Title: Hope Springs Eternal (Second in ‘The Renewal of the Seasons’ series, sequel to ‘The Four Seasons’) Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au) Type: FPS Pairing(s): Glorfindel/Erestor; Lindir/Elrohir; Elladan/Saelbeth; Legolas, Lothvaen Rating: PG Warnings: Only fluff in this one…the smut doesn’t happen until part two… Beta(s): Larien Elengasse and Nienna – thank you both for tightening things up a little and pointing out a few obvious glitches! All other mistakes are mine… Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this. Feedback: Yes please… Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; Galadhrim.net; Glorfindel of Imladris archive; OEAM; otherwise, please ask… Summary/Notes: About the name Lothvaen – in most fics he’s known as Melpomaen, but when Orchyd came up with ‘Lothvaen’, I much preferred this name. After getting in touch with her and asking if I could use it, she wrote back saying she had hoped it would slowly replace the name ‘Melpomaen’ in the fandom… Oh, and as for a summary – let’s see…Legolas finds himself being hunted; Lindir surprises Elrohir with his topic of conversation; Elladan begins to see Saelbeth in a slightly different light; while Erestor gains a furry companion… ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Part One The elf stood in the shadows, watching the Sindar prince as he perused a book. Legolas was sitting comfortably in one of the many chairs in the library, having chosen one near a window. Sunlight danced off the Sinda's hair, mesmerising the watcher. The prince gave his admirer no indication as to whether he was aware someone was watching him. Every so often, Legolas would turn the page, steadily reading before turning the page again. Finally the admiring elf could take no more, and he stepped out from his hiding place. “Maer aur, híren.” Legolas looked up at the elf and a smile broke out on his face. Since his failed attempt with Lindir he had been keeping a low profile, yet at the same time discreetly eyeing those elves in Imladris who appeared to be unattached. He was not going to make the same mistake again; at the time, he genuinely thought he had had a chance with the shy minstrel. However, he found he had erred considerably in his judgment. Now he was being approached by one of the elves he had been carefully watching. “Maer aur, Lothvaen,” he replied. “You know my name, híren? I am flattered.” Legolas stopped for a moment, a little nonplussed. Why in Middle-earth would this elf be flattered by him knowing his name? For him, it was part of the seduction to find out as much as he could of potential conquests. “Flattered?” he queried. “Flattered that you have taken the time to find out my name, híren…but then, you have been watching me for some time, have you not? And when you have not been watching me, *I* have been watching you.” “You have?” Legolas closed the book he was holding, his mind racing furiously. Had he been too obvious after all in his observations? “Indeed, Legolas…may I call you that? I have often heard you say you dislike formality…” Something was not right here. It was as if the advantage lay with the other elf. “Of course…” he managed to say. Lothvaen continued as if there were no interruption. “Do you desire me, Legolas?” The question robbed Legolas of his voice. Dumbfounded, he could only stare at the dark-haired elf in front him. Lothvaen was staring coolly back, head tilted to one side, a small smile playing on his lips, obviously waiting for the prince’s reply. “Legolas?” Blue eyes met blue eyes, one pair amused, the other pair widened in shock. “I…I…” Taking a deep breath, Legolas tried to rein in his thoughts. “Forgive me…you have taken me completely by surprise.” “So I see.” Lothvaen pulled up a chair, bringing it close to Legolas. Sitting down, he leaned towards the prince, only to have Legolas lean away from him, wariness now evident on the prince's features. “You have nothing to fear from me, Legolas. I have only expressed what I thought were mutual feelings between us. Or do you not wish to be seen with a humble scribe, one who merely assists Erestor in the library?” “No, of course not – though I do not think the word ‘humble’ could be used to describe you Lothvaen. If anything, you have been extremely forward!” said Legolas, some of his poise having returned to him. “I thought the direct approach would appeal to you,” Lothvaen replied. “After all, is that not the method you use?” Legolas stared at the other elf in disbelief. What Lothvaen said was true; he did prefer to be direct in his dealings with others with regards to what he wanted, but he had never anticipated being on the receiving end. What he did know, however, was that the experience was proving to be a little uncomfortable. “I do not wish to continue this discussion!” the prince retorted heatedly, getting up and throwing the book on the chair. He looked down at the dark-haired elf, and for a moment Lothvaen thought he saw actual fear in the prince’s eyes. “As you wish,” he murmured, watching as Legolas strode out of the library. When the door closed he took a deep breath before slowly releasing it. A small frown marred his forehead. He had wondered for a moment if he were able to pull this off; it was not in his nature to be so aggressive. In fact, if anyone had heard his words with Legolas just now, they would have wondered if he had taken leave of his senses. But after seeing what had happened between the prince and Lindir, and knowing how distraught Lindir had been, he had felt the prince deserved to be on the receiving end of ‘unwanted’ attention. Oh yes, Legolas was desirable – Lothvaen could not lie about that. That was what had made it all the more difficult for him. Despite the prince’s reputation, Lothvaen knew that if Legolas had asked him he would have readily agreed to warm the prince’s bed – and probably be damned for doing so. Getting up from the chair, he made his way to the door. Lothvaen hoped the Mirkwood Prince had learnt something from this…that not everyone enjoyed being hunted… ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It was not every day that the Chief Advisor of Imladris could be found kneeling on the floor, but on this particular day he was, surveying the tiny scrap of fur hiding underneath one of the bookcases. The wearer of the fur was staring at the huge figure kneeling in front of it, and it tried to crawl further under the bookcase only to find its way blocked by solid wall. Erestor carefully extended his hand, then jerked it away quickly when the frightened creature hissed loudly. It seemed almost comical that such a loud sound could emanate from a tiny creature. Erestor sighed. “Well, you certainly can not stay there…I wonder where you came from and, more importantly, how did you get in here?” The kitten stared back at him with its green eyes, wide with fright. “Hmm, it seems I may have to tempt you out from under there. I suspect you are hungry…let me see what I can find in the kitchen.” The advisor got up and made his way out