Title: Cuil Eden
Part: 16/?
Rating: PG
Series: Sequel to Anestel and Ethuil'waew
Author: Esteliel (esteliel@gmx.de)
Homepage: www.loes-valthen.de.vu
Pairing: Glorfindel/Legolas
Warnings: mpreg, d/s
Disclaimer: All the pretty elves belong to Tolkien, I'm just playing
with them and will give them back afterwards.
Summary: Legolas learns that despite the events told in "Anestel",
life continues.
Lots of thanks to my betas Calenharn Elflover for all of her nit-picking ;) and Gabby for her additional comments. :)
**************************
For a long moment Legolas stared at his image in the mirror. He was speechless – he had not expected this. Slowly he raised a hand to touch his intricately woven hair, as if he doubted the reality of what he saw. Yet this was real, his hair soft against his fingertips, the knots and loops following the pattern which was so familiar and yet so new. The Royal Braids... how often had he dreamed of wearing them one day? And yet he had known deep within his heart that it could never be, not after all that he had done...
When he finally spoke, it was not what Glorfindel had expected. "Why?" Legolas said in a small voice, tears already starting to form in his eyes. "Why mock me like this? Please my lord, don't force me to do this – ai, I cannot bear it..."
Glorfindel was stunned – he had expected gratitude, not tears. Frowning, he turned Legolas around, brushing his tears away with his thumb. "Why are you crying, pen lend? I do not want to mock you – you are a prince, it is your right to wear these braids!"
"But I am no prince, my lord!" Legolas cried out, and all of a sudden Glorfindel found himself with an armful of distraught youth sobbing against his shoulder.
"Legolas! Calm yourself!" Glorfindel was shocked by this outburst. No, this was indeed not what he had expected, but how could he have foreseen this reaction? All he had wanted to do was to raise Legolas' self-confidence, and instill some of the pride he should feel as a prince of his people.
"I am not worthy of them," Legolas sobbed. "I do not deserve to wear them; my father would never have allowed it! Take them out, take them out and give me back your knots of possession, for that is who I am now!"
"No, little one," Glorfindel said, and gently began rubbing Legolas' back. "I said that you will have to beg for my knots, but not like this, and not for this reason."
The young prince did not react. He did not even seem to listen as he wept his shame and despair into Glorfindel's tunic, but the seneschal continued to soothe and hold him until finally the tears subsided. Then he raised Legolas' face and kissed the tear-stained cheeks, smiling at the tired and hopeless look on the face of the youth. "You are so young, sweet one... you have not yet learned that not everything is as bleak as it looks to you at the moment. You iare/i a prince; your father might deny it, but one day you will be restored to your rightful position – I promise you. I do not mean these braids as a mockery; no, I only want to make certain that everyone who looks upon you this evening knows that they stand before Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood. I will not allow anyone to ridicule you; have I not promised to protect you?"
Glorfindel grinned when Legolas grudgingly nodded. "What do you think, then – shall I bear my sword with me to the feast? The first one who looks at you the wrong way will get pierced by my sword." Despite his tears, Legolas snickered. "Not ithat/i sword!" Glorfindel admonished with mock outrage although he was secretly pleased at having brought a smile to the youth's face.
"See? It is not that bad, is it?" he then said softly, his voice serious once more. The young prince nodded and raised a hand to rub at his reddened eyes. It made Glorfindel smile; Legolas looked like a small child pouting because another child had stolen its sweets. But then, that thought wasn't so far off – Legolas was yet as vulnerable as a child. So easy to hurt, so easy to bring down. Glorfindel still wondered what had made Thranduil treat his youngest like this. Had the king not realized what his constant rejection would do? Legolas believed that he was not worthy of love and affection and yet he yearned for it so desperately that each new rejection, each new insult sliced open the scars his father's coldness had left. And Legolas believed those hateful words, believed them to be true since it was identical to the treatment he had known at home. If he ever met him, Glorfindel swore he would make Thranduil suffer for the pain he had caused Legolas. But right now he had more urgent things to deal with...
When he again focused on Legolas, he found the youth's eyes downcast, his entire body radiating misery and shame after breaking down in tears. "I am sorry, my lord," Legolas said softly. "I should not have reacted like this."
"No, little one, I should have thought to tell you before I braided your hair. I am sorry for surprising you. Still, I think that you look very beautiful like this. And I am certain that tonight, you will look even more beautiful than Elladan," Glorfindel said, trying to change the topic. "It makes you look older, and more serious; people will be afraid to offend you tonight."
"You are jesting, my lord," Legolas said, but his eyes showed his happiness at the compliment. "But I cannot wear them; I lost that right when I was exiled..."
"Ah, did we not already talk this over, cunn lend? I told you that your father's opinion will change one day. And did the blood in your veins change the minute your father banished you? Have you been denied the love of the trees of your homeland? Does your soul no longer understand the songs of the wind and the leaves of Mirkwood? No, you are still a prince of that realm and your father cannot change that. iHe/i might think that he hates you now, but the trees will still sing for you if you return."
Legolas was silent. His eyes were unfocused as his thoughts were filled with memories of his home, of the great wood and the valiant soul of the land. Yes, Glorfindel was right... he still had their love. That had not changed, nor would it ever. He sighed, calmer now that he had remembered how it was to sing with the wind. "If it pleases you, then I will wear these braids, but it does not change the fact that this is not who I am."
"Perhaps not right now, but this is who you will be one day." After a gentle kiss, Glorfindel made Legolas get up so that they could both change into their robes. "And this evening is the first step on the way."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
pen lend = sweet one
cunn lend = sweet prince
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Part: 16/?
