Chapter 6

"’Las, it is not necessary to do this," Elrohir said, his gaze roving over the prince warily. "You told us it was not the way of Mirkwood to make such a display. We do not wish to discomfit anyone, least of all yourself. Or Thranduil."

"I know it is not necessary, 'Roh, and I am full aware of what I said in the valley," Legolas replied. Looking at Elladan intently, he continued, "Do you remember your answer, 'Dan?"

Elladan nodded. "Aye. I said you are ours and we are yours, and that I would have that made abundantly clear to everyone, in all the realms."

"That is what we are doing tonight, and I will brook no more argument," Legolas insisted. "I will not have my lovers perused like candy in a sweet shop, and there are many here who would do just that, if my claim is not clearly made."

"You do not trust us, anor nín? I am crushed," Elrohir teased. "What must we do to prove ourselves?"

Legolas, his eyes twinkling, ran a finger over the younger twin’s mouth. "I am certain we will find some way for you to prove your loyalty, ‘Roh," he said with a smirk. "Later." His face becoming serious, he implored, "Trust me, please. I will not offend Ada with inappropriate conduct, I promise. It will likely seem no more than friendly attention to you. But we will be noticed and our relationship noted."

"And likely remarked on," Elladan added soberly. "Silence from Anteruon is an unlikely blessing."

"Aye, unlikely, indeed," Elrohir agreed. "It would be most impolite to brawl with the crown prince at Thranduil’s table, ‘Las. Are you sure this is advisable?"

"I am," Legolas answered firmly. "We are far past majority and have Ada’s support. It is not necessary for my brother to concern himself and I will tell him so. Forcefully, if need be." Slipping an arm around each of his lovers, he pulled them toward the door. "Come on, ‘Dan...’Roh," he urged with a grin. "It is time for wine...and probably fireworks."

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

A wave of astounded silence rippled over the courtyard, reaching Thranduil just as the trio arrived at the bottom of the curving stairway. Turning expectantly, the king stood frozen for a long moment, eyes riveted on his son and the two who flanked him.

Though they wore black leggings, the Peredhil twins were dressed in the formal manner common in Mirkwood, their emerald green tunics worn alone, without shirts underneath. Wide collars of mithril adorned with three tokens, one of which was certainly an oak leaf, lay at their throats. Hair black and glossy as obsidian, held back by simple warrior's braids, hung nearly to their waists. Elladan’s braids were dotted with intensely blue beads of lapis lazuli, Elrohir’s with frosty mithril ovals.

Framed by such exotic darkness, Legolas seemed aglow in his garb of soft leaf green, his tunic open at the neck to reveal a silky blue layer underneath, the now-familiar mithril cuff curling around his right arm. As the prince turned his head to speak to one of his companions, Thranduil saw with a jolt that his son’s woven braids were sprinkled with blue and mithril, the beads flashing like gems in Legolas' pale gold hair.

The trio paid no heed to the effect their entrance had on the courtyard, smiling politely as they made their way past the frankly staring elves to the king’s side. As they moved through the crowd, the silence behind them was swallowed up by the murmur of many incredulous voices and the hiss of excited whispers.

Torn between amusement and annoyance, Thranduil shook his head at the trio. "This was your idea, I presume, son?" he asked, one golden eyebrow raised. "You all look very fine, though ‘tis not much short of the announcement you deemed unnecessary."

"Aye, it was indeed my idea, Ada," Legolas admitted freely. "It seemed a good way of making my point, without the impropriety you so feared." Grinning, he admitted, "Besides, it was a great deal of fun to plan."

"I can see how that might be so, young one," the king said with a chuckle. Looking closely at the mithril collars adorning the twin’s necks, he turned to Legolas with a mock frown. "So this is where the clasps of your tunic got to, is it? May I see one, please?"

Removing his collar, Elladan passed it to Thranduil. "They are mirror images, híren. Alike except for the positioning of the tokens."

Thranduil took the unexpectedly light neckpiece, studying the ornaments carefully. The golden oak leaf, flanked by the six- pointed Imladrian star and the horse-head, made as clear a statement as Legolas’ cuff. The tokens of Imladris and Mirkwood were blended exquisitely in each case.

"They are beautiful," Thranduil replied with a smile. Ignoring Elladan’s extended hand, the king carefully replaced the collar around the elder twin’s neck, pulling Elladan's hair free. Turning to include Elrohir in his gaze, he said quietly, "I do not pretend to understand, but I have long been fond of both of you, and I would have my son happy."

"As would we, your majesty," Elrohir answered, meeting the king’s eyes steadily, "and we are most grateful for your acceptance."

"Aye, we are," Elladan agreed, his intense silver gaze fastened on Thranduil, "and we will not betray your trust."

"That promise has been made and broken before, has it not?" the crown prince remarked caustically, joining the group. "Though I know not what trust there is to betray now."

"Mae govannen, Anteruon," Elladan said easily, repressing a sigh. "And there is much you do not know, I would wager. May we not dispense with the verbal sparring this night, my prince?"

"I know enough regarding the Noldor to satisfy me, Elrondion," the eldest woodland prince replied archly. "And I do not wish to be addressed so familiarly. I am not your prince."

"A fact for which I thank the Valar daily, Anteruon," Elladan retorted, unfazed. "It was intended as a courtesy, nothing more."

"Courtesy is a subject in which you might take a lesson, Anteruon," Thranduil broke in with a frown. "It would serve you well to follow Elladan’s example. A ruler cannot always choose his company on personal whim."

Flushing slightly, the crown prince snapped, "It is a bit more than personal whim, Adar. As I said, I know enough of the Noldor to satisfy me."

