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Greenleaf & Imladris 1 - Meldir: At First Sight	By : MPB Category: -Multi-Age > General Views: 5910 -:- 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
- 1
- 2
Title: Greenleaf & Imladris 1 - Meldir: At First Sight

Author: Eressë (eresse21@yahoo.com)

Pairing: Elrohir/Legolas (eventually)

Rating: PG13

Summary: The twins and Legolas’ first encounter in Greenwood the Great leads to a close and lasting friendship.

Disclaimer: I don’t own LOTR or any of its characters. Both are the property of that wizard of storytelling, JRR Tolkien and his estate.

Author’s Note: This is the first story in a series detailing the evolution of Elrohir and Legolas’ relationship.

Meldir: At First Sight

Part I

Eryn Galen, laer TA 234

Morning dawned bright and golden on the High Pass in the Misty Mountains, the main passageway over the towering peaks to the lands east of the range. Following the route, a party of twelve travelers on horseback slowly made its way. Cloaked in grey, their heads hooded, they might have been mistaken for ordinary Men but for their slenderness and the exceptional grace with which they bore themselves even upon their steeds. As the morning lengthened and the sun grew warmer, they pulled back their hoods, revealing the long locks and leaf-shaped ears that marked them as altogether nonhuman. They were Elves from the hidden vale of Rivendell.

Elrond Peredhil glanced at his wife and sons. The Lord of the fabled elven-refuge sat tall and proud upon his steed. He was of an unusual comeliness born of his extremely mixed heritage. Maiarin, Elven and Mannish blood mingled in his veins with potent results. None could dispute the wisdom in his eyes or the battle-honed lines of his warrior’s body and limbs. His obsidian mane and grey eyes spoke of Noldorin forebears, in striking contrast to his exquisite wife, Celebrían, whose silvery hair and azure gaze made her seem almost unreal.

The heiress of the Golden Wood carried herself with a cool elegance that frequently misled many into thinking her aloof and unsocial. Yet in truth the mistress of Imladris was a kindly soul with a wicked sense of humor and a probing mind. She had been gently raised in Lórien, sheltered for the most part from the vicissitudes of life in these uncertain days. She was knowledgeable about them as any intelligent being would be but she had rarely experienced them herself. Her doting husband had continued what her parents had wrought, taking care to shield her as they had done. Thus, there was an innocence about her that belied her innumerable elven years.

They were journeying with their sons and several members of their household to the Woodland Realm in Greenwood the Great. The visit to the kingdom of Thranduil, lord of the Silvan Elves of Eryn Galen, was an unprecedented event. For so long had the Sindarin king held aloof from the other Elf-lords, distrustful of their Noldorin connections, his dislike exacerbated by the role played by their last High King in the deaths of his father, Oropher, and a heartbreaking number of Wood-elves during the war of the Last Alliance of Elves and Men against the Dark Lord Sauron in the last age.

Not even his kinsman, Celeborn, Lord of Lórien, had managed to broker a diplomatic relationship between Greenwood and Rivendell or his own realm. Thranduil was as suspicious of Celeborn’s Noldorin wife, Galadriel, as he was of Elrond.

But Elrond had persevered and the two Elves had finally met the preceding year just before winter closed the passes of the Misty Mountains. The Peredhel had succeeded in thawing the Elvenking to the extent of eliciting an invitation from said monarch to pay an extended visit to his kingdom the following summer with his entire family. Elrond had not wasted any time in organizing the trip. He did not care to jeopardize the chance of an alliance with the Woodland Realm by giving Thranduil enough time to repent of his actions and rescind the hard-won invitation.

He’d struggled, however, over the prospect of bringing his sons, debating endlessly with his wife about all the things that could go wrong with the twins around. Though in their nineties and past the age of majority, Elladan and Elrohir were still proving more than a handful to their oft beleaguered parents, teachers and most of the members of Elrond’s household. But their mother had firmly insisted that they come along. Thranduil had invited the whole family. Would Elrond have him think there was something so dreadfully wrong that he would leave his sons behind?

Celebrían looked fondly at the twins. They were so much alike in appearance that they were oft mistaken as identical. Yet there were differences between the brothers both in their physical features and their personalities. They were tall and lean but with the slight tendency towards broader shoulders and meatier limbs that was a legacy of their sire’s human ancestry. Both were exceedingly fair of countenance for they were equal parts their father and mother.

Their coloring was distinctly Elrond’s and so they were raven-haired and grey eyed. But the blackness of Elladan’s mane was softened by the faintest hint of brown and his eyes were lighter and tinged with blue, a trait inherited from their fair-haired mother in whose veins Vanyarin blood flowed as strongly as Noldorin. Elrohir’s locks, on the other hand, were of an unusual blue-black and his eyes were purest grey akin to the color of twilight right before the stars emerged; some even swore that they seemed almost silvery.

