Chapter 15
“What is amiss, 'Dan?" Legolas asked quietly, lowering himself to sit beside his lover on the dimly lit balcony.
Elladan glanced at the prince, then returned to his perusal of the darkened wood. “Why must anything be amiss?" he countered lightly, his legs swinging idly over the platform’s edge.
“Because you are flirting with a three-level plunge to the forest floor, and hoping - in vain, I might add - that I will go away and leave you to your brooding,” Legolas retorted, smiling wryly. “And neither of those things is normal behavior for you, ‘Dan. I am the one who runs to the balcony for solace.”
“I am only tired, ‘Las,” Elladan sighed, passing a hand impatiently over his eyes.
Legolas studied Elladan closely before speaking. “Tired you may be, but you are as tightly strung as any champion’s bow. Come inside, and have a drink and a hot soak.”
Elladan shook his head slightly. “Nay, not just now. I would sit under the stars for a while longer.”
Legolas took hold of the single blue-dotted ebony braid that trailed down his lover’s back, twisting the silken plait around his hand. “Please, el nín,” he said softly, a note of pleading in his voice, “tell me what troubles you so.”
Turning his silvery gaze on the prince, Elladan remained silent for a long moment. When he spoke, his words took the prince by surprise. “Do you trust me, ‘Las?”
“Aye, of course I do,” Legolas replied immediately. “With my life. You know that, ‘Dan.”
“Then let it be, please?" Elladan said, softening his words with a quick embrace. "It is nothing that concerns you directly, anor nín.”
“You concern me,” Legolas contradicted firmly, “and I...”
“Leave it, ‘Las,” Elrohir broke in gently, dropping to the floor beside his twin. “He is in a mood, nothing more.”
Legolas looked at the elf-knight skeptically. “It is more than a passing mood, I wager. You talk to him, 'Roh. I seem to be of little use this night.”
As he finished speaking, Legolas moved to rise, only to find his wrist gripped tightly. Turning to Elladan questioningly, he found himself pinned by a somber gaze. Elladan loosed his grip and threaded his fingers through Legolas' unbraided hair, pulling his lover into a soft, nearly chaste kiss, breathtaking in its sweetness. “Do not say such a thing,” he chided. “I love you. Always.”
Legolas pulled back, his eyes welling with unexpected tears at the tenderness of the gesture. “I know,” he whispered. “And I love you, el nín. Always.” Rising gracefully, he added, “I will leave you to ‘Roh, nonetheless. Perhaps he can ease your mind.”
The twins sat silently until the door had closed behind Legolas. Lying back, Elrohir stared up at the stars, waiting. When his brother did not speak, he sighed. “Do you wish to unburden yourself, tôren?”
“I do not know how to proceed, rohir nín,” Elladan answered soberly, stretching out beside Elrohir. “I would not cause pain where it can be avoided.” Sighing deeply, he continued, “And I would not lose what we have gained since your injury...”
Elrohir rolled suddenly, laying a hand on his twin’s shoulder. “Surely you are not thinking of bedding Legolas’ brother, ‘Dan.”
When Elladan did not answer at once, Elrohir leaned over further, looking down into his twin's face. The eyes that met his were clouded, and to his horror he found himself consciously barred from his brother’s thoughts. “Elladan?" he demanded hoarsely. “Answer me!”
The elder twin stared silently for a long moment, seeing the growing unease in Elrohir’s face. “I do not know...” he began hesitantly.
Elrohir could no longer contain himself. “Sweet Eru," he exploded, "you do not know? Are you insane? Legolas will cut your throat, and Anteruon’s, besides! How can you even ponder such a betrayal?“ When his tirade received no reply, he added roughly, “Say something, tôren.”
Reaching up to tuck one mithril-sparked braid behind his twin’s ear, Elladan broke into a grin. “Do not be an ass, ‘Roh.” His smile fading, he added, “I do not know exactly how to dissuade Anteruon without damaging this fragile peace we have built.”
Elrohir, his eyes wide in exasperation, said, “By rights I should beat you senseless, ‘Dan. To the Last Desert with you and your diplomacy! There is no need to tell him anything. If he approaches you openly, rebuff him. Otherwise, ignore it...we will be leaving in a few days.”
“Aye, but we will presumably return someday, rohir nín,” Elladan pointed out soberly. “I would not leave our relationship with the crown prince of Mirkwood in ruins behind us. Ada is determined to bring him to Imladris for instruction in the healing arts, as well.” Shaking his head slowly, he continued, “This would be better addressed now than later, I think.”
“And what exactly will you say?" the elf-knight challenged in disbelief. “It has come to my attention that you wish to bed me? You flatter me, but I am quite satisfied with your little brother?”
“I do not know what I will say, Elrohir,“ Elladan retorted with a grimace. “Such is the cause of my foul mood. It would already be done, if I but knew what words to use.”
“I daresay ‘Las would have little trouble finding words for him,” Elrohir said darkly. “Words, among other, more painful things.”
“Aye, and that is the other reason I would speak frankly with Anteruon,” Elladan agreed grimly. “I would not be responsible for the consequences should Legolas notice anything untoward. He is not entirely reliable where the crown prince is concerned.”
Elrohir snorted rudely. “Aye, that is a polite way of putting it, I suppose.” Breaking into a grin, he added, “I, on the other hand, am completely reliable where you are concerned, tôren. I have but one aim.”
“Which is?" Elladan asked, one eyebrow archinig in amusement.
