Chapter 25: The Fellowship of the Ring

Chapter Text

Beta: the wonderful Anarithilen of course.

Chapter 25: The Fellowship of the Ring.

Far away in Imladris, Berensul led Legolas along winding stony paths between the fading roses that were finally, it seemed, turning brown in the winter and dropping petals onto the path. Legolas followed because Berensul had been so insistent and he could not think of a way not to do as he asked. At last they came to a small terrace amongst the lawns and roses. There was a stone bench on it and it looked out over the deep gorge of the Bruinen and above them the Mountains loomed. Legolas felt it was a spectacular but not a comfortable view. He felt suddenly homesick for the Wood, for the beech trees and oaks, and the small forest river that gurgled rather than roared as did the Bruinen.

'I have missed you,' Berensul said, turning to him at last. His eyes were bright with excitement and Legolas winced inwardly. He had changed, he felt different. Something in him had shifted on the journey to Phellanthir but he could not say what. It is the poison, he reminded himself. I am still sick with it.

'Legolas,' said Berensul, and his fingers twisted in a long lock of pale gold hair, tugged gently so that Legolas lifted his eyes to Berensul's face.

'I am not supposed to go out of the garden,' he said, hiding behind the convenience of illness. 'Limnauth will not let me out again if she finds me gone.' Still, he sat on the stone bench beside Berensul and looked down at his feet. His boots were looking worn and scuffed, he thought. Scruffy. Not like any Prince, not even of Mirkwood. He had not felt like this in the Wild.

'Oh, I can persuade Limnauth to look the other way. Do not fear,' Berensul boasted softly, and he cupped his hand round Legolas' neck, drawing him towards him.

Legolas blinked and pulled back. 'You cannot mean you will seduce her too?' he asked, a little shocked.

Berensul laughed again. 'Of course not! But there are other ways I can persuade her to do as I wish.'

Legolas liked Limnauth; she had looked after him. 'You will not hurt her, or get into any trouble,' he said sternly.

Berensul smiled and pulled him close. 'I missed you.' Berensul leaned in and softly pressed his lips against Legolas'. ' I swear to you I will do nothing to harm Limnauth. Does that please you?' He pushed his tongue easily between Legolas' lips. 'I wish only to please you,' he murmured. 'I know this is just pleasure. Nothing more.'

Legolas said nothing but the sensation of warmth on his mouth was sweet and he was a little lonely. And so easily roused.

Berensul stroked his hair back from his face. 'I have thought often of our love-making. The night you left…' His breath stroked Legolas' ear and he shivered with delight at the tingling sensation, the stroke of desire along his cock. He felt himself stiffen. But he did not want this now and looked away, struggling to control himself.

Berensul whispered against his neck, let his hand drift along his thigh. 'Do you not want me anymore?'

Sighing, Legolas took his hand and evaded his gaze. 'It is not that I do not want you,' he said slowly. 'I do. I have enjoyed being with you.' He chewed his lip anxiously, wondering how to say this for he wanted to be honest but he did not want to hurt Berensul for he had been kind when Legolas first arrived in Imladris. No matter that Berensul's motive for kindness had been to seduce Legolas, no matter that he had lied to do so. 'You have Elemé though,' Legolas said finally. 'And I find it difficult to love… when the other's heart is already taken.'

Berensul drew back a little and looked at Legolas. His eyes were bright and his long dark hair gleamed in the pale winter sunlight. He looked down at Legolas' hand in his. 'I am not a fool,' he said. He gave a quick, tight smile. 'It is not my heart but yours that is taken. I know not who has taken it in such a short time and in the Wild, but I see it in your eyes.'

Legolas stared at him in astonishment. 'That is not true!' he protested.

Berensul shook his head and lifted Legolas' hand to his lips, pressed a kiss against his palm. 'I cannot think who, but I see it as clearly as if you had written it. But I hope you will realise that not one of them you rode with would return your love. Though Erestor would take your body if you offered….'

Legolas pulled his hand away in shock. His heart taken? 'No! That is not true!' he said again.

Berensul cocked his head and peered at Legolas. 'You are smitten,' he said. 'It is not Aragorn for I watched the way you were with him when you arrived. And it is not Amron for you were the same with him, but you looked strangely at Saeldir and he at you. Be careful of him. He will not appreciate any advances. But my true guess is Glorfindel.' He gave Legolas a sideways glance and his bright eyes were merry and he smiled saucily. 'You would certainly not be the first. Or the last! Though you are very fair of face and honourable and brave. Who could not love you?' He reached up and touched Legolas' smooth cheek. 'Glorfindel is kind but his heart is ice. Many have tried to melt it and none have succeeded. You will not win him.'

