Title: Bloom of a Rose Author: Andrea (Azriel) E-mail: gelaidh_elf@hotmail.com Rating: R (In later chapters.)

Summary: Legolas gets caught up in a dispute between Mirkwood and Imladris. Can Elrond and Glorfindel help him to find happiness?

Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine, they all belong to the Tolkien estate.

WARNING, this story is SLASH. The pairing shall be G/L with hinted Elrohir/L in later chapters. References to rape, incest, and graphic violence.

AN: Well here we are, some months later. I have nothing but praise for everyone who has reviewed and kept the spirit of this story alive and to those who have loyally badgered me all this time. I thought you peeps deserved a treat so I here are two chapters for your enjoyment. I am not overly happy with chapter 9 but I feel chapter 10 is the best to date (WARNING! Big battle scene!). I hope that you all continue to enjoy this story as much as I have whilst writing it. It will definitely not be as long before the next chapter is released. Promise! (It just needs to be revised one last time so I'm happy :) ).

Chapter 9: What will be....

An eternity passed but Legolas did not pull away. Never before had he felt so safe, so wanted and cherished. The lips dancing over his own were so tender never once trying to push him of force a response. The embrace seemed to last for an eternity, neither participant willing to release the other. Slowly, as lips parted and eyes fluttered open each elf allowed himself to breathe.

"Legolas," The younger elf sighed softly as he heard his name pass over his companion's lips. "You are truly a gift from the Valar." Glorfindel opened his arms allowing the prince to move into his embrace. He sighed again as he enfolded the slender figure and the warmth of the young body seeped through his robes.

"I am afraid."

"I know." Glorfindel drew back and found himself lost in the deep sapphire eyes; "And you have to understand that nothing will happen unless you will it, and nothing shall happen until we are bound." He reached up tucking a stray lock of golden hair behind the prince's ear. Fresh tears threatened to spill onto the pale cheeks and the elf lord felt his heart wrench at the sight.

The wind whistled softly around the arches of the walkway, the slight rustling of the trees in the garden breaking the uneasy silence that had fallen between them.

"Walk with me?" Silence met the gentle question but Glorfindel remained positive as Legolas nodded and subtly slid his hand into the taller elfs. Together they moved into the sheltered corner of the garden, the twilight shadows embracing them and the moonlight guiding their way to a tree trunk serving as a natural bench. No words passed between them but the seneschal knew that none were needed. He sat straddling the seat and Legolas followed him, sitting with his back against the elders chest.

Glorfindel let his free hand come up to brush through the golden strands resting against his burgundy robes, rewarded when his betrothed sighed and nestled his head against his shoulder. The slender fingers tightened their grip on his own and he encircled the youth in his embrace.

"Will you leave me to my fate my Lord?" Faint words spoken out of mixture of hope and fear struck home in Glorfindel' heart. He drew the prince closer noting how the slender frame submitted all too readily to the warmth offered to it.

"Only if I am a part of it." The elf Lord sighed. "I shall not abandon you."

Sapphire eyes gazed up at him in wonderment before seeking out the warmth of the robes. Legolas allowed his body the thrill of being close to this elf, knowing in his heart that he would never be hurt by the Balrog slayer, Glorfindel of the house of the Golden Flower.

*******

Grey eyes watched from the darkness of the archways at the pair of golden haired elves, jealousy flaring up in their shadowed depths. So engrossed was the figure in the scene before him that he failed to sense the approach of another.

"All is as it should be." The deep voice rang through the night air with authority and conviction. "They come together and heal the wounds of the past, something you would know little of. Their contentment is well deserved and I will see that nothing interferes with their relationship." The grey eyes of the father clashed with those of the son. "And I mean nothing." Elrond stood bolt straight, his voice leaving little doubt as to his sincerity.

"I don't know what you mean ada!" Elrohir balked in mock indignation. "I was simply making my way to see if Legolas was well. He seemed somewhat quiet at dinner and I wished to see if I could provide aid in some way."

"Well as you can see pen-neth, all is very much well in the princes world." Elrond gestured to the couple that remained curled in an affectionate embrace. "Many have foreseen such a union, the Valar themselves have willed it."

