Title: Betrothal to an Elf Part 4 Author: Inwë Sáralondë Email: mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Legolas/Lindir, Elrohir/Lothvaen Rating: PG Summary: Legolas asks Lindir a question. Genre: Romance Word count: 621 Warnings: None Beta: Aglarien Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this. Authors Note: The prompts used were 14 Apr 2006 – ‘yes’; 17 Apr 2006 – ‘air’; 19 Jun 2006 – ‘force’; 5 Sep 2006 – ‘father’; 8 Sep 2006 – ‘lord’; 12 Sep 2006 – ‘light’; 20 Sep 2006 – ‘love’; 30 Sep 2006 – ‘hair’; 14 Feb 2007 – ‘trickle’; 15 Feb 2007 – ‘song’; 25 Feb 2007 – ‘gem’; 7 Apr 2007 – ‘pretty’; 12 Apr 2007 – ‘search’; 24 Apr 2007 – ‘crown’; 25 June 2007 – ‘attractive’; 3 July 2007 – ‘marriage’ ************************ Legolas stared out of the window, watching the rain trickle down the side of the house. He loved the smell of rain, but he was finding that it was fast being overtaken by the love that he felt for Lindir. Turning, he smiled as the minstrel practiced his song. Lindir looked particularly attractive that morning, wearing a light blue tunic that set off his pale hair to perfection. Feeling Legolas’ eyes upon him, the minstrel looked up and smiled. “A pity it is raining,” he remarked. “Aye,” Legolas concurred. “But no matter. For me it makes no difference, as long as I am with you.” “Such a pretty turn of speech, melethen,” Lindir said, then blushed when he realised what he had said. Legolas’ eyes widened. “Am I truly ‘your love’?” he asked hopefully. Lindir blushed even further. “Aye,” he said shyly. He turned away in embarrassment to the table next to him and began to rummage through the parchments there, as if in search of something. All too soon, though, he felt Legolas’ presence next to him. “Look at me, Lindir,” Legolas requested softly. When the minstrel turned a cautious gaze towards him, Legolas took his love’s face between his hands. “Melin chen, Lindir. You have become more priceless to me than any gem. Would you allow me to court you?” Lindir swallowed. “But what of your father?” he whispered. “You are the Crown Prince; he would expect you to marry an elleth and beget an heir.” “My father wants me to be happy. He has always known of my preference for ellyn, and has told me he would never force me into a marriage with an elleth if I did not desire it.” He rested his forehead against Lindir’s. “Gûren…cuilen,” he whispered. Lindir’s eyes misted with tears. “Yes, I will allow you to court me, Legolas.” “It seems romance is in the air.” The voice made the two elves start and they turned to the figure standing in the doorway. “Lord Elrond!” The elf-lord continued to look at the two elves, a broad smile on his face. “Amazing what a betrothal announcement can do,” he said a little mischievously. “Then you do not mind?” Legolas asked tentatively. “No, Legolas, I do not mind. If anything, I am pleased. There has been too little romance here of late, and I had rather hoped that relationship between Erestor and Glorfindel would spur others in declaring their feelings to the ones they love.” “I am glad that Erestor and Glorfindel are now betrothed,” Legolas said. “Yet Erestor did not seem too happy last night when you made the announcement,” the minstrel commented. “Erestor was being…Erestor,” Elrond remarked dryly. “But there are many here who share your sentiments, Legolas,” he continued, “myself included. Though…” “…Erestor being Erestor, it is not always that simple,” Lindir finished. “I know. Lothvaen has complained often enough about how difficult Erestor can be.” Elrond nodded before turning a speculative gaze at his minstrel. “Speaking of Lothvaen, has something happened between him and my son? I have tried speaking to Elrohir, but he says he does not wish to speak of it. Has Lothvaen said anything to you?” Lindir shifted uncomfortably. “Aye,” he admitted, “though I would prefer not to say anything, híren. I think this is something that Lothvaen and Elrohir should sort out without undue interference from others.” The minstrel’s face paled. “Díheno nin, híren! I