Grey Mountains 2151 III
Legolas ducked into the healing tent, a relieved smile spreading across his face as he caught sight of his injured friend. Tiriadon sat on a pallet, a pile of rolled bedding supporting his back and a mug of broth in his hand. A clean white bandage where one red-gold braid should have been was the only real sign of the captain's injury, though to the prince's critical eye he remained a bit pale.
"You are looking better," Legolas said cheerfully, dropping to the ground beside his friend.
"As are you, ernilen," Tiriadon teased with a grin. "Though I am surprised to see you sit with nary a groan. You were gone for quite a time."
"I had a nap, if you must know, Tiri," the woodland prince retorted with mock affront, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
The captain laughed outright, his moss green eyes twinkling. "Aye, Legolas, I can see that," he snickered. "'Tis obvious from the redness of your ears, and the bite marks on your neck that you had quite a long nap."
"Oh, Valar," Legolas groaned, one hand going instinctively to his throat. "Is it that bad? Truly?"
"Indeed it is," Tiriadon replied breezily, thoroughly enjoying his friend's discomfiture. "I have seldom seen such glorious bruises, and your ears look nearly raw." Snickering in spite of himself, he added, "Really, híren - such a display. 'Tis appalling. What will your troops think?"
Legolas arched one golden eyebrow, punching his tormentor lightly on the shoulder. "They will think 'twas high time someone beat you senseless, captain," he said with a broad grin. "You are simply jealous."
"As a matter of fact, you did make off with my healer," Tiriadon agreed, a wince of discomfort distorting his smile. "Where have you left your peredhel, Legolas? My head could use another of those vile concoctions to ease the pain."
"I think 'Dan tarried to give us time to talk," the prince answered, all teasing forgotten as he helped his friend lie back on the bedding. "I will find him."
"Hannon chen," Tiriadon said with a sigh, closing his eyes against the throbbing of his wound.
Legolas cast a last worried glance at the injured guard, then left the tent to search for Elladan. He quickly found the elder twin among those tending the fire. "Tiri is in pain, 'Dan," the prince explained, pulling the dark elf along toward the healing tent. "I am afraid he has taxed his strength in joking with me."
Tiriadon opened his eyes as the two elves entered the tent, managing a reassuring smile for Legolas despite his pain. "I am well, híren," he protested as Elladan knelt beside him, checking the wound for bleeding. "I need only a pain draught."
"That is likely, captain, but you will forgive me if I judge for myself," the elder twin said, looking closely at the injured elf's eyes. Satisfied, he stood and moved to the collection of herbs and elixirs that spilled from a worn pack, quickly mixing the needed tonic.
Eyeing the cloudy yellow-green mixture suspiciously, Tiriadon drew a deep breath. "'Tis a different color than before. Do I care to know what is in this one?" he asked in resignation.
"Nay, probably not," Elladan answered with a grin. "'Twould likely only worsen the taste. I added an elixir to help you sleep, and it has changed the color."
The captain wrinkled his nose at the bitter odor, but swallowed the pain draught obediently. Glancing mischievously at Legolas, he turned back to the dark elf with a smile. The prince followed his friend's gaze to the deep purple ovals that graced Elladan's neck. "Tiriadon," he began warningly, "do not..."
The elder twin raised an eyebrow questioningly, looking from one Mirkwood warrior to the other. "Hannon chen," Tiriadon said, his eyes dancing with mirth as they met the confused grey gaze. "And I am glad to see that you had a nap, also, Elladan."
The Borders of Imladris 2151 III
Thranduil breathed deeply, savoring the crisp scent of evergreens and rushing water. Though his party had not yet been challenged, the woodland king knew well that he and his guards had been sighted and judged no threat to the hidden valley.
Even the tired horses seemed refreshed by the cool air, their steps becoming light and eager as the travelers slowly descended the steep path into the vale. The way was winding and narrow, but the elven steeds were surefooted, even over the loose stones that littered the ground. They had been foaled in the gloom of Mirkwood and raised on its treacherous trails, and were thus more than a match for the natural defenses of Imladris.
Confident in his mount's abilities, Thranduil let his mind wander freely over the events of the past months. The disclosure of Legolas' involvement with Elrond's sons. Elrohir's near-fatal encounter with a spider, and the resulting arrival of Elrond and Glorfindel. His renewed relationship with Glorfindel, and by extension, Erestor. The surprising and gratifying changes time and trial had wrought in Anteruon.
