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Greenleaf & Imladris 30 - Finale: Just Reward	By : MPB Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 4742 -:- 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.

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Title: Greenleaf & Imladris 30 – Finale: Just Reward

Author: Eressë (eresse21@yahoo.com)

Pairing: Elrohir/Legolas

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Be careful of what you wish for. In Valinor, you’re likely to get it.

Disclaimer: I write for my own enjoyment. All else belongs to that wonderful wizard of storytelling, JRR Tolkien.

Author’s Notes: Warnings and salutations to all.

First of all, this story features Mpreg. It is a tongue-in-cheek, take-it-or-leave-it tale written on a whim and solely for the fun of it. If Mpreg isn’t your cup of tea you can treat the previous story as the last in the series. But I hope you’ll give this one a look-see and read it in the same spirit as it was written.

Second, I’ll be posting other stories I’ve got stashed away under the anthology title “Twilight Tales.” A few are related to the Greenleaf & Imladris stories.

Last but emphatically not least, to everyone who followed the series and buttressed my sometimes timorous spirit with their kind words, unfailing encouragement and thought provoking reviews, my heartfelt gratitude and warmest regards. I had a wonderful time!

Finale: Just Reward

First Act: Staggered Mates

Artirion, Sulimë FA 235

“Legolas, you are eating like – pardon the expression – a hobbit,” Elrohir admonished even as he darted an apologetic look at the three Halflings present. “Should you not desist a little?”

Legolas glared at him and swallowed his mouthful of food with as much grace as was possible given that he wanted to make a reply in a hurry. “I cannot help it if I am hungry,” he said. “Besides, what is wrong with a healthy appetite?”

“Nothing except that you have never been so voracious in all the time I have known you as you have been this past month.”

“So I have turned into a glutton for now. I see nothing wrong with an occasional indulgence.”

Elrohir shook his head. “But last month you would hardly eat anything. Now you are eating as if there is no tomorrow. Ada”—Papa—“do you not think there is something that ails him?”

Elrond smiled at his younger son’s plea. It was not unusual for Elrohir to be so protective of Legolas. The prince had come through much anguish in the preceding years before Elrohir’s reborn spirit had manifested itself in full.

“Perhaps I should examine you, Legolas,” the master healer suggested. “Elrohir’s concern is valid. Going from no appetite to too much is unusual.”

“But I am not ill!” Legolas protested. “Surely nobody falls ill in the Blessed Realm.”

“I did not say you are ill. But if it will put Elrohir’s mind at ease, a brief examination will do no harm,” Elrond reasoned. “You may finish your meal before I proceed, of course,” he hastened to add at the mutinous light in the other Elf’s eyes.

Elrond heard a pair of resigned sighs at his side and forbore to grin. Thranduil and Ithilwen knew their youngest son’s independent spirit all too well but it did not mean they had ever gotten used to it. He cast his eyes upon his own two sons and mused that he was in no position to be smug with Taur Galen’s king and queen.

Thank the Powers that Elladan had chosen such a sweet and biddable Elf maid as Nimeithel for his wife. Then again, Elrond considered ruefully, there had been a time the only daughter of Greenwood’s king had shown herself capable of being as spirited and mule-headed as her brother, husband and law-brother. It seemed he and Thranduil were doomed to share the common fate of fathers blessed with such fiercely stubborn children.

They were gathered in Elrond and Celebrían’s home to honor the New Year as celebrated in the reckoning of the kingdom of Gondor. Though long separated from the Hither Lands, they never failed to commemorate the events that had freed Middle-earth from its last great peril, events in which they had labored long and hard.

The gathering was intimate as usual with only the immediate families and close friends of Elrond and Thranduil present and a few special guests – one Dwarf, three hobbits and an erstwhile wizard. Galadriel and Celeborn had sent their regrets that they would not be able to join the group this evening.

The Dwarf had not changed in his taste for fine wine and the hobbits in their fondness for good food. It was to this latter trait that Elrohir had compared Legolas’ unusually hearty appetite.

After the meal, Elrond rose and gestured to Legolas to come with him. “Come, I will be quick about it,” he soothed as the archer pursed his mouth in reluctance.

He led the younger Elf to a couch where he could recline and Elrond could examine him easily. Thranduil and Ithilwen retired to a nearby bench with Celebrían while Elrohir sat himself on the edge of the couch. Gimli, Bilbo, Frodo, and Samwise continued to chat with Elladan, Nimeithel and Glorfindel while they awaited the results and Elladan’s twin sons, Elros and Elendir, watched a well-contested game of Strategy between Erestor and Lindir.

A few minutes later, Elrond straightened and turned around. His expression was so peculiar, so unlike the dignified Lord of Artirion, that chatter soon died down and everyone began to look at him with expectation.

“Elrond, what is it?” Thranduil anxiously asked. “Is there something wrong with Legolas?” He glanced at his son who had risen to a sitting position and was now looking at Elrond warily.

Elrond started as if he had been suddenly roused from a dream. “Wrong?” he muttered. “Well, nay. That is it should not be except that…” he trailed off and glanced back at Legolas, his expression becoming even more incredulous than ever. “Gandalf…” he faintly said.

“Yes, what is it?” the wizard asked curiously.

“Ada, what is wrong?” Elrohir exclaimed.

The Istar came forward and shook Elrond’s shoulder. “Elrond, I have never seen you so at a loss for words,” he remarked. “Tell us now, what ails Legolas?”

