Author's Note: Ro is Elrohir's nickname that I made up. Ll'adan is short for Elladan, too. The lullaby is Irish, and is not mine. I got it from a book of lullabies and old wives tales, or you could also find it on www . lullabylink . com (no spaces). And as for the elvish and most of the elven names, I got that off of www. Arwen-Undomiel . com and www . realelvish . net so don't yell at me if I got a word wrong, ha ha. I will be putting translations to the elvish phrases at the ends of the paragraph. And Elrohir and Elladan may act a little immature, so don't be surprised if you see that. Sorry if they are out of character by a landslide. But please no flames. (:
If you want a good picture of what Elrohir and Elladan look like, watch the movie Born of Hope and skip to 38:15. Matt and Sam Kennard play them. I do not own the songs; I listened to them and wrote down the lyrics. True, my OC's name is Menelwen, but I call her Melli for short. She is not a Mary-Sue—they horrify me. Melli is not perfect, does not have a perfect past, and she feels insecure about herself sometimes. The song for this story is The Only Exception by Paramore. I didn't plan on it being AU, because I wrote this story before I ever heard this song. I hope you enjoy
Chapter One:
"Mirkwood." Lord Elrond told them. "Where Prince Legolas lives and rules. You will each search there for a bride." Elrohir and Elladan nodded. But these travels were getting tiring—after two long weeks of traveling to elven cities in search of brides and finding no one to meet their standards.
"You shall go in the morning." Their father said. "Now off to bed and rest well, my sons."
The twins walked off into their room just down the hall from where their father sat in the throne room. The room was dark; Elrohir lit a lamp with a bedside candle, inhaling the plumes of the smoky, and sweet aroma.
"Brother, do you think that this time we shall be successful in finding brides?" Elrohir asked his twin. The cool bite of the nighttime air glided through the open window to the left of Elladan, and he went to close it. "Hopefully yes, but there shall be no guarantees. I still do not understand why we are so…picky with this particular subject."
Elrohir sat on his bed for a moment while pondering through his thoughts. "Mirkwood's an unlikely place," He spoke softly. "It's marshy and swampy, and I'm almost positive that the people there—"
"Brother, never make judgements when you have no idea of one's way of life or how they act. And besides, look at Legolas." Elrohir stared at his brother for a moment as he shrugged off his tough leather jacket and pants. "My apologies, Elladan. It's just that I've given up hope."
Elladan instantly swatted the comment away as he undressed too. "Women are similar to fish, and there's oceans full of them. We've only seen so many these past two weeks, and for all we know there could be two beautiful women out there just itching to be discovered."
Elrohir pulled the animal furs up to his chest and sighed. "I do hope you're right." He murmured. Elladan reached across to the table where the glowing lamp sat and with saliva-moistened fingertips, pinched out the flame. "Sleep well and catch a good dream, little brother." He told Elrohir with a smug grin.
"You are ten minutes older than me, Ll'adan. What difference does it make whether I'm big or little?" Elladan chuckled. He know how much being called "little" upset his brother. "It makes a difference, Ro…to me…"
Both twins sighed; one in contentment and the other in annoyance. "Goodnight."
…
Their father had rallied a group of beautiful women in the center of the marketplace in their village. Elrohir and Elladan scanned the crowd—all were very beautiful and most with kindred spirits. But not one had caught their eye and kept their interest for a very long time. And so the long meeting began, each one introducing themselves to the women and learning a small portion about them.
Elladan spoke to a young blonde woman named Aralia, who told him about her hard work as a…midwife. The stories she went into were much to detailed and frightening for him to handle, so he thanked her for her time and patience, and moved on.
Meanwhile, Elrohir sat at a table with a woman named Suelleth. "I make clothes for our people. They need heavy duty materials to work in the swamps and along the river banks." The twin's mind faded out with sheer boredom.
It was a long day before they got to leave—and with no choice of bride yet as usual. "Maybe we ought to scour the place for stragglers; ones who haven't come to the meeting." Elladan suggested, moving a wisp of his raven hair out of his stormy gray eyes. "I'm tired, Ll'adan." His brother moaned. "It's hot, and we still haven't chosen our brides." The sun skittered across the bright blue sky, rays kissing the tops of the tall trees, and casting dancing shadows down on the ground.
"I don't know how people survive in this mud-hole," Elrohir complained again, shaking his boot free of a long, wet weed. "Quite honestly, I don't know either." Elladan replied. He plucked the small wooden cork from his water canteen and downed almost all of the refreshing drink.