of the room. The kitten watched his progress, hoping that whatever this strange creature was, it would now leave her alone… ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Erestor sat at his desk, busily doing the report for Elrond. Every so often he would glance up and watch the kitten as she devoured the food he had brought back for her which consisted of some cooked fish and a dish of warmed milk. He had placed the offering carefully on the floor near enough to the bookcase for her to feel she was not leaving her safe haven should she decide to eat. Then he had made his way to his desk and proceeded with his daily tasks, figuring the kitten’s hunger would gradually overcome her fear. Some minutes after leaving the food, he had been rewarded when the kitten carefully inched her way out, warily eyeing him. He had continued with his work, seemingly ignoring her, making no sudden moves that could startle her. Soon, both food and milk were gone, and she quickly retreated back underneath the bookcase. When Erestor was finished, he got up from his chair and quietly made his way to the bookcase, picking up the empty dishes. He made no attempt to talk to her, or to reach out to her again. The kitten watched as he left the room, her wariness softened by curiosity. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It soon became a part of Erestor’s routine to bring food and milk for the kitten. She seemed to trust him a little now, venturing further out into the room while he was there. Still, he made no attempts to touch her, though he would speak to her, allowing her to get used to his voice. One thing the advisor noted was that she had a way of getting in and out of the room – there was no evidence of her being there, for she had not soiled anything, and for that he was grateful. The last thing he wanted to end up doing was clean up after her. One morning the door opened and Elrond came into the room. The kitten, terrified, ran to the first possible safe haven she could think of – under Erestor’s desk, wriggling her way underneath his robe to sit, quivering, next to his left foot. “Erestor?” “Yes, Elrond?” “What was that that just ran underneath your desk?” “A kitten.” “A kitten? Where did it come from?” Erestor sighed. “I have no idea. I found her by chance, hiding underneath the bookcase when I bent down to pick up a piece of parchment I had dropped.” Elrond spied the dishes on the floor. “And you have been giving her food?” “She was obviously hungry, but I also did this to gain her trust.” “Well, she seems to trust you enough to go running under your desk. By the way, how do you know she is a ‘she’?” “Because she looks like a ‘she’.” Elrond looked at his advisor, a wry smile on his face. “Your irrefutable logic, mellonen?” Erestor merely smiled before handing Elrond the parchment. “The report you were wanting. But move quietly – she does not need to be startled any further.” Shaking his head in amusement, Elrond approached the desk and took the report. “Thank you.” Once more shaking his head, a smile gracing his features, the Lord of Imladris made his way out of the room – quietly. Erestor carefully lifted his robe, exposing the kitten to his gaze. “Well, pen-dithen, it is safe to come out. He has gone.” Carefully, he lowered his hand, watching the kitten as she sniffed it. ‘You probably can still smell the fish on there,’ he thought bemusedly. His thoughts were confirmed when a pink tongue began licking his fingertips. “I see that I need to go and wash my hands again.” He tried to move his hand, only to have the kitten hook her claws into it. Wincing slightly at their sharpness, he remained bent over, waiting until she had finished her ministrations before he was finally able to move. “Thank you,” he said dryly. “You have done a most excellent job – you have somehow even managed to almost remove an ink stain.” The kitten looked up at him, seemingly pleased. “Well, now that it seems you are a permanent guest here, and that we appear to be on speaking terms, maybe I should decide on a name for you.” He stared at her, noting the vibrancy of her green eyes, like emeralds. “Mîr. Yes, that would suit. What do you think?” The kitten gave her approval by starting to purr, rubbing herself on Erestor’s leg. Startled, Erestor watched her. Once more he lowered his hand, this time he touched her. She arched into his touch, and he was emboldened to gently grasp her, bringing her up to eye level. “Well, you have been very quick to trust me,” he said a little amusedly. Then he shook his head. “However, I wonder what Glorfindel is going to say to you.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Lying on the grass under the shady canopy of a tree, Elrohir and Lindir were in each other’s arms, content just holding each other. Stroking a wayward hair from his lover’s face, Elrohir leaned down and gently kissed Lindir’s forehead. “Elrohir?” “Hmm?” “Do you think Elladan and Saelbeth will get together?” Elrohir raised himself slightly to look down at the minstrel. “I really do not know. I am not sure how my brother feels about Saelbeth. Why do you ask?” “Nothing…I was just curious.” “Again.” “Again?” “You are always curious, my sweet minstrel. Now why would it be of interest to you as to whether Elladan and Saelbeth form a relationship?” Lindir blushed under Elrohir’s quizzical gaze. “Well…it just seems they are well- suited to each other.” “Well-suited? I hope you are not attempting to do any sort of match-making, melethen – my brother will not thank you for it.” “Of course not!” There was indignation in Lindir’s voice, but Elrohir wasn’t entirely convinced. “Lindir…” “Hmm?” “Are you being truthful with me?” There was a look of hurt in the minstrel’s eyes. “What makes you think I would lie to you?” he asked, a quaver in his voice. Immediately Elrohir felt contrite. “Forgive me, melethen. I know you would not lie.” He leaned down to kiss his lover gently on the lips. “I doubt very much if I could match-make even if I wanted to,” Lindir said as they drew apart. “True – one needs to be a little devious, and you are far too innocent to be that, my sweet minstrel.” “I wish I could help Legolas, though.” “What?!!” “Legolas needs someone, do you not think so?” Elrohir looked at Lindir in disbelief. “What in all of Mordor gave you *that* idea?” “To help him stop behaving the way he does.” “Excuse me? How, exactly?” Lindir looked at Elrohir with an earnest expression on his face. “He is very fair to look upon, and a prince, no wonder he has little difficulty in getting others into his bed. But they do not *care* for him, Elrohir. I truly believe he has some good qualities, but he needs to be loved for himself, not for what he is or what he looks like. What do you think?” Elrohir fell back onto the grass, his mind whirling. “A good question,” he managed to croak out. He was still trying to grasp the fact that, despite what had happened between Legolas and Lindir, his lover was concerned about the prince! “Elladan cared for him, you know.” Elrohir turned his head to look