Legolas looked away and in doing so, moved away from Berensul's hand. 'I am not…' He paused. He was not in love with Glorfindel, he knew. But he did admire him. He frowned. Why would Berensul say his heart was taken when it clearly had not been? 'I admire Glorfindel of course,' he protested. 'Who could not? But he is so far above me. I could not think of him in that way.' He did not say he had tried. That night he had been hard and rigid with the fever, he had tried to think of Glorfindel and found he could not; it seemed almost a sacrilege. Instead he had found relief in images of….of….And then it struck him.

Elrohir. His lips parted and he tore his gaze from Berensul.

'I see you have remembered something,' Berensul said shrewdly. He smiled gently. 'He does not know, whoever it is. I see that. You did not know until now, I see that too.'

Legolas pushed himself to his feet and took three strides away from the bench. He could not speak.

He remembered his first sight of Elrohir, striding out of the western sun, burning with power.

…A long window looked west at the end of the passage and the sun flooded through, blinding him. Legolas walked hesitantly towards it and the wide stone staircase that swept around and down towards the Hall of Fire when he thought the air shifted and the Song changed. His felt his blood thrum and his heart suddenly pounded in his chest.

His feet faltered and he stopped, leaned against the cold stone and let his head rest back against the wall .

Was there the scent of snow, clean and cold on the mountains? And high, high above he thought he heard an eagle cry... a deep rhythm pounded in his veins, drums beating like a heart, a strong heart, noble, and a crimson light flooded the air around him. Warmth and heat caressed him.

He turned again towards the long window and lifted his head to stare at a warrior who strode towards him it seemed out of the setting sun - long raven-black hair like silk worn loose and flowing, he was tall and broad shouldered, a swordsman not an archer, light on his feet and clad in black leather close to his skin. His grey eyes stared straight ahead and he barely registered Legolas, simply strode past, but the light, the air, surged about Legolas and he felt time had slowed and his destiny approached...and passed. He turned, lips parted and eyes wide, staring after the warrior...and the crimson power surged around him, ebbed with his passing and left Legolas breathless and limp.

The warrior turned his head after he had passed as if Legolas had called to him, and his eyes were wide and starlit grey. He stared but he did not stop, and turned away again.

Legolas reached out to steady himself against the stone sill of the window and leaned his forehead against the cold wall, breathing hard.

He felt like steadying himself now for the dizziness the image invoked in him. He paused, thought about it for a moment and another image thrust itself at him: the glorious sight of Elrohir riding down the Orcs in the skirmish on the banks of the Bruinen.

… sunlight flashing on silver armour and sable cloak swirling round him, long night-silk hair streaming in the wind as he charged the Orcs upon his black steed, blood on his lip, a smear on his cheek, eyes bright and gleaming.

And later when he found Legolas' arrow in the impaled Orc, standing furiously over him so Legolas thought he might fall upon him and ravish him in his fury…He closed his eyes and he found himself stiffening. After all, it was Elrohir he saw when he had tried to relieve himself of the dreadful pounding lust that possessed him during the fever. It was Elrohir he imagined leaning against him, pressing him into the ground, and pushing his tongue as deeply as he could, wanting to fill, to plunge into his mouth and Legolas had seen himself willingly opening for him, sucking him in, tongue pushing back. Elrohir plunging downwards, raking into Legolas' body, wrestling him to the ground and stripping him bare. Legolas saw himself sprawled beneath Elrohir in disgraceful abandon, wantonly subdued and Elrohir himself plunging into him.

But Elrohir looked at him with nothing but contempt and fury since he had put that Orc out of its misery. He sighed. Even before that, Elrohir had spoken of him, looked at him in a dismissive way as if he were of no more consequence than the mud on his boot.

How could he feel desire?

No, he told himself. This was just a passing lust. It was the fever. It was the poison in his blood. Hero worship combined with the poison had made him throb with desire, for he had always admired the Sons of Thunder, dreamed of meeting them as much as he had dreamed of meeting Glorfindel. But whereas meeting Glorfindel was everything he had dreamed and more, Elrohir was a jealous, angry, cruel and unpleasant man, he decided. And he would not care if he never set eyes upon him again.

