Title: Greenleaf & Imladris 18 - Calenlass: Heart of a Prince
Author: Eressë (eresse21@yahoo.com)
Type: FPS
Pairing: Elrohir/Legolas
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: All the Elves belong to the most esteemed Prof. JRR
Tolkien.
Summary: A steadfast warrior decides he's had his fill of waiting and
sets out to capture his beloved prince's reluctant heart.
Author's Note: First story in the series set in the Fourth Age. 
According to tradition, the Dúnedain passed on when their heirs
reached ninety years of age.  If Aragorn's son, Eldarion, was ninety
at the time of his father's death, obviously he wasn't born until
nearly thirty years after his parents' wedding.  But the date of his
birth is not stated in the books and so I've taken the liberty of
having it occur much earlier.

Calenlass: Heart of a Prince

Prologue: Unspoken
Gondor, Gwaeron FA 1
The Queen of Gondor gently lifted her firstborn son from his cradle. 
Smiling with maternal pride and joy, Arwen Undómiel turned to the four
Elves who watched her with indulgent smiles.
	
The older of her twin brothers peered at the face of his newborn
nephew.  Elladan shared a chuckle with his wife, Nimeithel.  "He looks
like you, Arwen.  What say you, Legolas?"
	
The youngest prince of Northern Eryn Lasgalen, the great forest once
known as Mirkwood, stepped forward and gazed at the babe.  The child
was raven-haired like his parents and very fair.  Legolas thought he
did have a strong resemblance to Arwen. 

"Aye, he is more like an Elf than a human child."
	
"That must irk Estel that his heir looks so little like him," Elrohir
remarked much to his siblings' amusement.   
	
He bent to get a closer look.  At that moment, the babe focused his
gaze on him.  The infant's eyes widened at the sight of the
raven-haired lord.  With a gurgle, he insistently reached out to his
uncle.
	
Taken aback, Elrohir glanced at Arwen with raised eyebrows.  With a
soft laugh, she handed her babe to her brother.  He cradled the child
in his arms. 

"Well met, Eldarion," the Elf murmured. 

As if in response, the infant prince grasped at the raven hair that
spilled over the Elf's shoulders.  He then broke into a wide toothless
smile.

Arwen's eyes widened.  "Why, that is the first time he has ever
smiled," she observed.  "He has obviously taken to you, Uncle
Elrohir." 

"I am glad," Elrohir grinned.

"Like father, like son," Elladan chuckled.  "You may very well have
him following you about some day, gwanneth"-older twin-"just as Estel
did," he added.

"I will not mind," Elrohir smiled.  He stroked the curved ridge of a
tiny ear with his finger and laughed when Eldarion cooed with
pleasure.

"You will if he comes to think of you as his pet and insists on
knowing your every thought and move," Elladan warned with a smirk. 
"Or even worse, dictates what you can or cannot do."

"You have a gift with children," Legolas said.  "They always respond
to you in just that way."

"'Tis a response worth having even if it is but from a babe," said
Elrohir softly.

Legolas glanced up at him.  There had been something in his friend's
tone that he could not quite place. 

Elladan reached out and clasped a hand on his twin's shoulder. 
Legolas noted that the older twin seemed to squeeze his brother's
shoulder comfortingly and wondered why.

"'Tis a pity your adar could not be here to see him, gwanur"-
kinswoman-Nimeithel said to Arwen.  "He would have been very proud to
call him grandson."

Arwen smiled a little sadly.  "I had hoped he would stay on a little
longer," she admitted to her law-sister,  "to at least see this first
grandchild." 

Elrohir shook his head.  "It would have been yet another loss to bear,
muinthel"-sister-he said.  "I think Ada"-Papa-"did not wish to know
and love his grandchild only to be parted from him at the last." 

Arwen sighed a little mournfully in agreement. 

Nimeithel sought to dispel the pensive mood she had inadvertently
introduced.  "I would remind you of your promise to come to Imladris
this Ivanneth, Arwen," she said.  "It will be the twins' first
begetting day celebration since your father's departure."   

The Queen brightened.  "Most assuredly, Estel and I will be there.  We
would not miss it even should all the orcs of Middle-earth stand in
our path!  And we shall bring Eldarion with us.  I cannot bear to be
parted from him overlong.  Do you know he already has several offers
of marriage?" she suddenly giggled.  "And him but a babe!"

Legolas shared a chuckle with Elladan.  "I wonder how Estel will
choose for him one day," the older twin said.  "It will be no small
feat I imagine."

"We have agreed that he will marry for love and not just political
expediency," Arwen said firmly.  "'Tis inconceivable that my son
should languish in a loveless marriage when his own parents were
allowed their choice."

"He is fortunate then," Elrohir said.  "He will have a surfeit of
maids to choose from and mayhap will never know the travails of love. 
Would that all of us were so blessed."

Arwen looked at him with some surprise.  "You are not your merry self,
tôr nîn"-my brother-she said.  "Is something wrong?"

The younger only smiled.  "Nay, thel neth"-younger sister-he averred. 
"What could be wrong?  I was merely remembering a time past when my
life seemed so simple and straightforward."  He pressed a gentle kiss
to a petal-smooth cheek, causing Eldarion to snortle happily.  He
handed his nephew back to Arwen.  "Now, if you will excuse me, I think
I shall return to my room."

With that he departed.  Somehow, he left an impression that the time
he spoke of had nothing to do with the age that had just passed.  What
he truly meant Elladan and perhaps Nimeithel seemed to know but
neither was talking.

***********************
Glossary:
Gwaeron - Sindarin for March
FA - Fourth Age
adar - father
Ivanneth - Sindarin for September

===========================================

Chapter I: Reunion
Minas Tirith, Nórui FA 20
Legolas stepped out of his room in the pavilion housing the private
quarters of the royal family in the Citadel of Minas Tirith.  It had
been many years since he had walked the High City's winding lanes for
much of his time had been spent in the province of Ithilien. 

As he had promised Aragorn, now King Elessar, he had brought south
with him Elves of the Woodland Realm and established a haven in the
region oft called the garden of Gondor.  The Elves were restoring its
beauty and grace even as they helped secure it against the last of the
marauding orcs and renegade Men of the fallen Dark Lord. 

He had come to Minas Tirith for a special occasion that merited great
celebration.  It was in honor of the betrothal of King Elessar and
Queen Arwen's only son, Eldarion, to the granddaughter of one of
Gondor's most noble princes, Imrahil of Dol Amroth.  The King and
Queen had asked the Elven prince to attend the festivities.  They had
couched the invitation in language that made it clear they would not
accept a refusal.  And so Legolas had returned after an absence of
nearly six years.

He made his way down the corridor, his feet hardly making a sound on
the stone floors.  He was dressed formally as the occasion demanded. 
With a circlet wrought of silver and gold woven together upon his fair
hair and garbed in a knee-length, intricately embroidered aquamarine
robe over a white silken under-tunic, finely knit dark grey hose and
ankle high light shoes, he was a vision the likes of which was rarely
seen in the realms of Men in these later days.  It was in this
wondrous guise that the two who came around the bend in the corridor
first beheld him.

"Legolas!  You are here!"

The Elf smiled at the nineteen-year-old prince who stared at him with
delight.  In him he saw much of his mother and glimpses of his father. 
He grinned as the young man hurriedly approached him and enclosed him
in a warm hug.  He glanced up and recognized the prince's companion.

"Elrohir!" he said with pleasure.  "You have returned to Minas Tirith
so soon, mellon nîn."-my friend.

"Aye," the younger twin replied, returning the prince's tight embrace. 
"Elladan and I would not miss our nephew's betrothal."

He was as breathtakingly beautiful as the last time Legolas had seen
him during his latest visit to the City of the Kings.  His stately
raiment only further emphasized the comeliness of his face and form. 
He was arrayed in deep sapphire, muted silver and stark black, colors
that went well with his long obsidian locks and twilight eyes. 
Attired as Legolas in the formal style of the Elves of Greenwood, one
he and Elladan had avidly adopted millennia ago, he wore a short, open
robe that did not conceal his lean, muscular frame or long and supple
legs.  On his head was a simple circlet of pure mithril, the only
indication of his status as one of the twin Lords of Rivendell.  But
even without it, there was no mistaking that here was one who wielded
great power in the court of Gondor.  	

"They did not tell us you had arrived," Eldarion said with a touch of
pique.  "Had we known we would have been the first to welcome you."

"I know, pen neth"-young one-Legolas said soothingly.  "But I believe
you were both busy with other matters and they thought it best not to
disturb you."

"Nothing is so important that we could not lay it aside for a while to
greet you," Eldarion said seriously.  "Is that not so, Uncle?" 

Legolas' heart warmed at the young man's words.  He had watched the
prince of Gondor grow from infancy to early manhood and was very fond
of him.  But it was Elrohir whom Eldarion positively adored and
hero-worshipped just as his own father had done many years ago in
Rivendell.  Uncle and nephew were so close that Aragorn had been heard
to occasionally complain that his heir would sooner listen to the
Elf-twin than his own parents to which Elrohir would good-naturedly
retort that he had been much the same and so had no right to grumble.

Legolas could understand their closeness.  His own friendship with the
boy's father had started and developed along the same lines though
naturally with less intimacy than Aragorn had had with his foster
brothers.  It was a friendship that had outlived conflict and war and
still prevailed in times of relative peace.  But it was during the
Quest of the Ring that it had come to its full strength.  

The Quest.  How long before the memories faded... Legolas swiftly
brushed them aside.  That was past and it was fruitless to dwell on it
now.  He turned his attention in full to the others and noticed the
intent gaze Elrohir had trained on him.

"Your thoughts were elsewhere," Elrohir said softly.  Legolas did not
miss the ever so slight accusatory tone. 

"Forgive me," Legolas apologized.  "'Twas just that I was reminded of
something else."

"The Quest," the darkling Elf said flatly.  "You get that look on your
face when that is on your mind." 

Legolas looked at him a little surprised.  Was there some bitterness
there or had he imagined it?  Before he could respond, however, a
young maiden approached them hurriedly.  She was very lovely and
carried herself with the grace of one born into nobility.

"Eldarion, we have been looking for you!" she exclaimed.  She stopped
when she realized just whom the prince was with. 

Eldarion grinned as he recognized the look of appreciation she gave
the Elves.  It never failed.  Elrohir and Legolas had the kind of
beauty that drew the eyes of men and women alike.  She shyly smiled at
Elrohir with whom she was already familiar but glanced at Legolas a
little diffidently.

Eldarion hastened to introduce her to the Elven prince.  "Legolas,
this is my betrothed, the Lady Ilien of Dol Amroth.  Lady, this is
Prince Legolas of Eryn Lasgalen."  The Elves had to smile at the
obvious pride and affection in the prince's voice.  This was
definitely a love match.

Ilien dropped into a deep curtsy, eyes lowered in deference.  When she
rose and spoke again, her tone had considerably altered to a more
formal one.

"Highness, the King and Queen require our presence.  My aunt and uncle
have arrived from Rohan and wish to see us soonest."

The Elves' keen hearing detected the softest sigh from the prince. 
But Eldarion only said, "Of course, my lady, let us go then."  He
could hardly refuse to meet his betrothed's kinfolk, particularly when
they happened to be King Éomer and Queen Lothiriel of neighboring
Rohan.  He glanced back at his uncle and the Elven prince.  "I will
see you later at the feast," he said. 

After they had departed, Legolas grinned at his friend.  "I hear that
Arwen has been trying to talk you into marrying as well, gwador"-
sworn brother-he teased.  "I am told she has been parading a number of
fair ellith"-Elf-maids-"for your inspection."

"Aye, but I have not found any to my liking."

Legolas' smile faded somewhat.  "But what of your pledge?  'Tis now
more than twenty years and you still have not bound yourself to an
Edhel."-Elf.

"Do not worry about me, Legolas."

"But I do worry."

Elrohir gazed at him, his dark eyes so penetrating that Legolas, had
he been a mere Man, might have flinched.  As it is he held the gaze,
his own never wavering.  It was Elrohir's next utterance that caused
him to break eye contact.

"And you, ernilen?"-my prince?  "I wager you have finally unshut your
heart and found love."

"I did not," Legolas protested, startled by the unexpected statement.

"Very well, we shall not call it love if you find that discomfiting,"
Elrohir coolly said.  "Let us say that your affections were finally
engaged."

Legolas blinked at the suggestion.  "And what makes you think they
were?" he queried.

Elrohir snorted.  "I know you well, Legolas.  Do not insult me by
denying what I have perceived in you." 

The Elven prince hesitated.  For a moment, his dark blue eyes seemed
to lose focus as his thoughts dwelt on some distant memory. 

"Mayhap you are right," he conceded.

"What came of it?"

"It was not meant to be."

"For someone who once renounced love for fear of its tribulations, you
seem to have recovered nicely from this first incursion."

Legolas shrugged.  "It hurt well enough at the time but I have since
learned to cope," he replied.  "I doubt I will feel the like again."    

Elrohir considered the answer then nodded.  Legolas wondered at his
friend's sudden curiosity about the matter but Elrohir changed the
subject before he could comment on this.

"Come, Elladan will be happy to see you as well."  Without giving the
other a chance to respond he turned and led the way to his brother's
chamber.

"Is Nimeithel with him?" Legolas thought to inquire.

"Nay, your law-sister is near her time and Brethildor requested that
Nimeithel stay with her until she gives birth."

Legolas grinned.  "How is Elladan taking his enforced celibacy then?"

"Not very well at all," Elrohir replied, grinning back.  "Estel has
threatened to chain him to his bed if he disturbs his and Arwen's
sleep one more time!"

The two shared a laugh over the older twin's problem as they made
their way to his chamber. 

*********
The betrothal feast was everything a royal event should be.  There was
an abundance of food and drink, a dizzying number of important guests
and the heralding of a political alliance that would strengthen Gondor
even further.  Add to that a Crown Prince who was obviously besotted
with his fair bride-to-be and the awe inspired by the three noble
Edhil and it was truly a memorable night.  The only thing that did not
quite seem apt for the affair was the demeanor of one member of the
royal family.

The younger of the foster brothers of Gondor's king, who also happened
to be one of his chief advisors, spent more time than was deemed
proper with the Elven prince, Legolas.  As the evening progressed, it
became emphatically clear that he preferred his friend's company to
any other's including that of the King himself, his sister, the Queen,
his nephew, the heir of Gondor, and even his own twin brother. 
Legolas had to remind him time and again of his obligations.

