disclaimers: i, unfortunately, dont own LOTR. The god Tolkien does.
This is yaoi. Relationships between boys and other boys.
summary: After being constantly abused by his father, Legolas runs away from home and into the arms of Elrond. (in the sequel, it will contain LegolasxElrond with LegolasxAragorn. O.o, a fight over the perfect blonde @_@) Also, a rather bastardized Haldir. (whom will cause angst. O_~)
Um..forgive me but I've only seen LOTR and I once read the other books but that was in 5th grade *scratches her head* which was seven years ago. So bear with me! *grins* Lets see what else? Legolas is older than Arwen in this fic. *shrugs* thats not important but oh well. ^_~
Note: It takes more than a few chapters for them to develop feelings. Elvish words in 'blah'
BETWEEN US
The wind blew serenely over the Elven city of Rivendell, trees swaying in the perpetual breeze that seemed to engulph the entire of Rivendell. Colorful butterflies flew around the fragrant flowers, the perfumed blossoms in their full righteousness. The sun's rays peeked above the horizon, touching the golden underbellies of the white puffs of clouds. Rivendell seemed to glow, as it did nightly, with an etheral essence.
Numerous Elves of starkingly breathtaking beauty subsided in the fair city, living their lives without many worries. A trill of an Elvish song drifted along the air currents, touching the hearts of those who had woken earlier than their companions. The trickling sluggishly dripping from the steep boulders caused a sense of serenity and contentment to wash over the land.
The Lord of Rivendell peered across the expanse of the city from the terrace of his home, dark brown hair softly playing in the airwaves. He closed his piercing blue eyes, taking in the tranquility the new day was bringing. However, his peaceful interlude was interrupted by the sounds of horse-hooves. Elrond's brows furrowed. He was not expecting any visitors.
Elrond descended to the main level of his home, careful not to waken his children. Though, Elladan and Elhoir were each two millenia, they were as childish as a five hundred year old. Arwen, his darling daughter, was half that and an upstart in her own right. A smile touched Elrond's lips at the thought. Arwen was so much like her mother Celebrian, it pained Elrond at times to see her. Though, it was all in the past, a millenia ago.
Elrond peered at the rider, eyes growing wider at the site. The Elf unmounted from the snow white horse, removing the green hood of his cloak. Elrond stifled the gasp that threatened to betray him. Standing before him was the Prince of Mirkwood, Legolas Greenleaf but what startled him more was the disray the prince was in. His clothes were mud stained and torn, blood discoloring a few places were obvious wounds had been re-opened. The sky blue eyes were dulled in pain, a single cut running along the high cheekbones. The flaxen blonde hair was disheveled, the braid that tied his bangs coming undone.
Legolas, merely sixteen hundred and just of age, raised those fear-filled cerulean orbs to meet those of the Lord's. Legolas didn't speak, barely able to maintain some state of dignity as weariness and throbbing hurt threatened to inflict him. Legolas's pride betrayed him as he pitched forward, landing in Elrond's arms.
Elrond's eyes flashed with anger, realizing how this had happened. "Thranduil," he seethed, casting glares in the direction of Mirkwood. Elrond gently lifted the light body into his arms and carried him inside, thankful for just this once that his children were not morning risers. Elrond passed through the corridors, leading to the healing bay. Once there, he laid the boy onto a bed. He sighed, taking a bottle of herbs and pultices.
Stripping aside the fragments of clothing that covered the much-too-thin frame, Elrond grimaced, his dislike of the Elven King growing more. Bruises marred the otherwise perfect flesh, dried blood flecked near wounds of new, hiding the ones of old. Elrond tenderly dabbed at the wounds, applying his healing skills to try and give the boy comfort when he woke.
How could Thranduil do this to his youngest son? Was he really that heartless? It was clear that Legolas did nothing to incur his father's wrath so why? Why had Thranduil beat his son so severly? Elrond watched the myriad emotions flicker across the handsome face, frowning. Legolas had visted only a few times to Rivendell, most of those times were spent with Elladan and Elrohir whom got along well with the younger Elf. Elrond smoothed aside a wayward strand of blonde hair, deciding he would have to fix the boy up when his wounds were bandaged.
