Title: Married to an Elf Part 10/25 Author: Inwë Sáralondë Email: mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Lindir/Legolas Rating: R Summary: Legolas threatens Lindir. Genre: Romance Word count: 620 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 1 Aug 2006 – ‘towel‘; 15 Aug 2006 – ‘note‘; 28 Sep 2006 – ‘tickle’; 13 July 2007 – ‘trick’ ************************ “Have you seen my leggings?” Lindir looked about him, perplexed. He was sure he had left the leggings lying on the bed, but now they had disappeared. “You draped them over the chair,” came the disembodied voice from the adjoining chamber. A short moment later, Legolas came into the room clad in a thin robe that left little to the imagination, a towel in his hand. The minstrel stopped to take in the sight. “A pity you can not stay the way you are,” Lindir said huskily. “Behave,” Legolas admonished, though there was a smile of pleasure on his face. “Can you imagine the scandal I would cause if I showed up at the ceremony wearing nothing but this robe?” “All the other elves would be envious that I am the lucky one who has managed to ensnare you,” Lindir replied, walking up to Legolas and spreading open the robe to run his hands appreciatively over the prince’s chest. Legolas took a shuddering breath. “Enough,” he managed to say, grasping the questing hands that had begun to move downwards. Lindir pouted. “But I see something of *great* interest to me,” he said, glancing down at Legolas’ erection that was becoming rather noticeable. Legolas shook his head in amusement before placing a swift kiss upon the pouting lips of his lover. “Seriously, Lindir, we must ready ourselves for the ceremony. There is very little time left.” “But…” “No ‘buts’, melethen. Now, I have told you where your leggings are; can you tell me where my circlet is?” “I might know where it is.” There was an impish grin on Lindir’s face, and Legolas’ eyes narrowed as he watched Lindir move away. “All right, what have you done with it?” he asked as he advanced upon the minstrel, flexing his fingers. Lindir caught the movement on Legolas’ hands and ran behind a chair. “You do not mean to tickle me, do you?” Lindir asked a little fearfully. There was a mischievous grin on Legolas’ face. “If it is required to get the information out of you, melethen, then I will.” “But you know it will leave me a quivering mess! I will not be able to play a note later tonight.” “Then you should have thought of that before you hid my circlet.” “I have not hidden your circlet! I only said I might know where it is. Please, Legolas…” Legolas stopped advancing upon Lindir and crossed his arms over his chest. “Then where is it?” he asked. “Where you last left it?” Lindir said hopefully. “Are you trying to trick me?” Legolas asked suspiciously. Lindir shook his head. “I know you had it out of its box last night, but I am sure you put it back in again.” “If it were in the box,” Legolas began patiently, “do you think I would be asking where it is?” “Oh. It is not there?” This time Legolas shook his head. “No, it is not.” He looked about him a little ruefully before adding, “And considering your penchant for strewing your things about, ‘tis no wonder I am not able to see it.” “Shall I help you look for it?” Lindir asked in a small voice. Moments later, the minstrel found himself in a tight embrace. “’Tis all right, merilinin dithen. I am not angry with you, just annoyed with myself for not having returned it to its rightful place,” Legolas soothed. “But I am messy. It could take us ages before we find it,” Lindir countered. “Then let us not waste any more time. We shall start with the table; it is where I took it out of its box. I am sure it is lying somewhere under those parchments.” ************************ Elvish translations: melethen – my love merilinin dithen – my little nightingale (I hope - please correct me if I’m wrong!) *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Title: Married to an Elf Part 11/25 Author: Inwë Sáralondë Email: mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Lothvaen/Haldir Rating: PG Summary: Lothvaen annoys Erestor. Genre: Romance Word count: 766 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 16 Sep 2007 – ‘early’; 25 Sep 2007 – ‘calm’ ************************ Erestor was feeling surprisingly calm, despite the fact that the ceremony was rapidly approaching. Glorfindel had retired to another room to ready himself, leaving the darkling elf to finish his own ablutions and wait for the twins to come and help him dress in his wedding robes. Providing, of course, the twins returned to the house in enough time. Elrond had already warned him that Elladan had gone in search of his brother and that neither as yet had returned. Sighing, the advisor reached for the parchment and read once more what he had written. It was still a little long and possibly rambling, but once Erestor had begun to write, he found he was literally pouring his heart and soul onto the parchment. Perhaps he would read only parts of it, but let Glorfindel read it all after the celebration. Yes, that seemed the most sensible course of action. Carefully laying the parchment back on the table, Erestor rose from his chair and walked to the window. It was already late afternoon, and he could not help but feel a little uneasy. He had no idea what had transpired to cause Elrohir to suddenly leave the house; he only hoped that Elladan had been able to find the younger twin and bring him back. In hindsight, this was not a good thing to be happening right at this point in time. Despite the obvious joy at the upcoming binding ceremony and celebration, there was still an edge of tension in the air. But it was early days yet; Erestor