At any other time the prince would have welcomed and enjoyed his
friend's attention.  But he was mindful of the demands of the occasion
and did not think it wise that Elrohir should ignore them so
flagrantly.  He was not only Aragorn's kinsman and trusted counsellor,
he was also a favorite of the Crown Prince and had great influence
over the boy. 

There were also many who sought an alliance with the King through an
opportune marriage with members of the royal family.  As his son was
now betrothed, the next logical target was his unmarried Elf-brother
since his daughters, the Princesses Eleniel and Romenna, were little
more than youngsters and Elessar was of no mind to affiance any of his
children without their consent.  Therefore, it was imperative that
Elrohir mingled with the guests even if he had no intention of wedding
any of the fair maids imposed on his attention.  The point was to
establish advantageous political ties along the way. 

Legolas became conscious of Arwen's constant glances in their
direction.  He knew that she looked to him to persuade Elrohir into
doing his duty.

That did not puzzle him.  He and Elrohir had always been very close. 
They had practically grown up together along with Elladan.  Many were
the tales that came out of Greenwood and Rivendell about the three
Elves' adventures and misadventures.  They had driven their respective
fathers to distraction more times than either Elven sire cared to
remember. 

The friendship had never waned, not even when beset by crisis of
various magnitudes.  If anything it seemed to have gotten even
stronger with each challenge to its foundation.  Legolas had not
expected matters to ever change.

But matters did change when Legolas removed to Ithilien and founded
the elven colony of Eryn Gael.  As Elrohir had predicted,
circumstances had proven more of a deterrent to reunions than
distance.  They had last seen each other six years ago.  Much of that
time, Legolas had spent fighting once more.

It had been a period of conflict in the province. 

Faramir, Prince of Ithilien, had trained all his forces on the eastern
borders of his land, the region closest to once-feared Mordor. 
Legolas had lent his strength to Faramir's armies and had spent the
better part of the last several years fighting against orcs, bandits
and Easterlings still intent on extending their own borders into
Gondor. 

Elrohir had wanted to join him but troubles with Gondor's neighbors
had necessitated his and Elladan's presence in Harondor in skirmishes
against encroaching Haradrim.  And of course, there were their
sojourns in Rivendell where they still dwelt after their father,
Elrond, had passed to the West with the other Keepers of the Rings.

Mayhap his closeness to me now is his way of making up for those lost
years, Legolas mused.  Nevertheless, he could not let his friend upset
the delicate balance of politics in Gondor.  Elessar was beloved by
the people but this was no guarantee that intrigue and infighting
would not rear their ugly heads.  As his foster brother, Elrohir had
to help maintain that balance to ensure that his nephew's future
succession would not be fraught with discontent and public
disapproval.

Legolas was all too aware of the opinions of a good number of the
kingdom's nobles.  He knew that many whispered about his unusual
closeness to the royal family despite his lack of kinship to them.  He
was not blind to the envy of those who sought greater influence upon
Gondor's rulers and the suspicions of others who thought there was
something sinister about an Elf being in such a position. 

In Gondor, the Firstborn were no longer feared as they once had been
but there were still many superstitions regarding their strange
customs and powers.  Because of their human heritage, Arwen and her
brothers were not regarded with as much suspicion.  Legolas, a
pureblooded Elf, did not have that luxury.

This was the other reason that Legolas had absented himself from court
for such a long period of time.  He had not wanted to be the reason
for such talk.  By staying away, he had blunted much of the silent
accusations that he was exerting undue influence on the King and the
King's brother to whom Elessar turned for much counsel. 
Unfortunately, Elrohir's behavior tonight could very well undo much of
the good his prolonged absence had secured.

"You really should speak with Lord Dervorin," he urged Elrohir.  "He
has been waiting to talk to you all evening."

Elrohir sighed.  "I am weary of speaking to every lord and lady and
saying the same things over and over again.  You cannot imagine how
tedious it can get."

Legolas smiled understandingly.  "I know of what you speak.  But 'tis
your duty and you must attend to it.  Come now, 'tis not as if you do
not do this in Imladris!"

"Very well, but you must stay right here until I return."

Only upon securing Legolas' word did he finally make his way to the
aforementioned noble.  Legolas watched as the Elf-lord skillfully
engaged the Lord of Ringlo Vale in conversation and exchanged witty
repartee with any who sought his attention.  He was so charming that
many who had earlier resented his aloofness were now completely
enthralled.  He is a most potent and adept politician when he puts his
mind to it, thought Legolas.  A true son of Elrond. 

He cast a glance at the King and Queen.  Arwen caught his eye.  She
gave him a look that conveyed relief and gratitude.  Legolas grinned
back in reply. 

He sympathized with Aragorn and Arwen.  Elrohir had always been the
more intractable twin.  Even Elladan, for all his high spirits and
love of mischief, had been reasonably tamed by the passing of the
years and, later, by the calming influence of love.  Not so Elrohir.

The younger twin was no meek and biddable Elf who did as he was told
without question.  Unless it was on the field of battle, one could not
just tell him what to do; one had to justify one's order first. 

He did not believe in holding one's tongue just to spare someone's
feelings if that someone was a fool or a blackguard to begin with. 
More often than not, he would state his opinion even if what he had to
say was not complimentary at best and too blunt to stomach at worst. 
How he still managed to be an excellent diplomat was a mystery that
had yet to be fathomed. 

He was also deeply passionate about things he cared for.  Once he set
his mind to something, it was difficult to dissuade him or rein him
in.

Legolas smiled as he observed Elrohir smoothly but hastily rid himself
of two overbearing lords, one fawning counsellor and a slew of
flirtatious maidens.  With an expression that would send even the most
pugnacious orc into hiding, the twin hurried back to his friend's
side.  Legolas laughed softly as the other grimly pulled him behind
one of the great pillars that lined the sides of Merethrond, the Hall
of Feasts, in a most obvious bid to avoid further attention.

"That was not too terrible now, was it?" he said.

"You are jesting!  'Twas worse than terrible!" Elrohir exclaimed. 
"Never have I had to listen to so many fatuous, boring, absolutely
pointless inanities!  I grieve for my poor nephew that he will some
day have to bear thrice what I must endure."

Legolas chuckled.  "The evening is still young, Elrohir," he pointed
out.  "Your duties are far from over."

The darkling Elf groaned.  "Must you remind me?"  He sighed.  "The
only saving grace in all this is your presence, Calenlass.  I am truly
glad you are back."

Legolas smiled.  Elrohir had been the first and only one to use the
pet name on him  "I, too, am glad to be here.  I have missed you,
meldiren."-my friend.

Elrohir glanced at him.  "I missed you, too," he said, his voice
suddenly soft and wistful.  "I wish you did not stay away so long."

"You know why I had to."

"Aye.  'Tis amazing how vicious people can be, thinking such thoughts
about you.  If they knew how much good you have done Gondor they would
not be so quick to make judgments about you."

"Nay, they would be quicker."

The darkling Elf snorted.  "They are fools to believe any evil of
you," he said.  "If they only knew how unhappy they make *me* when
their malice keeps you from here."  He sighed pensively.  "With my
oath of service to Gondor, I can only rarely remain in Imladris with
Elladan for more than half of each year and his visits to Gondor
cannot be prolonged now that he is wed to your sister.  When he leaves
there is only you for with Estel king he cannot be the brother of our
earlier days.  Yet he cannot spare me overlong and I must remain ever
at his side in these turbulent times.  These past six years have been
lonely ones, ernilen."-my prince.

Legolas frowned.  "I did not realize you felt my absence so keenly,"
he said.  "Had I known I would have come here now and then."

"Even with all the talk?"

"Yes, despite everything, I would have come.  You are dear to me and I
would not have you unhappy."

Elrohir smiled.  "I only wish-"  He stopped.  "'Tis good of you to
feel that way," he said. 

Legolas had the odd feeling that was not what he been about to say. 
He noticed Aragorn signaling to him from afar that Elrohir was needed
once more. 

"Aragorn summons you," he told the other Elf.  "I believe one of his
nobles wishes to present his daughters to you."

Elrohir scowled.  "Once more into the breach," he muttered.  "You will
wait here?"

Legolas smiled.  "I will wait."

He watched the twin walk to the King and Queen.  He grinned as Elrohir
tried to wipe away his annoyance and affect a cheerful mien.  From the
smiles on everybody's faces, he was apparently successful and if one
did not know him well one would think him merry and content.  But the
dark look he managed to cast in Legolas' direction indicated he was
anything but. 

It was way past the midnight hour when the festivities finally ended. 
The three Elves made their way back to their chambers.

"Estel says you are leaving tomorrow," Elladan said soberly.  "Is this
true?"

Legolas nodded.  "I am needed in Ithilien."

"Yet you have just arrived and were away for so long," Elrohir said. 
"We had hoped you would spend the week with us before we returned to
Imladris."

Legolas sighed.  "If I could stay longer, I would.  You know that,
Elrohir."

Elrohir frowned.  "Then I shall have to go to you instead," he stated. 
"When I return to Gondor I will visit you soonest."

"That will please me," Legolas smiled.  He did not see the guarded
glance Elladan cast at his twin.

They walked down the covered passageway that led to the royal
pavilion.  It forked at one point with the royal apartments on one
side and the quarters of guests of high stature on the other.  Just as
Legolas was about to head for his own chamber, the younger twin
gripped his arm suddenly.  The prince glanced at him inquiringly.

"Legolas, I would speak with you tomorrow before you leave," he said

Legolas looked at him curiously.  But he merely nodded before walking
away.  He did not sense the other's eyes on him or hear the deep
breath he exhaled. 

Elladan shook his head and placed an arm around his brother's
shoulders as they walked on to their respective rooms.

"Why wait, gwanneth?"-younger twin?-he queried.  "Why not tonight?"

Elrohir smiled faintly.  "Let him have a good night's sleep," he said.

Elladan snorted in some amusement.  "But he is returning to Ithilien
tomorrow.  There is no telling when you will meet again.  It might be
months or even a year or more."

Elrohir glanced at his twin.  "He will likely find himself in need of
the respite after our talk.  And I am of a mind to let him have the
time for it."  His eyes gleamed darkly.  "He will need it."

*******************
Glossary:
Nórui - Sindarin for June
Edhil - Elves
Calenlass - Greenleaf (Elrohir's pet name for Legolas)

===========================================

Chapter II: Parting Words
The following morning dawned bright and golden.  But few among the
betrothal feast guests awakened early enough to greet daybreak after
the previous night's late-ending festivities.  Legolas, however, rose
as always with the sun and was soon dressed for the short trip back to
Ithilien.

After a light breakfast, he went to the royal apartments and made his
farewells to a still barely awake King and Queen, hastened to
Elladan's chamber and bade him goodbye then went in search of Elrohir
when his room turned up empty.  When the younger twin was not to be
found, he thought to visit his steed in the stables on the sixth level
of the City before resuming his search for the Elf-lord.  But Elrohir
waylaid him as he reached the gate of the Citadel.  

"I was just looking for you," Legolas said in relief.  "Where were
you?"

"Walking, thinking," Elrohir replied.  "Can we talk in private?" 

Legolas looked at him curiously, wondering at his veiled expression. 
When he nodded his acquiescence, Elrohir led the way down the winding
main road to the lowermost level of the City and out onto the
Pelennor.  They hiked to the southern feet of Mount Mindolluin, the
high mountain just west of Minas Tirith against which outthrust knee
the Guarded City nestled.  The Hallows lay on its eastern flank. 

Elrohir guided his friend up a steep path to a high field on the side
of the mountain.  From there they could survey the City and all the
lands about it for leagues on end.  Legolas breathed in the cool,
clear air.

"'Tis here that Estel found the sapling of the white tree," Elrohir
told him quietly.

Legolas looked at him in surprise.  So, he thought, 'twas here that
the sign was given that Aragorn's love would be granted.  He sighed
and his gaze focused on the vista before him.  Elrohir watched him a
while, studying his fine features, following the contours of his
sculpted face.

"Legolas, I need to know," Elrohir said.  "You and Estel-"  He halted
when the prince turned his eyes upon him.  "You admitted to love," he
continued.  "It was Estel, was it not?"

Legolas was startled.  "Why do you think that?"

"I have eyes, ernil nîn."-my prince.  "Ever since the Quest you have
changed in the way you regard him.  'Twas why you chose to live in
Ithilien; why you swore not to depart these shores until he passes
from this world.  Am I right?" 

Legolas looked uneasily at him, disconcerted to have been read so
clearly.  He turned his gaze away. 

"Aye."

The answer was so soft Elrohir nearly did not hear it.  "You have
changed your course considerably for you to have felt something for
him," he remarked.

"And why should that surprise you?" Legolas questioned.  "'Twas you
who led me down this path after all."

"And now Estel reaps what I have sown.  'Tis ironic, is it not,
considering he was so attached to me as a child."  Again that odd
tinge of bitterness.  "Were you intimate with each other?" he asked
roughly. 

His friend's eyes widened at the impertinence of the question.  "Of
course not!" Legolas rejoined, staring at the other.   

"Why not?"

"He is no Elf!" 

"Estel was raised in Imladris," Elrohir pointed out.  "And he is of my
uncle's line.  Mayhap our duality slumbers in him.  I doubt he would
have looked askance at such a request."

"And have him betray Arwen?  I think not," Legolas said frowningly,
his puzzlement growing stronger.  "I would not hurt someone I hold as
dear as my own sister.  Besides..."  The archer let out a pensive
breath.  "Aragorn cared not for me in that manner.  'Twas always Arwen
he yearned for, why he strove so hard during the Quest.  He loves our
Evenstar, make no mistake about that."

"I have no doubts about that," Elrohir said.  "I could tell that his
heart was ever my sister's else Elladan and I would have had more than
mere words with him.  But that he remained constant does not change
the fact that *you* loved him beyond the bounds of mere friendship." 

His words recalled to Legolas the time when his own relationship with
this son of Elrond had nearly unraveled.  His cheeks colored somewhat. 
Elrohir saw this but did not halt in his queries. 

"What made you care for him?"

Bemused and uncomfortable, Legolas was slow to respond.  But under the
Elf-knight's relentless gaze, he finally gave in and considered the
question.

