A/N: Here it is. Thank you all for your patience (and Pikachumomma, for your understanding); your support during the drama, trauma and tragedies of my RL was incredible, and I am so very grateful. I wish I could reply to each and every one of you, but I'm just not that good. Because you were all so patient with my long-winded A/Ns, I'll keep this one short.
Happy Reading, and Blessed Be!
WyrdSmith
ooooooooooooooooooo
CONEFLOWERS
Haldir could not keep himself from smiling as he walked through the familiar pathways of Lothlorien with his truemate dancing beside him. Ithilwen was nearly bubbling with interest in all she encountered. Every plant that caught her eye was touched and smelled and chatted with and, twice, even tasted. Watching the pink, agile tongue of his wicked little mate dip into the tip of a red coneflower while Ithilwen's sparkling eyes peeked up at him through long, sultry lashes had nearly caused the Marchwarden to throw his little temptress over his shoulder and scale the nearest tree for immediate satisfaction of the reaction she had knowingly provoked. Only the lilting laughter of the curious residents of Lothlorien who had observed from a distance stopped him, but just barely. The promise of retaliation lay dark in Haldir's eyes when he wrapped a strong arm around the tiny waist and hauled his delightful mate to stand pressed against his chest, luminous blue eyes laughing into his own as the irrepressible woman wiggled and slid teasingly against the solid proof of her successful seduction that lay heavy and throbbing between them. He watched her eyes grow heavy-lidded as her actions against his vaunted control began to work against her. Fixing his gaze on the lips that delighted and tormented him in equal measure, he slowly leaned down and watched them part in anticipation. At the last moment, he moved slightly to the side, rubbing his cheek against hers as he placed his lips against the ear that peaked through the moonbeam hair, murmuring, "Remember this the next time you chose to tease me in public, my love." Quickly nipping her ear, he then spun her away, back into the flowers that had begun this little challenge, and strolled onward down the path, arms crossed behind him and a smug smile on his face as he heard his delicate beauty swear like a professional soldier as she landed on her rump amidst the multi-colored blooms.
Musical laughter from many observers, hidden and not, echoed throughout this part of the garden as the residents of Lothlorien enjoyed another episode in their newest and most favorite past time. Each of the newcomers was fascinating to observe, but it was always the reactions of the elves closest to them that were most entertaining. Stern, sardonic Haldir had become lighter and brighter with the bonding to the mercurial Ithilwen. Weary Glorfindel shone with wonder now that the incomparable Marcaunon shared his light and life. Little Legolas has begun to open like a flower beneath the warmth of his Eredhion and Sidhenidon. Even the dwarf Gimli, who many remembered from the time the Fellowship had stumbled into their midst, was less burdened and often wore the smile his face seemed best crafted for. The arrival of the amber-eyed wolven Istari Remus and the smoke-eyed prankster Sirius had delighted all who met them with their warmth and vitality. Even the owl Hedwig was a wonder to the residents of the Golden Woods. She had taken a particular liking to their own Lord Celeborn, who was often seen in the company of the newcomers and their mates, walking in his dignified fashion with the glowing white owl perched upon his shoulder.
Life had begun anew for the Eldar race. It was a joy to live again.
ooooooooooooooooooo
BOND INVERSION
Legolas drifted in a sea of warmth and contentment. The truemate bond with Eredhion and Sidhenidon had roared to life during the last hours of the night, bursting forth along with the mind-melting rush of what felt like endless moments of ecstasy that were the culmination of long hours of pleasure his mates had wrung from him after bringing him to their talan. Their bonding had been so protracted, so exquisite, so torturous, that even now his mind could barely accept all that his body had undergone as his devilish mates had turned the full force of their creativity upon their captive elf.
Stretching slightly, he winced in sudden reaction as he became aware of his spine in a way he was not enjoying. He experienced only a few moments of the pain, however, before a soothing hand was placed on his spine and something was murmured softly in Eredhion's distinctive voice. A gentle warmth sank into the pain and eased it to nothing. Color flooded Legolas' face as the hand then moved to settle on his buttocks, gently parting them slightly as another healing spell was sent to sooth the much-abused passage. Although he greatly appreciated the removal of the soreness he had been willfully ignoring, Legolas could not help but bury his hot face into his pillow in mortification.
His pillow chuckled, and warm arms wrapped around his naked back to rub soothing circles with Sidhenidon's large, strong hands. Legolas tried to dig deeper into the warm skin of Sidhenidon's chest, scowling in embarrassment when Eredhion patted him teasingly on the butt before letting his own large hand begin to rub the naked skin that sheltered the area he had just healed. Working very hard to concentrate on being mortified rather than aroused, Legolas tried to wiggle away from the hand on his butt – an action that prompted a very different reaction than the one he had been going for. Rather than taking the hint and allowing Legolas his mortification, his twins seemed to take his resistance as a challenge. Legolas had just enough time to feel the flood of dominance rush at him from both sides of the bond before he found himself hoisted full-length atop a now prone and erect Sidhenidon, staring shocked into gleaming sapphire eyes and unable to move away from the sudden warmth of Eredhion stretched along his back. The transition had been so sudden that Legolas had to take a moment or two to let his mind catch up. When it did, and he fully realized the position he was in, he defiantly forced down his instinctive submission and stared boldly down at Sidhenidon and said wryly, "I suspect this is what Gimli meant when he said I would soon be the creamy filling in a Devil Sandwich."
