Fortunate Son

************************************************
Title: Fortunate Son <1/?>
Author: Arctapus, Helmboy, ]:>
Codes: LOTR, Many, R and Up, Non-Au
Post: Appropriate places
Disclaimer: This story is mine. The world 
isn't. I imply no copyright infringement 
by using it.

Summary: Legolas is fostered as a youngster 
to the court at Rivendell, much against the 
wishes of his parents and in keeping with 
the 'guidance' of Celeborn and Galadriel, 
two who hope to end the bickering by 
creating a bond. All that follows is not 
gold. ;)

Feedback is welcomed and answered. Comments, 
criticism, suggestions, ideas, and other 
interaction is always welcome.
Inspired by some notions of AC in a few of her
stories. Thank you, AC, for the inspiration.
************************************************

***Lothlorien ...

He sat on a tree root waiting for his parents 
to come down from the platform that marked the 
entrance to the home of the Lady and Lord of 
the Wood. They had arrived earlier, the Captain 
of the Guard, Haldir leading them in. As they 
arrived it was clear that there were others 
already here, their horses tied nearby and 
their retainers waiting patiently.

He had dismounted, eyeing the strange dark-
haired Elves with curiosity even as he was 
eyed. They had noticed him from the group, 
his unusual beauty standing out in a crowd 
known for it. He had not recognized anyone 
and seeing the saddle markings of Elves 
from Imladris, he had found a place by 
himself, sitting on a large root at the 
bottom of a Mallorn tree.

He had only snatches of reasons for the trip 
to Lorien, this being the first time in his 
life he had ever accompanied his parents any 
place beyond the strict confines of their 
kingdom. He was the youngest and often times 
in the hectic schedule of business of state, 
the one left behind with his mother.

Now something had arrived in their midst and it 
had upset both of them terribly. His father 
almost didn't agree to leave, so unhappy was he 
with the 'request' of the Lord and Lady of the 
Wood. The situation had not been discussed with 
him but he had been asked to go, riding to 
Lothlorien with his parents. 

They were met and taken inside the great forest, 
the trees stupefying to him, even as he had 
been raised among them. They rode to the city, 
soldiers tying their horses to railings 
as the great lady and lord met them, escorting
them inside. He had been introduced, Lady 
Galadriel especially gracious and then they had 
left him to cool his heels in the shade and 
serenity of the great wood.

People had come and gone, some he knew from 
a glimpse here and there and some not, 
causing him to speculate who was 'friendly' 
and who was the 'enemy', his own euphemism 
for Rivendell folk. Horses trumpeted their 
impatience to him as he waited with growing 
anxiety for the outcome of the meeting. 

All he knew was that he was the agenda.

***In the presence of the Lord and Lady of 
the Wood ...

They sat together, each on their own side. 
The King and Queen of the Green Wood stared 
with regal coolness at the dais where 
Celeborn and Galadriel sat. On the other 
side, equal to them, Lord Elrond, Glorfindel 
and Erestor sat.

Galadriel suppressed a sigh, the emotions of 
all involved clear to her and she turned to 
her husband, Celeborn and nodded. He rose 
and stood before them, tall and contemplative.

"Welcome to our country, good and wise people. 
We are most gratified that you came to our 
summons. It is on the business of all good 
that we asked you here today. For these many 
years it has been estranged among us, the 
relations between the great Green Wood and 
the valley of Rivendell cold between you. That 
is not the way of our people. 

"There is much to gain from a closer and 
warmer alliance. Contact between our three 
countries should be increasing but it is not. 
Our people should feel free to come and go
amongst us but they do not. Much that is 
good and valuable is not emerging between 
us because of old wounds and attitudes."

Elrond stole a glance toward Thranduil and 
noted that the King was uncomfortable under 
the unblinking gaze of the great Lord. He, 
himself, a son-in-law of the two was more used 
to the ethereal contact and therefore felt 
less harshly the impact of his words.

Celeborn turned to his wife, Galadriel smiling 
at him with her usual gaze of loving admiration. 
He smiled back, considering his words. As he 
did Thranduil stole a glance at Elrond. Their 
gazes met, a chill was passed between them and 
they turned back, listening as Celeborn began 
again.

"It was and still is the practice of fostering
sons between families of great houses. For my 
Lady and I, having the children of Elrond for 
lengths of time is close to the experience of 
our ancestors but that is the relationship of 
grandparents and grandchildren. That is separate 
even if it is good."

He stared at both men for a second. "The Lady 
and I wish that you, Thranduil, foster your 
youngest child to the household of Lord Elrond. 
It would be in the interests of all for you to 
do this thing. It would help to heal wounds 
that have lingered far too long between us. I 
would suggest a son sent to you, Thranduil, 
but Elrond's children are grown."

It was silent a moment, no one speaking and 
then Celeborn continued. "We are asking this
for the greater good of all our people. We 
would consider it a favor personal to us, 
Thranduil, if you would do this good thing. 
A favor to us. A personal favor."

They all sat, listening to the implications 
unspoken and then Elrond rose, turning to 
the two silent pale people on the other side 
of the small room.

"It would be an honor to do this and I would 
give to any child of Thranduil the best 
possible care and protection." Inside his 
head a banshee howled even as he acceded to 
the inevitability of the moment. He waited, 
breath held, stealing a glance at Galadriel. 
She winked just barely perceptibly and he 
struggled not to smile.

Thranduil glanced at the shocked and pale 
face of his wife and then rose slowly. "Does 
the Lord of Lothlorien mean that I must give 
up my youngest child at this tender moment of 
his fostering to the care of another? What 
manner of thing is this that a father and 
mother must send a child of their own off 
to live among strangers?" 

The emphasis on strangers was clear and angry 
even as Thranduil struggled with the manner 
of his speaking and Elrond struggled too not 
to bristle. 

"Your son would be safe in my lands, as safe 
as a child of my own," Elrond countered, his 
words and manner deliberately soft and gentle.

"But he isn't your son," Thranduil said, 
struggling with his anger. "He is mine, my 
youngest boy. I am being asked to give him to 
you for how long? Years? All the days of his 
youth to be given to another?"

"It is the way of our people to foster 
young ones among the great houses, to build 
harmony and trust. You are a king of our 
people as are you, Elrond of Rivendell. There 
are no easy paths for any of us who bear this 
burden. Surely by now, you would know this 
truth."

Celeborn's voice was sharp, the rebuke in it 
clear to both men. They hesitated, turning to 
the great lord and lady. As they did, 
Thranduil's wife rose and moved to stand 
before them.

"All these many years I have longed for detente. 
This way of anger and rage is not the way of our 
people. It has cost us all dearly. However, I 
implore you to consider the cost to my heart of 
the loss of my young boy. Even as he approaches 
the end of his younger days, he is still in many 
ways my child. It would grieve me uncounted to 
lose him for many years at this stage to another. 
Soon the day will come when he will become a man 
and have less need for his mother. I forestall 
the sorrow of that time by his company now."

For a moment it was silent and then Galadriel 
rose, her face filled with understanding and 
pity.

"I too know the loss of a child. My only child, 
my daughter is gone from me oversea and who will 
know how many ages will pass before we can see 
each other again. Your pain I understand in ways 
no man can know. But what we are responsible for 
is greater than our own needs and desires. Your 
son can be a bridge for our people to become 
whole again. For all the pain of separation, 
there is the joy of reunion, not just for you 
but for all our people. Even as I grieve for 
your heart, I implore you to be gracious and 
kind, to give your child to Lord Elrond to heal 
the breach between our people."

She stood before Galadriel, her grief on 
her face and then she composed herself, 
turning to her husband. "The Lord and Lady 
have spoken. What say you, husband?"

Thranduil stood silently, his internal 
emotional firestorm clear to all. It raged 
on his face as he looked from his wife to 
Celeborn to Galadriel and finally to Elrond. 
He stared at Elrond, the anger of centuries 
flashing in his eyes and then he turned to 
Celeborn at last. 

"I would wish to take council on this," he 
said shortly. "It is a step that must not 
be considered in haste."

Celeborn nodded and the two turned, walking 
hand in hand out of the room. Elrond watched 
them go and turned to his in-laws, a frown 
forming on his face.

"That wasn't good," he said finally.

Galadriel chuckled, walking down to where 
he stood, bemused advisors all around him. 
"I think it was a good start, don't you, 
my Lord?" she asked, turning to her husband.

He shook his head, a smile forming on his 
lips. "If you say so, my Lady."

Elrond had to laugh in spite of himself.

***Outside in the courtyard...

Legolas scrambled down from the root and 
rushed to his parents, staring at their 
faces as they walked toward their horses.

"Mount up, Legolas. We're leaving."

He nodded, not daring to ask and joined his 
family and their party, riding with them 
from the hitching area. Through the forest, 
not waiting for Haldir, they rode out of 
Lothlorien. It would be a silent journey 
home, the three of them keeping their own 
council before the explosive arguments 
between his parents would begin in their 
home. Legolas would only wait, his fears 
his own as they shouted their way to a 
decision.

***Arrival at Imladris a month later ...

They rode through the great gate of the city, 
entering the courtyard that led to the house
beyond. He rode beside his father, sitting 
as straight as he could. His eyes flickered 
around, even as he sat affecting indifference 
to the beauty that hit him like a gloved fist 
to the jaw, so great was the effect Rivendell 
had upon him. 

The group dismounted while he and his father 
sat, waiting for the head of the household to 
greet them. Standing in the doorway, Elrond 
noted the tension in the older man. Considering 
he was giving over his son to the care of a man 
he didn't like, Elrond could hardly blame him. 
He stepped forward, Glorfindel and Erestor on 
each side and walked the short distance to 
where the two waited.

Standing on a balcony nearby, watching with
silent interest, Elladan and Elrohir waited. 
They could see through the facade of relaxation 
he wore like a mask the tension in their father 
as he greeted the haughty king of the north
wood. There was an exchange of conversation and 
an invitation to dine. Thranduil declined it 
and Elrond absorbed the insult without comment.

For a moment they just stared at each other, 
neither one giving an inch and then Thranduil 
turned toward his son, a flicker of emotion in 
his eyes. "You will do well here, Legolas. 
Your family is expecting it."

Legolas nodded, swallowing hard. He watched as 
his father directed his men to unload his son's 
things and then he turned back toward Elrond. 
"You have my son for a period of time. I have 
no say in this matter it would appear. I will 
hold you responsible for his safety and his 
well-being."

Elrond nodded, watching the youngster's facade 
crack slightly as the time came for his father 
to leave. He stepped back, allowing the men with 
Thranduil to carry the boy's luggage to the steps 
of the house. They put it down and walked back, 
remounting their horses. For a moment father and 
son whispered to each other and then Thranduil 
turned toward Elrond, a strained look on his face. 
He nodded and then, without a backward glance, 
rode back through the door with his party.

Legolas sat and watched them, swallowing his tears. 
Then he turned and stared at the man who would be 
master of his fate for the next few years. Elrond 
looked at him and then gestured for him to dismount. 
The youth did, revealing nothing of himself in his 
expression and followed the older man inside. They 
entered the house, a marvel of beauty and then 
Elrond turned to him, noting the appearance of his 
sons on the stairway.

"Welcome to Rivendell, Legolas. I am glad to 
have you here. My sons Elladan and Elrohir," he 
said, nodding to each, "will escort you to your 
rooms and when they have helped you settle in, 
then I would like you to come to my study so 
that we may talk together."

Legolas swallowed, his eyes flickering between 
father and sons and then he nodded, silent as 
a statue. Elrond nodded back and turned, walking
away with Glorfindel and Erestor toward the 
center of the house. It was silent a moment and 
then Elladan moved forward, picking up a case. 
He turned and looked at the other two, standing 
quietly as they watched him.

"Come on. Grab something," he said, picking 
up another case. Elrohir did likewise and 
they turned, noting that Legolas hadn't 
moved. "Aren't you going to help here?"

Legolas, filled with conflicting emotions, 
shook his head. "I am a prince from a house 
of princes. I don't carry my own baggage."

"It seems to me that you do already," Elladan 
replied dryly, sliding a case toward the 
reluctant prince with his foot. "My grandfather 
is the evening star. My mother is the daughter 
of the Lady of the Wood, yet I obey my father's 
commands. I would suggest you pick up your 
things and follow us."

The two older boys turned and walked up the 
stairs, not looking back at Legolas. They 
walked along the corridor, snickering about 
the problem they now confronted. When they 
arrived at Legolas' room, they put his things 
down and turned, more than aware that he 
hadn't followed. Elladan sighed, shaking 
his head.

"He's going to be a problem."

Elrohir smiled and walked to the door. "What 
do you want to do about it?"

"Paddle his butt," Elladan said, moving toward 
the door as well. "He's probably still standing 
there. Do you suppose he means it? That he
doesn't do things for himself?"

"I don't know. He's Thranduil's son, right? 
Anything is possible. It might be that he's 
that been catered to."

"He's come to the wrong place for that to 
continue," Elladan said, distaste filling 
his sensibilities. "Father has his hands 
full."

They walked out into the hallway, moving 
toward the stairs. Peering down, they saw 
the youngster standing beside his last 
baggage, arms folded and stubborn look set 
firmly into his fine features. They both 
paused at the top, smiling to each other.

"He's pretty, I'll hand that to him, 
pretty even for an Elf," Elrohir said 
with a smirk.

"I'd love to wipe that smug bastard look 
off of his face," Elladan said, sighing 
softly. 

"Is that all?" Elrohir asked, peering out 
of the corner of his eye at his twin.

"No, but it'll do for now," he sighed, 
moving to walk down the steps. 

They reached the bottom, pausing before him. 
Legolas stared back at them, his eyes as 
stubborn as the set of his chin.

"You need to cooperate. You're esquired here 
to do what my father bids and to learn what 
you need for kingship sake. That means you 
carry your own baggage," Elladan said patiently. 

He looked at Elladan as if he had grown horns. 
"I am the son of a king. I do not carry my own 
baggage."

Elrohir snorted, drawing the disdainful stare 
of the younger boy. "You have as much chance 
of being king of your father's country than I 
have of being Lady of the Wood."

For a moment nothing happened and then Legolas 
launched himself at Elrohir, the two falling to 
the floor in a tangle of arms and legs and 
shouts of rage and surprise. Elladan watched 
for a moment, enjoying the fine spectacle when 
he heard footsteps coming from the general 
direction of his father's retreat. Moving 
hastily, he pulled the youngster off his 
brother, falling to one knee in his struggle 
to hold him. 

Elrohir, maddened by the whole matter, rose up 
and leaped forward, falling into a tangle with 
both boys and when Glorfindel, Erestor and 
Elrond rounded the corner, it was a grand melee, 
Legolas swinging at everything, Elrohir hitting 
his brother in his zest to get at the Mirkwood 
prince and Elladan falling backward, his arms 
around the visitor's slender body.

Elrond stared a moment, shock informing his 
features and then with the two men at his side, 
he waded in, pulling the struggling blond boy 
out of the tangle of his sons. As he did, 
Elrohir rose up maddened and swung on Legolas 
who then ducked, the blow falling straight 
into Elrond's face.

For a moment it was as if time stood still and 
then Elrond staggered, falling backward with a 
thud. He sat stunned, blinking his eyes and 
then lay back, dazed. It was as silent as a 
tomb as Legolas scrambled to his feet, turning 
with clenched fists toward the group standing 
silently before him. For a moment he didn't 
understand and then he looked backward, staring 
with growing fear and loathing at the sight of 
his benefactor laid out on the floor. Turning,
he looked at the others and swallowed. 

Hard.

