This is No Mere Ranger Chapter 5
Sorry for the wait, everyone! Gotta love the endless tests that come with the end of semester…
ANYWAY! Hello again everyone! Fifth chapter! I think that it merits a celebration that I've been able to hang on this long. This plot bunny is actually going somewhere! Thank you for all of the views and reviews! I really appreciate it and I'm glad that you are enjoying it!
FandomFangirl100, I know, I kind of hated myself for breaking it off. But it didn't seem like the right time. And what would this romance be without rising tension? Don't worry, it will come soon, I promise. Thank you for the review!
SparkyTAS, I'm very glad! I hope that you will continue to like it! Thank you for the review!
wendou, thank you very much for your input, it is much appreciated, and your reviews don't sound crazy! Thank you for your reviews, I like hearing what you have to say!
MeggieBlack, I thought that was something that Peter Jackson just added to tie his movies together… Because if he was really keeping true to the Hobbit book, Aragorn would have only been 10 at the time of the BotFA, and still living in Rivendell. I read that somewhere, and I did the math and it seemed legit. Still a cool idea, though. I love that he did that!
Okay, this chapter is going to span what's left of the fortnight before Aragorn learns who he really is, so there will be a lot of random scenes and lots of vague descriptions, and random cute A/L fluff. So enjoy. Oh, and I changed the rating to M, because the next chapter is going to be THE CHAPTER, so just to warn you. There's going to be more than kissing going on.
And now, the chapter. Enjoy! Tell me things I should fix/add/delete/change if you feel so inclined. Any constructive criticism is appreciated!
Chapter 5
Elrond looked up as his son and the Prince from Mirkwood entered the dining hall. The both looked well-rested, and Elrond felt something that had been knotted in his stomach release. He had been worried when Estel had come home to him, bruised and battered, with a pack of Orcs on his tail. His human son always managed to draw such trouble to him, and he had naught a clue how.
Legolas was dressed in a pair of Estel's clothes. The tunic was too large around the shoulders and the trousers slightly too long, rolled up twice. The elf looked nearly like one of their own, with the clothes of Imladris. However, there was a way he held himself that spoke of Thranduil's heir, a tilt of his jaw, the way he looked at people he interacted with, as if he knew something about them that they were not aware of.
Elrond remembered the cold-hearted, hot-headed king of Mirkwood very well, and felt a shiver go down his spine. Never in his life had he met such a temperamental, passionate elf, and he wondered if Legolas was anything like his father. From their brief meeting, he had learned that the elf was much less domineering than Thranduil, and if Estel had taken a liking to him, then he must have a kind enough heart.
"Estel," he said quietly. The table of the elves fell silent. Galadriel looked around at the man and the elf, and smiled at them. "Are you well?"
Estel bowed his head. "Aye, Ada. Le hannon."
"Sais, join us in our feast," Elrond said, motioning with his hand to the greens that were spread out on the table.
Estel nodded and looked over at Legolas, who had bowed his head as well in respect. "We would be honored to join you, Ada."
Elrond waved away his formality, but did not correct it. Estel and Legolas sat down, and began helping themselves to the food. Legolas was unsure of these foods. The forests of Mirkwood had significantly different plants than the forest that surrounded Imladris, and he did not know what would be to his liking. He was embarrassed to ask, however, for it would make him seem uneducated. Legolas sighed inwardly. Perhaps he should have paid attention to more of his tutor's lessons about the other elves. He had been young, and only able to think about what would happen next week and the farthest, and did not see the possible meaning any of those lessons had held.
Oh, I would have done well to listen, Legolas thought with a grimace.
Estel glanced over at Legolas laughed inwardly. The elf had no clue what to eat. He leaned close and said, "Get what I put on my plate," low enough that no one else could hear.
"Le fael," Legolas muttered back, feeling exceptionally foolish. Estel gave Legolas a cheeky grin and continued gathering food on his plate. Legolas mimicked his movements as discreetly as he could but he had the feeling that the other elves knew exactly what he was doing.
"How fares your shoulder, Legolas?" Elrond asked after several minutes in which he and Galadriel were discussing how many bowmen to send to Mirkwood. Legolas started and looked over at Elrond in surprise.