"I do not really know," he admitted.  "We became very close after
Boromir died and Merry and Pippin were taken.  We spent nearly every
waking minute in each other's company, striving to catch up with the
orcs, arriving in Rohan to an uncertain welcome.  And at the Hornburg,
we fought at each other's side, guarded each other's backs, as we had
never done before.  I would have died for him, as he would have for
me.  I simply felt something more for him than friendship allowed even
if I knew he did not return it."

Elrohir's eyes narrowed.  "And now?"

Legolas sighed.  "It is past.  I do not dwell on it."

"Yet I see your face at times and know you remember."

"One does not simply forget.  Aragorn will always have a place in my
heart."  For a moment silence fell between the two.  "Elrohir, why are
you asking all these questions?" Legolas finally said.

The Elf-warrior let his breath out.  "Because I need to know if you
would open your heart to another," he said.  At the other's astonished
reaction, he drew a deep breath and added: "To *me*."

It was seldom that he witnessed Legolas so at a loss for words.  The
sapphire eyes widened in complete shock and the fine lips parted
wordlessly.  Some minutes actually passed before the archer found his
tongue once more and even then it took several false starts before he
finally found the wherewithal to utter something coherent.  Had the
situation not been so emotionally dire, Elrohir might have found it
amusing.   

"Sweet Eru," Legolas whispered at last.  "What are you saying?"

"I love you, Calenlass nîn"-my Greenleaf-the twin said bluntly.  When
Legolas looked at him in stunned disbelief and the obvious beginnings
of denial, he added sharply, "Oh, I know what you think.  I cannot
compare with Estel.  He was the Hope of the Dúnedain, the restorer of
the Reunited Kingdom and the Elfstone of Gondor.  Why should you even
consider looking at me as you did him?"

He stopped abruptly when Legolas placed his fingers against his lips. 
The golden Elf's eyes were flashing angrily. 

"Stop!" he commanded.  "I will not have you demean yourself or
Aragorn."

Elrohir snorted but did not continue his acerbic words.  "I did not
mean to do so.  I only stated the truth," he said more quietly.  "For
so long had I believed that nothing would come of what I feel for you. 
Yet I could not stay away from you.  Why think you did I make the
choice to be of the Edhil?  Why I have dwelt in Gondor as much as in
Imladris?  'Tis not only my oaths that keep me here, Legolas."

This last was said with so much sorrow and the lingering shadow of
despair that Legolas' anger swiftly faded. 

"I do not know what to say," he said, his voice catching.  "I-I am
sorry."

"Do not apologize," the twin said.  "You could not have stopped me
from feeling as I do about you." 

Legolas became aware of the no long hidden desire in Elrohir's eyes. 
He felt a shiver pass through his body. 

It was the same desire he had seen in Elrohir's eyes so long ago, the
desire that had nearly driven them apart had he not offered himself to
assuage it.  No one he had ever cared for had looked upon him with
that same intensity of need.  If there were others who had gazed upon
him with as much hunger he felt no affinity for them and therefore did
not care.  But for Elrohir he had always cared and therefore had known
the consequences of his wanting.  Now it was happening again. 

Legolas gazed anew at his closest friend.  It did not seem possible
that this should come to pass once more and yet here was the
impossible before him. 

The last time they had lain together had been almost a century ago. 
Aragorn had been but a babe and since then they had not been intimate
again.  Indeed, Elrohir had seemingly resumed his promiscuous ways,
cutting a carnal swathe through the remaining population of unbound
ellith-Elf-maids-in Middle-earth and not a few females of Mortal-kind
as well.  The archer had thought his friend cured of his passion for
him. 

"I thought that such feelings no longer had hold of you," he said
almost desperately.

"You wanted to believe that.  I only pretended for your sake," Elrohir
quietly admitted.  "I have loved you for centuries uncounted,
Calenlass.  Think you I could set aside my love so easily?" 

He waited for Legolas to recover from this revelation. "In truth, I
was greatly tempted to be of Man-kind if only to end the torment of
loving you and not having you," he confessed.  "The urge grew
particularly stronger before you left on the Quest."

Shock registered anew on the archer's face.  He almost staggered under
the weight of this alarming discovery.

"We-we nearly lost you?!" he gasped in near horror.

Elrohir smiled sadly.  "Nearly.  'Twas your plea after Arwen and
Estel's wedding that made me reconsider my decision."

The archer could scarcely speak for his agitation.  "Why did you not
tell me before I left Imladris?!" he demanded, momentarily diverted. 
"To think I left not knowing you might have made such a choice!" 

"I did not wish to disturb your peace when you were embarking on such
a perilous journey," Elrohir said.  He paused, a pained expression
flickering across his handsome features.  "It was the hardest thing I
have ever done, letting you go when I feared so greatly for your
safety.  In truth, harder than making my choice for 'twas your life
that was at stake." 

Legolas felt his eyes sting with sudden regret at this evidence of the
depths of the Elf-knight's selfless regard for him.

"You should have told me," he insisted in a trembling voice.

"To what end?" Elrohir said.  "You would have fled from me."

"Nay, I would not," Legolas protested.  "I did not run from you when
you first wanted me."

"Because you believed that 'twas mere desire that drove me then,"
Elrohir countered.  "I cannot deceive myself that had you thought it
more than desire, that had you seen that I had already begun to love
you, that you would have stayed by me then."

Legolas shook his head, unable to accept the warrior's logic.  "Nay, I
would not have forsaken you even then," he objected.  "I would not
have held our friendship so lightly."

Elrohir's expression told him that, in this matter at least, his
friend did not believe him.  For the Elf-knight to so doubt him in
turn made him unsure of his own assertions.  Ever had Elrohir always
accepted his word without question.

He drew in a shaky breath.  "Whatever you may believe my response
would have been, I wish you had trusted me enough to tell me."

Elrohir simply repeated his earlier statement.  "You would have fled
from me.  You were not ready to open your heart to love.  Not until
Estel."

Legolas looked at him with confused eyes.  "How did you-?"

"I told you, I know you well." 

The Wood-elf floundered.  "Ai, it must have pained you - I mean - Oh
Elbereth, I am truly sorry!  I never meant to hurt you, Elrohir."

"And I told you, no apologies," the warrior reiterated.  "I know you
would never have hurt me intentionally.  Besides, after the initial
pain, I realized that there was hope after all."

"Hope?" Legolas' eyes were wider than they'd ever been.

"Hope that if you had unshut your heart enough to care for him, then
mayhap you would accept another love in his stead," Elrohir said.

The archer's sharp indrawn breath accompanied his suddenly flushed
countenance.

"Why - why did you not c-come to me after-?" he virtually stuttered,
befuddlement and the effects of shock overtaking his usual grace.

"Because your feelings were too fresh, your disappointment too
recent," the twin gently explained.  "But when I saw you yesterday I
knew it was time I told you the truth.  I wanted you so much it was
pure agony trying to conceal it from you." 

Legolas felt a quiver pass through his limbs when the twin came
closer. 

"Elrohir-"

The warrior said very softly. "I do not demand that you love me.  I
would not care for something forced.  But I dare hope to yet gain it. 
All I ask is that you do not compare me with Estel."

Legolas felt a twinge of sympathetic pain at the other's request.  "I
have never compared you to him," he said earnestly.  "You are Elrohir
to me, no other; the dearest friend of my heart."  Espying the
pleasure in the other's eyes, he cautioned anxiously: "I cannot
promise anything."

"Nor do I expect you to." 

He swiftly closed the remaining distance between them and reached up
his hand to cup the prince's face.  Before Legolas could react, the
dark-haired Elf caught his mouth in a tender yet heated kiss. 

Legolas was shocked by the sudden thrill that ran through his limbs. 
The sensations he had thought long forgotten coursed through his veins
with easy familiarity as if they had only lain dormant and now came
alive again at Elrohir's touch.  Unthinkingly, he responded and with
that response found powerful arms enclosing him. 

Elrohir deepened the kiss, compelling him to part his lips.  Legolas
could not suppress a needful moan as his mouth was gently pillaged,
its reaches thoroughly tasted.  He had not expected to feel such
pleasure; had not imagined he would enjoy Elrohir's attentions once
more and so readily at that. 

He struggled for lucidity and, finding it, pulled away with a ragged
gasp.  But he knew it was too late.  Elrohir had heard him and felt
his response. 

They stared at each other, one with chaotic confusion, the other with
swiftly dawning exultation.  Legolas saw the light in Elrohir's argent
eyes.  He suddenly felt a need to get away and put his turbulent
thoughts and feelings in some semblance of order.

"I must go," he said shakily.  "My people await me." 

He turned to leave but Elrohir caught him by the wrist.  He looked
back and saw that the twin was gazing at him with barely suppressed
elation.

"Safe journey then, malthernil"-golden prince-Elrohir said. 

Of a sudden, he smiled and his smile reached out to the prince and
ensnared him against his will. 

"You will be mine, Legolas.  I think you know that."

Legolas stared at him, his heart pounding as loudly as the drums of
the Haradrim in battle.  His breath quickened.  Once again, he
remembered the friend of years past who had known him far more
intimately than any friend could or should possibly know. 

He pulled his hand away and made his way down the path.  But he could
sense the eyes of Elrohir upon him and the sensation made him feel
like a cornered stag at a hunt in Greenwood.

***********************
Glossary:
Edhil - Elves

===========================================

Chapter III: Shield-Brothers
Ithilien, Cerveth FA 21
Nearly a year later, in early July, a great host of Men crossed into
Southern Ithilien.  A small company detached itself and passed the
boundaries of Eryn Gael, the elven colony in the province.  Legolas,
forewarned by his sentries, went to meet them in the large clearing
before his halls. 

The haven was a reminder of Eryn Lasgalen from the architecture of the
dwellings to the green and brown raiment of its Elves.  Every
structure had been made to blend in with its surroundings whether at
ground level or in the branches of the ancient trees.  A stranger
wandering into its midst could be forgiven for thinking himself lost
in another world. 

But while their lodgings looked much the same, other matters had
changed significantly amongst the Silvan Elves, both in the colony and
back in Greenwood.  The War had forced them to mingle more often with
the Eldar and they had since embraced many of the ancient traditions
of their kindred including the inherent duality of their passions.

Amongst the Elves of Eryn Gael, this was further hastened by the
influx of Edhil formerly of Lothlórien.  With the departures of their
lord and lady the Golden Wood had passed into legend.  Many of its
people had either journeyed West with Galadriel or joined Celeborn in
his new realm of East Lórien on the southern bounds of Eryn Lasgalen.

But still others had chosen to cleave to the Wood-elves of Eryn Gael,
attracted by the challenges a new life in the south presented.  It
helped that in Legolas they found a lord much to their liking.  Like
Celeborn, he understood their martial inclinations yet possessed
unerring mastery over them.  And they also found pride and solace in
the presence of their former rulers' grandchildren, the younger twin,
Elrohir, who oft made Gondor his home as much as Rivendell, and Queen
Arwen herself.	

Needless to say, the Lórien Elves' influence upon their new community
was exceedingly efficient.  It did not take long for the fearsome
Galadhrim to rekindle in the Greenwood Elves the long-suppressed,
dormant natures of their forebears when they first awoke by the
ancient shores of Cuivienen. 

But such a subtle though profound change was evident only to those of
Elfkind.  Man still had little or no inkling of the innermost workings
of the elvish mind or the extent of elven passions save for a
knowledgeable few such as the still extant Dúnedain of whom the
Steward of Gondor and the ruling family of Dol Amroth were numbered.

Legolas quietly awaited the approach of the company of riders and foot
soldiers.  He stood alone but he was not alone for warriors and
archers watched from behind trees and up in the branches, lethal and
unseen.  Even in lovely Ithilien, the habits of a lifetime of caution
died hard.

Legolas' eyes narrowed as he recognized the banners of the King of
Gondor and the Prince of Ithilien.  Aragorn and Faramir.  He wondered
what troubles had brought both men to him.

The company came to a stop before him.  He smiled as the lead rider
dismounted and neared him. 

"Aragorn," he said simply for the King had insisted that he never
address him in a more formal fashion.  Aragorn clapped his hand on the
Elf's shoulder; the gesture was returned.  After their softly uttered
greetings, he turned to welcome Faramir as well. 

As he spoke he turned his gaze upon the company and gave it a quick
sweep.  A pair of silvered eyes met his.  He gazed at the rider
questioningly.  Aragorn noticed his expression and turned to see what
he was looking at.

"Elrohir!" the king said.  "I would have you join us, gwanur nîn."-my
kinsman.

The Elvenlord dismounted gracefully and joined the three.  When he
reached them he simply nodded in greeting to Legolas.  Aragorn looked
at him with mild surprise. 

"You astonish me, Elrohir," he remarked.  "Ever have you been known to
greet Legolas with much warmth and eagerness.  Why are you so sedate
now?"

Elrohir coolly replied: "It would not be seemly in front of our men." 

Legolas stared at him curiously.  There was nothing in the warrior's
demeanor to indicate that he had practically upended Legolas' life and
long-held beliefs but a year ago.  Was it possible that Elrohir's
sudden revelation then had been but a result of their long earlier
separation?  The Elf-knight had confessed to deep loneliness during
that period.  Mayhap he is now regretting his outburst and is
uncomfortable with me, Legolas thought.  It would certainly explain
his uncharacteristic reserve with the Elf-prince.  

After a year of worrying and wondering and waiting for the proverbial
shoe to drop, Legolas felt a wave of relief sweep through his body. 
Feeling much lighter, he gave his full attention to the matter at
hand.

Faramir explained why they had come to the Elves.  Through spies in
Harad, they had learned that a massive force of Southrons was moving
against Gondor.  An enemy fleet of Haradrim and Corsairs had left
Umbar and was sailing to the Bay of Belfalas.  Its objective was to
pass down the Anduin and come to Pelargir from whence they would then
ravage the surrounding countryside.  Another force was coming by land. 
They had already broken the disputed borders of South Gondor and were
moving north toward Ithilien.  The Southrons were not bent on
conquest; rather they were intent on extending their borders further
into the north.

"They have grown bold anew," Legolas commented.

"They know we have been expending much of our strength in repulsing
the remnants of Mordor's orcs and minions," Aragorn said.

Faramir said grimly, "Not so much that we cannot fight off new foes. 
They will learn yet of their folly." 

"What of the Rohirrim?" Legolas inquired.  "Can they help?"

