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Greenleaf & Imladris 7 - Forbidden Fruit	By : MPB Category: -Multi-Age > General Views: 3381 -:- 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 7 - Forbidden Fruit

Author: Eressë (eresse21@yahoo.com)

Pairing: Elrohir/Legolas (eventually)

Rating: PG13

Summary: An old friend of Legolas' develops a forbidden passion and in the process triggers confusion, heartbreak and tragedy.

Disclaimer: All the Elves belong to that old wizard, Tolkien.

Author’s Note: If Sirgon seems familiar, it’s because he appeared in Meldir: At First Sight as one of Legolas’ childhood friends.

Forbidden Fruit

Mirkwood, ethuil TA 1300 - laer TA 1305

Part I

Sirgon looked about him with nostalgia and curiosity. It had been centuries since he’d last set foot in the Woodland Realm, a millennium since he’d beheld the halls of Thranduil. Yet it was like coming home. He had never truly forgotten Greenwood the Great.

His father, Beldoron, had been a trusted counsellor and good friend of the king and his sire before him in that time past. He’d been one of a handful of Wood-elves who had travelled to the realm of Lothlórien shortly before the Last Alliance of Elves and Men was formed, bearing assurances of aid from Oropher and Thranduil to their kinsman, Celeborn. For though Thranduil’s father, Oropher, had vowed never to have anything to do with any of the Noldor, Celeborn’s wife, Galadriel, included, his son had been wise and prudent enough not to completely severe ties with his cousin. Dark times necessitated putting aside rancor and presenting a united front to Middle-earth’s latest bane and Thranduil had acted accordingly. Eventually, Oropher had come to agree that the alliance was necessary though, with predictable pride, he refused to let their forces march under Gil-galad’s banner. Later events proved Thranduil’s caution correct but, unfortunately, also aggravated the prevailing distrust he had always harbored towards the Noldor.

But all that was still in the future when Beldoron made that sojourn to the Golden Wood. It was during this visit that he had met his wife, a Silvan Elf woman in the service of Galadriel. Beldoron had fallen in love with her and, years later, having survived Oropher’s impulsive, ill-fated charge in Mordor, he returned to Lórien, secured her hand in marriage and brought her back to Eryn Galen. She had eventually borne him a son and for several years lived with her husband contentedly enough under the eaves of Greenwood.

But little more than a decade after the alliance between Eryn Galen and Rivendell had been forged, the long dormant yearning of Sirgon’s mother for the Golden Wood reawakened. She became listless, almost ill, a thing unheard of among the Firstborn. Realizing the cause and extent of her distress, Beldoron had sought his king’s permission and removed his family to Lothlórien.

That had been a great shock to Sirgon who had only been in his seventh decade of life. Though lawfully in his majority, he was still young and sheltered by any standard; an Elfling in all but age. Lothlórien was altogether different from Eryn Galen, at once less vast yet more remote. It was with a heavy heart that he’d followed his parents south, leaving behind all that he had known. Old friends, familiar haunts, but most of all...Legolas.

He had virtually grown up at court because of his father’s position. That had thrown him into close proximity with Thranduil’s children, particularly his youngest son to whom he was closest in age. In the way of all children, whether Elf, Man or other Free Folk, they became playmates and later good friends. Two others only did Legolas later account closer to himself than Sirgon.

These were the twin sons of Elrond of Rivendell, Elladan and Elrohir. Ever did the brothers have a close bond with the youngest prince of the Woodland Realm since their first acquaintance, much to the despair of their respective families. For the three together were a formidable combination at thinking up mischief and wreaking mayhem. Sirgon had only been peripherally involved in their adventures, his father maintaining that he would not offend his king by having his son add to the already hair-raising situations the prince and his friends habitually got themselves into.

Sirgon’s family had departed for Lothlórien several years after that momentous first meeting between Thranduil’s children and Elrond’s twins. By then a steadfast friendship had already been established between the youngest prince and the brethren, a friendship that had put to rest any residual rancor and distrust between Eryn Galen’s Sindarin king and Rivendell’s Eldarin lord whose Noldorin connections had been at the heart of the original unease between the two realms.

Sirgon had encountered the brothers here and then during his days in Lothlórien when they would come to visit their mother’s parents, the Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel. But he’d never again seen Legolas for none of the royal family of the Woodland Realm had ever ventured there.

He heard tales of the comings and goings between Eryn Galen and Imladris. Had often wished he could be a continuing part of that story. But it was not until late that he’d gotten his wish and that had come of a tragedy.