"I—it is much better now, due to your healing. Le fael, mellonin." Legolas dipped his head in a sign of gratitude. Elrond smiled warmly at him.
"Of course. I would help any friend of Thranduil's. Though his temper is swift and unjudged often times, your father is a good leader, Legolas."
"You know my Ada?" Legolas asked, surprised.
Elrond smiled again. "Aye. He has been a comrade throughout the ages."
Estel blinked, but did not ask anything of his father. He had not known that his adoptive father had such ties to the elves of Mirkwood. He spoke of Thranduil as if he knew him well enough to call him mellonin, yet he had made no mention of it to Estel. In fact, Estel could never recall him saying anything of the Mirkwood king beyond a passing comment in all of his time that he had been at Imladris. Legolas looked as confused as he did, but did not speak.
Elrond's eyes had focused somewhere over Legolas's shoulder, as if he was remembering something from a long time ago. After a moment, he seemed to come back to himself and nodded to Legolas. "How long do you plan to say in Imladris?"
"I am of no use to my father to fight with my shoulder in this condition," Legolas said after a moment. "I believe I will remain here until it is functional again, if you will have me."
Elrond inclined his head. "You are welcome to stay as long as you wish, Legolas Greenleaf. I am sure that Estel would be more than happy to show you all of the wonders of Imladris while you stay. This is your first time at our haven, is it not?"
Legolas nodded. "Aye, I have never had the pleasure of laying my eyes on your beautiful lands before."
"Very well." And with that, the Lord of Imladris's attention shifted once again back to Galadriel. "And how long will your duration be?"
"I shall stay with you until our armies return. I have no need to return; I have sent our fastest riders back to send my men."
"Aye, it is a pleasure to have your company here, my lady," Elrond said.
The dinner shifted to more trivial matters after that, and Estel found himself tuning out of what Elrond was saying, instead watching Legolas. The elf was chewing his food slowly, watching the other elves with eyes slightly narrowed, as if he was trying to figure something out. He saw Estel watching and gave him a slight smile and went back to eating.
Estel leaned in close once more and whispered into Legolas's ear, "I am glad that you stay with us, if only for a bit longer." He drew back so that he could see Legolas's reaction. The elf looked over at him, but Estel could not read the look in his eyes. Then, a smile that could rival the brightness of the sun broke over his face.
"And I am glad to be staying as well. It is a refreshing change from the darkening woods of my homeland." He raised his glass, filled with Elrond's finest wine, and toasted Estel, who returned the toast with a flourish.
The fortnight before Midsummer's Even and Estel's twentieth year on Arda flew by quickly, yet tricked by in the lazy afternoons. Estel took Legolas all throughout Imladris, intent on showing him every place he had known since he was a child. They spent the mornings walking the streets, Estel pointing out places of interest. In the afternoons, they would go down to the river, where they would sit on the bank and talk.
They talked about everything and nothing, things that had some importance and things that did not. Estel learned of Legolas's upbringing in the Mirkwood. He learned of Thranduil, the seemingly emotionless king who Elrond claimed to know as a good leader. Legolas told him of great battles and of the forest, whose trees whispered in the winds. They were able to pretend that the shadow of war was not creeping up on them, slowly but surely.
"What of love?" Estel asked on the sixth day of Legolas's stay. Legolas had been lost in a memory of going down a river in a fair boat, six elves rowing in perfect synchronization.
"Love?" Legolas asked in surprise. "What do you wish to know of love?"
Estel propped himself up on one side. They were lying side by side, staring up at the cloudless sky. Legolas turned his head to look at the man. A leaf tickled his sensitive ear, and he moved it slightly more to the side. The man was looking down at him, something unreadable in his eyes. He reached out and brushed a strand of hair from Legolas's face. "You are so fair of face, surely you have had lovers. Multitudes of them."
Legolas laughed. "Oh, Estel, you flatter me so." He sat up. "I am but an elfling compared to many of my kind. Some would say that I have not had enough years to be able to speak of love."
"And what say you?" Estel asked softly, the pad of his thumb ghosting over the elf's cheek. They had not touched again, as they had in the forest or in the bath. Their few touches had held only friendship, as if neither was ready to cross the invisible boundary, the only thing that kept them from being each other's' fully and completely. Duty held Legolas back, as he knew that if he gave himself to the human, he would be loath to leave him for battle and for the cold, emptiness of Mirkwood. Estel was wary of giving his heart so easily to the elf; his life was a mere flash compared to the mortality. And he was restless again, to leave, to go beyond the reach of the protective spells of Imladris, to see Arda.