"Nay, the Dunlendings have been raiding their borders again.  Eomer
cannot afford to split his forces.  We are alone in this."

"Not so alone.  The Lord of Aglarond will be joining us with a
contingent of Dwarves," Aragorn said.

Legolas' eyes lit up.  "Gimli could never say 'no' to you, Aragorn."

"We plan to meet the enemy fleet at Pelargir," Aragorn continued. 
"Our forces are already amassing there.  Elladan is with them right
now as is my son.  But that will leave Ithilien vulnerable.  We were
hoping you would help us in repelling the second force."

"Since when have I refused Gondor aid?" Legolas smiled humorlessly. 
"My warriors can march by dawn.  Who will lead your army here in
Ithilien?"

"Elrohir is their captain," Aragorn said.

Legolas glanced at Elrohir.  "So, we fight together once more, gwador"
-sworn brother-he remarked.  "It has been a long time."

Elrohir said, "Aye, a long time indeed."

Assured of Legolas' help, Aragorn and Faramir rode away with only a
few men.  The rest of the company remained.  Legolas saw to their
quartering for the night before turning his attention back to Elrohir. 

"Will you stay with your men or will I provide a room for you in my
home?" he asked the Elvenlord.

Elrohir shook his head.  "I will stay with them.  After this conflict
is over then mayhap I will accept the luxury of staying within your
halls."

Legolas nodded.  A good captain would not hie off to comfortable
lodgings while his men made do with starker accommodations.  Not when
a battle was in the offing.  He left to muster his own warriors.

Daybreak found them on the move.  They had met up with the main body
of Gondor's forces and the now formidable army marched to meet the
invaders.  Legolas' scouts had already discovered the whereabouts of
the Southrons.  They were attacking and pillaging small settlements as
they moved northwards toward Ithilien. 

"Treacherous swine," Elrohir snarled as his and Legolas' combined
forces moved swiftly to intercept the enemy.  "You would think that
after Estel made peace with them in their last defeat, they would
honor their own promises."

"Our recent skirmishes with other foes mark us as weakened in their
eyes," Legolas remarked.  "They think it an opportune moment to regain
lost territory."

"They will rue this venture before long," the twin stated.  "We must
head them off before they get any further, Legolas."

"We will," Legolas replied.  "There are many places where we can set
up an ambush for them."

"You mean to take them by stealth."

"Stealth will keep the blood of our people from being spilled over
much."  He noticed the frown on Elrohir's face and was amused.  "What
would you do?  Give them the chance to prepare for our attack?"

Elrohir had to grin.  "Nay, I know 'tis the best way to deal with
these scoundrels.  But I will admit that I am more than eager to teach
them some manners.  Their concept of neighborly conduct leaves much to
be desired."

Legolas chuckled at the twin's choice of words.  "Patience, roch
vreg." -wild stallion.  "You will have your chance."

The prince suddenly urged his steed forward and Elrohir became aware
that there were Elves among the trees.  They came out fully as their
lord approached and soon were making reports.  Elrohir neared them and
realized they were using the Silvan speech of the Wood-elves of which
he knew very little.

He took the opportunity to observe his men's reactions to their Elven
allies.  In particular, their reactions to the Elf-prince who led said
allies.

Curiosity and wonder were rife.  That was to be expected.  Faramir's
people had oft fought side by side with the Ithilien Elves ever since
the founding of the colony.  But the men of Gondor had seldom come
into contact with them and deemed them strange and not to be trifled
with.  Even their prince who had served their cause so valiantly more
than twenty years ago was an object of speculation and wariness.  Most
had only seen Legolas from afar, some during the Great War, others
when they chanced to glimpse him during his infrequent visits to Minas
Tirith.

In battle gear, the Elf-prince was certainly an intriguing sight.  The
combination and contrasts of seeming fragility and tensile strength,
of ethereal fairness against earthy leather and mail were fascinating
at the very least.  Elrohir knew all too well of Legolas' skill with
bow or knife or sword but it had been long since he had witnessed his
friend in action.  He thought about it with a volatile mixture of
anticipation and worry.

Legolas returned to his side.  As they moved onwards once more, the
prince recounted his scouts' reports to the Elvenlord.  Accordingly
they made their plans.

*******
The Haradrim marched toward the borders of Ithilien with much
confidence and hardly any caution.  They had met minimal resistance
along the way, preying as they did on scattered communities with
little or no fighting men among the inhabitants.  They were loaded
with much booty and looked to garnering more in the rich province.

Recklessly they pressed on.  They were headed towards the Crossing of
Poros, the one section of the river that their forces could safely
traverse.  Once they crossed the ford, they would be in Ithilien
itself.

The ford was by no means totally benign.  Though the main passageway
was shallow and firm of bottom, there were many treacherous spots. 
Places where the ground gave no support and sucked down whoever or
whatever was unfortunate enough to tread upon them.  Areas where the
water suddenly rose higher and moved faster than expected to drown the
unsuspecting.  If one kept to the main crossing one was safe enough. 
Wander further away and there was no security of life or limb.

They approached the ford two days later soon after sunrise.  The
region was silent and empty in the early morning twilight.  Encouraged
by the lack of any visible signs of resistance, the Southrons began to
cross.  Only a lone birdcall disturbed the quiet.  The van of the
invaders soon made it to the other side.  The enemy had broken
Ithilien's borders. 

The main body of the army proceeded to make its way across the ford. 
They were almost halfway through when another birdcall sounded.  

As if from nowhere, a hail of arrows greeted the enemy forces.  Chaos
ensued.  More arrows found their marks as the enemy floundered in the
shallow waters.  Horses whinnied in terror, bolted from the main path
and plunged into soft, oozy muck to be sucked down dragging along
supply carts or taking their riders with them.  Foot soldiers, in an
effort to evade the arrows, blundered into the deeper parts of the
ford only to drown, weighed down by their armor and weapons. Screams
of rage and fear filled the air as bodies began to pile up in the now
tainted waters.

On the northern banks of the ford, the forces of Gondor and Ithilien
sprang from their places of concealment.  The harried van of the
Southrons was forced to turn its attention to engaging the enemy.  And
still the deadly arrows rained down upon the hapless Men in the midst
of the ford. 

Legolas fell upon the enemy with all the grace and ferocity of his
Elven forebears.  Wielding bow or blade with equal facility, he was
fearsome in battle.  There was no sign of the gentle Elf in the
warrior who hacked and stabbed and sliced away at any that dared to
confront him.  Yet even in the midst of the fighting, he found himself
seeking the figure of another warrior.  He soon located him.

It was not hard to recognize him.  Feral and ruthless was Elrohir as
he cut a wide swath through his foes.  His dark eyes glinted with cold
rage and merciless determination.  His arm rose and fell tirelessly as
he drove the enemy before him.  Legolas realized that the twin was
fighting his way to him.

Before long, they were side-by-side cutting down the enemy or driving
them back to the ford.  As if they had never parted as
brothers-in-arms for so many years, they fought together with uncanny
synchrony, knowing each other's moves and defending each other's
backs.  Legolas managed a fleeting glance at Elrohir and was met with
the other's gaze.  He saw the light of battle in the other's eyes and
blood-thirst besides.  But he also glimpsed fulfillment and he
suddenly remembered how his friend had fiercely defended him
throughout the War.  He was doing so once more.

The ambush turned into a virtual slaughter.  The Southrons on the
northern bank were reduced to corpses.  The ford was swollen with the
bodies of Men and horses and littered with their carts and supplies. 
Only a small fraction of the army that had not completely made the
crossing managed to break away and flee south.  Legolas and Elrohir
knew they would return to their realm to recoup and one day come back
to plague them anew.  But when some of Gondor's warriors would have
pursued them, Elrohir stopped them.

"Let them go," he said.  "We must get to Pelargir and add our strength
to the King's forces."

They saw to the disposal of the dead and debris first.  Their own
people they buried beneath the eaves of the tall trees of Ithilien. 
The enemy they burned in great pyres.  The spoils they salvaged to be
returned or redistributed as needed. 

As they prepared to march once more, Elrohir approached Legolas.  They
had not been able to speak with each other since before the battle
began.  Legolas was binding his left hand.

"You are hurt," Elrohir said with concern.

Legolas said: "Just a small cut.  'Tis no matter."  He looked at
Elrohir.  "And you?"  Elrohir shook his head.  Legolas smiled
suddenly.  "You fought well."

The Elf-warrior gazed at him.  "As did you," he said.  "I am glad we
had this chance to fight together once more."

"I share the sentiment, gwador," the Elven prince replied.  "I felt no
fear in this battle.  Indeed, I always feel safe when you are at my
side."

He turned to mount his steed but Elrohir stayed him.  "Do you mean
that?" he asked seriously.  "About feeling safe because of me."

Legolas looked at his friend.  "Yes, I mean it," he replied.  "I have
always felt it." 

It was true, Legolas thought.  Elrohir's devotion to him throughout
any fighting always gave him a sense of security.  It was a feeling
that the twin would even consider leaving his forces to their own
devices than allow any harm to come to his friend.

Elrohir was staring at him with a gleam in his twilight eyes.  "I
would sooner perish than let you take hurt in any way," he said.

"Do not say that," Legolas admonished him  "I am not worthy of such a
sacrifice."

"So say you," the twin said.  "But I think otherwise." 

Using the warhorse as cover, he leaned forward with a suddenness that
took Legolas unawares and brushed his lips against the prince's.  He
drew back and briefly regarded the startled Elf.  And then he strode
off.  Legolas stared at his retreating back in shock. 

He has not given up the chase, he thought, his heart suddenly racing.

*******
They reached Pelargir in time to throw their support behind the massed
forces of Gondor. 

Forewarned, the citizens of the port city had fled to safety taking
with them their valuables and many belongings.  When the Southrons
arrived they found naught but the swords and lances of their enemy to
welcome them.  But the Haradrim were not deterred.  Though they had
tasted bitter defeat in the Great War they were still a people to
reckon with, cruel and proud.  Not for them to retreat in ignominy
before the might of Gondor.  

The battle that ensued was fierce and bloody.  Many were the dead and
wounded on both sides.  For a time both sides were evenly matched. 
But the arrival of Legolas and Elrohir's forces tilted the balance in
favor of Gondor and dealt the Haradrim a lethal blow.

Aragorn, taking advantage of a lull in the fighting about him, looked
around at his men.  With some surprise, he realized that while
Elladan, Eldarion and Gimli and his Dwarves fought around him Legolas
was nowhere near.  It worried him for always had the Elf remained at
his side in the many battles during the War of the Ring.  Aragorn had
to admit that he had gotten so used to it that he had come to take it
for granted that Legolas would find a way to join him. 

He finally saw him after a while, further afield, his bow singing,
sword flashing.  And at the Elf-prince's side was another prince who
fought with as much savage efficiency.  It was Elrohir.  Aragorn
permitted himself a small smile as he turned his attention once more
to the fighting.

********
Legolas moved among the tents of his warriors, checking for those who
might bear severe injuries, taking note of any casualties.  He counted
himself fortunate.  The dead among his people were much less than he
had feared.  The injured were greater in number but that was easily
dealt with considering the strength and endurance of the Elven body.

Aragorn had set up camp outside Pelargir and thither had the forces of
Gondor retired after the battle.  The army from Ithilien had also
settled here, the Elves choosing to stay a little apart from the rest. 
That was not too surprising.  The Elves of Ithilien were largely of
Silvan stock.  They had always been less friendly with Men and were,
therefore, more shy of them even after several years of living in the
southern kingdom.  Only the few Sindar like Legolas felt at ease among
the Younger Children of Iluvatar. 

The Elven prince had other things on his mind at present.  With the
triumph of Gondor over the Southrons, he could turn his thoughts to
the trek home.  A home that had been preserved by their victory, thank
the Powers.  He was relieved that the beauty of Ithilien would not be
despoiled in this conflict. 

He noticed Aragorn, his son and his foster brothers approaching along
with Gimli, his Dwarf friend; he walked out to meet them.  He saw that
none of them were hurt or harmed in any way and for that he was
thankful.  He was only realizing now that he had fought the whole
battle by Elrohir's side.  He had not even thought to fight his way to
Aragorn as had been his wont.  All his concern had been for the Elf
who remained at his side.  He was not certain if he had done right or
wrong.  When it came to Elrohir, he wasn't sure of anything any
longer.

He greeted Elladan and Eldarion before turning his attention to the
Dwarf lord.

"'Tis good to see you again, Elf," Gimli said gruffly though his eyes
twinkled with gladness at seeing his old friend again.  "You can still
fight well enough, I see."

"And 'tis good to see that you have lost none of your edge in battle,
Master Dwarf," Legolas replied.  "Though it seems the numbers you slew
fell far short of what you used to be capable of," he added teasingly.

The Dwarf sputtered in indignation.  "I will have you know that 'twas
not my skill that has diminished but the confounded protectiveness of
my people that has increased!" he growled.  "Had I known that becoming
a lord would mean enduring their misguided attempts to coddle me, I
would have stayed put in Erebor and remained a simple Dwarf!"

Legolas laughed merrily, pleased that Gimli had lost none of his
curmudgeonly demeanor.  He turned his attention back to Aragorn and
the others.

"Gondor owes you and your people much, mellon nîn"-my friend- Aragorn
said warmly.

Legolas shook his head.  "We are as much a part of Gondor as any of
your people, Aragorn," he pointed out.  "You owe as nothing."

"I am glad to hear that," Aragorn grinned.  He gave a slightly weary
sigh.  "And I am more than glad that this is over.  We return to Minas
Tirith tomorrow.  I would relieve Arwen of any anxiety as soon as
possible."  He looked at the Elven prince inquiringly.  "Gimli has
agreed to come for a visit.  Will you join us?"

Legolas glanced back at the tents that sheltered his people.  "Nay,"
he replied.  "We will march to Ithilien as soon as it is light.  My
people are anxious to return to their homes.  Wood-elves have no
liking for stone walls and dwellings."

Aragorn said regretfully, "Then we must part again, my friend.  'Tis a
pity.  Arwen would have been pleased to have you visit with us.  She
is with child again by the way."

"That is wonderful news!" Legolas smiled.  "Give her my love and
regards.  Mayhap I will find the time later this year."

