Title: Contentment 
 
Author: Talullah 
Author's email: talullahred@gmail.com
Author's website: www.secretstigma.net
 
Pairings: Elrond/Legolas 
Summary: Elrond and Legolas share a peaceful moment. 
Rating: R 
 
Feedback: I would love to learn your opinion on this. 
Archive: Library of Moria, AFF, Of Elves and Men, 
Melethryn, Peredhil. Others are welcomed, but please tell me 
where it is. 
Disclaimer: The characters are not mine. They belong to the 
estate of J.R.R. Tolkien and God knows who else. No 
disrespect intended. No profit made. 
 
Author’s Notes: Written for the LotR All Slash 
Secret Santa Fic Exchange, for Sian (Denise), who asked for 
an Elrond/Legolas fic with no torture, graphic violence or 
rape. 
 
This story is a prelude of sorts to the story I originally wrote 
for this challenge, ‘Threadbare’, which I rejected as it did not 
fit what I imagine Denise would prefer. 
 
Inspired by The Gwillion’s ‘Contentment’ (at her Deviant 
Art gallery). 
 
I would like to express my deep appreciation for dear Larien 
Elengasse who took this piece in a rather rough state and 
betaed it so carefully and so quickly, not without dispensing 
me her ever so kind and encouraging words. 
 
Warning: May/December. Leggie has just reached majority 
and Elrond is around two millennia old. 
 
~~~~~~ 
Imladris, 1702 Second Age 
 
There are moments in each life of such perfection that they 
should be captured for eternity.  My Greenleaf is here, tired 
this dawn from another sleepless night.  Despite his 
seemingly endless stamina, he is starting to feel the weight of 
over a week of sleepless nights. 
 
I am dressed this cold morning, and I am ready to leave to yet 
another endless council meeting; but instead of departing for 
the council chambers, I sit by the window.  My formal 
clothing and stern hair offer a sharp contrast to my lover's 
unruly locks and naked torso.  He is scantily clad; in fact, he 
wears only a pair of leggings. 
 
I should be chastising myself for being here, in this room 
with a naked youth to whom I made love to, but I can only 
feel love for him. 
 
I am not sure if he is sad or happy.  The tiniest smile seems to 
sweeten his lips, but his eyes are longing for something, for 
what I do not know.  He sighs and rubs his face on my robes. 
“I love you,” he says. 
 
Being older does not mean one is wiser.  Still, I have the 
presence of mind to hold my tongue.  How can I tell him that 
I love him?  How can I love him, yet I do.  I know that this 
last week has been a torrent of mistakes; I know we both will 
live to regret this.  But this moment is sheer perfection, and I 
let all those thoughts drift from my mind as the pale light 
bathes us. 
 
Stroking his hair is the only action, the only thought, the only 
reason for living that there is on Arda for me in this moment; 
it condenses all the good and beauty in this world. 
 
~~~~~~ 
 
He was so young and impetuous, my sweet Greenleaf.  The 
first night I found him waiting for me, in my rooms, I tried to 
convince him to return to his father.  ‘Elbereth, he is but a 
child,’ I thought; I did not know Legolas, then.  As soon as I 
closed the door behind me, looking inquisitively at my 
unexpected visitor, he started: 
 
“Oh Lord Elrond, I have admired you even before I knew 
you, from the tales of your bravery.  Grandfather speaks 
highly of you, as does father, but they never told me you 
were the most beautiful elf in Arda!”  Realising his mistake, 
he corrected himself with a slight blush, “Erm, half-elf.” 
Recognizing that that was a small compliment, he added in 
despair, “Ah, creature!” then smiled smugly at his cleverness. 
 
I could not help but smile as well -- the youngster was 
endearing in all his enthusiasm.  “Prince Legolas, it is late 
and your father must be wondering where you are,” I said, 
trying to dismiss him without hurting his feelings. 
 
“Lord Elrond I am 51 years old.  My father knows I am an 
adult and I am free to roam wherever I want.” Once again his 
naiveté brought upon me a mix of amusement and 
endearment.  Somehow, he reminded me of my Elros, all fire 
and innocence. 
 
I insisted, “Still, you are young and should be resting.  We 
can deepen our acquaintance some other time, perhaps.” 
 
He was so vehement in his threats to return alone to 
Mirkwood if I expelled him from my company, making me 
responsible for all the hazards he might face on the road, that 
he amused me.  I tried to conceal my smile and decided to 
prove to the youth that he had been wrong about me, that I 
was but an old, boring peredhel. 
 
I taught him how to play chess.  He already knew some of the 
rules, but had a complete lack of knowledge of even the most 
basic strategy.  Odd that Thranduil would forego such an 
important part of his education, but as my acquaintance with 
Legolas grew, I saw his motives.  Legolas did not need 
strategy.  His heart was pure and lit by love and bravery.  The 
Valar would always look after him and give him just reward 
for all the good he brings the world. 
 