“Loving you into a whimpering, boneless puddle,” Elrohir answered, lowering his head to rub his brother’s pale cheek with his own, “as often as possible.”
Turning his head into the caress, Elladan brushed a fleeting kiss across Elrohir’s lips. A smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, he asked, “Here, or inside?”
*****************
Legolas strolled the nearly deserted courtyard idly. Determined to give Elladan space and time to discuss whatever discomfited him, the prince had left his chambers to avoid overhearing a conversation not meant for his ears. There were times, he felt, when even the eerily linked twins needed to talk, rather than mindspeak...and he deemed this night to be one of those times. “It is likely the same benefit as talking to myself,” he mused aloud. “The words, no matter how they stumble, help arrange the thoughts.”
“I agree completely, Legolas,” a laughing voice sounded. “Though there are those who might think it strange that you speak aloud to the fountains and the trees.”
Stepping into the main path, Legolas found himself confronted by Elrond, who was smiling broadly. Only slightly abashed, Legolas returned the smile, accompanying it with a small bow. “Híren.” Turning to the rest of the gathering, he smiled a welcome at Anteruon and Glorfindel, breaking into a grin at the sight of Galueth, curled determinedly in Glorfindel’s arms. Thranduil sat beside them, looking vaguely amused. “Ada, it is unusual to see you...” Legolas began, only to be interrupted peremptorily by his youngest sibling.
“Where are El’dan and El’hir?" Galueth demanded accusingly. “Have you misplaced them?”
Chuckling, Legolas shook his head. “Nay, little one, I have not misplaced them. They had things to discuss, and remained behind in my chambers. You will see them in the morning.”
Looking keenly at the prince, Glorfindel asked, “Naught is amiss, I hope?”
Legolas shook his head. “Nay, there is no difficulty. ‘Dan is in something of a mood, that is all.” Oblivious to Anteruon's darkening countenance, he grinned at Glorfindel. "I have no doubt ‘Roh will straighten him out.”
Glorfindel snickered. “Indeed. Elrohir is usually quite effective.”
As Legolas turned to his father, Elrond’s troubled grey eyes met Glorfindel's gaze before focusing on the crown prince. “Come sit with me, Anteruon,” he invited, patting the bench beside himself. “There is still much I would know about your previous training in the healing arts.”
His face lightening immediately, Anteruon perched beside Elrond, and was soon deep into details of his time studying with Mirkwood’s healers.
Thranduil eyed his second-born closely. “Are you determined to go forward with this campaign, Legolas?”
“Aye, Ada,” the prince replied at once. “It will be of great benefit to the realm, as well as the human settlements which have fallen prey to these brigands. Our success will make trade safer and thus more profitable.”
“And your failure?” the king asked soberly, shaking his head. “If you fail, my son, what...”
“We shall not fail, Ada,” Legolas returned with quiet confidence. “There are centuries of experience riding for this cause, against disordered bands of men. We shall not fail.”
“They will succeed, my friend,” Glorfindel agreed, laying a comforting hand on Thranduil’s arm. “Legolas and his guards are highly skilled, and the twins have been riding against just such foes for many centuries.”
“’It is little more dangerous than a raid against orch, Ada,” the prince began. “You never...”
Breaking off suddenly, Legolas stood motionless, his blue-green eyes curiously blank as he focused on the gentle entreaty curling through his thoughts.
It is late, ‘Las. Are you not coming to bed?
We have saved you the best spot, anor nín.
Aye, we have, though I cannot promise it will stay open unless you hurry.
And bring a bottle of miruvor, hmm? To accompany our honey butter.
Legolas chuckled. “Pardon me, Ada...híren. I am being recalled, I believe.”
Glorfindel grinned broadly. “And not in language suitable for elfling’s ears, I wager.”
Laughing, Legolas shook his head. “It is easy to see where the twins learned their craft, híren. And I have been instructed to return accompanied by a bottle of miruvor, Ada. If any remains?”
Acutely aware of Anteruon’s rigidly expressionless face, and Elrond’s failing attempt to hold his attention, Glorfindel said quickly, “There are several bottles still in the case, my prince. Come with me.”
Blissfully ignorant of the unease that had settled over the group, Legolas nodded. “Thank you, Glorfindel.” Smiling at the others, he added, "Sleep well.”
As the two elves left in search of miruvor, Anteruon stood suddenly, cutting Elrond off in mid-sentence. “Pardon me, híren, but I am quite weary,” he sighed. “I will seek my bed now.”
“Will you take Galueth to her chambers?" Thranduil prodded gently. “It is long past bedtime for elflings, I fear.”
“Aye ‘Ruon, take me to my chambers, and tell a story,” the princess ordered imperiously. “You tell good stories.”
Seeing the firm hold the crown prince had on himself begin to unravel, Elrond spoke up. “I will take her, if she will allow it. It would be a pleasure to tell stories again.” Smiling at Galueth he went on, “My own younglings are far too old to enjoy their ada’s stories.”
“Will you carry me?" the elfling asked suspiciously.
“I will,” Elrond replied, his eyes twinkling. “On my shoulders, if you like.”
“Aye, I would like that,” Galueth beamed. “I will go with you.”
“I will say goodnight, then,” Anteruon broke in tiredly. “Thank you, Lord Elrond.”
“Sleep well,” Elrond replied quietly.
Anteruon shook his head slightly, a rueful smile flickering across his face as he turned toward his chambers. “Perhaps, but I do not expect to, híren.”
*~*~*~*~*
el nín - my star
anor nín - my sun
rohir nín - my knight
tôren - my brother
híren - my lord