He was rewarded as humor began to replace the glare of dominance in Sidhenidon's heated gaze. Wicked hands drifted down Legolas' naked sides, exciting shivers and sensitive flinches in the elf atop him. Looking past Legolas at the face of his twin, who still wore a look of pure challenge as he pressed down upon their rebellious elf, Sidhenidon grinned darkly and waited to see how Legolas would react.
Legolas drew a sharp breath, then tentatively pushed back against the engorged cock that was suddenly pressing between his cheeks. Glancing back at Eredhion, he said somewhat breathlessly, "You realize this makes your motivation in healing me somewhat suspect now, don't you?" Eredhion simply dropped his head to whisper harshly in the leaf-shaped ear, "In serving you, we do but serve ourselves, little one." His haze of dominance cracked and shattered as Legolas immediately retorted, "Ha! 'you do but serve yourselves, little one', indeed! More like, you do serve yourselves one little butt."
Eredhion's incredulous eyes met Sidhenidon's sparkling blue before the twins collapsed around their elf in delighted laughter. It would seem all it took to bring out Legolas' inner-smartass was a long night of incredible sexual pleasure.
That was doable.
Legolas, still smiling smugly, was trying to use their distraction to extract himself from between his snickering mates. Considering the fact that he had only managed to rub himself against them, top and bottom, and excite them all further, he was of two minds about the nature of progress. When Eredhion, still smiling widely, suddenly parted Legolas' buttocks and guided himself fully into the still-loosened passage, he used his beloved's shocked silence to growl heatedly against the silken shoulder, "You cannot possibly believe you're going anywhere, my mate." Legolas' moaning whimper was answer enough, as Eredhion ground his hips against the rounded cheeks and, pulling back slightly, began to thrust steadily into his responsive mate.
Once again, Legolas found himself the sole focus of the erotic attentions of his fiery mates; but whereas last night had been all about skill and seduction and protracted pleasure, this morning was about pure, primal pleasure. Every time Eredhion's rigid length plunged back into him, Legolas felt the dizzying shock of pleasure that meant his mate was ruthlessly hitting the bundle of nerves within his body that the twins had awakened him to last night. With every plunge, Legolas' body was pushed firmly into and rubbed along Sidhenidon, who was gripping his hips and thrusting upward in counter-rhythm to his twin. Legolas' rigid cock was now leaking copiously and rubbing torturously against Sidhenidon's with every one of the alternating thrusts from above and below. Sidhenidon's huge hand wrapped firmly around their cocks, holding them together and allowing the slick slide of bodies and the thrusting rhythms to carry them together to orgasm. Legolas' hands were pressed against Sidhenidon's strong shoulders, gripping tightly in an effort to somehow ground himself as his breathing turned to gasping and his vision whited out. The bond between the three was overwhelming him, as he received a building rush of sensation from both sides of the bond, with him caught in the middle and trying to process his own pending orgasm.
With a final, hard snap of hips from Eredhion and a last, decisive, twisting tug from Sidhenidon, Legolas surrendered to the agonizing pleasure. Pressing his head back into Eredhion's sweaty chest, Legolas closed his eyes and screamed as his own orgasm doubled and then trebled through the effects of the bond. He felt Eredhion's hand wrap around his forehead, supporting him as he arced into pained spasms of ecstasy, sobbing in despair as their bodies continued to shudder and tremor together. Finally, the torrent began to ebb, leaving the three newly-bonded lying wrapped around each other, shocked and shaken.
George and Fred stared into each other's eyes, understanding that they were both somewhat frightened by the intensity of what just happened and deeply worried for their beautiful, devastated little mate. There had been so much sensation! It was too much. Even for them, on the ends of the bond, they had caught backlash from the other two that had turned the pleasure into nearly-pain. For Legolas, trapped in the middle of the bond, it had become, literally, an agony of ecstasy. This must not happen again. It must not. And yet, the rush to dominance had been overwhelming when Legolas had challenged them, even though his actions had been minimal, merely teasing. It was as if neither twin could counter the sudden surge of purely primal emotion that seized them and sent them into the dominance display that had resulted in their beloved little mate lying in their arms, sweaty and covered in their essences, with tears rolling from tightly squeezed eyes as his breath came in gasping, broken sobs. Even as they clung together in distress, their bodies continued to spasm in discordant bursts of leftover pleasure.
It was terrifying.
As the two devils tried to comfort and sooth Legolas, they felt an implacable presence glide among them. The need to protect Legolas was all-encompassing, but the Presence allowed them no action. They were helpless and afraid as they, and Legolas, were overwhelmed by Power and fell deeply asleep, to lie tangled and vulnerable on the rumpled bedding.
ooooooooooooooooooo
NEW DYNAMICS
Seated together in Celeborn's airy, main living space, Marcaunon reclined against Glorfindel's broad chest and accepted a sip from his herven's glass. Ever since that first night, when Marcaunon had offered Glory some of the crisp, citrus-flavored soda water, Glorfindel had chosen it at every opportunity. Celeborn seemed to like it, too, as his look of appreciation showed each time he took a sip from his own, icy glass.
Celeborn was seated across from them, leaning comfortably back in a large, woven chair with one long leg extended and propped on the center table. The three had taken this time to simply visit together, allowing the two, old friends to visit and letting this new dynamic settle into place. Ithilwen and Haldir were off walking somewhere, and no one had seen Legolas or the twins yet this morning. Remus and Sirius were off visiting with Gimli and Taorin. It was a quiet morning, made the more so by the Lady Galadriel's exhausted sleep.