"I know enough of wood-elves to satisfy me, also," Elrohir said with a grin, "Is that not so, ‘Las?"

"Indeed, it is," Legolas answered, eyes twinkling. "I have always found you to be quite satisfied with wood-elf." Turning to Anteruon, he asked, "But what Noldo have you found so satisfying, tôren? That is a story I have not heard."

"Legolas," Thranduil began warningly, raising a hand as the crown prince began to splutter, his face purple with rage. "That is quite enough..."

"It is more than enough, Adar," Anteruon snarled, his hands curling into fists. "Look at him! Tarted up like a toy to be passed between their beds! It was not insult enough that he deserted his own realm to whore for them in Imladris...he had to bring their depraved games here, for all of Mirkwood to witness."

Thranduil stood aghast as his eldest raved as though possessed, bitterly cursing both his brother and the Peredhil visitors. Casting a look around the king found that they had become the center of attention for those elves who had not yet went to the eating pavilion.

His anger blinding him to both the ominous quiet that had fallen over the trio and the menacing step forward Elladan and Elrohir had taken, Anteruon continued to rant, "A prince of the realm, bedding these cursed, Noldo-born mistakes of the Valar! And then to speak to me...to me...in such a manner!"

The twins were somewhat restrained by being in a foreign realm, observed by its king. Legolas was free of the first constraint and disregarded the second. With a single fluid movement he pushed Anteruon backward and to the ground, heedless of the gasps of the onlookers. Straddling his brother’s chest, he grabbed Anteruon's dark gold hair and pulled, stretching the terrified prince’s neck.

To Thranduil’s horror, he realized that Legolas held a small but deadly boot-knife in his hand. "Please, Legolas," he whispered, "please..."

Oblivious to his father’s distress, Legolas drew his blade lightly over Anteruon’s throat, leaving a faint red line. "I should cut your throat like the beast you are," he hissed, face white with fury. "It is no matter to me, tôren, what you think of my life and choices. But you have once again turned your long tongue and little wit on people and things that are very dear to me." His voice becoming dangerously calm, Legolas demanded, "I warned you before, did I not, Anteruon? You dare call my lovers mistakes? You, who have done little more in your life than whine, criticize, and dream of the throne?" His lips curling in a feral grin, Legolas asked, "What would you do now, to save yourself from my knife? Is there anyone or anything you would not betray to save your precious neck?"

‘Las, that is enough. You have scared him enough.

I do not wish to scare him, 'Dan. I wish to watch him bleed.

Please, anor nín, he is unworthy of your anger.

I will not allow him to speak so of you, ‘Roh.

'Tis alright. We pay him no heed. Please, 'Las. Put away the blade.

Aware of the eerie silence, Thranduil started to take a step toward his sons, only to be stopped by a hand on his arm. Turning to look at Elrohir in surprise, he saw that both silver-grey gazes were locked imploringly on Legolas. ‘They are mindspeaking,’ he realized with a start, then stood still.

‘Las? Answer me, anor nín. You are frightening your ada, as well.

"Very well, ‘Dan...’Roh," Legolas said, seemingly answering no one. ‘For your sake." Slipping the knife back into his boot, he smiled coldly at his still trembling brother. "Do not make the mistake a third time, tôren," he advised with chilling softness, "and do not forget whose pleas saved you."

Rising slowly, Legolas walked back to Thranduil, his face grim. A quick glance passed between the twins, and they moved to assist Anteruon. The crown prince scowled and started to knock away the extended hands. Feeling his brother’s gaze, he thought better of it and accepted the offered aid.

Seeing the episode ended in an apparently friendly fashion, the few other elves lingering in the courtyard returned to their own conversations, encouraged by an imperiously raised eyebrow from the king.

Thranduil’s face was a rigid mask as he turned to Legolas and Anteruon. "I hope we shall never suffer a repeat of this episode." Drawing a deep breath he turned to the second-born prince, his face grave. "It is unconscionable to draw a weapon on another elf, Legolas, save in direct self-defense. And the penalty for kinslaying, we will not discuss. I grant you your anger, my son. But do not ever put me in such a place again. Do I make my meaning clear?"

"Aye, Ada," Legolas replied shortly, still fuming.

"Then we will speak no more of it tonight," Thranduil acknowledged grimly. Focusing his attention on Anteruon, he said, "And once again your quick tongue and lagging thought have brought you near disaster. Elladan and Elrohir are welcome guests in my realm and you, as my heir and my subject, will treat them with at least minimal courtesy."

"The Noldo deserve little more than minimal courtesy," Anteruon returned coldly, then wilted somewhat under his father’s exasperated frown.

"It is folly to hold the perceived mistakes of the past against an entire group of elves in the present," the king rebuked firmly. "Once again I am forced to remind you that I was there. You were not."

Sighing, Thranduil shook his head, his eyes becoming distant in memory. "It was a tumultuous time, filled with miscommunication, and useless spite and envy among those who were called allies. And, aye, Oropher fell...as did Gil-galad, and Elendil. We had the victory, younglings, but it was a bitter triumph." His emerald eyes regaining their sharp focus, the king looked pointedly at Anteruon. "There was no leader without fault and none totally to blame. I will hear no more tonight. Do I make myself understood?"

"Aye, híren," the crown prince replied grudgingly, casting a dark look at the twins. "Perfectly understood."

"Then it is time to turn our attention to dining," Thranduil said heavily. "Come, the table is ready."

*~*~*~*~*

el nín - my star
rohir nín - my knight
anor nín - my sun
híren - my lord
Mae govannen - well met
tôren - my brother