Title: Appraisals
Characters: Legolas, Thranduil, Elrohir and Elladan
Prompt: 040. Sight
Rating: PG
Summary: The twins accompany their parents on their first trip to the Woodland Realm in the north of Eryn Galen.
Eryn Galen, Cerveth T.A. 178
"They come."
Thranduil glanced at his son. Legolas's eyes remained firmly on the approaching party of Elves though the latter was still nigh some five leagues away. The Elvenking willed the tension out of his body. This summer's visit by Elrond and his family would reveal the extent of Legolas's fascination with them. Or rather what had engaged that fascination in the first place.
Oh, the prince was no callow youth to betray himself so easily. Only one who knew him very well would have taken note of his greater than usual interest in the Peredhil following his sojourn in Imladris. He did not talk incessantly about them or champion their honor more ardently than his wont when someone spoke of them in less than respectful terms. But when he did mention them, the king noted a softening in his mien that bespoke far more than casual interest. And while he was not overly outspoken in their defense, his eyes would glitter with displeasure enough to persuade even the most obstreperous of Elves to temper their pronouncements.
It was not as if Legolas had never been so chivalrous before or employed such methods to defuse potentially explosive situations. He once stood as his grandsire's regent for seven years after all and during a time fraught with peril and uncertainty. Nay, it was not his conduct that told the king there was more to his affinity for the Peredhil than mere diplomacy. Rather it was the degree of it.
They waited at the western outskirts of the vast forest that was called Greenwood the Great in the Common Tongue. Their realm lay some sixty leagues inward northeast of the mountains, on the very fringes of the woods nigh to The Long Lake that was fed by the Forest River that ran through the heart of the Silvan Elves' kingdom. Not by the Old Forest Road did journeyers reach the Woodland Realm but by a little-known elven path that bypassed the mountains as it wound northward, broken only by the Enchanted River, which the Wood-elves crossed by ferry.
The riders rapidly covered the remaining distance to the forest edge, their elven steeds swifter than their lesser kindred in Middle-earth save perhaps for the wild horses of the North that were said to have been brought from the West by Oromë, the Huntsman of the Valar. Before long, they were close enough for Thranduil to see their features shadowed though they were by the hoods of their cloaks.
He recognized Elrond easily. There was no mistaking Gil-galad's former herald. Thranduil had fought alongside him on occasion during the War of the Last Alliance. Glorfindel, too, could not be missed. Taller than most Elves in these Hinter Lands, he was an imposing figure whose face and form one did not forget particularly after having witnessed him brutally cleave his way through a throng of foes. Erestor, however, the Elvenking knew only by reputation. But he guessed the slightly built Elf who rode behind Elrond to the right of Glorfindel was the much lauded chief counsellor.
Now the last and only time he had seen Celebrían was when she and her parents briefly sojourned with him and his father Oropher. This was in the last age when Celeborn and Galadriel still lived in Eregion. Who would have thought that the daughter of his kinsman would one day wed Elrond Half-elven? Or that she would present her lord with an elven rarity. Twin sons.
They rode at Elrond's side. Tall for their age and showing traces of their father's broader frame, they were passing fair, Thranduil had to admit. Fairer by far than any Elf he knew save perhaps his own son. He began to say something to Legolas but noticed how the latter was avidly staring at the approaching Elves. He followed the direction of that unrelenting gaze and realized it fell upon the brethren. The king wondered.
"Can you tell Elrond's sons apart?" he idly inquired.
Legolas nodded, not taking his eyes off the twins. "The one right by Lord Elrond is the older, Elladan. The other is Elrohir."
"How can you be certain when they look so alike and at this distance?"
The archer shrugged. "I cannot say, Father. I just – know."
Thranduil pursed his lips. "You said you befriended one of them. I suppose 'twas Elladan."
"On the contrary, it was Elrohir."
The king frowned. Odd. The brethren were still very young. If any could claim to have enough in common with Legolas to surmount the great difference in age and experience between them, Thranduil would have expected it to be the son being groomed to govern Imladris after Elrond.
"His company must have been quite pleasant for you to have spent much time with such a youngling," he ventured.
Legolas glanced at him. "I enjoyed his company very much," he readily owned. "He is forthright, intelligent and noble-hearted." There was a brief pause ere the archer softly added, "And he will be beauteous beyond compare when he is fully grown. They both will."
Thranduil looked sharply at him. "Elrond will not be pleased to know you have designs on his son's virtue," he said.
A grin tugged at the corners of Legolas's mouth. "Surely he would not fault me were his son to freely offer it and I accepted."
The king's frown deepened. "And did he offer it?" Legolas did not reply but only permitted himself a smile. Thranduil sighed. "Ah, well, that would certainly be a trophy worth crowing about," he remarked.
Legolas's smile faded and he looked once more at his sire. "Not a trophy, aran nîn, but a priceless treasure." His eyes gleamed darkly. "And one I do not intend to share if I can help it." Before Thranduil could respond, Legolas gestured toward the Imladrin party and said, "Should we not ride to meet them?"
Thranduil dealt him a severe look before urging his mount forward. His lips curled in a faint smirk, Legolas followed.
He waited patiently as his father exchanged greetings with Elrond and renewed his acquaintance with Celebrían and Glorfindel. Then Erestor was duly introduced as were Elrond's sons.
They lowered their hoods in concert when Elrond presented them to the Elvenking, bowing their heads respectfully as they were named. Legolas's eyes widened slightly upon first sight of the twins' single braids.
To say the fashion suited them was an egregious understatement. With their dark hair drawn back thusly, the sheer symmetry of their faces and nigh perfection of their features were pointed up with startling clarity. It seemed Eru had seen fit to bestow more than their fair share of beauty on these scions of blessed Eärendil even at this early date when they were still poised on the brink of maturity.
In turn, Elrohir was watching his every move while striving not to be too obvious about it. But Legolas schooled himself to speak with Elrond and Celebrían with all due propriety and to warmly greet Elladan. When at last he turned his attention to Elrohir, the youth's countenance brightened considerably.
"You have grown, pen neth"—young one—Legolas remarked. "I can scarcely believe my eyes. You are almost as tall as I."
Elrohir could not be as composed. He nervously glanced at Elladan who had tactfully moved away then looked at Legolas again, seeming at a loss for words now that he was in the archer's presence.
At length, he managed a smile and said, "'Tis so good to see you again, Legolas, and sooner than I ever hoped for."
From the corner of his eye, Thranduil saw his son's entire demeanor gentle. He heard Legolas say, "Aye, your letters cheered me, but they were no more than a poor substitute for your presence. I am pleased beyond words that you have come, Elrohir nîn."
Elrohir was not the only one to react to that possessive address. Thranduil did not blush as the Elf-knight did, but looked at his son in tacit reproach. Legolas nodded his acknowledgement but did not leaven his decidedly affectionate manner with the younger twin.
Thranduil knew then without a shadow of a doubt that the question he sought to answer about his son's conduct was not What? but rather Who?
Glossary:
Cerveth – Sindarin for the seventh month of the year, the period between 23 June and 22 July
aran nín – my king
Elrohir nín – my Elrohir
To be continued...