***Several minutes later ...

Glorfindel chuckled as he handed the cool 
wet cloth to his lord. Watching as Elrond 
gingerly applied it to his eye, he 
considered his words and how much teasing 
the dignity of the Lord of Imladris could 
handle at the moment. Erring on the side 
of caution, he sighed.

"Boys will be boys," he said.

Elrond removed the cloth and stared up at 
one of his oldest friends. "Speak for 
yourself. We were never that foolish."

"No," Glorfindel replied, sitting. "We were 
probably worse."

"I never struck my father," Elrond said, 
sighing deeply. "What has Galadriel and 
Celeborn gotten us into?"

"They have their reasons," Glorfindel replied. 
"Even if they are the only ones who know them."

Elrond rose and peered around the corner of 
the door discreetly. Three youngsters were 
sitting in three different chairs in his 
study, waiting for the ax to fall. He turned 
and walked back, sitting on the edge of his 
bed once more.

"I want to take a spoon to their bottoms but I 
doubt that would be the appropriate response to 
this sort of foolishness for boys that age."

"Probably," Glorfindel agreed with a smile. "I 
think King Thranduil would disapprove if you 
spanked his son."

"Thranduil ..." Elrond scowled and then winced. "I 
fear that we shall rue the day this little one came 
to our doorstep."

"You *would* have an open door policy," Glorfindel 
said, taking the cloth back. He peered at the dark 
bruise that was forming around Elrond's eye. "Your 
son packs a wallop."

"He does. My fault for teaching him how to 
fight."

"True," Glorfindel replied, sighing. "Physician, 
heal thyself."

Elrond chuckled and winced, rising and 
gathering his dignity around him. Walking 
to the door, he entered, three youngsters 
jumping up quickly as he appeared. They 
stood nervously, Elrohir's face a 
desolation. 

"Well, well ..." Elrond sighed, staring at 
them with a stern expression of disapproval. 
"This is a fine way to begin a new alliance."

"I am sorry, Papa," Elrohir said, falling 
back on a more intimate form of salutation 
in his distress. "I didn't mean to hurt 
you."

"Then you meant to hurt someone else? 
Legolas perhaps?"

Elrohir glared at the youngster, who 
glared back as firmly.

"I would like to state that young Legolas 
is here in my household for a purpose and 
deserves by that status and that of his 
rank, respect."

A smile formed on Legolas' lips and Elrond 
was more than aware of it. He turned his 
formidable gaze toward the young prince, 
the smile falling from his lips like 
raindrops. "I also expect that a squire 
in my household will do their part in all 
things. It appears that there is baggage 
of yours in my hall. Since my sons 
carried some of it to your room, I suggest 
that you carry the rest. Unless of course 
you have some valid reason why it is 
undignified for a prince of the North Wood 
to carry baggage and it is not undignified 
for princes of Imladris to do the same."

Smiles flashed on Elladan and Elrohir's face 
until their father's gaze passed by and then 
returned to Legolas. His face was red but he 
lowered his eyes, moving to comply with 
Elrond's demand. When he left and was clomping 
up the stairs, Elladan moved forward, peering 
at his father's eye. Elrohir, ashamed and 
disgusted, held back.

"Are you not going to check the outcome of 
your labors?" Elrond asked, staring at his 
other son.

Elrohir looked at him miserably, blurting 
out emotionally his sorrows. "Are you never 
to forgive me?"

Elrond felt a smile form on his lips. "Are 
you never going to rise above petty bickering 
with a stranger to our household?"

"This is the first time!" Elrohir protested.

Elrond smiled. "Make it the last."

Elrohir sighed and nodded. "I am truly sorry, 
Papa."

"I know. That is why I don't find a big spoon."

Elladan smiled. "You'd have to catch us first."

Elrond arched an eyebrow, turning to the older 
of his sons. "And you don't think I can catch 
you?"

For a moment there was silence and then they 
laughed. "We know you can!" Elladan said, 
snickering. 

On the staircase above them, a sad look on his 
face, Legolas watched. Silently, with a ragged 
sigh, he turned and walked back to his room 
alone.

**********Later that night ...

Dinner was a quiet affair, Legolas sandwiched 
between two visiting Elves from the Gray Havens. 
Ordinarily he would be dazzled at the idea of 
strangers at table bringing news from other 
places, so sheltered and isolated was his 
father's court but he was too homesick to care 
very much. 

This was the longest time he had ever been away 
from home and it bothered him more than he had 
dreaded that it would. He had never been away 
before from the confines of their kingdom and the 
company of one or both of his parents. He even 
missed his brothers, the older boys usually 
having little to do with the bright, handsome 
youngster that was such an afterthought to all 
their lives.

He had grown up close to his mother and idealizing 
his father, a man who was emotionally volatile but 
emotionally distant as well. He wanted to please 
his father more than he wanted to breathe sometimes 
and so he worked hard at the skills that his father 
would notice, most noteworthy his uncanny ability 
with a bow. He was among the finest natural archers 
in his entire kingdom, someone to pit the best 
against in tournaments. 

This was something that his father admired in him 
and when he would compliment the boy, he would 
float in joy over it for days. Now his father was 
far away and he was here, living in the midst of 
the enemies of his family. His grandfather had 
suffered, the Noldor unworthy of his trust and 
he was now stuck among them for a very long time.

Looking at the head of the table, sitting on 
his chair slightly raised above all others, 
he studied as best he could the comptroller 
of his fate. Lord Elrond of Rivendell, the 
Master of Imladris, the names didn't come 
easily to his mind. He was raised on another 
ethos regarding this place and these people
and he felt surrounded and alone.

Elrond was tall, like all Elves were and 
his hair was long and dark. Dark hair was 
not commonly seen in his woods and so the 
idea of it was strange to him. Elrond had 
gray eyes and they seemed to pierce him 
when they looked at each other, dark eyes 
capable of drilling holes through his 
brain. It was almost as if the older man 
could read his mind and even though it was
a possible thing among his kind, Legolas 
felt he could read every syllable, not the 
odd stray thought or the emotional landscape 
of the moment.

It made him feel naked and vulnerable and 
along with that, nervous. He usually wasn't 
nervous unless his brothers had provoked 
him and now he was, sweaty nervous, the kind 
you get before something terrible happens. 
Like at that moment. He reached for his 
glass and missed, knocking it over with his 
hand. 

The glass tipped and red wine spilled, spreading 
like blood across the snow white cloth of the 
table. He watched it with dismay, his cheeks 
flushing with embarrassment as the eyes of all 
fixed upon it. He rose, his napkin falling and 
he stood helplessly. 

Elrond noted his dismay and made a snap decision. 
Reaching out for his own glass, he bumped it and 
it tipped, falling over. He stared at it for a 
moment, drawing attention away from the suffering 
boy and sighed.

"Papa," Elrohir exclaimed with surprise. "You 
spilled your glass."

It was comical, the note of extreme surprise
in his voice as Elrohir witnessed an event 
he had never seen before and before he could 
speak again, Elladan kicked him under the 
table. Elrond rose and took his napkin, 
placing it on the stain. He looked at Legolas, 
the darkly emotional eyes of the youngster upon 
him and he nodded.

Legolas looked around flustered and retrieved 
his napkin, imitating the great lord himself. 
Then all rose and they turned and walked out, 
moving to the balcony beyond. Elrond lingered, 
waiting for all to pass before turning to the 
laggardly boy moving as well. He took him by 
the arm and stopped him, looking into his 
face with kindly eyes.

"Thank you for not letting me be the only 
one to be clumsy tonight," he said louder 
than need be, squeezing Legolas' arm gently. 
He stepped aside and the astonished boy 
passed, moving onto the balcony to listen 
to the singing that was wafting up from 
the valley below. 

Elrond watched him go and stop at the railing, 
staring into the soft night glittering with 
twinkling stars. Waterfalls filled the evening 
with beauty, both visually and melodically and 
they sat or stood, listening and watching for 
hours.

Legolas sat on the railing, unaware of the many 
admiring glances he drew, puzzling over the 
enigma of the lord of this realm. With a sigh, 
he gave himself over to the music of the night,
one more reason to be homesick.

************************************************
c2001 Jan. 15 ]:> TBC
************************************************

************************************************ 
Title: Fortunate Son <2/?> 
Author: Arctapus, Helmboy, ]:> 
Codes: LOTR, Many, R and Up, Non-Au 
Post: Appropriate places 
Disclaimer: This story is mine. The world isn't.  
I imply no copyright infringement by using it. 
 
Summary: See part one for header, summary,  
feedback information, etc. Thank you. ]:> 
************************************************ 
 
Elrond sat at his desk, breakfast behind him and  
the day stretching out like an endless winding  
road. The youngster had joined them, garbed in  
green, a suitable color for him he considered and  
now it was up to Elrond to give him purpose. 
 
He had not been involved in the daily activities  
of a child for a long time, his three more than  
capable now of taking care of their own business.  
His sons often rode out with companions, hunting  
orcs. All his impassioned arguments about the  
futility of this went unheeded between his sons.  
They were avenging their mother, they said.  
Nothing would prevent them from getting even  
with the ones who had taken her from them, they  
said. 
 
He sighed, the power of a mother over sons an  
enormous mystery to him. His own mother was a  
bright star, an ethereal glow set far away, so  
long had it been since he had seen and touched  
her. He could understand his boys emotions even  
if he disapproved of their actions. He feared  
for them, so determined were they to rid Middle  
Earth of orcs that their caution was probably  
not up to his own exacting standards. 
 
Rising, he walked to the door and peered down  
the hallway, waiting for the youngster to  
appear. As he looked out, he noted the child  
sitting on a chair, his hands folded in his  
lap. Startled, he looked at the boy and noted  
once again his great beauty. 
 
"Legolas ... why are you sitting out here?" 
 
He rose and stared at the floor. "I am awaiting  
your call, my Lord." 
 
"You were asked to come. You do not need my  
leave to enter this room," Elrond said gently. 
 
Legolas shrugged. "It is the order of my father  
that I follow. I do not know what your household  
demands." 
 
Elrond felt a warmth flow through him as he  
stared at the unhappy youngster. "Then it is my  
duty to instruct you. Come inside." 
 
The boy turned and walked in, staring around  
the book-lined room with its tables and chairs,  
beckoning their comfort. It was a man's room,  
filled with things that interested its master  
and he was filled with curiosity in spite of  
himself. He turned and waited for Elrond to  
give him leave to sit. 
 
Elrond sighed internally, gesturing for the boy  
to sit and he did, waiting tensely for  
instructions. Elrond sat across from him, studying  
the fine features of the youngster. He was a very  
young person, at an age among Elves that was  
torturous to determine without asking. At some  
point in time wisdom accumulates and one can sense  
age. But at the age of this one, it was as if one  
were staring at a bud on a limb, rather than a  
fully formed leaf. 
 
"Tell me about yourself, son of Thranduil," he  
asked, his sonorous voice soft and gentle.  
 
The boy looked up, deeply blue eyes meeting  
Elrond's and his face was featured in surprise. 
 
"Myself, my Lord?" 
 
"Yes," Elrond said smiling as he settled back in  
the couch. "I would be interested in knowing  
about you, what you like, what you aren't fond  
of, that sort of thing. I know nothing at all  
about you but that you are the apple of your  
mother's eye." 
 
For a moment he looked close to tears and then  
he looked down at his hands, gathering himself.  
"My mother is wonderful," he whispered. 
 
"Mothers are, Legolas," Elrond replied gently.  
 
"My mother is a good rider," Legolas said, raising  
his eyes once more. "She can ride anything. And  
she's good with a bow." 
 
"She's a remarkable woman, so I am told. Her  
beauty surpasses what I have heard." 
 
Legolas smiled slightly. "They say that I take  
after her." 
 
"I can see it," Elrond said, nodding. The boy was  
most like her, the hard edge of his father nowhere  
to be found on his fair face. Elrond sighed, drawn  
to the perfection of his features, the habit of  
turning toward beautiful things honed over a  
lifetime. 
 
"My father is a good man," Legolas said, a defensive  
tone in his voice. 
 
"It has always grieved me that there has been a  
divide between us. It is not what I wished," Elrond  
said, watching as the boy struggled to contain all  
he wanted to say. Finally, he sighed, staring at his  
hands again.  
 
"I like to ride. I am very good with a bow and I  
like to swim." 
 
"Those are all favored here in Imladris. If you wish  
companions for such things, it can be arranged. I  
admire proficiency with arms. I have taught my sons  
and daughter to be able with such things. I would be  
glad to see your prowess with bow and arrow. I have  
belief that it is great." 
 
A flicker of a smile formed on the perfect lips and  
was gone as quickly. The golden head merely nodded.  
"It would be my pleasure, my Lord." 
 
Elrond smiled. "What do you like to read?" 
 
Legolas looked up, staring around the room. "I like  
all manner of books. I especially like histories,  
the events of the past of our people." 
 
"You are given leave to read any book in my house.  
They are mostly here and the great library beyond,  
rows and rows, many ancient and written by those  
who participated in the events noted therein." 
 
"That would be wonderful," Legolas replied, catching  
his enthusiasm. He blinked and nodded. "Thank you." 
 
"I am pleased that books matter to you, young Legolas.  
Many young men are occupied by things other than  
learning. Ladies become important all too quickly  
to many." 
 
Legolas leaned back, wrinkling his nose. "Fair ladies  
are fine enough but I am not interested in them." 
 
"That time will come in due course," Elrond said,  
amused by the youngster's firmness. 
 
"Perhaps, but I think not," Legolas said, staring at  
the desk nearby, its contents interesting to him.  
 
"Tell me of your life at home," Elrond asked, enjoying  
the company of the boy before him. He was surpassingly  
fair and as such an object worthy of study, for all  
Elves quested for beauty, the contemplation of which  
was restful and fulfilling. 
 
He shrugged, a pang of homesickness rising through  
him. "I would study with my tutor and work with my  
fencing instructor. I would ride through the forest  
with my friends and family. I love the green wood.  
I love hunting through it, finding new things ...  
I love the forests around my home." 
 
"What did you think of Lothlorien?" Elrond asked,  
studying the moods that flashed over the boy's face  
like storm clouds over a summer sky. 
 
"They were wonderful!" he said, admiration for the  
great trees there overcoming his reserve. "I loved  
them. You could almost hear their voices." 
 
"Have you ever heard their voices, Legolas?" Elrond  
asked. 
 
Legolas sat a moment and then sighed sadly. "No, my  
Lord. I would give anything to hear them." 
 
"Perhaps that won't be such an impossible desire,"  
Elrond said, smiling. "Anything is possible in the  
world." 
 
Legolas looked at him, the natural inclination for  
him to hate the man before him faltering under the  
assault of his charm and interest. The idea of a  
man of such stature being interested in him was a  
stunning revelation and he wondered what would  
prompt such an thing. 
 
"You are a man of great authority and power. Surely  
you have things that must beckon you." 
 
Elrond smiled, shrugging. "Things can wait. You have  
my full attention." 
 
The youngster stared at Elrond, suddenly feeling  
vulnerable. He sat back, withdrawing himself as  
best he could. 
 
"Do you walk?" 
 
Legolas blinked. "Walk, my Lord?" 
 
"Do you hike trails? Mountains?" Elrond asked. 
 
"I love to hike," he answered, watching as the tall 
figure rose, turning and walking to his desk. 
 
Elrond unclasped his outer robe and shrugged it  
off, draping it over his desk. He turned, noting  
the expectation on the youngster's face. "Let's 
go for a walk." 
 