With each step they took, the ground made a satisfying "squish" along with a bubble of muddy water to follow. Birds screeched from their homes in the treetops, and wood-rodents (something I made up) pecked at the bark. "Do you know where we're going?" Elrohir asked his brother. Elladan shook his head and replied, "Lost the map awhile back."
"So then that means we're lost?" Elladan nodded at his brother. "Oh Valar," Elrohir growled. "We got lost back in Mithlond, too." It was true; the twins had gone hiking in the vast landscape, and had gotten lost just like they were now. Lucky for them—this time there wasn't a band of orcs to fight off.
Elladan looked at a tree when an odd pecking sound arose. Didn't I see that wood-rodent peck at a tree a mile back? Then it occurred to the twin that they were going around in a circle. He put a hand on his brother's shoulder to stop him from going on ahead. "We're traveling in circles, brother." Elrohir was about to yell in frustration when suddenly, a voice rang out from ahead, one so beautiful that it pierced their hearts.
"I see the moon, the moon sees me
shining through the leaves of the old oak tree
Oh, let the light that shines on me
shine on the one I love.
Over the mountain, over the sea,
back where my heart is longing to be
Oh, let the light that shines on me
shine on the one I love.
I hear the lark, the lark hears me
singing from the leaves of the old oak tree
Oh, let the lark that sings to me
sing to the one I love,"
Elrohir and Elladan knew that song by heart, but where was it coming from? "Follow it." They both said in unison, and followed the beautiful voice all the way to a field of corn. The young woman sang the song all the way across the field while holding a basket of corn atop her head.
It gave the twins an easier time finding her—just follow the floating corn basket. She started the song again, making them shiver with anticipation. "Whoever she is, she must be beautiful." Elladan whispered to himself, little did he know that his brother was thinking the exact same thing.
As they neared her, the corn stalks rustled dangerously, startling the poor girl so much that the basket of corn toppled from her hands. As she bent down to pick them up, Elrohir stepped out behind her, cracking more plant roots beneath his feet.
The young woman froze, hand gripped firmly around an ear of corn. Her face paled as she constricted the vegetable until it made her knuckles white. Shakily, she reached a hand to her pocket, pulling a long dagger from it slowly. Elrohir was so hypnotized by her that he didn't even notice until she pounced on him, knocking him to the ground, and pressing the smooth blade to the skin just below his dimpled chin.
"Who are you?" She demanded, her long brown locks tumbling over her shoulders and onto his face. Elrohir looked at the girl. Her dark brown eyes glistened with fury and fear, as she straddled him. "I demand to know who you are!" She yelled loudly, pressing the blade close enough to barely draw a droplet of blood. "Forgive me, but my name is Elrohir. I'm sure you already know who I am now, don't you?" She studied him carefully, trying to figure it out. His long raven hair, high cheekbones with silver eyes carefully penetrating her, his warm full lips—she had to snap out of it. But the fact that he looked so much like someone she knew frightened her.
"Forgive me, but my name is Menelwen Silverleaf," She began mocking his voice. "And I'm sure I don't already who you are now, do I? You're trespassing." She shot him a fake smile that revealed the beautiful aspects of her face: dimples on her cheeks, a throne of pearly white teeth, and low cheekbones that made her face look more round and girlish. But by all means, she didn't act girlish.
"My name is Lord Elrohir of Rivendell." He told Melli calmly. Elrohir watched her soft brown eyes widen slightly as she threw herself from his body. "I'm not going to be apologizing for doing that. You approached me when I was vulnerable, and—"
"I did not ask for an apology from you, Menelwen." The way he said her name made her skin produce gooseflesh in a heartbeat. "Good, because you're not getting one." She said stubbornly, and turned to pick up her corn. "Do you need help with that?" Elladan asked her, bending down.
From behind the girl, Elrohir smirked. "No, I do not need…help…how did you get from behind me to in front of me so very quickly?" Melli asked. "Mellon, I was never behind you." Elladan purred, reaching out and weaving a strand of her chestnut hair into his hand.
Melli frowned and pushed his hand away sharply. "Stop fooling with me," She growled. "I know you were behind me." Elladan gently placed his hands on the sides of her head and turned her to look behind her. The same elf is still there? She mused, shaking her head in disbelief. "You are the sons of Lord Elrond."