Celeborn had just finished a lighthearted account of the payback rendered upon his Lady's posterior by the twins. Glorfindel and Marcaunon joined him in his laughter, amused that the Lady had further been tormented by the sensual waves that had pulsed through the handprint as the Bonding of the three commenced. She had apparently been reduced to begging Celeborn for his attentions, which he had refused. He had made it very clear to her many times that he would never share the pleasures of the body with her if her arousal was due to spying on the carnal activities of others, and last night most certainly qualified. He had also prevented her from easing her own distress, although he did not go into detail on his methods and they did not ask. It was sufficient to know that the Lady had, indeed, suffered.
Marcaunon felt deep compassion and respect for Celeborn. The Eldar Lord was everything one of his race and status should be: dignified, kind, stern, wise, strong, gentle and in every way a wonderful person to know. His bond as truemate to the Lady Galadriel seemed more a punishment to the Elven Lord, as by all accounts his Lady had long ago abandoned all efforts at wise and beneficent rule and had instead indulged her whims and childishness and played with the lives and deaths of everyone around her. Only Celeborn's unwavering attention had prevented wholescale disaster from erupting out of the Lady's machinations. Marcaunon could have compared her to the unlamented Dumbledore, except that even as he had confronted her, all of his senses told him that the Lady was truly not evil. She was still somehow pure, as only an elf can be. But she was morally as if still a child, despite her vast age. She had no more wish to do right or wrong than the average, self-motivated five-year-old of any race.
Celeborn had just met Marcaunon's compassionate gaze and had begun to smile in gentle acknowledgment of the young man's insight when a violent sense of alarm slammed into all three males and sent them to their feet. Celeborn felt the wards of Lothlorien vibrate in a clash of chords he had heard only once before – when Glorfindel had returned to life. He had no more time to think, before Marcaunon summoned their weapons to the two elves and then seized them both before apparating from the room with a sharp crack.
ooooooooooooooooooo
WE MEET AGAIN
Appearing together in the bedroom of an unknown talan, it only took the two experienced elves moments to assess the situation. They saw the unconscious, naked figures of Eredhion and Sidhenidon huddled protectively over Legolas, and registered the fact that two, unknown elves were standing over the three with their hands extended. In the barest moments that it took for Celeborn and Glorfindel to see the threat and raise their swords, Demon had already launched a ferocious magical attack and was halfway across the room with his sword flashing. A second later, and the two elves were at his side, and reaching for the blood of the two who threatened their family.
Another second saw the three standing across the room, disarmed, silenced and gently confined by magical bonds that were invisible even to Elven eyes. The two figures standing over the bed had not moved. Demon had been forced to retreat, and so Glorfindel felt Marcaunon's panic through their bond. He would have most likely mirrored it, but he began to feel …. something …. familiar. With the limited movement the gentle magical bonds allowed, he looked over at Celeborn, and saw a similar recognition on the Lord's face. Celeborn turned to meet his gaze, and made the sign for 'prayer' with his elegant hands. And then, Glorfindel remembered.
Dying… meeting people who were so much more than simply Elves … long discussions about life and fate and the needs of the world … a rush of purest Power moving through him … so much light … and awaking again, alive, naked, staring at the sea as it foamed around his body as he lay on the beach of fine, white sand …
Turning wondering eyes to the two figures at the bed, Glorfindel reached out and placed a reassuring hand on Marcaunon. Once again, he turned, this time to capture his mate's gaze and demand that the young man use his mental abilities to see into Glorfindel's mind. As he felt Marcaunon's immediately compliance and the careful touch that told him Marcaunon was there, he showed his memories and then left a single word echoing through his mind.
"Valar."
Marcaunon's presence retreated from his mind after a burst of understanding, and immediately glared worriedly at the two Valar who remained motionless by his defenseless family. 'NO!' he thought fiercely. 'They are NOT defenseless! They have me! They have us.' He knew without doubt that Glorfindel, regardless of his reverence for these beings (and Harry's own, it was true), would join him without question if he had to defend his family from their attentions. Glancing at Celeborn, he read both wonder and concern in the beautiful eyes, and also saw a dawning determination as the Lord's jaw firmed and a hard look was sent his way. With a slight nod, Celeborn joined their efforts, should they be needed. For now, the three could only wait, and watch, and assess.
Glorfindel's hand slid from Marcaunon's shoulder to clasp his mate's hand firmly. He was pleased to see Marcaunon extend his other hand to Celeborn, who glanced at it in surprise and then looked to Glorfindel in question. At his old friend's nod, Celeborn accepted Marcaunon's hand, and the three stood united, sharing comfort for now but prepared to link their abilities and attack if needed.
Thank the Valar, it would not be needed. And in this case, truer words were never spoken.
With a shared breath, the two motionless figures by the bed relaxed, dropping their hands and turning together to face the three defenders. The one on the far side of the bed, a female, waved her hand and warm blankets covered the slowly-relaxing forms of the twins and Legolas. The other, a male, released Glorfindel, Marcaunon and Celeborn from their confinement and said simply, "Peace. Your family needed us, else they would have been lost. It was partly our fault that such occurred. It was our duty and our pleasure to act."
Celeborn and Glorfindel dropped their heads in respect, bowing slightly as they released Marcaunon's hands. A lesser elf may have thrown themselves prone to the floor, but such a person would never have become an Ancient Elven Lord of a powerful Realm, nor been so treasured in life as to have been returned to the life he had left through honorable death. Thus, the two elders simply offered their reverence and left it at that.