at his lover, a totally bemused expression on his face. “And how did you manage to deduce that, pen-vain?” “From what you told me, of course. Do you not see it?” “Ah,” said Elrohir, not quite seeing it at all. “Remember when you told me? How Elladan was faithful to Legolas during their relationship, but the prince was not? I think Legolas knew Elladan had feelings for him, yet did not know how to respond to them because he was afraid to.” “Afraid to?” “Afraid to open his heart to love. That is why he behaved the way he did then, and still does now. He may even believe he is not worthy of love. He uses his appearance and position to bed others, but is afraid to open himself to one who may truly care for him.” “In other words, he is afraid of getting hurt, so he inflicts the hurt on others instead, like my brother.” “Exactly.” Elrohir sighed. “There may be some truth in what you say, Lindir. However, Legolas’ love life, or lack thereof, is really of no interest to me right now. What does interest me,” he said, raising himself up again, “is the beautiful elf lying here next to me, and I am beginning to wonder what I should be doing to said elf.” “Kissing me would be a start.” “Would it indeed? And what do you suggest afterwards?” “I can show you if you like.” Elrohir looked at Lindir in surprise. Since the start of their relationship, Lindir allowed Elrohir to always take the lead. Now it seemed the minstrel wished to do so instead. “Then show me, melethen,” he whispered, anticipation colouring his voice. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Glorfindel wearily made his way to the room he shared with Erestor. Patrol that day had been marred by the presence of yrch near the borders of Imladris. The resulting skirmish had left a few of the guards with minor wounds and they were being treated by the healers. Fortunately, none of the wounds were poisoned, and for that Glorfindel was thankful. At that moment, the only thing on his mind was a hot bath and, hopefully, a relaxing massage from his mate. He closed his eyes momentarily, a smile playing on his lips. Many a time Erestor’s magical fingers had soothed away the aches and pains, leaving him refreshed for other activities that were far more beneficial for the both of them… Opening the door, he was greeted by the sight of Erestor on the floor, trailing a piece of string to the delight of a black kitten trying to capture the other end in its small paws. Two pairs of eyes, one brown, the other green, looked up at the figure standing in the doorway. The green eyes quickly disappeared as the kitten fled to hide behind the advisor, who was wrinkling his nose in distaste. “You have smelt better.” “Thank you, and hello to you too. Was I seeing things, or were you just now playing with a kitten?” “Oh, you recognised it, did you?” Glorfindel shook his head. “Are you suggesting I never notice things?” he asked, a smile on his face. More often than not he was usually on the losing end where bantering with Erestor was concerned, but it meant that life was never dull; it was one of the things he loved about the advisor. His mate’s next words, however, wiped the smile off his face. “What I *suggest* is you sending me some word as to whether you are fine; I noticed a number of your patrol being taken to the healers with wounds, and yet there was no sign of you. None of them could tell me where you were, let alone *how* you were – they just presumed you were unharmed!” “Did you think I was hurt?” Glorfindel asked quietly. “I did not know what to think,” Erestor spat out. “All I know was that you had not returned with them.” “If *you* had noticed, it was not the whole of my patrol. The remainder of the patrol, including myself, were ensuring the yrch were dead, ervainen vorn. That is my job – to help protect Imladris and her inhabitants, yourself included. If I had been hurt, I would have been with the wounded.” Erestor got up from the floor and made his way to Glorfindel, wrapping his arms around his mate, oblivious to the gore and blood covering the warrior. “Would you? You can be extremely foolish sometimes.” “Not that foolish, melethen,” Glorfindel said, as he wrapped his arms around Erestor. “The fact that I was not amongst the wounded should have been news enough for you. My main concern at the time was to ensure the wounded would safely return to Imladris, but that does not mean I do not think of you. I think of you all the time, though at times you are not always in the forefront of my thoughts, for I must keep my wits about me.” “I know.” Erestor sighed. “Forgive me; it seems I am the foolish one. I can not help but worry.” “No melethen, you are never foolish, and I know you worry. If our roles were reversed, I would be the one worrying about you.” Glorfindel gently kissed Erestor on the forehead. The advisor smiled a little ruefully. “Look what you have reduced me to…a worrisome mate, forever wanting to check to see whether you…” Erestor’s lips were stilled when Glorfindel placed a finger on them, halting any further words. “Enough, melethen. Know this – I would not have you any other way. Melin chen, Erestor – always.” Glorfindel looked at Erestor and smiled. “Now, care to tell me about the kitten?” he asked, determined to break the solemn mood of his mate. Meanwhile, the kitten in question had been staring at the creature she had adopted being held by the other creature who had stepped through the door. She wasn’t sure if she liked this other creature; for one, it gave off an awful smell. Secondly, it seemed to have upset her friend. Thirdly, it had interrupted the game she and her friend had been playing. “Her name is Mîr," Erestor replied. "I found her in my study, hiding underneath one of the bookcases; I gained her trust by giving her food and milk. At least now I have a companion for when you are not here.” “As long as she does not sleep in our bed! Mîr, you call her? I can see why; her eyes are like jewels.” “You do not mind then?” “Why should I mind? Firstly, I do not think she would agree to being parted from you now and, secondly, I can never deny you anyway. Right now though, I do not think she sees me in a favourable light.” Glorfindel chuckled, looking at the kitten glaring balefully at him. “Not surprising. The smell of you is enough to discourage one. You *definitely* need a bath!” “As do you, melethen. After all, you have been clinging to me for a good five minutes or more.” “I do not *cling*!” Erestor retorted, stepping away from Glorfindel before ruefully surveying his ruined robes. Glorfindel merely raised his eyebrows. Erestor glared at his mate. “*You* were holding me rather tightly,” he retorted, tilting his chin a little higher. “Ah, is that what it was…” Glorfindel smiled at Erestor’s indignation. “It does not change the fact though, melethen, that you need a bath…” “Indeed,” came the sarcastic reply. “Join me?” the blonde-haired warrior entreated. Erestor gave a show of exasperation. “*If* I must,” he sighed, at the same time undoing the fastenings on his robe. “I promise