Title: Mending a Heart and the Tie that Binds (16/?) Author: McKenna Espenshade Author's Email: mckennaespen@hotmail.com Pairing(s): Legolas/Elladan & Thranduil/Elrond Rating: NC17 Summary: Legolas and Elladan are together again after being separated for several months, but trouble lies ahead for the couple. Thranduil and Elrond rekindle their friendship and possibly more… Sequel to Mending a Heart. AU. Disclaimer: Tolkien, Tolkien, I'm back again, writing fics until the end. And I know I must give you your due, these characters belong to you. And even though I love the lot, and happily have changed the plot, I truly mean no disrespect, although I write both slash and het. To everyone heed what I mean, The plot is mine, the rest, Tolkien's. Story Setup: This story takes place several months (about six to be exact) from the time of Mending a Heart. Archive: Sure, but please ask. Special Notes: * indicate character thoughts. ~*~* indicates a division in the story or a time change. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~ Ch. 16: Enlightenment Hours had passed since Elrond, Cylene, the healer from Mirkwood, and Aaric, the healer from Lórien had entered the healing chamber. Those closest to the prince – his father, his brothers and his lover – waited impatiently outside the doorway. Friends of the prince, and others who had ties to any of the three, elvish, royal families also made their presence known by crowding into the corridor in hopeful support of their loved ones. Elladan wasn’t surprised to see Elrohir, but he was a bit taken aback when Arwen came and hugged him. The last time he had seen her, they had a fairly sizeable altercation. None of that seemed to matter now, though. The only thing of concern was Legolas and what their father, and the other healers discovered. Thranduil paced up and down the corridor, playing with his hands nervously. He didn’t utter one word to his other sons, who stayed huddled together, looking more forlorn than ever. The only ray of hope in the midst of all the depression was Tialise. She bounced about continuously, making sure to check on her beau, Dace, while also attending to others’ needs. Celeborn and Glorfindel stood near each other but did not speak. Instead, they seemed content to watch Thranduil’s agitated movements while they brooded in silence. No words were exchanged between Elladan and Haldir when the Lórien marchwarden entered the hallway. He simply took his place beside Elladan and waited quietly. Upon seeing the chief marchwarden, Celeborn made his way through the corridor and placed his hand on Haldir’s shoulder. Although, he did not know all the details of what had happened in the forest the day before, he was very glad that Haldir was unharmed. Word had spread throughout Rivendell about the prince’s strange illness. Scores of curious onlookers waited on the front lawns of the adjacent manors, hoping to learn more about Legolas’ condition. Some brazen, young elves attempted to enter the manor unnoticed. However, guards had been posted at every entranceway, at the request of King Thranduil. Thus, no one was allowed to enter the manor without his, Elrond, Celeborn or Glorfindel’s expressed permission. The king walked the length of the corridor and then stopped abruptly. He noticed a small chamber to his right and decided to enter. He wanted to be alone with his thoughts. The room was only partially furnished, having only a dresser against the westernmost wall, and a settee that sat directly in front of a window that looked to the east. Thranduil found himself looking out the window, trying to gain control of what little calmness he had left. The thought that he could lose his youngest son was unbearable. He simply could not comprehend the idea of a life without one of his sons. Thranduil tore himself from the window and began to pace the room. He was so conflicted. He struggled with feelings of complete sadness and the emotions of rage. *If there is anyone to blame for this, it was the foolish, man-elf, Elladan.* The king was convinced that Elladan had told Legolas not to reveal his pain. He wanted to throttle Elladan within an inch of his life and then throttle him again. Thranduil kicked the dresser as hard as he could, ignoring the fact that the sound reverberated loudly in the nearly empty chamber. No sooner had the king stilled the swaying dresser, Elladan appeared. “Is everything alright in here? I heard a loud noise.” “Perhaps it is the body of my son collapsing to the floor. Maybe the dreams have come to haunt him once again during the light of day,” the king said icily. Elladan stared at Thranduil in horror and in anger. “How could you be so crass? Legolas is your youngest son. Have you no decency?” The king set his jaw, and stalked toward Elladan, red-faced. “How could you know about the return of Legolas’ nightmares and not tell me?” he hissed. “He could have died. Do you not understand? I sent Legolas here so many months ago because of these dreams… and now it has all gone to ruin because you, for once, would not open your enlarged orifice!” Elladan’s mouth fell open for a moment, but being the quick-witted elf that he was, he was able to recover quickly from the king’s verbal attack and retaliate. “You scold me, when you were casting Legolas scornful and disapproving glances only hours ago? I know that the honor of Mirkwood and all its glory rests on the shoulders of your good name and the facades of perfection that your sons would try to portray. But could you not wait until he was unconscious before you probed him with your accusatory eyes?” Elladan regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, but the damage had already been done. “How dare you!” Thranduil exclaimed. “Who do you think you are … that you can address me in such a manner? You are nothing but a simpleton in the presence of a demigod. You should be on your knees before me… you half-human, half-witted fool! Do not forget that I alone hold the key to your happiness with my son. If I were to simply utter the words, your plans to marry him would be dismissed. I will not tolerate your cheek, child! It is bad enough that your refusal to listen to your sister about her friendship with me was ignored. And do you know what that cost me? Do you? I was hauled into this manor and interrogated… like a criminal by your father and grandfather. You nearly destroyed our friendship. Thank the Valar for Arwen, who was there to explain away your misgivings. And as far as my son is concerned… and the expression of ill that you described… it is not one of anger, but one of woe. For Legolas to keep such a thing from me… I can only assume that it was your influence on him. So, allow me to make myself perfectly clear… you may be the best swordsmaster in all three realms, but I can break you, boy. Do you understand me? Now, get on your knees and beg for my forgiveness, lest I leave this room and take your heart with me.” Elladan sank to his knees without hesitation and bowed his head. “I… I am sorry, Sire…” “That is the first honest thing that you have said recently,” Thranduil commented coolly. Elladan continued to grovel on the floor, completely ignoring the fact that Haldir, Dace, Makail, Orophin, Rúmil and Elrohir had heard the yelling and had entered the chamber. “Father?” Makail asked, concerned, looking from the king to Elladan. Thranduil glared at Makail and Dace and folded his arms across his chest. “The two of you should be on the floor before me, too. If you knew your brother was ill, you should have told me.” “But we did not know,” Dace said honestly. “You didn’t?” Thranduil asked, looking deep into Dace and Makail’s eyes for any sign of deceit. When he saw no lies in his sons’ eyes he turned to Elladan, who was still kneeling on the floor. “So, you acted alone in your treachery?” Haldir held his breath. He had also known about the prince’s illness but had never come forward. Until this very moment, the marchwarden had considered this to be one of the best days of his life. He had finally gotten to be alone with Glorfindel, but the pleasant memories were about to be replaced with King Thranduil’s wrath. “Aye, I am the only one who knew about Legolas’ condition,” Elladan said. Haldir’s mouth fell open in disbelief. He was surprised that Elladan would lie for him, especially because the two of them spent more time arguing than agreeing. Still, he would not allow Elladan to suffer alone. Thranduil glared at Elladan. “Should my son die, I hope you understand that his blood will be on your hands.” “It will not be on his hands alone,” Haldir heard himself say. The marchwarden stepped forward and bowed deeply. “Sire, I, too, knew about Legolas’ dreams. He did not confide in me, I simply discovered him in a bad way one night after what seemed to be a nightmare. He also… saved my life…” Thranduil sighed but did not stop Haldir from speaking. He wanted to hear the marchwarden’s account of yesterday’s events. “He had… what appeared to be a waking dream… just after the forms competition,” Haldir explained. I was standing under an enormous tree when one of the limbs was struck by lightening. It crashed to the ground where I had been standing… only… Legolas pushed me out of the way moments before the limb fell. I owe him my life, Sire.” Haldir got on his knees beside Elladan. “I should be punished, too.” Elladan was shocked by Haldir’s words and actions, as the two of them were not exactly friends. He was grateful, however, not to have to endure the king’s wrath single-handedly. He smiled in appreciation at Haldir but the marchwarden seemed to have more to say. “Sire, you should also know that Elladan told Legolas to speak to you about his fading condition,” Haldir continued. “The prince refused, believing that you would see his illness as weakness and send him back to Mirkwood. The only reason Legolas came forth was when Elladan swore to tell you if he did not.” Thranduil could feel his anger fading. It was replaced with hurt and guilt. He sighed and shook his head. He did not know Haldir well but knew that the chief marchwarden of Lórien would not lie to him. “Elladan?” “Aye, Sire?” “Legolas… he… he did not want to tell me?” “Nay,” Elladan said quietly. “And, if he had refused to come forth… would you have told me?” “Aye, Sire,” Elladan responded sincerely. Thranduil nodded slowly. He thought that Elladan was a fool, but he knew the dark-haired warrior loved Legolas and would never lie about something so serious. “You may stand,” he said to the kneeling warriors. Elladan and Haldir rose to their feet just as Elrond entered the room. “Thranduil?” “Aye?” the king responded anxiously. “Legolas… is he alright? What… what has happened to him?” “I would like to speak to you about the prince’s condition privately, please,” Elrond said. “May Makail and Dace accompany me as well?” Thranduil asked. “You may include anyone you wish,” Elrond said. “Makail… Dace… I… I would like you to join me,” Thranduil stammered, suddenly feeling the weight of his guilt. “It is not an order,” the king added quickly, “it is only a request.” “Of course we will come,” Makail said while Dace nodded. Elladan hung his head when the king and his two sons started to leave the chamber until he heard his name being called. “Elladan?” “Aye?” “Would you like to join us?” Thranduil asked. “Very much,” Elladan said. “Come,” Thranduil said. Elladan stared into the king’s eyes for only a moment before they headed out of the chamber and walked hurriedly toward the healing room. He could have sworn that he saw a glint of approval and maybe even a morsel of respect embedded in the king’s eyes. When they entered the chamber Legolas was not in the room. “We took the prince to the adjacent resting room,” Elrond said, answering the question before it was voiced. “Aaric and Cylene are in the room with him just in case he has another troubling dream. “What… what ails my youngest son?” Thranduil asked. “Please do not keep us in suspense any longer.” “Very well,” Elrond said. “Legolas is possessed.” “Possessed?” Thranduil asked in shock. Elladan, Dace and Makail exchanged alarmed glances. “Aye,” Elrond said. “What do you mean he is possessed?” Thranduil asked. “An elf cannot be possessed; it is a human affliction.” “And yet… he is possessed,” Elrond said slowly. “We could not determine who, what, when, where or why… but something has a hold on the prince. From our examination, we determined that a powerful spell was cast on Legolas. Whoever did this to him selected him specifically… meaning that this was no accident. Legolas was chosen to be possessed.” “Why?” Thranduil asked. “Because Legolas is unique,” Elrond explained. “His ability to communicate with animals is much stronger than that of a normal elf. He is gifted. Whoever or whatever has possessed him knew about Legolas’ ability. Thus, it attached