Marcaunon's reaction was more surprising. He stared piercingly at the two Valar, unafraid of their immense power, and silently commanded them to meet his eyes. When they did, a fact which further surprised Glorfindel and Celeborn, silence feel heavily in the room for a few moments, before Marcaunon blinked and the tension drained away. Raising a shaking hand to his head, Marcunon then said unsteadily, "Thank you. Will you explain?" He glanced at his family in concern, and was greatly reassured at the relaxed breaths and comfortable arrangement of the three in the bed.
Celeborn watched the young Istari with his respect growing exponentially. This impossible young man stood unfazed in the presence of gods, and dared to suppose that they would be willing to explain themselves and their actions! He could clearly see that Marcaunon did not do so out of arrogance or pride; the young Istari truly felt that his behavior was normal and reasonable. He shook his head in awe as the Valar smiled at the raven-haired man and simply nodded in unison. He started a bit as a long, graceful bench appeared behind him, extending behind his companions as well. The Valar simply seated themselves at the foot of the bed, a sight that both Elves found equally shocking and comforting. It seemed that, in the presence of Marcaunon, even the gods became approachable.
The male god snorted slightly and glanced smilingly at him, as if he had heard his thoughts and found them amusing. Accustomed to this behavior from Galadriel, Celeborn instinctively recoiled and hardened his shields. The look of sorrow in the god's eyes confused him. Was he offended?
To this thought, the god said, "No, Celeborn. I am not offended that you try to guard your thoughts from me. I am saddened, that you have been trained to such an instinctive reaction by Galadriel's behavior. Such was never desired for you, and I hold deep regret. This, too, needs to be addressed."
"But first," the female continued, "we must explain what happened here today. When we brought these three together, it was not the first triadic truemate bond we have joined. Still, all others, few though they were, consisted of three Elves, and, in two cases in another world, two Elves and one Istari. We did not take into account the sheer, magical power that would be running through the bond, this time from the outside in to the center, where Legolas resides. The others placed the Istari in the center, with her power running outward to her mates."
The three listening began to realize what must have happened to Legolas and the twins. Celeborn's hushed whisper was husky with horror as he said, "It would have been as if Legolas stood at the apex of two rivers rushing from twin mountains. He could have been crushed! He could have drowned!"
Marcaunon's eyes were wide with pain as he gripped Glorfindel's hand and said harshly, "What happened?" Glorfindel, returning the strength of Marcaunon's grip with his own, simply watched closely, hazel eyes hard. His words were not needed.
The goddess sighed mournfully and admitted, "It was as you imagine. We intervened just in time to prevent disaster and put a halt to the cause." Seeing the rage forming upon the three faces, she hurriedly added, "NOT to the bond. We ended the conflict."
"How?" This time, Glorfindel spoke. His jaw was tightly clenched as he glared at the Valar, a thing he would never have imagined himself doing before this moment. The only way to ease the rush of power to the center – Legolas - would be to ease the amount of power. Had the Valar stolen some of the twins magic from them?
The god and goddess exchanged long looks, communicating silently, before the god turned to gaze upon the three with eyes that showed he had accepted his actions and was content with his choice. "We could have done as you suspect. It was our first thought. But we had no wish to take more from these children, nor would such an action have benefited the coming events of this world. To keep to your analogy, we could have lowered the mountains to ease the harm to the valley between, but we did not."
"Instead, we raised the valley, and made a new mountain."
The goddesses words dropped quietly into the room, but by the shock from their impact, she could have flung them down like boulders. The Elven Lord, the Warrior Elf, and the Warrior Istari froze, completely, utterly stunned by the sheer import of what the Valar had done.
The twins were the mountains. Legolas was the valley between.
The Valar had made of the valley another mountain.
They made Legolas a mountain.
The mountains are the Istari.
They made Legolas an Istari.
Later, Glorfindel and Celeborn would laugh as they recalled the delighted amusement on the almost-faces of the Valar at Harry's explosive exhale and long, drawn-out, "Fuuuuccck meee!" It would be much later, though. For now, the two were still struggling to grasp the fact that Legolas Greenleaf, second heir to the Lord of Lothlorien, was the first Elven Istari. Ever.
Celeborn raised an unsteady hand and ran it through his long hair, saying with finely-honed sarcasm, "It occurs to me that Thranduillion and Galadriels' opinions that Legolas is boring becomes exponentially less correct with each passing day." Left unspoken was the heartfelt relief that Legolas had abdicated his role as Thranduillion's heir and accepted his place in Celeborn's family before this latest event. The young elf would never have believed Celeborn's sincerity in the offer had he waited even a day. The thought of Thranduillion's use of the young new Istari had Legolas remained the King's son made Celeborn shudder, and cast a speculative eye at the Valar.
To his unspoken question, the goddess seemed to smile. "No, Lord Celeborn. Your welcome of Legolas into your family and your heart was entirely your own wisdom and was not influenced by us. That you wrote your intentions regarding Eredhion and Sidhenidon into your journals just this morning is further testament to your good heart and careful rule. We were unaware of the ramifications of our inattention to detail until last night's bonding of these three. The event of this morning forced our immediate action. You may know in your heart, and tell your new heirs, that your decision was made solely on the basis of Legolas himself, and had nothing at all to do with his new abilities."