Legolas looked down. "I thought I loved someone once," he murmured. Estel drew his hand back and set it on his leg, listening. Who had captured his fair elf's heart? Legolas slanted a quick look up at Estel underneath his dark lashes to gauge his reaction. "She was many centuries older than me and one of Thranduil's best bowmen. However, her heart was long dead, buried with her mate's, who had died in the Battle of the Gladden Fields." Estel made a noise of surprise. Legolas looked over at him in surprise.
"So long ago," he said.
"Aye. For you, perhaps. To one of us, a hundred years is a blink of an eye, a thousand a mere breath."
"What happened?" Estel asked after a moment. He felt uncomfortable, being spoken of as if he was a child. He was almost a man, and though he was young by the elves' standards, he was by no means a child.
Legolas sighed. "She told me in the gentlest possible way that it could never happen. I made a proposition to her on Midsummer's Eve, and that is when she told me of her mate's death."
Estel was quiet for a bit. "But there have been no others?"
"Nay," Legolas said quietly. "I learned that love is more painful than it is worth. Though my father says that true love hurts. I believe that I do not want a part of love if it will rend my heart in two."
Something tightened in Estel's chest. Those words should have no effect on him, none at all. Yet they did. "Not all love is doomed to be bittersweet as that," he found himself murmuring.
Legolas turned a curious eye to the man. "And what do you know of love?" he asked. "You are more graceful and well-mannered than most of your kind. I am sure some of the elves would have wanted to try a new flavor."
Estel looked down, feeling light color dusting his cheeks. He had participated in his fair share of stolen kisses and hurried couplings under archways and in Elrond's gardens, but he had never gone so far as to say that he had loved any of the elves. "They have been curious."
Legolas laughed again, and reached forward, tilting Estel's face back up so that he could see it. "Yet you blush over the mere mention, mellonin. I would venture to say that no one has tasted you, not yet."
"It is not kind to make fun," Estel muttered, trying to look away, down, somewhere else than the elf's dancing eyes. He did not correct the elf, for it would seem childish. "And I suppose that you have?" he tried to make a jab back at Legolas, who only laughed and finally released his chin.
"Love and lust are two very different subjects. They are two very different feelings. Aye, I have tasted the fruit of passion, the fruit of lust."
"Is that what we have?" Estel asked, almost quietly enough that Legolas missed it. Legolas had been looking at the grass between them, but at the man's words, he looked up at his face. The man had his eyes cast to the ground as well, but as he looked slowly up, Legolas could see the burning desire to know the truth in his eyes.
Legolas reached out and covered Estel's hand with his own. He could not give him a decisive answer, for he knew not what it was that they had. "I know not what we have, mellonin," he said gently. They did not speak of love after that, but simply sat together in the forest, watching the day go by.
It started simply and completely innocent. Estel followed Legolas up to his room after Elrond's feast the first night, in order to make sure that he did not tear his wound during the night. He slept in a chair near Legolas's bed. It was the same for the second, third and fourth nights. On the fifth, however, Estel was awoken by Legolas sitting upright in bed his hand reaching for his hunting dagger, shouting in Sindarin. Estel had taken ahold of his broadsword and wildly stood up, swinging at the air. After nothing had jumped out at them, Estel had turned to Legolas, who looked as if he was still caught in the nightmare that must have plagued him.
"What ails you, mellonin?" he asked, coming to sit beside Legolas on the bed. Legolas looked at him with wide eyes, as if he did not recognize him. He blinked thrice, and then recognition flooded his eyes. He let out a breath and slumped back, resting his dagger on his thigh. Estel reached out and gently placed his hand on the elf's shoulder. Legolas leaned into the touch, and Estel could feel the archer's slim frame shaking.
"Tolo," Estel murmured, pulling the elf closer to him, wrapping his arms around Legolas and guiding the elf's head to his shoulder. Legolas did not struggle, simply obliged, and soon the shaking stopped. He was left with the haunting of his dream and the smell of the man. He took in deep breaths of the musky scent, wanting to ground himself once again in the land of the living.