His mother had accompanied Celeborn’s daughter, Celebrían, who was Lord Elrond’s wife, to Rivendell after one of the lady’s visits to her parents’ realm. On the way back, the party of Lórien Elves had been ambushed by orcs. There had been one casualty. Sirgon’s mother. With nothing to hold him to Lothlórien any longer, Beldoron had decided to return to the north with his son.

Now Sirgon was back where it all started. Where he had grown up and known happiness. Lothlórien was beautiful and enchanting but he was a simple Greenwood Elf at heart. Living in such rarified environs had not been to his taste and he’d never felt himself a Lórien Elf, not even after so many centuries of life there.

He looked to where his father sat with the King, the two exchanging pleasantries and news. The great hall was relatively empty at this time of day and Sirgon stayed quietly by himself near the entrance. He wondered where Legolas was and what he was doing. And he wondered if his old friend would still remember him.

“Sirgon!”

The voice that uttered his name was unfamiliar and Sirgon turned to see who had addressed him. His mouth dropped open at the vision that greeted him.

He’d never seen a more comely Elf, not even in Lothlórien. Though dressed in the simple green and brown of a Mirkwood Elf and obviously lately come from the hunt, the Edhel carried himself with a regal grace reminiscent of Thranduil himself. His pale gold hair, braided in the style of the northern Wood-elves, hung below his shoulders. Dark blue eyes glittered warmly and the finely wrought lips were curved into a small smile.

“What? Do you not know me?” the fair-haired Elf remarked with an amused glint in his eyes. “Your memory has grown feeble, Sirgon.”

Sirgon gasped in sudden recognition and rose to his feet. “Legolas?” he managed to utter. He could not believe his eyes. When he’d left, the prince had just lately come to his majority, fair as the Elves are, but to Sirgon’s own boyish eyes, nothing extraordinary. One could not say the same of the Elven prince who now stood before him.

When did he grow to be so beautiful? Sirgon thought in wonder. He had no more time to think when Legolas stepped forward and pulled him into a welcoming embrace. His own arms automatically enclosing the prince, Sirgon suddenly felt shaken. Even this brief contact was disturbing, he did not know why.

The prince stepped back with a grin. “How are you, old friend?” he asked.

“Well enough, hîr nîn,” Sirgon answered, suddenly remembering his manners. “But I have missed the green wood greatly.”

“My lord?” Legolas raised one golden eyebrow. “Since when have you become so formal with me? It was ever Legolas when we were growing up as I recall.”

Sirgon blushed. “I was not certain of my standing with you after all this time,” he replied honestly.

Legolas shook his head. “Old friends can dispense with formalities. Come, tell me what you will about Lothlórien.”

He took the brown-haired Elf by the arm and led him to his chamber. There they passed several hours reminiscing about days gone by and exchanging stories of the years they had spent apart.

*******

Sirgon easily slipped back into his former life. In some ways it was almost as if he had never left for he’d never forgotten the ways and wiles of a Wood-elf. After all, Lothlórien, too, was a woodland realm. But in other ways, he knew there had been changes. There were events in Greenwood that he knew little or nothing about. Things that had come to pass while he had lived in the Golden Wood.

Evil had marred the great forest. Darkness had come upon the once beloved woods with the rise of Dol Guldur in its southwestern reach. The great spiders were rapidly proliferating, orcs frequently came to the very borders of the forest itself and men of ill repute had become so bold as to dare the Wood-elves’ wrath and arrows as they sought the reputed wealth of the Elvenking. Just such an incident had claimed the life of Legolas’ mother nearly three hundred years ago.

Sirgon had left Eryn Galen, Greenwood the Great, and returned to Taur e-Ndaedelos, Forest of Great Fear, known in the Common Tongue as Mirkwood. Consequently, there were times when he felt left out, especially when those around him spoke of incidents or issues largely foreign to him.

Loneliness might have claimed him on these occasions if not for Legolas. Neither Melthoron nor Brethildor had the inclination to spend much time with him and Nimeithel naturally preferred the company of her maiden friends. And his old playmates, Heledir and Mithrael, were now tied to their own families and responsibilities and could not be with him as often as of old. But the youngest prince slowly drew him into the mainstream of Mirkwood court life. He was frequently there to keep him company, always including him in hunting trips, scouting expeditions and pleasure rides through the forest. It seemed that seldom a day passed that Sirgon did not spend at his friend’s side. He had never been so contented or happy in his whole life.

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

Glossary:

ethuil and laer – Sindarin for spring and summer

To be continued…
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Greenleaf & Imladris 7 - Forbidden Fruit