"*I* have the time to visit Ithilien," Elrohir suddenly said.  King,
Dwarf and both princes looked at him in surprise.  There was something
unmistakably provocative about the way he spoke.  Only Elladan was not
taken aback and he regarded his brother with amusement mingled with
compassion.  Elrohir looked pointedly at Legolas.  "Did you not say
during your last sojourn in Minas Tirith that it would please you if I
did?"

Legolas hesitated.  "I said that, aye," he answered guardedly.  "But I
did not think it would be so soon after this crisis."

"I am not welcome?" 

Aragorn looked sharply at his foster brother.  He wondered if he had
heard a challenge in the Elf's voice.  Surely not, he thought.  Why
would he take that tone with Legolas?  But a glance at Gimli's
startled expression told him he had not misheard.

Legolas smiled at Elrohir but Aragorn was quick to observe that the
smile did not quite reach his eyes.  "You are always welcome,
Elrohir," the prince said with an edge to his voice. 

"Then I take it that I may join you tomorrow?"  Again the challenging,
almost taunting tone.

"You may if you wish." 

Aragorn and Gimli looked from Elven prince to younger twin in
perplexity.  There was some byplay going on here but they had no idea
what it was.  Aragorn could feel the tension growing though and he
moved quickly to dispel it.  He did not want his mellow mood to be
marred by something as vague as a feeling that something was not quite
right between the two.

"I give you leave to go then," he told his foster brother.  "Will
Elladan join you?"

"Nay," the older twin said.  "I wish to spend some time with Arwen
before I return to Imladris.  This is Elrohir's *desire*, not mine."

Aragorn did not miss the emphatic manner in which Elladan had uttered
the word 'desire' nor was he oblivious of the three-way glance the
Elves shared among themselves.  But before he could ask what in the
name of Arda was going on, his son interrupted.  

Eldarion exclaimed, "Can I go with Uncle Elrohir, Ada?"-Papa?  "You
promised me that I could visit Ithilien when he went."

Aragorn's raised his eyebrows.  "Your mother will not be pleased that
you should take off so precipitately.  Will you not see her first?"
the King pointed out.

"If I go home to Minas Tirith first, she will never let me set out at
all," the youth complained.  "Please, let me go with Uncle Elrohir.  I
swear I shall come home after a week even if he stays on with
Legolas."

Elrohir grinned at his nephew's eagerness.  "Let him come with us,
Estel.  I promise, I will take good care of him.  And I will hold him
to his word and send him home in a week's time."

Aragorn sighed. "Very well then, you may go, ion nîn."-my son.  "But
you must take some men with you.  I will not have you travelling alone
on your way home.  And if you are to go with them tomorrow morning I
advise you to get some rest.  Edhil can march all day on little or no
sleep.  All they need are their dreams."  He grinned at the Elves and
was rewarded with smiles.  "I will not have it said that the heir of
Gondor held up a whole company of Elves because he needed to take a
nap!"

Gimli snickered as Eldarion turned a nice shade of red.  But Legolas
could scarcely find the wherewithal to even smile.  Not when a pair of
twilight eyes regarded him with an intensity that sent tremors up his
spine and threatened his equanimity.  And promised him more than he
was willing to imagine.

************************
Glossary:
Cerveth - Sindarin for July
Edhil - Elves

===========================================

Chapter IV: Overture
Eryn Gael, Ithilien
Elrohir looked up at the stars with delight.  Perhaps it was just his
imagination, but they seemed so much clearer out here in the wilds
than in the enclosed streets of Minas Tirith.  Or was it because he
was in a place he much desired that the stars seemed so much brighter? 

He was standing in the great clearing before Legolas' halls.  Though
dressed quite simply in a silvery shirt, long pale breeches and soft
boots, he still cut a striking figure especially with his raven hair
pulled back into a single thick plait. 

He glanced back at the brightly lit porch of the prince's house,
wondering when Eldarion would awaken. 

Legolas' home was a two-story dwelling that partially embraced the
wizened trunk of an oak tree.  Like all the other homes in the colony,
it had been designed for comfort and functionality.  There was nary a
trace of ostentation or conceit in its simple lines.  Yet it possessed
a loveliness that was enchanting and abounded in charm and grace.

The same could be said for virtually every house in the colony.  But
even more fascinating to mortal eyes was the way the Elves' dwellings
seemed to glimmer in the dark amongst the trees.  It was how the Elves
themselves were perceived by the few Men who passed through this neck
of the woods.  Hence the name of the colony, Eryn Gael, or Glimmering
Wood.

Elrohir looked around him once more in delight.  It was a number of
months since he'd last resided in a structure of wholly elven make. 
Minas Tirith's buildings were beautiful and ancient but they lacked
the affinity with nature that the Firstborn sought in all their
endeavors.  To be at one with trees and flora, one had to leave the
city and travel to the nearby forests.  And while Anduin was close by,
the looming ruins of Osgiliath and the somewhat depressing atmosphere
the fallen city imparted was enough to discourage lengthy visits to
the river.

Aragorn had begun the reclamation of the former capital but it would
take many years before it was even partly habitable again.  And so it
continued to lie near empty in the distance, a constant reminder of
how close the Men of the West had come to oblivion.

Elrohir set aside such melancholic thoughts and returned his attention
to the beauty and serenity around him.  Truly, it was wonderful to be
amongst his kindred once again.   

He heard the faint patter of footsteps behind him.  Turning around, he
smiled fondly at his yawning nephew as the young man emerged from
Legolas' house.

"It seems I have slept the day away, Uncle," the boy remarked
drowsily.

"You needed the rest," the Elf-warrior replied.  He considered his
nephew's state ruefully. 

Aragorn was right, of course.  The Elves had stopped only to take
quick meals or short rests.  He knew they had done this for the sake
of the Men among them and that had they not been present might have
pressed on without stopping at all.  Certainly, the march to Pelargir
would have been much swifter had Edhil comprised the entire force from
Ithilien.  As it was, if the Men had not been mounted, Elrohir doubted
that they could have kept up with the pace the Elves had set.  

They'd reached Eryn Gael the evening before in much less time than was
normally needed to cover the distance from Pelargir.  Such hardy
riding in the wake of his first great battle had worn Eldarion out. 
He had been badly in need of rest when they arrived on the doorstep of
Legolas' gracious home. 

Hardly had Legolas shown him his room when he'd yanked off his tunic
and toppled exhaustedly into bed.  He'd fallen asleep within seconds. 
When he awakened in the morning, he'd been a mass of aching muscles
and stiff limbs.  Taking pity on him, Elrohir had dunked him in a
steaming bath fragrant with healing herbs, undeterred by the young
man's half-hearted protests.

Today, Elrohir had kept company with his nephew, helping him
familiarize himself once more with the colony.  It was many years
since Eldarion had last visited and he had been but a child.  Elrohir
brought him around, introduced him to various residents and showed him
the ways of the Edhil that the boy could not possibly witness within
the stone walls of Minas Tirith.  In this manner did the Elf-lord
teach his sister's son more about his elven heritage. 

And then the young man took yet another long nap.  Elrohir remained
with him, eventually dozing off himself. 

Legolas had been busy elsewhere and they'd barely spoken to each other
the whole day.  He wondered if it was deliberate.  He smiled grimly to
himself.  It would not avail his friend anything.  

One thing he noted this evening.  The clearing was devoid of folk. 
But he could hear the sounds of laughter and song in the distance.  He
wondered what was happening.

"Do you hear that, Uncle?" Eldarion queried.  "And where is
everybody?"

On the point of admitting that he did not know either, Elrohir saw one
of the men-at-arms approaching them.  The man bowed his head in
deference to his prince and the Elvenlord. 

"My lords, our hosts are holding a feast yonder," he said, gesturing
with his head in the direction from whence they had heard the sounds
of merriment.  "Prince Legolas bade me to tell you as soon as you
awakened.  They desire your presence."

They walked across the clearing, past the dwellings and down a gentle
slope on the far side of the colony toward a great meadow a fair
distance away.  

Across the long stretch of verdant space, Elrohir espied the light of
a great bonfire and folk gathered around it in a wide circle.  Elves
moved to and fro bearing food and drink and others played instruments,
thus bringing forth sweet music.  The soldiers of Gondor were gathered
to one side of the circle, somewhat diffident around their fair hosts
but obviously enjoying themselves nonetheless. 

Elf-lord and royal nephew were still some distance from the bonfire
when another tune was struck up.  Elrohir saw Elves in the middle of
the circle, standing around the fire.  They began to dance.  He noted
the swirl of delicate fabric and the flash of twin knives. 

I know that dance, he realized.  He hastened his steps, pulling a
curious Eldarion along.

When they reached the edge of the circle the men greeted them and
opened up their ranks for them.  After acknowledging their greetings,
Elrohir turned his attention to the center of the circle. 

There were three pairs of dancers.  The ellith, or Elf-maids, graceful
as does, held swaths of silken cloth in their hands, waving them as
they moved.  The ellyn, or male Elves, no less graceful but with the
more disciplined motion of warriors, had sheathed their knives only to
draw them out once more with quicksilver speed, twirling them in their
hands to the beat of the music. 

One in particular moved with such lithe yet precise motion that he
commanded much attention.  Elrohir's eyes narrowed with decidedly
greater interest.  It was Legolas.

The Elf-lord stared at the Elven prince with open admiration.  It was
many years since he had seen his friend dance.  Even more years since
Legolas taught him the steps of this particular dance. 

He and Elladan had visited Greenwood at a time of festival.  He'd
found the Silvan folk dances intriguing and persuaded Legolas to teach
him the one that was being performed at present.   

He glanced at his nephew and smiled at the other's wide-eyed stare and
gaping mouth.  Eldarion was patently enthralled by Legolas'
performance.  The archer stood out among the male dancers not only
because of his comeliness but also because of the apparent
effortlessness of his movements.  Even amongst the men, Elrohir heard
whispered comments to this end. 

He watched the rhythmic rise and fall of cloth and blades, the sinuous
movements of slender limbs.  And all the while, his eyes kept
wandering back to Legolas.

As simply garbed as the younger twin, the archer was clad in a
gleaming shirt of palest green over a pair of muted grey breeches and
light boots.  Shorn of the more rugged garments in which he was most
oft seen when he was abroad, he looked more like an ethereal being
than a fearsome warrior of note.

Elrohir stared at the prince, willing him to look his way, daring him
to meet his eyes.  As if responding to his thoughts, Legolas lifted
his head and their gazes collided across the top of the bonfire for
one brief moment.  Elrohir sucked in his breath. 

In that moment he beheld a vision of incomparable beauty.  Golden
light almost formed a halo around shining hair, danced on smooth pale
skin and shone from crystalline eyes.  He remembered once more what
had drawn him so inexorably to his friend those many years ago and
vowed that the night would not pass without incident.

The music quickened, became martial in nature.  The male dancers
turned to face the fire, knives in lowered hands. 

One elleth danced alone for a spell before whirling gracefully out of
the circle whereupon an ellon entered it and approached one of the
warrior dancers.  Just as he neared, the latter spun around and they
locked knives in a series of thrilling movements.  Elrohir remembered
the sequence with singular clarity.  He glanced at Legolas, knew he
would be the last to gain a new partner. 

He did not know which Elf had been designated for the part nor did he
care.  He suddenly demanded the sheathed knives of two startled
men-at-arms and swiftly strapped on the weapons. 

With perfect timing, he stepped into the circle just behind the
archer, forestalling the Elf who was to have joined Legolas.  There
was a murmur of amazement and curious anticipation.  As Legolas
turned, Elrohir drew out his knives smoothly and, in the same graceful
flurry of motion, crossed blades with the prince. 

Legolas stared at him in surprise but, true to his training and skill,
did not falter.  The blue eyes flashed challengingly.  The twin took
up the challenge.  Suddenly, it was if they were back in Greenwood,
teacher and student going through the motions over and over again
until they could do it together unthinkingly and flawlessly.

It was not common to see two Elven princes, one Eldarin, the other
Sindarin, dance together; even rarer to see them move with such
perfect synchrony in a dance that was seldom performed outside the
boundaries of the Woodland Realm. 

The other performers soon stopped to watch them and Elves and Men
alike were reduced to silent astonishment and wonder, enchanted as if
by a spell, as the two thrust, parried and locked knives, with never a
step or motion out of place or beat.  Eldarion's eyes were now as wide
as saucers and his jaw looked likely to hit the ground.

There was a reason behind the dance.  It did not celebrate conflict
but rather served as a reminder that there were no guarantees in war. 
When foes were of even strength there was no knowing who would win or
lose.  Therefore, it was also an admonition to the warmongers, a
warning that more could be lost than gained when violence was used as
a means to an end. 

In a final series of movements, their knives crossed once more and
their eyes met across the locked blades.  A symbolic draw between two
opponents of equal stature and skill.

As the music came to an end, they drew apart, simultaneously sheathing
their weapons on the last note.  To the sounds of applause and praise
they bowed their heads to each other, right hands going to their
breasts in a gesture of deference to the other. 

Lifting his head, Elrohir caught Legolas' eyes.  For the space of a
heartbeat something flickered between them.  Then with a brief nod,
Legolas moved away. 

Elrohir walked back to his nephew and the men-at-arms.  They were loud
in their praise, proud of their lord's performance.  Eldarion was
particularly exhilarated and peppered his uncle with questions about
the dance and how he had come to know it so well. 

The woodland folk plied the Elf-lord and his nephew with food and
drink.  Elrohir graciously accepted the offerings and stayed for a
while with Eldarion and his men, occasionally fielding inquiries from
the other Elves.  And, to Eldarion's amusement, skillfully fending off
the inevitable flirtation or enticement by maids and other warriors
alike.  But after a reasonable period of time, he finally left the
young prince's side to join Legolas.

The Elven prince had retreated outside the circle and moved towards
the first line of trees at the edge of the open space.  He was seated
with some friends on the trunk of a fallen oak in the semi-darkness
beyond the reach of the bonfire.  When the other Elves saw Elrohir
approach, however, they respectfully gave way to him and returned to
the circle.  Legolas watched him with shadowed eyes.

"I did not think you would remember the steps," he said when the
sable-haired Elf settled beside him.  "You did very well."

"If I did well 'tis because I had an excellent teacher," Elrohir
replied.

Legolas smiled briefly.  "We were barely into our third century when I
taught you this dance," he commented.  "It seemed strange to perform
it with you after all this time."

"Were you displeased?"

"Nay, why should I be displeased?"

"What did you feel then?"

