back against the tub wall, still panting shallowly. When Elladan sat upon the ledge by him and pulled him into a gentle embrace, he turned his head to gaze at the latter wonderingly. This was the Elladan he had known in Ithilien. The Elf-lord he had unwittingly come to love. Why had he been so reticent earlier?

Elladan saw the question in his eyes and smiled with scapegrace rue. “It was unconscionable of me to treat you so churlishly,” he said. “Please forgive me.”

Imrahil sighed. It was no answer at all to his confusion but he sensed Elladan’s reluctance to address the issue at the moment. He let it go. He would find out later. After all, it looked as if he was not about to leave Rivendell any time soon after all.

“Forgive what?” he smiled. “I daresay you were taken by surprise and reacted accordingly.”

“Aye, that I was,” Elladan murmured, nibbling at the rim of Imrahil’s ear, causing shivers to rippled through the man’s body that had nothing to do with the crisp weather or the cooling water. “But it was a most pleasant surprise. I was delighted to see you.”

“Were you?” Imrahil said unsteadily. “I find it hard to believe that,” he admitted, not quite able to forget the Elf’s cool reception.

“Then I must prove it to you, mustn’t I?” Elladan smiled and, rising, pulled Imrahil to his feet and out of the tub.

He took his time drying the prince’s body, turning even that most mundane of tasks into moan-inducing foreplay. By the time, he was tumbled into his bed beneath the Elvenlord, Imrahil was fairly simmering with reawakened need.

More than an hour later, ensconced in Elladan’s arms after several bouts of lively bed-play, Imrahil weakly implored: “Enough! You will kill me if you continue thusly!”

“And do you believe me now?” Elladan asked with a wicked swipe of his tongue against the man’s lips.

“Aye, I believe you,” Imrahil laughingly said. “But it will hardly do us any good if I expire from the proving of your delight!”

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

Glossary:

ethuil – Sindarin for spring

Imrahil nîn - my Imrahil

To be continued...
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Twilight Tales - Hallowed Fate