Marcaunon spoke as if to himself, "We must train him immediately to control the magic. Most human wizards begin to learn at age eleven; Legolas is … what? …. two millennia old? Three? How can we even begin to train him without his resisting it?" He turned blazing, green eyes upon the Valar, and the god found himself resisting the urge to flinch. "You owe him more than just Power. You owe him control, and instinctive understanding. There's much we can teach, but he is well past the age for a person from any race to be expected to fumble after his magic like a baby learning to use a spoon!"
The goddess was taken aback. "Surely you do not truly expect further gifts from us?" She recoiled at the rage Marcaunon turned upon her.
"Gifts? You call these gifts? The only gifts you have given my family and me are our soul mates, and they are gifts beyond imagining in their scope and place in our lives. The fact that you couldn't even do that right without endangering one of the soulmates and both my brothers is a bit of a negative for you, don't you think?" His sarcasm sliced deep, and the glaring agreement of Glorfindel and Celeborn deepened the wound.
"But, Lady, if you are implying that ripping my siblings and I from one world that we had just managed to save from magical holocaust with barely a span of days to plan before dropping us into another world that hovers on the edge of its own Armageddon, then allowing your own conceit to keep you from little details like, oh, let's see, will our one worthwhile gift to these people KILL THE INNOCENT elf who bonded with my brothers, thus killing them, thus assuredly causing a horrific cascade of events that would have decimated us all and probably ruined the hopes of the Bright Races to survive Sauron's forces, then you have a greatly exaggerated sense of your own bloody SELF IMPORTANCE!" By this point, Marcaunon was on his feet and practically towering over the goddess, who was leaning away slightly from the force of his anger. She looked to the god and was unsurprised that he gazed back at her with reprimand written clearly across the face that only she could see. It seemed that the flaw in the nature of her godhood had emerged again. She sighed in regret, and turned back to look coolly upon the three, angry males who glared at her. Distantly, she wondered how she had lived so long as to find herself in a time when lesser beings dared confront her in such a manner. She knew, however, that the god would say this was a good sign, and that she would agree – later.
"Enough," the god quietly spoke. "You are correct, Marcaunon. In all that you have said, you are correct. We agree to give Legolas instinctive control and understanding of his abilities. I believe that this may be the course of wisdom, anyway. It seems to me that much harm has come to those who had no control over their powers, in many ways. Further, on your world as on others, the learning institutions that should have been dedicated to training the young became places to recruit or conscript them, instead. Perhaps, as these abilities grow on this world, the nature of Elves will give greater balance to this new power, and the inherent understanding of this power will lead to wisdom in its use." With that, the Valar turned as one to face Legolas, each extending their right arm, hands cupping over the sleeping form as the channels were opened within his mind that would allow Legolas to control, understand and use the magic he had been given. Within moments, it was done, and the Valar turned back to face the three watchers. They smiled at what they saw.
Both Glorfindel and Celeborn had moved supportively to Marcaunon. Glorfindel had the young Istari pressed to his chest, one arm around the slim waist. Celeborn stood slightly in front of the two, facing the Valar, as if he were willingly placing himself between the two he protected and the gods themselves. It was a telling posture, and showed the Valar that their next decision was the correct one to make on behalf of the Elven Lord who had endured an untenable situation for far too long.
Celeborn froze as the attention of the Valar focused upon him. He was not blind to what his position meant, and he was fine with that. His concern was not for himself, but for his world. It must have shown in his thoughts or his face, as the god asked softly, "What troubles you, child?" The simple compassion in the indescribable voice brought tears to the Lord's throat, and he had to clench his jaw for a moment before he could speak. He stared at the small figure of Legolas on the bed, desperately worried for the gentle elf. For his sake, he had to speak. Raising his eyes to the god, having an instinctive desire to avoid the goddess, he said quietly, "Galadriel has great power. She has tremendous control. She has always understood her abilities. She is an elf, one of the Eldar, in fact." The god had simply nodded at each point, understanding now where this was leading. Celeborn swallowed, then spoke the words that would condemn him as the betrayer of his truemate. "She does great evil, and as long as it is amusing, she does not care."
The silence in the room was profound, and he felt it showed that the Valar, Marcaunon and Glorfindel condemned him for his words. He was overwhelmed when Marcaunon and Glorfindel appeared to either shoulder, each wrapping an arm around his waist and pressing against him in warm support. Blinking tears back as his soul wailed at his agonized conscience, he accepted, just this once, the comfort that was offered and leaned back against the two with a nearly-silent, trembling sigh. Keeping his eyes on the floor, he awaited the judgment of the Valar. In betraying his truemate, he had done the unthinkable.
It was with bewilderment that he heard the words of the goddess, uttered not in the ringing tones of condemnation he had expected, but softly and with sorrowful compassion – for him. "Celeborn, you most of all have been wronged by we the Valar. All these thousands upon thousands of years, you have been faithful and true and loving to your truemate, serving your people with all honor and love and wisdom as well. You have balanced the needs of your people and the excesses of your truemate and have never asked to be relieved of either duty. Even now, faced with the truth of the nature of Galadriel, you choose the needs of another over yourself, and expect to be cast down for it. Celeborn, I am so sorry to have burdened you so."
He shook his head in incomprehension, lost to the goddess's meaning. She spoke as if this was her guilt, not his own. He did not understand. Breathing heavily, he looked to the god – and was wrapped in the strength of the god's love and pride in him. If not for Marcaunon and Glorfindel, who held him securely upright despite their own confusion, he would have stumbled beneath the weight of the god's regard.