Legolas rose, moving toward the door with his  
benefactor. Together, they walked outside and down  
the staircase to the front door. Elrond nodded to  
people, smiling and then stepped outside into the  
bright sunshine of morning. Legolas followed,  
moving side-by-side with the lord of all that he  
surveyed. They walked together and out of the gate,  
heading for the countryside of the great valley of  
the Bruinen. 
 
Standing on a balcony, staring at them as they went,  
Elladan and Elrohir watched with curiosity. 
 
***Inside the house ... 
 
Glorfindel walked toward the back door, heading for  
the stable and the horses that he was supervising  
in their training. As he passed the corridor leading 
to the library, he heard voices bantering. Pausing,  
he crept closer and listened, amusement filling him.  
Elladan and Elrohir was talking together and the  
subject was the chief topic among all lately, Prince  
Legolas of Mirkwood. 
 
"I think they look well together," Elrohir was saying,  
his voice taunting and teasing as he so obviously  
needled his brother.  
 
Elladan turned toward Elrohir, a disgusted frown on  
his face. "That boy is younger than you and I. I  
would be careful how much you spread this new theory  
of yours around. People will be much scandalized over  
such things as you just expressed." 
 
"Why? Because our father is smitten? Or because the  
object of his lust is a fair young thing?" 
 
Elladan stopped and turned, fixing his twin with a  
jaundiced eye. "You have no class. For a man with  
the sire that you have, you are a classless thing." 
 
They heard a snort and turned to see Glorfindel laugh,  
his arms folded in front of him. They smirked to each  
other.  
 
"The walls have ears," Elladan said, making his point.  
Elrohir moved past him, pausing by the older man.  
 
"Tell me, my Lord, what say you to my thoughts? Is  
my father infatuated or no?" 
 
Glorfindel stared at them, at the intensity of their  
gaze and turned. "Uh, no. Do not ask me such things  
about one so dear to me." 
 
He turned and walked toward the backdoor, clearing  
the house as the two caught up to him, one on each  
side. Elladan sighed as he watched his brother's  
mirth. 
 
"You think so too!" Elrohir said, laughing.  
 
They entered the stables, the three moving to a  
doorway that led to a paddock. Three wondrous horses  
stood there, sunning themselves in the warm morning  
air. They all paused, caught by their beauty and  
then Elrohir began again. 
 
"Tell me I am not right," he said, snickering at  
Elladan's discomfort. "Tell me." 
 
Glorfindel paused, turning a wry expression on the  
persistent youngster. "You try the patience of a  
saintly person ... such as myself." 
 
Elrohir snorted and glanced at Elladan, himself  
enraptured by the horses still. "You tell me by  
not telling me, the truth of my question. I  
thank you." 
 
Glorfindel glanced at him, slipping inside the  
paddock proper. "You flatter yourself, my friend, 
with the depth of your insight. I am as still  
water, unknown and unknowable." 
 
Even Elladan snorted at that, smiling at Glorfindel  
as he chuckled to himself. He walked to the horses,  
touching them with his hands. Gentling them with  
softly whispered words, the elf-horses listened,  
their ears flicked forward. Soft nickers met him as  
he spent time with them in their enclosure. Elladan  
and Elrohir watched, admiring once again the skill  
of their elder. 
 
"What do you think, Elladan? Do you think Father  
is enamored? I don't get premonitions often but  
this feels so." 
 
Elladan turned his dark gaze on his brother, the  
mirror of their faces reflecting against each  
other. "I don't know. I hope not. Father doesn't  
need any more suffering. Besides, it would bring  
dishonor to involve himself with an esquired boy." 
 
"So," Elrohir countered, sighing. "When was the  
last time you saw him do something for himself?" 
 
They both thought a moment and then Elladan  
sighed. "You do realize, brother, that he has a  
duty to train this boy and make him fit for  
kingship. That might be the only reason he  
stares at him so, the burden of his many and  
varied responsibilities." 
 
Elrohir turned his face toward his brother,  
smiling in spite of himself. "Yes, and I will  
become the next Lady of the Wood." 
 
Elladan didn't miss a beat. "I have always known  
of that. It came to me years ago in a dream--" 
 
He never got farther in his statement. 
 
***On the trail... 
 
They walked along, following a path many had taken  
to the higher lands that surrounded the valley.  
Snowcapped mountains stared down at them, their  
dazzling white summits sparkling in the bright  
light of midmorning.  
 
Elrond pointed out the flowers that grew in shadow  
and light, the names of small rivulets of fast  
flowing water and the points of interest that spread  
out in all directions around them. It was wondrously 
beautiful and Legolas became lost in the sites and  
smells around him, the scent of pines running sap  
adding a fragrance that was indescribable to their  
passage. 
 
They walked on, snatches of the valley below coming  
into view when trees allowed and they could see the  
spires of Rivendell below. They moved to a rocky  
outcrop and Elrond sat on a large granite boulder,  
watching the youngster as he looked all around. 
 
"It's beautiful." 
 
Elrond smiled. "It was so when we first came here.  
I love this valley." 
 
"Your city is beautiful in a way I have never seen  
a place be." Legolas turned and stared at him. "You  
have created a wonderful place." 
 
Elrond smiled. "It is what I remember in some ways  
from my childhood in older times and in some ways  
it is not. I like to think that the best of the past 
and present intermingle here." 
 
"My father's house is different. We have a mountain  
fastness." 
 
"I have seen it. It is a much airier place than one  
would think carved from stone the way it is." 
 
Legolas nodded, moving to sit on the boulder. He  
drew up his legs, crossing them gracefully. He stared  
into the valley below. "The river twists and turns  
like a snake. It seems so small. I have never lived  
in a place with so many waterfalls." 
 
"The water is restful. My house is restful." 
 
"I noted that. I slept well," Legolas said, turning  
his blue eyes on the figure next to him." 
 
"That's good," Elrond said, smiling. 
 
Legolas paused and rose, walking to the edge of the  
cliff side. He turned and looked at Elrond. "Last  
night ... when your glass tipped, did it do so of  
its own accord or was it helped thus?" 
 
Elrond smiled slightly, watching as the boy stared  
at his ground, nervous to broach a subject that  
brought such embarrassment. "I cannot say." 
 
Legolas smiled slightly, looking at him directly.  
"It was fortuitous." 
 
Elrond smiled. "Sometimes things happen that way." 
 
He stared at the ground and then stepped forward,  
his expression filled with questions. Finally,  
after a deep breath, he sat down again. "You are  
not what I expected." 
 
Elrond nodded, waiting. "No?" 
 
"No," Legolas replied, shaking his head. "I was  
afraid to come here. I was afraid to be in your  
house, to be under your control. I ..." 
 
"You have been told things," Elrond prompted. 
 
"Yes," Legolas whispered, blushing brightly. He  
rubbed his cheek with an elegant hand. "I'm sorry." 
 
Elrond shrugged. "You are a young man away from home.  
You have to live in the house of someone your father  
has grudges against. What are you supposed to feel?" 
 
Legolas looked at him. "I don't feel as terrible  
today as I did yesterday." 
 
Elrond laughed and nodded. "You might feel terrible  
tomorrow. Homesickness is nothing to underestimate.  
But I'm glad that you came. I hope you will enjoy  
the time you are here." 
 
Legolas framed a slight smile on his face, sighing  
as he glanced toward the hills beyond. "It is  
beautiful and the Lady and Lord of the Lorien Wood  
wish this to be. I have to find a way to be happy  
here." 
 
Elrond nodded. "You will." 
 
Legolas stared at the river below, winding along its  
ageless track. The sun was warm and the company  
surprisingly comfortable. Elrond sat a moment, studying  
his profile, then he rose. Legolas rose with him,  
waiting expectantly.  
 
"I know a place with good berries. They stain the  
fingers but they're worth the effort." 
 
Legolas smiled. Elrond felt the sunshine permeate him  
as the two turned and walked off the track into the  
grassy meadow beyond. He had not been here in a long 
time, the idea of just going someplace without  
purpose something he had not considered in ages.  
 
Things waited for him, things that needed doing but  
he decided as they crossed a running streamlet that  
they would wait. Right now there were berries to  
pick and a boy to make welcome. Nothing else had  
higher priority in his mind. 
 
************************************************ 
c2001 Jan. 18 ]:> TBC 
************************************************

************************************************ 
Title: Fortunate Son <3/?> 
Author: Arctapus, Helmboy, ]:> 
Codes: LOTR, Many, R and Up, Non-Au 
Post: Appropriate places 
Disclaimer: This story is mine. The world isn't.  
I imply no copyright infringement by using it. 
 
See part one for all other information. Thank you. 
************************************************ 
 
***Later that afternoon ... 
 
"You have purple fingers." 
 
Elrond looked up from his book, meeting the  
smiling eyes of Glorfindel. He stood before him,  
a bottle of wine and two glasses in his hand.  
Elrond smirked and nodded. 
 
"A hazard to be borne of berry pickers everywhere." 
 
Glorfindel set the glasses on the table and uncorked  
the bottle, filling the tall goblets with a clear  
liquid. He handed one to Elrond and raised his in  
salute, sitting comfortably in the arm chair across  
from him. Elrond returned the salute and savored a  
sip, sighing with pleasure. 
 
"A good vintage," he mentioned, casting a bemused  
eye to his friend. 
 
"Only use a good vintage to celebrate." 
 
"Celebrate what, may I ask?" Elrond asked, peering  
over the rim of his glass. 
 
"The lessening of tension caused by the son of  
Thranduil." Glorfindel dragged out the last  
syllable of the Mirkwood Lord's name, grinning at  
the sound of it. "That young man has always  
annoyed me. He's rather like his father was." 
 
"I'm not sure anyone was like Oropher. He is  
rather one in a million I would estimate." 
 
"Was," Glorfindel reminded him. "As in past  
tense." 
 
Elrond sighed. "That's true. It didn't have to  
be that way." 
 
"It had to," Glorfindel countered. "After all,  
he was a grown man and in full control of his  
faculties. Or so we believed." 
 
"We were all mad in those days." Elrond sighed,  
visions of lost friends filling his mind. "I miss  
a lot of people lost in battles I can barely  
remember." 
 
"As do I," Glorfindel agreed. "This boy ... what do  
you make of him?" 
 
"He's lonely," Elrond said. "He's lonely for  
attention from someone he can admire. His father  
doesn't appear to know what a jewel he has in  
this child." 
 
"How old do you suppose this boy is?" Glorfindel  
mused, the conversation with Elrohir flashing  
into memory. 
 
"It is hard to say. I believe that he is near or  
at legal age for separation from family but he has  
been raised rather as a hot house flower. He has  
many attributes of a grown man and many of a  
vulnerable boy." 
 
"Nice combination, especially the vulnerable part,"  
Glorfindel tested, staring over the rim of his  
glass, his feet propped up on a foot stool.  
 
Elrond shot him a jaundiced eye. "What do you  
suppose that means? In your mind's eye?" 
 
Glorfindel smirked, sighing dramatically. "What does  
it mean? Oh ... a number of things." 
 
"Such as?" Elrond asked, staring at the fading dye  
of fruit juice on his fingers.  
 
"It might mean that he's amenable to the attentions  
of another, perhaps a man of the world, a man who  
might find in his company good pleasure." 
 
Elrond glanced at his friend with a frown of disgust.  
"You have an active imagination. My role is clearly  
defined. I am to foster this child and help him  
achieve that which his father desires, to become a  
figure of responsibility and dependability, well 
educated and skilled in the kingly arts." 
 
"That is so," Glorfindel responded. "He's also a  
lonely boy, someone who might find the attentions  
of an older man compatible to raising his sense of  
happiness." 
 
"He is unhappy in your estimation?" Elrond asked,  
arching an eyebrow. 
 
"Not so much this morning as last night and yesterday.  
He is actually cooperating with his chores as we speak.  
That is a great improvement over times before. By the  
way, how is your black eye?" 
 
Elrond snorted, grinning in spite of himself. "You are  
very glib today. What brings this rather unwelcome  
side of your otherwise unremarkable personality to the  
fore?" 
 
Glorfindel chuckled. "You have a piercing tongue, my  
lord." He smirked. "Perhaps the truth of what I say  
makes me bold." 
 
Elrond sighed and put his feet on the footstool, 
the warmth of the fire agreeable. "He is very beautiful.  
I cannot imagine having a son such as this one and not  
being more a father to his heart. Thranduil is a cold  
one." 
 
Glorfindel nodded and was about to speak when Erestor  
entered the room. He was wet from the neck down and  
tracking puddles behind him. The expression of outrage  
on his face was priceless. 
 
"My, Erestor, you appear to be soaking wet. How did  
this happen?" Glorfindel asked, grinning broadly.  
 
Erestor ignored him, moving closer, his fists clenched  
in rage. "Mind your tongue," he said, with a growl.  
"My lord, you *must* talk to that boy!" 
 
Elrond set his glass down and rose, suppressing a  
chuckle as he stared at his seneschal. "What  
happened to you, Erestor?" 
 
He took a deep breath, brushing his dark hair back.  
"We were washing horses, a simple task, and that boy  
was laggardly. I asked him to bring a pail of water  
to wash soap off a stallion. He did and when he  
pitched it the water fell upon me." 
 
For a moment there was no sound and then Elrond  
sighed deeply, quashing the urge to laugh with 
great effort. Swallowing hard, he nodded. "Where  
is he now?" 
 
"He is up a tree." 
 
Glorfindel choked off a strangled laugh, drawing  
the poisoned glance of Erestor. Elrond drew himself  
up and nodded. 
 
"I will deal with this myself." 
 
He turned and left, Glorfindel rising. "Come. Let's 
watch. This could be interesting." 
 
Erestor turned and followed Glorfindel, rounding  
the corner as Elrond's back disappeared down the  
stairs. They followed him, moving up a side  
staircase to a balcony over the kitchen. Moving  
through the household crew, they stepped out and  
watched, discretely shaded by a tree.  
 
Elrond walked into the courtyard, looking in the  
tall trees for his missing boy. Horses were tied  
to hitching posts, their baths interrupted.  
Nearby, brushing a horse and pretending not to  
notice him, Elrohir and Elladan worked.  
 
Elrond noted them, their intense but distracted  
eyes and made a mental note to interrogate them  
later. Walking past a stallion, patting its  
flank and searching, he spotted a sad figure  
sitting in the broad branches of a tall tree.  
 
Pausing underneath, he called up softly. "Legolas,  
come down please." 
 
The boy didn't move, turning his face away as he  
sat miserably in the tall cool branches. Elrond  
stared at him, considering his options and then  
he did the only thing that he felt he could under  
the circumstances. He shucked his robe and  
gripped a branch, climbing up the tree until he  
was sitting on a branch opposite of Legolas. 
 
The youngster stared at him astonished, intensely  
surprised to see him. Elrond smiled, more than a  
little surprised at himself. 
 
"Did you think I've never climbed a tree before?"  
he asked gently. 
 
Legolas looked at him, tears brimming in his  
eyes. "I ... " 
 
Elrond leaned back against the trunk, shaking  
his head. "It appears, son of Thranduil, that  
things are not working well for you today. Come  
down from here and let us settle our problem.  
Even though this is a good place from all  
indications," he said, looking around, "your  
problem is still down there waiting for you." 
 
"I didn't mean to." 
 
"Mean to douse him or ..." 
 
Legolas looked at him for a minute and shook  
his head, suddenly unable to talk to his  
benefactor.  
 
"You should feel free to talk to me," Elrond  
said with a sigh. "I am not going to bite." 
 
Legolas sat a moment and then he straightened.  
"I am the son of a king. Washing horses is not  
what a king's son does." 
 