Estel drew back, and placed his hands on either side of Legolas's face, drawing it up to meet his gaze. "What ails you, my friend?" he repeated.
Legolas closed his eyes and let out a shuddering breath. "I see them all around me, begging me for mercy, begging me to change their fate. They would not have died if I had not taken them with me. They beg me to join them." He did not need to elaborate on who he was talking about. Estel's eyes were dark with understanding.
"You needed them to come with you," he reassured, stroking his fingers along Legolas's face in reassurance. "And nay, you must not join them, for you still have meaning in this world. You must help us fight this evil that is upon us. They have done their part, and now they may rest. Your part is not yet over."
Legolas was silent for a long time. "You are wise for one of your age," he said finally, looking up at Estel.
Estel smiled slightly. "I have been around Ada too long," he said in a softly teasing voice. Legolas felt his lips twitch up in spite of himself, chasing away the last of the coldness in his heart. Estel saw the last of the sorrow retreat deep in Legolas's eyes and began to pull away, to return to his chair.
"Wait," he murmured. He needed the man's warmth to keep the darkness and the cold at bay. "Sais, join me."
He motioned to the stretch of bed beside him. Estel pondered the bed and then looked back at Legolas. "Are you certain?"
"Aye."
Estel nodded and carefully climbed over the prone figure of the elf and eased himself onto the bed. Legolas watched him, eyes shining in the almost-darkness. Soon, they were settled beside each other, almost close enough to touch, but not quite.
"Le hannon," Legolas murmured after several heartbeats of silence. Estel shushed him with a feather-light brush of a finger over his lips.
"It is no hardship for me," he answered, in just as low a tone of voice. "Sleep now. You need to regain your strength quickly, and sitting awake at night talking will not help you any."
Legolas nearly laughed at the statement, but kept the sound from bubbling up his throat. He obeyed and closed his eyes, a slight smile curling the corners of his lips up. He held completely still as Estel's fingers brushed over his cheek, and brushed a lock of hair from his face, before brushing across his lower lip once more. "I will not sleep if you tease me so," he murmured, his lips brushing against Estel's fingertips again. Something fluttered in his chest and made his heart beat faster as the man's calloused fingers brushed the sensitive skin, but Estel was right. He needed rest. He turned away from the touch and let out a sigh.
"Aye," Estel said, and shifted slightly, Legolas opened his eyes to find him lying on his back, his eyes closed once more. The moonlight filtering through the room turned the man's hair darker and his skin lighter, almost glowingly white. Legolas found himself reaching out to trace a finger over the man's jaw and the slight stubble there. Elves did not grow hair on their faces, and the feeling was completely foreign to Legolas. He remembered the feel of it against his face, and took in a sharp breath. Estel's eyes opened once more and he smiled. "I cannot sleep with you teasing me thus," he said cheekily.
Legolas pulled back. "Goheno nin," he murmured, and turned on his side, and closed his eyes once more. He dreamt of nothing else that night.
After that, it was almost as if it was expected of Estel to rest beside Legolas. There was no question, no hesitation when Estel claimed the far side of the bed instead of his usual chair.
On the sixth night of this new arrangement, Estel felt the bed shift under him, and opened his eyes to see Legolas moving across the room to the balcony. He stood still in the moonlight, in naught but a robe that was loosely tied around his waist, still as a statue. Estel stood up and silently padded to where he stood, head tilted up towards the moon, eyes closed as if he was listening for something.
When he opened his eyes, Estel could see the sheer longing in them, a restless energy that spoke to Estel's own heart. "What is it, mellonin?" he asked, looking out towards the forest.
Legolas sighed. "You must know of the eldeh's love of the sea."
"Aye," Estel said and nodded. He had often heard Elrond regard the sea as another might regard an old-time lover.
"It has been calling to me for some time now," Legolas said, his nostrils flaring, as if he was smelling the salty air. "In my dreams, I hear it calling me back home. I came out to clear my head of the sound of the rushing waves."
"The sea is calling us home," Estel murmured. Legolas did not question this, simply nodded. It was something Elrond had said many a time. He felt the same need, to go beyond Elrond's forests, to see what the world had to offer. He knew of Legolas's plight. "Will you answer it?"