Elrond gazed in rapt wonderment at Legolas. Had it taken seven hundred years for Legolas to finally realise that his father had snapped? That, even with the grief of losing his wife, Thranduil should never have exacted his pain upon Legolas? Elrond softly touched Legolas's cheek, smiling when the blonde ever so slightly nuzzled his hand. Elrond sat back, finishing the bindings on Legolas's body. The wounds would heal quickly enough, yet the scars on Legolas's heart would take much longer.
Elrond reached for the brush, humming silently as he carressed the locks of golden. He heard a murmur escape Legolas's mouth, tensing some, hoping that he would not wake the sleeping prince. Elrond braided the section of Legolas's hair, the way he had always worn it. After his hair was taken care of the, the Lord left the room only to come back with clothes. He dressed Legolas, careful to not upset his injuries.
The prince's face relaxed as Elrond sank beside him on the bed, instinctively clutching for the dark Elf's hand. Elrond did not deny the much younger elf and so he sat there, the smaller hand resting his own. Doubts surfaced on Elrond's mind. It was most likely that Thranduil would know that Legolas went to Rivendell and would stop at nothing until his son is returned to him. But, Thranduil was only part of Mirkwood, Elrond was the Lord of Rivendell. If needed, Elrond was fully prepared to take Legolas to Lothlorien; the home of the Lady Galadriel and the Lord Cereborn-the High Elves.
A sound broke Elrond's thought process as he turned around only to see a surprised Elladan. The brown haired, blue eyed Elf gaped openly at the site of the prince. 'What happened Father?'
Legolas moved in his sleep, shifting positions. Elrond put a finger to his lips, taking his eldest son by the arm and leading him just outside of the room. Elrond conversed in hushed whispers. 'I am not sure Elladan though I suspect Thranduil did this to him.'
Elladan peered at the prone boy, anger marring his features. 'It is something he would do. We saw it before when Legolas came here to visit. What are you going do about it?'
'I would like to speak to your brother and sister first before deciding on the appropriate action to take.'
Elladan shook his head, sighing. 'Tis unright for Thranduil to treat Legolas so poorly.'
A groan came inside the room. 'Wake Arwen and Elrohir, tell them the situation and I shall meet you in the dining hall soon.' Elladan nodded, doing his father's bidding. Elrond watched as the prince struggled to sit up, holding his sore ribs. 'Prince Legolas,' Elrond bowed his head slightly in greeting.
Legolas clenched his jaw muscles, eyes hardening at the appearance of the Elven Lord. 'Lord Elrond. I am sorry to have taken time away from your schedule. I have disgraced my family name with my petty concerns.'
Elrond waited as the young Elf rose from the bed, trying his hardest not to wince. Elrond could merely stand aside, not wishing to upset the prince anylonger with taking away more of his intense pride by assisting him. 'You are not taking time from my schedule, Legolas.'
'As you say, my lord.'
'It is Elrond, Legolas. I have known you long enough.'
'Aye, thats true.'
The pair of Elves started for the dining hall, their pace slow. Elrond wanted to question the prince about his state of being-mind and body. However, Legolas would not have appreciated his concern. Upon entering, the three Elves raised their blue eyes to respectfully meet the prince's. Elrohir almost gasped but Elladan elbowed him none-too-gently in the side. Arwen smiled warmly at Legolas, bare feet padding on the marble floor.
'Hello,' Arwen chirped happily, eyes crinkling merrily.
Legolas stared down at the child, returning the smile albeit much denser. 'Good morrow, Arwen. How is the little Evenstar?' Arwen giggled, taking Legolas's hand and bringing him to sit beside her and Elrond. Elrond's face softened at the innocent affection passing between his daughter and the prince.