Their differences in personality were less subtle than their physical dissimilarities. Elladan was the warmer, friendlier twin; the one who met and made friends with ease and speed. Elrohir was cooler and more cautious yet when he finally made up his mind as to someone’s worth was then fiercely loyal and protective.

Elladan was diplomatic as a matter of course. As a rule, he would sooner bite his tongue than straightly utter anything offensive unless, of course, he completely detested someone and therefore considered it a waste of time being polite. Elrohir could be diplomatic if he put his mind to it and if it was absolutely necessary to be so. Indeed, he could be as effective as the oiliest courtier if he thought it worth his effort. But he was more often painfully frank in his opinions especially in the case of fools or blackguards.

The twins were masters at getting what they wanted. But while Elladan preferred to cajole his way into achieving his desire and could probably charm a scorpion into stinging itself to death, Elrohir relied on the sheer force of his personality and was more apt to bend others to his will. Only those for whom he held the highest regard escaped being subjected to such handling.

Both brothers were high-spirited and adventurous. Rivendell may have been founded as a refuge by their father but there were times when the members of Elrond’s household wondered if they needed refuge of another sort from his twin sons. Evil had no place in their makeup or malice or the need to torment others. But mischievous they could be and usually were and therefore mayhem oft followed in their wakes. It was common wisdom in Imladris that when the twins were up to no good, it was better to be far, far away. Like at the Grey Havens for instance.

In one particular matter were they already gaining quite a reputation and a disreputable one at that. Their carnal appetites had developed earlier than most Elves and hardly had they attained their majority when they had began to indulge it far more diligently than was considered normal for the average male Elf. This unusual predilection was ascribed to their half-elven heritage though it was also pointed out that Elrond had never been promiscuous as his sons promised to be.

In all this, Elladan was considered the more restrained of the two. For though initially aloof and wary in any first encounter, Elrohir was very difficult to rein in once he wanted someone or something. Elladan was less guarded yet at the same time also less passionate about people and things. The depths of Elrohir’s feelings, once plumbed, were almost bottomless.

“Just how important is this visit, Ada?”—Papa—Elladan asked, breaking his mother’s line of thought. The question reminded the Elven couple that they had not fully briefed their sons on the significance of the visit, caught up as they had been in preparing for it.

“I would call it a coup, ion nín”—my son—Elrond replied. “Considering how much Thranduil detested the Noldor, this invitation of his is nothing short of a miracle. I have no doubts that were Oropher still alive, such a thing would not come to pass. We must count it a most opportune blessing that Thranduil is more farseeing and practical than his father ever was.”

“But is an alliance with the Wood-elves all that necessary? With the Dark Lord overthrown, what is there to fear?”

Elrond shook his head. “We overthrew Sauron but we did not utterly defeat him,” he pointed out. “Isildur ensured that when he did not destroy the One Ring as we had counseled him. The ring may be lost but it is not unmade. Until that comes to pass, I do not believe it wise to relax our guard. Already, many of our people have left these lands. We are no longer as numerous as we were in the last age. Only in unity with our remaining kin will we find the strength to withstand what the years to come may bring. ‘Tis well that Thranduil perceived the advantages of forging an alliance with us. He, too, seeks to secure the future of his people.”

“Did you know him well?” Elrohir inquired.

“Well enough. He lived in Lindon for a while, south of the Lhûn. We sometimes went hunting together. We might have become good friends had he and Oropher not left for Greenwood.”

“Why did he include you in his animosity?” Elrohir queried. “I thought ‘twas only the Noldorin exiles he hated. What did he hold against you?”

“His father’s death,” Elrond replied briefly.

Elrohir said in surprise: “But Oropher launched his assault against the Dark Lord before Gil-galad gave the signal. Why should Thranduil blame you for that?”

“Thranduil is cognizant of his father’s mistake. He does not blame anyone for that. But when he discovered his father’s folly, he tried to send for help from Gil-galad. Unfortunately, the High King delayed in answering his plea and by the time our forces arrived, fully two-thirds of Oropher’s people had been slaughtered, including Oropher himself.”

“But ‘twas not your fault,” Elladan pointed out. “We understand his anger at Gil-galad but why you as well?”

Celebrían suddenly snickered, a sound so unlike her usual graceful laughter that it surprised her sons. “‘Tis because someone told Thranduil that the High King’s delay was due to a dalliance,” she explained, smiling at her twins’ stunned expressions.

“A dalliance, Nana?”—Mama—Elrohir exclaimed. “With whom?”

“Your father,” Celebrían giggled as her husband turned a mild glare on her. His glare became a little more severe when their sons goggled at him in turn.