"Nay," Legolas said, shaking his head. He turned away from the forest. "I have something to do, I sense. It will be some time before I can heed its call."
Estel bowed his head. "If there is anything I can do…"
"Nay, mellonin. I thank you, but I do not wish to lose my connection with the sea. It brings me comfort, to know that once I am done here, I can sail to the undying lands with my people."
"Aye," Estel said, and looked out at the forest. "That must be comfort indeed."
Legolas looked back at the man. "You speak as if you have no comfort for your own."
Estel shook his head. "It is nothing," he said. "A young man's folly."
Legolas came to stand beside Estel. "This young man's folly interests me," he murmured. Estel looked over at the elf and smiled.
"I long to go and explore. I wish to know that all that I see is not my existence. There is more in this world than this realm, I know that, and I would like to taste the food of my own kind and drink their ale. I wish to dance among the dwarves in their mines and to speak with a dragon. Perhaps, even lay eyes upon one of the great wizards of old." He paused, taking a deep breath, and tried to control his emotions. "I cannot leave Ada," he said in a much calmer voice. "He has done more than anyone should have, and I cannot abandon him to his realm."
"You would not abandon him, for you would carry him forever in your heart. As he would you." Legolas reached out and placed a hand over Estel's heart, causing the organ to begin beating faster underneath the elf's slender hand.
"Aye, I would," Estel sighed, putting a hand over Legolas's. "But I mean to return, and what if I die before I can return to walk the halls of Imladris? I know that I am mortal, and that my life is a mere blink for one of your kind. What if Elrond does not remember me?" He is all that I have in this world, I could not bear to lose him.
Legolas put his other hand on Estel's shoulder. "He would not forget you."
Estel did not say anything else of the matter, just stood there with the elf, watching the stars twinkle above them for a long while. "I make my choice on Midsummer's Eve," he murmured eventually.
"And Elrond will love you all the same, for any choice that you make. He understands your desire, for he feels the same desire, for the sea and for our homeland. He will not shun you for leaving him," Legolas murmured, resting his head against Estel's shoulder. Estel reached up and wound his fingers in the strands of Legolas's hair that spilled across his shoulder.
"How can you be so sure?" he whispered. "I feel an obligation to stay and help him in any way we can."
"If I were a father, I would not loathe any choice that my kin made," Legolas said. "For I would understand their need for something more than a place like this. You are not obliged to help with anything that you do not wish to, Estel."
Estel let his head rest upon Legolas's. "You comfort me. Le hannon, mellonin."
"I am simply telling you what is so. Let us retire. You are cold." Legolas pulled Estel inside after a few moments, and they both lay back down on the bed. Estel lay awake for a long time, pondering what Legolas had said, until his heavy eyes drew shut and he dreamed of dancing with a dragon through the long tunnels of a dwarfish mine.
The day before Midsummers Eve trickled by so slowly that Estel had to fight his impatience, yet went too quickly at the same time Legolas's shoulder was nearly healed by this time, and he had told Elrond over dinner that he planned to return the Midsummers Day after the festivities had ended.
All of Imladris was preparing for the feast and the festivities. Eldeh were preparing all kinds of food for everyone to indulge in, and the glen down by the river was to be decorated as it was every year for all of the inhabitants of Imladris, as well as anyone else who happened to be passing through on Midsummers Eve.
In Imladris and all of the other Elven cultures, Midsummers Eve and Day were celebrated much the same. The feast would start at midday on Midsummers Eve, and would not stop until midday a day later. There would be singing and dancing until the moon reached its highest point. At that point, the elves would all fall silent. Not a sound would be heard in the forest save the trees whispering among themselves, until the sun rose once again. They would usher in the dawn with songs of their people, songs of summer and the death of spring. Estel had never been allowed to the festivities before by Elrond, for apparently, there were many things that happened to usher in the time of the sun that "young eyes should not see." That had not stopped him from hiding in the forest and watching the proceedings with interest.
However, as Estel was to turn a man on Midsummers Eve, he would be allowed to attend for the first time. The first time he would be allowed to attend at Elrond's consent at least. Estel smiled at that, forgetting his heavy heart for the moment.
"How do you celebrate Midsummers?" he asked Legolas as they walked the halls of Imladris. Legolas looked over at him with surprise.