"Ah," Elrond said. "It appears that your father's  
ideals of kingship and mine are at odds." It was  
silent a moment. "A king is someone who must bear  
a great burden, they must give up much to be all  
for their people. A king is not much good without  
humility, Legolas. A king must never show their  
people that what they do themselves is beneath  
them. All work is honorable." 
 
"But washing horses," Legolas said. "Servitude  
is not what my father says a king must do." 
 
"What is a king but a servant?" Elrond countered  
gently. "What is the greatest goal of a king's  
life than to serve his people well? A king must  
never be afraid to roll up their sleeves, to  
show by example that what his people does is  
important. Not all history is forged by the  
greatest in stature. Even the smallest people  
can make change. All that you learn, even in  
menial tasks prepares you to be the servant  
of your people." 
 
"You would wash horses?" Legolas asked, surprised.  
 
"Of course. Why wouldn't I?" Elrond asked.  
 
Their gazes met and held, the youngster thinking  
over Elrond's words. He sighed. "This is a strange  
place and you are strange to me, my Lord. I don't  
know what to think sometimes." 
 
"I know," Elrond said, looking down at the ground.  
"Going to a high vantage point can help the thought  
processes a great deal." He smiled. "I think you  
need to come down, apologize and finish your job.  
A king without humility is a worthless thing." 
 
Legolas sighed, closing his eyes in misery. Then  
he nodded and following Elrond, climbed down from 
the tree. Glorfindel and Erestor watched,  
exchanging glances and turned, hurrying downstairs  
and out into the back courtyard. Legolas and Elrond  
walked toward them, Elrond pulling on his robe  
once more. They paused, Legolas standing before  
Erestor, pale and miserable. 
 
"I am sorry, my Lord, for my carelessness. I am  
sorry for the shame I have brought upon myself." 
 
Erestor looked at Elrond and then the boy, his  
features relaxing into a slight smile. "Your  
apology is accepted." 
 
Legolas sighed and looked at Elrond, greatly  
relieved.  
 
"You must continue your tasks," Elrond said  
gently. "Your kingdom is depending upon you to  
be the man you must be some day." 
 
Legolas nodded and turned, walking back to the  
horses. Elrond watched and turned to the two  
men. "I assume you watched?" 
 
"I wasn't aware you could still climb a tree,"  
Glorfindel said, chuckling. 
 
Elrond straightened, donning his dignity along  
with his robe. "You have forgotten much, my dear  
Glorfindel. I do recall that you could never  
best me at the sport." 
 
Elrond moved on, walking into the house.  
Glorfindel smiled, shaking his head. "He was  
very fast as I recall, especially when someone  
was after him for being naughty." 
 
"I would have loved to see that," Erestor said  
with a sigh, watching the young prince as he  
washed the stallion. He looked down at his own  
clothes, a frown forming on his lips. "Will you  
stay here until I change?" 
 
Glorfindel nodded, smiling. "Wild horses couldn't  
drive me away." 
 
Erestor shot him a poisoned look and walked into  
the house. Glorfindel walked to where Elladan and  
Elrohir pretended to work and leaned against the  
fence. The boys moved closer, stealing glances  
at the industrious youngster beyond them. 
 
"I have never seen Father climb a tree before,"  
Elrohir said, awe in his voice. 
 
Glorfindel chuckled. "That is probably not the  
only first you shall see before this one leaves  
us to go home." 
 
Elladan nodded. "I will not dispute that with you.  
Nothing will surprise me with this one." 
 
***Later on in the afternoon ... 
 
He stood at the counter, kneading dough. Erestor,  
changed and standing beside him, watched with a  
critical eye. They had finished the horses and  
cleaned the barn, soaping and caring for harness  
and saddles. Once in the kitchen washroom, they  
had cleaned their hands and walking through the  
kitchen proper, Erestor noticed a big bowl of  
bread dough about ready to be kneaded. 
 
"That looks ready. Have you ever made bread?" 
 
Legolas shook his head, completely unaware of how  
things were made since that part of his education  
was sorely neglected in his own household. Erestor  
smiled slightly and turned, tossing a handful of  
flour out onto the stone table the bowl sat on.  
Legolas watched him as he punched the big round  
mound of white dough in the middle. It hissed and  
he grinned. 
 
"You do it. It's good for the soul." 
 
Legolas moved closer and punched the dough, grinning  
as it flattened strangely under his touch. Erestor  
dumped the bowl out and tore the dough into two large  
pieces. Taking more flour, he shoved a big piece  
toward Legolas.  
 
"Watch me and do what I do." 
 
With skilled hands, he began to knead the dough,  
adding small amounts of flour as he worked. Legolas  
copied him, over and over turning the dough as he  
worked out the gas that had made it bulge in the  
bowl. 
 
"It's harder than it looks," he said, grinning at  
Erestor. 
 
"All the good things are, my friend," Erestor said,  
smiling. 
 
They worked together side by side and as they  
prepared the bread, Erestor taught the youngster  
how to braid it. They worked on the loaves and  
then put it to one side, Erestor checking the  
oven. 
 
"I will let the cook know about this bread and  
when its done we shall have it for dinner." 
 
Legolas nodded, grinning at his accomplishment.  
Sitting on the top of the braided loaf was a  
leaf that he had fashioned, placing it just  
so. He looked at his hands, the grime of flour  
thick on his fingers. Erestor smiled. 
 
"There is nothing wrong with labor. It's what  
makes a man strong. If things come too easily,  
what is there to look forward to?" 
 
Legolas considered his words and followed him  
to the sink. They washed themselves and then  
Erestor looked at the tall youngster beside  
him. 
 
"I think it's time to explore the pool in the  
glade nearby." 
 
"The pool?" Legolas asked, walking out the door  
with the older man. 
 
"Yes," Erestor said with a smile. "It's the  
finest swimming hole on the river." 
 
Legolas smiled broadly and accompanied his master  
down the walkway while on a balcony nearby, Elrond 
watched. He paused in his work, stepping out to  
watch a song bird on a nearby branch. The step of  
the duo was lighter and he could see that they were  
heading down to the pool nearby that was a swimming  
hole for the locals. He sighed, wishing the freedom 
to join them but his dignity had taken enough blows  
lately. 
 
Legolas hurried along behind Erestor, their voices  
a faint echo in the warm spring air. He was happy  
it appeared, a welcomed relief over the sorrows of  
morning and he wondered about the boy, at his  
changeable heart. 
 
With a lighter step of his own, he turned and walked  
back to his study to work. 
 
************************************************ 
c2001 Jan. 15 ]:> TBC 
************************************************

************************************************ 
Title: Fortunate Son <4/?> 
Author: Arctapus, Helmboy, ]:> 
Codes: LOTR, Many, R and Up, Non-Au 
Post: Appropriate places 
Disclaimer: This story is mine. The world isn't. I  
imply no copyright infringement by using it. 
 
See part one for all other information. Thank you. 
************************************************ 
 
***At dinner that night ... 
 
They ate together, the mood lighter and  
when the bread was served it was much  
remarked upon. Legolas sat quietly, secretly  
desperately pleased and when dinner was over,  
the Lord of the Manor asked him to walk with  
him. Elladan and Elrohir watched them go,  
wine glasses in hand. They rose and walked  
to the balcony, noting the full moon rising  
over the mountain peaks beyond. 
 
Their father and the boy walked down the  
winding steps in the direction of the tidal  
pool. Sighing slightly, Elrohir shook his  
head. "I don't know. I think Father likes  
that young one beyond his duties as a  
fostering lord." 
 
"He feels responsible for him," Elladan  
explained patiently. "He feels the burden 
of his responsibility. There is a lot of  
difference in the two." 
 
"There is a way to test your notion, Elladan,"  
Elrohir said, a twinkle entering his eye.  
 
"Why am I afraid to listen to you further?  
What form of devilry have you in mind?" he  
asked, his eyes narrowing warily as he gazed  
at his younger brother. 
 
Elrohir shrugged, looking away, noting that  
the two had disappeared into the shadows. "If  
you feel that way, I shan't tell you." 
 
Elladan sighed, shaking his head. "Now I  
suppose that I'm supposed to beg you to  
tell me thus." 
 
Elrohir looked at him with a hurt expression.  
"You wound me, brother." 
 
"I will wound you if you trifle with me. I  
am short of patience with this topic." 
 
Elrohir snorted. "Consider ... *if* Father  
cares for this boy more than just a man  
would love his squire, then it can be  
tested. If one of us pursued this youngster  
... if one of us *wooed* him, then it would  
tell on Father's face. It would be proof  
certain that he did or didn't have feelings  
of love for this boy." 
 
Elladan sighed deeply. "You really are a demon  
spawn. I do know for certain that all the  
devilry possible between two matched souls was  
given to you." 
 
"Tell me you would find it hard duty," Elrohir  
needled. "He is very pretty. You said so  
yourself." 
 
"You would trifle with a person's heart  
to prove a point?" Elladan said, frowning  
at his twin. 
 
"It wouldn't be trifling. It would be ..." 
 
"Trifling." 
 
They were silent a moment and then Elladan  
sighed again. "I suppose you wish me to woo  
him just to prove or disprove your point." 
 
"He won't accept my court. I tried to punch  
his nose. From you, perhaps." 
 
"If he can tell us apart," Elladan groused. 
He turned and set his glass on the balcony,  
considering Elrohir's words. "What if Father  
cares for him in his own fashion? He is no  
longer ..." Elladan paused. "Mother has  
been gone a long time. What if he's lonely?" 
 
Elrohir considered his brother's pained  
expression. "We already know he's lonely. I  
want to know if he's preparing to harm  
himself, entering an emotional state of  
longing for the son of his worst enemy.  
You know and I do that this can only end  
for naught." 
 
Elladan nodded, turning and staring into the  
darkness. "Wooing would be hard, this one is  
so tough. But wooing indeed if it proves to  
us what is true. And if it is? If Father is  
infatuated with him? What then for you,  
Elrohir?" 
 
"I don't know," he answered quietly, turning  
and staring into the darkness as well. "I  
haven't figured that part out yet." 
 
***At riverside... 
 
They stood together, staring at the moon  
overhead. It was a large spring moon, not  
quite full and its light made all things  
around them soft with a silver glow. Elrond  
stared at the stars, looking for the one  
that had special meaning for his family and  
when he did, he chanced a gaze at Legolas. 
 
The youngster was about his height, slim in  
a deceptive sort of way youths sometimes have,  
the figure of health and athleticism. He was 
intoxicatingly beautiful, his profile  
perfection and Elrond turned away, finding  
lesser things to focus his mind upon. 
 
It bothered him, this fixation on his outward  
charms because the boy was troubled, unschooled  
in the ways of the world and someone he had to  
take care with beyond the fact that he was the  
son of his worst enemy. He was lonely and  
looking for someone to look up to and if he  
wasn’t careful things could become difficult. 
 
The water rushed by, swirling in the dark  
pool before them.  
 
“I am told that you swam here today.” 
 
Legolas smiled. “I did. The water is very  
cold. It was refreshing after working in  
the stables.” 
 
“The bread was very good. I liked your  
decoration.” 
 
He grinned, flushing slightly in spite of  
himself. “I had never done that before.” 
 
“Work can be rewarding,” Elrond replied,  
grinning slightly.  
 
“So Erestor tells me.” He considered the  
stone next to his boot and turned, gazing 
at the silent figure before him. “You are  
a different lord to me, something I have  
never seen before.” 
 
Elrond considered the boy’s forthright  
gaze. “In what way?” 
 
“You are informal, but terrible in your  
majesty. I think that Lord Celeborn and  
you are much alike but I do not see him  
climbing a tree.” 
 
Elrond snorted and chuckled. “Nor do I,  
though I will not hand it past him that  
he can, and do it well.” 
 
Legolas smiled. “You are easy to talk to.  
I didn’t expect that.” 
 
Elrond nodded, watching the expressions  
pass over the boy’s handsome face. “I am  
the father of sons.” 
 
Legolas’ expression fell a bit. “Your sons  
do not like me.” 
 
“They don’t know you well yet. Give them  
time and they will love you.” 
 
Legolas looked at him, his expression  
becoming shy. “I don’t know.” 
 
“You have never been away from home before,  
have you.” Elrond stated it rather than  
asked, noting the confirmation on the  
youngster’s face. 
 
“No. Not far. Going to Lothlorien was an  
adventure for me. I want them,” he said,  
turning and facing the older man. “I want  
adventures, lots of them, and I want to  
see things, big trees and other shores.” 
 
Elrond smiled. “Those are worthy goals.” 
 
He shrugged, sighing. “My father wants me  
near to home.” 
 
“Do you tell him your dreams?” Elrond asked. 
 
Legolas tucked his braid behind an ear, a  
thing that struck Elrond as enchanting and 
he watched the youngster as he bent down and  
picked up a rock. He skipped it out,  
considering Elrond’s question. 
 
“No.” He sighed, glancing at Elrond slightly.  
“My father is a busy man. I don’t always have  
his ear.” 
 
Elrond nodded, secretly hating Thranduil.  
“Men with responsibilities sometimes forget  
that they extend to their children.” 
 
“Did you ever forget yours?” Legolas asked,  
his eyes staring at Elrond with intensity. 
 
“No,” Elrond said, shaking his head. “I am  
their parent, their sole parent. I have a  
responsibility to them that transcends most  
things. I hold them dear.” 
 
Legolas stared at him and then looked away,  
staring at the moon. “The moon here is very  
big. I know it is the same moon that shines  
over my home in the great wood but it seems  
different in the sky now. I never considered  
that my father is looking at this moon in  
another place while I am here.” 
 
Elrond listened to the wistfulness of  
Legolas’ words and felt emotion rising.  
“The world is big. The moon looks down  
on all of us equally.” 
 
“That is so,” Legolas said, turning and  
looking at him. “I could never say so to  
my father. I find that strange. Things  
that I say to you, no matter how  
disjointed they may seem, I can say them.” 
 
“That’s good,” Elrond said. “I hope you feel  
that this is so tomorrow and the next day.”  
 
“Tomorrow I have to help Erestor count things.” 
 
Elrond snorted and chuckled. “Ah, the life of  
a seneschal is not an exciting one but without  
him my household would grind to a halt.” 
 
Legolas smiled in spite of himself. “It would  
seem so.” He looked at Elrond, the light of  
the moon haloing around him. “When do I do  
things that are more exciting? A squire is  
supposed to support their lord in fields of  
combat and other exciting things. I’ve washed  
horses and made bread.” 
 
“That is what a squire does between wars,”  
Elrond said laughing. “I’m sorry to tell  
you that but a squire’s life is filled  
with quiet futility.” 
 
Legolas smiled, a beautiful thing. “I was  
afraid you would say that.” 
 
Elrond laughed and then turned, moving along  
the path. For the next two hours they would  
walk along the river and talk. By the time  
they got back, it would be time to turn in  
before the start of another new day. 
 
***Far away ... 
 
She stood at the window, staring at the moon  
in the sky. She had said her prayers, praying  
to Elbereth to keep her son well until he  
came back to her. It was empty, her home,  
and she missed him with an intensity that  
tore at her heart. He was her last child,  
the one unexpected and it was terrible to  
her not to have him home. 
 
He had never been away from her more than the  
length of a day or two and then always in the  
company of their own people. She missed talking  
to him, the long conversations they would have  
together and she missed his beautiful smile. 
 
Thranduil had retired, falling into bed after  
a hard day. She would follow soon but not  
before she stared at the moon and considered  
that its lovely light shown down on her boy.  
She prayed silently that he was happy and well  
and that he would soon return to her once  
again. 
 