The night went on, and my brave, loving Greenleaf did his 
best to prove me wrong by staying awake and learning the 
game.  It was so endearing to watch him as he tried to stifle 
one yawn after the other.  I did not let him win any of the 
matches, but, despite his obvious sleepiness, by the end of the 
night his game had improved quite a bit. 
 
The next morning, I left him sleeping in the chair he had 
taken, his golden hair looking paler in the cold morning light, 
and his lips forming a lovely pout.  I headed for the council, 
feeling tired and rumpled, as I had not bathed or changed. 
Right before the council meeting started, I sought Thranduil. 
 
“My Lord Thranduil, could you spare me a moment?” 
Thranduil nodded. 
 
“My Lord, last night I received a visit from your son, 
Legolas.” Up to now my intentions of having a light but 
decisive conversation with Thranduil were going fine, but as 
the dark cloud crossed his face I could see that this father 
would not take things so lightly.  My first mistake.  I tried to 
mend it immediately. 
 
“The youth seems to have developed an infatuation for me, 
but I did my best to bore him to sleep.  We played chess the 
whole night and he is now sleeping in my rooms. Perhaps 
you could send someone for him…” 
 
Thranduil stared at me with his gravest expression.  Not even 
in council had I seen such a stern look in his eyes.  After a 
tremendously long pause, he said, “Lord Elrond, I see that 
your intentions are good, otherwise you would not be here, 
speaking to me thus, but Legolas is a child, a stubborn child 
at that.  I ask you to stay away from him in the future.  If he 
seeks you, please do not encourage him.” 
 
I opened my mouth to defend myself but he stopped me 
short. 
 
“I know you do not see what has happened as an 
encouragement, but I am not sure he will share that opinion.” 
Thranduil’s tone became softer.  “Please, Elrond, thread 
carefully with him.” 
 
I should have heeded his advice, of course.  It was 
preposterous for one of my age to be courting a youth barely 
into his adulthood, but I was not really the suitor.  In any 
case, I only meant to give him the affection an older friend 
dispenses to a younger one. 
 
Legolas sought me on the following evening.  “Lord Elrond, 
I have been practicing all day,” he said, his eyes gleaming. 
“Are you too tired for a game?” 
 
I had taken care of myself and was feeling refreshed.  ‘What 
wrong could it bring,’ I thought. The thought of 
disappointing my young friend saddened me and a game of 
chess was a nice way to take my mind off the fate of Middle- 
earth for a few moments. 
 
We played, but as the night went on I became more and more 
inattentive.  The games became longer and he offered more 
resistance to defeat.  In a couple of games, he actually made 
some very threatening moves.  The youth was a fast learner, I 
could see. 
 
On the last game, he once more brought a smile to my lips, 
when at the last moment I check-mated and saw that look of 
pure disappointment in his lovely pout.  It was time for him 
to go to his bed.  It was very late and I could not afford two 
sleepless nights. 
 
He went, reluctantly, but in less than two hours I was up 
again. 
 
The third night, he was there again at my door.  I knew by 
then I should take firmer action.  Thranduil had glared at me 
the whole day long, and if the youth had indeed any hopes I 
needed to cut them at the root.  I let him in.  We played a few 
games in silence. 
 
On the forth game, he was starting to win.  I could have 
shown him some mercy, given him the game, but he was too 
intelligent to fail to notice such an action.  I made an 
aggressive move to finish the game and send him off to bed. 
In two moves he had won the match. 
 
The slight annoyance of having my scheme ruined was 
largely offset by the pride in my student.  Despite his 
rashness and naiveté, Legolas showed a great mind.  I 
conceded him another game. 
 
“If I win this game will you give me a present?” he asked. 
 
I smiled and nodded. His self-confidence was a bit 
premature.  We played a hard, long game, but in the end my 
greater experience won me the game. 
 
What I liked most about Legolas, was the way his emotions 
showed so clearly on his face.  In that moment he was the 
living image of disappointment.  Trying to cheer him up, I 
asked him what was it he wanted so badly from me, as I led 
him to the door. 
 
He hesitated, and in the faint light I thought I even saw a 
tinge of rose in his cheeks. He mumbled, “A kiss.” 
 
I suppose I should have been upset that he had not settled for 
my friendship, but I felt such tenderness for him.  On an 
impulse, I kissed him on the cheek.  “Off you go now,” I 
said.  I had to push him gently out of the room, the poor 
thing.  That was my second mistake. 
 