"Ada, I am pleased that they have found a balance and an acceptance of their situation." Elrohir continued. "I understand how they must feel, being trapped with little room to manoeuvre."

"They have both consented to bonding for the sake of their people. Something you would do well to learn from." The lord of the valley held his sons now unsteady gaze, unspoken threats firing between them. "Your sister and Aragorn have retired to the Halls of Fire. I suggest that you join them."

Elrohir nodded and passed his father, making his way silently across the stone floor. Elrond looked away from the scene of intimacy unfolding in the garden, suddenly feeling like a trespasser on the delicate moment. He had seen his companions love for his young fosterling shine in his eyes and had silently watched as the young elf found his place in the valleys society. For a time he had feared that the prince had found his companionship in his chief counsellor but soon found these concerns to be unfounded. The two were friends, companions in their bond with the natural world and their love of the past, but certainly nothing more.

The journey to his chambers was short and he was relieved when he shut the large wooden door to the outside world. His worries for his son faded as he sat down upon his bed relishing the familiar warmth of his surroundings. He put his fears to rest until tomorrow.

After all, tomorrow was another day...

******

The warmth of the kitchen fires seeped through his tunic and collided with the warmth radiating from his heart. He sat perched on the worn steps watching the bustle as the elves busied themselves preparing breakfast. Various figures stopped briefly and greeted him but for the most part he was left in peace, his presence a familiar part of the kitchen life. An unconscious smile softened his features and his eyes danced with a light that had never been seen before. His friends wondered at the transformation in the elfling that had haunted their workplace.

"They say that when one is truly at peace the wisdom of the world can be seen in their eyes." The smile grew at the familiar voice and he looked up in the deep brown eyes. "Some have also said you have found a new sense of peace in the valley." Halrowen watched a deep red suffuse itself over the young elf's cheekbones and his eyes darted nervously to the floor.

"And where did you hear such a thing?" 'Ah', she thought, 'there is the sweet timid child I know so well'. She placed the tray of unbaked bread she had been carrying on a nearby table and took a seat next her young friend.

"Perhaps you are beginning to find your way at last, hmm? No more lies?"

"No more lies." Legolas agreed. "I have never felt this way. There is something I cannot explain nor describe about him, something that causes me to look upon him and feel... different." He drifted off into his thoughts unaware of the knowing smile being directed at him.

"You see him as any would see a potential mate. You see his affection for you and that which is returned. Tell me young one, do you think of him in a more.. intimate manner?" Despite the apparent seriousness of her question she laughed gently as Legolas turned an even deeper shade of red. "Shall I take that as a yes?" Her chuckling caused him to squirm and he suddenly felt flushed and unbearably hot.

"He is.. very attractive. Surely it is obvious to any who look upon him that he is indeed a desirable elf." His innocence reminded his friend of the horrors he had known in his short life. She hugged him with maternal affection and sighed gently.

"No Legolas, not to all. He is a kind and gentle elf and one of the most honourable Lords to have ever walked upon Arda. His love for his people is unsurpassed and he would gladly give his life for any who have shown him loyalty. For all these reasons he is a great elf indeed, but for many, these reasons oft make him less desirable. How can one who would so willingly sacrifice their happiness for his people remain so dedicated to a single elf?"

She watched as shadows cast themselves across Legolas' features and instantly regretted her approach. "You misunderstand me pen-neth." She watched the confusion and frustration build in the slender form and sighed again. "The answer is that he could not, unless that individual meant more to him than any other. I have seen the way he looks at you, young prince. His eyes hold a warmth that I have never seen before. He strives for your attention and acceptance with a ferocity so rarely seen outside of battle. It is though he is fighting for your heart."

Legolas looked at the older woman in wonderment, desperately searching her features for confirmation of her words. He saw no trace of falsity and found himself, for one of the first times in his life, daring to hope.

*******

Chapter 10 .... Will be.

Six months later...

Legolas raced along the open hallways towards the babble of sound emanating from the smaller chambers where they gathered for breakfast. It was just his luck to be late on a council day when the Lords met and could not be delayed. He had lingered in the comforting safety of the kitchens following his now traditional morning spent listening to Halrowen's words of comfort, and had not noticed the swift passage of time. It was only when his friends had asked him to move so that they might serve the food that he was shaken from his reverie.