“A false tale,” he stated tersely. “Both Círdan and Glorfindel were with us when Thranduil’s messenger arrived. Besides, Gil-galad and I were never lovers despite what some fools chose to believe. And you should know better than to repeat that story!” he said pointedly to his mirthful wife.

Elladan managed to choke back his laughter at his sire’s discomfiture. “Then what did delay Gil-galad?”

Elrond sighed. “Anger. He was so enraged at Oropher’s actions he almost did not send any help at all. Círdan and I had to convince him to do so but by then the damage had been done. Oropher was dead as were a great number of his people, that preposterous tale had been carried to Thranduil by Elbereth-knows-who and the surviving Wood-elves had decided to have no more to do with the decadent Golodhrim who thought nothing of taking their pleasure in the midst of battle. They only awaited the downfall of Sauron before renouncing their participation in the Alliance and severing all relations with us.”

The twins whistled at the chain of incidents that had worsened the centuries-long chasm between the woodland kingdom and the Eldarin realms.

“What changed Thranduil’s mind then, Ada?” Elrohir wondered. “Why this invitation to visit his kingdom?”

Celebrían laughed softly. “Your father finally managed to convince him that he was not the cause of Gil-galad’s delay,” she explained.

Elrond had to grin. His wife’s humor was infectious. “I told him I preferred fair-haired Elves,” he chuckled. “One look at your mother was enough to persuade him that I spoke truly.”

After a bout of shared laughter with his family, Elrond then said, “But truth be told, you can thank your mother and Queen Ithilwen for this opportunity.” Elrond smiled proudly at his beauteous wife. “‘Twas the best idea I ever conceived of when I brought her along on that first meeting with Thranduil. She and Ithilwen got along so famously that Thranduil decided to try an alliance with us for his wife’s sake. ‘Tis said he can never deny her anything.”

The twins chuckled mischievously as their father’s cheeks colored slightly. Elrond had never been able to deny their mother anything either!

“What are their sons like?” Elrohir asked curiously.

Celebrían was the one who answered. “Handsome for the most part and bidding fair to be as strong and skilled in arms as their father. Personally, I like the youngest prince.”

“Legolas?” Elrond reacted with some incredulity. “He is a match for our sons in high spirits and the ability to get into mischief unaided!”

Celebrían smiled. “But kind-hearted and intelligent besides. And he has a great zest for life as well,” she pointed out. “Melthoron is too much like Oropher in my opinion, and Brethildor shows promise as a warrior, nothing more. ‘Tis a pity Legolas is not the eldest. He would make a worthier heir to Thranduil than either of his brothers. His abilities are already apparent though he is barely past his majority.”

Elrond nodded. “You speak wisely as ever, melethen.”—my love—“I, too, was struck by Thranduil’s youngest. He seems delicate beside his brothers but I deem his appearance deceptive. There is hidden strength and courage in him.”

Elladan smiled. “Then you do not object to our associating with him, high spirits and mischief aside?”

Elrond glanced at the older twin with a somewhat jaundiced eye. “And would my objection have any bearing on whether you befriend him or not?” At the shared grin between the brothers, he said: “I thought not. Why you see fit to afflict me with meaningless questions is beyond me.”

Just then they crested the highest point of the pass and the eastern lands opened up before them. The twins stared at the vast carpet of green that lay before them. Eryn Galen, Greenwood the Great, the mightiest surviving forest in Middle-earth, spread out almost endlessly before their eyes.

“Thranduil’s kingdom comprises the entire north of this forest,” Elrond informed them. The brethren had to gasp in amazement. “A great realm, do you not agree, ionnath nín?”—my sons.

While the twins nodded in awe, their mother added: “And an important one if we are to prevail over whatever evils are yet to come. Thranduil’s people may not be as learned as the Eldar but they are valorous and skillful and loyal to a fault. They will make strong allies.”

“I expect you both to be on your best behavior,” Elrond sternly told his sons. “Or is that too much to ask of you?”

Elrohir smiled. “We will do our best, Ada,” he replied, “but if Legolas is, as you claim, our match in getting into interesting situations, you can hardly blame us if something untoward happens.”

“Aye,” Elladan agreed. “We would not offend our royal host by declining any offer of entertainment.”

Elrond groaned and shared a long-suffering look with his wife. “Well, I survived the Battle of Dagorlad,” he grumbled. “Mayhap I will escape unscathed from this visit, the Valar willing!”

With considerably more swiftness they began the descent down the eastern side of the Misty Mountains. They still had several days of travel ahead of them before they would reach the borders of the great forest and none wished to tarry at this point of the journey.

*******

As they approached the elven path that led into the deeps of Greenwood, they espied the party of Wood-elves awaiting them. It was easy to identify Thranduil at once though he was clad as simply and starkly as the rest of his party. The golden-maned Elf-king radiated power and authority. He was well built and exceedingly handsome. The tales of a Vanyarin foremother in his ancestry were apparently true, the twins decided.