itself – its essence – to Legolas’ power, which is why it has increased… as well as his bad dreams.” “Can you remove the spell?” Thranduil asked. “Nay,” Elrond said. “This magic is far beyond any of our powers. And in all honesty, we are fearful of even attempting to remove the spell, as it could kill Legolas. The only one who may be able to assist us is Galadriel. Like Legolas, she is gifted. She is also very old, very powerful and very wise; she will know what to do.” “So… you want to summon her?” Thranduil asked. “Aye,” Elrond responded, nodding. “With your permission, Celeborn and I will assemble a small band of warriors to set out for Lórien. Their journey to and from the Golden Realm will be long… it may be at least a month before they return to Rivendell. I believe, however, that this will be the best way.” Thranduil nodded. “Very well, you have my permission to send for her.” The king paused before speaking again. “Elrond… can this… this entity see through Legolas’ eyes? That is to say, can the being that possessed him hear what we say and see what we do?” “Nay,” Elrond said. “Whatever possessed Legolas seems to be trying to communicate with him through his unique ability. Of course, our biggest concern right now is that Legolas must learn how to control the new powers he has acquired. If not, I fear his suffering will only increase over time.” Dace gasped audibly and Makail clutched his chest in alarm. Elladan wrung his hands nervously partly from concern about Legolas and because a small voice in the back of his mind reminded him about the events that had occurred the previous summer and the orc’s warning. “We can help Legolas to gain control of his visions and we can try to prevent his nightmares,” Elrond said with confidence. “Herbs can be used to restore the mind and to facilitate dreamless nights to a certain extent but the entity will need to be removed from Legolas eventually.” “What will happen if the entity cannot be removed?” Thranduil asked. “What will happen if Lady Galadriel cannot help my son?” “He will die,” Elrond said gravely. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~ The hours passed slowly in the resting chamber, but no one spoke as the prince’s family members and Elladan waited patiently for Legolas to awaken. Elladan looked around the small room and shuddered. It seemed like a cell with too many people crammed inside. His mind wandered to a time long past when he and Elrohir were mere boys and had been playing in one of the courtyards. In jest, Elrohir shoved him roughly and he fell to the ground and landed headfirst onto a large rock. He remembered his father carrying him to the healing chamber and his mother wiping away his tears. His father had let him sleep in the resting room, fearing that he would try to exact a playful revenge on Elrohir, which he would have, of course. So, he slept in this very room, surrounded by his mother’s love. She teased him mercilessly, which he loved; she always knew how to make him smile – how to comfort him. Now, looking around the room, it seemed so unfamiliar, so dark and cold. The healing room had four resting rooms, which were usually used for severely injured patients. Elladan had always thought of these chambers as being comfy, even though they were sparse. They only had the bare essentials: a bed with nightstands on each side, a small table at the foot of the bed and four small but comfortable chairs. Each room had a window so that the wounded party could enjoy a cool evening’s breeze or the gentle caress of the morning sun. Elladan’s mind took him to another place. He remembered when he and Elrohir had brought their mother home from the orc dens. He remembered staying with her in one of the resting room that was in the farthest corner of the healing chamber – a place that he, nor any others in his family had ever ventured since Celebrían’s departure. He remembered watching her agony. Her physical pain paled to that of her mental and emotional state, however. Her terror filled eyes and violent nightmares still haunted Elladan. He had never seen his mother cry… not until after what the orcs had done to her. The sound of her laughter had been forever replaced with the sound of her crying. And now this… the same thing was happening to Legolas – to another one he loved. He failed his mother, but he would not fail again. The young prince stirred suddenly and looked around the room. “Father?” he said weakly. “Aye, Legolas, I am here,” Thranduil rushed to his youngest son’s side and placed his hand on Legolas’ shoulder affectionately. Makail poured some water in a cup and handed it to his father. Thranduil helped Legolas to take a drink before placing the cup on the nearby nightstand. “Legolas… Legolas… how are you feeling?” “I am fine, Father,” the prince responded, smiling faintly. Suddenly, Elladan felt as though he was intruding. Legolas needed to be alone with his family, now. The two of them could talk later. Quietly, he exited the resting room and made himself comfortable in the healing chamber. Again, time crept by. Elladan was left alone with his thoughts – his fears. He knew that he and Elrohir were responsible for this and he knew he had to stop it. “Elladan?” Elladan met the king’s eyes, taken aback by his sudden appearance. He tried to regain his composure, though, by trying to smile away the worry in his heart. “Aye, Sire.” “Legolas is asking for you,” Thranduil said. “Oh,” Elladan mumbled absently. “Thank-you for allowing Makail, Dace and me some time alone with Legolas. But it is your turn, now.” “Thank-you, Sire,” Elladan said, bowing politely. Thranduil nodded. “Tell Legolas that we will return a bit later.” “I will.” Thranduil nodded his head once again and ushered his sons out of the room. Elladan entered the resting chamber and was surprised to see a weak but alert prince sitting up in bed. “Elladan,” Legolas said slowly. Elladan sat on the bed, as close to the prince as possible and embraced him. “I have been so worried.” Legolas did not return the embrace. Instead, he sat stiffly, like a statue. Elladan released the prince and stared at his saddened face. “What’s wrong?” Legolas hesitated before answering Elladan’s question, as though he was trying to formulate the words carefully in his mind before speaking. “Have you spoken to your father or any of the other healers about my condition?” “Aye.” “So… you know, then… about… about my illness?” “I do.” Legolas nodded slowly and stroked Elladan’s cheek gently. He let his hand slide downward slowly until his fingers reached the collar of Elladan’s undertunic. He tugged lightly at the necklace he had given to his lover so many months before and fingered the lovely blue stone that acted as the seal to their engagement. “Elladan…” the prince began softly, “I… I am not certain that we should get married.” “What?” Elladan asked, searching the prince’s eyes. “I… I could die,” Legolas stammered. “I cannot do that to you or your family. I cannot allow your heart to be so intertwined with mine when the shadow of death threatens to take me. I love you too much to do that to you. It would be better if you just tried to forget me.” The prince looked down at the bedcovers, awaiting the sting of Elladan’s rejection. Elladan cupped the prince’s chin, lifting it gently. “Do you think my love so shallow that I could abandon you at the first sight of difficulty? I think not, fair prince. And as for my heart… it is already so ensnared with yours that even a severance of our promise to be wed would not quiet the beating of my heart when you are near. You are asking me to do the impossible… you are acting as though removing this necklace will somehow erase my memory of you… of my love for you. This,” Elladan continued as he touched the necklace, “is only a symbol of our promise to one another. But with or without this emblem… my love will hold ever on. I could never stop loving you, Legolas… not even at your request. My heart, soul and body are yours forever. I will cherish you until the end of time. And should such a day come… that you would pass from this earth… and that my heart would somehow survive the blow, I will never, ever love again. My heart will be akin to the sky above… it will go on forever, untouched for all eternity.” Tears rolled down Legolas’ face. He collapsed into Elladan’s arms and wept until he reached a new level of weakness. Mental and physical fatigue wrung him like a wet cloth, draining all emotion from his being. He felt foolish for behaving this way, for weeping like a child, but the events of late were more than he thought he could handle. He knew he was going to die. Through his tears he wondered what would become of his father and brothers when he was taken from this world. What would happen to Elladan? He felt as though his mind was breaking and so was the world around him. His being was riddled with rage and sorrow at the same time. He hated himself and he hated his gift. He wanted to reach into his being and destroy the entity that had done this to him… to the ones he loved… the ones who would have to watch him die. The prince pushed Elladan away. He stood uneasily and kicked one of the nightstands over. He threw himself against the wall as hard as he could, deciding that he would kill the thing inside him, even if he would die in the process. Legolas tore at his clothes but could do no more as his body gave way to his utter exhaustion. He sunk to the floor sobbing and trembling. Elladan sat beside the prince and pulled him close. He heard Thranduil enter the room but did not care. His concern was Legolas now and he decided then and there that Thranduil’s opinion of him no longer mattered. He would love Legolas and take care of him in his own way, whether the King of Mirkwood approved or not. Thranduil had never seen anything quite like his son, and the sight before him was frightening. The king had always considered Legolas to be one of his stronger sons, both mentally and physically. Joren, the crown prince, always possessed the most clarity of mind and the greatest leadership skills. But Legolas was elegant, intelligent and a highly skilled warrior. He always remained poised in battle, was slow to show signs of weakness, and had a shrewd ability to judge the character of everyone he met. The king did not think that Legolas’ current state made him weak. On the contrary, the king believed that the young prince’s ailment must be quite severe for him to behave in such a way. Thranduil had a great deal of respect for Legolas, and although he had questioned Legolas’ most current choice of a bed-partner, the king could now see why his youngest son wanted to be with Elladan. Despite the fool-elf’s immature conduct, he clearly possessed another side. Legolas was so weak and forlorn that he did not realize his father had entered the resting chamber. And Elladan was sure to ignore the king’s presence. He knew how proud Legolas was and also knew that the prince would behave differently if he knew his father was near. Elladan believed that a farce on Legolas’ part would only delay and possibly worsen his inevitable breakdown. Elladan knew that Legolas would have to come to terms with all that had happened so he could fight it and he was determined to help him any way he could. Elladan knew what he had to do; he knew this wasn’t really Legolas’ fight but his, and he would sacrifice his own life before he would let the events of the summer claim the one who mattered most to him. He noticed the bruises on the prince’s arms and handsome face and had to still the rage in his heart. He felt ill when he thought about Legolas’ invisible attacker and made a silent promise to make the one who hurt his lover pay ever so dearly. “I can’t…” Legolas said between sobs. “I… I… can’t…” “Shh…” Elladan said, cradling the prince in his arms. “Don’t think about anything. Just listen to the sound of my voice. Alright, Greenleaf?” “Al… alright.” Elladan began to sing. His voice was as smooth as marble and as rich as the sweet dessert cream made by the Lórien elves. He sang a song that his mother had taught him many years ago. The melody spoke of the heavens and how every star mirrored a fragment of his love. Elladan sung and sung until Legolas’ tears ceased and his head slumped in fatigue against the Rivendell warrior’s chest. Thranduil watched silently as Elladan scooped Legolas’ up in his arms and laid him on the bed. Carefully, he pulled the blankets up over the prince’s body. The king quietly righted the overturned nightstand and watched as Elladan tucked his son in the same fashion Areen used to when Legolas was a child. Thranduil met Elladan’s eyes and spoke in a soft voice. “You have endured much on your own, haven’t you?” Elladan nodded slowly. “I misjudged you, Elladan. You are stronger than I thought.” “Thank you, Sire.” “You have been here all day without time to rest or eat. Are you hungry?” “Aye,” Elladan admitted. “Go and tend to your needs. I will watch Legolas now.” Elladan nodded numbly, feeling as though he had been dismissed. “As soon as you have eaten and had some time to yourself, return to this room,” Thranduil offered politely. “I will take my leave then.” “You… you are going to leave?” Elladan asked, bewildered. “Aye,” Thranduil said. “You are a better caregiver than I in this instance. I trust you with the life of my son. It is clear to me now that you love him… deeply. And while I am very concerned for Legolas, I also fear for my other sons. They are quite distressed about all of this and they need me, too. I will visit Legolas everyday, of course, but if you could stay with him, I would be indebted to you.” “I will stay with Legolas as you have requested but you owe me nothing. Your son’s hand in marriage outweighs anything that anyone could ever give to me.” Thranduil smiled. “Very well. I will care for Legolas in your absence.” “I will return soon.” Thranduil nodded and watched as Elladan exited the room. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~ Elladan made his way out of his father’s healing chamber and down the long corridor. He ignored any curious stares from nosy or concerned onlookers by rushing to his bedchamber. He was not surprised to find Elrohir waiting for him. “How is Legolas?” “Not well,” Elladan said. He avoided his twin’s eyes and averted his attention to a small cart that bore a basket of fresh bread and several covered trays. Elladan removed one of the lids and ate a small piece of sliced, smoked meat before uncovering a platter filled with cheese and another overflowing with fruit and vegetables. Elladan busied himself by eating, never looking in his brother’s eyes. “Tell me, Elladan,” Elrohir said from where he was sitting. “Tell me what you are thinking.” “I do not know what you mean,” Elladan lied. “Ha!” Elrohir exclaimed. “I know you better than anyone. I can see right through your falsehoods.” Elladan shrugged in mock indifference but Elrohir could sense his brother’s despair. He softened his tone before addressing his brother again. “I spoke with Dace a bit earlier. He told me about Legolas’ condition.” Elladan looked at Elrohir for a moment before continuing to eat. “Elladan… Elladan… I am so sorry. What can I do to help you through this?” “You can accompany me to Gaidon once Legolas is feeling better,” Elladan said simply. “What? Why?” “Because I am going to find the one responsible for my Greenleaf’s suffering and kill him. The men we met in Gaidon… they were the Northern Dúnedain. I have heard that they sometimes track and kill orcs. Perhaps they will know where we can start our search. If not, we can set out on our own. That orc… the one that threatened me… he is the one I want to find.” Elrohir hesitated before speaking. “I do not think what happened last summer has anything to do with Legolas’ current condition. It is a coincidence.” “It is not!” Elladan shouted, knocking one of the lids onto the floor. “If Legolas dies then I killed him and that orc has won. I do not know how he did it, but he told the truth. He swore to kill me and he will do it by killing my prince. I will not lose another to him! Do you understand me! I will not let someone else I love die because of him!” “Elladan,” Elrohir said in a gentle voice, “please be calm.” “I will not!” Elladan screamed. “When I find that orc… and I will know him in an instant… I will tear his heart out with my bear hands. I promise that he will suffer for all he has done.” “Elladan,” Elrohir said firmly, “I will not let you do this. Pursuing this is suicide.” “Then I will die defending the one I love,” Elladan said, stalking out of the room. Elrohir stared at the floor in defeat before realizing that there was someone who may be able to help him. With his confidence suddenly restored, he set out in pursuit of his former fiancé, Ellaria. Although her rejection was very likely, aside from Elladan, Ellaria was the only one who knew every detail of the summer’s events. And even though her knowledge of these events was responsible for their separation, she was Elrohir’s only hope. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~ Legolas stirred and sat up abruptly, looking around the small chamber for Elladan. “Legolas?” Thranduil said, concerned by his son’s sudden actions. Legolas flinched, startled, he had not expected to see his father. “Oh… hello, Father,” he stammered. “I… I was looking for Elladan.” “He will return soon. He just went to get something to eat,” Thranduil said reassuringly. “Oh…” Legolas said, sitting up in the bed and leaning back against his pillows and staring at the ceiling. A bout of silence passed between father and son – each of them feeling more than a bit uncomfortable for differing reasons. At long last, Legolas broke the silence. “I… I am sorry for all of the embarrassment I have caused you, Father. I never meant to bring shame upon you, my family… or our realm. I saw the disapproval and disappointment in your eyes earlier. So… so… I… I shall return to Mirkwood as soon as I am able to…” “Say nothing more,” Thranduil said, interrupting the prince. “Legolas… Legolas, the look you saw on my face was not one of disapproval or disappointment in you. I was and am disappointed with myself.” Thranduil looked down at his hands for a moment before meeting Legolas’ eyes. “Being here in Rivendell has been… well… humbling for me.” Legolas’ eyes momentarily widened in curiosity. He wondered what his father’s words meant. “I have had a great deal of time to myself and have been able to think about things,” Thranduil continued. “I have always been hard on you… on all of my sons. But I have done so for a reason. I have wanted to make you strong. And, truth be told, I believe that your mother and I have done a fine job. All four of you have made me very proud. But… but my pride means nothing if you will not tell me when you are ill. I know that I am slow to share my feelings with you… but…” Legolas smiled sincerely. He could see the love within his father’s eyes. “I know.” “I would never punish you for this… I would never send you away for something that you cannot control. You have not shamed me. I only wish you would have told me…” “I am sorry, Father,” Legolas said. “I did not want to fail you by appearing weak to our competition adversaries.” “Do not concern yourself with that now,” Thranduil said gently. “So, when will the archery competition take place?” Legolas asked, changing the subject. “Will it still be held in a couple of days?” “Nay,” Thranduil responded. “The competition has been postponed. So much has happened recently… I think everyone needs to rest. The archery competition will take place five days from now. Perhaps you will feel well enough to watch it by then.” *Watch it?* Legolas started to protest, but remained silent. Before the conversation could continue further, Elrond entered the room. “Good evening.” “Good evening,” Legolas and Thranduil chorused. Thranduil felt his heart catch in his chest upon seeing Elrond but kept his composure. “How are you feeling?” Elrond asked, looking at the prince’s bruised and pallid face skeptically. “I feel a bit weak… and very, very tired,” Legolas admitted. Elrond nodded. “Extreme fatigue is a good sign. It means the herbs are working to restore your vitality but you must rest, Legolas. You do not have to fear having fell dreams… the herbs that have been administered to you are very potent. When you sleep, you will not dream. This remedy is short-term, however, as dreams are the foundation of reality… they are necessary. On the other hand, we must gain control of your visions. Aaric, the healer from Lórien, knows a great deal about intuitive gifts such as your own and Galadriel’s. As such, he has concocted a potion that should calm the intensity of your visions.” Elrond presented a small, glass bottle to Legolas. The container was filled with a transparent, purple liquid and had a tiny cork in it. “Drink a small amount of this once a day,” Elrond instructed. “Go ahead,” he encouraged, “take a small sip now.” The prince obeyed Elrond by drinking a small amount of the remedy. He braced himself just in case the brew was foul tasting, but was pleasantly surprised by the delicate sweetness of the medicine. “Its effects should be immediate. According to Aaric, this will make your waking dreams… your visions less intense. It will not prevent them, however. He also warned that your visions may change… I am not sure how, exactly… I am sorry to be relaying Aaric’s instructions to you… and that he is not here himself to speak to you. He was unable to come speak to you himself because a young warrior from Lórien was injured when practicing for the upcoming archery competition.” Legolas smirked inwardly. *Amateur.* “Are you hungry? Would you like something from the kitchen?” Elrond asked. “Nay,” Legolas said. “I am just tired.” “Very well. I will leave you to rest. If you have any questions or need anything, feel free to summon me at once,” Elrond said warmly. The Lord of Rivendell turned to Thranduil and spoke with hesitation. “Uh… Thranduil… are you hungry? I… I could… bring you something.” “Nay,” Thranduil said coolly. “I am fine.” “Alright,” Elrond said, trying to ignore the king’s icy response. “Celeborn and I have assembled a team of warriors to set out for Lothlórien at daybreak. We have asked them to bring Galadriel as quickly as possible.” “Thank you,” Thranduil said, maintaining his distant manner. “I, too, have amassed a small group of warriors. They will set out at first light for Mirkwood. I want Joren to know about all that has happened here… he would want to know…” Thranduil broke off suddenly. “Thranduil,” Elrond said gently, “if there is anything I can do…” “There isn’t,” the king said flatly. “You have done enough.” Legolas watched this verbal exchange in fascination. He could feel the tension between his father and Elrond and wondered what had caused the strife. He wondered if Elrond had believed the rumors about his father and Arwen – if that could have caused a rift in their friendship, but Legolas quickly dismissed the notion as absurdity. He felt a sudden wave a fatigue and felt his head roll to the side unintentionally. “Legolas!” Thranduil said, rising to his feet and rushing to his son’s side. “Legolas, are you alright?” “Aye,” Legolas slurred. “I… I… am just so weary, Father. I… I… need to rest, now.” Elrond met Thranduil’s concerned eyes and he nodded enthusiastically, silently reassuring Thranduil that the prince should sleep. “I will take my leave, now. Legolas, if you need anything…” “Al… alright…” Legolas replied groggily. Elrond bowed and left the room. Thranduil remained standing next to his son for a moment. He found himself smiling when he observed the contours of Legolas’ face and how much he looked like his mother. He noticed that Legolas was already sleeping and felt himself relax a little. The young prince looked so peaceful that Thranduil couldn’t help but to touch his face. The prince stirred and met his father’s concerned eyes. He was shocked to see his father still standing next to him. “Do I look that bad?” the prince asked, smiling faintly. “Aye,” Thranduil replied honestly. Despite his kingly stature and royal station his eyes did not lie. Legolas could see the despair deep within his father’s orbs. And although the king usually frowned upon physical affection, the prince decided to forgo the unspoken rule and touch his father. He grasped his father’s left hand and squeezed it reassuringly. “No matter what happens… no matter what… everything will be fine. I need you to promise that you will make sure that everything and everyone is fine…” “I swear it,” Thranduil said sincerely. He didn’t pull away from Legolas’ touch. Instead, he placed his right hand on top of their already interlocking hands. Legolas felt something strange suddenly – a tickling sensation inside of his head. Without warning he saw a myriad of pictures flash through his mind. Hundreds of images and sounds flooded his brain and then they were gone. “Legolas?” Thranduil asked, concerned. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing,” Legolas lied. “I just want to sleep, now.” “Very well,” Thranduil said. He released Legolas’ hand and helped make him comfortable. “I will stay until Elladan returns. Then, I will go attend to your brothers. I promise, though, that I will be by your side as much as I can.” “Thank you, Father.” Legolas watched as his father took a seat near the foot of the bed and then tried to collect his thoughts. Somehow, he knew what had just happened; he had a vision. He wondered if touching his father triggered it. At any rate, he knew much more than he wanted to – his father was in love with Elrond. --- TBC… Title: Mending a Heart and the Tie that Binds (17/?) Author: McKenna Espenshade Author's Email: mckennaespen@hotmail.com Pairing(s): Legolas/Elladan & Thranduil/Elrond Rating: NC17 Summary: Legolas and Elladan are together again after being separated for several months, but trouble lies ahead for the couple. Thranduil and Elrond rekindle their friendship and possibly more… Sequel to Mending a Heart. AU. Disclaimer: Tolkien, Tolkien, I'm back again, writing fics until the end. And I know I must give you your due, these characters belong to you. And even though I love the lot, and happily have changed the plot, I truly mean no disrespect, although I write both slash and het. To everyone heed what I mean, The plot is mine, the rest, Tolkien's. Story Setup: This story takes place several months (about six to be exact) from the time of Mending a Heart. Archive: Sure, but please ask. Special Notes: * indicate character thoughts. ~*~* indicates a division in the story or a time change. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~ Chapter 17: The Truth Revealed Elrohir raced to Ellaria’s home and found himself standing before her parent’s intimidating door. For some reason, it seemed to loom in front of him, with its russet complexion and large knocker. He felt a wave of sadness when he remembered coming to Ellaria’s home everyday. Now, things were different. Since the events of last summer, Ellaria had hardly spoken to him. When he did see her, the pain of her rejection cut like the blade of a sword. He assumed the only reason his heart hadn’t broken into a million pieces when their relationship came to an end was because he was so determined to win her back. So far, all attempts had failed, but Elrohir hoped that Ellaria’s promise indicated that there was still a ray of hope. After the events of the summer, and Elrohir’s admission of involvement in the scandal, Ellaria told Elrohir that she would not marry him. However, upon his request, Ellaria promised not to reveal their separation until he had a chance to speak to his father and Arwen. Although the two were rarely seen together anymore, Elrohir was using the competition as an excuse for their lack of public appearances – and so far, everyone seemed to believe it. When he was in Lórien, however, he knew that his grandmother was suspicious, but he could not tell anyone because of the questions that would arise and the truth that could be unearthed. And he wasn’t afraid of what the truth would do to him as much as what it would do to Elladan. The door swung open suddenly and Ellaria’s father, Duke Meris, stood looking dumbfounded at Elrohir. “Elrohir, what are you doing here?” Duke Meris asked in his typical jovial voice. “Uh… I… I just wanted to stop by and speak to Ellaria,” Elrohir stammered. “That is… if it is alright with you.” “Of course!” Duke Meris said, beaming. “You don’t even have to ask, Elrohir. After all, you are practically family.” Elrohir forced a toothy grin as the duke ushered him through the doorway. “Oh, hello, Elrohir,” Ellaria’s mother, Duchess Aurel, said warmly. “It is so good to see you.” “It is good to see you as well.” “I assume that you are here to see Ellaria?” “Aye.” “Oh good,” Duchess Aurel said, smiling. “Perhaps your visit will lift her spirits. She has been so forlorn since last summer. I assume it is because you have been so busy with the competition and all.” “Uh… yes… the competition,” Elrohir said as he inwardly reprimanded himself for behaving so suspiciously. “Well I know I speak for both of us when I say that we are glad you are here,” Duke Meris said. “Ellaria will be very happy to see you.” Elrohir forced another smile. “I believe that Ellaria is in the garden,” Duchess Aurel said. “Feel free to go and look for her. “Thank you.” Elrohir bowed leaving Ellaria’s grinning parents behind. He took the shortest route to the garden, which was through the living room, down a short corridor and into the parlor. There was a doorway that exited out of the parlor and directly into the garden. Elrohir, thankful for the moon-illuminated night, traversed the garden with ease. He and Ellaria had spent many days amongst the plentiful flowers and lush foliage and many nights with their bodies intertwined beneath the abundant trees. Although his mind took him on a journey of his euphoric courtship with Ellaria, he walked with purpose. He knew where she was. He knew that she would be sitting under the large canopy of trees at the south border of the garden. He could feel her presence as he rounded a large bush and he smiled to himself. He loved her. “Elrohir…” Ellaria said in a voice that indicated surprise and annoyance, “what are you doing here?” “I need to speak with you about a pressing matter.” “Oh, and what matter is that?” Ellaria asked, her voice changing from annoyance to ice. “I need to talk to you about what happened last summer… I need to…” “I do not want to hear any more of your excuses, Elrohir,” Ellaria snapped. “We discussed all there is to discuss long ago. Why must you dredge up the past?” Elrohir could see the anger in Ellaria’s eyes but he couldn’t help but smile. Her skin was as smooth as porcelain, her eyes as green as emeralds and her hair was nearly as dark as the night sky. She pursed her lips angrily. “Why are you staring at me?” “Because you have grown even lovelier since I saw you last.” Ellaria scoffed. “Elrohir, if your intention is to come here and flatter me endlessly in the hope that you can undo your misdeeds and win back my heart, you are wasting your time. Go back from whence you came, I have things to do.” Elrohir felt his smile fade. “I am not here to win you back. I am here to discuss…” “And when are you going to tell your family that we are not going to be wed?” Ellaria asked, interrupting Elrohir. “I no longer wish to live in the midst of this façade.” “Ellaria…” Elrohir said, clutching both of her hands in his. Ellaria was stunned by his actions. She started to pull away from him but choose not to when she looked into the depths of his eyes. Concern and fear mingled with sadness seemed to trudge slowly across his orbs. It finally occurred to her that whatever he wanted was serious. “Aye, Elrohir.” “Ellaria… I am not here because of us,” Elrohir began slowly. “I am here on behalf of Elladan and Legolas.” “Oh,” Ellaria said, feeling her annoyance wane. “What about them? Has Legolas discovered Elladan’s summer treachery?” “Nay,” Elrohir responded. “Have your heard about what happened to the prince… about his illness?” “Aye,” Ellaria said, “Arwen told me.” “Elladan is convinced that Legolas’ condition is the result of the events that occurred last summer,” Elrohir explained. “He is set on finding the one he believes is responsible and destroying him.” Ellaria frowned. “I… I am afraid I do not understand. What does all of this have to do with me?” “You are the only one who knows about the events of last summer… you are the only one I can turn to.” “What would you have me do?” Ellaria asked in disbelief. “I cannot stop Elladan.” “Nay, but you can talk to him,” Elrohir said reassuringly. “He likes and respects you. He may listen to what you have to say.” “What will happen if my words offer him no comfort?” “Then I fear what will become of my twin.” ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~ After leaving Elrohir, Elladan walked to the easternmost garden. Pacing angrily, he began to formulate a plan. He had to find the one responsible for hurting Legolas – the one who had taken possession of the prince. But how? The orc he believed to be responsible could be anywhere in Middle- earth; tracking him would be almost impossible. He could return to the orc dens near Somerset but orcs could be quite nomadic at times; the journey could prove fruitless. Still, he had to try. He sat on a bench in the garden and remembered the orc’s threats from the previous summer. Then, he remembered Legolas’ pain. Guilt wrenched his heart. He decided then and there that he would kill the orc if it was the last thing he ever did. He looked up at the moon and closed his eyes. He allowed the silvery light to bathe his face. Silently, he asked the Valar to lead him to his greatest enemy. Suddenly, his eyes flew open when he felt someone approaching. Then, he heard voices. He looked at the garden entranceway and saw Ellaria walking toward him. “Ellaria,” Elladan said, surprised. “What are you doing here?” “I came here to speak with you.” “You came here to speak with me?” Elladan asked in disbelief. “Aye. May I sit next to you?” “Of course,” Elladan replied, making room on the bench for Ellaria. Elladan stared at Ellaria curiously. “You look at me as though we have never had a conversation before,” Ellaria began playfully. Elladan smiled faintly. “It’s just… well we haven’t spoken since… since you and Elrohir…” “I know,” Ellaria admitted. “Things have been… awkward, haven’t they?” “Aye,” Elladan replied, nodding slowly. “So… you wanted to speak with me?” “Yes… I… I wanted to speak with you about…” “Elrohir sent you here, didn’t he?” Elladan asked, interrupting Ellaria. “Aye.” “I thought I heard his voice just before you entered the garden.” “He told me about your plans… that you want to go on another orc hunt.” Elladan exhaled audibly and shifted in his seat. “Ellaria, you could never understand.” “Understand what? That you would throw away your entire life for the thrill of the kill?” Ellaria asked blatantly. “What would Legolas say if he knew about your plans? I know you haven’t told him about your escapade last summer. Does he know about Henna? Does he know that you and Elrohir slaughtered at least a hundred orcs? Does he know that you could have died and that you are planning to do it again? And for what? For vengeance. Selfish vengeance. You and Elrohir would ride against the orcs… put yourselves in harms way… just to avenge your mother and Henna. You would do this and leave me and Legolas here to die from a broken heart when you never return? If your prince knew about this he would act just as I have. He would not tolerate it.” The silence after Ellaria’s speech was so thick with tension it could be cut with a knife. She knew her words had been a bit harsh, but she wanted to speak her mind, and maybe prevent the twins from getting killed. Elladan rose to his feet, moving away from Ellaria before turning to face her. When he spoke, there was no anger in his voice. Instead, his tone was that of someone who was deeply wounded. “Have you ever been in battle, Ellaria? Have you ever seen the broken bodies of your comrades?” “Nay.” “I have,” Elladan said softly. “Your mother… I assume you love her.” “Of course, I do not know what I would do without her,” Ellaria said. “I felt the same way about my mother, too,” Elladan said, his voice heavy with emotion. “But I have no choice, now… You do not know what it was like… when Elrohir and I found her. Those orcs… those beasts… they tortured her… for days… weeks… They took pleasure in her pleas of anguish; they laughed when she writhed in pain,” Elladan’s voice broke and he sighed, trying to calm his emotions. “When we found her… she was broken… in body and in spirit. She had been badly beaten… repeatedly. You see, when orcs capture elves they only do enough harm to main… to disfigure.” Elladan paused once more. “They allow the elf to heal somewhat after torturing them, before they inflict more wounds. It is a slow and horrible process, but it is one in which they are quite proud. Mind you, their aim is not always the conversion of an elf into an orc. Sometimes, the sheer joy of inflicting the most pain possible – over a long period of time is more entertaining.” “Elladan…” Ellaria protested. “Nay,” Elladan said. “I want you to hear this. Female elves, like you and Arwen, are often protected from the brutality of which I speak. Then, you pass judgment about things you do not understand. Only true warriors, male or female, know about the effects of war. You should speak to Zera one day…. I have fought by her side many times. She could tell you about the horrors of battle. I shall not spare you of details this night, Ellaria. You need to hear the truth.” Ellaria nodded, trying to mentally prepare herself for what she might hear. Elladan took another deep breath before speaking. “When Elrohir and I found our mother, she was almost naked. The lashes across her back were fresh and her skin was ripped open. She had bite marks on her thighs and chunks of her hair was missing; it had been ripped out.” Ellaria shuddered but did not utter a word. “Her face was bruised… almost beyond recognition…She had burn marks on her chest and arms… and… and some of her fingernails had been peeled off... And when they grew tired of her, they shot her with a poison arrow and left her to die.” Elladan stopped speaking abruptly. He hung his head and shook his head slowly