He could have cried out in frustration as his robes snagged on a root snaking into the confines of the great house. He knelt gingerly to free the fine material, freezing as he felt hands rest themselves against his hips.

"Now what have we here? Hmmm?" The saccharine voice slid over Legolas' nerves causing him to jerk away from the icy touch only to find it tighten painfully. "And I thought I was the only one late for breakfast this day." Elrohir breathed into his captives' ear, enjoying that shiver that rippled through the rigid body.

"Release me." Legolas was proud at how steady his voice sounded despite his inner turmoil. "Your father waits for us."

"Hmmm.. I think you mean your gallant protector waits for you." The mocking laughter filled the younger twins' voice as he taunted the prince, twisting his body so that they faced each other. He saw the other elf's confidence and resolve weaken under his gaze and he strived to press home his advantage. "I was watching you at the practice fields yesterday. I know what he sees in you."

Legolas swallowed deeply as the older elf drove him back into the nearby pillar, a soft scraping sound telling him his robe was still caught in the traitorous vegetation.

"Your wife is due to arrive today is she not?" The question seemed to momentarily startle his aggressor, a momentary falter that Legolas used to tug the hindering material free and prepare to run. Elrohir snatched his arms pinning him forcefully against the stone and leaning in towards him.

"My wife is none of your concern, little rose. Do not mention her again." The dark elf's anger and his use of the name Glorfindel had given him only served to make the young elf bolder by seeking to exploit the weakness presented to him in the only way he knew would affect his opponent.

"Tis' not my fault she prefers another's bed to your own." Elrohir stilled, shocked at the smug smile he had never seen on Legolas' features before.

"It would seem that the rose is a wild one." He murmured, the breathy whisper barely reaching the others ears. "It will need to be stripped of its thorns."

"Elrohir!!" The sharp bark broke the eye contact between the two and Legolas felt the grip on his arms loosen. "Are you insane?! What if I had been ada?" His momentary relief faded as he identified his captors mirror image.

"Nothing is happening here 'Dan. Legolas tripped and his robe was caught." Elrohir grinned, turning back to catch the sapphire eyes of his prey. "I was merely helping him up."

"And I'm an Oliphaunt. Leave him, we are late for breakfast." Legolas did nothing but watch as Elladan shoved his brother, continuing to push him in the direction of the chambers that were his original destination. He glanced down at the now tattered edges of his robe and drew a deep breath. He felt himself shake as shock began to set in and felt the tears well in his eyes.

Keeping his head lowered, he turned and forced himself to move in the direction the twin devils had gone.

******

"We were going to send a search party for you penneth!" Glorfindel stood as his betrothed moved sedately into the library. Sapphire eyes met his and he noted the distress masked within their depths. Choosing to wait for privacy he said nothing, instead holding out his hand for Legolas to take. He felt the slender fingers shake slightly as they entwined themselves with his own and his concern deepened when he made a mental note of the tattered hem of the princes robe.

"Please forgive me, my lords." Legolas muttered. "I lost track of time whilst I was in the kitchens." He looked up at Elrond as he spoke before helping himself to a piece of fresh bread.

"I still cannot fathom why you spend so much time down there, princeling." Elrohir goaded. "You would benefit far more from joining us for an early morning ride to the ranges." His tone appeared pleasant but those listening closely could catch the barely disguised amusement.

"Surely it is up to Legolas as to what he deems a beneficial use of his time?" Glorfindel interceded, the notion that his former charge had something to do with his intended's distress. "And besides, he hardly needs the practice when his skill with the bow far exceeds your own!"

Elrohir met Glorfindel's challenging gaze. "That as maybe, however his skill with the blade is still distinctly lacking. The knives are all well and good but the sword is a skill necessary of the warrior you seem to wish him to be."

"All I wish him to be Elrohir, is happy." Glorfindel sat straight as Legolas continued to gingerly butter his bread, nibbling at it seemingly unaware of being the focus of the conversation. "It is his choice whether he wishes to follow the warrior's path. If not I shall support him in whatever he wishes to do."

