Chapter 6
Elladan stared at the two young people in shock. The sight in front of him was so unexpected that for a few moments, the older twin simply stood still and thought about the implications of what he had found.
His first instinctive reaction was to wake both of them and give Legolas a major telling off. How could this spoiled princeling dare to get entangled with his baby brother! But Elladan was not given to spontaneous actions, and only a few seconds' thought told him that his initial reaction was due to protectiveness, not any rational thought.
Even though still very young even by human standards, Estel was nearing full physical maturity, and probably the time in his life when he did become interested in relationships. But the choice of partner and timing could hardly be worse. This was Mirkwood, and the young elf Estel seemed to like was Thranduil's son.
This turned Elladan's thought to Legolas. He had never warmed to the young prince, and knew that Elrohir very much disliked this young elf. Potentially this could cause all sorts of complications, not the least of which would be the King's wrath when he found out that his only son had become involved with a mortal. Elladan knew that Legolas was past his majority, but not by much, and he certainly was too young to consider a serious relationship.
Legolas was undoubtedly attractive, with his light hair, dark eyes and slim body, and it was not difficult for Elladan to see why Estel might be attracted to him. Although he was surprised that Estel had fallen so easily for a pretty face, he could not see what else there was about this particular elf that might have attracted his younger brother. He had always thought that Estel would look for something more.
But then, Estel was still very young, and Elladan had never seen him showing an interest in anyone else. In the end, Estel had to make his own experiences, although this particular experiment seemed to be singularly inappropriate.
Elladan sighed mentally. What to do? Elladan decided that he would leave the two youngsters, but observe them from a distance. He did not want Estel to get hurt – if things went too far, he would have to speak to Estel, and perhaps to their father. For the time being – Estel had to make his own mistakes.
But Elladan did not want the two young people to be found like this. He very lightly nudged his foster brother, who stirred slightly and turned. His relaxed hand slipped out of Legolas' hand.
-o-o-o-
After enjoying the meal, Elrond had spent some time dancing but also a long while with Thranduil and his advisors, discussing the problem of the spiders. They had decided that Elrond would have a look at some of the victims, and that he would start to develop an antidote the next day.
Despite the somewhat strained feelings between the king and Elrond, the hours passed quickly, and when dawn approached, he began to look for his sons. The only one he spotted readily was Elladan, who was sitting with a group of other young elves enjoying some music. He approached his son.
"Elladan, do you know where your brothers are?"
"Yes, Elrohir is one of his usual pursuits; and Estel is sleeping in a forest glade nearby. He and Thranduil's son crashed out together fairly early in the evening ... I guess neither of them was used to the wine they had." The last part was said with a smile.
"Yes, Estel should not have had that wine, really. And Legolas is still quite young as well. I am surprised that they seem to get on so well, I would not have expected Thranduil's son to take easily to your mortal brother."
Elladan nodded at this statement. He was tempted to add how he had found Estel and Legolas, but then decided against. He would watch the situation; he could always raise it with Elrond later.
-o-o-o-
A few hours later. The rays of the rising sun were reaching the forest clearing Estel and Legolas were sleeping in. It had been an exceptionally mild summer night; even Estel had not felt chilled sleeping outside without a covering. As the sun rose of the top of the trees, Legolas woke up, and for a moment felt surprised at finding himself next to another sleeping person. Then he remembered the previous evening, and the conversation they had had. The young prince smiled. From what he had seen so far, he liked Estel. The young man was completely different from what Legolas had expected, he was much more like an elf than other humans whom Legolas had encountered.
Legolas raised himself up on one elbow and watched the resting young man. During the night, Estel had turned, and was now lying on his front, using his crossed forearms as a pillow. His dark, tousled hair obscured his face and fell untidily over his shoulders and back. Estel's body and legs looked strong and muscular, and the skin of his face and arms smooth. Again Legolas felt the stirring of desire, and scolded himself. This was not appropriate, after all, Estel was mortal, and on top of that, Elrond of Rivendell's foster son. And yet Legolas found it difficult to tear away his eyes from the sleeping young man. He had never felt like this before.
Legolas then realised that it was time to wake Estel. They would need to get themselves ready for breakfast, and both of them were still wearing the clothes from the night before.
-o-o-o-
Estel was woken by a light touch on his shoulder. For a brief moment, he was disorientated. He looked into the smiling face of a young fair-haired elf. Prince Legolas. And as his eyes still adjusted to the light, he thought again that Legolas was exceptionally beautiful. Even slightly dishevelled from sleeping, he looked refreshed and his dark eyes were clear. Yet again, Estel felt the urge to run his hands through Legolas' hair. He wondered if it felt as soft as it looked. The moment he had thought these thoughts, Estel told himself off. This was Prince Legolas, surely not an appropriate aim for the affections of a fifteen-year-old human boy. Inwardly Estel sighed. He was sufficiently honest with himself to admit that he was attracted to Legolas, more so than he had ever been to anyone else. But he was also no fool, there were some things that were possible, and others that were not. This affection definitely belonged into the second category.
Whilst these thoughts were passing through his mind, he found himself returning Legolas' gaze. Their eyes locked for a long moment, in which neither spoke. Then Legolas broke the silence.
"Good morning Estel. I hope you have slept well."
"I have slept very well. Thank you. It is beautiful and peaceful here."
Estel raised himself onto his elbows and looked at Legolas for another long moment. There was something in those dark eyes that he could not quite read. With a mental sigh, he pushed his previous thoughts out of his mind.
"I guess it is time to freshen up for the morning meal. ... Legolas, will you have time to show me more of Lasgalen today?"