Breakfast was served, the prince darted unwary glances at the family. Legolas wasn't expecting such a hearty welcome, not after Elrond had seen the proof of his father's temperment. Elrond had seen the bruises and scars so why hadn't he asked about them. Legolas knew the time would come when he would have to tell Elrond but could he? Legolas wasn't sure. He loved his father dearly, even after all of the beatings. Legolas's hand unconciously went to his bandaged body. He wasn't sure if he could return home. Thranduil would no doubt abuse him harder, especially for coming to the land of his rival's.
Legolas raised his blue eyes to meet those of Elrond. After holding the stare for a few seconds, Legolas looked away, cheeks flushed. What was wrong with him? He shrugged it aside and continued eating his meal.
Elladan stifled his chuckle at the confused, lost, and puzzled expression on his father's face. The oldest son poked Elrohir, nodding at Legolas and Elrond. 'Father and the prince?' Elrohir whispered in Elladan's ear.
'It could happen Elrohir.'
'I suppose but that doesnt mean it is so.'
'You are such a prude sometimes. Let them have their fun.'
'Your cruel.'
'Maybe.' Elladan's eyes twinkled as he stood from the table. 'I will be leaving to patrol the borders this morrow, Father.'
Elrohir lept from his seat. 'And I am taking Arwen to Violetia,' Elrohir said, scooping the little girl into his arms. 'We'll return by noon.'
With that, the siblings bade farwell, leaving Elrond and Legolas alone in the dining hall. Elrond cleared his throat, dispelling the silence. 'Legolas, is there anything you need?'
'No Elrond. I am fine. Thank you for asking,' he responed stiffly. His manners came to. 'I am sorry for being so abrupt with you Elrond, tis only my fears.'
'Your fears, Legolas?'
'It is nothing. Would you care if I retired to bed? I am weary.'
'Of course not.' Elrond waved his hand in dismissal. He sank back, a frown creasing his otherwise perfect visage. Legolas would be tough to break through and help to heal. Time would only tell and Elrond wondered how much time was left before Thranduil came to take the prince from him. Would that cause a war? Elrond hoped not...
* * *
O.o Bad? Good? &_& hope you liked it! :D
This is yaoi. Relationships between boys and other boys.
summary: After being constantly abused by his father, Legolas runs away from home and into the arms of Elrond. (in the sequel, it will contain LegolasxElrond with LegolasxAragorn. O.o, a fight over the perfect blonde @_@) Also, a rather bastardized Haldir. (whom will cause angst. O_~)
Um..forgive me but I've only seen LOTR and I once read the other books but that was in 5th grade *scratches her head* which was seven years ago. So bear with me! *grins* Lets see what else? Legolas is older than Arwen in this fic. *shrugs* thats not important but oh well. ^_~
Note: It takes more than a few chapters for them to develop feelings. Elvish words in 'blah'
BETWEEN US
The wind blew serenely over the Elven city of Rivendell, trees swaying in the perpetual breeze that seemed to engulph the entire of Rivendell. Colorful butterflies flew around the fragrant flowers, the perfumed blossoms in their full righteousness. The sun's rays peeked above the horizon, touching the golden underbellies of the white puffs of clouds. Rivendell seemed to glow, as it did nightly, with an etheral essence.
Numerous Elves of starkingly breathtaking beauty subsided in the fair city, living their lives without many worries. A trill of an Elvish song drifted along the air currents, touching the hearts of those who had woken earlier than their companions. The trickling sluggishly dripping from the steep boulders caused a sense of serenity and contentment to wash over the land.
The Lord of Rivendell peered across the expanse of the city from the terrace of his home, dark brown hair softly playing in the airwaves. He closed his piercing blue eyes, taking in the tranquility the new day was bringing. However, his peaceful interlude was interrupted by the sounds of horse-hooves. Elrond's brows furrowed. He was not expecting any visitors.
Elrond descended to the main level of his home, careful not to waken his children. Though, Elladan and Elhoir were each two millenia, they were as childish as a five hundred year old. Arwen, his darling daughter, was half that and an upstart in her own right. A smile touched Elrond's lips at the thought. Arwen was so much like her mother Celebrian, it pained Elrond at times to see her. Though, it was all in the past, a millenia ago.