/... sleep well, my green leaf ... sleep well  
.../ 
 
***The next day ... 
 
He worked in the storage rooms, counting  
things as he was assigned and for a long  
time he didn’t know that anyone was watching.  
When he turned, glancing up for a second, he  
saw one of *them* standing in the doorway.  
He paused, feeling a fleeting sense of  
foolishness with his task at hand and then  
he composed himself. 
 
“Hello.” 
 
Legolas blinked. “Hello.” 
 
“Need help?” Elladan asked, moving closer.  
 
“No, I am fine,” Legolas replied, turning  
and going back to his task. He counted a  
number of related items and wrote the  
figure onto the ledger sheet he bore.  
 
“I hate taking inventory. I think it was the  
worst part of growing up, doing things like  
this.” 
 
Legolas paused and looked at him, momentarily  
confused. “You did this too?” 
 
Elladan nodded, sighing. “More than you  
will know.” 
 
Legolas paused, staring at the sheet  
and then the amiable Elf sitting before  
him. He sighed and then returned to his  
job, writing and counting once more. 
 
“Why don’t you put that down and we can  
go riding? I’ll show you some nice long 
trails in the high up country.” 
 
Legolas turned, wavering. “I have to do  
this.” 
 
“Elrohir will do it for you.” 
 
Legolas stared at him, his eyes narrowing.  
“Why would he do that?” 
 
“Because he owes me a favor or two.” 
 
Legolas considered it, the idea of riding  
and the idea of inventory and then he  
sighed. “I cannot let Lord Elrond down. I  
have responsibilities.” 
 
For a moment Elladan wavered and then he  
tried again. “It will get done. Just not  
by you.” 
 
Legolas stood a moment and then he sighed,  
nodding. “All right,” he said reluctantly.  
 
“Wait here,” Elladan said, leaving for a  
moment. He returned with Elrohir in tow.  
“Do this and we’re even.” 
 
Elrohir sighed and took the ledger from  
Legolas, moving past him to the shelves  
beyond. He turned and watched as Legolas  
and Elladan moved to the door and slipped  
out, racing to the horses waiting in the  
woods nearby. They mounted up and rode  
off, leaving the house behind. 
 
***Several hours later ... 
 
Elrohir sat on the chair, twitching through  
his second hour of waiting. It had not taken  
long to finish the inventory and when he had,  
he had turned to face the grim and formidable  
frown of Erestor.  
 
A short interrogation had followed along  
with a trip to his father’s study where  
the gist of the story, if not all the  
motivations and details had been wrenched  
from him. Elrond was angry and he told his  
son that since he had conspired to corrupt  
the training of his squire, he would wait  
until he returned to learn of his fate.  
Elrohir had nodded, sighing internally and  
walked to the study ante room to wait,  
praying that Legolas and Elladan didn’t  
decide to camp out. 
 
Elrond sat in the next room, considering the  
situation and decided that there was more  
than met the eye. For his sons to do this  
big of a turnaround, it could mean little  
good. He would keep Elrohir in his waiting  
room for as long as it took for the other two  
boys to return. He sighed and considered the  
peace of his house before Celeborn and  
Galadriel had stepped in. Would it ever  
return, he considered grimly as the minutes  
slowly ticked by. 
 
***High on a promontory point in the hills ... 
 
They sat on a rock, looking out over the world  
and the view was spectacular of mountains,  
rivers and fields filled with flowers. They had  
ridden miles, covering a lot of terrain and when  
they sat to rest the horses, it was comfortable  
between them. 
 
Elladan noted Legolas’ youth, his exuberance and  
his quiet personality. He liked him, he thought,  
even if he was Thranduil’s son and considered his  
motives for having him along. He felt terrible,  
his clearly defined conscience finding him with  
a barb and he considered riding back and boxing  
his brother’s ears. 
 
“What is it like being a twin?” Legolas  
asked. 
 
Elladan shrugged. “Crowded sometimes.” 
 
Legolas laughed, a sound Elladan liked  
and then he bent down to pick a flower.  
Elladan watched him, his grace and his  
dignity and it hit him that of course  
his father would be drawn toward him.  
He could feel it himself. 
 
“Who do you love, Legolas?” he asked,  
almost without thought.  
 
Legolas looked at him, considering the  
surprising question. “I don’t have a love.  
Is that what you mean?” 
 
Elladan nodded. “Doesn’t someone in your  
kingdom miss you, some lover who pines  
for your return?” 
 
Legolas shrugged. “There were some, a boy  
here and there but no one special.” 
 
Elladan turned and looked at the field of  
yellow flowers that stretched out behind  
them. Yellow, the color of Legolas’ hair.  
Elladan quashed the thought and rose,  
turning toward his horse. “I think we  
better head back. It will be dark soon  
and we’ll be missed.” 
 
Legolas rose and walked to his horse,  
mounting up with confused thoughts. What  
did he mean, he considered? “Why did you  
ask me whether I had a lover?” 
 
Elladan mounted his horse and turned him back  
toward Rivendell. “I just wanted to know.” 
 
He moved past Legolas, the younger boy staring  
at him with confusion. Elladan was handsome and  
not like the other one, his twin. What he meant  
by his question Legolas didn’t know. He just  
knew it had unsettled him. He followed Elladan  
down the trail toward home. 
 
************************************************ 
c2001 Jan. 18 ]:> TBC 
************************************************

************************************************ 
Title: Fortunate Son <5/?> 
Author: Arctapus, Helmboy, ]:> 
Codes: LOTR, Many, R and Up, Non-Au 
Post: Appropriate places 
Disclaimer: This story is mine. The world isn't.  
I imply no copyright infringement by using it. 
 
See part one for all other information. Thank you. 
************************************************ 
 
He stared out of the window, his hands resting on  
the ledge. The ride home had been quiet and when  
they reached the stable, Glorfindel was waiting,  
a stern expression on his face. They dismounted 
and let the horses into the paddock, following  
the elder Elf into the house and up the staircase  
to the study where Lord Elrond was waiting for  
them. 
 
Legolas felt a sinking feeling akin to dying  
as he followed the two, Elladan’s face grim  
as they entered the room. Elrohir was sitting  
in a chair, slumped and resigned and on one  
side of Elrond, Erestor sat, his disapproval  
clear. The two boys stood before Elrond,  
Glorfindel taking his seat on the other side  
of the Lord and Master of Imladris. 
 
He stared at them both and at the shame on  
his son’s face, something Elladan never could  
hide when he knew he was in trouble of his own  
choosing. The young man had a very well  
developed conscience and the good grace to  
admit when he was wrong. His brother was a  
little tougher on both accounts but both of  
them were good and decent people. Of Elladan’s  
state, he was very clear. 
 
The Prince of Mirkwood was an open book. His  
shame and painful remorse were there on his  
face for all to see and for a moment Elrond  
could feel his will weaken. Legolas was  
suffering from letting him down, of this  
he was sure. However, he had responsibilities  
and the duties of a lord to a misbehaving  
squire were well known to him. 
 
“I am well aware of the proclivity of young men  
to ‘cut corners’ on their duties. I was once a  
young man myself. However, it does not excuse  
the error of your judgment. Or shall I say,  
misjudgment?” 
 
The room was a tomb and Elrohir rose, moving  
to stand on the other side of Legolas. He  
cleared his throat painfully. 
 
“Legolas had no part in the planning of this  
uh, this action, Father. It falls directly  
upon Elladan and myself. In fact, I bear the  
biggest burden of fault.” 
 
Elrond stared at his son, appreciating the  
uncharacteristic acceptance of guilt for a  
misdemeanor. It wasn’t his usual pattern of  
behavior. Perhaps having Legolas around the  
house would have unforeseen beneficial  
consequences, he considered. His eyes shifted  
toward Elladan. He arched an eyebrow, his  
expression never wavering. 
 
Elladan sighed. “Elrohir is completely correct.  
It is our fault, not Legolas. He didn’t want to  
come but I persuaded him. I wished to show him  
the riding trails through the fields of flowers  
in the high up country. If anyone deserves to  
pay a penalty for our presumption, it is not him.” 
 
Elrond considered this and sighed. “I am  
unaccustomed to you both falling on your swords  
for another. Am I experiencing the birth of  
maturity at long last?” 
 
They flushed. Elrohir shifted his feet. “Father,  
it is the truth as it stands. If there is a  
penalty I wish to take it full on. No one else  
must stand punished for my bad judgment.” 
 
“I will accept the punishment,” Elladan  
interjected. “I am the oldest. I should have  
used better judgment.” 
 
“It was *my* idea,” Elrohir countered,  
glaring past Legolas at his brother. Elladan  
turned toward him, frowning. 
 
Legolas watched the conversation go back  
and forth, his head turning from one to the  
other even as the men sitting before him  
did the same. It was almost a surreal  
experience before Lord Elrond raised a  
hand and the room fell silent. 
 
For a moment they just stood holding their  
breath. Then Elrond spoke, his voice soft  
and even. 
 
“I am impressed by your new found sense of  
civic responsibility and incipient martyrdom.  
I will accept both of your requests. You both  
will be in charge of the stables for two weeks,  
taking in the horses that arrive and cleaning  
them each day. You are not to leave the house  
grounds without my permission. As for Prince  
Legolas ...” 
 
Legolas swallowed hard and met his lord’s  
gaze with effort. 
 
“You are to exercise better judgment in  
relation to the requests of these two. They  
do not mean harm but they have hindered your  
training and it won’t happen again. I am  
confining you to your room tonight without  
supper. In the morning, you will resume your  
duties and discharge them to the high degree  
of accomplishment that Lord Erestor and Lord  
Glorfindel have told me of. I am dismissing  
all three of you now.” 
 
For a moment they just stood and then they  
turned, fleeing the room. When they were gone,  
Elrond rose and walked to the desk, pouring a  
glass of wine for himself and the others. As  
he did, the tension broke and they laughed  
together for a very long time indeed. 
 
***In a room alone ... 
 
It was dark and Legolas was alone. He repented  
in private, the hurt of letting down his lord  
yet again playing over and over on his heart.  
He wanted to impress the older man, to show him  
that he was a worthy individual. He was aware  
that the great lord was taking time and effort  
with him, talking to him and getting to know  
him. That was important to Legolas. 
 
His own father didn’t do that for him, not often  
and when they talked it was often one-sided. At  
this moment Legolas wasn’t sure if his father  
knew even one thing he liked to do. It stung to  
consider it but it was true. There were few times  
that he had made hours available to just talk to  
him. 
 
Yet here he was, conversing with the greatest  
enemy of their family like they were friends. He  
felt it, the friendliness and it disturbed him  
how much he wanted it. Now he had let Lord Elrond  
down again. He wanted to cry, the stinging pains  
of shame and self-loathing prickling him as he  
stared out.  
 
Then he heard it, a soft hissing sound. He turned  
his head and noted Elladan’s face ... or at least  
the one he felt was Elladan ... leaning out of the  
window next to his.  
 
“Legolas!” he whispered. 
 
“What? What hellish merriment do you have  
planned now so that I can disappoint my Lord  
yet once again?” he asked, a hard edge to his  
whisper. 
 
Elladan sighed and nodded. “I was wrong. I  
admit it. I want to talk to you.” 
 
“Go away. We’ve talked enough,” Legolas  
whispered back, closing the window. He turned  
and walked toward his bed and when he looked  
back, he heard the window open and a figure  
dropping inside. “What are you doing in here?  
Lord Elrond will put me on a donkey back to my  
father if he catches you in here.” 
 
Elladan put his finger to his lips and moved  
closer, pausing before Legolas as he did. They  
stared at each other and then Elladan took  
Legolas’ face into his hands and kissed him on  
the lips, lingering as he did, the thunderstruck  
boy standing as a statue all the while.  
 
He sighed, staring at Legolas, at the beauty  
he held in his hands and he felt fire pooling  
in his gut. Stepping back, sucking in a deep  
cleansing breath, he turned and climbed back  
out the window he came from. Legolas watched  
him go without a sound and then ran to the  
window, peering out. No one was there. He  
touched his lips, licking them and then he  
moved back inside, sitting on the bed in  
confusion. 
 
He was in a strange house, the house of his  
father’s enemy, working for him, disappointing  
and pleasing him with equal facility and now  
the son, Elladan he supposed, of his father’s  
enemy had kissed him. He was churning with  
confusion and mixed emotions. He longed to  
speak with his mother. Lying back on his bed,  
a pillow clutched in his arms, he considered  
his situation.  
 
He was confused, upset and hungry. In that  
order. 
 
***Two days later ... 
 
Elrohir watched as Legolas walked to the  
greenhouse, following Erestor on some errand 
or two. It had been two days since Elladan  
had made a visit but it had hit some well  
defined truth in the youngster. They had not  
had time to be together but from the awkward  
glances and tension at table, they had scored.  
 
Something. 
 
What it meant, he wasn’t clear about. Legolas  
was still as comfortable around their father  
as ever. He just wasn’t comfortable around  
them. It was all too confusing. Stable detail  
left little time for reflection and as he  
stood near the paddock, he watched Legolas  
disappear into the building beyond. 
 
Elladan led out a horse, curry comb in  
hand. He glanced at the greenhouse,  
looking at his brother with a questioning  
gaze. “What?” 
 
“He went in there with Erestor.” 
 
Elladan sighed. “I think we need to pull  
away from this mischief. All we can do  
is make things more muddled.” 
 
“He is feeling something, this I know.” 
 
“From your *vast experience*?” Elladan  
replied sarcastically, combing the muscular  
rump of a gray horse.  
 
Elrohir turned, eyeing him with a bemused  
gaze. “You still haven’t told me what it  
was like kissing the son of Thranduil on  
the mouth.” 
 
“And I don’t intend to.” Elladan walked to  
the other side of the horse. “I may be a  
lot of things but I don’t kiss anyone and  
tell the tale.” 
 
“That is a lie,” Elrohir retorted, moving to 
stand on the side of the horse opposite his  
brother. “You had me stand in for you with  
that girl from the Havens. You had me actually  
take your place.” 
 
“That’s different,” Elladan replied defensively.  
“I had to be elsewhere.” 
 
“With the boy from the coast. You are a fraud,”  
Elrohir said smugly. “You give the facade of  
decency but underneath you are as big a pig as  
I am.” 
 
“No one is that big, brother,” Elladan countered,  
a smile growing on his face. “Tell me, what  
happened between you and her.” 
 
“Who?” Elrohir asked, grinning devilishly. 
 
Elladan sighed and stared at him pointedly.  
Elrohir chuckled and leaned in closer. “You  
really should have stayed. She was a rousing  
woman if I say so myself.” 
 
Elladan sighed. “Well, at least *someone* had  
some fun that day,” he said, the images of a  
strangely chaste youngster filling his mind. 
 
Elrohir snorted and turned, watching as Legolas  
and Erestor walked from the greenhouse, baskets  
of vegetables and flowers in their arms. Legolas  
looked at them and diverted his gaze almost  
immediately. They walked back to the house and  
disappeared into it. Elrohir sighed. 
 
“He is very pretty,” he said, glancing over  
at his brother. “It must have been very nice  
kissing those fancy lips.” 
 
Elladan sighed, pausing his hand. “It was.” 
 
***Later that night ... 
 
The knock on his door caught his attention and  
he turned, opening it. Surprised by his visitor,  
he stepped aside and allowed Lord Elrond to  
enter. Moving to the window, he turned and  
looked at the painfully neat room of the  
youngster. He smiled. 
 
“You are no longer confined to your room.” 
 
“I know, my lord. I am just ...” 
 
“Yes?” Elrond asked, sitting in a chair as  
the young man sat on the bed. 
 
“I am unsettled.” 
 
“In what way? My vexation at your behavior  
has long since passed. Your work is given  
great accolades by those who share it with  
you.” 
 