The fourth day, Legolas was at my door again.  Instead of his 
customary simple clothes, he wore an embroidered tunic and 
his hair was held back by a complex pattern of braids.  He 
smelled of perfume.  He was obviously trying to impress me, 
and I should have been harsh and sent him immediately back 
to his father.  However, I let him enter the room and the 
brazen little thing pecked my cheek. 
 
We played. I won all the games, despite the intenseness of 
each match.  His brashness had given him the element of 
surprise before, but now I was well awake and prepared for 
him.  We played the whole night, some games were won in a 
few moves, others took over an hour. 
 
By the end of the night, he had resigned to the idea that many 
games awaited him before he could repeat his prowess.  He 
rose and asked, “What will be your prize then, Lord Elrond?” 
 
I was very tired then; I was so much older than him and the 
human blood in me cried for sleep.  I stared at him, thinking 
about what I should say, when the answer, ‘Nothing, thank 
you,’ was more than obvious as the right choice. 
 
He swayed, but then made his decision.  With two steps he 
rounded the table and leaned in to kiss me.  It was on the 
corner of my lip.  I still ignore why I reacted that way, but I 
turned my head and let our lips brush.  It was electrifying, 
and it was my third mistake.  Legolas sprang up, taking his 
fingers to his lips, surprise spreading on his lovely features. 
He dipped and kissed me on the lips once more before 
leaving the room, almost leaping with joy. 
 
I felt jolted, stranded in my chair.  I had to tell him that I 
already loved another.  I had to tell him that I was too old for 
him.  I had to tell him that his father disapproved and was 
right about it.  I doubted that Oropher would revel in the 
knowledge of what had passed between Legolas and I. 
Legolas, much like myself, had duties to his people to fulfill. 
Gil-galad had already started questioning me about the gossip 
running loose.  This had to stop. 
 
The fifth night, he was there again.  He sat opposite of me 
like in the previous evenings but did not reach for the tray.  I 
too sat still, staring at him. 
 
“My father says I am making a mistake,” he said. 
 
“I am making a mistake too,” I replied. 
 
“Will you…” he seemed at loss for words.  “Will you insist 
on being wrong?” 
 
That was Legolas, even given the time to measure his words 
he did not play games with them and simply said what he 
thought. 
 
What was I doing?  I barely knew him, he was little more 
than a child and no one would approve of our being together. 
I had already met someone who had a place in my heart as 
well and would be a fitting wife.  What was I doing when I 
rose and kissed him?  When I let him touch my body, take 
my clothes, kiss my naked skin?  What was I thinking when I 
returned all the love he gave me?  Certainly not of the day 
when it would end. 
 
~~~~~~ 
 
I always thought that if I could do everything correctly, that 
if I abided by my principles and considered all possible 
angles, all problems could be avoided, that pain could be kept 
at bay.  This was not so.  Despite the evidence, I still insisted 
in never taking risks, in never making any rash decisions, as 
if I had indeed any control over life.  I had not been unhappy 
as such, but I had missed chances along the way. 
 
“Peredhel, life is to be lived,” was something Maedhros used 
to tell me in those rare occasions when he softened around 
us.  I know he thought I spent too much time thinking.  He 
was right, life has a course of its own and only a fool would 
think to fight it.  Might was well let go and let the current 
wash over and drag us away. 
 
I wonder if Eregion would still be standing, had been bolder. 
Or if I had declared my feelings to Celebrían if I would not 
be happily married and too busy with my wife and possibly 
my first child to notice Legolas when I met him, and spare us 
all some pain. 
 
This love was a surprise, and despite all the pain it has caused 
I did not live to regret it as I had foretold.  In an uncertain 
world, all love is worthy, even if it lasts only a second, even 
if it brings pain. 
 
How a heart can harbour two loves I do not know, but why 
should the thought be strange?  Can we not love more than 
one friend at a time?  Do parents love only one of their 
children?  But the ways of the world are hard to change, even 
if it would not hurt both my loves to have only half of me. 
 
How could I ever convince them that they had me whole?  To 
this day I do not know if I made the right choice or the best 
choice.  I had loved Celebrían longer, and our marriage has 
brought new life to Arda, my dear children whose presence 
has made my life so much richer.  But letting go of Legolas 
was the hardest sacrifice I ever made.  Why let go of him and 
not her?  I believe I could have been equally happy with him. 
 
Did I make a mistake to let my head chose instead of my 
heart?  All was against us, his father, his youth, my wish to 
have children, Celebrían’s love, Gil-galad’s approval, the 
hurt I saw in my dear Erestor’s eyes, he who also loved my 
young prince.  And the heart could never choose, of course. 
Still, we had some years of happiness.  Maybe I was selfish. 
I still do not know. 
 
What I do know is that for me, despite everything, it was 
worth it. 
 
Finis 
December 2004