Legolas looked at him, uncertainty clouding his eyes.  "I do not
know," he murmured.  "But I do not think we shall do this again."

"Why not?  We moved well together.  We have always fought well
together."  Elrohir chuckled softly.  "And I have not forgotten how
well we do *other things* together."  	

Legolas did not miss the slight emphasis on that telling phrase.  He
suddenly rose to his feet.

"That is what I fear," he said under his breath.  He turned to go but
stopped when he heard the Elf-knight speak. 

"Where will you run?" Elrohir softly said, knowing the other's keen
ears would hear him.  He heard the prince catch his breath.  Rising to
his feet, he faced Legolas.  "Where will you hide?" he challenged with
frightening gentleness.  "There is no place in Middle-earth where you
can conceal yourself from *this*, Calenlass nîn."-my Greenleaf. 

He reached out and placed his clenched fist against the other's chest
over his heart. 

Legolas pulled away with a start.  Drawing a deep breath, he turned
and hurriedly walked away.  Elrohir watched him go, eyes glittering in
the dark, a curious half-smile on his lips.	

**************************
Glossary:
Edhil - Elves (sing. Edhel) 
elleth - Elf-maid
ellon - male Elf

===========================================

Chapter V: Knight's Desire
Legolas looked out at the forest beyond his windows and breathed in
the sweet herb-scented air.  The dryadic loveliness of Ithilien had
waxed with the arrival of the Elves and the forests flourished under
their care.  In turn, the woods nourished the Elves and brought them
respite from weariness and grief.  The archer sighed.  If only he
could find relief from his inner turmoil. 

He sensed a new presence and turned.  Elrohir had entered his
bedchamber. 

The twin looked about the room with a smile, delighting in the way it
seemed almost part of the oak around which the dwelling had been
built.  It was also smaller and cozier than Legolas' quarters in his
father's halls.  	

"'Tis not quite as large as your room in Greenwood," he remarked.

"I like it well enough," Legolas replied briefly.

Elrohir glanced at him and smiled.  Legolas was not certain what to
make of that smile.  "I just realized," the other said, "I have never
been in this room before."

Legolas lifted his chin a little challengingly.  "You never had a
reason to be here before."

Elrohir's smile changed; it no longer reached his eyes.  "I do now,"
he said with ominous softness.

Legolas felt his muscles tense.  He had not wanted to confront Elrohir
tonight.  Yet he'd known something might happen after what occurred
after the dance.  He tried to clear his mind but it was difficult to
think lucidly when the sudden pounding of his heart drowned out
everything else.    

Elrohir seemed to sense his tension.  He gazed at the prince and then,
slowly and deliberately, raked his form with his eyes.  He did not
attempt to hide his appreciation of what he saw nor did he veil the
desire he felt. 

More than ever, Legolas felt like a stag that had been trapped in a
hunt. 

He was clad in naught but a thin bed-shirt and trousers and the
raiment did nothing to conceal the hard planes and symmetrical
contours of his slender frame.  His hair hung loose, unbraided, like a
gleaming waterfall of silver and gold.  Under Elrohir's predatory
gaze, he suddenly felt vulnerable as he had never felt even when he
fought Mordor's forces before the Black Gate. 

*You will be mine, Legolas.  I think you know that.*

Legolas caught his breath as the words came back to him.  He turned
away and stared out the window and found himself contemplating escape
though the opening.   But he realized that doing so would not stop the
inevitable confrontation; it would only merely postpone it or, worse,
impel Elrohir to pursue him, something that might very well rouse the
warrior's ire and impulsiveness, a lethal combination. 

Elbereth only knew what the twin would do once he caught him and
Legolas was certain he would for Elrohir was one of the most
fleet-footed Elves ever to grace Middle-earth.  He knew his friend
well enough to fear that the darkling Elf might simply throw prudence
to the wind and take him right in the clearing, unheeding of watching
eyes or listening ears.  Better to face Elrohir now in the privacy of
his chamber.   

As if reading the prince's thoughts, the twin closed the door. 
Legolas heard the rarely used bolt slide into place.  His shoulders
visibly stiffened.  Elrohir had bolted the door not so much to keep
others from entering the chamber but to hinder any other attempts of
the prince to flee.  Paralyzed by his nervousness, the archer could
not bring himself to turn around as the other Elf approached him.

Elrohir stood behind Legolas, his body closer than was comfortable for
the prince.  "I have missed seeing your hair loose like this," he
remarked.  He reached out and tucked a shining strand behind a shapely
ear.  It was silky to the touch, almost elusively so. 

Legolas moved his head slightly away.  He would not admit it but he
found Elrohir's touch disturbing both to his senses and his thoughts. 

"Avo," he said, his voice a mere whisper.  Don't. 

Elrohir's lips formed a small knowing smile; he perceived that the
prince was affected by his proximity. 

"Avo man?" he countered.  Don't what?

Legolas threw a cautious glance at him.  He found himself at a loss
for words.  What was it that he wanted Elrohir not to do?  Not to
touch him?  Not to look at him in that discomforting way?  He'd always
been in command of himself, never giving away more than he desired,
aloof and unattainable.  Not even Aragorn had probed the innermost
recesses of his heart and soul.  Only the twins had truly known him
though within the bounds of their millennia-long friendship, of
course.  But now Elrohir had stepped beyond those bounds once more,
this time for good.  If he elicited what he sought from Legolas it
would not be for the here and now but for all eternity.

"Do you fear me?"  It was more a statement than a question.

Legolas turned to face him warily.  Elrohir was taller by an inch or
so and his frame more solid.  And they were fairly matched in strength
for though Elrohir had Edain blood in his veins, he counted the
ancient Kings of Doriath and Gondolin among his forebears and the Lady
Galadriel of the Golden Wood besides.

"A little.  You are not the Elrohir I knew."

"We all change to one degree or another."

"I would that you had not changed so much."

"You would have me remain unaltered like unfeeling marble or stone?"

"Nay, but I would have you remain as I knew you.  My best friend.
Elladan's beloved twin."  He hesitated.  "Aragorn's trusted kinsman."

Elrohir's eyes flashed warningly.  "Estel again," he remarked acidly. 
"I will not be his brother in your eyes.  I will be Elrohir and no
other."

"I was not comparing you to him," Legolas said.  "I promised you that
I would not.  But I do wonder why you pursue me now."  At Elrohir's
puzzled expression, he said: "You have been bitter of late whenever I
speak of him.  Are you sure your desire for me is not simply because
of what I felt for him?"

Elrohir laughed shortly.  "If that were the case then I would not be
here at all.  I care not for Estel's leavings."

Legolas's eyes turned glacial.  "I am no plaything to be discarded at
will by anyone, man or woman," he said icily.  "What I do, I do of my
own free will.  I am nobody's leavings."

Elrohir gazed at him.  "Nay, you are not," he murmured.  "Despite all
your years of life and the lovers you have known you are still quite
untouched, malthernilen."-my golden prince.

Legolas eyes' widened.  The iciness within them faded to be replaced
with uncertainty once more. 

"I do not seek to be Estel's rival for a place in your heart," Elrohir
said.  "Nay, what I seek is to supplant him.  I want you to be wholly
mine and nobody else's."

Legolas sucked in his breath.  He had never known such depths of
feeling could exist.  He had to admit, it frightened him.  To
willingly give of one's self so completely and hold nothing back was
something he had never done for anyone.  Now, Elrohir not only wanted
it, he was intent on getting it.

"Elrohir," he said shakily, "Do not ask of me what I cannot give."

"I do not but I will take what you *can* give."  He suddenly moved
forward. 

Reflexively, Legolas stepped back and found himself against the wall. 
Before he could move again, Elrohir was upon him. 

The twin pushed the prince by his shoulders flush against the wall. 
He was not rough but neither was he gentle.  He ignored the sudden
hiss of breath Legolas let out at such handling and instead reached up
with one hand to cup the prince's sculpted jaw.

"I thought you could not be more beautiful than you were on the day of
Eldarion's betrothal," he said silkily.  "I was wrong."

Legolas gasped as Elrohir kissed him full on the mouth.  His first
impulse was to fight and flee but the other anticipated this and
grasped his wrists to hinder him.  Bringing to bear all the power of
the Eldarin blood flowing in his veins he trapped Legolas against the
wall and kept him there.

Shock put Legolas at a disadvantage.  He had always known the other's
strength but he had forgotten that passion and singular desire would
impart to him more than enough force to subdue a fellow warrior. 

Memory slowed him down and made him susceptible to Elrohir's demands. 
His lips were compelled to part and accept the other's onslaught. 
Again the familiar wild thrill swept through his veins.  Pleasure
coursed through his limbs and cascaded over his body as it had in all
their previous encounters. 

Reaction stripped him of resistance.  He could summon neither the
strength nor the will to stop the other.  Elrohir plundered his mouth
and he could do nothing.  And a heady, heated sensation akin to liquid
fire enveloped him like a glove.  It forced a sound of unmistakable
pleasure from him.

Elrohir drew away as suddenly as he had initiated the kiss.  They were
both breathless from the contact.  Legolas stared at the warrior, his
eyes wide with conflict. 

"You cannot deny that you enjoyed that," Elrohir said with just a hint
of a challenge in his tone.  "More than you did when you last yielded
to me."

Legolas averted his gaze.  "This is not right," he murmured
agitatedly.

"Why?  'Tis not as if you have never done this before."

"'Twas different then."

"How was it different?"

Legolas drew in a shaky breath.  "'Twas out of friendship.  I wanted
to help you."

Elrohir laughed softly.  "You certainly helped me.  I would not have
minded being helped that way these past many years."

Legolas glared at him in exasperation for a second before turning his
eyes away once more.  "You know what I mean!" he said.  "Elrohir, we
have been the closest of friends for most of an age.  'Tis difficult
to see you as anything but that.  My yielding to you was for our
friendship's sake, nothing more."  

"Yet you told me once that I alone could make you feel pleasure in a
man's touch."

Legolas felt his cheeks color.  He had forgotten his words to Elrohir
the last time they had lain together.

"You knew desire even then, Legolas," Elrohir softly said.  "And you
say you knew it with Estel though you could not act upon it.  But I am
bound to no other and I love you with all my being.  Can you not lay
our past to rest and look to the future?  Or are you afraid to look
because of what it can mean to both of us?"

Legolas let out his breath.  "Mayhap," he whispered.

"Look at me now," Elrohir said.  "What do you see, Calenlass?  What do
you feel?

Reluctantly Legolas turned his gaze upon Elrohir.  He swallowed hard
as he studied the fair countenance before him.  Scion of the Eldar and
Edain and Maiar, Elrohir was one of the comeliest of the Firstborn. 
Legolas had never denied the darkling Elf's beauty and had even
anchored himself on it when he first submitted to the other's need for
him.  It had been the means by which he had initially endured their
unlikely intimacy, and then learned to find pleasure in it.  That
beauty now pulled him.  He could not ignore what the other's touch
awakened in him.

Elrohir saw the change in the blue eyes, the easing of tension in the
finely wrought mouth.  He leaned forward and pressed a kiss upon now
pliant lips.  Legolas shuddered at the tenderness of the caress.  Of
their own volition, his hands snaked around the twin's waist.

The prince trembled.  His body betrayed him.  It responded to Elrohir
all too readily.  He had no control whatsoever over his reactions, the
way his nerves sang like the strings of a harp when stroked by a
master musician.    

Like the onrushing flow of a raging river the pleasure swept through
his veins.  He could not help responding and the more he responded the
more Elrohir gave back until they were both breathing raggedly. 

Valar!  His kisses are more potent than I remember! Legolas dazedly
thought.

The sound of fabric rending startled him out of his haze.  He jerked
back to find his shirt torn nearly halfway down the front.  Elrohir
ignored his shocked expression and simply finished ripping the
material, leaving the shirt open to its hem.

"What are you doing?" Legolas gasped.

"It will take forever to pull it over your head," came the
matter-of-fact answer.  "I am not about to give you time to change
your mind."

He took the archer by the wrist and pulled him purposely to the bed.

"You are impatient, Elrondion!"-son of Elrond!-Legolas protested.

With a sudden movement, Elrohir spun Legolas around and compelled him
to move backward.  The edge of the bed caught at the back of the
archer's knees and he fell upon the mattress.  Elrohir swiftly
followed him down.

"I am done with waiting!" Elrohir retorted.

Legolas found himself torn between amusement at the other's keenness
and apprehension at what was to come.  "I hope we won't regret this,"
he said under his breath.

"We won't, I promise you," Elrohir murmured. 

Before the prince could speak once more, he was silenced by another
kiss, so deep and passionate that all sentient thought fled.  Legolas
gave up any notions of further resistance and yielded to his
war-brother's desire.

Their garments were divested with rapid precision.  A pair of silvery
eyes swiftly studied his body anew, dwelling on his groin with a dark
gleam that made him catch his breath and made him feel butterflies in
his belly not felt since his adolescence.  Not even the prospect of
facing Sauron's hordes had unnerved him this deeply or easily.  One
glimpse of the Elf-knight's formidable length increased the fluttering
sensation and he chided himself for looking at all. 

He succumbed swiftly to Elrohir's sensual onslaught, astounded anew by
how well the twin knew his body.  He had lain with many an Elf-maid
since their first coupling but none had ever brought him to such peaks
of pleasure as Elrohir did with seeming ease.  And he had never been
tempted to sample the attractions of another male Edhel.  Only the
Elf-knight roused that latent desire in him and stoked it with such
enthralling skill that he made all the prince's past affairs pale in
comparison.  Tonight was no exception. 

With long-honed ability, bold Imladris tamed, seduced, conquered anew
the sacred core of primal Greenwood.

Elrohir was not merely a skilled lover, he was a consummate one.  But
the talent came not only from lengthy experience but also the twin's
sensitivity to his partners' needs.  Legolas had never heard less than
glowing assessments of the Elf-lord's abilities and when those same
abilities had first been turned on him, he'd had to concede that the
compliments were not exaggerated. 

Hands knowingly mapped his body, lips mercilessly teased his flesh;
even whispered words inflamed his senses in their sheer eroticism -
the warrior wielded as many weapons off the battlefield as on. 
Elrohir took his time pleasuring him, seeking the places that
responded to his touch, bringing him repeatedly to the brink of
completion then pulling back to prolong the sweet torture.  Before
long, the archer's whole being was alive with exquisite sensation.