Legolas smiled, chancing a glance at the great  
man before him. Elrond’s face was gentle and  
kind, a good face Legolas thought for a  
fleeting moment. He sighed, folding his hands  
together. 
 
“I am unsettled by someone else, my Lord.  
I don’t know their intentions.” 
 
“Perhaps telling me can help you sort out  
what they desire?” Elrond coaxed. 
 
Legolas thought a moment and then nodded. 
“I am not sure what they want. I thought  
they hated me.” He looked at Elrond. “At  
least I thought he did until he kissed me.” 
 
Elrond blinked, considering Legolas’ words.  
“Kissed you? Someone in my household?” 
 
Legolas looked up, caught by the tone of  
his Lord’s voice. “I ... I shouldn’t have  
spoken.” 
 
“No,” Elrond gestured, catching himself.  
“It is well you did. You are my responsibility.  
All of you is, your emotions as well as your  
health and well-being. You can tell me thus.  
I will help you sort through it for some kind  
of sense.” 
 
Legolas took a deep cleansing breath and  
then nodded. Blushing slightly, the unease  
coming back, he began. “Elladan kissed me.” 
 
Elrond blinked, burying with an iron will  
his surprise. “My son? Elladan?” 
 
“Yes, my Lord. I was as surprised as you.” 
 
Elrond nodded, licking suddenly dry lips.  
“Well ... what are your feelings about this?” 
 
Legolas shrugged. “I am not sure. I am  
confused. From one moment of being my enemy  
to wishing to make love to me ... I don’t  
know what to make of it.” 
 
Elrond considered his words and nodded. “Nor  
do I. What do you wish of this encounter?  
More?” 
 
Legolas looked at him, confusion in his eyes.  
“I know not.” 
 
Nor do I, Elrond considered in his thoughts.  
“It would appear that perhaps you have chance  
infatuated my son. It is not unlikely because  
I will say that you are nearly perfect in your  
beauty, Legolas. I would be lying if I didn’t  
say so. My son could be moonstruck by this  
fact.”  
 
Legolas looked at Elrond, the words he  
had just spoken spinning around in his  
head. He considered his own words and  
found none. He stared at the older man  
silently.  
 
Elrond sighed. “I would sleep on it. And I  
would hope that this will not prevent you  
from the full pleasure of my household and  
from me the pleasure of your company.” 
 
Legolas nodded, watching as the tall older  
man rose. Elrond paused a moment as if  
wanting to say something more and then  
reached out and squeezed Legolas’ shoulder.  
“Good night, Green Leaf,” he said quietly.  
 
With that, he turned and walked to the door,  
leaving as silently as he had come. Legolas  
stared at the door for a long time before  
finally lying down to sleep. 
 
***Nearby ... 
 
Elrond stared at his book, the page unread  
for many minutes. Elladan was interested in  
the youngster. For a moment he had been  
struck numb and now that the shock had warn  
off, he felt the prickling pain of anxiety  
permeate him. He didn’t know why, not at  
least consciously, but he felt pangs of  
unease and regret flowing through him. 
 
Elladan wanted the youngster. That should have  
not been a surprise. What was the shock of the  
moment for him was how much it bothered him  
that he did. For it was at that moment that  
the great Lord of Imladris, Master Elrond of  
Rivendell felt the first shards of love enter  
his heart in a very, very long time. 
 
************************************************ 
c2002 Jan. 19 ]:> TBC 
************************************************

************************************************ 
Title: Fortunate Son <6/?> 
Author: Arctapus, Helmboy, ]:> 
Codes: LOTR, Many, R and Up, Non-Au 
Post: Appropriate places 
Disclaimer: This story is mine. The world isn't.  
I imply no copyright infringement by using it. 
 
See part one for all other information. Thank you. 
************************************************ 
 
Word came and he issued orders. He would be gone  
for a week. Moving about his study, Elrond  
considered what he would need and what order the  
house would manage without his presence. Celeborn  
had issued an invitation to come to the wood and  
meet with him. Ethereal presence that he was,  
Elrond loved him like a father.  
 
He walked from his study and down the corridor,  
heading out to the barn where he knew his sons  
were working. Many people had come through the  
area and he had given most of them shelter in  
his house. Their horses had to be tended and he  
suppressed a grin at the usual exclamation of  
surprise visitors would give when a prince took  
their horses away. 
 
/... a king is a worthless thing without humility  
.../  
 
The words came to him unbidden and the face and  
shy smile of his squire as well. They had begun  
to work together, Elrond instructing him on such  
esoterica as records management, keeping a  
personal journal, problem solving, caring for  
all manner of catastrophes and learning the fine  
game of chess. It had thunderstruck him that  
Legolas had no knowledge of the game. A king  
could only benefit from such a past time he  
considered, stepping out into the sunlight of the  
back courtyard. 
 
Elladan was unsaddling a new horse and Elrohir  
was working on a bridle. They looked up and  
grinned, their angst already disappearing with  
their sense of shame. 
 
"How go the wars?" he asked, leaning on the  
fence. 
 
"Ask me in a week," Elladan said ruefully. "You  
wouldn’t need a horse handler on the ride to  
Lothlorien would you?" 
 
Elrond grinned. "Not likely." 
 
Elladan sighed and paused, rubbing a towel on the  
horse’s back.  
 
"How long will you be gone?" Elrohir asked. 
 
"Several days. Lord Glorfindel has discretionary  
powers over your penance. He’s much more firm in  
the business of penalties in the matter of you  
two than I am." 
 
"We know," Elladan said. 
 
"I wish to discuss with you the matter of our  
young squire." 
 
They both stopped and turned to him, bland looks  
of interest on both their faces. Elrond sighed. 
 
"I am going to say to you that if any mischief  
befalls him while I am gone, I will take it as  
a personal reproach to me." 
 
"Father, I’m wounded," Elrohir replied, a slight  
frown on his face. "He is become like a brother  
to us." 
 
Elrond shot his son a baleful look. Elrohir blinked  
and looked at Elrohir. "He *has*," he said emotionally. 
 
"A brother? I am told by a little bird that one of  
you has interest in him that goes beyond brotherhood." 
 
Elladan glanced at Elrohir, blinking. "One of us?" 
 
Elrond nodded, looking from one to the other. "I would  
think that you would take care with his heart. He is  
young and an easy target for mischief. I would be sorely 
disappointed if one of you trifled with his heart." 
 
Elladan cleared his throat. "If what your little bird  
says is true, what so? Would it disturb you to know  
such things ... if they are so?" 
 
Elrond considered his words. "It would disturb me if  
they were of frivolous intent. He is the son of a  
king and a man who is in deep dislike of me and mine.  
For you to take advantage of his son while he is in  
the care of my service, then it would disturb me  
greatly." 
 
Elladan nodded. "We hear your words." 
 
"Good," Elrond said, patting the horse on the rump.  
"I will be gone for a time but return as soon as  
possible. You are all to keep the same schedule of  
service until I return. I want to know that I have  
your word on these matters." 
 
Both boys looked at each other and then their  
father, nodding. "You have it," they said together. 
 
Elrond smiled and turned, walking to the house.  
Elladan sighed and looked sourly at his brother.  
 
"You and your ideas. We are now out of Father’s  
favor. He trusts us not." 
 
"You overreact as usual," Elrohir said, turning back  
to his work. "He’s just being careful with the prince.  
By the by, tell me ... what more do you plan for  
Green Leaf?" 
 
"What do you mean, bore?" Elladan said with a  
slightly haughty air. 
 
"You *know* what I mean. You want him. Say so and be  
done with it." 
 
Elladan looked at his brother with a mixture of  
disgust and pity. "Do you always think with your  
gonads or is there a possibility that you can  
understand melme at some point in time often  
doesn’t require nakedness and rutting like a pig?" 
 
"You quote Quenya like you know what you’re talking  
about and what a facade that is. Don’t quote dense  
languages to me to gild your true desires. You want  
Legolas and you act as if that matters not. I know  
better. You *know* I know *you*." 
 
Elladan sighed dramatically and turned to his task.  
"Whatever you wish to believe, I care not." 
 
Elrohir snickered and carried the bridle to a hook  
inside the barn. He knew there was something going  
on with Elladan, no matter how little and he was  
determined to be there when it grew. 
 
***In the corridor outside of the study ... 
 
Elrond walked to the door of his rooms, prepared to  
leave when he saw Legolas standing nearby, a forlorn  
figure all told. Elrond smiled and gestured him to  
come, the boy crossing the distance between them  
slowly.  
 
"I have to go now. I will be gone only a few days.  
Erestor and Glorfindel have your care in hand." 
 
Legolas nodded, his eyes sad. "Good travels." 
 
Elrond squeezed Legolas’ shoulder and nodded.  
"Thank you, Legolas." 
 
For a moment they didn’t say more and then Legolas  
hugged him, hugging Elrond’s neck tightly. Elrond  
dropped his satchel and hugged him back, holding  
the tall slim boy as he was held. It felt good, he  
considered, the form of the youngster very compelling  
and then it was over as Legolas let go and stepped  
back awkwardly. He reached down and took Elrond’s  
bag into his hands, looking at him with a pale  
expression. 
 
"I’ll carry this to your horse, my Lord." 
 
Elrond looked at him, at his beautiful sad face and  
nodded, a slight smile on his own. They walked  
together, down the stairs and into the front corridor  
toward the courtyard beyond where horses and riders  
waited.  
 
Elrond paused by his, taking the bag from Legolas’  
hands and placed it over the rump of his horse. He  
fastened it, turning and squeezing Legolas’ arm,  
gifting him with a smile. Legolas smiled back,  
momentarily lifted from his sadness and watched as  
the lord of the manor effortlessly mounted his horse.  
He turned and smiled, waving to Legolas, Erestor,  
Glorfindel and his sons and then, with his guard  
about him, rode through the gate to the bigger  
world beyond.  
 
Legolas watched him go with a rising sense of loss,  
the comfort of the house around him lessened by  
several magnitudes. He turned and paused, catching  
the gaze of Elladan and then he continued onward,  
entering the house and his chores once more. 
 
***Late that night ... 
 
Elladan stood in the light of the window, one removed  
from Legolas’ room. He considered why he was here,  
unbeknownst to his younger brother and decided that  
he was moonstruck for the beautiful boy next door.  
He had been smacked in the face by love before,  
usually by a well turned ankle or a beautiful smile  
but this felt different. Of course it probably  
wasn’t his logical mind argued. It just felt so.  
 
Sighing, he leaned out and saw that the window next  
door was opened. He climbed out and moved closer,  
entering the room silently. He looked around, noting  
that it was empty and he turned walking back to the  
window to leave. It was then that he saw two very  
blue eyes staring at him, eyes framed by golden hair.  
He paused and smiled, leaning his elbows on the  
window sill. 
 
"There you are." 
 
Legolas sat in the tree, leaning against the trunk  
and nodded. "I am here." 
 
"You wood elves, I hear you’re a strange lot." 
 
Legolas smiled and leaned forward, meeting Elladan’s  
gaze directly. "I hear Noldor are a queer lot." 
 
Elladan smiled in spite of himself. "It seems lonely  
sitting out there. Why not come in and share some  
company with me." 
 
Legolas sighed and looked at the moon, its sliver  
of light weak in the darkness. "It is rather dark  
out here." 
 
"It is. Come down here." 
 
Legolas sat a moment and then he moved, slipping  
back inside easily. He turned and met Elladan’s gaze,  
the older boy mesmerized by his beauty. He reached  
out and ran the back of his fingers down Legolas’  
cheek, his jaw line and down his neck, the softness  
of his skin alluring.  
 
"Would it be treason for me to say that you are  
beautiful?" he whispered. 
 
Legolas smiled slightly. "Treacherous to think good  
of a wood elf, who I am told are a strange lot." 
 
Elladan smiled, chuckling. "You are. And I mean that  
in the best way." 
 
He leaned in and kissed Legolas, the younger boy not  
moving. Elladan nipped at his lower lip, the sensation  
of softness rushing straight to his groin. He slipped  
his arms around Legolas’ waist, the younger boy  
slipping his around Elladan’s neck. He pulled him  
close, kissing him with more passion as Legolas slowly  
began to respond.  
 
He sighed, rubbing his cheek against Legolas’. It was  
soft and refined, just like the youngster and he kissed  
him again, the sensations of desire rising through him  
like a brush fire. He moved backward in the general  
direction of the bed and by the time he reached it,  
his hand was down the back of Legolas’ pants. He  
squeezed firm flesh, cool to his touch and then  
turned, pressing the youngster down onto his own bed. 
 
He was throbbing in every corner of his body and  
psyche as he shifted, staring into Legolas’ face.  
The youngster’s face was flushed, his eyes dreamy  
and Elladan felt a twitch in his gut that felt  
painful. He kissed Legolas again, feeling strong  
hands thread through his hair and then the sound  
of knocking pierced the dense fog of his lust- 
filled brain. 
 
He paused, his body plastered along the length of  
Legolas, the two of them entwined on the bed together.  
The knocking continued and he rose, nearly growling  
with frustration. Legolas rose, pulling his shirt  
together once more and watched as Elladan limped to  
the window and climbed out.  
 
He turned and walked to the door, smoothing his hair  
as he did. He opened it and met the smiling face of  
Glorfindel.  
 
"My lord," he said surprised.  
 
Glorfindel smiled. "Lord Elrond asked me to continue  
with your studies of chess. I was wondering if you  
were up for a game?" 
 
Legolas hesitated, staring around his room and then  
conceded defeat. "I would be glad to learn what you  
can teach me, Lord Glorfindel." 
 
"Good," he said, stepping aside and letting the boy  
past him. He hesitated and then walked across the  
room, peering out the window at the youngster  
standing on the ledge, plastered against the wall.  
Grinning broadly, he chuckled. "Nice night, don’t  
you think, Elladan?" 
 
The youngster looked down at his father’s best friend  
and groaned, closing his eyes in dismay. 
 
"You should really come inside. Standing out here in  
such a disheveled manner, you could catch a cold." 
 
With a snicker, he turned and walked across the room,  
gathering his charge and walking to the study where  
the chess game was set up. Outside on the ledge,  
Elladan of Rivendell cursed all the gods he knew.  
With effort and will, he crept back inside and closed  
his window behind him. 
 
***In the study ... 
 
They played games, Glorfindel explaining strategy and  
the psychology of Lord Elrond’s game style to the apt  
youngster in front of him. He was aware of much,  
knowing that the interest that Elrond had in the boy  
was growing. Elrohir had articulated hat he sensed  
early on, even before Elrond himself had noticed. He  
was aware of the interest that Elladan had in the  
youngster too, the handsome boy drawing more than his  
share of interested glances. 
 
He found himself in the middle of a conundrum, which  
side to choose in this game a perplexing thing and so  
he took it upon himself for the duration of Elrond’s  
absence to not only shelter the youngster from the  
attention of others but to find out what he could  
about Legolas and his own feelings. 
 
"You are very fast in learning this game. You play a  
bold hand." 
 
Legolas smiled, pleased with the compliment. "I had  
no knowledge of it until Lord Elrond graciously began  
to instruct me." 
 
"Lord Elrond has patience even the rocks don’t have,"  
Glorfindel replied. "His sons are evidence of that." 
 
Legolas smiled, glancing up at the handsome man  
before him. "They are different." 
 
"You have brothers yourself?" 
 
"I have two. They are very busy. They help my father  
rule our domain." 
 
Glorfindel nodded. "It must be nice having brothers.  
The family tie must never be underestimated." 
 
"I don’t see them much and they don’t have much time  
for me. I guess what you say must be true." 
 