did not mean…” The elf-lord raised his hand and stopped Lindir mid-flow, then sighed. Whether he liked it or not, the younger elf had a point. “I know what you mean, Lindir and you are right. We need to let them sort it out, though I fear there will be tears.” ************************ Elvish translations: cuilen – my life díheno nin – forgive me elleth – female elf ellyn – male elves gûren – my heart híren – my lord melethen – my love melin chen – I love you *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Title: Betrothal to an Elf Part 5 Author: Inwë Sáralondë Email: mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel Rating: PG Summary: Erestor is annoyed. Genre: Romance Word count: 646 Warnings: None Beta: Aglarien Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this. Authors Note: The prompts used were 11 Jun 2006 – ‘down‘; 30 Jun 2006 – ‘sympathy’; 2 Sep 2006 – ‘peace‘; 13 Sep 2006 – ‘quill’; 20 Sep 2006 – ‘beauty/beautiful’; 4 Oct 2006 – ‘massage’; 22 Oct 2006 – ‘under’; 19 Feb 2007 – ‘pay/payment’; 28 Feb 2007 – ‘nasty’; 13 Apr 2007 – ‘triskaidekaphobia’; 5 Mar 2007 – ‘calendar’; 9 June 2007 – ‘vicious’; 10 June 2007 – ‘vindictive’; 11 June 2007 – ‘muscle’; 26 June 2007 – ‘danger’ ************************ Erestor rubbed his eyes tiredly. He had developed a particularly nasty headache, and he wanted nothing more than to retire to his rooms and lie down. Instead, he tried to focus his attention on the parchment that lay on his desk. It was a request for payment from the merchant who had delivered his wares, as promised, but had also decided to add on extra to the cost, citing the increased prices he had had to pay in order to ‘provide wares of the excellent quality that the elves expect’, to quote the words used by said merchant. The advisor’s lips curled into a sneer. His headache had put him into a vindictive mood, and Erestor was tempted to pay the price that had originally been agreed upon. With a vicious swipe of his quill, he struck through the final cost. ‘Good relations be damned,’ he thought, but he was not going sit idly by and allow merchants to try and rob them. He looked up when the door opened and watched dispassionately as Glorfindel came in, rubbing his shoulder. “I think I pulled a muscle at training,” he groused. “Do you expect me to do something about that?” Erestor asked, not bothering to try and hide the sarcasm in his voice. “Well, a little sympathy would not go astray,” Glorfindel replied, trying, but failing, to look woebegone. Taking in the annoyed expression on his betrothed’s face, he sighed. “It seems, however, that I am in danger of losing my head. What has put you into such a vile mood?” “Scurrilous merchants who seek to rob us blind.” “Ah. I sympathise. It happens frequently when I purchase something at the human settlements that they try and ask for more than what the item is worth. They are all under the belief that we elves are rich.” Glorfindel settled himself down in the chair in front of Erestor’s desk, still rubbing his shoulder. Erestor sighed. “Let me finish this and pay the merchant. I am almost tempted to ask you to provide a few of your guard to escort him to the borders of Imladris.” “Why?” “As I only plan to pay the merchant the original amount that was agreed upon, and not this inflated price,” here Erestor stabbed at the parchment with his finger, “he deems we should pay.” Glorfindel smiled; he could never help but think that his betrothed looked even more beautiful when he was angry. “I think I could arrange for that to be done,” he said mildly. “However, let me suggest that I take the payment to him. I confess I fear for his safety if I let you approach him.” Erestor snorted in amusement. “Am I that predictable?” he queried. Glorfindel shook his head. “I am afraid so, melethen.” He glanced at the calendar on Erestor’s desk. “Hmm, Friday the 13th.” The advisor quirked an eyebrow and asked, “Is that supposed to signify something?” “I am but merely making an observation, dear Erestor…unless you suffer from triskaidekaphobia?” “From