'It is not love,' Legolas said firmly. 'Lust maybe…' He looked at his worn boots again. Yes. It was the fever and poison. He never wanted to even see Elrohir again. A little misery slipped into his heart and telling himself that it was disappointment that his hero despised him, he ruthlessly squashed it.

As if he sensed Legolas' thoughts, Berensul stroked Legolas' hand with his thumb. 'You are not well enough to leave so you will stay until the Spring.' He said it as if it had been told him. 'We can be friends,' he said.

Legolas raised his head. 'I cannot stay until the Spring. I am needed. I will go South to Caradhras or the Gap of Rohan to make my way home.'

Berensul stole a look at him. 'Can you not relent? Surely they can spare you until the spring? Who is it you love?'

Legolas shook his head and turned to Berensul. 'It is true that there are those amongst our troop whom I found I could desire, but it was only the poison. And Aragorn says this particular poison has that after-effect. So my heart is definitely not taken.'

Berensul smiled teasingly then. 'It must be my lord, Glorfindel, then. Everyone is at least half in love with him. How could you not be?' He sighed.

Legolas laughed for it was close enough and he could escape all thoughts of Elrohir this way. 'He is above all of that. I do not think he even thinks such base thoughts.'

'I might steal a kiss from him if I could,' Berensul replied, grinning. And suddenly all the ease of their friendship returned and Legolas remembered how Berensul had looked after him, and his kindness. And Legolas himself had not been truthful either for he concealed his status, and Berensul had forgiven him as he should forgive Berensul his lie. He turned and smiled at Berensul.

'Let us be friends then,' he said decisively and immediately Berensul leaned in for a kiss. At first Legolas pulled back, but Berensul cupped the back of his head and pulled him close. And he had a wicked tongue so Legolas, feeling himself rock hard again and wanting another's hand on him, let him.

'You still have your old room,' Berensul said breathlessly. 'Go there as if you want something from your room and I will see you there… two minutes.' Then he looked at Legolas and added, 'I know this is what it is. Nothing more.'

Legolas stared at him, at Berensul's long, black hair and a flicker of images ran unbidden through his mind and left him breathless. He shook himself free of them; it is poison and fever, he reminded himself. It is Berensul who is here.

Berensul leaned towards him and cupped his face, stroked his thumb over Legolas' mouth. 'Come, Legolas,' he said and his eyes were very bright and his mouth warm. Legolas felt a pounding desire and knew he was weak, knew he should resist… but he did not really know quite why…

'Elemé?' he remembered suddenly, pulling back.

'Has a fickle heart,' Berensul replied shortly and turned away quickly. Legolas caught his hand.

'What happened?'

'I caught her out, with another.'

Legolas smiled and shook his head. 'Has this happened before?' he asked wryly. 'Is this not what you have done with me?'

Berensul looked at him angrily. 'No…' Then looked down. 'Maybe…'

'Maybe it has happened before or maybe this is why you are seducing me?' Legolas asked.

Berensul looked down at the ground. 'It is not why I am seducing you. And I am not really seducing you, Legolas. You are seducing me!'

Legolas laughed a little and then persisted, 'And how many times have you caught Elemé out?'

'Maybe three times…or four. It could be twice each.'

Legolas laughed loudly and then coughed for it still hurt in his chest. 'You have each found the other with someone else? Twice?' he asked slightly incredulously. 'Surely you cannot be hurt now?'

'She was with Lindir, the minstrel, to get back at me for sleeping with you.' Berensul looked miserable and hung his head. He picked at the lichen miserably so that Legolas (who had often frustrated his father and amused his brothers by bringing home various injured or weak animals, insects and reptiles to be 'nursed' back to strength, and was as soft-hearted as he was deadly) sighed.

'You are in love with Elemé? Truthfully?'

Berensul would not look up and picked even more intently at lichen that grew on the stone bench. He nodded once and Legolas asked, mildly bemused, 'Why do you dally with me then?'

Berensul looked at him then, a little incredulously and opened his mouth to speak but Legolas, knowing that it may well be lies that came from Berensul's mouth, shook his head and smiled slightly, and put his finger against Berensul's lips. 'My friend, I think you should not toy with me further for my patience grows thin. Go and find Elemé. Tell her you have refused me because you love her and that you have left me quite heart-broken and forlorn. I will act accordingly if she should see me.'

He smiled again, and though he did not know it, Berensul was captivated all over again at his sweetness.

'Go,' said Legolas, shoving him gently and smiling. 'Go to Elemé and tell her you are a fool.'