at the terrible memories. “She was my mother… and I couldn’t save her.” “But Elladan,” Ellaria said gently, “your mother is still alive. You and Elrohir did save her.” Elladan smiled bitterly. “We only saved her body. My mother… she died in the orc dens… just like Henna. I thought I had overcome what happened to my mother, but I was wrong. My hatred for orcs is deep within me… last summer proved that. But you must understand… our battle was not simply an orc hunt, as you put it. I do not think Elrohir ever told you the whole story. Do you want to know what really happened while we were away? “I do,” Ellaria said, slowly, unsure of how much more she could handle. Elladan nodded. “As you know, Elrohir and I left to do Father’s bidding. He wanted us to purchase some very rare herbs from a human named Salak. While the medicine of men is primitive compared to our methods, Salak’s people, the Ingles, harvest a powerful herb called Rovoe.” “Ah, yes,” Ellaraia said. “I have heard of Rovoe. It draws out the most potent poisons and aids in the swift healing of deep wounds.” “Aye,” Elladan said, nodding. “I forgot that you have spent some time studying the healing arts with my father.” “Yes, he has taught me much about herbs and the like.” “Well, then as you probably know, the Ingles live deep in the Noy Mountains… that is the only place in Middle-earth where Rovoe grows. Word was sent to my father that Salak, an Ingle, would be in Somerset, a human city nearly a fortnight from Rivendell. He asked us to venture there to buy or trade goods for the herb. When we arrived, things did not go as planned.” “What do you mean?” “When Elrohir and I arrived in Somerset, the village was nearly in ruins. You see, the town is deep in a dark forest. Humans settled there because they believed the thicket would act as a barrier of protection. They did not, however, realize that the abundant trees block out the sun for longer portions of the day. For example, sunrise occurs later in Somerset because the trees shield the light until the sun is high overhead. Similarly, the day’s end comes earlier in Somerset. As soon as the sun passes over the trees dusk sets in. In fact, dusk lasts for about a fourth of their day!” Ellaria shook her head, astonished. “Anyway, Elrohir and I asked the survivors what had happened and they told us that a band of orcs had set upon the city the previous night. The raid had lasted for hours, because the trees protected the orcs from the light. Then, they were able to flee into their caves, which were even deeper in the forest… and they did not go alone. Aside from burning markets, houses and killing countless bystanders, they orcs stole men, women and children to torment when they returned to their dens.” Ellaria covered her mouth in horror. “Elrohir and I tried to assemble a small band of warriors from Somerset to help us try to recover some of the people who had been stolen. Unfortunately, many of the men had been injured, killed or were in shock and could not help us. With the memory of our mother’s state forever etched into our minds, we believed that no one should suffer such a fate. So, we decided to ride out and save as many humans as we could. Soon, we found ourselves at the orc dens… but we were too late. The mangled bodies of the humans littered the forest floor. We checked to see if any were alive but the severed legs, arms and heads were the only thing that now spoke for those humans.” Ellaria felt tears forming in her eyes. “I heard a strange noise… a weak groan. Elrohir and I ran to see what human had survived the brutality of this attack. It wasn’t a human… it was an elf.” Ellaria’s mouth fell open in shock. “It was a female and she asked, ‘Elladan, is that you?’ when I approached her. It was Henna.” Elladan paused, trying to gather his strength to tell the rest of the story. “I thought that my eyes were deceiving me. But when Elrohir’s face showed the same shock as mine, I knew that Henna was alive. If you recall, Henna was our nursemaid when we were young. She was also a dear friend of my mother’s. She was with my mother when she was captured by the orcs. We looked for Henna when we rescued our mother but assumed she was dead when we could not find her.” “But Henna had been gone for so long… how had she survived?” “She didn’t,” Elladan whispered, unable to steady his voice. “Her condition was unimaginable…” Elladan’s voice broke. “I cannot tell you… I can’t…” Ellaria clutched her heart when she saw the despair in Elladan’s eyes. “Somehow she was separated from my mother and the others… taken by a different group of orcs… I don’t know. She was so scared…” Elladan couldn’t stop the tears now; they flowed freely as he spoke. “She had somehow managed to escape from her bonds when the orcs left for the raid on Somerset… she crawled out of the cave and threw herself among the dying humans, hoping to be killed, too. Alas, they did not see her. So, she lay there in her weakened state… too weak to crawl back into the cave. And then we came…” Ellaria wiped the tears from her eyes. She felt so guilty for speaking to Elladan so harshly before. She never knew the depth of his pain. She only wished she could take her words back now. “We came… and she begged me… she begged me to… to kill her… to end her suffering. It was her last request. And I couldn’t do it,” Elladan said. “I was so overwrought with emotions that I could not think. Seeing Henna… it was like having my mother back in a way. I had forgotten that I was holding my knife in my hand. Elrohir and I had made ready for battle upon entering the area near the orcs lairs. Before I could stop her, she gathered what was left of her strength, grasped my hand and ran the knife through her heart.” Elladan dropped to his knees and covered his face with his hands. “She died in my arms,” he whispered. Ellaria rushed to Elladan’s slumped body and fell to her knees. She wrapped her arms around him, sobbing softly. “I had no idea,” she whispered. “The orcs soon returned… I… I do not know where they had been. When they saw me and Elrohir… and Henna; they attacked us. We let our rage… our fresh hatred guide us. I killed anything that crossed my path; it was not a battle; it was a massacre. The sun aided me and Elrohir as the orcs were forced to seek shelter from the glowing rays. Any fell creature who did not escape into the cave was slaughtered. One orc, however, threatened me. He said that he could tell Elrohir and me apart and that he would not rest until he killed me… or someone I loved. He swore it.” “Is that why you think Legolas is ill? Do you believe that orc has something to do with the prince’s condition?” “Aye,” Elladan said. “That is why I have to find him… and kill him. If I don’t, Legolas will die.” “If Elrohir knows this, why did he ask me to talk to you?” Elladan brushed away his tears before responding, slowly regaining his composure. “He fears for me. He is afraid that I will die. But I cannot be concerned with my fate when my focus must be on the fate of the one I love most in this world. I have lost too much to the orcs. I will not lose Legolas. I will die a thousand deaths to save him.” “Oh, Elladan…” “And Elrohir would go to the same lengths for you, too,” Elladan said, standing up and helping Ellaria to her feet. “He loves you with all of his heart. Now that you know the truth… now that you know everything… I hope you will forgive him.” Ellaria smiled sincerely. “Why didn’t Elrohir tell me everything?” “He tried to… but methinks you were too angry to hear the whole story.” Ellaria remembered when Elrohir told her about that summer and how she would not let him speak. She had been angry when the twins had gone in search for their mother out of fear for Elrohir. When she heard about yet another battle with orcs, she refused to listen, no matter how desperately Elrohir had tried to explain. She nodded and embraced Elladan. “Thank- you.” Elladan hugged Ellaria and whispered, “I think someone else would like to be held.” Ellaria turned and saw Elrohir entering the garden. Before he could voice his concern about the length of time she had been in the garden, Ellaria raced into his arms, kissing him tenderly. He was shocked at first but soon melted into his love’s embrace, wiping away her tears and a few of his own. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~ Elladan left Ellaria and Elrohir in the garden and crept back into the manor. Still distraught from his conversation with Ellaria, he tried to erase the images of his mother and Henna’s broken bodies from his mind. Finally reaching the resting room, he entered silently. Thranduil, who was sitting at the foot of the bed, keeping a close watch on Legolas, smiled warmly when Elladan entered. Elladan nodded politely, making sure to avoid the king’s eyes. Thranduil rose to his feet, to take his leave. He noticed Elladan’s forlorn demeanor and assumed the young warrior was still distressed about Legolas’ condition. Silently, he offered his seat to Elladan. Not wanting to wake the slumbering prince, he simply placed his hand on Elladan’s shoulder and squeezed reassuringly as a means of comfort. Elladan glanced at the king and forced a faint smile. Trying to keep his eyes focused on something other than Thranduil, Elladan sat down on the chair at the foot of the bed and began to watch Legolas. The king quietly exited the bedchamber. Elladan felt his emotions whirling around inside him; he didn’t know what to do. Watching his lover sleeping so peacefully saddened him beyond words. He could not allow Legolas to suffer; he would find a way to stop it. “You seem lost in thought,” Legolas said, looking at Elladan sleepily. “What is wrong?” “N… nothing,” Elladan murmured, trying to sound cheerful. “When did you awaken?” “Just,” Legolas said, yawing. “And do not try to change the subject.” “I’m not,” Elladan said, smiling. “I am just tired… that’s all.” Legolas pursed his lips in disbelief. “Haven’t I told you before that your guise does not fool me? You are telling a falsehood, Elladan.” Elladan sighed and looked at the floor, unsure of what to say. “Come hither,” Legolas said, sitting up slightly. Elladan arose from his chair and walked toward the prince slowly. He stood at Legolas’ beside and avoided the prince’s eyes. Legolas felt strange suddenly. This feeling was different from when he had the vision the night before. It was as though his body had been engulfed in sunlight. He looked at Elladan and could somehow see within him. The Rivendell warrior was in great distress and emotional turmoil. Yet, Legolas knew somehow that this was not the time to question him further. “Elladan?” Elladan looked at the prince and gasped. Legolas was glowing. For some reason, he wasn’t fearful of the light. It beckoned to him somehow. Legolas moved to one side of the bed and pulled back the bedcovers as an invitation. “What if you father returns?” Elladan asked. “He won’t,” Legolas said. Elladan hesitated, but the prince’s expression was commanding. He pulled his boots and his overtunic off and got in the bed next to Legolas. The prince wasted no time. He pulled Elladan into his arms, cradling him gently. Elladan rested his head on Legolas chest and listened to the beating of his heart. He shuddered when he remembered the way his blade penetrated Henna’s heart – the way she died. *And now, Legolas may die. I may be listening to its gentle rhythm for the last time.* Elladan tried to calm himself but his emotions overwhelmed him. He held Legolas as close as he could, silently pleading with the Valar to spare the prince’s life. Then, he heard a soft voice. “Do not despair, Elladan. This time will pass. No matter what happens, my heart will always be with you.” Legolas stroked his lover’s hair gently and kissed his forehead. Elladan was confused and angered by Legolas’ words. It sounded as though the prince had already given up. He started to protest, but before he could utter a word, the golden light surrounded him. It caressed his face and seemed to penetrate his soul. All of his worry, all of his anger and doubt disappeared. It was replaced with a feeling of utter peace and contentment. He fell into a deep sleep and dreamed about a memory from his childhood. He was in Lórien with his whole family and his nursemaid, Henna. Arwen had not been born yet and he and Elrohir were only five years of age. His mother and father were busy attending council meetings so he and Elrohir, being the mischievous youngsters they were, decided to try to hide from Henna. The twins separated and found their own hiding places. Elladan remembered going deep into the forest and getting lost. He called out, but no one heard him. Panic stricken, he began to run in the direction from whence he came, but he only seemed to get more lost as time wore on. Exhausted and frightened, Elladan sat on a tree stump in the woods and began to cry. Just when he thought all hope was lost he saw golden light approaching. He wasn’t afraid, though. The golden light called to him. He walked toward it and into his grandmother’s arms. She dried his tears and kissed his cheeks. The light washed away his fear; he was safe. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~ Early the next morning, Thranduil went for a long walk. He wanted to sort out all that had happened since he had been in Rivendell and try to make some sense out of the disarray his life and his youngest son’s life was in. He walked up a steep hill and was surprised to see Legolas standing in a clearing. The young prince was practicing his archery and waved when he saw his father approaching. “Legolas… what are you doing? You should be resting.” “I am practicing for the archery competition,” Legolas said, smiling. “Mirkwood has yet to win a single competition… until now.” Legolas fired five arrows in rapid succession, each one striking a nearby tree in a perfect line. “If you would like, I can tell the archers from Rivendell and Lothlórien to forfeit. It seems such a waste for them to put so much energy in their daily practice when they are only going to lose.” Thranduil laughed, “You seem to be very sure of yourself.” “I am your son,” Legolas said, shrugging. “I simply know my strengths and weaknesses.” Thranduil shook his head. “You should be resting.” “I have rested long enough. There is much to be done, now.” “What do you mean?” “You know what I mean,” the prince responded, meeting his father’s eyes. Thranduil inhaled and exhaled sharply. “You are not going to die…” “I might,” Legolas said softly. “But I have made a decision. I want to live… now. If I only have a short time left, then I want it to be the best time of my life. I want to do all the things I love and say all of the things that I haven’t said. I shall not mourn and I do not want you to either.” “I cannot accept your death, Legolas. I will not accept it,” Thranduil said firmly. “I know… you have a problem with acceptance.” “What?” Thranduil asked, looking at Legolas in shock. “I know what you have kept hidden in your heart for so long.” “And what is that?” Thranduil asked, staring at the prince in dismay. “Your love for Elrond.” Thranduil’s mouth fell open. “How… who told you that?” “You did. Last night when I grasped your hand… I… I saw inside you. I saw your heart.” Thranduil turned away from his son. He did not know what to say. He felt as though his privacy had been invaded; he also felt a swell of guilt. He decided to answer what he assumed Legolas would ask. Slowly, the king turned and faced his son. “I loved your mother.” “I know,” Legolas said sincerely. “But she is gone now.” Thranduil was taken aback by Legolas’ words. “I… I…” the king stammered. “You needn’t say a thing, Father. My words are not those of judgment but ones of council,” Legolas said, placing his bow and quiver on the ground and walking toward his father. Stopping a few feet away from the king, he met his father’s eyes. “Elves do not rush into most things… especially where the heart is concerned. We have what so many others do not; we have time. Now that my time is fading, I see how precious it really is.” “Legolas…” “I know everything… I saw it all. You must speak with him. Tell him that you…” “Elrond knows how I feel,” Thranduil said abruptly. He felt awkward about discussing such personal matters with his son, but his heart would not permit him to end the conversation. Something about Legolas had changed. It was as though something had awakened within him. He seemed older and spoke like an ancient one. Thranduil set his jaw and listened carefully to his son’s words. “I know,” Legolas said. “He rejected you.” Thranduil sighed and scratched the back of his neck, trying to mask his embarrassment. “You must forgive him… face-to-face.” “I cannot,” Thranduil said. “You must, Father,” Legolas implored firmly. “Your stubbornness is what separated our realms so many years ago. You must not let that happen again. Remember, it was Lord Elrond who mended my heart after Mother died. He is the tie that binds all three realms together.” “Legolas…” “You have been civil to him, and that is better than the last time, but I need you to forgive him. I need there to be harmony between our realms.” “Why?” “Because I want you to be happy. Mother would have wanted this… I want this. Before I die, I want to believe that the two of you will finally be together… even if it is only as friends. You are so lonely… I didn’t know. I do not want you to remain alone.” “But Legolas, Elrond has made his choice. He does not want to be with me. How can you ask me to be friends with someone who has hurt me so deeply?” “Because you long for his companionship, despite your stubborn nature,” Legolas responded. Thranduil’s eyes widened. He could not believe Legolas was speaking to him in such a manner. “I am not sure if I like this new gift of yours.” Legolas smiled. “Me neither.” There was a long pause between father and son before Legolas spoke. “What I have asked of you… it is my last request… I will ask nothing else of you until the end, if you will only do this for me...” Thranduil hesitated and then nodded slowly. “I swear it.” Legolas smiled and reluctantly embraced his father; he knew it may be the last time. Thranduil pulled away suddenly and gave his son a suspicious glance. “You didn’t have another vision, did you?” Legolas laughed. “Nay.” “Good.” Thranduil embraced his son awkwardly, as this type of affection was rare in their family. While Legolas had accepted his own death, he could not. He only hoped that help would arrive before it was too late. --- TBC… Title: Mending a Heart and the Tie that Binds (18/?) Author: McKenna Espenshade Author's Email: mckennaespen@hotmail.com Pairing(s): Legolas/Elladan & Thranduil/Elrond Rating: NC17 Summary: Legolas and Elladan are together again after being separated for several months, but trouble lies ahead for the couple. Thranduil and Elrond rekindle their friendship and possibly more… Sequel to Mending a Heart. AU. Disclaimer: Tolkien, Tolkien, I'm back again, writing fics until the end. And I know I must give you your due, these characters belong to you. And even though I love the lot, and happily have changed the plot, I truly mean no disrespect, although I write both slash and het. To everyone heed what I mean, The plot is mine, the rest, Tolkien's. Story Setup: This story takes place several months (about six to be exact) from the time of Mending a Heart. Archive: Sure, but please ask. Special Notes: * indicate character thoughts. ~*~* indicates a division in the story or a time change. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~ A/N: *Quote from Marcus Aurelius. Chapter 18: Away into Darkness More than two weeks had passed since the archery contest. Of course, Legolas had completely annihilated his opponents and had received perfect marks for every event. Mirkwood’s competitive spirit seemed to be revived with the prince’s victory, and the warriors from the Emerald Realm became a serious threat in every competition. It seemed, though, that Legolas’ deteriorating condition spurred the combatants from Mirkwood to sheer greatness. They made a great effort to win every contest for the youngest prince of Mirkwood. However, they were sure not to let Legolas know about the nature of their relentless motivation. In the past couple of weeks, numerous competitions had been held. Aside from archery, there had been a horse race, a grappling match, a battle of wits, a needlepoint bee, a foot race, and an obstacle course. Perhaps one of the most amazing and entertaining performances was when Glorfindel and Haldir did a Mock-Na demonstration. Few had knowledge of the ancient elvish fighting style and both Glorfindel and Haldir were masters. Legolas especially seemed to enjoy the performance but not for obvious reasons. He noticed how happy the chief marchwarden seemed in Glorfindel’s presence, and was glad that the elder and Haldir had finally become friends. He secretly hoped their relationship would one day develop into something deeper. Legolas was also thrilled about the reunification of Elrohir and Ellaria. The couple’s wedding was scheduled to take place soon after the competition. The prince was remorseful that he would not be there to witness it. Thranduil had not yet gotten the nerve to speak with Elrond, but Legolas’ words were ever-present in his mind. He would do what he promised; he would speak with Elrond, but not until he could truly forgive him – just as Legolas had asked. Something else weighed heavily on the king’s mind and the minds of everyone in all three realms – Prince Legolas’ condition. Although the medicine had proven to be very helpful – it had successfully prevented any more of the horrific visions and the symptoms that accompanied them. In fact, Legolas had not had any visions since he grasped his father’s hand in the healing chamber. It was obvious, however, that the prince was slowly fading. Although Legolas’ spirits were high, the gradual paling of his skin, the dimming of his eyes, his lingering fatigue and his slower pace indicated that he was truly dying. Legolas pretended that all was well and politely refused any assistance that was offered. No one was fooled, however, as they helplessly watched the prince. Legolas had accepted his fate and wanted the elves of all three realms to remember him as he was – a Prince of Mirkwood. He was the son of King Thranduil until the end and wanted, above all else, to preserve the respect and fortitude that his father had always tried so diligently to maintain. Legolas wanted to die with honor – in a way that was befitting of a prince. Trying to perish in peace was difficult, however, and Legolas often had to keep his wits about him. On more than one occasion, he found himself consoling a sorrowful family member or friend, and had to cheer them up, rather than mourn for himself. In an odd way, talking to others about his approaching death was helpful; it aided him in facing his greatest challenge head-on. This tactic did not work with Elladan, however. In fact, Elladan had completely changed. He had become very withdrawn and was forever planning something. The big-hearted, fun-loving and gentle-spirited warrior was now quiet and introspective. His face had lost much of its color and his eyes were tired and sad. His tunic no longer fit him properly and his belt had been tied in knots just to keep his leggings up around his waist. He and Elrohir no longer looked like twins. In fact, Elladan’s thinner and sunken appearance, made him look like Elrohir’s older and much less handsome brother. No matter what Legolas said or tried to do to comfort his lover, nothing worked. While the prince had put much effort into trying not to mourn about his death, he had desperately tried not to think about the fact that his passing would mean losing Elladan forever. As time wore on and Legolas felt that the end was drawing near, Elladan’s well being became more and more important to the prince. He had to believe that Elladan would live – even if he couldn’t. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~ Legolas observed the dusky sky in admiration. Hues of peach and violet stretched across the heavens, like long arms beckoning him home. He knew his time to forever leave Middle-earth was near. Pushing any remorse out of his mind, he focused on finding Elladan. Legolas hiked up the large hill that sat just behind Lord Elrond’s manor, relying on a gut feeling that Elladan would be there. So many months ago, the prince remembered spending much time there with his lover. It was a special place, for both of them. The price crested the top of the hill and passed through a tangle of trees. In the clearing ahead, standing near the edge of the cliff stood Elladan. He did not acknowledge Legolas’ presence. Instead, he played absent- mindedly with the necklace that he wore around his neck. It was the engagement gift Legolas had given him, that bore a small blue stone, the same color as the prince’s eyes. Legolas approached Elladan slowly and hesitated before speaking. The dark-haired warrior had been so quiet lately that the prince was unsure of what to say. As he stood there only a few feet behind his lover, looking out over the realm, he found himself shaking his head. He had made his way to his relations, his friends and his acquaintances, speaking to them about whatever was on his mind. He had even summoned the courage to converse with his father about Elrond. But talking to Elladan was a different matter altogether. He did not know what to say or how to comfort him. So, he decided not to try – to just spend time with Elladan before the end. “’Tis a beautiful evening,” Legolas said. “Aye… it is…” Elladan’s voice trailed off. “Uh… have you seen the Senora plants? They are in full bloom.” Elladan nodded despondently. “Elladan I…” Elladan turned and placed his fingers on the prince’s lips before Legolas could finish his statement. “I know why you have come here.” Elladan withdrew his hand and let it fall to his side. He turned away from the prince and began to look out over the realm once more. “You believe the time is near… don’t you?” “Aye.” “When?” “I… I am not certain. Soon.” “I will not let you go without a fight. You know that, don’t you?” “What do you mean?” “This is all my fault, Legolas,” Elladan said, turning to face the prince once more. If you only knew…” “Knew what?” Legolas asked. “There is so much to say,” Elladan replied slowly. “And I’m afraid… I’m afraid that if I tell you the truth… that you will be angry.” Legolas smiled warmly and took a step towards Elladan, closing the gap between them. “I haven’t the time for anger anymore. Tell me about the darkness that weighs upon your heart. I shan’t be cross. I promise.” Elladan pulled Legolas into his arms in a tender embrace. “This is going to take some time…” he said in a muffled voice, as his face was buried on the prince’s shoulder. Legolas stroked Elladan’s dark mane. “Come, let us sit under the canopy of that magnificent tree. I do not know how much time I have left… but what I do have belongs to you.” Elladan pulled away from Legolas and grasped his hand. As the lovers walked toward the tree, Legolas smiled and looked up at the sky. Just as dusk faded into night, so did much of the tension between the couple. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~ In another part of Rivendell, King Thranduil was slowly making his way toward Elrond’s manor. He had promised Legolas that he would forgive the Lord of Rivendell and he planned to uphold his pledge – even though it pained him to do so. As he walked, he looked up at the darkening sky and muttered to himself softly. Stomping his foot childishly when he stumbled over his words, he made a quick detour to a nearby garden in an attempt to practice his forgiveness speech before facing Elrond. In frustration, he reached into a pocket that lined the inside of his emerald colored cloak and pulled out a few wrinkled pieces of paper. He scanned the first two pages of the papers and placed them back into the cloak pocket. Clearing his throat he said aloud, “My good friend Elrond. How nice it is to see you once again. I have come to profess my deepest regrets at our newfound… at our newfound….” The king cursed and yanked the papers out, once again. He glanced at the words and then looked up at the sky, speaking theatrically, “I have come to profess my deepest regrets at our newfound parting. Our rift is like a bottomless cavern – a hole in the midst of the mighty sky. It is like a raging river that crashes so fiercely against an awaiting bank. We must not be like the cavern, or the hole or the river – oh no. We must come together like the threads of a web, whose delicate strings are very… are very… Blast!” The king exclaimed in anger, kicking a nearby tree. He stuffed the papers back into his cloak pocket and pouted for a few moments. He had memorized so many speeches in his time that he did not know why this was suddenly so difficult. He had mastered the whole discourse days ago and had recited it from memory more than a dozen times. Setting his jaw, Thranduil made up his mind to try again. After all, he was a king. He had spoken to legions of spectators in the past and would do so in the future. And while the content of this speech was different than others, the king decided that he would treat this address like any other. Sighing loudly, he started from the beginning, “My good friend, Elrond. How nice it is to see you once again.” “It is nice to see you, too,” Elrond said, entering the garden. Thranduil nearly choked on his words upon seeing the lord and clutched his throat as he gagged foolishly. “Thranduil, are you alright?” Elrond asked, racing to the king’s side. “Fine,” Thranduil squeaked, trying desperately to regain his composure. “Did I startle you?” Elrond asked, dismayed. “Nay,” Thranduil lied quickly in a raspy voice. “I… I… simply… swallowed a bug. That… that is why I choked.” Thranduil could feel his face reddening as this was the stupidest response he could have ever given. “You swallowed a bug?” Elrond asked, desperately trying to hide the amusement in his voice. “Please sit down, Elrond. There is something I need to say to you.” Elrond obliged Thranduil’s request by taking a seat on a nearby bench. He watched the king with interest. Thranduil cleared his throat several times and began his speech once again. “My good friend, Elrond. How nice it is to see you once again. I have come to profess my deepest regrets at our newfound parting. Our rift is like a bottomless cavern,” the king stopped speaking abruptly when his still weakened voice gave way and squeaked unexpectedly. Elrond’s eyes widened. He coughed to mask his smile. Thranduil’s face turned from light red to crimson, but he tried to pretend that all was well. He sighed and scratched his head. “Uh… where was I,” he asked himself out loud. “The cavern…” Elrond reminded him, biting his lower lip to stifle a laugh. “Ah, yes… the cavern…” Thranduil began again, waving one of his arms theatrically. Our rift is like a bottomless cavern – a hole in the midst of the mighty sky. It is like a raging river that crashes… that crashes… OH BLAST IT ALL TO THE FIERY PITS!” the king hollered, yanking the papers from his cloak pocket and tearing them up hysterically. Elrond watched Thranduil, openmouthed, wondering why he was behaving so strangely and what he was going to do next. Thranduil turned away from the lord and shook his head in dismay. Never in all of his years had he made such a complete fool of himself. He did not know how to recover from such humiliation. He smirked to himself and wondered where Elladan was, as he was sure the silly man-elf could give him some pointers in a situation such as this. Unsure of how to act or what to say, Thranduil decided to do something completely unexpected – to speak from his heart. He turned to face Elrond at last; his whole demeanor changed. No longer did he put on airs and prance about like some sort of performer. Instead, he bore an expression of complete humility and self-consciousness. “I… I… do not know what to say…” Thranduil began, momentarily surprised that his voice had returned to normal. “I had this whole speech planned.” The king chuckled. “I think the speech and I were like a cavern. Like a hole in the midst of the mighty sky…” Elrond laughed, as did Thranduil. “May I sit beside you?” “Aye.” “The truth is… I did not realize you had entered the garden. I was so preoccupied rehearsing that stupid speech… and when you responded… I was so startled that I nearly died. Elrond laughed. “Literally!” Thranduil laughed. “It was that… that… speech. It… it…” “Choked you up?” Elrond asked, laughing. “Aye,” Thranduil agreed, chuckling. “It really did!” Once their laughter subsided the king met Elrond’s eyes. “As you know… that speech… it was for you. I wanted to speak with you tonight. May I do so now?” “Aye.” “There’s so much to say… and I don’t know if I can convey my feelings without the aid of an elaborate speech to direct my words.” “I don’t understand. You have spoken to me freely before.” “But it is different now. Even you cannot deny the tension between us.” Elrond didn’t respond. Instead, he broke their intense gaze and looked around the garden, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. Thranduil sensed the lord’s discomfort but ignored it. He had nothing to lose by telling Elrond the truth. “Legolas sent me here, you know,” he began slowly. Elrond met the king’s eyes, surprised by his words. “He… he knew that something had happened between us… that I was angry with you. He asked me to forgive you… as his dying wish.” Elrond’s eyes saddened when the king spoke of Legolas in such a way. “How did Legolas know that…” “He had a vision,” Thranduil replied, interrupting Elrond. Elrond nodded slowly, wondering in silence how much Legolas knew. “He is going to die, isn’t he?” Thranduil asked, softly. Elrond hesitated but then nodded. “His only hope is Galadriel. And if she does not arrive soon… I fear the worst.” Thranduil rose to his feet. His grief could not be denied. He did not shed a tear but his despair was evident in his manner. His eyes lost their light and his shoulders slumped slightly. The king’s troubled eyes met Elrond’s. “Your words ring true, as I have witnessed Legolas’ slow demise. And yet… I cannot accept his death. The Valar could not be so cruel as to take Legolas from me again. I nearly lost him once… and to endure through his suffering a second time seems so unfair. Losing Areen was difficult enough… just the thought of more sorrow…” Thranduil shook his head slowly. “I do not know what will become of Joren, Makail and Dace if Legolas really died. Moreover, I do not know what would become of me.” “Thranduil…” Elrond said gently. “Nay, Elrond. Please do not speak. There is so much to say… and I must keep my promise.” “Very well,” Elrond agreed. Thranduil stood motionless for a few moments trying to collect his thoughts. He didn’t know where to start. He sighed loudly before speaking. “While I have much to say, I will not tarry. So, this shan’t take long,” the king muttered, not really knowing what was going to be said. “You hurt me… your rejection hurt me.” Elrond could see the pain in Thranduil’s eyes but did not let his own feelings show. “I was presumptuous. I am a king after all,” Thranduil said lightly. “I haven’t been rejected very often in my lifetime. I am used to getting what I want. And the truth is… the truth is that I have never wanted anyone as much as I want you.” Elrond felt his heart skip a beat, but he remained outwardly calm. “I have loved you for so long…” the king whispered, as though saying the words aggrieved him. “I am sorry. The chasm that has formed between us is my doing. I shouldn’t have told you how I feel. I was a fool. Can you ever forgive my lack of judgment?” “Thranduil…” Elrond began, but was silenced by a firm look from the king. “Please… please do not say more than what is asked of you, Elrond. This is so hard for me… to admit that I was wrong. Please only answer the question. Can you ever forgive my lack of judgment?” Elrond sighed. “Aye….” “Good,” Thranduil said, nodding. “Thank you for trying to heal my son. I appreciate all of your efforts. When I called upon you, you came quickly and without question. No matter what happens, I will always be grateful to you for that.” Elrond nodded, smiling faintly. “I… I wrote that speech so that I could talk to you without having to really think,” Thranduil admitted. “I wrote it so I could go through the motions of forgiving you… even if forgiving you was the last thing on my mind. I wanted to keep my promise to Legolas… but I knew I couldn’t. So, I convinced myself to at least say the words… to pretend to forgive you. Then I would have tried to uphold my word to my son. But it is more complicated than that isn’t it?” Elrond nodded in agreement. “I will not deny that a part of me is angry with you… but I suppose that another part of me respects you.” Elrond’s eyes widened. “You rejected me… again. When I first met you, thousands of years ago, I fell in love with you. I thought you were in love with Areen and banished you from Mirkwood. You never understood why until only a short while ago. And even with that knowledge, you denied me once again.” “Thranduil, I…” “Nay,” Thranduil said, shaking his head. “You do not have to explain anything to me. I can see now that I need to move on… that I am the source of all of the problems in our friendship. I am selfish – concerned with my own needs. It is I who needs forgiving, not you.” Thranduil took a deep breath before continuing. “After the competition is over, I will take my leave from Rivendell. I shan’t return.” Elrond started to protest, but Thranduil silenced him by raising his hand. “I am not leaving in anger. I shall leave as your friend… always your friend. You and yours may come to Mirkwood anytime you choose. You will be welcomed as honored guests and be treated like royalty. And if you ever need anything simply call upon the Emerald Realm; we shall answer.” Elrond rose to his feet. “Thranduil, Thranduil… I…” “You do not owe me an explanation, Elrond,” the king said sadly. “You have told me over and over again how you feel… through your actions… and then your words. It is I who have not listened.” Thranduil looked at the ground and then met Elrond’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I have behaved so badly. I am surprised that you have not yet banished me,” the king chuckled softly. “My anger toward you has diminished, and I hope you feel the same way.” “I do,” Elrond said, taking a step toward the king. “Good. Then I hope we can be friends again. And I hope that you will find it within yourself to forgive me.” “Thranduil, there is nothing to forgive. I… I have a confession of my own to make,” Elrond said slowly. “You needn’t explain,” Thranduil said firmly. The king took a step toward Elrond and placed his hand on the lord’s shoulder. “I do not blame you anymore… I blame me.” Elrond held the king’s gaze for a long time. He wanted to tell him how much he loved him. He wanted to pull Thranduil into his arms and kiss all of his self-doubt and pain away. He wanted to feel the king’s arms around him and Thranduil’s soft lips pressed against his. The idea of the king leaving Rivendell forever was almost too much to bear. But Elrond stood there speechless, even when Thranduil bowed and walked away. He simply stood there wondering how his life had come to this. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~ Elladan waited patiently for Legolas’ response. He had told the prince everything. Legolas now knew about the events of the summer… about the orc – the reason for his current condition. Elladan wrung his hands nervously, awaiting the prince’s response. “So that is why you have been so distant since I have returned,” Legolas said, seemingly talking to himself. “Aye,” Elladan responded. “So you see… I am responsible for your illness. The orc decided to punish me through someone I love.” Legolas rose to his feet and sighed. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” “I… I was afraid that you would be angry. When Ellaria found out, she cancelled her engagement to Elrohir. I… I thought that you might react in the same way.” Legolas turned and looked at Elladan who was still sitting on the ground. The enormous tree was a place of comfort for the prince. He now realized that it would have to be a place of comfort for Elladan as well. Elladan mistook Legolas’ silence for anger and spoke quickly. “I… I have been formulating a plan… a plan to find and kill the orc who has done this to you.” Legolas looked at Elladan in disbelief, but before he could say anything, Elladan continued. “Do you remember when we went to Gaidon to return the little boy to his family? Well, some of the riders of the Northern Dúnedain knew of Elrohir and I… they knew about what happened in Somerset or Cal’ way, as the humans call it. When Elrohir and I were alone with Channah, a priestess in Gaidon, she asked Elrohir and I to consider joining the human men in their cause – ridding the world of orcs. Initially, I turned them down, but now I plan to return to Gaidon and seek their help, just as Channah said I would; she told me I would return to Gaidon. Even though they are human, and are inferior to elves, I cannot go in search of this orc alone. I do not believe that Elrohir will help me, as I am sure he would not want to jeopardize his relationship with Ellaria again. I shall set out very soon. Once I find the orc, I will kill him, and you will at last be released from his power over you. If I could only find a reason to go to Gaidon without arousing any suspicion. Father will want to know why I wish to return there and will demand that I am accompanied by a legion of elves if he even suspects a battle. Not to mention the fact that I cannot find my game knife,” Elladan rambled on. “I lost it quite some time ago and cannot imagine going into battle without it.” Legolas inhaled sharply and looked up at the cobalt sky suddenly as a strange feeling overcame him. When the sensations dissipated he met Elladan’s eyes. “Taran has your knife.” “Taran? The little, human boy? But how do you know that? Why would he take it?” “Yon just told me,” Legolas said simply. “He saw Taran take it when we were in Gaidon. Methinks the little human wanted a keepsake from the infamous twinship, Odion and Yeno. ” “I had forgotten about that,” Elladan remarked, dismayed. “Yon? How could you speak to your horse from way up here, Legolas? The stables are quite far away.” The prince shrugged. “My power has grown so much that I am not sure what I am capable of anymore,” Legolas said. “Sometimes, I can speak to animals without even trying to.” “Legolas!” Elladan exclaimed in excitement, jumping to his feet. “Legolas do you know what this means?” The prince shook his head. “I now have the perfect reason to go to Gaidon. I will tell my father that Taran has my knife and that I must return to Gaidon to retrieve it. He will not say no.” “Elladan,” Legolas began, “I do not want you to go to Gaidon.” “What?” Elladan asked, crestfallen. “Why not? This venture will save your life, Legolas. Don’t you see that?” “And what if your life is lost in your attempt to save mine?” “It does not matter,” Elladan remarked stubbornly. “It matters to me,” Legolas said, standing directly in front of Elladan and caressing his face gently. “Legolas, I could not save my mother… I could not save Henna… but I can save you. I know I can.” “Elladan,” Legolas said slowly. “I… I do not know if there is enough time.” “Of course there is,” Elladan said, confidently. “Everything is falling into place now. I have told you the truth, I know where my knife is, I have the perfect excuse to go to Gaidon, and have a small, human army ready to help me. Everything is going to be alright… you will see.” Legolas hadn’t the heart to tell Elladan what he felt inside, but the prince knew it was too late for him to be saved. He stared at Elladan’s sunken appearance and felt overwhelmed by his anguish. He cursed inwardly, wishing there was something he could do to ensure Elladan’s safety after he died. Then he remembered some old friends he had met on this very hill not too long ago. Without warning, he pulled away from Elladan and headed towards the woods. “Where are you going?” Elladan asked, dismayed. “I… I need to do something. It will only take a short while. Please, wait here. I will return soon.” “Very well,” Elladan said, watching the prince disappear into the thicket. Elladan sat down on the soft grass and leaned against the large tree trunk. He reviewed his plan over and over again in his head and smiled to himself at his own brilliance. As the minutes passed, Elladan began to wonder where the prince had gone and suddenly felt concerned when he heard a pack of wolves howling deep in the woods. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~ “Where have you been?” Elladan asked, dismayed when Legolas emerged from the woods nearly an hour after he had left. “I had to do something,” Legolas remarked. Elladan wanted to ask more questions but decided against it when Legolas set his jaw. The prince could be quite stubborn sometimes, and Elladan knew from experience that trying to pressure Legolas would be a waste of time. The prince sat under the tree beside Elladan and met his eyes. “We need to talk.” “Alright,” Elladan said, not liking the tone of Legolas’ voice. “I do not think you should journey to Gaidon. I do not want you to go in search of the orc you feel is responsible for my condition.” “What?” Elladan asked in shock. “You must be jesting.” “I am quite serious. Elladan… you could be seriously hurt or even killed if your quest goes awry. Your family… they need you. My family… they may need you, too… before the end.” “The end?” Elladan asked. He sighed angrily and rose to his feet. “You sound as though you have given up already.” Legolas looked at the ground and then back up at Elladan. “Legolas, I must do this. I must right my wrongs.” “And what wrong would be righted by your death? Elladan, you look unwell…” Elladan scoffed. “You should focus on yourself…” “Enough, Legolas,” Elladan said firmly. “My mind has been made up. I leave for Gaidon as soon as possible. My well-being is irrelevant… all that matters is you. I will find the one responsible for your illness and make him pay. And if any other fell creature tries to stop me, he will die where he stands.” Legolas felt a wave of sadness overcome him but knew there was nothing he could do. Suddenly, his mind went blank and he could feel himself being transported to another place. He found himself in the Golden Wood and remembered what Galadriel had asked him to tell Elladan when he was in Lórien. He opened his mouth and the words spilled out, almost involuntarily. “Elladan, the consequences of anger are far more grievous than the causes of it.”* Elladan looked at Legolas sadly and sunk to his knees. “I know,” he said, softly. “I… I do not know what else to do.” “Love me… and… my memory…” “Don’t say that,” Elladan demanded, pulling the prince into his arms. “I cannot… I will not let you go.” Legolas wrapped his arms around Elladan for a moment and then released him. Their lips met in a gentle kiss that seemed to go on forever. Soon, they were undressing one another and their naked bodies came together over an over again; their moans of pleasure echoed through the trees. The first rays of the sun stretched their arms languidly from behind the distant mountains and Legolas awakened. He stroked Elladan’s hair; he knew what today meant for him. Elladan stirred and looked at Legolas sleepily. “Are you hungry? We could have the morning meal together.” “Nay,” Legolas replied. “I… I have to go today… but not here. Would you escort me to your father’s manor?” “Of course,” Elladan said, casting the prince a bewildered look. He rose to his feet, stretched, yawned and hurriedly got dressed. He watched Legolas curiously. The prince fumbled with his clothing but managed to dress himself. He touched his hair and could tell it was in disarray, but decided not to spend any time on it. It would not matter soon, anyway. He felt the presence within him taking hold and realized that his time was very near. “Elladan, I need to go to the manor, now.” “Alright,” Elladan said. “Let us away.” Legolas began to walk but his legs gave out and he fell to the ground in a very undignified manner. “Legolas…” Elladan said, helping the prince to his feet. The color was quickly fading from Legolas’ face. “Hurry,” the prince muttered uneasily. Terror gripped Elladan’s heart. Without another word, he threw Legolas’ body over his shoulder and began running toward the manor. The underbrush scratched his face and tore his tunic as he ran, but he did not care. As soon as he cleared the forest he began screaming at the top of his lungs. “Father! Father!” Elladan ran into the manor and was met by his father, Glorfindel, Celeborn and his grandmother. “Father! Father, it’s Legolas… he’s… he’s…” Elrond pulled the prince’s limp body away from Elladan and raced toward the healing room. He paused for a moment to say something to Glorfindel, but the chief marchwarden was already gone. Elrond laid the prince on a bed in the healing chamber and looked at Galadriel expectantly. She placed her hands on Legolas’ chest for a long while, acting as though she was gaining some sort of understanding about the prince’s condition. Removing her hands she shook her head and met Elrond’s eyes. “Not yet,” she said mysteriously. Elrond shifted impatiently and watched Legolas. The prince was suffering. Legolas’ eyes were squeezed shut and he writhed slowly as though something inside his being was tearing him apart. His eyes watered from the torture and his breathing became ragged. Elrond remembered Celebrían’s pain and turned away, unable to see Legolas in such agony. “Do something, Grandmother,” Elladan demanded, his voice cracking with emotion. “Please.” Thranduil, his sons, Arwen, Elrohir, Haldir and Glorfindel burst through the entranceway of the healing room and came to stand by Legolas’ side. “Legolas?” Thranduil said gently. “Legolas, we are here.” The prince opened his eyes slowly and clutched his chest. “Joren?” he said breathlessly. The crown prince embraced his brother. “I got here as soon as I could, Little One.” Legolas nodded and winced, gasping with pain. “I… I’m sorry, Father. I… uh… I… I…” “Shh…” Thranduil said. “Do not apologize…” Legolas lurched forward and groaned, trembling violently. “Legolas… I kept my promise,” Thranduil said, hoping to take the prince’s mind off of his pain. Legolas mustered a faint smile. “Thank you, Father.” He looked at his brothers and nodded. Dace and Makail came forward and embraced their brother. “Please, Legolas,” Dace said, unable to hide the emotion in his voice. “Don’t leave…” Legolas struggled for breath as he spoke. “Tialise will… take care of you. You… you will be fine.” Tears rolled down Dace’s face. “Legolas, please…” “Stay out… of… trouble, Makail,” Legolas teased. Makail did not respond. He couldn’t. Legolas lay back on the bed and met Elladan’s eyes. He touched the engagement necklace he had given Elladan only months ago and smiled. “I… I love you… my Elladan.” The prince closed his eyes and slipped away into darkness. --- TBC…