Elrond peered at the rider, eyes growing wider at the site. The Elf unmounted from the snow white horse, removing the green hood of his cloak. Elrond stifled the gasp that threatened to betray him. Standing before him was the Prince of Mirkwood, Legolas Greenleaf but what startled him more was the disray the prince was in. His clothes were mud stained and torn, blood discoloring a few places were obvious wounds had been re-opened. The sky blue eyes were dulled in pain, a single cut running along the high cheekbones. The flaxen blonde hair was disheveled, the braid that tied his bangs coming undone.
Legolas, merely sixteen hundred and just of age, raised those fear-filled cerulean orbs to meet those of the Lord's. Legolas didn't speak, barely able to maintain some state of dignity as weariness and throbbing hurt threatened to inflict him. Legolas's pride betrayed him as he pitched forward, landing in Elrond's arms.
Elrond's eyes flashed with anger, realizing how this had happened. "Thranduil," he seethed, casting glares in the direction of Mirkwood. Elrond gently lifted the light body into his arms and carried him inside, thankful for just this once that his children were not morning risers. Elrond passed through the corridors, leading to the healing bay. Once there, he laid the boy onto a bed. He sighed, taking a bottle of herbs and pultices.
Stripping aside the fragments of clothing that covered the much-too-thin frame, Elrond grimaced, his dislike of the Elven King growing more. Bruises marred the otherwise perfect flesh, dried blood flecked near wounds of new, hiding the ones of old. Elrond tenderly dabbed at the wounds, applying his healing skills to try and give the boy comfort when he woke.
How could Thranduil do this to his youngest son? Was he really that heartless? It was clear that Legolas did nothing to incur his father's wrath so why? Why had Thranduil beat his son so severly? Elrond watched the myriad emotions flicker across the handsome face, frowning. Legolas had visted only a few times to Rivendell, most of those times were spent with Elladan and Elrohir whom got along well with the younger Elf. Elrond smoothed aside a wayward strand of blonde hair, deciding he would have to fix the boy up when his wounds were bandaged.
Elrond gazed in rapt wonderment at Legolas. Had it taken seven hundred years for Legolas to finally realise that his father had snapped? That, even with the grief of losing his wife, Thranduil should never have exacted his pain upon Legolas? Elrond softly touched Legolas's cheek, smiling when the blonde ever so slightly nuzzled his hand. Elrond sat back, finishing the bindings on Legolas's body. The wounds would heal quickly enough, yet the scars on Legolas's heart would take much longer.
Elrond reached for the brush, humming silently as he carressed the locks of golden. He heard a murmur escape Legolas's mouth, tensing some, hoping that he would not wake the sleeping prince. Elrond braided the section of Legolas's hair, the way he had always worn it. After his hair was taken care of the, the Lord left the room only to come back with clothes. He dressed Legolas, careful to not upset his injuries.
The prince's face relaxed as Elrond sank beside him on the bed, instinctively clutching for the dark Elf's hand. Elrond did not deny the much younger elf and so he sat there, the smaller hand resting his own. Doubts surfaced on Elrond's mind. It was most likely that Thranduil would know that Legolas went to Rivendell and would stop at nothing until his son is returned to him. But, Thranduil was only part of Mirkwood, Elrond was the Lord of Rivendell. If needed, Elrond was fully prepared to take Legolas to Lothlorien; the home of the Lady Galadriel and the Lord Cereborn-the High Elves.
A sound broke Elrond's thought process as he turned around only to see a surprised Elladan. The brown haired, blue eyed Elf gaped openly at the site of the prince. 'What happened Father?'
Legolas moved in his sleep, shifting positions. Elrond put a finger to his lips, taking his eldest son by the arm and leading him just outside of the room. Elrond conversed in hushed whispers. 'I am not sure Elladan though I suspect Thranduil did this to him.'
Elladan peered at the prone boy, anger marring his features. 'It is something he would do. We saw it before when Legolas came here to visit. What are you going do about it?'