what?” “Triskaidekaphobia. A fear of the number 13. Or you could be suffering from paraskavedekatriaphobia. That is a fear of Friday the 13th.” Erestor resisted the urge to bang his head on his desk. “Where in all of Middle-earth do you learn all these things?” he asked wearily. “Oh, here and there,” Glorfindel said airily. “You know, I should take you with me sometimes; you would learn so much!” “I think I would prefer to stay here, thank you. Now, go and give this payment to the merchant and leave me in peace. The sooner I can finish my tasks, the sooner I can massage that shoulder of yours.” “Mmm…I shall look forward to that.” Then a seductive smile appeared on Glorfindel’s face. “In fact, I am sure there are other…parts that may require a massage.” Erestor’s response was to scrunch up some parchment at throw it at his lover, who merely laughed as he went out the door. ************************ Elvish translations: melethen – my love. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Title: Betrothal to an Elf Part 6 Author: Inwë Sáralondë Email: mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Elrohir/Lothvaen, Legolas/Lindir Rating: PG Summary: Elladan and Elrohir talk. Genre: Romance Word count: 392 Warnings: None Beta: Aglarien Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this. Authors Note: The prompts used were 30 Mar 2006 – ‘question’; 30 Apr 2006 – ‘always’; 3 Jun 2006 – ‘simple’; 17 Mar 2007 – ‘clover’; 19 Mar 2007 – ‘knoll’; 23 Mar 2007 – ‘field’; 31 Mar 2007 – ‘keep’; 11 Apr 2007 – ‘peer’; 9 May 2007 – ‘woods’; 10 May 2007 – ‘journal’; 26 May 2007 – ‘graduate/graduation’; 5 July 2007 – ‘envious’ ************************ “Is there are reason why you are trying to peer over my shoulder, Elladan?” “Just curious, that is all, tôren.” “Keep your curiosity to yourself, then.” Elrohir was sitting on a knoll at the edge of a field that was covered in clover. His journal was resting on his knee, the quill acting as a bookmark where he had hastily closed it from his brother’s prying eyes. “What has happened between you and Lothvaen?” “A difference of opinion,” Elrohir replied shortly. Elladan snorted. “Forgive me, tôren, but I think it is just more than a ‘difference in opinion’. Do you not care for him?” “Mayhap the question you should have asked is whether I love him.” The elder Peredhel twin stared at his brother in surprise. “Ah, so that is the way the wind blows,” he finally said. “Not for me – at least I think not.” “In other words, Lothvaen loves you, but you do not think you love him.” Elrohir nodded. “I suspect your sympathies lie with Lothvaen; this situation is remarkably similar to that between yourself and Orophin.” “My sympathies lie with neither of you. There may be similarities, but that is where they end. You have always been cautious with your heart, Elrohir. I am not going to judge you because of this.” “Thank you,” Elrohir said gratefully. “I *do* care for Lothvaen, and have never had the desire to hurt him. Yet I have. I want to say or do something, but at the same time I do not want him to misconstrue my actions.” Instead of replying, Elladan stared at the woods in the distance for a while, before turning back to his brother. “What do you think of Legolas courting Lindir?” he asked. Elrohir sighed. “I confess to feeling a little envious. Their relationship seems so straightforward, so uncomplicated. There is none of the drama that exists between Erestor and Glorfindel, or the one-sidedness that is between me and Lothvaen. Why can not everything be that simple?” “Because then it would be *too* simple, tôren.” Elladan laid an arm companionably on his brother’s shoulder. “If there were a school for love, then I think Legolas and Lindir would graduate with honours.” The younger Peredhel looked at his brother with a mixture of affection and exasperation. “You really do say the oddest things, tôren.” Elladan just grinned. ************************ Elvish translations: Peredhel – half elf tôren – my brother *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*