I will make it worth your while.” The look Glorfindel gave the advisor was nothing short of lecherous, and it made Erestor catch his breath. “You had better, pen-valthennen, after all the worry I went through…” Glorfindel’s response was to sweep Erestor off his feet and carry him to their private bathing chambers. The kitten watched them leave. She was confused by the strange antics of these creatures. Despite their pointed ears, they most definitely were not of her kind – she knew with certainty her kind would not indulge in such odd behaviour… ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Saelbeth watched in trepidation as the remaining members of the patrol returned. He had seen the wounded making their way to the healers, and felt some relief in not seeing Elladan amongst them. Yet, he would not feel entirely relieved until he saw that Elladan was safe and whole. He was rewarded when he saw Elladan ride in, covered in filth but seemingly unharmed. He quickly made his way to the twin with a smile on his face. “Elladan!” Elladan looked at the fair-haired elf approaching him. “Before you ask, I am fine,” he snapped peevishly. Saelbeth recoiled slightly at the tone in Elladan’s voice. “Yes, I can see you are,” he responded quietly. Getting down from his horse, Elladan once more looked at Saelbeth. “How would you know? Some of this blood could be mine!” “I know orch blood when I see it, mellonen.” Elladan cast his eyes downwards and sighed. For a brief moment there was silence before the dark-haired elf said softly: “Forgive me, Saelbeth. But you know how I feel about these foul creatures, and the party was a large one. A number of our patrol members were wounded.” “I know; I saw them as they arrived.” Saelbeth placed a hand on Elladan’s arm. “Will you let me take you back to your rooms and draw a bath for you?” Elladan looked at the other elf in surprise. “Why? I do not need an escort, and I can draw my own bath.” “True, but allow me to do this for you, as a friend.” There was a hopeful look in Saelbeth’s eyes that Elladan found hard to ignore. He nodded his acquiescence and gave his horse to one of the stable-hands hovering nearby before allowing himself to be led inside the house. Making their way to his rooms, Elladan barely registered what Saelbeth was saying to him, his mind focused elsewhere. He wanted nothing more than to have his bath, drink a few glasses of wine, and try and forget the day’s events. He wished Elrohir had been with him but, as he had predicted, now that his twin and Lindir had declared their love for each other, Elrohir was spending more time at Imladris, leaving Elladan to go out on the patrols without his brother at his side. He felt bereft without him; Elrohir proved to be his anchor, especially when situations became dire, as they did today. For every orch he had slain, it seemed another two had taken its place. It had been one of the largest parties of yrch they had seen near the borders for some quite some time, and it left him with a sense of foreboding. He was so lost in thought that he did not realise Saelbeth was calling his name. “Hmm?” Elladan looked at the frowning elf next to him, and realised they had reached the door to his rooms. “You have not listened to a word I have been saying, have you?” Saelbeth said. Elladan sighed. “No, I have not. My mind was elsewhere. Please, leave me, I can tend to myself. I am afraid I am not very good company at the moment.” “All the more reason *not* to leave you. I know you – you will only wallow in self- recrimination and pity. You still have not forgiven yourself for what happened to you mother…” “Do not say anything more!” Elladan hissed, glaring at the other elf. “You do not understand what I feel, Saelbeth; do not even try!” “But you know I speak the truth!” It was Saelbeth’s turn to glare at Elladan. For a moment the two elves stared at each other, before the dark-haired elf broke the stare and put his hand on the door handle. “Just leave me be,” he muttered, opening the door. “No.” Saelbeth’s reply was emphatic, and he shoved Elladan inside the room before following him, shutting the door swiftly. “Strip,” he ordered. “I am going to draw the water for your bath.” Saelbeth made his way to the adjoining bathing chamber, leaving a slightly confused Elladan behind him. Elladan shook his head and allowed himself to smile a little. Slowly he began to undo the myriad of fastenings on the armour he wore, allowing it to drop to the floor. Gradually he added clothing to the jumble, all the while listening as Saelbeth drew the water and opened the stoppers to whatever bottles of oils the elf had decided to add. There was the unmistakable smell of lavender with a hint of sandalwood in the air as he made his way into the bathing chamber; enough to help him relax, but it was not overpowering. Oblivious to the elf still in the room, he gratefully made his way into the water. Closing his eyes once he had settled, he allowed the subtle scents to waft over him. The faint popping noise of another bottle being opened jolted him out of his reverie. “What are you still doing here?” he asked, a trifle irritated. “You did not ask me to leave.” “Actually, I think I did ask you to leave, but you chose to ignore me.” Elladan gazed at Saelbeth, noting the rolled-up sleeves and the opened bottle in his hand. “I did, and I told you why I would not.” Elladan sank further into the bath, allowing the water to lap his chin. “I take it then you are staying?” “You may.” Saelbeth approached the bath, tipping some of the oil into his hand before putting the bottle aside. “Raise yourself out of the water a little, and push your hair aside,” he commanded, kneeling at the edge of the bath behind Elladan. The dark-haired elf did as he was asked, and his nose caught the scents of vanilla and ylang ylang. He felt Saelbeth’s cool hands on his shoulders before moaning slightly as supple fingers began massaging them, easing the day’s tension away. Elladan allowed his eyes to close once more, savouring the attention being given to him. He breathed deeply. The twin had always loved the scent of vanilla; there was something almost sensual about it. “How does that feel?” A voice broke through the haze. “Wonderful,” he mumbled. “Do not stop, please.” Elladan felt how the fingers made their way to his neck and he leaned back, letting the fingers travel up to his temples and forehead, stroking away the lines of fatigue. “You are very good at this, Saelbeth,” he said, opening his eyes and turning slightly to look at the elf behind him. “I enjoy doing it,” was Saelbeth’s simple response. “If you like, I can massage you further once you are out of the bath.” Elladan paused for a moment. Since giving the blonde-haired elf the opportunity to prove his love for him, Elladan had been a little surprised at the complete turnaround. Instead of being the forward elf that first arrived at Imladris – indeed, even different to what he was in Mirkwood – Saelbeth had become almost reticent in his dealings with him. Oh yes, there