“What? Oh, of course.” Elrond blinked and faced Legolas and Elrohir. He was seen to inhale deeply before speaking.

“Legolas, I have the – er – pleasure to inform you that you are – er,” Elrond hesitated then continued even more faintly than before, “—with child.”

Silence descended upon the hall. Legolas and Elrohir stared at the healer with wide eyes and open mouths. Indeed, it was the common expression on every face present though the Halflings probably had the biggest eyes and Gimli the most gaping mouth of all.

Legolas sucked his breath in sharply. “I – am – with – what?” he said very slowly.

Elrond swallowed hard. “With – er – child,” he repeated.

He winced as he heard the collapse of bodies behind him. A quick glance showed him the hobbits fainting one by one and falling in a heap on top of the Dwarf who had been the first to go. Elladan and Glorfindel caught a swooning Nimeithel, both Elves looking rather pasty at the moment as well. Further back, the Strategy board was upended as Erestor and Lindir lurched in shock to their feet and the twins stared with open-mouthed incredulity at their uncles. Elrond heard a moan and saw that Thranduil was now holding his newly unconscious wife whom Celebrian was vigorously fanning. Both Thranduil and Celebrían had lost a fair amount of color he absently noted.

“With child, eh?” Gandalf muttered distractedly beside him. “Very – interesting.” The wizard did not look too spry himself.

“Interesting?” Legolas gasped. “Interesting?!” He began to breathe deeply and rapidly. Elrohir hastily rubbed his back in an effort to calm him down. “How can I be with child?” Legolas demanded, glaring at Elrond. “I am no female Elf! There must be a mistake!”

Elrond glared back at him. “I do not make mistakes in these matters, Thranduilion!” he said frigidly, the attack on his learning and skills snapping him out of his daze. “You are two months with child!”

Legolas shuddered with shock and fell back into Elrohir’s supportive embrace. “How can this be?” he whispered in agitation. “‘Tis not possible.”

He suddenly stiffened and drew away from the raven-haired Elf. When he narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Elrohir, the latter felt unaccountably nervous.

“Elrohir, while you waited in the Halls of Mandos, did you by any chance pray for something else besides being released soonest?” he asked in an ominously soft voice.

Elrohir stiffened, started to object then stopped and blanched. “Elbereth! I did not think it would be granted,” he choked.

The still conscious members of the gathering stared at him. Legolas pinned him with an icy blue gaze. “What would be granted?” he pressed.

Elrohir gulped. “Námo asked me if there was anything I desired before he released me. I-I remember saying that I wished you and I could have children of our own.” He gasped and grabbed Legolas by the wrist when the other looked about to punch him. “Legolas, I swear I never expected that the Valar would actually grant me such a wish! I mean, would you?”

Legolas growled, “And did you also wish that I be the one to carry the child?”

Elrohir protested: “Why would I wish that when I never expected anything to be granted? Be reasonable, Calenlass.”

“Reasonable?!” The golden-haired archer looked to be on the verge of a hysterical outburst. “You want me to be reasonable?! Elrohir, I am going to have a child! I, an ellon!”—male Elf! “I would like to know what is reasonable about my condition! Indeed, I would like to know how I’m supposed to deal with this insane situation!”

Elrohir opened his mouth to retort then shut it once more and stared at the other Elf. Around them those who had swooned were beginning to regain their wits. Legolas was taken aback by the sudden change in Elrohir’s eyes. Shock and disbelief had transformed into joy and awe.

“For a start, you could be happy that you are going to have a child,” he said softly. “Our child.”

Legolas gaped at him. He felt a hand on his shoulder and he looked up into Gandalf’s compassionate eyes. “Elrohir is right,” he smiled. “If the Valar chose to bless you both with a babe in this manner, who are we to question their will?”

Legolas let his breath out. He looked around him and saw that everyone was watching him. From the fascinated if still shocked expressions of the hobbits and Gimli’s vain attempts to appear composed after having fainted in so un-Dwarvish a manner to the amazement and awe of Elrohir’s family and Glorfindel, Erestor and Lindir and the obvious struggle between disbelief and anticipation of his own parents and sister, there could be no mistaking that they all shared one emotion. Joy.

He glanced at Elrohir who was still looking at him with aching tenderness. He finally managed a small smile. “I will need Naneth’s and Nimeithel’s help,” he said after drawing another deep breath. “I have no idea what to do...” he looked at Ithilwen helplessly.

The good lady had collected her wits about her and rose to go to her son. She took his hand and said, “Of course, we will help you, mellind”—dear heart—she soothed him. “Indeed, though we were naturally shocked, now that we have recovered from the surprise, I must say that your father and I are looking forward to having a grandchild by you. Do you not agree, my husband?”

Thranduil managed to strangle a groan and could only nod his head weakly. Elrond had to grin then. “Ai, Thranduil. Is it not wonderful that you and I shall have yet another grandchild in common? Imagine a little Elf with my Elrohir’s stubbornness and your Legolas’ independent spirit. A fascinating combination, is it not?”

Thranduil did not stifle his groan this time nor did he spare Elrond a murderous glare to the amusement of all.

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

Glossary:

Sulimë - Quenya for March

Calenlass - Greenleaf (Elrohir’s pet name for Legolas)

Naneth - Mother

To be continued…
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Greenleaf & Imladris 30 - Finale: Just Reward