"No different than you celebrate yours, I am guessing," he said. "Although we cannot hold it in the forest any longer, for the woods have grown dark and unforgiving. We have it indoors."
Estel shook his head. "Bringing in the summer without even being in the forest? That must be hard for you."
"Aye." Legolas did not elaborate, and Estel pushed no further. The rest of the day passed with little consequence. There was only one thing that stuck in Estel's mind. Elrond had found Legolas and Estel as they returned to Legolas's room.
"Find me before the moon reaches its highest point tomorrow night and I will tell you all that you need to know to make your decision about staying or leaving," he had said to Estel. The words had left him breathless. Elrond knew something that would influence his decision? What could it be? The name and location of a relative, perhaps?
After a sleepless night in which he had watched the steady, gentle rise and fall of Legolas's chest as he slept, Estel only felt more confused. He longed to hear what Elrond had to tell him, but at the same time he knew that it would change him. He would not be able to go back to being carefree and young as he had before.
"Estel," Legolas said softly, sitting beside him. They were at the river bank again, and Estel was peering down into the river at his reflection, but not focusing on it. "Mellonin, you cannot worry the day away." He reached over and placed a single slim finger underneath Estel's chin and drew his face up so that he could look him in the eye. "Whatever Elrond tells you, you are still the same man."
"Perhaps not," Estel said. Legolas put the finger under Estel's chin on his lips, silencing him quite effectively.
"You are a good man, and no matter what Elrond will tell you, you still have the same heart, the heart that I find that I am coming to care for."
Estel's eyes met the elf's. "Legolas?" The elf smiled serenely at Estel, who was wondering if he had misheard. He opened his mouth to ask as much, but before he could utter a syllable, Legolas was pulling him to his feet, to his chest. Estel's noise of surprise was cut off as Legolas crushed his lips to the man's. Estel's lips parted in surprise, and then he remembered himself and matched the fervor with which the elf was kissing him.
At first it was desperation that fueled their passion. The man and the elf clutched at each other as if they were each other's only lifeline in the middle of the ocean. Estel had to break away first to catch his breath after several heartbeats of this frantic passion. He placed his hands on the elf's chest and slid them upwards, to tangle in the silky locks of hair. Legolas leaned his forehead against Estel's and cupped his hands around the man's face.
They stayed like that for several moments, panting, their eyes closed and completely caught up in the moment. Estel captured Legolas's lips again when he found breath again. This time, it was sweet and tender, slow and unhurried. Legolas let out a noise of contentment that was lost between their lips as Estel's tongue brushed his lower lip, searching for an invitation which Legolas was more than happy to provide.
Soon their tongues were twining together, and Estel felt something hot running through him like a second heartbeat. He somehow knew that no matter how much he kissed the elf, there would be no damper on the physical and emotional feelings it brought to him. Nothing had ever compared to this and nothing ever would.
Legolas's hands were sliding down his neck to trace the edge of his shirt, the clasp, and soon his nimble fingers had undone the clasp and he was touching bare flesh. Estel let out a breath as Legolas's fingers skimmed over his collarbone and down one pectoral, his fingernails grazing the smooth, unmarred skin. Estel drew in a sharp breath at the unexpected touch. Legolas broke away, the silent question in his eyes, but Estel shook his head and leaned forward to press a light kiss to Legolas's cheek and then his ear. The elf's hands slid up to Estel's shoulders and grasped them hard as Estel gently bit the elf's ear.
"By the Valar," he breathed, looking up at the cloudless sky. "You know how to pleasure an elf."
"Aye," Estel said, smiling against the elf's neck. "I am not as inexperienced as you might think, mellonin."
Legolas attempted to say something else, but then his words fell to dust as Estel reclaimed his lips. He closed his eyes once more. This feeling was something that he could get used to. Electric energy raced through his veins, like fire but even hotter and even more lethal. It was exhilarating and it almost felt like—
Legolas pulled away. What he had said to the man was true. He had come to care for Estel in a way that he did not fully comprehend, but just then, in that moment, he got a glimpse of it, and it shocked him. He had not known the depths of his feelings.
"Did I hurt you?" Estel asked, running a finger over Legolas's swollen lips. Had he perhaps bitten them too sharply?