The departure of Legolas and the Peredhil twins with the raiding party, their quickly reported successes followed by lengthy silences as they presumably moved further and further from the Halls. According to the most recent missive, they had turned toward the Grey Mountains, following the last of the ruffian bands.
The light-hearted farewells as he had ridden away from the Halls with Elrond and Glorfindel, headed for Imladris, anxious and excited as an elfling on his first venture into the world. The early spring day had seemed full of promise.
A grimace crossed the king's fair face as his thoughts turned to Barangolas, an unwelcome image of the youngest prince, covered in blood and deathly still rising in his mind. Black blood and red, dry and horribly fresh . . . blood running like a stream from the deep gash in his son's side.
Thank the Valar that the messenger had reached him before the party left the canopy of Mirkwood, and that Elrond had turned back as well, bringing his legendary healing skills to the aid of the fallen woodland prince.
Five months had passed since Elrond and Glorfindel left for Imladris, the Balrog-slayer agreeing to go only after Thranduil promised to journey to Imladris ere summer faded. Barangolas was fully recovered, a faint silvery scar the lone reminder of the blow that nearly ended his life- and even that would fade with time. Both the court and the forest were without disturbance for once, and Anteruon had proven himself well able to rule in his father's absence in the weeks following the youngest prince's wounding.
Still deep in thought, Thranduil was nearly unseated when his mount stopped short, neighing as though in welcome.
"And a very good day to you, also, Dagorfaen," an amused voice said, the sentiment seemingly echoed by a fierce snort from the speaker's snowy white steed.
Thranduil raised his head slowly, a smile spreading across his face as he looked into sparkling blue eyes. Glorfindel sat astride Asfaloth, his golden hair secured in side braids, the silken strands gleaming against the cool blues and greys that were the badge of the Imladris warrior.
So intent in the regard of his lover was Thranduil that he failed to extend the expected formal greeting. When the silence lengthened past bearing, one of the Mirkwood warriors cleared his throat nervously. Still holding the seneschal's sapphire gaze, the woodland king extended his arm in a traditional greeting and said softly, "Mae govannen, mellonen. We are expected, I believe."
Glorfindel gripped the offered forearm, breaking into a dazzling grin. "Mae govannen, Thranduil. Welcome to Imladris."
Name: Dagorfaen - 'battle spirit' (Thranduil's horse)
Elvish Translations:
ernilen - my prince
híren - my lord
Hannon chen - Thank you
Mae govannen - well met
mellonen - my friend
Imladris 2151 III
Silence fell over the chamber once again, broken only by the muted clatter of cutlery and the ringing clink of glass against the wooden table. A distinct air of tension began to build in the room, causing it to feel confining despite the dappled light of late afternoon and the scented breeze that wafted through the open arches.
Erestor repressed a sigh and searched for a topic of conversation that would not increase his guest's obvious unease. Having exhausted both the current state of affairs in the woodland realm and the details of the king's journey, the advisor detoured into what he hoped was a nonthreatening subject. "You expect Legolas and the gwanûn to return soon, then mellonen?
"Aye, Thranduil replied, struggling to overcome his lingering nervousness. The unusual feeling of uncertainty both surprised and annoyed him. By the Valar, he was no blushing innocent, trembling under the gaze of his mentor! And he had been acquainted with Erestor for millennia. Drawing a calming breath, he continued, "They were headed for Ered Mithrin at last word, and planned to return to Taur-na-Fuin as soon as their task there was completed.
Erestor nodded. There was no need to elaborate on the nature of the task, and words of reassurance were pointless. Legolas was a warrior, as were the gwanûn. They would engage the brigands, and the elven party would triumph, or they would fail. They would return, or they would die. Dwelling on the risks of battle was worse than useless- that way lay madness.
Taking a sip of his wine, the dark elf eyed his companion curiously. "Forgive my boldness, Thranduil, he began, "but you approve? You accept Elladan and Elrohir, and their relationship with the prince?
The woodland king was silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "I accept it because Legolas is happy, he said slowly. "I cannot, in honesty, say that I understand. Meeting Erestor's eyes, Thranduil added, "I have some basic knowledge of the twin-bond, but the details were only rumor to me.
"And you are not disturbed? the advisor asked bluntly, holding the king's emerald gaze.