Elrohir scanned the rest of the royal family. Like the King the others stood out because of the way they carried themselves. Queen Ithilwen was a darkly glowing beauty, a shining moon to her husband’s blazing sun. The younger twin let his cool gaze rake over the three younger Elves at her side. These were obviously the princes of the Woodland Realm. As different from each other as Elladan and I are alike, he thought with amusement.

He spotted Melthoron at once. That one exuded pride and arrogance and an ill-concealed temper. He was fair-haired like his sire though the gold of his locks were of a darker hue but his features were neither Thranduil’s nor Ithilwen’s. Oropher’s then, Elrohir deduced, remembering his mother’s words.

Brethildor was the darkling prince. He had the Queen’s coloring but his face was mostly the King’s. He seemed friendly enough but his somewhat vacuous expression did not promise witty repartee. Here was one who would fare best away from veiled or crafty maneuverings.

Elrohir’s pewter eyes strayed to the last prince. They narrowed with interest as he regarded the youngest son of Thranduil. Here was the one his mother had praised as the most worthy of the King’s sons.

Legolas was slender and indeed almost delicate looking beside his brothers. Silver and gold mingled in his shining locks while finely sculpted features recalled the Queen’s countenance. A good-looking youth with the promise of even greater comeliness when he matured into full adulthood. But what impressed Elrohir most was the depth of thought and feeling visible in the sapphire eyes. Celebrian was right. For an Elf barely past his majority, the youngest prince was possessed not only of intelligence but also of a yearning to learn all that life could offer. But there was also a trace of what Elrond had called high spirits in the cerulean orbs. That could only mean a love of fun and adventure as well.

Elrohir glanced at his brother and saw that Elladan was also regarding the princeling with interest. The older twin felt his brother’s gaze and looked at him. They grinned at each other. They were in one accord regarding Legolas. Life would not be boring around Thranduil’s youngest son, of that they were certain.

The two rulers addressed each other cordially but formally. Despite their former acquaintance, too much had happened in the past for them to be as much at ease as they once had been. But Celebrían and Ithilwen greeted each other with warmth and affection. There were no past issues between the two Elf-ladies to act as a barrier to their friendship now.

Elrond then presented his sons and the other members of his entourage. He had asked his chief counsellors, valiant, sage Glorfindel and gentle, learned Erestor, captain of Rivendell’s forces and his chief steward respectively, to accompany the party. Rounding out the group were a half dozen Imladrin warriors foremost of whom were masterful Daurin and quiet Enedrion.

The twins just managed to suppress their scowls of disgust when they were presented to Melthoron. The Crown Prince was far too haughty and condescending for either to stomach with any grace. Brethildor, on the other hand, presented a challenge of another sort. His first comment dealt with the Rivendell Elves’ weapons, which were of Noldorin make. The twins soon saw they would elicit nothing more interesting from this prince. Elladan choked back a snicker as Elrohir strove not to roll his eyes in exasperation.

But Legolas proved altogether different as the brothers had surmised.

“And this is Legolas, my youngest,” Thranduil informed the twins.

The blue eyes were warm and welcoming if a little startled by the twins’ symmetry. “Suilad, gwenyn o Imladris”—Greetings, twins of Rivendell—he smiled. “I hope you will find Greenwood as enchanting as they say the hidden vale is.”

Two pairs of sable eyebrows rose slightly at the compliment to their home.

“Enchantment is in the eye of the beholder,” Elladan replied. “I dare say we will find your realm as fascinating as ours.”

“To live beneath the eaves of such a great forest is an experience neither of us would willingly forego,” Elrohir added gravely.

Legolas’ smile widened. “As to that, I can promise you much,” he offered. “That is, if you are up to it?”

The challenge, however lightheartedly uttered, was there. The twins suddenly grinned in unison.

“We would be delighted to explore the fastness of Eryn Galen with you, O Prince,” Elladan chuckled.

“And more besides,” Elrohir drawled. “We do have two whole months to indulge ourselves after all.”

Elrond and Thranduil could not help overhearing the exchange. Both lords groaned in concert then stared at each other in surprise. Understanding and shared compassion dawned. The smallest smile touched Thranduil’s otherwise frosty countenance. Elrond considered his wife’s wisdom in insisting their twins come along for the visit. They might yet be the key to friendship between our two realms, he mused with a muted grin.

Just which of the princes had drawn the twins’ liking became blatantly apparent. No sooner were the pleasantries over than Legolas found his mount sandwiched between the brethren’s steeds. Their parents watched them with interest and, admittedly, just a hint of apprehension.

***********

Glossary:

meldir - friend

laer - Sindarin for summer

To be continued…
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Greenleaf & Imladris 1 - Meldir: At First Sight