Berensul leaned in again, quite hopelessly and Legolas laughing, shoved him away. 'Go! I will not dally with you any further! If you stay I will be forced to tie you up and leave you for Erestor!' He pushed himself to his feet and took three strides away from Berensul and then turned, one hand raised palm up to stop Berensul from following. 'You are wasting your time with me, Berensul. Go!'

Berensul gave him a lingering look and would, Legolas was sure, have followed him but heavy steps came from behind them, in the direction of the House, and a Man walked towards them, head down and a pensive expression on his strong face. Boromir suddenly looked up and looked startled, his eyes darting first to Berensul and then to Legolas.

A surprised smile lit up Boromir's face when he saw it was Legolas. 'Legolas! I thought you must have returned to Mirkwood!' He nodded to Berensul, who gave one last look towards Legolas, full of lingering desire.

'Go,' he said firmly and turned back to Boromir, deliberately ignoring Berensul now.

Legolas greeted Boromir warmly for he was pleased to see him and had wondered why he had not seen the Man. 'No I am still here as you see. I have been delayed,' he said.

'Well I for one am glad of it,' Boromir declared and clapped him on the shoulder.

Legolas winced and dipped his shoulder away from Boromir's grasp for the pain was shocking and he had thought it almost healed. 'I have been recovering from an injury,' he explained apologetically.

'I have hurt you?' Boromir was mortified and clasped Legolas gently by the arm to steady him. He looked him and up and down in concern. 'How did that happen?'

'I was careless,' Legolas said dismissively, still disgusted with himself and for his own stupidity. 'An Orc blade nicked me, it was coated in a poison, and I did not even know.'

'It happens,' Borormir said generously. He sat beside Legolas where Berensul had sat only moments ago and stared out across the plunging river to the Mountains that loomed overhead. 'I have been near death myself from a wound that I allowed to fester. My captain beat me soundly for it once I had recovered.' He gave a short laugh and Legolas stared at him in disbelief.

'Surely you jest? He beat you?'

'It does not matter.' But Legolas thought there was hurt in the Man's voice and thought that it did matter, but Boromir had as little a wish to pursue it as he had of being asked about his own wound.

'Tell me of your quest against the muster of Orcs in the High Pass,' he asked instead for he was curious and now that he was healing, he wanted to start planning his journey home. He needed to know if the High Pass was closed to him.

Boromir shoved his hands under his thighs and shivered, pulling his thick heavy cloak about his shoulders more tightly. Legolas was not wearing a cloak at all although their breath frosted on the air.

'Well everything I thought of the Elves has been turned on its head,' Boromir confessed as though he had forgotten that Legolas was an Elf. 'They fight like nothing I have ever seen before. They are more agile and more swift that any Man I have ever seen and they can hit anything at a distance with greater accuracy.'

Legolas listened less to the words than to the manner of the telling; it was like receiving a report from a captain and he could not understand every word for Boromir's accent was strange, overly pronounced and a little nasal. It was clear that Boromir was impressed with the campaign, as he analysed the moves and actions of the Imladrian army approvingly. Legolas found himself intrigued and infected by Boromir's interest. The Man described the great prowess of both Elrond and Erestor, but he spoke reverently too of Gandalf, his great sword Glamdring and the staff he wielded that was of fire.

'It will be an honour to walk with Gandalf into Mordor to destroy the Ring,' Boromir concluded and Legolas thought how strong and noble Boromir was, that he was but a Man with such a short life, and yet willingly walked into such a place of death. 'And from what you say, Legolas, Gimli too is a doughty warrior. I feel comforted to have such company.' He turned and looked at Legolas. 'And what of you? Will you return to your Wood and continue your fight against the Shadow?'

'Yes.' Legolas sighed. 'But from what you say the High Pass is closed and too risky now, even though you vanquished the Orc army. As you say, they retreated into the mountains and Elrond dared not follow. I am not such a fool to take the risk. I will seek the Redhorn Pass which will be clear, and come down on the other side, take the road North along the edge of the Wood.' But even as he said this, he felt a thrill of fear that he would be alone on the edge of the Southern Wood.

'Then your path follows ours surely?'

'It does,' Legolas replied doubtfully. 'But your mission is so secret that I do not think Gandalf will welcome taggers along.'

'I do not think anyone would think of you as a tagger-along!' Boromir laughed and Legolas thought it a rich, warm laugh. He decided he liked Boromir very much. 'You would add to our number and be welcome, by some of us at least. Perhaps you should ask him,' Boromir continued. 'He is fond of you and surely he owes you safe passage at least since it was at his bidding that you kept this Gollum who seems to have wrought so much evil in your Wood. Why do you not ask him?'