The golden elf bit his lip. "I do not know, he answered frankly. "The gwanûn have spared me the necessity of deciding while in Taur-na-Fuin. Pausing to refill his wineglass, the king continued, "I have long been fond of both Elladan and Elrohir. And I do not judge their actions, for their situation is not mine. But I would not choose to see them act as lovers do.
One ebony eyebrow arched as Erestor queried, "Did Elladan disturb you, then, after his brother's injury? Surely he was less than reserved in his attentions to Elrohir at that time.
"I thought little of it, Thranduil admitted. "There was much at stake, and my attention was given more to succoring them 'til Elrond arrived than to finding fault.
"Glorfindel said 'twas your support that held Elladan together, and thus sustained Elrohir, Erestor offered, frowning as a faint flush stole over the king's face. Surely Elrond had expressed his gratitude before, so why was . . . then suddenly the dark elf understood. The flush was not one of modesty due to praise, but one of discomfort at the mention of Glorfindel's name.
Hesitating a moment, the advisor placed a friendly hand on his companion's arm. "Do you not think 'twould be best to talk about it, mellonen? he asked gently. "I would not have us spend your visit verbally dancing around the issue.
His color deepening, Thranduil covered his friend's hand briefly with his own before rising from the table. "I do not know what to say, he sighed. "I feel as though I have wronged you.
"Because you bedded my lover, Erestor replied, his words a statement rather than a question.
"Your bonded mate, the king corrected. "I begin to fear 'twas a mistake.
"Would it help to know 'twas my idea that Glorfindel approach you? the advisor returned, forcing back a smile as Thranduil's eyes widened.
"Your idea? the woodland king managed, nearly speechless with shock.
"Aye, Erestor replied composedly. "We have long wondered if you would be averse to joining with us. Glorfindel was loath to approach you without me for this very reason, but I urged him to seek you out if the opportunity presented itself.
"But why, mellonen? the woodland king asked, running one hand over his face.
The smile that curled the dark elf's lips was now obvious. "Surely you know that you are very fair, híren.
"So is Glorfindel, Thranduil pointed out wryly. "So are you.
"You are bereft of your mate, and we know what it is to lose a lover, Erestor explained earnestly. " We thought to offer you comfort, mellonen, beyond that which a casual tumble can provide. Raising a hand to forestall the king's next protest, he added, "Our motives are not all noble, however. I would guess that you have no experience with two ellyn?
"Nay, I have not, the woodland ruler agreed, feeling curiously apologetic as he met the glowing indigo gaze.
"'Tis no matter, the advisor said reassuringly, "and I would wager you will well understand our desire to share our bond with you. A decidedly wicked grin spread over Erestor's face. "In the morning.
Grey Mountains 2151 III
Legolas dropped a broken arrow, the traditional sign of a valorous death in battle, on the cairn that covered the fallen warrior's body. Raising his head, he stared unseeing over the plains that extended from the base of the mountains toward the forest. Toward home- a home to which Berioron would not return.
The Mirkwood troops had said their farewells, and now turned their attention to packing for the next morning's journey. The bonfire which had consumed the brigand's remains was smothered, and only the watch fires broke the rapidly deepening shadows. Elrohir moved among the horses- checking wounds, applying salves, wrapping legs- soothing the tired and skittish mounts with his quiet presence.
Elladan sorted herbs and bandage rolls, stowing them in expectation of having the tent struck before the party retired. Hearing a quiet exchange outside, he stepped to the open flap in time to see three of the Mirkwood patrol leaving. Tiriadon stood at the tent entrance, showing little sign of the injury that could easily have threatened his life but two days past.
"I am nearly finished, Tiri, the elder twin offered quickly. "They may strike the tent now. I would not hold up our departure.
The Mirkwood captain shook his head slightly, his one remaining braid swinging. "I instructed them to leave it 'til the morn. In answer to the arch of an ebony eyebrow, Tiriadon nodded at the lone figure still standing over the rocky grave. "Legolas has had time enough alone with Berioron, the warrior said quietly. "He will need you tonight, Elladan, if only for comfort. I would give him what little shelter there is from prying eyes.
"And what of you, captain? the dark elf asked curiously. "Have you no need of comfort?
Tiriadon grinned broadly, his moss-green eyes twinkling. "Is that an invitation, peredhel? he asked with a snicker. "Legolas would think little of it, I deem.
Elladan returned the grin. "Little, indeed. Though I understand my virtue is safe with you, at any cost.