felt that it would still take some time before the situation with the twins resolved itself. At first, the knock on his door did not register. When the sound came again, Erestor snapped out his musings. “Enter,” he called, and was surprised to see Lothvaen entering his room. Taking in the woeful expression on the scribe’s face, he became immediately concerned. “What is it? Has something happened?” Erestor asked worriedly. For a moment, Lothvaen just stood there, and then blurted out, “Haldir says he cares for me.” Erestor was not sure what to make of this remark. “And?” he finally said. “And I said I liked him.” The advisor was a little perplexed. “I am afraid I do not understand what you are trying to tell me, pen-neth.” “He asked me if I cared for him, and I told him that I did, that I liked him, and…well…oh…I think I have made a mess of things, Erestor!” Erestor stood there, trying to make sense of what the younger elf was saying. “Is there something wrong with Haldir caring for you?” he asked, trying to find a beginning in what Lothvaen was trying to say.” “No…I do not think so.” Lothvaen frowned slightly. “Except that he said he would find it hard to leave me when he returned to Lothlórien.” “In other words, Haldir cares for you more than you care for him,” Erestor surmised. Lothvaen nodded weakly. “Do you think he means that he loves me?” he asked a little fearfully. Wondering why in all of Middle-earth Lothvaen was telling him this, Erestor rubbed his forehead. “I really can not answer that question, Lothvaen,” he said tiredly. “Mayhap you should be speaking to him, and not to me.” “He was upset when he left me,” Lothvaen volunteered. “I am not sure if he wants to speak to me right now.” ‘And I most definitely do not wish to speak of this,’ Erestor thought a little sourly. “Then all I can suggest, pen-neth,” he began, “is to leave Haldir alone for a little while before approaching him. And, when you do, I suggest you do so in private. I do not think the whole of Imladris needs to know what exactly is going on between the two of you.” Lothvaen took in what the darkling elf told him. “Very well, I shall do as you suggest,” he said, trying to sound decisive. “Can I ask you something else, while I am here?” Erestor counted to ten. “No, pen-neth. I think it is time you readied yourself for the ceremony. Whatever it is you wish to ask, I am sure it can wait for another time.” “Oh. So you would like me to leave?” The advisor gritted his teeth and counted to ten once more. “If you would not mind.” “All right.” Looking a little brighter than he was when he entered the room, Lothvaen quickly left, leaving the darkling elf to wonder why he had all of a sudden become an expert on matters of the heart. ************************ Elvish translations: pen-neth – young one *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Title: Married to an Elf Part 12/25 Author: Inwë Sáralondë Email: mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Elladan, Elrohir Rating: PG Summary: Elladan finds Elrohir. Genre: Romance Word count: 419 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 8 Nov 2006 – ‘horse‘ and ‘ride/rider’; 7 Aug 2007 – ‘welcome’; 28 Aug 2007 – ‘parched’ ************************ When Elrohir heard the horse approaching, he knew the rider would be Elladan. He grimaced slightly. He still felt a little annoyed at Elladan for having realised that they were more than just brothers and had not said anything. However, truth be told, even though he had overheard his grandmother’s words he had not been ready to take things further. He sighed. Elladan had confessed he had wondered what it would be like to make love to his mirror image, that he desired his younger twin. If Elrohir was going to be honest with himself, what Elladan had said had frightened him. The horse had stopped, and Elrohir’s keen hearing discerned the moment his brother had alighted from his horse. Moments later, Elladan stepped into the cave. “Do you have any water?” Elladan asked casually. “I am parched after my ride.” Elrohir reached for a water skin and wordlessly handed it to his brother. After taking a deep swallow, he gave it back to Elrohir. “What, no word of welcome?” The younger twin shook his head wearily. “What would you like me to say?” “How about something along the lines of: ‘Sorry I ran out on you and worrying everybody in the process’?” Elladan’s voice was faintly mocking. Elrohir sighed. “Can we not discuss this later, Elladan? Suffice to say, I needed some time to myself – something that you, especially, should understand. After all, did you not say just days ago that you ‘wanted the freedom to be able to be on your own’?” Elladan bowed his head slightly at the rebuke, his lips compressing into a thin line. Whether he liked it or not, Elrohir had a point. “We need to return to the house,” he said quietly. “Erestor has requested specifically that we help him get ready for the ceremony; we can not let him down.” “You are changing the subject again, Elladan.” “You *did* say you wanted to discuss this later, Elrohir.” “I was actually referring to what I had said after that,” the younger Peredhel responded. “I did not see the need to,” Elladan said. “Or must I always say ‘you are right’ to appease you?” “No, Elladan,” Elrohir said tiredly. “Come, as you say, we can not let Erestor down.” Stepping out of the cave, he quickly saddled his horse and mounted, gathering the reins in his hands. Elladan watched his brother silently before mounting his horse as well, and they both rode back to the house, each caught up in their own thoughts. ************************ Elvish translations: Peredhel – half elf *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*