Rating: PG
Series: Sequel to Anestel and Ethuil'waew
Author: Esteliel (esteliel@gmx.de)
Homepage: www.loes-valthen.de.vu
Pairing: Glorfindel/Legolas
Warnings: mpreg, d/s
Disclaimer: All the pretty elves belong to Tolkien, I'm just playing
with them and will give them back afterwards.
Summary: Legolas learns that despite the events told in "Anestel",
life continues.
Lots of thanks to my betas Calenharn Elflover for all of her nit-picking ;) and Gabby for her additional comments. :)
**************************
For a long moment Legolas stared at his image in the mirror. He was speechless – he had not expected this. Slowly he raised a hand to touch his intricately woven hair, as if he doubted the reality of what he saw. Yet this was real, his hair soft against his fingertips, the knots and loops following the pattern which was so familiar and yet so new. The Royal Braids... how often had he dreamed of wearing them one day? And yet he had known deep within his heart that it could never be, not after all that he had done...
When he finally spoke, it was not what Glorfindel had expected. "Why?" Legolas said in a small voice, tears already starting to form in his eyes. "Why mock me like this? Please my lord, don't force me to do this – ai, I cannot bear it..."
Glorfindel was stunned – he had expected gratitude, not tears. Frowning, he turned Legolas around, brushing his tears away with his thumb. "Why are you crying, pen lend? I do not want to mock you – you are a prince, it is your right to wear these braids!"
"But I am no prince, my lord!" Legolas cried out, and all of a sudden Glorfindel found himself with an armful of distraught youth sobbing against his shoulder.
"Legolas! Calm yourself!" Glorfindel was shocked by this outburst. No, this was indeed not what he had expected, but how could he have foreseen this reaction? All he had wanted to do was to raise Legolas' self-confidence, and instill some of the pride he should feel as a prince of his people.
"I am not worthy of them," Legolas sobbed. "I do not deserve to wear them; my father would never have allowed it! Take them out, take them out and give me back your knots of possession, for that is who I am now!"
"No, little one," Glorfindel said, and gently began rubbing Legolas' back. "I said that you will have to beg for my knots, but not like this, and not for this reason."
The young prince did not react. He did not even seem to listen as he wept his shame and despair into Glorfindel's tunic, but the seneschal continued to soothe and hold him until finally the tears subsided. Then he raised Legolas' face and kissed the tear-stained cheeks, smiling at the tired and hopeless look on the face of the youth. "You are so young, sweet one... you have not yet learned that not everything is as bleak as it looks to you at the moment. You iare/i a prince; your father might deny it, but one day you will be restored to your rightful position – I promise you. I do not mean these braids as a mockery; no, I only want to make certain that everyone who looks upon you this evening knows that they stand before Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood. I will not allow anyone to ridicule you; have I not promised to protect you?"
Glorfindel grinned when Legolas grudgingly nodded. "What do you think, then – shall I bear my sword with me to the feast? The first one who looks at you the wrong way will get pierced by my sword." Despite his tears, Legolas snickered. "Not ithat/i sword!" Glorfindel admonished with mock outrage although he was secretly pleased at having brought a smile to the youth's face.
"See? It is not that bad, is it?" he then said softly, his voice serious once more. The young prince nodded and raised a hand to rub at his reddened eyes. It made Glorfindel smile; Legolas looked like a small child pouting because another child had stolen its sweets. But then, that thought wasn't so far off – Legolas was yet as vulnerable as a child. So easy to hurt, so easy to bring down. Glorfindel still wondered what had made Thranduil treat his youngest like this. Had the king not realized what his constant rejection would do? Legolas believed that he was not worthy of love and affection and yet he yearned for it so desperately that each new rejection, each new insult sliced open the scars his father's coldness had left. And Legolas believed those hateful words, believed them to be true since it was identical to the treatment he had known at home. If he ever met him, Glorfindel swore he would make Thranduil suffer for the pain he had caused Legolas. But right now he had more urgent things to deal with...
When he again focused on Legolas, he found the youth's eyes downcast, his entire body radiating misery and shame after breaking down in tears. "I am sorry, my lord," Legolas said softly. "I should not have reacted like this."
"No, little one, I should have thought to tell you before I braided your hair. I am sorry for surprising you. Still, I think that you look very beautiful like this. And I am certain that tonight, you will look even more beautiful than Elladan," Glorfindel said, trying to change the topic. "It makes you look older, and more serious; people will be afraid to offend you tonight."
"You are jesting, my lord," Legolas said, but his eyes showed his happiness at the compliment. "But I cannot wear them; I lost that right when I was exiled..."
"Ah, did we not already talk this over, cunn lend? I told you that your father's opinion will change one day. And did the blood in your veins change the minute your father banished you? Have you been denied the love of the trees of your homeland? Does your soul no longer understand the songs of the wind and the leaves of Mirkwood? No, you are still a prince of that realm and your father cannot change that. iHe/i might think that he hates you now, but the trees will still sing for you if you return."
Legolas was silent. His eyes were unfocused as his thoughts were filled with memories of his home, of the great wood and the valiant soul of the land. Yes, Glorfindel was right... he still had their love. That had not changed, nor would it ever. He sighed, calmer now that he had remembered how it was to sing with the wind. "If it pleases you, then I will wear these braids, but it does not change the fact that this is not who I am."
"Perhaps not right now, but this is who you will be one day." After a gentle kiss, Glorfindel made Legolas get up so that they could both change into their robes. "And this evening is the first step on the way."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
pen lend = sweet one
cunn lend = sweet prince
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~