Silence fell over the small gathering; the only sound to daring to emerge was that of Legolas' knife scraping over the hard crust of the bread. The deadlock between the warrior and the youth was disrupted by the gruff sound of Elrond clearing his throat drawing eyes back to him and the breakfast still lying in front of them.

"When is she arriving?" He said making certain that all knew the subject was closed.

"Presently ada," Elrohir turned back to his father, a deceptive smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "This is why I must eat and run. I am sure you understand."

"Of course, ion-nin. I shall meet with the lady following the council." Elrond stated. "But I am sure Legolas can entertain her whilst you and Elladan present your report." The mild unease on Elrohir's face was complimented by a series of coughs as the Mirkwood prince tried not to choke his breakfast. Glorfindel was at his side, water in hand, as his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"Surely the Lady would prefer the company of the one of the maidens, Lord Elrond." The blond elf asked trying to ease his intended's obvious unease.

"No, I think it would be fitting for them to spend time together." The elf lord mused "Perhaps a ride as Elrohir so helpfully suggested earlier."

"As you wish ada." The younger twin mumbled. "But Legolas will need to change."

Silence fell and all eyes turned to Legolas who kept his eyes firmly on the table.

********

'Anywhere but here, anywhere but here...' Legolas repeated the mantra over and over in his mind as he forced himself to remain still, watching as Elrohir greeted his 'beloved' Naurwen of Lorien. The riding tunic felt constrictive and he longed to loosen the straps that crossed over at his chest. The twin knives, a gift from Glorfindel, weighed heavily between his shoulder blades and he found himself half wanting to unsheathe them and remove the knowing grin from Elrohir's face. As the younger twin turned beckoning him forward, he felt the lump that had been building in his throat rise up, threatening to suffocate him.

"Your Highness." The elf maiden bowed her head in acknowledgement of his approach. "I have heard much of you these past two years."

"And I you, my lady." Legolas said quietly. "It is a shame that your family have kept you in the Golden Wood and from your husband's side for such a long time." He resisted the urge to smile as he felt Elrohir bristle at his side and the flash of disgust that passed across the lady's face.

"Indeed my lord, however Lothlorien is, and will always be home to me." The tone of her voice contradicted the fire in her eyes, and Legolas felt himself fight the urge to bait her further.

"I can only hope that you find some peace of spirit here in the valley as I have." He said trying to bring this hated meeting to a close. He could think of a thousand places he would rather be than in the company of this shrew.

"I am afraid I can see little similarity in our situations." She smiled this time, a smile of saccharine sweetness masking the triumph shining in her eyes as she saw the pain enter the young elf's features. As the prince had found his target, she had found hers.

"Children please," Elrohir chuckled. "As amusing as this is I must leave you. Enjoy your ride dearest. Try not to show him up too much." The dark-elf spun on his heel and stalked off, chuckling as he went.

"Come little Princeling." She bit out, turning on her heel and stalking off in the direction of the stables. "The sooner we leave the sooner we can return."

******************

The young gelding danced lightly underneath him and Legolas felt the muscles in his shoulders tighten in anticipation of what would come out of the woman's mouth next. Since leaving the stables she had single-handedly managed to destroy any self confidence he had built up in the past year. She had torn open wounds that had barely begun to heal; ripping into his soul and making him feel like the elf that had been abandoned in the valley so long ago.

He keenly felt the absence of the close circle that had been his constant companions, the continuous reassuring touches and the simple presence of Glorfindel at his side. This woman was worthy of her name. Fire maid indeed! She burned with a malicious nature and Legolas could not help but compare her to those who had treated him so ill.

They had been riding in silence for an age following her latest outburst, her insistence on venturing further a field than Legolas had intended only serving to add to his unease. Naurwen spurred her mare on never giving the elf prince a backward glance as she wove a path through the trees.

Dark clouds had begun to spread their way menacingly across the sky, thunder sounding out from the east. The gelding slowed its pace, its movements becoming more wary as the mare and her rider disappeared from sight.

Legolas glanced about trying to discern the source of his unease. True, the words of earlier had disturbed him, but not to the extent that he would feel this deep sense of dread. His wood-elf senses reached out as a wisp of wind tugged at his hair bringing the voices of the trees to his ears. He listened intently to their whispers recognising their quiet warnings of unseen danger. The gelding became increasingly restless, tossing its head trying to dislodge his rider.