were little tokens – a flower beside his plate when he sat down at the table, a ribbon for his hair or a book of poetry on his bed, but nothing more. Until now. Saelbeth had not acquiesced when Elladan had asked him to leave, instead he took charge. This was also the first time that Saelbeth had seen him without clothing, had even touched his naked skin. Did he want it to go further, with the possibility of something more intimate resulting? He wasn’t sure, but at the same time he realised he craved the company of another, a companion, someone he could be with that was not his brother. Elladan shook his head slightly. If Elrohir only knew how jealous he was of him, jealous that Elrohir had found love with Lindir, while he was alone. Or was he? He looked at Saelbeth once more, noticing the slightly worried look on the other’s face. Could he find love with Saelbeth? He had not lied when he said he cared for the Mirkwood elf, but he was still unsure as to whether he loved Saelbeth, or was merely attracted to him. “Elladan? Is something wrong?” Shaking his head, Elladan smiled. He made up his mind then and there. “Pass me the towel, please; I shall take you up on your offer.” He did not miss the brilliant smile that appeared on the other elf’s face and his eyes widened slightly. He was, for a moment, taken away by it. Elladan had not seen Saelbeth smile like that before and the affect on him was astonishing. In that moment, Saelbeth looked truly beautiful to him… ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Elvish translations: ervainen vorn – my dark beautiful one híren – my lord maer aur – good morning melethen – my love melin chen – I love you mellonen – my friend mîr – jewel orch – orc pen-dithen – little one pen-valthennen – my golden one pen-vain – beautiful one yrch – orcs ~~ TBC ~~ Title: Hope Springs Eternal (Second in ‘The Renewal of the Seasons’ series, sequel to ‘The Four Seasons’) Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au) Type: FPS Pairing(s): Glorfindel/Erestor; Lindir/Elrohir; Elladan/Saelbeth; Legolas, Lothvaen Rating: NC17 Warnings: Fluff and smut in this one… Beta(s): Larien Elengasse and Nienna – thank you both for tightening things up a little and pointing out a few obvious glitches! All other mistakes are mine… Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this. Feedback: Yes please… Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; Galadhrim.net; Glorfindel of Imladris archive; OEAM; otherwise, please ask… Summary/Notes: Legolas is left with something to think about; Lindir continues to surprise Elrohir; Saelbeth tries to help Elladan; while Glorfindel finds himself unnerved… ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Part Two Lothvaen was working steadily, totally engrossed in what he was doing. Therefore he did not hear the door opening and closing, or the footsteps that made their way to his desk. Suddenly a shadow loomed over the parchment he was working on and he started, an ink blot marring the precise work he had been doing. “Legolas!” “Forgive me, I did not mean to startle you.” Lothvaen was flustered. After his encounter with Legolas, he noticed how the prince had been studiously avoiding him. Now Legolas stood before him, a serious expression on his face. “May I speak with you?” he asked the still startled scribe. “Of…of course,” Lothvaen stuttered, wondering what it was the prince wanted to talk about; though, with a sinking heart, felt he already knew. “It is about our conversation the other day.” ‘Oh Valar.’ Lothvaen’s mouth suddenly went dry, and he wished he had some water. “Let us go outside Lothvaen – it is too nice a day to spend indoors,” the prince suggested. The scribe gave a small sigh and, slowly getting up from the chair, made his way to the front of the desk to face Legolas. Sighing again, Lothvaen looked down at the ruined parchment. He would have preferred to stay and finish his work, but the resolute expression on Legolas’ face indicated to him that the prince would not take no for an answer. “Very well,” he muttered. Following Legolas outside, he noticed belatedly that it was a lovely day; being a scribe meant that he was indoors most of the time and would rarely have the opportunity to venture outside. They made their way to a sheltered part of the garden where Legolas sat down on a stone bench, and motioned for Lothvaen to join him. The scribe sat down, carefully leaving some space between himself and the prince. “I had time to think about our conversation in the last few days,” Legolas began without preamble. “It was…interesting, to say the least, and I began to wonder if it had been deliberate.” Lothvaen swallowed. What in Middle-earth could he possibly say? Clearing his throat, he managed to bring out: “Deliberate?” “Yes, deliberate...as if you were trying to give me a dose of my own medicine, to make me feel as if I were the one being pursued, rather than being the pursuer.” Legolas kept his eyes on Lothvaen, noting how the scribe’s face was now tinged with pink. “I have been watching you a little more closely these last few days, Lothvaen. I have watched how you behave. I have listened to you talk. You are not what you led me to believe, are you, Lothvaen?” The dark-haired elf could only stare at Legolas, his mind in turmoil, unable to make a sound. “I wish to thank you.” Those five words made Lothvaen regain his voice. “What?” “I said I wish to thank you.” “Thank me?” Lothvaen’s words were flat, disbelieving. “I do not understand…” “You made me open my eyes and realise that it is not a comfortable feeling to be on the receiving end of that sort of behavior. I had no idea exactly how uncomfortable it made others feel. You did this because of Lindir, did you not?” His mind reeling from Legolas’ confession, Lothvaen could only nod his head. “You must care for him very much.” “He is my friend,” Lothvaen responded stiffly, finally finding his voice once more. “You hurt him by your actions.” “He told you then.” “No. I saw you both, I saw what happened. Lindir does not know that I did; he would be mortified if he knew.” “But he has told Elrohir,” Legolas remarked, making the scribe look at him questioningly. “Elrohir has been *very* polite in his dealings with me, and I have not missed the warning in his eyes…” He smiled ruefully before looking at Lothvaen. “Do you think me foolish?” Once more, Legolas managed to surprise the dark-haired elf. Lothvaen sighed, wondering how he should best answer the question. “I think you may be used to getting your own way,” he started cautiously, carefully watching the prince to gauge his reaction. Legolas merely nodded, indicating for the other elf to continue. “I also think you try and use your position to gain unfair advantage. You are a prince, and you are expected to behave like one.” “Familiar words,” Legolas muttered under his breath. Lothvaen appeared not to have heard them as he continued. “You should not be using your position to lure others to your bed for sexual gratification.” Legolas’ eyebrows shot up at the scribe's words. He remained silent, waiting for Lothvaen to say something further, but he remained quiet. Legolas' eyes widened slightly at the realisation of what Lothvaen had said. The prince broke the silence. “Thank you for your honesty, Lothvaen. It may be that it was time someone spoke to me thusly.” He looked at Lothvaen, his eyes solemn. “May I ask you a question?” The scribe nodded. “If I had asked you, would you have gone to bed with me?” Lothvaen blushed and nodded. “Despite your words? Why?” the prince asked. “Because I think I can give you what you desire,” Lothvaen answered “What I desire?” Lothvaen nodded once more before rising up from the bench. “Yes.” “And what is it that I you think I desire, Lothvaen? What is it you think you can give me?” “Love.” With that, the scribe hurried away from the clearing, leaving a more than stunned prince in his wake. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Elrohir moaned, his hands tangled in his lover’s tresses. The minstrel was doing delicious, wicked things with his tongue and his mouth that Elrohir had not known his lover could do. Another moan escaped him as Lindir sucked on his hard shaft, bringing him closer to the brink. Lindir had taken him deep into his throat, something Elrohir had not thought possible, and he felt the familiar feeling building up in his groin, indicating his impeding release. Weakly, he tried to pull his lover away, not wanting to choke him, but Lindir had other ideas, increasing his ministrations until, with a cry, he spilled his seed down the willing throat, vaguely feeling how his lover swallowed everything that he had been given as he floated in a haze of post-orgasmic bliss. He came back down to Lindir gently peppering his stomach with kisses as he slowly made his way up Elrohir’s body to claim his lips, opening his mouth so that the dark-haired elf could taste himself in his lover’s mouth. “Where…where did you learn…to do that?” Elrohir gasped, trying to catch his breath. Lindir smirked. “From you, of course. Do not think I had not been paying attention to what you have done to me.” “By the Valar, then you have learned very well, melethen.” “I take it you enjoyed it then?” “Enjoyed it?” Elrohir shook his head in disbelief. “Of all the ridiculous ques…” He gasped as a hot mouth enveloped his nipple, and moaned as it was suckled and gently nipped to a peak. ‘Sweet Elbereth,’ he thought, as he felt Lindir trail kisses to his other nipple, ‘if I were to die right now, then I would do so a very happy elf indeed.’ “I want to take you.” The statement startled Elrohir out of his reverie. Green eyes looked into his a little worriedly. “Will you let me?” “I have nothing with me,” Elrohir replied hoarsely. In reply, Lindir reached back to where his tunic had been carelessly thrown, and withdrew a small bottle from the pocket while the dark-haired elf watched in astonishment. “You have been planning this?” Elrohir asked wonderingly. Lindir blushed. “Well…yes, and no. I have wanted to do this for a long time, and have carried the oil with me, but I have never found the courage…” He bit his lip uncertainly. “If you do not wish to do this…” He faltered. “Want this? I have been waiting for this moment, melethen. Did I not say you were my equal, that I would have you take me as I you? Take me, my sweet minstrel…” Elrohir’s passion-filled eyes pleaded with his lover, his shaft hard once more, leaking clear fluid from its tip. With trembling fingers, Lindir opened the bottle, pouring some of the viscous fluid onto his fingers, nearly dropping it in his fumbling haste to put it aside. Without taking his eyes of Elrohir, he knelt between the legs of the other elf, hesitating slightly before he inserted one finger inside the puckered opening. “I am not hurting you, am I?” he whispered. Elrohir held back the desire to laugh. “No,” he responded, almost gravely. “I promise I will let you know if you do.” He felt as Lindir, emboldened, inserted another finger, and then jumped slightly as they brushed over his sweet spot. “Elrohir?” “Do not stop melethen – you should realise what it is you have touched…” Realisation dawned on Lindir’s face. “Oh…of course,” he breathed, brushing over it again, smiling at his lover’s reaction. Soon he added another finger, scissoring and stretching, remembering how Elrohir prepared him in the past. “Do you plan to take me or torture me?” Elrohir ground out. The more Lindir moved his fingers inside him, the closer he was to exploding. In response, the minstrel removed his fingers and coated his erection with the oil before positioning himself. “Ready?” “Lindir…enough words! Please – do not make me beg!” Elrohir drew up his legs against his chest to allow the minstrel greater access. Carefully, Lindir breached the opening, slowly sinking into his more than receptive lover. When he was fully sheathed, he stilled, eyes wide at the sensation of being inside another. It was so different. Never in his wildest dreams had imagined it to be like this. He began to move his hips, gently thrusting, changing the angle slightly in the hopes of finding that sweet spot, and was rewarded when Elrohir moaned. “Harder, melethen…harder!” Lindir thrust harder, and soon forgot about finesse as he pounded into Elrohir. He grasped his lover’s neglected shaft and began stroking it, feeling it grow harder still as Elrohir neared his climax. Warm cream shot out soon after, coating his hand, and he felt the muscles clenching around his own achingly hard member. With a sob, he thrust once more before releasing his seed inside the hot channel. Gradually, he stopped, his heart pounding and gasping for breath, looking down in wonder at the dark-haired elf beneath him, not quite believing it had actually happened. Elrohir looked back at him, a dreamy smile on his face. “That was incredible,” he said quietly, reaching up to touch Lindir’s face. Lindir smiled. “I wanted to know what it was like to give you the same pleasure as you have given me…to have you at my mercy…” Lindir’s voice trailed off at the look of love Elrohir was giving him. “Oh melethen,” Elrohir whispered. “I have been at your mercy since the very beginning…” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Elladan woke with a start. He blinked and yawned, noting somewhat vaguely that he was lying on his bed, naked, except for a sheet covering him. Moving, Elladan felt how his muscles were not as stiff as they were before. Then he remembered. Saelbeth had been massaging him, and he must have fallen asleep. ‘Valar – I must have been more tired than I thought.’ He looked around the room, but the other elf was not there. ‘He must have left once I fell asleep,’ Elladan mused. He started to sit up when the door opened, and he watched as Saelbeth entered the room carrying a tray. “Ah, you are awake. How do you feel?” the blonde-haired elf asked as he placed the tray on the table. “Better, thank you. I am sorry I fell asleep.” “It does not matter. You had a long and tiring day; it was understandable.” Saelbeth motioned to the tray. “I brought some food for you; I thought you may be hungry.” “Why? I can wait until dinner.” “Dinner has passed, mellonen.” “For Valar’s sake! Why did you not wake me?!” Elladan demanded. “You needed your rest, Elladan. Your father was very understanding when I told him, and he suggested I had done the right thing in letting you sleep. He is worried about you.” “My father has nothing to worry about,” the dark-haired elf muttered. Saelbeth approached the bed and sat down, ignoring the look of annoyance being directed at him. “He worries because he is your father, Elladan. He loves you, and he fears that soon you will leave – whether with your brother or not – to search and hunt down yrch. Your father does not wish for you to do that.” “Has he told you this?” “Not in so many words, but I can see it in his eyes.” “Then you seem to have acquired a greater understanding of my father than most elves, mellonen, and have done it in a relatively short amount of time.” A touch of sarcasm laced Elladan’s voice. “However, my father knows why Elrohir and I go. Yrch activity is on the increase; it behooves us to do what is necessary to rid Middle-earth of as many of these creatures as possible. Sometimes that means leaving Imladris for months on end to do just that.” Saelbeth looked down at his hands entwined on his lap. “That may be so, but he also knows you do it because of what happened to your mother…” “Leave her out of this!” “You blame yourself for what happened. You blame yourself for not being there to protect her. But how could you know? It was fate, Elladan. Your father knows this. Even if you had been there…” “Stop it! Just stop it!” Elladan shouted, but Saelbeth continued. “…there would have been no guarantee that the end result would have been different. You would probably have been killed along with the others, and your mother would have still suffered. Do you not see that?” Elladan tossed the sheet aside and stood up, not caring that he was naked. Striding to the cupboard, he opened it, pulling out a tunic and leggings at random. He could feel Saelbeth’s eyes on him, but did not turn around, not wanting the other elf to see that his words had hit home. Once dressed, he kept his eyes averted as he made his way to leave the room. “Elladan.” Saelbeth’s voice was quiet, and it stopped the dark-haired elf momentarily. “I love you, Elladan, and I am afraid to lose you. Each time I watch you go out on patrol, I wonder if you will return unharmed. I know you say you care for me, Elladan, and I do not ask you to stay for my sake, but for your father’s. He fears, as I do, that you will be too reckless. His heart is a little lighter knowing that Elrohir does not now go out as often because of Lindir; he only wishes for you to do the same and, most of all, not to blame yourself.” Elladan heard as Saelbeth got up and walked towards him. His eyes had filled with tears, and he closed his eyes to try and stop them from falling. They flew open, however, when a soft hand caressed his cheek, and Elladan looked into Saelbeth’s face. When Saelbeth moved closer and took Elladan into his arms, the twin could hold back no longer. Burying his face into the other’s shoulder, he cried. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Erestor?” “Hmm??” “That kitten of yours is staring at me.” “And?” “Her ears are laid back and her tail is moving from side to side. She does not appear to be happy, melethen.” “She probably thinks you are hurting me. But do not worry, pen-valthennen – the worst she can do is bite or scratch you.” Glorfindel looked down at his mate, a slightly sour look on his face. “How reassuring,” he muttered. He looked back at the kitten. “Can you not put her in another room? She is unnerving me.” Erestor raised an eyebrow, a smirk on his face. “You, the great Balrog Slayer, unnerved by a mere kitten? I can just imagine the reactions of others if they should ever find out. And to answer your question, no, I will not put her in another room. I have only just managed to gain her trust; I do not wish to damage that.” “Forgive me, ervainen vorn…I just need to get used to the idea that she is here.” “Do not worry – she will realise soon enough you are not hurting me.” Glorfindel looked once more at the kitten, noting her stance hadn’t changed, and sighed. “I hope so, melethen.” The warrior then turned back to Erestor, and stared into the brown eyes. He felt desire beginning to course through his veins again at what he saw there. “Enough of this conversation, ervainen vorn, let us concentrate on something a little more…pleasurable, shall we say?” A hand reached down to grasp the advisor’s already hard shaft which, from Erestor’s point of view, only added emphasis to the word ‘pleasurable’. “I want to feel you inside of me,” Erestor whispered. “No,” he continued, placing a finger on Glorfindel’s lips, knowing what his mate was about to say. “No. I want you to take me. I crave it, desire it. You have no idea how much I love feeling you inside me.” The golden-haired warrior groaned at Erestor’s words, then leaned down to give his mate a searing kiss before reaching for the oil and slickening his aching arousal. Little other preparation was needed, for Erestor was still stretched enough from their last bout of love-making. Glorfindel pushed in slowly, sighing as the delicious heat enveloped him. He felt as Erestor wrapped his legs around his waist, pushing him in even further. “Move, pen-valthennen; let me feel you.” Glorfindel needed no further invitation as he began to thrust inside his mate, luxuriating in the feel of being inside him. He took Erestor’s member into his hand once more, and listened to the moans and sighs as his shaft unerringly brushed over Erestor’s sweet spot. Feeling his groin tightening at his impending climax, he thrust harder, stroking his mate’s length, wanting to watch Erestor as he came. “Yes…oh, yes…now…Valar…yes…Glorfindel!” The golden-haired warrior looked down at the beautiful elf beneath him. Erestor’s eyes were closed, his stomach covered with his essence. He had seen Erestor like that before but, to Glorfindel, the sight seemed more beautiful, more arousing each time. Glorfindel shuddered as his climax tore through him, and he slumped, sated, over his mate. “Oh my sweet, beautiful Erestor,” he whispered. “Melin chen, pen-valthennen…cuilen…” “As you are mine, ervainen vorn…always…” Carefully pulling himself out, Glorfindel lay to one side of Erestor and gathered him into his arms. One thing he noticed though, before he lay down, was that the kitten had curled up on the rug, and was fast asleep… ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The elves were gathered in the courtyard, watching as Legolas and his party readied themselves to leave. Only Saelbeth was staying behind, and he felt a little sad as he watched them. He would miss his friends, but it would be worth it in the end if he and Elladan could establish some sort of relationship. Ever since that day when the dark-haired elf had cried in his arms, there had been a