"Celeborn, it is time we balance this scale as well. To do so, I must explain something that we had hoped you would never need to know." He hesitated a moment, then looked at Glorfindel and said firmly, "Glorfindel, my favored soul, I charge you with the sharing of the truths I am to utter. I will not allow the actions we took, and those we will take, to further burden Celeborn. It is past time he is allowed to enjoy the treasures of life that he ensures his people enjoy." He waited for Glorfindel's slow nod before he turned back to Celeborn. He spoke simply, in quiet tones that made his revelations that much more incredible. "Because of Galadriel's abuse of power, you are worried that the Elven nature will corrupt any elf who has magical power. But the truth, Celeborn, is that Galadriel is not a full elf."
The three males simply stared at him. His words made no sense. Galadriel, the Lady of the Woods, the personification of what it meant to be a royal elleth – was not a full elf? What?
The god smiled sadly at them and quietly continued. "Galadriel is half-Elven … and half-Valar." Their shocked expressions were not unexpected. Poor Celeborn looked as if he had been told that the world was ending at daybreak. For him, it may well be; his world, as he knew it, was certainly shattering.
"Galadriel is my daughter." This came from the goddess, whispered into the room as if voicing the words aloud for the first time. The look on her face, if only they could have seen it, was one of deepest sorrow. "She is my daughter, and her father was Noldoran, known to many as Finwe, High King of the Noldor. I will not share the reasons for our union, just that it occurred, and that Galadriel is the result. I should have kept her with me. I knew that my godhood would seep into her nature, and that her own aspects as a half-Valar would limit her understanding of mortals, and even of the ancient Eldar race. But she has such joy in the natural world! In the Shadow Lands and Valinor, there is less to keep her interest, and despite her abilities, she is not given to cerebral pursuits. I wanted her happy – so I convinced the Valar to allow her a life among mortals. Her first millennia or two were so successful that I believed it could continue. I chose to allow her to play with lives as an elfling does with toys. And I used you, Celeborn. I chained you to her through a bond you did not deserve, and yet you never waivered once."
Celeborn was nearly catatonic. He heard the words and understood, but how could he possibly comprehend this? His entire life, so many thousands upon thousands of years, spent trying to honor a truemate bond – with who? Was Galadriel even his truemate? Was that why he had never felt the joy in their connection that the few other truemates he knew seemed to share? It had been so long since the last truemates he knew had gone to Valinor that he had managed to forget the lack he found in his own, until the arrival of Marcaunon and his family. The changes in Glorfindel and Haldir had stunned him; they were alight with the joy they felt …. a joy that he, Celeborn, had not truly felt even once. What did this mean? "What does this mean?" His pained voice shocked him. He had not meant to speak. He barely even recalled that he could.
Glorfindel and Marcaunon wrapped him even tighter, pressing into him, holding him, supporting him with all they could possibly offer. He felt their furious glares burning into the goddess, and warmth began to wake him up again …. warmth in his soul, for their friendship, for their caring.
The god allowed them their rage, accepting their glares at his companion, willing to accept them at himself. It was true that Valar were omnipotent, but they were not omniscient. They knew much – so very, very much – but even they were susceptible to the needs of their hearts. And, although some gods and goddesses had no compassion or regret, the Valar were of a different ilk. These mortals deserved their answers, and, like the others come of late to their attention from this extraordinary group, it was time for Celeborn, too-long held prisoner to the whims of the gods, to be released from his torment and given a gift.
"It means, Celeborn, that you are free. Your suspicions are correct. The truemate bond you shared with Galadriel was false; laid upon you by the goddess in an effort to win happiness for her daughter. I will say she did not mean you any harm, nor did she pick you lightly for this duty. Your soul proved to be the one that would have truemated Galadriel had she been fully Elven. It is why the bond could be laid upon you. But you never felt the joy of the bond, as was your right. Instead, you felt only the burden. And yet, despite the fact that the one you believed was your truemate was such a terrible trial to you and your people, you protected both, sometimes from each other, and you never waivered in your honor and your fealty to Galadriel." He saw Celeborn's brow draw heavy and his eyes darken, and held up a slightly-glowing hand to halt the confession before it began. "Do not consider the occasional lovers you took as comfort – so few over so many thousands of years, Celeborn! – to be betrayals or weaknesses. They were necessary, or you would have fallen to the despair that sometimes tried to take you down. Without those lovers, all would have been lost long ago. You did not betray Galadriel; you know full well the sport she made of far too many, in her bed and in worse ways. You have no stains on your soul, Celeborn, and I will not allow you to believe that you do." The force of Truth rang in his voice, and that small part of the Elven Lord's soul was eased.
"What happens now? What do I do now?" Celeborn could not help the plaintive tone in his voice. He had never even allowed himself to truly consider a life without Galadriel. The closest he had come was at dinner yesterday, watching Marcaunon's newly-arrived fathers and enjoying the life that sparkled around the garden simply from these six, wonderful new people. With a small smile, he added Hedwig. Surely, she was a person, too, albeit a feathered one.
None of the three were prepared for the joy that showed in the auras of the Valar as they answered him, the goddess speaking first. "Now, Celeborn, we fix this mess, and you get the gift you should have had all along! Galadriel is already home; the false bond is gone. Your near-catatonia a few moments ago was when I severed the bond I laid upon you. That you did not notice – says so much. I will grieve in private for the harm I have done you, but for now I take joy in telling you that my daughter is home and you and your people are free. She will not meddle again."