Despite his instincts Legolas pushed the gelding forward, desperate to find the wayward lady and return to the security of the last homely house. His heart pounded wildly in his chest and he felt the rush of adrenalin that was so familiar from his days in Mirkwood. For an instant he was transported back to those days of fear and self- loathing, of the unwanted touches. It was though as he was crouched in the corner of his brothers room, no sound to disturb the stillness but his own ragged breathing and the dull thud of his heart. He remembered the tears tracing unnoticed paths down his cheeks, anyone who saw them not caring enough to chase their cause away.

The elf felt panic well up within him as he whipped his head around, trapped between searching for the arrogant elf-maid and his living nightmare. His gelding continued to react to his riders obvious distress fighting against the uncertain, hesitant commands in his own need to return to what he deemed as safety.

The growing rumble of the thunder signalled the encroachment of the storm from its perch on the mountains into the valley. The sky continued to darken and Legolas' fear spread not just to himself but also to his unwanted companion. He struggled to focus his emotions, prevent their transmission to the animal beneath. He opened his mind to the surrounding trees trying to make sense of their previously masked voices. Their voices reached out to him for the first time caressing his mind, directing him and guiding him to his target. They drew him close to the shores of the Bruinien and the border of Imladris, the voices increasing in urgency practically screaming at him to hurry.

As the gelding broke from the cover of the boughs a shrill piercing cry ripped through the air...

**************

Naurwens' laughter echoed around her as she urged the horse forward leaving the pathetic elf behind her. She laughed at how such a pitiful creature could ever consider himself worthy of being a prince. Her joviality sobered slightly as her mind turned to the rumours that had reached her ears in the Golden Wood.

Her 'darling' husband obviously coveted this elfling and it sickened her. Despite their understanding and the knowledge that the dark elf had no interests in maids she felt a sense of possessiveness. It was hard to believe that anyone could prefer such a worthless prize to herself. Her family cosseted her and her lovers worshipped her, so how could anyone not desire her presence?

This closeness she was being forced to share with the wood elf only served to incense her further. She did not require the so called company of someone much lower than herself. Legolas was no warrior, they had nothing in common and for anyone to think she would simply enjoy his company was unfeasible.

She continued the ride, unaware of the mares sudden reluctance to advance. She remained deaf to the warnings of the valley, crossing the Bruinien without thought. Hooves pounded on the ground, ploughing the soft earth as horse and rider deviated from the path and thunder echoed overhead. The wind whipped through the leaves of the undergrowth disguising the unnatural rustling emanating from within.

Naurwen started to hum to herself becoming increasingly frustrated at the horses attempts to slow their progress. She reached back and delivered a swift slap to the beasts flank to keep momentum but had barely returned her focus to the front before the horses front legs gave way. The elf maid was thrown forward, her body contacting violently with the ground. Broken twigs and small stones cut at her gown and skin as the wind flew from her lungs and her ears were filled with the distressed cries of the mare who was trying in vain to rise up. Naurwen scrambled to her knees in an attempt to avoid being crushed by the flailing animal. She looked back in desperation, suddenly wishing for the other elf to come riding up in search of her. It was then that her eyes were drawn back to the mare... and to the coarse rope snaring its forelimbs.

She backed up frantically ignoring the stinging in her palms. The blood was racing through her veins, her breath coming in short gasps as she fought against rising hysteria. Suddenly she froze, her limited instincts detecting a presence behind her. Slowly she turned her head to face the newcomer, a scream of terror ripped from her throat as she was met by a group of menacing yellow eyes....

*************

"Run melamin... We are needed" Legolas whispered to the gelding as they dashed through the water of the river, ignoring the splashes thrown up from the horses legs. He did not know what he would face on the other side but he reached behind removing one of the twin knives strapped to his back. The flash of metal brought fresh uncertainty to Legolas' mind. He had never faced an opponent before unless it was Erestor, Berethil or his Glorfindel, had never been in a situation where a falter or a slip could cost him dearly.

He forced himself to centre his nerves as he left the vale for the first time since the day of his arrival. His fear was almost overwhelming as he continued to follow the churned up tracks left by the preceding rider, but his determination was almost as strong. Despite everything that this female had done to his psyche in such a short space of time, Legolas could not leave her to whatever was causing her distress. That would make him no better than 'them'.