Legolas gasped when Elrohir finally took him into his mouth, fondling
him with lips and tongue until he was groaning and bucking his hips
needfully.  Incoherent words and meaningless sounds spilled from his
lips as the pleasure mounted and peaked; he felt he could no longer
endure it and still stay sane.  Sensing that he was near the end of
his forbearance, the twin adroitly delivered him into shattering
release.

The tumult of completion left him nearly winded.  He lay still,
breathing hard and unevenly.  The mattress dipped as Elrohir crept up
to lie beside him, one arm curling around him possessively. 

At his touch, Legolas felt a slow fire blister its way through his
nerves.  Desire flaring in his veins, he languidly turned to face the
warrior, blue eyes deepening to indigo, and pressed his lips to the
other's mouth, eliciting a low thrilling moan.  He reached behind and
unbraided the thick single plait that held back Elrohir's mane then
ran his fingers through the sable locks, luxuriating in the satin
softness of it. 

Two millennia ago, when he'd first shared his bed with Elrohir, he had
been for the most part, a passive partner.  Despite the pleasure he
had experienced, it had been too new to him, too different from what
he had known.  But the last time they'd lain together just over a
century past, he'd taken a more active role, his passion awakened by
Elrohir's peerless loving.  Now, in rediscovering the twin's singular
effect on him, he felt a burning need to give as well as take. 
Letting his hands roam, he touched and stroked the darkling Elf until
the latter's body thrummed with pleasure.  He watched the twilight
eyes darken dangerously and felt a thrill of anticipation shoot up his
spine.

His actions had indeed astonished Elrohir and filled him with delight
though he sensed that Legolas withheld a part of himself.  The
Elf-knight did not resent this emotional reticence.  He knew his
Greenleaf all too well.  It was the prince's way of protecting himself
from heartbreak and the anguish that inevitably followed.  For
Elrohir, it was enough that Legolas yielded to him once more; their
renewed intimacy a gift he treasured.  And the reciprocation of his
attentions served to deepen his love and desire, evident as he renewed
his assault upon the other's senses. 

He surprised the archer by urging him onto his stomach.  It was a new
experience for Legolas, to be unable to see his lover, to only feel
what the other was doing to him.

He caught his breath as Elrohir covered him with his own body, bracing
himself on either side of the archer's torso with his powerful arms. 
He shivered deliciously as the entire lengths of their graceful frames
molded together and warm kisses and shallow bites were teasingly
administered to his nape and shoulders and the skin just behind his
ears, a newly discovered spot highly sensitive to the twin's caresses. 
He moaned as the twin's lips wandered down his back, exploring,
tasting, nibbling, all the way to the taut mounds of his rear.  Before
long he was gasping with every swipe and thrust of Elrohir's tongue.   

By the time Elrohir crept up his full length once more, Legolas was
trembling violently from the wild surges of sensation that raced
through his very veins.  Beyond shame, past prudence, he found himself
imploring the twin to end the heady torment. 

Acquiescing to his plea, Elrohir gently eased him up onto his elbows
and knees.  He groaned with mingled relief and pleasure as the warrior
entered him slowly then began to breathe erratically when the twin
drove into him with deep, even strokes.  Heated kisses were pressed to
his back and shoulders leaving him all aquiver.

When Elrohir reached around his hips to cup him in his hand and fondle
him to a second culmination, Legolas' senses reeled wildly.  The
Elvenlord was a master at overwhelming him with multiple assaults,
driving him mindless with rapture.  Taken from behind, claimed from
below - soon he was teetering on the brink of yet another explosion.

It was then that he felt it.  An echo of pleasure not his own,
building up swiftly, resounding in his mind and senses, building his
pleasure to even greater heights.  It occurred to him, even in his
fogged state, that it must be Elrohir's feelings that he was
experiencing though how he did not have the time to ponder.  For a
moment later, release overcame them almost at the same instant. 

The result was near cataclysmic.  The rapture, however faintly felt,
reverberated through him, linked with his own rolling climax and
stoked and drew it out until it seemed his whole being was one mass of
pure and powerful sensation.  With every overwhelming wave that washed
over him, he cried out hoarsely, helplessly, clutched convulsively at
the sheet that it nearly came apart.

As he breathlessly rode out the multitude of sensations, he heard his
name gasped out, Elrohir's warm breath feathering his nape.  He knew
then that his assumption was right and that he had somehow tapped into
Elrohir's pleasure as it evolved into completion.  Or had the warrior
unleashed a gift or skill he'd previously hidden from his friend? 
Whatever it was, it left the prince completely drained and sated.    

After Elrohir withdrew from him, he rolled onto his back and looked
tiredly at the sable-haired Elf.  He was unaccountably pleased to see
the twin looking as spent and contented as he himself felt.  But
though sleep beckoned, he forced himself to stay awake a while longer. 
He had to know...

When he'd regained enough breath to speak, he said: "What - what did
you do?"  At the Elf-knight's questioning gaze, he added uncertainly,
"I felt your pleasure.  It was faint but it - it joined with mine and
- and heightened it."  He shuddered as he recalled the almost
unbearable rapture.  "I have never felt anything like it before."

Elrohir hesitated before answering.  "As I told you I have loved you
long and deeply.  Mayhap 'twas but my passion spilling over that you
felt."

Legolas peered at him wonderingly.  For some reason, he had the
feeling that the twin was holding something back.  But before he could
question him further, Elrohir forestalled him.

"Does it matter how it happened?" he softly said.   "So long as you
enjoyed it that is all I care about."

Legolas thought about it then nodded and relaxed back against the
pillows.

"Valar, you've exhausted me," he said with a tired grin.  "I shall
really need this night's sleep."

Elrohir's answering smile seemed somewhat pensive.  "I would ask a
favor of you," he murmured.

"If it is within my power."

"I would that you still be by my side come morning," he said.  The
twilight eyes quietly pleaded with him, the shadow of expected denial
hovering at their edges. 

Legolas comprehended the significance of the request.  Save for the
last time they had lain together, he had always left Elrohir's side by
dawn.  It had been his way of keeping his twofold roles as longtime
boon companion and occasional lover from merging.  Now Elrohir was
asking him to stay.  To be *both*.

He gazed at Elrohir.  *Meldir, gwador, melethron.*  Friend, sworn
brother, lover.  He had not thought it possible for anyone to be all
three to him.  Yet here he was again, sharing his bed with his best
friend and pledged brother.  /When will I learn never to underestimate
him?/

"I will be by your side," Legolas whispered, educing a smile of such
tender gratitude that his heart filled with gladness. 

He moved into Elrohir's inviting embrace and laid his head upon his
shoulder.  Strange, he thought bemusedly as sleep took hold of him,
but this feels so right.  As if I have always belonged here...

***********************
Glossary: 
Calenlass - Greenleaf (Elrohir's pet name for Legolas)

===============================================

Chapter VI: First Steps
Legolas felt his cheeks burn each time any of his people looked at him
with their maddeningly indulgent smiles.  It was blatantly apparent
that the whole colony was aware of the turn his relationship with
Elrohir had taken.  The Elven prince would have liked to pretend that
it was elvish perceptiveness that made his people cognizant of his
intimacy with Elrohir.  But in all honesty he had to admit it was his
own impassioned outbursts that fateful night that had tipped them all
off. 

Not that he could have helped himself even had he retained the ability
to recall the proximity of other dwellings to his halls not to mention
inconveniently sharp elven ears.  Elrohir's exquisite ministrations
had rendered that virtually impossible.  And no doubt would continue
to do so when he resumed his nocturnal visits.  He would just have to
resign himself to being the object of knowing glances and smiles each
morning after.  Either that or move their *activities* out of earshot
of everybody else.

Only Eldarion, who apparently slept as soundly as a hobbit after a
hefty meal, and the company of soldiers from Minas Tirith, whose
quarters were at the edge of the settlement, remained ignorant of the
state of affairs.  Thank Elbereth there were some who didn't know, the
archer mused.  He wasn't sure he would be able to keep his dignity in
front of Eldarion should the young prince find out he and his uncle
were lovers.  And the soldiers - well, they would not understand; they
were only human after all.

One thing though was unmistakable.  The folk of Eryn Gael were not
only aware of his relationship with the Elvenlord, they most heartily
approved of it.  They were happy that their prince had apparently
found his match in one as noble and beloved as Elrond's younger son,
the Greenwood Elves no less happy than the Galadhrim who had adored
their former lord and lady's grandchildren.

Legolas had to concede that there was something compelling about
having a steady companion.  In Elrohir he had a trusted counsellor, a
pillar of strength and a source of comfort and encouragement on even
the most vexing of days.  And he acknowledged, if only to himself,
that he had sorely missed the warmth and affection only a lover could
provide.  That Elrohir gave both and more besides made his contentment
even more acute.  It made him blush to admit it but he was actually
looking forward to another coupling with the twin. 

However, Elrohir did not attempt further intimacy with him after that
first night.  Instead he spent much time with Eldarion, helping the
young prince learn more about the Elves of Ithilien, further
instructing him in the nuances of elven life and culture as could not
be clearly imparted in the City of the Kings.  When he was with
Legolas, he conveyed his affection through other means whether it was
simply helping him with his day-to-day tasks or taking on some of the
prince's responsibilities himself.  

Legolas realized the warrior was giving him time to come to terms with
their new relationship.  This act of love and concern touched him,
further impelling him to seek time alone with the twin.  He found
himself planning toward that purpose.  Not that he would ever tell the
warrior about it.  That would leave him completely helpless for the
Elf-knight would most certainly make short and explosive work of his
desire.

Nonetheless, that desire was the reason why, a day after sending his
nephew back to Minas Tirith, the younger twin found himself enjoying
the pleasure of bathing in a crystal clear spring amidst the quiet
grandeur of nature.  Legolas had led him to this secluded spot soon
after the morning meal.  A lovely little spring with a small
waterfall, its banks bound by rocks and tall reeds.  Trees hid it from
plain sight and made of it a sanctuary.  The other Elves seldom came
here for it was known to be their prince's place of solitude. 

Elrohir broke the surface of the water and swiftly looked around.  He
frowned.  The surface of the spring was absolutely still, except for
the slight ripples his body had created.  He was about to submerge
once more when an alabaster form shot up before him, making him
stumble backwards and fall back into the water.  He came up sputtering
to see Legolas laughing merrily at him.  He glared at the prince. 

"That was - that was underhanded!" he growled. 

Legolas only chuckled more.  With a motion of his head, he indicated
to the twin that it was time to leave the spring.  He turned and
headed for the bank.  Elrohir followed him slowly.  He watched as the
prince emerged from the water, a slender yet sleekly muscled form,
shining pale in the bright sunlight.  Like marble, Elrohir thought. 
White and cool and flawless. 

The two drew on their long breeches and shoes but left off their
shirts and jerkins.  Sitting beneath a rowan tree, they waited for the
sun to dry their wet bodies.

Elrohir became aware of the scent of his companion as they quietly
waited.  A whiff of it evoked images of tall trees and fragrant
leaves, wild fruit and flowers on sun-dappled forest floors,
herb-scented breezes and cold, clean streams.  It was elusive; it
defied proper description.

It was as seductive now as it had been the first time Legolas had
submitted to him.  And in their latest coupling it had enthralled him
all over again.  It had accompanied every kiss and caress, beguiled
his senses as his eyes and lips and hands wandered over velvety skin,
taut muscle and slender limbs, further stoking his desire, deepening
the enchantment the prince wove around him.  With an inward sigh, he
shook the all too tantalizing memory from his mind.

Legolas handed him his shirt and jerkin.  As he donned the shirt, he
noted the way the muscles on the Elf's lean frame pulled as he drew on
his clothing.  It never ceased to amaze him that someone so ethereal
in appearance could be so strong and well made.  Then again, there
were many who made this false assumption much to their regret; that
is, if they survived long enough to feel anything at all.

Elrohir snickered at the thought.  At Legolas' inquiring glance, he
said: "Have you ever wondered why people see you as a fragile
creature?  You would think that after having seen you in battle, they
would realize how mistaken they are.  But nay, once you take off your
armor they think you as delicate and breakable as crystal.  Even I am
guilty of this sometimes."  At Legolas' amused smile, he added,
"Though you thoroughly disabused me of that notion all over again two
weeks ago."

The prince smirked.  "What did you expect of a fellow warrior?"

"More resistance than you showed when I cornered you."  Elrohir looked
at his companion with some puzzlement.  "Our strength is fairly equal. 
You could have fought me.  What hindered you?"

"Shock," Legolas ruefully replied.  "I couldn't think, let alone act." 
He glanced at Elrohir.  "Count yourself fortunate.  Had I my wits
about me, you wouldn't have had me so easily."

A gust of mirth escaped Elrohir's lips at the not so subtle threat. 
Legolas studied him curiously.

"The wanting can sometimes be greater than the having, Elrohir," he
remarked.  "Now that you have gained what you desire once more, are
you content?"

Elrohir frowned and looked at him.  "But I have not gained it all," he
quietly said.  "You may have yielded your body to me but not your
heart and soul.  How can I be content?  But as to wanting and having…" 
He paused a moment.  "For me, the having is greater than the wanting. 
It is inconceivable to me that one should care only for the chase and
cease to desire one's quarry when one has finally captured it." 

He turned his dusky eyes on the archer.  "It is inconceivable that
anyone should not want you after having won you.  You are the most
beautiful being I have ever known, Calenlass.  And the most
desirable."  He heard the prince's shaky intake of breath and smiled. 
"And after having known you so intimately, I can confidently say, the
most satisfying as well.  Forgive me, I did not mean to discomfort
you," he laughed softly as deep color stained Legolas's cheeks.

"You praise me too much," the prince murmured.

"Nay, I only state the truth.  This despite the fact that you have not
truly yielded to me."  He smiled a little sadly at Legolas' surprised
reaction.  "You held back part of yourself as usual, prince of
Greenwood.  I have not plumbed the depths of your passion."  He
sighed.  "In that I envy Estel that you surrendered your heart to
him."

Legolas hesitated.  After a while, he murmured, "I did not."  When
Elrohir looked at him sceptically, he looked into the distance, his
eyes unseeing.  "I said I loved him, I did not say I surrendered my
heart," he said.  "'Tis frightening to give of one's self so
completely.  I have never done so.  I do not believe I can."

