Chapter 18

Elrond paced Thranduil's study restlessly, his gaze wandering repeatedly toward the open door. Turning to retrace his steps yet again, he found his way barred by a towering figure.

“Sit down,” Glorfindel said firmly, urging Elrond toward a large chair. “You will wear out your legs, as well as Thranduil’s floor-cloth. Grant them a few final moments of privacy. They will be down when they are ready.”

“I know,” Elrond replied with a half-hearted smile. “It would be thought that I might be accustomed to such partings by now, but...”

“...but it is never any easier, no matter that you have done the same many times before,” Thranduil finished with a sigh. “I know, my friend. I know. And the waiting is nearly as stressful as the parting, or so it seems to me.”

“It is indeed,” Glorfindel agreed soberly. “For the twins and Legolas, also, I wager.” Focusing on the woodland king, he added, “What strength of warriors did they finally agree to muster?”

“Less than a score," Thranduil answered unhappily. “I would have them take twice that, but we cannot leave the borders poorly guarded at any time, least of all while I am away.” Shrugging ruefully he continued, “And Legolas feels a larger guard would do naught but give the enemy more warning.”

“He is likely right,” Elrond said thoughtfully. “These packs of thugs are rarely large, and surprise serves better than number to defeat them.” Chuckling softly, he amended, “At least thus says the wisdom of my sons...as well as my captain, eh, Glorfindel?”

“Aye, wisdom does agree, híren,” Glorfindel replied with a smile, “and your captain, in doing his duty, must ask after your own travel preparations. We should leave with the dawn tomorrow, I fear. Our soldiers can move at a few hours’ notice.”

Elrond nodded. “It is time we were getting back to the valley. I am ready, save a bit of last-minute packing.” Turning his attention to the Mirkwood king, he asked, “What of you, Thranduil? Are you game for the journey?”

“I have little taste for travel, as you well know, Elrond,” Thranduil retorted wryly. “Legolas inherited that love from his naneth, I suppose.” Smiling at Glorfindel, he went on, “Yet there is much waiting at the end of this trek that I have long missed. Aye, I am prepared.”

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

Elladan came from the bathing chamber in a puff of steam, a towel tied loosely around his hips. Noting the broad grins gracing the faces of his lovers, he raised an eyebrow in silent interrogation.

“Water creature,” Elrohir snorted, shaking his head in amusement. “I share my soul with a water creature.”

“Aye, but he is quite fetching in a towel,” Legolas teased, quoting the elf-knight’s own words from a well-remembered conversation in Imladris. “And even more fetching without it,” he added as the towel dropped to the floor.

“Hot water is not to be sneezed at,” Elladan said sternly, his eyes twinkling in repute of his tone. Tugging up his worn leather leggings, he tied them snugly before continuing. “It will be a long wait before we have the chance to soak again, I wager.”

“Aye, it will be a long wait before we have a chance to soak...among other things,” Legolas grumbled so darkly that both twins burst into laughter.

“Shall we call off the pursuit, then, anor nín, that your bed-calendar might remain full?” Elladan chuckled, pulling his scowling lover back into a snug embrace.

“Do not tempt me,” Legolas retorted good-naturedly, a grin spreading across his face. “I might be persuaded.”

Turning to face Elladan, Legolas looked searchingly into his lover's sparkling grey eyes. “’Tis alright now, ‘Dan?" he asked, pushing back a strand of raven-dark hair. “You are alright now? I would not have you go on such a mission distracted by worry or regret.”

“Aye, ‘tis alright now,” Elladan agreed with a smile. “There is no longer worry, ‘Las, and there never was regret.”

“Good,” Legolas said simply, pressing a lingering kiss to his lover’s mouth before pulling away with a sigh. “The morning grows no younger, I am afraid. We had best be getting on.”

As the twins pulled on their preferred battle-garb of blue, grey and black, braiding their hair in ebony ropes sparked with their signature beads, Legolas arrayed himself in the dark greens and rusty brown favored by the woodland warriors. Reaching up to begin his woven braids, the prince was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

“I will do it,” Elrohir offered, already separating the heavy golden mass into sections. With a skill born of many centuries practice, the prince’s hair was woven into a single heavy braid, the strands dotted with beads of mithril and blue. “There,” the elf-knight nodded smugly. “Now you are perfect.”

“Nearly so,” Elladan agreed, offering no further explanation as he lifted heavy leather pads to his shoulders, raising his arms to allow Elrohir to tighten the buckles securely, then lifting his chin as his brother fitted the high collar of stiffened black leather that completed the armor.

Watching as the warriors he had so long known and fought beside appeared in full guise, Legolas found himself frowning in concentration. Something was not quite right...something was missing...