The gelding drove forward with an increased ferocity as the harrowing cries of the injured mare started to reach their ears. The whimpers gradually became mingled with the snarls and growls of beasts and the distraught shrieks of the missing maid.

The young elf clenched his eyes shut before bursting onto the horrific scene ahead of them. Acting on every instinct that had been trained into him, replaying Berethil's lessons in his head and letting himself feel the strength of the trees, Legolas clasped the reins of his mount and swung the blade down for the first time.

He had seen orcs before, but only the corpses brought back to the stronghold grounds as evidence of a hunts success, and only then from the darkness of the shadows of the court. In life they were even more grotesque and Legolas found it difficult to focus on his task. Yellow eyes and black skin of twenty orcs surrounded them, angry cries and the horrific shrieks of those that fell to his blade sounded out as he dealt the killing blows from atop his steed.

The monsters, temporarily distracted from their original prey, massed around the pair trying to rip at Legolas' legs with their claws and to drag the horse down. The gelding reared up, trying to crush the creatures beneath his hooves, but unconsciously dislodging the elf on top causing the blade to falter in its motions. Legolas twisted desperately trying to regain his previous advantage but failing due to the erratic movements of his steed. Seeing an opening in the decreasing number of orcs the elf vaulted from the gelding, stumbling slightly before unsheathing the second blade and facing his enemy.

He stood in front of the still screaming maiden, sending a prayer to Orome to guide his hand. His skin was splattered with black fluid flowing down to mingle with red at his legs. He felt himself tiring but could see an end to the battle as the volume of guttural snarls gradually lessened as his knives slid through flesh.

He longed for the familiar weight of his bow, longed to release his arrows in to the hearts of the shadows servants. He watched in horror as an orc near the rear of the group rammed a twisted piece of metal into the neck of the suffering mare, only to find its skull crushed moments later by the geldings killing blow. He was further distracted as an urgent cry drew his attention around to Naurwen. A lone orc stood over her a similar iron weapon raised above its head. The blow never landed as a blade embedded itself in its lightly armoured chest.

Legolas found his limbs becoming heavy, his movements sluggish and his obvious inexperience of battle beginning to show through. His breathing came in shorter gasps as his swings weakened. It was only the cries of his defenceless companion that kept him on his feet.

'Four left...' he made a mental note. 'So few yet so many...'

Two more fell to join the corpses now littering the ground. Then another but by no means as cleanly. Finally Legolas stood, swaying unsteadily as he faced his final opponent. The orc rushed forward and he brought the blade up waiting for the clashing of metal. But it never came...

The gargled choking of a dying orc was all that could be heard before the body fell lifelessly to the ground, a gaping wound in its neck. Legolas stumbled again, turning disbelieving eyes to the elf maid standing at his side the twin of his blade in her hand. Both stood breathing heavily, blond hair dishevelled, material and flesh torn and a look of mutual respect passing between them.

In his exhaustion, Legolas did not register the widening of Naurwens eyes. He barely heard her scream, rough and grated from repeated use before a shaft of pure fire sped its way through his right shoulder. He could not move, only watch helplessly as the maiden threw her blade, the brief cry a sign that the unseen assailant had been felled.

The blade fell from numb fingers and blue eyes looked down at his body, staring disbelievingly at the barbed arrow head protruding from his flesh slicked with his only blood. The wound burned fiercely unlike anything he had ever experienced and he could not tear his gaze from the sight.

'Oh, my Glorfindel...' He could not hear the desperate sobbing of the female who now stood so close to him. He felt a cold sensation flood his being as his vision started to grow dim and his legs gave way. 'Forgive me...' He drew a deep ragged breath letting himself be swallowed by the waiting darkness.

'I have failed you.....'

TBC.....

Next: Chapter 11 - Reticence and Respect.

Authors Note 2: I should note that this chapter has only been edited by me. Both of my beta readers no longer wish to continue so I am currently without an editor. If there are any experienced beta readers out there who are reading and enjoying this story that could help out I would be very grateful. Cheers, Andrea (Azriel).