"Nay," Legolas said. "Do not worry about wounding me."
"What troubles you?" It was such a simple question, and yet it held so much weight. Legolas felt something in his chest tighten. He wanted to tell Estel, ed' l'ear ar' elenea, he wanted to, but he could not. Legolas was not used to sharing his emotions. With only Thranduil and Thranduil's men for company, he had forgone expressing anything to anyone. Thranduil would just mock it and tell him that emotions such as these made him weak.
He remembered the last time he had been foolish enough to allow himself the indulgence of speaking his true feelings to someone. "You will not find what you are looking for here. I am sorry, I cannot give you what you seek." Her words had been gentle, but they had been resolute. She had been meant for her one love, and him alone. Legolas would go to great pains to avoid that kind of rejection again. "Nothing," he sighed after a moment. Estel looked ready to protest, so Legolas pressed a quick kiss to his lips. "I am simply thinking."
"Thinking? On what?" Estel drew away and began working at the clasp of his shirt, to redo it. Legolas stilled his hand and slid his fingers over the man's smooth skin once again. He inhaled deeply. It felt so right, what they had. He shook his head.
"My return to my king."
Estel lowered his eyes. "Aye. You must return, and I will not see you again in my short mortal life. I know how it must play out.
"It does not have to be that way. Thranduil must return here someday. Though I cannot ask you to wait for me. I know how deep the longing in your blood lies. If you must leave, do so."
Estel turned away from the elf. The sudden panic that had rushed through him at the mention of Legolas's departure was completely foreign to him. "Aye," he murmured.
"Let us forget our troubles," Legolas said, pulling Estel back to face him. "We have yet a day and a night. We will not squander it by fretting over futures we cannot possibly foresee."
"You are ever wise," Estel murmured, leaning his head against the elf's shoulder. He breathed in the smell of the woods and the wild that Legolas always seemed to be wreathed in. It was a scent that would haunt Estel for the rest of his life, he knew that already. "Aye, let us treasure these few moments we still have for ourselves."
Legolas wrapped his arms around the man once more and held him close to his chest. He could pretend, if only for a while, that all was right in the world and that this man belonged completely to him. He did not have obligations back in Mirkwood, he was an elf who did as he pleased when he felt so swayed to do so. It was a pretty lie, and all too believable, breathing in the scent of the man, who seemed to make him forget everything that was bad in this world of his.
"I will stay with you as long as I can, mellonin," Legolas told Estel, who did not respond. He felt the barest brush of lips upon his neck, and then the man pulled away.
"Le hannon, mellonin," he responded. "I would be honored to have you by my side through Midsummers Eve and Day."
"And I you." Legolas bowed his head. A glint of light caught his eye, and he glanced up. Three riders on white steeds approached the gates of Imladris at a fast gallop. From this distance, Legolas could only tell that they were Elrond's elves and that they were in bad shape. "Estel," he said. At the sharpening of the elf's voice, Estel looked up and followed Legolas's gaze. He paled. "It's Elrond's sons, Elladan and Elrohir. The twins were meant to return tomorrow. We should inform Elrond of their return."
"Aye," Estel said, and took off at a run for his father's study, Legolas hot on his heels.
"Estel," Elladan called as he rode up. Estel looked over at him. The dark-haired elf was bleeding from a slash on his temple, painting the side of his face red. Elrohir leapt off of his horse and helped his brother down. The moment Elladan was off of his horse, he sagged against Elrohir, who struggled to support the elf's full weight.
"What happened?" Estel asked, coming over to the twins. He touched the skin right beneath the wound. The blood was cold and tacky. At least the bleeding had stopped. He turned Elladan's head to the side and inspected the wound more thoroughly.
"We were ambushed by Orcs," Elrohir said, spitting the last word as if it was the vilest of curses. "They caught us by surprise."
"Aye, there are many Orcs wandering these woods," Estel said.
"Where is Ada?" Elrohir asked urgently as Elladan's head rolled back onto his brother's shoulder.
"In his study, or down at the clearing," Estel said. "Legolas," he started, but Legolas had already started back down the way they had come. He nodded at Estel, who murmured a quick thank you and then turned back to the twins. "Let me aid you," he said, slipping an arm around Elladan's waist. "We can take him to Ada's study. Legolas will find him if he is not there already."