Glorfindel looked up, catching a shadow of sadness on  
the lovely landscape of Legolas’ face. It disturbed  
him. "Lord Elrond likes your company very much." 
 
"He takes time to ask after me. I like that. It  
surprises me that he does, a man with his burden  
of cares." 
 
"Lord Elrond is a man of firm mind. He likes what  
he likes and he likes you." 
 
A flush crept up Legolas’ neck as he made his move,  
putting Glorfindel into check. Glorfindel studied  
the board, his options fading as he did. 
 
"What say you? Do you love anyone, Legolas?"  
 
Blue eyes met his, eyes filled with emotions. "I  
don’t know, my Lord. There are those that want me  
and maybe one that I want. I have no clear idea of  
what is the best path to take." 
 
Glorfindel nodded. "That is often the way of love.  
It’s a serpent sometimes. You hold onto the tail  
and hope it won’t bite you to death." 
 
Legolas nodded, counter moving against Glorfindel.  
"Check and checkmate," he said, sitting back in  
triumph. 
 
Glorfindel chuckled and tipped his queen, dead in  
the water. He looked at the boy and sighed. 
 
"Don’t make in haste a decision you will regret.  
Penance is a lonely business." 
 
Legolas considered his words and nodded. "Sometimes  
just living is a lonely business, my Lord, but  
since I have come here I feel better." 
 
Glorfindel smiled. "That makes my heart glad.  
Another game?" 
 
Legolas nodded, picking up his pieces. As he put  
them on the board, Glorfindel chose his side.  
 
************************************************ 
c2002 Jan. 19 ]:> TBC 
************************************************

************************************************ 
Title: Fortunate Son <7/?> 
Author: Arctapus, Helmboy, ]:> 
Codes: LOTR, Many, R and Up, Non-Au 
Post: Appropriate places 
Disclaimer: This story is mine. The world isn't.  
I imply no copyright infringement by using it. 
 
See part one for all other information. Thank you. 
************************************************ 
 
Two days later ... 
 
He watched them play, kicking the ball back and  
forth and he studied their movements, trying to  
sort out how the game worked. It appeared that one  
used their feet to kick the ball past an apposing  
team and over a line in the stones that marked a  
boundary for goals. It was so at each end of the  
square and during a lull in the game while a boy  
chased the ball, Elrohir jogged over and bade him  
hello. 
 
"Join us," he said, tugging on Legolas' arm. 
 
Legolas demurred, shaking his head. "I don't know  
how to play." 
 
"We'll show you. We are one short. You can be that  
one." 
 
Legolas followed Elrohir over to where Elladan  
stood, nodding to him. Elladan nodded back,  
smiling and turned to his brother. "We now have  
matched teams." 
 
At that point, the other boys came over, all of  
them dark haired and tall. One of them had cool  
gray eyes and looked at Legolas with barely  
contained contempt. 
 
"So the Prince of Mirkwood deigns to play ball  
with the peasants?" 
 
Elladan turned and glared at the boy, drawing his  
eye away from the hateful stare of Legolas. "Are  
you going to play or just talk?" 
 
The boy glanced at Legolas and then Elladan,  
tossing him the ball. "We're going to defeat  
you like you've never been defeated before." 
 
They moved back and Elladan turned to his brother  
and Legolas, pulling them close around him. "We  
have to annihilate them. Our honor is at stake." 
 
"Whose honor?" Legolas asked, anger in his voice  
as he glanced at the three boys waiting.  
 
"Both Rivendell and Mirkwood. We have to defend  
our countries," Elladan said, his eyes holding  
Legolas'.  
 
Legolas nodded and moved to where he was shown by  
Elrohir. Then Elladan kicked the ball to the other  
side. The game began and shouts and rushing feet  
filled the air with sound. People passing by  
stopped to watch and on a balcony overlooking the  
square, Glorfindel sat humming to himself as he  
followed the lightening quick movements below. 
 
He heard footsteps, taking a glass of refreshment  
from Erestor as the other man joined him. "What  
goes here?" 
 
"Behold," Glorfindel replied, sweeping his hand  
grandly as he propped his feet up on the low  
border before him. "A re-enactment of the Last  
Alliance of Elves and Men." 
 
"Where are the men?" Erestor asked blandly,  
eyeing his partner with amusement.  
 
"You have to suspend reality for a moment, my  
friend," Glorfindel said with a chuckle. "On  
one side you have the good forces, us." He  
pointed at Elladan, Elrohir and Legolas, who  
were working together to make the first point.  
They scored and howled, jumping back as the  
other team, maddened and embarrassed, chased  
them with the ball.  
 
"And the other side?" Erestor asked. 
 
"That is the side of all that is evil and cruel.  
Of course, it looks like us but here is where  
you suspend disbelief. Consider them all  
minions of the Dark Lord." 
 
"You utter that name here?" Erestor asked,  
surprised. 
 
"Metaphorically speaking, yes," Glorfindel said,  
watching as Legolas crashed into a wall, nudged  
by a boy from the forces of evil. He watched,  
waiting, noting that Elladan pulled him up while  
Elrohir engaged the miscreant in heated argument  
nose-to-nose. "Note that they tripped our golden  
prince, a tactic not allowed in this game if I  
am familiar with the rules." 
 
"Ah, a tactic of the forces of evil," Erestor  
agreed, grinning broadly. 
 
"Exactly," Glorfindel replied, smiling. "In the  
end our side will win. Probably. The opposing  
team will suffer the crushing humiliation of  
defeat. Maybe. It's all in the hands of fate." 
 
Erestor snorted and sighed. "I love the way you  
think. Right now, it looks like our side is  
getting the breeches beaten off them." 
 
Elladan missed his shot and they fell back,  
blocking a shot from the other side. As they  
moved to set up again, the tall sullen  
opposition boy elbowed Legolas in the back. He  
cried out and fell to his knees, holding his  
side in pain. Elrohir moved to him and then  
turned on the tall boy, Elladan holding him  
back with effort. 
 
The others moved back, staring at the three  
without remorse and both boys turned and helped  
Legolas to his feet. 
 
"Maybe this isn't such a good idea," Elladan  
said, touching Legolas' back gingerly. 
 
Legolas winced and straightened with effort.  
"No. We play and we play to win." 
 
Elrohir smiled and glanced at the others. "If  
they want to play rough, we give them what  
they want. Agreed?" 
 
The others looked at Elrohir and then the three  
at the other end. Legolas nodded and then  
Elladan agreed, all three turning back to the  
game. They kicked off and when the other team  
got near, elbows flew and kicks were had. The  
other team missed on their scoring attempt. 
 
"Right now, they are winning the day. Just  
like in the past," Glorfindel said, watching  
intently, wincing as the forces of evil scored  
a point on the backside of Elrohir. 
 
"Yes, Glorfindel, but I distinctly remember that  
a lot of people died doing this such thing. I  
think we shall require lots of bag balm tonight,"  
Erestor said, flinching as Elladan punched a boy  
in the side, stealing the ball away. 
 
Glorfindel snorted, laughing out loud, watching  
as Legolas shoved past a blocker and scored.  
The boy shoved aside came at him and it looked  
like a free-for-all would erupt but the two  
sides split up, moving to regroup once more. 
 
"I should compose something to honor this moment,"  
Glorfindel said, smiling broadly as Elrohir laid  
an opponent out on the ground on his drive to  
score. "Perhaps something along the lines of a  
dirge." 
 
"Funerary? Nice touch from what I'm watching," he  
said, sipping his drink. He propped his feet up,  
sighing. "This beats working anytime." 
 
Glorfindel snickered. "The Master of the House  
should go more often?" 
 
"You didn't hear it from me." 
 
Below them, squaring off, punches were traded and  
the ball game resumed, all sides tied. 
 
***Lothlorien ... 
 
They had discussed business and then Celeborn asked  
Elrond to accompany him on his evening stroll. They  
walked together, the dark sky twinkling overhead and  
the big trees protecting them against any dangers in  
the night.  
 
Elrond enjoyed moments like this, when he could talk  
to Celeborn about anything and everything on his  
mind. His father-in-law was a very interesting man,  
a man who could fight, create, and woo and win the  
heart of a very strong-willed and sought-after woman  
like Galadriel.  
 
Celeborn was ethereal, a man caught in the cusp  
between reality and the next dimension and so his  
manner was strange to those unused to him. He was  
farseeing and intuitive, aware of things beyond  
reason and aware of the hearts of others. 
 
Walking with him always included an inventory of  
Elrond's psyche. It was a challenge to be with  
Celeborn, one he savored, intellectual to  
intellectual. 
 
"You are happy?" Celeborn asked, peering at Elrond  
for a second. 
 
"I am," Elrond said, meaning it. "My children are  
interesting, my country secure and I am fostering  
a challenging but intelligent and many talented  
boy." 
 
"Ah, Legolas," Celeborn replied, nodding. "It is  
good for that one to have a breadth of experience.  
His household has other priorities for their  
children, not at all in keeping with the demands  
of a modern day prince. Thranduil is a traditional  
man and that is to be admired but his interest in  
luxury and riches blinds him to the finer things  
of the world. Travel, education, all of it well  
makes a good mind and Legolas from what I can  
discern has a very good mind indeed." 
 
"He does. I am teaching him chess." 
 
"Very good, Elrond," Celeborn replied. He turned  
and stopped, affixing Elrond with his beautiful  
eyes. They were never-ending in their depth, eyes  
that had seen much and they fixed on him now,  
waiting for a revealing moment in the silent  
figure they viewed. "You have not spoken of your  
own self, your heart. I have been at pains to  
find out where stand you. Your happiness does  
not include another for whom you may share your  
thoughts and your love?" 
 
Elrond shook his head, holding the direct gaze  
with effort. "You ask each time and I tell you  
the same. I have much to occupy my time and  
energy. Another would make it difficult." 
 
"And being alone ... it is not difficult?" Celeborn  
asked, resuming walking again, his hands clasped  
behind his back. 
 
"It is known," Elrond replied. "I know the ways of  
it and it is enough for now." 
 
"My daughter ... few loved a child the way my wife  
and I did her. We were glad that you married her,  
giving her love and security. She was our only  
one and we wanted everything for her. You did  
that for her and we will love you forever because 
she loved you and for your goodness to her. The  
children you shared, boys and a girl, they are  
our treasure." 
 
Elrond nodded, slipping his hand through Celeborn's  
arm. "They are an interesting mix but in all very  
wonderful." 
 
"They are," Celeborn agreed. "My daughter is long gone  
and who knows how many ages until the day we can all  
be reunited. How many ages will you wait until you  
find your way again?" 
 
"My Lord," Elrond began as Celeborn halted. He raised  
a hand, silencing Elrond. 
 
"You have no idea how much we miss our daughter. We  
know that your heart has known much sorrow. Your  
sons hunt orcs like dogs hunt fleas, searching them  
out of their holes and lairs because of her suffering.  
We have discussed this a long time, my Lady and I and  
we wish you to know that we give you our leave to seek  
love again." 
 
Elrond stared at him, silenced by his words. Celeborn  
stared into the sky, the weak light of the moon  
casting a halo around the silver of his hair. A  
thousand ghosts surrounded them, men and women long  
gone and when Celeborn turned to walk on, Elrond felt  
every one of them. He slipped his hand through  
Celeborn's arm as they walked into the night and  
their conversation. 
 
***Elsewhere ... 
 
"Sit still." 
 
Glorfindel staunched the blood flow and put a plaster  
on the cut. The swelling over Elrohir's eye would take  
a while to come down, even with the ministrations of  
both himself, Erestor and a local healer.  
 
Legolas rubbed his knee, the dent of another's boot  
still visible below it and the black of his eye ever  
increasing. Elladan groaned as he rose from the table,  
tugging his tunic back down. They were battered and  
bruised, blood-stained and woebegone but they were  
also victorious. 
 
They thanked their benefactors and limped away,  
heading for their rooms to lie down. It had been a 
melee at the end, any pretense of sportsmanship  
going by the wayside. The walkways and balconies  
were lined with people cheering their favorite  
side as they beat each other up from one end of  
the courtyard to the other. 
 
In the end, the forces of light triumphed over  
the forces of darkness and the Second Alliance  
of Elves and half-men prevailed once again. The  
other side lost with ill grace and the catcalls  
they gave each other echoed off the walls.  
Legolas, supported by Elladan made it to the exit  
before Glorfindel liberated him. 
 
Dinner would be soon and they would be expected  
to attend, battered or no. Climbing the stairs  
was difficult and as he entered his room, Legolas  
headed for this bed, lying down stiffly on the  
covers. The door opened and Elladan entered,  
sitting on the bedside, his hand resting on  
Legolas' leg. 
 
"How do you feel?" he asked, rubbing his jaw  
where it was tender. 
 
"Victorious," Legolas said, rubbing his face with  
his hands.  
 
"That was the best part." 
 
"They don't play this game this way normally do  
they," Legolas stated, rather than asked. 
 
Elladan shook his head. "Not normally." 
 
"It was because of me," Legolas said, his voice  
bitter. "It was because of my name and because  
I'm from Mirkwood." 
 
"No," Elladan said, his hand sliding up to rest  
on Legolas' thigh. "It was because they are  
simple wits." 
 
Legolas sighed. "Simple wits you say." 
 
"I say so," Elladan said, moving to sit closer.  
He leaned down and kissed Legolas, sliding his  
hand even higher. He rested it on Legolas'  
crotch, the shape beneath his hand more than  
pleasing. Legolas sighed against Elladan's  
lips, his eyes dreamy once again. Elladan  
fell into joy just staring and then he sat  
up, reality intruding with the pain and  
stiffness of his body. "I want you but I  
think I've broken everything I need to make  
it happen." 
 
Legolas snorted, smiling even against the pain  
in his jaw. "Everything?"  
 
"Well ... maybe not *everything*," Elladan said,  
leaning down again. 
 
"Dinner time," a cheery voice said from near  
the door.  
 
They both turned and looked, noting Glorfindel's  
form leaning against the doorjamb. Elladan sighed  
and rose slowly, moving even slower to the door  
and the hallway beyond. Glorfindel moved closer,  
smiling at Legolas.  
 
"Need a hand up?" he asked. 
 
Legolas sighed and nodded, offering a hand. He  
rose slowly, groaning as he stood. Then with the  
steadying hand of Glorfindel behind him, he limped  
out the doorway to dinner. 
 
***In Lothlorien ... 
 
He stood looking at the sky, at the brief snatches  
he could see. He located his star and then gave  
his mind over to other things, to the generosity  
of his in-laws and to the loneliness that had  
shaped him these many years. 
 
In his house was someone who made him feel young  
again. The thought of it made him wince, the idea  
of him leaching the youth from a youngster almost  
more pathetic than he cared to articulate. Yet  
so it was. Legolas was young, still forming and  
very beautiful. Did he love the boy or was he  
bewitched by his beauty and his need for someone  
to notice him?  
 
Elrond couldn't say. He just knew he wanted to be  
home, to walk with Legolas again and to find out  
what his days entailed. He enjoyed that immensely,  
his amusing company and the beauty as well. That  
part held him captive.  
 
/... just like Elladan .../ 
 
He sighed and considered the totality of the boy.  
It was in the doing of it that he felt the flickers  
of his emerging emotions fan themselves a little.  
The son of his worst enemy was someone he devoted  
much thinking to and as he did, he realized that  
it couldn't end but ill. 
 
************************************************ 
c2002 Jan. 19 ]:> TBC 
************************************************

************************************************ 
Title: Fortunate Son <8/?> 
Author: Arctapus, Helmboy, ]:> 
Codes: LOTR, Many, R and Up, Non-Au 
Post: Appropriate places 
Disclaimer: This story is mine. The world isn't.  
I imply no copyright infringement by using it. 
 