Legolas pulled at one of his braids, thinking about it. He would certainly be happier travelling over the Mountains in company and there was not one of the company so far that he did not like and respect. Perhaps that was not such a foolish idea. And perhaps they would be glad of his bow. He admitted too that he was sad at the thought of parting with his new friends and simply letting them go off into such mortal peril without doing anything to ease their path in any way that he could.

Gimli the Dwarf was with you, was he not?' Boromir asked. 'He is chosen as one of the companions to the Ringbearer. So there is now Frodo himself, Gandalf, Gimli, Aragorn and me. I wonder who else will go.'

'Sam,' Legolas spoke with absolute conviction. 'He will not be parted from Frodo. And Merry and Pippin are his cousins and have got him this far. I cannot see that they would be willing to turn aside now.'

'Really?' Boromir turned to look at him in surprise. 'Surely Mordor is no place for Hobbits? Elrond will send them both home, will he not?'

Legolas shrugged and looked off into the distance. 'They faced the Nine and did not abandon Frodo or the Ring. That deed alone is worthy of song.' He smiled with affection for his new friends and realised why his father had such deep respect for Bilbo. 'I do not think they will go home when Frodo faces such peril.' Beneath the gentle humour and kindness, he thought, was a steel and resolve that was unusual, and a loyalty that was rare indeed. He smiled. 'Sam will never leave Frodo's side. If the world came to an end around them, he would not leave.'

'Then there is but one place in the Company left to fill,' Boromir said. They looked out over the Bruinen and it poured and rushed over the mountain rocks and boulders like some sleek animal. 'It will be Glorfindel surely?'

Legolas murmured agreement.

'Or perhaps Elrond's sons?'

Legolas said nothing. That would change everything. He did not think Elrohir would welcome his company, whether it was travelling over the mountains or walking through a garden. And he was not sure if he wanted to be within miles of the compelling, violent, intense warrior. Son of Thunder indeed.

0o0o0o

Gandalf sat easily in a wide chair that was well padded and comfortable. For the first time in quite a while he felt in control of things and puffed on his long clay pipe with pleasure. Beside him was Gimli Gloinsson, for whom he had always had a soft spot, remembering how he had clamoured to join the Quest for Erebor though he was far too young. But Gandalf had seen a spark in him that called to something in him too, and when Gimli walked in through the doors of Imladris, another piece clicked into place. Much as the appearance of young Thranduillion, he thought squinting down the length of his pipe to check the pipeweed was sufficiently lit. Meneldor would have delivered Gandalf's message to Thranduil by now, the Wizard thought, and hoped that the Eagle had been sufficiently tactful to ensure Thranduil was not heading this way as fast as a horse, or Eagle, could carry him….

'Hmm.' That had not occurred to him until now. Indeed it was more than likely that one, or indeed all of Thranduil's family were on their way to Imladris to ensure their precious youngest's safe return. No matter, Gandalf mused. They would be gone by then and he had indeed promised Thranduil that he personally would guarantee Legolas' safe passage over the Mountains. And this he knew would be done.

Beyond that, of course, he could not see. In fact, beyond that things got very murky indeed and he was not sure about even his own safety beyond the Mountains…There was a blurring in his foresight. Like everything was seen through smoke. He stared into the middle distance and chewed the end of his pipe… Perhaps Galadriel could see more clearly, he thought.

'Ah, the young rascals!' A voice interrupted his thoughts and he blinked and slowly returned to the present. Gimli had risen to his feet and was looking down into the garden.

Gandalf leaned forwards and saw that Pippin was creeping up on Merry, who sat upon a bench and swung his feet. Frodo had spotted Pippin was keeping his cover but his eyes were bright and laughing.

Even as Pippin leapt upon Merry, two more figures appeared in the garden and Gandalf saw with pleased surprise that it was Boromir and Legolas was with him. The Man looked more at ease than he had all the time he had been in Imladris and Gandalf glanced across the lawns and balconies to where he knew Elrond had been standing, watching the Hobbits. A smile crept over the Wizard's face when he saw the contemplative expression on his old friend's face.

The Company, he thought, was complete.

0o0o0o

Maybe one or two more chapters on this one. Just a reminder that I wrote Deeper than Breathing first, then Sons of Thunder and then this- so although they are chronological, there ARE discrepancies and I had not intended this to be a prequel when I started writing it. Please do let me know if anything sticks out.