Celeborn could not help himself; the habit of the ages strong in his character. "Will she be all right? Will she be safe, and happy?"
The goddess's expression softened, or seemed to, and the eyes they could not see gazed at him with love and gratitude. "Your duty to her is done, child. But yes, she will be safe, and eventually, she will be happy. In truth, she has not been happy since her youth in this world; all else has been simple entertainment." The words seemed cold, but the voice was far from it.
"Now, my favored soul, you have a choice to make," the god said seriously. Celeborn and the others focused intently on him. "You may remain free and unencumbered, allowed to enjoy all of the variety that will be offered to you as an unmarried, unmated Elven Lord." There was clearly an unspoken consequence to this choice, one that seemed to involve Marcaunon as the god's attention flickered briefly to the young man still pressed to Celeborn's back. Celeborn said gravely, "If it is to be heard, I would hear it all, as will Marcaunon and Glorfindel. I am weary of godly secrets."
Surprisingly, the bold words won a smile of approval from the god, and even the goddess seemed to glow a little at this further proof of Celeborn's strong character. The god's next words were unexpected, although not as shocking as may have been had they not already weathered a day of unparalleled revelations. "Your truemate, the real one, the only one with whom you will ever experience the joy of the bond like your companions, and these three," gesturing behind him to the deeply-sleeping figures on the bed, "is within Lothlorien. If you wish to remain free, Celeborn, you must send that one away."
Silence, as Celeborn, Glorfindel and Marcaunon considered. It didn't take any of them long; the glance toward Marcaunon had revealed much. Celeborn's actual truemate was associated with Marcaunon, and the only unmated people who could fit those parameters were Remus or Sirius. At Marcaunon's harshly indrawn breath, both Celeborn and Glorfindel reached comforting arms to the young man. There was zero chance that Celeborn would voluntarily bring even one more moment of loss to that young man or his family. His choice was already made.
Besides, a chance at rampant dalliance was nothing like what Celeborn yearned for from life. He had just spent several thousands of years in a relationship that had managed to remain shallow and unfulfilling despite the gease of a soulbond made by the gods. He was not an elf who wished for variety of bedpartners; he wanted only one lover in his life, so long as that person and he shared the deeply loving, joyful, lifechanging bond that seemed to be ready and waiting for him – finally.
He did not even need to speak; his decision was clear, as was his contentment with his choice. Marcaunon would have no need for guilt; this was no sacrifice at all. The Valar simply nodded in unison and raised their arms in benediction. The goddess cast a last glance at the sleeping forms on the bed, and faded out of the room and their world. The god remained behind a moment more, seeming to gaze with deep love and joy at the six people in the room. As he, too, faded, his whispered words hung in the air like the blessing they were, "Live happy, my children. I will watch over your progeny. Your numerous, remarkable progeny."
oooooooooooooooooooo
WAKING
Alone in their bedroom, Sidhenidon and Eredhion watched with worry as Legolas stirred in his sleep, moaning slightly as he shifted. They had awakened to Marcaunon, who had stayed only long enough to drop a kiss on each forehead, lingering over Legolas, and to tell them that the dream they had shared was not a dream. It had really happened. They had no idea why Marcaunon knew about, but presumed the Valar had summoned him when they elevated Legolas. Or possibly, it was simply their incomparable brother, whose instinct for the welfare of his family was unrivalled.
Their orders were to stay in the talan and rest; to care for Legolas and call for any help they needed or anything they wanted. After threatening to bind them into their home if they didn't agree (and even with all three of them being bonded Istari, they still could not have defeated a determined Marcaunon), he accepted their promise and joined the smirking Glorfindel, who had watched from the bedroom doorway while keeping an eye on someone who was apparently in their front room. They had heard the door close and felt the gentle vibrations of three sets of feet crossing the porch and descending the stairs, before focusing all of their wonder and attention on their little elf.
They had been completely terrified when they lost consciousness, knowing that Legolas was in torment and that powerful invaders had entered their home. Even in the dreamworld, they had attacked the two figures that appeared to them, desperately keeping Legolas sheltered between them. The fact that their elf had remained unconscious even in the dreamscape had nearly undone them entirely. Only when the male dropped to the floor …. the ground … well, the bottom of the dreamscape and sent a pulse through his hand to Legolas, completely bypassing the twins' defenses, had Legolas stopped moaning and begun to relax slightly from the pained seizure that had gripped him. That had caused the twins to re-evaluate, which gave the invaders time to talk, which gave the twins time to recognize them as the two who had first shown them Legolas during the imprinting ….
When the twins fully understood the ramifications of what the inverted power structure of their bond was doing to Legolas, they were ready to suicide, but would not do so because that, too, would have harmed their mate. The Valars' solution, to make Legolas the very first Elven Istari, had seemed like … well…. like a godsend. They would gladly have accepted a reduction in their powers; would have agreed to become squibs, or elves, or trolls – anything to save their little elf and prevent further pain to the gentle soul that owned them so completely. To have the gods raise Legolas up, rather than knocking them down, had been overwhelming.
Now, they just had to wait to see how Legolas received the news. Would he be excited? Furious? Terrified? Ecstatic? The answer to all of those questions was an emphatic affirmative. He would be all of that and more, at first. Hell, they were all of that and more. But the possibilities…! And, frankly, the idea of the fun they could have and havoc they could wreak with Legolas having powers too was enough to keep them grinning madly. Glancing at each other, they abruptly removed the crazed grins and focused again on their mate. It wouldn't do for his first sight upon waking to be them grinning like they were nutters.