Elrohir donned his own protective gear in turn, moving his arms experimentally to be sure the pads were well-placed and secure, before turning to help his twin secure the prince’s scuffed brown leather armor. The job done to his satisfaction, Elrohir turned expectantly toward his brother.

Dipping his thumb in the tiny box he cradled in one hand, Elladan drew a single stroke of black under each of the elf- knight’s eyes, following the sharp rise of his cheekbones. Handing over the earthen box of kohl, the elder twin then stood as he was marked in turn.

Legolas smiled ruefully. Of course...the kohl stripes completed the familiar picture. The markings, emphasizing the silvery gleam of the twins' eyes and the steep slope of their cheekbones, had been a part of their battle-dress for as long as he could remember.

Identical grey gazes met and held for a long moment, then Elrohir solemnly handed the container of silken black powder back to his brother. Moving to stand before Legolas, Elladan met his lover's eyes soberly, then firmly striped the prince's angular cheekbones with two sure strokes. Smiling slightly at Legolas’ astonishment, he said, “Now you are perfect.”

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

“Here they come,” Barangolas announced, turning expectantly toward the faint squeak of leather that heralded the trio’s descent to the courtyard.

Following the youngest prince’s gaze, the assembled elves watched bemused as the warriors approached, greeting the three with expressions ranging from broad grins to wordlessly raised eyebrows. Galueth, as was her wont, cut directly to the heart of the matter. “Your face is dirty, ‘Golas,” she announced without preamble, drawing chuckles from all present.

“So it is, little one,” Glorfindel agreed with a grin. “But does it not make Legolas look fierce? As though he could eat an orch raw, perhaps?”

"Elves do not eat orch," Galueth giggled, wrapping her arms around her brother. Suddenly sober, she asked, “Must you leave, ‘Golas?”

“Aye, I am afraid so,” Legolas answered gently, kneeling to embrace his sister. “I will return as soon as I may.”

Frowning slightly, the princess demanded, “Can you not leave me El’dan? Or El’hir? I would watch him closely.”

Legolas forced back a chuckle at the thought of either of his lovers supervised by the impulsive elfling. “Nay, I have need of the twins on this trip. They will come back to see you. Now say farewell, little one. We must be going soon.”

“Farewell, El’dan...El’hir,” Galueth chimed obediently, hugging each twin in turn. “Farewell, ‘Golas.”

Thranduil and Elrond stood apart, watching with heavy hearts as good-byes and hopeful wishes were exchanged. Pride warred with worry as they waited, smiling wryly when their eyes met and shared emotions were recognized. Laying a hand comfortingly on the king’s shoulder, Elrond turned his gaze back to the others.

“Do not be too long, tôren,” Barangolas said, embracing Legolas tightly. “And I think you look quite fine.” he added, his green eyes sparkling as he moved to bid the twins farewell. “I will gather the raiding party,” he announced when his good-byes were completed, reluctantly heading for the stable.

“Be safe, young ones,” Glorfindel ordered, drawing each of the trio into a warrior’s embrace. Clasping the younger twin’s forearms, he asked quietly, “Who leads, Elrohir?”

“’Las,” the elf-knight answered, keeping his own voice low. “It is his company, after all. But he is not too proud to accept advice, from whoever may have it to give.”

“That is well, then,“ Glorfindel said with relief. His irrepressible grin breaking through, he added, “Good hunting.”

To everyone’s surprise, including his own, Anteruon embraced his brother tightly in farewell. “Good luck, little brother,” he said quietly. “Be careful.”

“I will, tôren,” Legolas responded, touched by the rare display of affection. “You will take care of Galueth and Barangolas, yes?” he continued with a smile. “That is a far bigger job than caring for the realm.”

“That is true,” Anteruon chuckled, moving to catch Elrohir’s arm in a warrior’s clasp. “Farewell, my friend.”

“Farewell,” the elf-knight returned, squeezing Anteruon’s shoulder. “Do not worry overmuch.”

Facing Elladan, Anteruon arched one eyebrow wryly. “Farewell, peredhel,” he said, clasping the elder twin’s arm. “Take care of them. Of him.”

“I will, wood-elf,” Elladan replied, only the faintest hint of a twinkle visible in his eyes as he gripped Anteruon's shoulder before turning to move toward his father and the king.

“Elladan?” the crown prince said suddenly, hesitating as the elder twin swung around, one ebony eyebrow lifted in question. "You will always find a welcome here."

“Thank you, Anteruon,” Elladan replied with a smile. “And you are always welcome in the valley, gwador.”

Legolas gaped in surprise at the endearment, but had little time to ponder its meaning before his attention was claimed by his father. Shaking his head ruefully, Thranduil studied the kohl-marked face of his son, then reached out to touch the bead-flecked single braid. “A golden-haired peredhel,” he chuckled, “It is a rare sight, indeed.”

