Woodcraft

He always won, he always had. When his brothers played with him, he had bested them time and time again. In the forest, no one could find him; he passed as a shadow through the trees. Woodcraft was his skill, not leadership and politics as was Haldir's domain or archery as was Rúmil's. The shadows of the forest, the hidden paths through the trees, these were Orophin's world and he knew them better than anyone.

Hence he always won.

Matlar, however, introduced a new dilemma to him. With five brothers, none could stand above the other so distinctly. Therefore, nursery politics came into play. Matlar let Feuil win, to see his younger brother happy. Orophin had to check that his brothers had not done the same. Once he was satisfied that he was indeed winning by skill rather than kindness, he began to realise that Matlar never won any game where his brother was a contender. Feuil took first place, always. Orophin had watched them play at riddles, Matlar pausing so that Feuil would be the one who was applauded. It seemed that the younger prince never noticed. It stretched to others as well, Rhosiel was allowed to outpace him in a race, Legolas faced no competition at the chess table.

Orophin had decided it would end.

Under the golden eaves of Lothlórien he knew he could stage his own defeat. All he had to do was let Matlar find him as he walked through the woods, without it seeming as if he wished to be found. He was silent, listening instead for the sound of breathing or a heartbeat in the quiet forest that would alert him to the Sindar's presence. It was a glimpse of silver blond hair that made him stop; vaguely he could sense Matlar somewhere to his right. The wind was against him which helped his opponent. He could easily have vanished, slipping away and Matlar would never have known but instead he kept going straight, blending into the trees yet keeping the same course. Matlar had seen him, he was fairly certain of that and the Sindar was now following him at a distance. Orophin frowned, veering off the path towards one of Lórien's hidden lakes. He watched as Matlar looked around for him on the bank, not even disturbing the birds that bathed in the water with his presence.

Matlar stopped looking after a moment, creeping out of the trees to gaze out over the lake. His expression caught at Orophim's chest. Wonder at the sheer beauty of the forest, but sadness too. The golden wood was not Matlar's home, that forest had been tainted by shadow.

"I have found you," he said quietly, turning to stare directly at Orophin who climbed out into the open. There was a look of surprise on Matlar's face, almost shock that he had actually found him. "How can this be? Haldir assured me I would spend the afternoon searching in vain."

"You have keen eyes," Orophin answered, smiling. That Matlar seemed so surprised at having won did hurt somewhat, he was so used to conceding defeat in favour of his siblings that he was unused to the feeling. Orophin wished he had worked it out sooner and had seen the simple joy before. "You could have said before I reached the lake."

"I was not sure it was you I was following." Matlar's eyes were drawn out to the landscape once again. "It is beautiful." The lake reflected the patch of sky visible, burnished gold as the sun was directly overhead. Its rays hit the surface and splintered into a thousand strands that rebounded through the trees. Even though they were green, the leaves glowed with golden light and every trunk bounced the shafts back at them. In the middle of it stood the two elves, silver and green and grey they seemed in the Golden Wood.

Orophin turned away from the sight before Matlar did, looking at his face with a frown. "It is a different sort of beauty," he said softly. "You need not be sad."

"A different sort. Yes, I shall say that instead." Matlar's smile was thin. "And I have won, therefore how can I be sad?" Orophin slipped his hand into Matlar's so gently that at first the Sindar did not notice. When he did, he stared down at it in surprise but did not pull away. Anything, any blow to his unblemished record or pride was worth the half swallowed smile that threatened Matlar's lips. "Are you trying to prevent me from telling anyone that I have bested you at your own game?"

"I will tell them myself," he answered. "And show that you are no boasting in your tale." His hand was held more tightly as Matlar pulled him closer to his side. There was a hesitation though, an ever so slight one. "What is it?"

"You let me win."

Caught, Orophin hung his head, making a thorough inspection of the ground. "You allow Feuil to beat you, at anything, even Rhosiel and Legolas. You deserve to be cheered for once."

"I never thought anyone would notice that."

Orophin had to laugh at that, turning Matlar around so that they were face to face. "I notice, idiot. When it comes to you, I notice everything."

He took a step; it seemed about time that he did for he was certain Matlar was too shy to take it. One hand was firmly holding his, the other reached up to cup Matlar's face gently. Orophin smirked as the realisation made the green eyes in front of him go wide. He paused for the tiniest of instants, letting Matlar move forward so slightly that it could have been the natural movement of standing still. Then they kissed and Orophin managed to smile as he did it, Matlar's free hand holding the nape of his neck in place. The moment lasted an eternity and was over far too soon, Matlar pulling away to breathe. They stayed there, less than an inch away from each other, smiles slowly seeping across their faces.

"Finding you will become easier and easier," Matlar murmured. Of course, their sense of each other's whereabouts would only increase until they developed the same annoying ability Yarna and Legolas had of being able to pick out which room the other was in without thinking. Hiding in the forest from Matlar was the very last thing Orophin imagined he would ever wish to do.

"Then you will waste less time looking." He kissed him again and was rewarded with the same smile when they moved apart. Lórien, in all its golden splendour, did not compare to that smile.

"You look as if you are about to say something pretentious."

"Then I shall not say a word," Orophin promised. Instead he grinned, wrapping his arms around Matlar's waist. Unfortunately, Matlar had moved to do the same thing and they lost their balance, half on purpose. The lake's bank was soft as they sat, or flopped in Orophim's case, down onto it. He spent a minute adjusting Matlar's arms so that he was firmly beneath one of them in a half embrace, his own arm around Matlar's hips.

"You are ridiculous."

Orophin shrugged happily. "Now you may play chess using all your skill, not simply that little that will match your brother."

"I do hope you enjoy defeat then," answered Matlar. "I fear you have inadvertently awakened my long lost ego."

"I do not think we have much to fear from it, Melda." The word was not new; it had been at the back of his mouth for a while, just waiting to be spoken. Hearing it brought another of the perfect smiles. "Stop me before I sound like your brother."

"Which one? Feuil is now besotted with Rhosiel and the last time I checked, Legolas was on speaking terms with his wife. We also suspect that Orision has fallen in love, although it is hard to say. He may have simply named a cloud or some other such thing."

"Any of them, I mean no offense when I say that they often sound as ridiculous as an ill-written lay with their talk of love and their beloveds."

"I have neglected to mention this lately, for fear of being named as a hypocrite," Matlar murmured.

"No, Melda. You at least, can manage prose that does not elicit cries of pain. Another skill you may add to your ego."

"That and your woodcraft crown." Orophin smiled, nestling as close as physically possible.

"Aye, I shall find it for you when we return for it is yours."