"Still the guarded heart," Elrohir whispered.  He felt Legolas'
startled eyes upon him.  "You keep your heart well shielded up to now. 
I think it a pity, ernil daur."-forest prince.  "For how will you ever
experience love in all its splendor if you do not open yourself to
it?"  At the other's silence, he said, "'Tis the reason that you are
so desired.  Like forbidden fruit, the unattainable is always sought
in the prideful hope that it may be gotten."

Legolas' eyes narrowed.  "And once gotten, wearied of?" he remarked
somewhat caustically.  "Will you tire of me should I ever yield all to
you, Elf-knight?"

Elrohir met his eyes and held his gaze.  "You should know me better
than that, Legolas.  What I treasure I cherish forever.  And you are
the greatest treasure of all."  He suddenly averted his eyes.  "Yet
Estel is far wealthier than I for you gave him your love no matter how
little it may have been.  You probably think me brash and confident
but in truth I fear that I will never be as fortunate." 

His voice caught at the last and he suddenly rose to his feet,
snatched up his jerkin and walked away.

Legolas stared after his retreating form.  I have never been offered
love as pure and complete as his, he realized with a pang.  Always
there had been prerequisites whether it was personal or political
gain, comradeship in war or sheer physical desire. 

Elrohir loved him for himself.  He always had as friend and brother. 
But even now, when he sought much more than that, he still cared for
Legolas as selflessly as before. 

The prince remembered the past when the other had despaired, nearly
giving in to grief rather than burden his friend with the knowledge of
his desire.  When Legolas had offered him what he needed, he had not
accepted it so readily.  And even when he finally did, he had almost
not gone through with their coupling when he thought his friend
unwilling.  Just as he would not have forced himself upon Legolas that
painful instance a century ago had the archer flatly refused to yield. 
Even then he gave me a choice though he made it nigh impossible for me
to deny him, Legolas thought. 

A week ago, Legolas belatedly realized, he would not have pressed on
had the prince protested in earnest.  He would never have compelled
his friend to do something against his will no matter how much it
pained him in return.  Elrohir's admission of fear made that
heartbreakingly clear.  Grasping the full extent of what the other
offered him, Legolas found himself lacking.  Following on the heels of
that thought came the unexpected need to *be* worthy of such devotion. 
Rising, he followed the twin.

Elrohir drew on his jerkin then leaned pensively against a graceful
beech.  You are a fool to offer your love where it is not wanted, his
reason castigated him.  You should not have pursued this.  It will
only come to naught.  His heart stays guarded and you will know
rejection and grief.

He felt the prince's hand on his shoulder.  But he did not look at
him.  He was not certain he wanted to see what would be in the other's
eyes, least of all pity.

He started when he felt Legolas' fingers on his face, compelling him
to turn his head and look at him.  Reluctantly, he obeyed. 

Sapphire pools met his gaze and despite his unhappiness he still felt
the enchantment their beauty so easily wove.  For the longest moment,
the prince gazed at him and then, to Elrohir's surprise, Legolas
brushed his lips against his.  He stared questioningly at the prince
but the other simply pressed his mouth against his in reply.

Elrohir was torn between elation and confusion.  Always had he been
the one to initiate any act of love.  To have Legolas take the
initiative now was a great pleasure.  He only wished he knew the
reason why.  Not that he could think very clearly when his friend was
suddenly making a sensual duel of their kiss.  It left him breathless.

Legolas drew away slightly and noted Elrohir's bemusement.  His smile
grew predatory, a change that quickly registered on the other's mind. 
Elrohir eyed him warily.

"Heltho." 

Elrohir blinked.  *Strip*.  Had he really heard the huskily voiced
command? 

"What?" he half gasped.

Legolas' eyes gleamed.  "You heard me well enough," he almost purred. 
"Or do you require assistance?"

Much, much later, as he re-donned his clothes, Elrohir could not help
wondering if he had dreamed up the whole experience though his body
most emphatically told him it had been no illusion.  But there had
been a difference between this afternoon and the week before.   

There had been another dimension to their coupling. 

He had been startled by what the prince was capable of when he
unleashed even a fraction of what he held back.  Elrohir could not
half imagine what it would be like if Legolas were to ever drop all
restraint.  But why did he do this in the first place? Elrohir
wondered.

/It was almost as if he wanted it so much that he.../  The darkling
Elf frowned.  Nay, that was too ridiculous to even consider.

/I did./

He caught his breath and glanced at the prince.  Legolas was busily
drawing on his jerkin.  He was not even looking at Elrohir.  The
Elf-lord wondered if he had imagined the reply.

"You did not."

Elrohir sighed.  "Have you made it your habit to read other people's
minds?" he said a little tartly.

Legolas looked up and grinned.  "Are you complaining?"

Elrohir shook his head.  "Of course not.  I have nothing to hide from
you."  He suddenly stopped and stared at the prince wordlessly for
several moments as the other's earlier reply finally registered in
full.  "You wanted it?  Why?" he finally said. 

Legolas' grin changed into a small smile.  "Apart from enjoying the
fruits of your considerable skill?" he teased.  He chuckled when
Elrohir rolled his eyes then pressed on.  "If I am to learn to love
you then I must open myself to your love," he explained.  "Is that not
what you said, Aduial?" 

Elrohir started at the newly bestowed pet name.  "Twilight?" he
repeated wonderingly.

"'Tis the color of your eyes," Legolas said, his smile brightening. 
"Am I the only one who has ever thought to call you thus?"

Elrohir could only nod for the sudden lump in his throat hindered
speech of any kind.  Legolas reached out and tucked a stray strand of
raven hair behind his ear.  The intimate gesture made the twin smile
in turn.

Legolas took his lover's hands in his, clasping them together within
his own palms.  "Only a fool would let someone like you slip through
his fingers," he softly said.  "For you alone will I try to yield all
that I am and have.  Only you, Elrohir, nobody else."

Elrohir swallowed the lump, wordlessly pulled the prince into his arms
and held him tight against his heart.  And when he felt the other's
arms encircle him in as snug an embrace, he fervently hoped it wasn't
just a dream.  Ai, Elbereth, please let this be real, he thought.

/It is./

Elrohir smiled.

*******************
Glossary:
Calenlass - Greenleaf (Elrohir's pet name for Legolas)
Aduial - Twilight (Legolas' pet name for Elrohir)

=============================================

Chapter VII: Surprises
Minas Tirith, Úrui FA 21
"We will have to be discreet."  Legolas noted Elrohir's quick frown. 
"Aragorn's vassals will not understand," he reminded his friend.  "Our
ways are not theirs.  They will regard our relationship as unnatural
and abhorrent." 
	
The two were travelling on horseback to Minas Tirith for Elrohir had
been summoned back by the King.  About them were several Elven
warriors. 

It was more than a month since Elrohir had accompanied Legolas back to
Ithilien after the Haradrim incursion.  It was a month the Rivendell
Elf had savored especially after he had sent his royal nephew back to
Minas Tirith as promised.  For in Ithilien there had been no prying
eyes to mar the sweet interlude he had shared with his beloved prince. 
Legolas' words brought back the starkness of reality.

"I know that all too well," the twin muttered. 

Legolas added: "Besides, if they were suspicious enough before of my
intentions they will be doubly so now even should they tolerate our
relationship.  They will say that our intimacy will increase my
influence over you and, through you, over Aragorn.  Your prolonged
stay in Ithilien will set tongues wagging if it has not already.  And
the common folk will be even less understanding.  Elves are still a
strange people to them even if they have accepted our presence here." 

Elrohir nodded resignedly.  He glanced up at the Tower of Ecthelion. 
They had passed the Rammas Echor and were now traversing the Pelennor. 
About them, peasant folk and other travellers stared at them with a
mixture of reverence and awe and just a hint of fear. 

It was unusual enough to have their king's foster brother in their
midst journeying as casually as they were.  It was even more unusual
to see him in the company of several Edhil.  Elrohir noted how many
quickly looked away should they meet the eyes of any of the Elves.

"What of Estel and Arwen?" he asked.  "I would have them know at
least."  When Legolas did not answer at once, he looked at him
curiously.  "Surely you do not fear their censure."

"'Tis not their censure I fear.  But I would not have them worry that
you might be diverted from your duties to Gondor because of me."  When
Elrohir would have protested, Legolas quelled him with a stare.  "You
can be more stubborn than a Dwarf with a grudge and as tenacious as a
hobbit in search of his second breakfast.  I would not blame them if
they thought you capable of casting aside your obligations should you
think it the only way to have what you desire.  You know that Eldarion
depends on you and looks to you for guidance and training."

Elrohir drew in his breath, his mouth curling into a scowl.  "I never
thought I would regret coming back to him," he said.  "Are we to stay
apart then for the duration of this visit?"

Legolas smiled.  "Discretion is not synonymous with chastity if that
is what you mean," he chuckled.  

Elrohir said in a low voice, "'Tis not only your bed that I seek.  I
would have your company, too."

His words recalled toLegolas that it was not desire that drove Elrohir's love but rather
the other way around.  The prince reached out his hand to squeeze the
other's in a rare public display of affection.

They went straight to the King's study upon their arrival.  As they
made their progress down the corridors, Legolas observed the reactions
of the men they met along the way.  Their greetings to him were
friendly enough but he could sense the underlying interest in his
being in long company with their king's brother.  Elrohir's prolonged
visit to Ithilien had indeed set off speculation about them.

Arwen was within with her husband.  As soon as her brother stepped
into the room, she hurried to him and swept him into a tight embrace
while Aragorn greeted Legolas. 

"At last you are here!" she said.  She drew back and a scolding look
settled on her face.  "Would it have been too much to ask of you and
Eldarion to see me before heading off for Ithilien?" she demanded.  "I
had to be content with Estel's assurances that you were both well!"

Elrohir's eyes widened with guilt.  "Forgive me, thel nîn."-my sister. 
"I did not mean to distress you."

She laughed softly.  "I am only teasing you, mellen."-my dear.  "I
know you had been wanting to visit with Legolas these past many
years."  She looked to her friend, her eyes twinkling.  "I hope he did
not run afoul of your people as he has done in the past?"

"Arwen!" Elrohir protested.

Legolas and Aragorn laughed.  "You need not have worried," Legolas
said.  "He was a paragon of virtue - for the most part."  He smiled
wickedly when Elrohir colored somewhat.

Aragorn chuckled.  "I am glad we will not have to contend with the
wrath of your people then.  Gondor has not yet fully recovered from
our last conflict."  He looked at his foster brother.  "'Tis good of
you to hearken to my summons so swiftly though, in truth, you need not
have returned so soon."

"Your messenger told us that a matter of great importance had arisen,"
Elrohir said.

Aragorn nodded.  "We received a missive from the Haradrim asking us to
treat with them.  They are sending a delegation here for this purpose. 
They should be here within a fortnight.  I would like you to take part
in the talks."

Elrohir frowned.  "Then you mean to parley with them again?" he asked.

"If a new treaty with them will ensure lasting peace in our lands I
see no reason why we should not at least hear what they have to
offer."  He glanced at Legolas.  "I would have you present as well, my
friend.  You may provide some insight as to their motives."

Legolas shook his head.  "I do not think that wise, Aragorn.  I have
already been subjected to a greater amount of scrutiny than I find
comfortable."

"But you must be present, Legolas," Elrohir insisted.  "Your senses
are even keener than mine and all the more valuable for our needs." 
He looked to Aragorn.  "What if he did not remain at our side but
simply were there as an onlooker?  Surely no one would take it amiss
that the lord of Eryn Gael should have an interest in the
proceedings."

Aragorn nodded.  "An excellent suggestion, gwanur nîn."-my kinsman. 
"What say you, Legolas?"  At the Elf's reluctant assent, he smiled
with satisfaction.  "Now, go and refresh yourselves.  We expect you to
join us for dinner."

Dinner was not the casual affair Elrohir had hoped for.  Several of
Aragorn's counsellors and barons were present for the talk was about
the coming meeting with the Southrons.  He did not fail to notice the
surreptitious looks the men threw at Legolas though the prince kept
silent for the most part. 

Well into the meal, his annoyance with their demeanor got the better
of him and he defiantly reached under the table and grasped Legolas'
hand.  His friend did not visibly start but he sent a quizzical glance
in the twin's direction.  Elrohir did not return the glance but
stroked the Elf's palm with his thumb.  The gesture was not lost on
Legolas.  He knew it was Elrohir's way of showing him that he was not
alone among these rather hostile Men.  It reminded him how
affectionate and supportive Elrohir could be with those he loved.    

Much later, Aragorn and his queen walked together to their chamber. 
Dinner had lasted late into the night and he and Arwen were relieved
to finally get away. 

As they slowly proceeded down the passageway, Arwen said, "I would
like Legolas to join us for breakfast, Estel.  We have not really had
the chance to talk with him about more than politics and war."

Aragorn smiled.  "Aye, that is so.  Perhaps we can tell him now.  We
are near his chamber."

"But he may already be asleep, melethron"-lover-Arwen pointed out. 
"That he left dinner before we were done must mean that he was wearied
by his journey here."

"Legolas?  Wearied by a mere two-day ride?" Aragorn scoffed mildly. 
"More like he was tired of the scrutiny of the others.  Elrohir was
angered by that or did you not notice?"

"I noticed.  'Tis quite apparent why he excused himself so early as
well."

They stopped as the passageway branched off into two.  "I might as
well inform him now," Aragorn said. 

He walked to the fair Edhel's door.  He was about to open it when he
heard soft sounds from within.  For a moment he stared at the door in
some surprise.  Then a wolfish grin spread on his lips. 

He backed away and returned to his wife.  Arwen looked at him in
bemusement.  "That was swift," she said.  "What did he say?"

Aragorn chuckled.  "Our esteemed Elf is rather busy at the moment.  I
do not think he would have welcomed an intrusion just now."

Arwen stared at him then suddenly giggled.  "You are right, Estel, he
is not tired.  But he will undoubtedly be before long!"

They went on to their own chamber, laughing as they did.

Aragorn made his way to his friend's room early the following morning. 
He assumed that the archer would have dispensed with his night's
companion by then.  After all, no lady with any sense would stay the
entire night and run the risk of being seen by somebody who might
carry the tale to the wrong person - such as an irate father or a
jealous husband.  Therefore, he opened the door with confidence and
walked in.

He stopped at the threshold and stared, his mouth dropping open with
surprise.  His foster brother stared back at him.

It was not so much Elrohir's presence in Legolas'