"My father has given me the task to keep you occupied. He does not like it that your foster-father brought you along, and wanted me to keep an eye on you. But this is turning out a much nicer task than I had thought it might be. And it does mean that I have time, all my other duties will be taken up by others or, if they can wait, I will deal with them later."
The young prince stood up. "Come, let us freshen up. After breakfast I will show you more of Lasgalen. Later today I would like to introduce you to Galadhir, he has been a good friend to me. He is one of our novice instructor's and I would like you to meet him."
"Thank you for being honest, Legolas. At least I now know where I stand with your father ... not that I had not realised it before, but still. It is better to know than not to. I am glad that you do not perceive me entirely as an unpleasant chore."
Legolas stretched out his hand to pull Estel up. Instinctively the young man took it, and the feeling of Legolas' cool hand in his own warmer one made his spine tingle all the way down. Their eyes locked again for a moment.
Legolas led him back to the palace. "If you are interested, I show you my rooms. I have to freshen up and put on some other clothes anyway." Estel simply nodded. He had never been in the rooms of a prince.
It was still early in the morning; only few other elves were going about their business, especially after the celebrations of the previous evening. Legolas led the young man up a spiral staircase, until they reached a door on the second level of the palace.
Estel did not quite know what he had expected but he was certainly surprised. He had anticipated a prince's rooms to be somehow ... elaborate, perhaps ostentatious, but Legolas' living room was neither. As with all the rooms in the palace, the walls were of light coloured stone, and large window, or perhaps better, door, led to a wooden balcony. It was framed by light green curtains made out of a silky material, which were gently swaying in the breeze coming in through the large opening.
There was a desk, covered with parchments and other paperwork, and two small settees facing a fire place. Several shelves held some books and other personal items, and a small drawer unit stood against one side. In one corner hung an obviously much used bow and quiver, and a sword. Otherwise, there were no ornaments or wall hangings. Altogether, the room was both simple and airy.
Estel stood for a moment in silence. This room was so different from what he had expected, although, he thought wryly, Legolas was very different from what he expected, so perhaps he should not have been quite so surprised.
"You have a beautiful room, Legolas. Somehow I had imagined the room of a prince to be very different ... a lot more ... well, less ..." Estel realised that he was digging himself into a pit.
But Legolas simply smiled, a somewhat sad smile. "I am afraid I am not a very good prince. Or so my father says. He always tells me that I should show my rank more and that it should be reflected in how I live and dress."
Estel turned to face the young elf. "I do not know you very well yet but I like you the way you are." Again, their eyes met and held, and that unspoken emotion that neither of them wanted to name, stood between them.
There were two doors at the back or the room, one to the side and one in the wall facing the balcony. Legolas opened the side door. He said with a smile: "To complete the guided tour, here is my bedroom, and behind it my washroom."
The bedroom also had a large window, but otherwise only held a bed covered with deep green bedspread, a small table with a lamp and a book on it, a comfortable looking chair next to it, and in a corner, a wardrobe and another drawer unit. Again, the entire room felt airy and serene, a place to come for rest and relaxation.
But what really drew Estel's attention was a small drawing in an intricately carved frame that stood by itself on the small drawer unit. It showed a dark-haired, dark-eyed she-elf with an undeniable resemblance to Legolas.
He walked up to the picture. "Is that your mother?"
Legolas stood behind Estel. "Yes, she is. But she died when I was but two years old. I was not even weaned. I cannot remember her."
"You look like her."
"So I have been told."
"What happened to her?"
"She was attacked by orcs, and tortured. I was found unharmed, but my mother did not survive her physical and mental wounds for long... I have sometimes thought that if it had not been for me, my father would have followed her to the Halls of Mandos. I think he loved her greatly, but I know very little about her – he never speaks of her."
Estel turned around to face Legolas. His grey eyes held sympathy. "My father was killed by orcs, and my mother narrowly escaped the attack with myself. I was very young, and she brought me to Rivendell. Elrond told me that she survived until I was five years old but that she had given up all will to live and to look after herself or me. She faded away eventually, but I have no recollection of her, since she did not look after me since our arrival in Rivendell. It was Elrond, and the twins, who raised me."
They looked at each other again, struck by the similarity of their life story. Then, with a visible effort, Legolas moved. "I must change, and so should you. Do you want to wait for me? It will not take long." As he spoke, Legolas had opened his wardrobe and extracted a pair of leggings and a simple tunic.
He turned and disappeared into his washroom. "I will not be long." Estel sat down on the bed and picked up the book that lay on the small table. It was a much-embellished story of the fortunes of a Southern kingdom. It was, of course, written in Sindarin. Estel was familiar with the book, he had read Elrond's copy several times, and had enjoyed the way in which the author had mixed historical truth and story telling. He was surprised to find Legolas reading such a 'light' book. He became engrossed in the book, he had always liked it. He did not notice when Legolas came out of the bathroom.
"Do you enjoy reading my book?"
Estel blushed and looked up at Legolas. The young prince had washed and braided his hair into the typical warrior braids of Mirkwood, and changed his clothes.
"It's your time to change. I take you back to your room. You won't find the way from here."
Together they went through several staircases and corridors, until they reached Estel's room.
This time it was Legolas who sat down on Estel's bed whilst the young man got himself ready. When he returned from freshening himself up, he, too, had changed into leggings and tunic. He had braided his long dark hair into a loose simple plait that hid his round ears. For a moment, Legolas looked at him silently.
"Estel? ... Let's go for breakfast." But to Estel it sounded as if the prince had wanted to say something else, and he wondered what it had been.
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