'I would like to speak to your brother and sister first before deciding on the appropriate action to take.'
Elladan shook his head, sighing. 'Tis unright for Thranduil to treat Legolas so poorly.'
A groan came inside the room. 'Wake Arwen and Elrohir, tell them the situation and I shall meet you in the dining hall soon.' Elladan nodded, doing his father's bidding. Elrond watched as the prince struggled to sit up, holding his sore ribs. 'Prince Legolas,' Elrond bowed his head slightly in greeting.
Legolas clenched his jaw muscles, eyes hardening at the appearance of the Elven Lord. 'Lord Elrond. I am sorry to have taken time away from your schedule. I have disgraced my family name with my petty concerns.'
Elrond waited as the young Elf rose from the bed, trying his hardest not to wince. Elrond could merely stand aside, not wishing to upset the prince anylonger with taking away more of his intense pride by assisting him. 'You are not taking time from my schedule, Legolas.'
'As you say, my lord.'
'It is Elrond, Legolas. I have known you long enough.'
'Aye, thats true.'
The pair of Elves started for the dining hall, their pace slow. Elrond wanted to question the prince about his state of being-mind and body. However, Legolas would not have appreciated his concern. Upon entering, the three Elves raised their blue eyes to respectfully meet the prince's. Elrohir almost gasped but Elladan elbowed him none-too-gently in the side. Arwen smiled warmly at Legolas, bare feet padding on the marble floor.
'Hello,' Arwen chirped happily, eyes crinkling merrily.
Legolas stared down at the child, returning the smile albeit much denser. 'Good morrow, Arwen. How is the little Evenstar?' Arwen giggled, taking Legolas's hand and bringing him to sit beside her and Elrond. Elrond's face softened at the innocent affection passing between his daughter and the prince.
Breakfast was served, the prince darted unwary glances at the family. Legolas wasn't expecting such a hearty welcome, not after Elrond had seen the proof of his father's temperment. Elrond had seen the bruises and scars so why hadn't he asked about them. Legolas knew the time would come when he would have to tell Elrond but could he? Legolas wasn't sure. He loved his father dearly, even after all of the beatings. Legolas's hand unconciously went to his bandaged body. He wasn't sure if he could return home. Thranduil would no doubt abuse him harder, especially for coming to the land of his rival's.
Legolas raised his blue eyes to meet those of Elrond. After holding the stare for a few seconds, Legolas looked away, cheeks flushed. What was wrong with him? He shrugged it aside and continued eating his meal.
Elladan stifled his chuckle at the confused, lost, and puzzled expression on his father's face. The oldest son poked Elrohir, nodding at Legolas and Elrond. 'Father and the prince?' Elrohir whispered in Elladan's ear.
'It could happen Elrohir.'
'I suppose but that doesnt mean it is so.'
'You are such a prude sometimes. Let them have their fun.'
'Your cruel.'
'Maybe.' Elladan's eyes twinkled as he stood from the table. 'I will be leaving to patrol the borders this morrow, Father.'
Elrohir lept from his seat. 'And I am taking Arwen to Violetia,' Elrohir said, scooping the little girl into his arms. 'We'll return by noon.'
With that, the siblings bade farwell, leaving Elrond and Legolas alone in the dining hall. Elrond cleared his throat, dispelling the silence. 'Legolas, is there anything you need?'
'No Elrond. I am fine. Thank you for asking,' he responed stiffly. His manners came to. 'I am sorry for being so abrupt with you Elrond, tis only my fears.'
'Your fears, Legolas?'
'It is nothing. Would you care if I retired to bed? I am weary.'
'Of course not.' Elrond waved his hand in dismissal. He sank back, a frown creasing his otherwise perfect visage. Legolas would be tough to break through and help to heal. Time would only tell and Elrond wondered how much time was left before Thranduil came to take the prince from him. Would that cause a war? Elrond hoped not...
* * *
O.o Bad? Good? &_& hope you liked it! :D