Although, Legolas might pop a crazy grin or two himself, when he got to the part where they figured out the best way to give Thranduillion the news.
ooooooooooooooooooo
1 OR 2, EITHER/OR, WHICH ONE AM I FATED FOR?
Stepping off the stairs to the Devils' talan, Celeborn walked between Marcaunon and Glorfindel, who had refused to leave his side or to allow him to leave theirs. There was much to do. His people had to be informed. Galadriel's absence had to have been noticed by now; her staff was quite attentive due to her erratic ways. Oh, Blessed Night, he had to inform her staff! What to do with her things? Had they even remained? He had to check, but did not truly want to enter their talan and see her absence for himself. Not alone. Huh, he was alone. He knew she was gone; the bond was not there, gripping his spine like … well, like a vicious wife. The wards of Lothlorien told him she was not there. His soul told him she was not there. The Valar told him she was not there.
"Celeborn, she's not there." He simply nodded at the seamless continuation of his thoughts, then looked askance at Glorfindel. His golden-haired friend grinned sideways at him, wrapping a strong arm around his back as they walked. On his other side, Marcaunon held Celeborn's hand, quietly supportive, showing Celeborn even more of the remarkable nature that won this young man the intense loyalty of so many, including two hundred of Celeborn's own warriors … and, truth be known, Celeborn himself.
Pulling his friend into a one-armed hug, Glorfindel relaxed his arm to allow Celeborn to keep walking but did not release his oldest friend. He knew full well that his friend was nearly panicking. How could he not be? Given even an enth of the same situation, the average person would panic. Fortunately, Celeborn was not average; he was extraordinary, and Glorfindel was delighted that his steady, honorable, dignified friend was finally free of the unstable Galadriel. That alone would have made Glorfindel host celebratory parties and dinners for decades. The fact that Celeborn's real truemate awaited his friend, and that person was one of Marcaunon's fathers, ensured that the House of the Golden Flower may well become known as the House of Drunken Revelry.
He wondered when it would occur to his old friend that being truemated to Marcaunon's father would make Celeborn technically Glorfindel's father-in-law. He couldn't wait!
"Where do you want to go first, Celeborn? The people can wait a bit; I've already sent a message to Ithilwen and Haldir and they're handling that aspect for now. Pre-emptive damage control. Ithilwen is unsurprised, not that any of us are surprised by that, of course! So, we can either go to your talan to look around and help the reality sink in a bit … or we can go to dinner."
Dinner. Sirius and Remus would be at dinner. With him. One of them was his truemate, his real truemate, and they would be at dinner. Which was now. Or he could hide. What? Not hide. Go to his talan. He could go to his talan. But he might run into Sirius on the pathways. Or Remus. Or….
"Why am I staring at my feet?" Celeborn asked politely. It seemed odd; he didn't recall bending down to look at his feet.
Glorfindel replied with amusement, "Because you started to hyperventilate, I pushed you to the bench and Marcaunon shoved your head between your knees. My compliments on your flexibility, by the way. Your truemate is going to appreciate it greatly!"
Celeborn dimly registered a thud, followed by Glorfindel's yelp, but his thoughts had begun to spin again. His truemate would appreciate what? My flexibility. My flexibility? What… why?... oh. Oh.
"Breathe, Celeborn. Slowly. In. And out. In. And out." Marcaunon's gentle baritone urged him. Apparently he had begun hyperventilating again. Why was he doing that?
"Remember that pattern, Celeborn. It's important. There'll be a test later – I'm certain of it." Glorfindel's laughing voice sounded on his other side, followed by another distinct thud, louder this time, and Glorfindel's hissed, "Damn it, Marcaunon, that one really hurt!"
"Good!" Marcuunon growled, rubbing circles on Celeborn's back as the elf started to sway and gasp for breath again. He really felt badly for the poor, terrified Elven Lord. He knew the elf was to all intents a King (more so than Thranduillion, for certain!), and that he was also a warrior and, hell, just being married to Galadriel for several millennia would be a testament to the mithril balls of the elf in front of him, but right now Celeborn was just a scared, overwhelmed person about to meet someone he had dreamed about his entire, incredibly long life. That would freak out anyone.
Having your oldest friend mock you as it happened was just not cool. Glory was so not getting any tonight! Glaring his threat over Celeborn's bent head at his snickering mate, he watched as Glorfindel absorbed the threat and abruptly grew up again.
Glorfindel leaned down and spoke quietly to Celeborn. Within moments, the frightened elf was gone and the Lord of Lothlorien was back. Celeborn accepted Glorfindel's hand as he stood, then turned and pulled Marcaunon into a gentle hug. Leaning down, he whispered in the surprised young man's ear, "Go easy on him, young one. He's been joyful since he met you, and now he finally gets to be happy for me. It's making him stupid." He smiled into the raven-dark hair as Marcaunon huffed a laugh into his chest, then surrendered the tempting imp to his glaring mate.
Heading toward the dining area, Celeborn grinned over his shoulder at his possessive best friend, "Fear not, Glorfindel. You may keep your delightful mate all to yourself. I have my own to hunt."
And as he joined the elves migrating toward the tables, Celeborn wondered if his mate would be the warmly rugged, intelligent, amber-eyed Remus, or the slimly-exotic, smoky-eyed, tempestuous Sirius.
Hmmmm. Looked like a win/win, to him.
ooooooooooooooooooo
