Chapter 9

No one was more surprised than Elrohir himself when the words left his mouth. "Anteruon! Do not be so stiff-necked, my friend. Come join us."

While reprimanding Legolas and the twins the previous week, Thranduil had suggested - in no uncertain terms - that they spend their energy sparring at the training ground, rather than rutting in the caverns. Thus their presence there, and Elrohir�s unexpected words.

Legolas, locked in a lost weapon match with Elladan, stopped dead to stare at Elrohir, causing his opponent to nearly skewer him with a sword thrust. Barangolas and Tiriadon turned to look at the younger twin in amazement, their hand-to-hand bout forgotten. Lindel - nursing a strained wrist suffered on patrol - glanced curiously from Elrohir, who was lounging at one side of the practice field, to Anteruon, who stood on a second-level platform overlooking the open area.

Anteruone was still for a moment, then shook his head slowly. Eyeing his brother closely, Legolas seemed to catch the barest hint of...regret? Longing? Drawing a deep breath, he added his own invitation to Elrohir�s. "Aye, t�ren, join us," he said. "We are short an elf, as Lind�s wrist is still healing."

"I do not think..." Anteruon began stiffly, but he was quickly forestalled by a teasing challenge from Elladan.

"We will go easy on you. Come, spar with us." Indicating Barangolas with a mischievous grin, the elder twin added, "Perhaps you will have better luck than your little brother."

Taking a playful swipe at Elladan, Barangolas chuckled, "Aye, come and try, Anteruon. You have not trained with us in many years."

A brief smile flitted over the crown prince�s features. "I suppose I have not. I will join you."

Descending the stairs to the practice field, Anteruon looked uncertainly at the good-humored group. "Quit stalling," Legolas prodded with a friendly smile. "Strip off that tunic and we shall see how you fare against �Roh in hand-to-hand tactics." His smile widening, the prince cast a teasing glance at Elrohir and continued, "But I warn you, he is skilled at close combat."

Among other things, hmm?

Aye, but those skills are not for public demonstration, rohir n�n.

Removing his tunic, Anteruon looked uneasily from Legolas to Elrohir. Noticing his brother�s discomfort, Barangolas said, "Never mind them, t�ren. It is something you quickly become accustomed to witnessing." Grinning at Legolas, he added, "Our sibling must constantly be reminded that mindspeaking in company is rude."

"Perhaps," Legolas agreed with a smirk. "But to make the remarks aloud would have been far more disconcerting, I wager."

"Hush, �Las," Elladan broke in mildly. "You are distressing Anteruon and holding up the match."

Expecting a show of temper from his brother, Anteruon was surprised when Legolas simply cast a sheepish grin at the elder twin and moved to his side, slipping a possessive arm around Elladan�s waist. He was further taken aback when Elladan buried his nose in Legolas' hair for a moment before pressing a kiss to the prince's cheek. �They behave as any other lovers,� Anteruon realized with a start, uncertain as to what he had expected instead. Pondering this discovery, he was unaware of Elrohir�s question until the younger twin touched his arm.

"It would be wise to tie back your hair, my prince," Elrohir repeated, offering a piece of leather lacing. "Shall I braid it for you?"

"I am not your prince," Anteruon retorted, but the snub lacked its usual venom and Elrohir was not surprised when the crown prince grudgingly allowed his honey-gold tresses to be fashioned into a single thick braid.

"Your hair is beautiful," Elrohir remarked, separating and weaving the shining strands. "It glows like burnished gold in the light."

Opening his mouth to make a biting comment, Anteruon was astounded to find himself saying, "It is little more than ordinary, among wood-elves. Yours is far more exotic. Black as a raven�s wing, and so straight."

"And mine is little more than ordinary among my people," Elrohir answered with a smile, tying off the finished braid. "There, you are ready to tussle."

"What of your hair?" Anteruon asked, indicating the elf-knight's loosened locks. "You are left with only side braids."

"I will knot it," Elrohir said with a grin, his eyes twinkling. "It will hold long enough for me to best you, I wager."

Anteruon snorted, not unpleasantly, as he watched Elrohir twist the length of his hair, tying a simple knot in the silken rope that was formed, mithril-sparked side braids swinging freely.

"Ready?" Tiriadon asked. Receiving a nod from both warriors, he called, "Match!"

Circling warily, Anteruon adopted a defensive posture. He ruefully conceded that there was little chance of victory, and briefly wondered why he had agreed to the bout. His opponent was more heavily muscled, better trained, and had several hundred years of practice on him. It would be enough to last a while and score a hold or two.

Elrohir glimpsed an opening in Anteruon�s defenses and moved in quickly, locking the crown prince in a fierce vertical contest of strength and balance which ended when Anteruon leaned heavily to one side, pulling both to the ground in a tangle.

"Well done," Elrohir said, wrapping his legs around Anteruon, pinning him tightly. "But I will still best you."

"Perhaps," Anteruon panted, finding a hold on the younger twin�s shoulder. With a fluid twist, he reversed their positions and pressed his opponent to the ground, grinning truiumphantly. "But you will know you have grappled, Peredhel."

"I do not doubt that, wood-elf," Elrohir chortled, before applying himself to the contest in earnest. As Anteruon had expected, he was out-matched, and the disparity became greater as they tired. With a final heave, Elrohir threw his opponent backward, straddling his hips, pinning his arms with firm hands. "Do you concede?" he gasped with a dazzling grin. "I believe I have you."