“Does it displease you, Ada?” Legolas asked uneasily, his gaze fixed on his father’s face.

“Nay, it does not displease me, young one,” the king answered with a smile, embracing Legolas tightly. Stepping back, Thranduil retained a grip on his son’s forearms. “I love you, Legolas. Elbereth’s protection.”

“And I love you, Ada,” Legolas returned. “Do not worry. We will be well.”

Embracing the twins in turn, Thranduil placed a hand on each leather-clad chest. “Elbereth’s protection, young ones,” he said soberly. “Mirkwood is grateful for your service.”

“And we are grateful for your acceptance, híren,” Elrohir replied, “so both debts may be considered paid.”

“We are even then,” Thranduil agreed, his eyes twinkling. “That is well.” Turning to the elder twin, he smiled faintly. “Thank you, Elladan. I neither know nor wish to know what occurred. But you have my gratitude.”

Inclining his head wordlessly, Elladan smiled before moving to stand near his own father, who was speaking earnestly with Legolas. “Have you orders to keep us on a tight rein, ‘Las?" Elladan teased.

“He is well aware of our failings, Ada,” Elrohir joked as he joined them. “It is not necessary to list them.”

Raising one expressive eyebrow, Elrond retorted, “I daresay that is true, 'Rohir.” Glancing at Elladan, he said, “And though you often need a tight rein, I was in truth reminding the prince that the two of you are not only very skilled, you are also very dear to me. I would see you all return intact.”

“I know that, Ada,” Elladan replied, his face serious. “I love you. I jest only to ease the strain of parting.”

“And I am well aware of that,” Elrond said, pulling his eldest into a snug embrace. “I love you, ‘Adan. Be safe. Valar‘s grace to you.” Gathering the elf-knight in a fierce hug, Elrond repeated his ritual farewell. “I love you, ‘Rohir. Be safe. Valar‘s grace to you.”

“I love you, Ada,” Elrohir said with a smile, “and Elbereth‘s protection to you, also. It is a long journey to Imladris. Will you leave tomorrow?”

“Aye, with the dawn, or so Glorfindel insists,” Elrond sighed, his face so pained that all three of the younger elves grinned broadly.

A whistle from the gate drew Legolas’ attention to the gathered company of warriors, where Glorfindel could be seen, apparently deep in conversation with three riderless horses. “’Dan...’ Roh...they are ready,” the prince pointed out, indicating the mounted guard. Grinning at the sight of the legendary Imladrian captain chatting with several obviously fascinated stallions, he added, “I fear Glorfindel is giving Ornfaer and your friends some last-minute instruction.”

“I do not doubt it,” Elladan snickered as they walked toward the gates, strapping on assorted swords, knives, and quivers. “He has my Mithrengil - and Alagos - under his thumb completely.”

“Aye, and I would have this one, too, with a few days effort,” Glorfindel broke in with a chuckle as Ornfaer rubbed against his shoulder. “He is a fine animal, Legolas.” Giving each horse a final pat as the trio mounted, he nodded. “They will guard you well. Farewell, my friends.”

“Farewell, Glorfindel,” the three chorused. “Look after Ada, híren,” Legolas added quietly.

“You have my word,” Glorfindel promised, stepping back to stand beside Thranduil and Elrond.

“Farewell,” Elrond said, looking at each of the three intently. “Send word as you can.”

“Aye, indeed,” Thranduil agreed. “Do not be long, younglings. Farewell.”

Farewell, híren,“ the trio chorused, then resolutely turned their mounts toward the forest path.

Raising a hand in ritual salute to his warriors, Thranduil drew a deep breath, then uttered the blessing which set them on their way. “The Valar protect you all.”

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

Leading the way up the narrow path, Legolas paused where the trail began to widen, allowing the company to reform and the twins to move up beside him.

“Where to first, ‘Las?" Elrohir asked curiously. “To Esgaroth for news? Or shall we make a broad sweep?”

“Not to Esgaroth, yet, ‘Roh,” Legolas replied thoughtfully. “I would have a look around before we reveal ourselves to the humans. South, I think. We will ride toward the Old Forest Road. There has been much villainy in that region of the Wood for many years.”

Legolas dropped back for a moment to inform his captain of their destination, then rejoined Elladan and Elrohir. So closely was he watching for Tiriadon’s sign that the raised arm was acknowledged even before it was fully extended. Legolas turned to the twins, a feral smile spreading across his face. “Come on, my friends,” he said, his eyes sparkling wickedly. “It is a fine day for hunting.”

Ornfaer - tree-spirit (Legolas’ horse)
Mithrengil - grey-star (Elladan’s horse)
Alagos - storm of wind (Elrohir’s horse)

anor nín - my sun
tôren - my brother
gwador - sworn brother
híren - my lord(s)