subtle shift. Elladan no longer talked of leaving Imladris in his hunt for yrch, nor did he make himself available for every single patrol. He and Saelbeth spent more time together, much in the same manner as they had in Mirkwood, but there was an underlying current of something else that neither could define. Elrond looked at his eldest son and felt relieved. He was daring to hope that maybe, just maybe, Saelbeth had been able to get through to Elladan in a way that he couldn’t. He knew of Saelbeth’s feelings, and knew Elladan felt something for the Mirkwood Elf in return; which was why he had gambled a little in telling Saelbeth some of his worries for his son. Now that gamble seemed to have paid off. He turned his attention back to the Mirkwood party as Legolas approached him. “I thank you for your hospitality, my lord,” the prince said. “It was a pleasure to have you here, Legolas Thranduilion. I wish you a safe and speedy journey back to your home,” Elrond responded. ‘And something has changed about you, pen-neth…you are not the same elf as you were when you arrived,’ he added to himself. His curiosity was piqued when he saw the look Legolas gave to Lothvaen. It seemed thoughtful, almost sad. ‘Aye, I wonder what happened between those two?’ Lothvaen stood almost in the shadow of the doorway, watching. Since their discussion a few days ago, nary a word had been said between the two of them except for the polite formalities. The scribe wondered if he had made a mistake in saying what he had to the prince, but the words could not be retracted now. He sighed; the simple fact of the matter was that he had fallen in love with Legolas. Lothvaen laughed at himself. ‘What stupid folly,’ he thought. ‘I set about to try and have Legolas experience what he does to others, and find myself falling in love with him in the process. He was right when he said I was not as I appeared, but a fool I certainly am.’ He turned and made his way into the house, not caring if he were breaking protocol, only feeling the need to get away. In doing so, he never saw the prince starting to make his way towards him… Elrohir and Lindir watched as Lothvaen disappeared just as Legolas was obviously about to talk to him. “What does he think he is doing?” Elrohir whispered to the minstrel. “Who?” “Lothvaen! He can not turn and leave like that!” “It seems though he has,” Lindir replied, watching as Legolas stopped with a slightly puzzled look on his face. “Something has happened between the two of them.” “If Legolas has hurt Lothvaen in any way…” “I do not think Legolas has done anything, Elrohir.” “You seem certain of that, meleth.” “Do not ask me how I know, I just do. Lothvaen is my friend; leave it to me, and I shall endeavour to find out what is amiss.” Elrohir nodded, and watched as Legolas approached, standing before them a little uncertainly. “Lindir…I never really apologised for my actions. They were uncalled for and you had every right to be angry with me. I hope that, in time, you may forgive me.” “I forgave you a long time ago, Legolas,” Lindir replied, ignoring the tightening grip on his arm that came from his lover. Legolas looked at Lindir. “Thank you,” he said quietly. He then turned his attention to Elrohir. From the look in the twin’s eyes, he knew forgiveness would not be so easily forthcoming. “A safe and speedy journey, Legolas,” Elrohir said stiffly. The two elves looked at each other, each knowing where they stood. Then Legolas turned and made his way to Erestor and Glorfindel, before finally going back to his party. Mounting his horse, he inclined his head briefly towards Elrond, and then led them out of the courtyard. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Erestor and Glorfindel’s attentions were upon the small black kitten, ensconced in the crook of Glorfindel’s arm, who was happily kneading the material under her paws, her sharp little claws pulling out a thread as she purred in contentment. Neither of them had been privy to Lothvaen’s sudden disappearance, nor when Legolas was speaking with Lindir and Elrohir. Glorfindel shook his head in amusement; after her initial reaction to him, he had found himself that morning trying to disengage himself from the tiny creature as he had attempted to dress. He had conceded failure, however, when he had attempted to leave the room, only to have her claws sink into his calf. Howling in pain, he had glared down at her, then winced as she had tried to climb up his leg. “I think I get the message,” he had ground out, carefully removing said kitten and claws from his leg. She had only replied with a ‘meow’ before settling herself into the crook of his arm as Glorfindel made his way down to the dining hall. Erestor had looked in disbelief as his mate came in carrying the kitten, the smirked at the look Glorfindel had given him. Mîr had allowed herself to be put down once there, but had insisted on being picked up and carried as soon as Glorfindel had finished breaking his fast. She had remained there ever since. “You seem to have found a friend.” “Indeed,” Glorfindel had said, raising his head to look at the prince. He had noticed in the past few days that Legolas had not been his usual self, but prudence had stopped him from approaching the younger elf. He knew that Legolas, when he needed to speak to someone, would do so when he was ready to. Yet his heart went out to the prince; something was definitely bothering him and, for a moment, was tempted to ask what it was, till he saw the look in Legolas’ eyes. ‘Do not ask,’ they seemed to have said, and Glorfindel had kept quiet. “A safe journey, pen-neth,” Erestor had said, breaking the silence that had followed Legolas’ earlier remark. “Thank you. It was a pleasure and a joy to have been at your bonding ceremony; I can see you are both very happy.” “As you will be, one day,” said Erestor, gently squeezing Legolas’ arm. The prince had given a weak smile before turning away. Glorfindel and Erestor watched silently Legolas had left with the other Mirkwood elves, and then followed Elrond as the elf-lord went back inside the house. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Though Imladris had long been left behind, Legolas’ thoughts were still very much there with a certain scribe. The prince had hoped to finally speak to Lothvaen when he left, but had watched with dismay when the elf left the courtyard before he had the chance to. His mind went back to their conversation in the clearing, and the last words that had been said. ‘And what is it that I you think I desire, Lothvaen? What is it you think you can give me?’ ‘Love.’ Lovelovelovelovelove… The word was beginning to haunt him… ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Elvish translations: cuilen – my life ervainen vorn – my dark beautiful one híren – my lord maer aur – good morning melethen – my love melin chen – I love you mellonen – my friend mîr – jewel orch – orc pen-dithen – little one pen-neth – young one pen-valthennen – my golden one pen-vain – beautiful one yrch – orcs ~~ FINIS ~~