"It is, Tiri admitted cheerfully, "but I would not care to test my resolve in that particular way, if 'tis all the same to you. Becoming serious, he sighed. "Smlolwen awaits my return. I will shed my tears on her shoulder, as always.
"She is a lucky elleth, mellonen, the elder twin said, gripping his companion's arm firmly.
"I would disagree, the captain contradicted with a smile, clapping Elladan on the shoulder. "I am the one blessed. Looking toward the cairn, he drew a deep breath. "Go to him, híren. I will find Elrohir.
Elladan frowned in concern as he approached the grave site. Legolas seemed unaware of his lover's presence, his clouded gaze still focused on the distant edge of Mirkwood. As he reached the cairn, however, the prince began to speak, his back still to the elder twin.
"'Tis funny, really. I know Berioron is gone to the Halls of Waiting, that there is naught left here but a broken shell. Yet I am reluctant to leave him alone and return to the forest. After a moment he continued, "It seems that there should be more, 'Dan. More to mark the end of an immortal life than a broken arrow and a pile of stone.
The elder twin moved close behind Legolas, and began rubbing the tense shoulders soothingly. "I know, anor nín, he sighed. "It seems there should be some marker, some ritual that could fill the void. But there is only time.
Turning in Elladan's arms, the prince snuggled tight, burying his face in the hollow of his lover's throat. The dark elf pressed a chaste kiss to Legolas' forehead, his fingers twining idly in the golden braids that brushed his cheek.
"Come back to the fires, 'Las, the elder twin urged after a space of time. "Tiri has left us the tent for the night, and 'Roh will be waiting. I will fix you a sleeping draught if you like.
"I do not wish to go back yet, Legolas retorted, his voice muffled against his companion's skin. "And I want no sleeping draught.
"'Tis time, anor nín, Elladan began. "We should . . .
The thought was never completed. The dark elf found himself caught in a plundering kiss, an almost violent assault born of the sorrow and anger that burdened his lover. Struggling to remain calm, Elladan offered no resistence to the tongue that thrust aggressively into his mouth, nor to the hands that twisted his hair roughly, pulling his head back to expose his throat to sharp teeth and bruising lips.
When the hands moved to tug impatiently at his tunic, however, he grasped them firmly, meeting the prince's wild emerald gaze. "Nay, 'Las, he said, softening his words with a kiss to each trembling hand. "Not here, melethen. Not like this.
"Why not? Legolas purred darkly, pressing tightly against his lover. "'Tis said that the rhevain couple on the graves of their kin, to appease the spirits.
Elladan bit back a groan as his ear was engulfed by a hot mouth, his stomach tightening as the silky voice dropped lower. "Do not fret, el nín, the prince breathed, his tongue flicking teasingly across his lover's ear. "I would not ask you to yield. I wish to ride you, melethron, until I no longer have strength to move.
Lost in a haze of real and promised pleasure, the elder twin was jerked from his stupor by a savage tug at the lacing that secured his leggings. Suddenly aware once more of the cairn at his feet- and the curious onlookers- the dark elf caught his predatory companion by the shoulders, shaking him sharply. "Legolas! he hissed quietly. "We are not rhevain, ernilen. And we are providing an evening's entertainment for your troops.
Meeting Elladan's concerned grey gaze, the woodland prince seemed to become fully aware of his surroundings for the first time. A look of abject guilt crossed his face as he took in his lover's bruised mouth and ravaged throat. "Valar, 'Dan, I am sorry, he groaned, reaching up to touch the abused skin. "I do not know what possessed me . . . but I want you so . . . .
"Never mind, the elder twin whispered soothingly, casting a warning glance at the observers. "You are exhausted, anor nín. You need to rest.
Slipping an arm around his lover's waist, Elladan urged him toward the healing tent. As they made their way past the watch fires, the elder twin tightened his arm slightly. "'Las?
Legolas turned his head toward his companion, and glittering gazes met... midnight-dark and emerald green. "Aye?
"Mayhap we should appease the spirits in the tent, hmm?
Names:
Berioron - protector
Smlolwen - shining maiden
Elvish Translations:
mellonen - my friend
gwanûn - twins
Ered Mithrin - Grey Mountains
Taur-na-Fuin - Mirkwood (wood of nightshade)
híren - my lord
ellyn - male elves
elleth - female elf
melethen - my love
anor nín - my sun
rhevain - wild men
el nín - my star
melethron - lover (male)
ernilen - my prince
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