"I will grant you the match," Anteruon shot back with a smirk, "but you have lost your wager."

"My wager?" Elrohir repeated, tilting his head to one side. Releasing the prince�s hands, he asked, "What wager?"

Grinning up at the perplexed victor, Anteruon grabbed a handful of the inky-black hair that streamed over Elrohir�s shoulders. "You wagered your knot would hold long enough to best me."

Elrohir threw his head back and laughed merrily. Looking up at the elf-knight, Anteruon felt as though blinders had been removed from his eyes. �He is beautiful,� the crown prince realized, taking in Elrohir's exertion-flushed face and silken ebony locks. There was no gloating or arrogance in the younger twin�s exuberant smile, and his silver-grey eyes sparkled with pleasure. �This is what Legolas sees in them,� Anteruon marveled, lost in his musings. �How he sees them...face flushed and hair unbound...� Sensual images followed unbidden, and to his horror Anteruon felt himself begin to harden rapidly. Suddenly aware of Elrohir�s weight on his groin he shifted desperately, his movements only adding to his predicament. Flushing darkly, he snapped, "You can release me now. I have conceded."

Startled by the sudden change in the prince's demeanor, Elrohir looked at him curiously. "Have I hurt you?" he asked with concern, then bit his lip in understanding as a change of position pushed Anteruon's erection against his bottom. "�Tis alright," he began, "It happens to all of us when we..."

"Not to me," Anteruon hissed. "I do not fancy males that way." His face rigid he said, "Let me up Elrohir. Please."

Rising gracefully, Elrohir extended a hand to his subdued opponent, who accepted the help after a moment�s hesitation. "Do not be so disturbed, my friend," he urged quietly. "It is the excitement and movements of the match, nothing more. It would be strange if you did not..."

"Hold your tongue, Peredhel," Anteruon spat out, shaking off Elrohir�s hand. "You know nothing of this." Glancing at the astonished onlookers, he said, "I am going for a walk."

As the crown prince trudged off, tunic over his arm, Barangolas asked, "What is chewing on him, Elrohir? It was not a bad match. Surely he did not expect to subdue you?"

Elrohir merely shook his head, his face sober. Elladan looked at his twin searchingly and frowned, dissatisfied with whatever he was able to gather. "Where will he go, �Las?"

"Probably into the forest," Legolas replied thoughtfully. "He oft leaves the halls when brooding."

"Is he safe alone?" Elrohir asked with a frown, feeling unreasonably responsible for Anteruon�s mood, and thus his safety.

Legolas paused for a moment, his face uncertain. "Aye, it is usually safe, as long as you remain near the Halls and take a weapon for protection. The danger is more from spiders than orcs, unless you wander too far."

"Then let us hope he does not wander too far," Elrohir said grimly.

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

The sun began to sink behind the trees and still Anteruon did not return. Pacing restlessly, Elrohir suddenly announced, "I am going after him."

"Nay, rohir n�n, you are not," Legolas said firmly. "Not alone, at any cost. I can send a patrol..."

Shaking his head, Elrohir argued, "It would likely be the last straw, �Las, to have a full contingent of guards come to drag him home. �Dan and I will go look for him."

"You are being foolish, �Roh," Legolas retorted. "Mirkwood is my home, and I know it well. You would be lost in a matter of minutes once you left the paths."

As Elrohir opened his mouth to protest, Legolas frowned. "I know you do not think he will talk about whatever this mysterious problem is with me present, but there will be no time for talk in the forest, anyway. It is not safe after dark, save inside the gates...so if we are going, we had best leave now."

Bowing to the inevitable, the twins quickly collected their weapons, following Legolas out into the rapidly dimming forest. The trio moved swiftly and silently, and Legolas stopped frequently, his forest-honed senses reaching out to explore the area, before moving once more.

Suddenly the prince froze, listening intently. When he turned to the twins, his eyes were troubled. "Spiders," he said grimly, moving off rapidly toward the sound. "Ready your bows."

A moment later Elladan and Elrohir also heard the sound, a brittle wooden chatter made by the movement of the spider�s legs. To their dismay, other sounds were soon audible - the keening wail of an elven blade, overlaid by the rasp of labored breathing.

Breaking into a run, they burst from the forest into a small clearing...and into a nightmare. Anteruon stood in the center of the space, wielding a burning brand and his sword with equal desperation. He was surrounded by spiders, some of which turned on the newcomers as though sensing fresh meat.

Bows singing, the rescuers cleared a path to Anteruon, who was exhausted, but apparently uninjured. Fighting back to back, they managed to clear most of the spiders from the clearing. Legolas fired his last arrows, then grabbed a branch, lighting it from Anteruon�s spluttering torch. "Hurry!" he ordered, "while they are scattered. We must make the gates."

As they headed toward the Halls, nearly running, Elrohir glanced back to check on Anteruon and felt his heart pause. He gasped in horror as a dark shape dropped silently from the trees toward the crown prince. "Look out, Anteruon! Above you!" he yelled, throwing himself bodily at the astonished elf.

Legolas and Elladan whirled at the shouts, dashing toward the spider as it settled over Elrohir�s legs, pinning him to the ground. Out of arrows, Legolas flung his twin knives at the creature, striking it in the head. It fell back, revealing Elrohir's still form, and Legolas, sick with dread, met Elladan's eyes as their voices blended in agonized denial.

"Elrohir!"

*~*~*~*~*

anor n�n - my sun
rohir n�n - my knight
t�ren - my brother