"Legolas," Elrohir grunted as they hoisted the elf up the steps of the hall. "The prince of Mirkwood?"
"Aye."
"What business does he have in Imladris?"
"The King sent him. Why have you come home early? You were meant to return tomorrow." They quickly carried Elladan down the hall quickly.
"We saw Ada's army marching with the Lady of Light's men, and we knew not what had gone wrong. We made haste to return, thinking the worst," Elrohir said.
"They march to Mirkwood. There is an evil between our forests, up in the Misty Mountains that threatens to destroy Middle Earth. The Witch King of the legends of old is there," Estel said, sliding out from under the weight of Elladan to knock on Elrond's door. There was no answer. Estel paused. He had been instructed to never enter Elrond's study without permission, as it was quite rude to burst in on the Lord of Rivendell, but he feared he had no choice in this matter.
He opened the door and directed Elrohir to set Elladan down on the settee. Once he had settled him in, Estel grabbed the nearest piece of fabric and began dabbing at Elladan's forehead. "The cut is shallow," he said after a moment, letting out a breath. It had simply sliced through the flesh, but had not scraped bone, and would not cause any lasting effects. Head wounds tended to bleed profusely, no matter how shallow they happened to be. It was hard to tell how bad a wound could be with all of the blood around it. Estel let out a breath and leaned back. "He is okay," he told Elrohir, who was hovering around Estel like a bird looking for a perch on his shoulder. "The bleeding has stopped and it is a shallow wound. He will be fine."
Legolas burst into the office a few heartbeats later, Elrond only inches behind him. "Yondonya," Elrond said, dropping to his knees beside Estel. He looked over at Estel. "How does he fare?"
Estel repeated what he had told Elrohir, and Elrond let out a breath. He reached out and touched his son's forehead. He closed his eyes and murmured something in Sindarin. Estel felt something shift in the air. It wasn't an audible breeze or a sound, but something shifted as Elrond called upon the magic of Imladris to heal his son.
Elladan's eyes, which had closed upon being lain on the settee opened up as the wound on his forehead closed. He hissed out a breath, and tried to sit up. "Erde, yondonya. You have lost much blood," Elrond said gently, his hand keeping his son down. Elladan's eyes met Elrond's.
"We made it," he murmured, and then he closed his eyes.
Elrond let out a breath. "Le fael," he said to Legolas.
"Sais," Legolas said, bowing his head. "It was Estel who sent me."
Elrond's eyes shifted to Estel. "Le fael," he repeated softly, reaching out and gripping Estel's shoulder. "To the both of you." He stood and straightened his robe. There was blood on his hand, which he did not seem to notice as he smeared it over the midnight fabric. Estel opened his mouth to tell him of that, but Elrond cut him off. "The festivities are about to begin. If you would like to go to the clearing, I will join you shortly in feast."
"Aye, Ada," Estel said, standing and bowing. Legolas hesitated a moment, looking at Elrond, who nodded. Legolas bowed once more and joined Estel and the door. As soon as they were out of the door. Legolas grasped Estel's hand. He drew it to his lips and brushed the knuckles softly. Estel shivered but did not pull back.
"Will you join me for Midsummers Eve?" Legolas murmured.
Estel turned his hand so that he could twine his fingers with Legolas's. "Of course."
Legolas drew away with a wickedly beautiful grin. "Tolo," he said, not letting go of Estel's hand. "Let us sing, and dance and make merry." Estel followed without a question.
Another horrible place to end, but it's getting really long. Sorry, guys. So, yeah. This chapter dragged on and on for me and I'm not completely sure it's not total crap. But hey, I'm trying. It's almost to the part we've all been waiting for, so that's good! Right?
I mentioned a few things that may or may not imply Thranduil/Elrond, if you ship them. (I do…. I see a fanfic in the future) so please excuse those random references.
Okay, onto the Elvish.
La fael—Thank you (Like thank you very, very much.)
Mellonin—my friend
Le hannon—yet another way to say thank you (more casual and such)
Eldeh—elf
Arda—another name for Middle Earth
Valar—the first I don't know, people? put on Middle Earth to battle evil
Ed' l'ear ar' elenea—By the sea and the stars
Yondonya—my son
Erde—Rest
Tolo—Come