See part one for all other information. Thank you. 
************************************************ 
 
He rode in three days later, accompanied by the  
contingent of Rivendell Elves that were his guard.  
He dismounted, handing off his horse and walked to  
the door of his house, saddle bags in hand. He  
entered, staring around the lovely interior and  
it occurred to him that it was as unchanged as  
ever. In all the thousands of years he had lived  
here, little had changed in any substantial way. 
 
He sighed and climbed the stairs, his eyes open  
for the one he wanted to see most and when he  
reached his study, he was slightly depressed at  
not catching a glimpse of Legolas. Tossing his  
bags on a chair, he unfastened his cloak after  
shucking his bow and quiver. 
 
It joined the bag and as he turned, he paused, a  
smile crossing his face unbidden. Standing in the  
doorway, silent as a ghost, Legolas watched him.  
He sighed deeply. "Good morrow." 
 
"Good morrow, my Lord," Legolas said in a hushed  
voice. "Welcome home." 
 
A warmth like honey filled him and he smiled. "It  
is good to be home. You are well?" 
 
"I am," he replied. Moving closer, he hesitated  
and then turned, gathering Elrond's weapons, his  
bow and quiver and his sword and belt. He turned  
and smiled, his eyes shining. "I'll take care of  
your baggage." 
 
Elrond nodded, noting a fading black eye, and  
watched as Legolas turned, walking toward the  
bedroom with his things. In the doorway,  
grinning broadly, Glorfindel stood watching as  
well.  
 
"Welcome home, my Lord." 
 
Elrond smiled and nodded. "What news of home? I  
am curious about his black eye."  
 
Glorfindel smiled, visions of the ball game  
coming unbidden. "They were all busy at separate  
endeavors during the time of your absence. They  
have all been good boys. Mostly." 
 
"The eye?" 
 
Glorfindel smiled. "A ball game with others gone  
awry. Nothing too worrisome." 
 
Elrond chuckled, relief filling him and he turned,  
moving to the balcony beyond. He filled his lungs  
with fresh air, leaning his hands on the railing.  
"It is good to be home. I must tell you, all the  
news isn't good. There is orc activity near the  
great wood. Orcs are creating mischief and there  
is news that they swarm in great numbers." 
 
"That isn't good," Glorfindel agreed, his  
expression serious at the news. "Is that why Lord  
Celeborn asked your presence?" 
 
"Partly." Elrond sighed. "Partly that and other  
things. It appears that King Thranduil is nearby  
and would like his son with him a few days. He  
would then return him to my care once he passed  
by." 
 
Glorfindel looked at him, measuring Elrond's mood.  
"What say you of this?" 
 
"He is the son of Thranduil. Even though it is not  
a proper thing to come to Legolas at this point  
in his fostering, I cannot deny a man access to  
his child." 
 
Glorfindel nodded. "Celeborn had to tell you? Isn't  
it customary for a lord to seek leave of another  
for various purposes by direct contact in some  
fashion ... a messenger or such?" 
 
"Thranduil doesn't feel so, evidently," Elrond  
conceded, turning and noting for the first moment  
that Legolas was standing in the doorway. He  
straightened and smiled, gesturing the youngster  
into the room. "Legolas, good news. Your father  
is nearby and seeks your company for a few days." 
 
Legolas stared at him and nodded, his expression  
unchanged. "When, my Lord?" he asked. 
 
Elrond looked at him, at the lack of response to  
supposedly good news and replied, "Tomorrow to be  
exact. He will send riders to fetch you." 
 
"How long will I stay with him?" he asked, a  
slight note of distress in his voice. 
 
"For three days," Elrond replied, noting the  
change.  
 
Legolas nodded and sighed. "Can I do more for you,  
my Lord?" 
 
Elrond smiled and shook his head. "You have done  
much already." 
 
Legolas nodded and turned, walking out of the room  
and onward to other things. They watched him go and  
then Glorfindel turned to him, a slight grin on  
his face. 
 
"That went over well." 
 
Elrond snorted and turned, watching as the youngster  
crossed the courtyard below. He stared at him, at  
his golden hair and his graceful form. He walked to  
the stable and disappeared, reappearing with Elrond's  
own horse. Legolas began to groom him, working the  
fatigue and trail dust out of the stallion and  
Elrond smiled. This was the job of someone else and  
Legolas was taking it up himself. He wondered what  
it might mean between them. 
 
Glorfindel watched, the implications of Elrond's  
thoughts clear on his face. In an unguarded moment  
his suspicions were confirmed and he made a silent  
vow to ensure that the possibilities that Elrond  
so clearly longed for had every chance to come to  
fruition.  
 
"He's a remarkable boy," Glorfindel said quietly. 
 
"Yes ... he is," Elrond said dreamily. For a moment  
there was nothing more and then he gathered himself,  
suddenly aware of his surroundings. He cleared his  
throat and turned, walking back to his rooms to  
bathe and change. 
 
Glorfindel watched him go, thoughts filling his  
mind. Elrond was indeed infatuated and if his past  
was any indication for the present and future, he  
wouldn't act on his feelings. Perhaps, Glorfindel  
considered, a little intervention was needed. As  
he walked to the door, heading for his own duties,  
he made up his mind. A little intervention would  
be a good thing in this case, a good thing indeed. 
 
*** 
 
Dinner was filled with laughter and conversation  
as the 'Last Alliance of Elves and Half-Men' was  
recounted to the Lord of the Manor. Elrohir and  
Elladan gave ample praise to the Prince of  
Mirkwood, declaring that the honor of their two  
countries was still intact. 
 
Elrond smiled and nodded, noting that Legolas was  
silently picking at his food. He sighed and sat  
back, only half enjoying the conversation around  
him. When dinner was over, they rose and walked  
to the balcony to relax and talk over the day. 
 
Legolas stood in the doorway, waiting for Elrond  
and when he got near, he turned and stepped before  
him. "My Lord, may we walk together?" 
 
Elrond smiled and nodded, turning and walking to  
the doorway and the paths that led to the  
riverside beyond. Elladan watched them go,  
slightly perturbed by the sight. Glorfindel  
smiled at him, shaking his head. Elladan rose and  
walked to the edge of the balcony, staring down as  
his father and Legolas stepped out, taking the  
long winding path downward toward the river. 
 
"They look well together," Glorfindel ventured. 
 
Elladan didn't bite but he looked at the older  
man. "Say you?" 
 
"I say, Master Elladan, they look well together."  
He grinned as he watched the expression on  
Elladan's face. He was aware of the war the boy  
was having internally and he stoked the fire  
with his words. "They look very well together  
indeed. Your father is such a lonely figure. It  
is good to see him with someone who can make  
him smile." 
 
Elladan turned and watched them, confirmation of  
Elrohir's words clear in the meaning. He sighed,  
his better angels fluttering in his heart and he  
made the emotional decision to step back. If his  
father was indeed infatuated with Legolas, he  
wouldn't stand in the way. He stood and watched  
until they disappeared and then he turned back  
and joined the conversation. 
 
*** 
 
The water flowed by, dark and swift and they walked  
along the river bank side-by-side. It was shadow  
cast outside, the moon nearly disappeared and all  
around them the sounds of night creatures could be  
heard. Legolas paused and knelt down, staring into  
the water silently. 
 
"You are troubled?" Elrond ventured. 
 
Legolas didn't answer a moment and then he rose,  
staring at Elrond, his emotions reflected in his  
eyes. "My father wants me to come and you have  
just arrived." 
 
Elrond felt his heart melt as he looked at Legolas,  
the emotional distress so clear on his handsome  
face tugging at him. 
 
"I would think that you would want to see your  
father, Legolas." 
 
"I do," he said, turning and staring at the river.  
"It's just that ..." 
 
Elrond stepped closer, standing next to the tense  
youngster. "Just what?" he asked gently. 
 
"It's just that," Legolas began, turning and  
staring into Elrond's face. They were close, nearly  
chest to chest and Legolas stilled, his eyes filled  
with longing. Then he turned and moved away, biting  
his lower lip as he did. "I missed you that's all." 
 
Elrond felt his heart burst, the emotions it  
contained over spilling. He sighed, moving closer,  
forcing the issue even as he loathed himself for  
doing such a manipulative thing with someone less  
experienced. He wanted a token, something that  
would help him pass the next three days and as  
Legolas turned, he received it.  
 
Legolas stared at him and then stepped forward,  
slipping his arms around Elrond's neck. Elrond  
embraced him back, holding him as tightly as he  
could. They stood together, the river their only  
witness as they pledged without words their  
hearts. 
 
Elrond sighed, his eyes stinging with tears. He  
felt the strength of the youngster in his arms,  
the power of his youth, the dignity of his spirit  
and they welled in him, emotions long suppressed,  
like the tide in a full moon along the sea shore. 
 
"I will miss you," Legolas whispered. "You just  
came back and now I have to leave. I thought I  
would never pass the time before your return." 
 
Elrond smiled, burying his face in the soft  
golden silk of Legolas' hair. "I missed you. I  
missed you, Legolas." 
 
Legolas sighed, releasing Elrond slightly. He  
stared into his eyes, the passion of his emotions  
clear on his face. Then he leaned forward and  
kissed the older man, softly and sweetly. Elrond  
felt his heart clutch, the desire that swept him  
almost overpowering. He accepted the kiss, the  
gift of his lover and sighed against Legolas'  
lips.  
 
"You have no idea how long I have waited for  
this moment," he whispered as he stared at  
Legolas, memorizing his expression for his  
dreams. "I have waited centuries for you." 
 
Legolas smiled, leaning in once more. He kissed  
Elrond, lingering on his lips as the older man  
pulled him closer. He kissed Elrond again,  
lightly and softly, over and over. He kissed  
Elrond's lips, his cheeks and his brow,  
imparting without words what he felt.  
 
Elrond smiled, closing his eyes to the feather- 
like softness of Legolas' caresses. Soft lips  
touched him, awaking in him centuries of longing  
and as they stood together, he knew he would  
never be more happy than this moment. If he  
died now, he would die happy. 
 
The water rushed by and they stood together,  
the morning far away as the world telescoped  
downward. There was only the two of them and  
this moment that they shared. Reality was  
pushed back and they had all the time they  
needed.  
 
Elrond sighed and opened his eyes, staring with  
love at the youngster in his arms. Legolas  
embraced Elrond once more, laying his head on  
Elrond's shoulder. Elrond tightened his grip,  
afraid to let go.  
 
"I will be waiting for you when you return," he  
said, rubbing Legolas' back with his hand.  
"Three days will be an eternity." 
 
"As was your leaving this week. I thought it  
would never end." 
 
Elrond chuckled, squeezing Legolas. "Nor did I." 
 
"What does this mean, my Lord?" Legolas asked,  
his eyes searching Elrond's face. "What does  
this mean, this changed state between us?" 
 
Elrond sighed, happiness animating every corner  
of his being. "It means, my dear Legolas, if  
your father ever finds out, or anyone else,  
you will be disgraced as will I." 
 
"I will not tell him," Legolas said defiantly,  
his face becoming cold with determination. 
 
Elrond smiled and leaned forward, kissing him  
softly. The firm expression melted away,  
replaced by one of longing and desire. Elrond  
sighed, the sight more beautiful than his  
dreams. 
 
"It means that I love you," he said, voicing  
what had been in his heart for some time. 
 
Legolas sighed, nodding. "I love you," he  
whispered. "I have from the first day." 
 
Elrond smiled. "You cover it well." 
 
He frowned ruefully. "I was uncertain if you  
would care for me being placed in your  
household. I just saw you and I felt ... I  
felt from the moment you tipped your glass  
that I was at home." 
 
Elrond smiled. "I was moved by your suffering." 
 
Legolas nodded. "I know. It took me a while to  
sort it all out, the kindness and time you have  
taken. I couldn't hope that you might feel it  
possible to love me." 
 
"Why?" 
 
"You are a great lord, maybe the greatest among  
all our people. You are wise and worldly, you  
have much learning and you are filled with  
years. I am a sapling compared to your mighty  
oak." 
 
Elrond smiled. "You are beautiful to me, Green  
Leaf. I feared that my years would be a barrier  
between us. They still might in the long run." 
 
"I don't think so," Legolas said stubbornly. "I  
don't feel them as a barrier. I hope you won't  
either. I want to know you, to know your heart.  
I want to know what you've seen, to learn your  
adventures. If that is ..." He paused, suddenly  
uncertain. "If you want to tell me these things." 
 
Elrond smiled and hugged him, squeezing him  
tightly. "Why would I not?"  
 
Legolas smiled and hugged him back, rubbing his  
cheek against the soft dark silk of Elrond's  
long hair. "Thank you." 
 
Elrond sighed, layers of sorrow slipping away  
like scales. "Thank you, Green Leaf," he  
whispered. 
 
*** 
 
It was late in the evening when they walked back  
into the house, most of the occupants either  
sleeping or otherwise occupied out of sight. Up  
the winding staircase they walked, down the  
corridor to the room where Legolas slept. They  
talked together for a moment and then Elrond  
leaned in, kissing Legolas softly. The youngster  
smiled and reluctantly turned, walking into his  
bedroom.  
 
Elrond stood until the door closed and then walked  
onward, heading for his own chambers. Nearby,  
watching with satisfaction, Glorfindel nodded,  
relief flooding him as he turned away.  
 
The night was dark and the possibilities unlimited.  
Now all he had to do was get his lord through the  
next three days in one piece.  
 
The house was silent as the stars climbed overhead  
and in two different rooms, two people waited,  
unable to sleep. The morning would be coming soon,  
all too soon for them both. 
 
************************************************ 
c2002 Jan. 21 ]:> TBC 
************************************************

************************************************
Title: Fortunate Son <9/?>
Author: Arctapus, Helmboy, ]:>
Codes: LOTR, Many, R and Up, Non-Au
Post: Appropriate places
Disclaimer: This story is mine. The world isn't. 
I imply no copyright infringement by using it.

See part one for all other information. Thank you.
************************************************

They arrived the next morning, a contingent of 
riders bearing the livery of Mirkwood, sitting 
on their horses as their captain walked to the 
door. Greeted by Glorfindel, Ellan of Mirkwood 
struck up a conversation with a man he hadn't 
seen in years. 

Although Elrond's messenger and delegate-at-large 
for all missions of greatest import, Ellan had 
missed Glorfindel on the few trips he had made to 
the fastness of Mirkwood. Now they met and caught 
up quickly on the news, waiting as they both did 
for Legolas to appear. 

He was standing in the corner of his room, pulling 
on his bow and quiver. Elrond helped him, smoothing 
the leather straps and when he turned and faced the
older man, it was with a sorrow-filled expression.

"I wish I wasn't going," he said with a sigh.

Elrond nodded, a slight smile on his face. "Then 
the desire is unanimous. I will find the next three 
days very tedious."

Legolas smiled slightly, considering him with a 
cocked head. "That somehow makes me feel better."

Elrond snorted and turned, gazing at the door 
wistfully. "I suppose you must go."

Legolas nodded and turned, walking for the door when 
he paused and returned, standing before Elrond. 
Elrond pulled him into his arms and into a kiss, a 
desperate one, filled with his own anguish. Legolas 
kissed him back and reluctantly stepped away, hurrying 
for the door where he vanished. Elrond sighed and 
turned to the window, looking out into the courtyard.

Legolas was already at his horse, mounting and 
turning to look for him again. Elrond sighed, 
raising a hand, watching as Legolas returned it. 
With a sigh he turned his horse and together 
with his fellows, rode through the door toward 
the road beyond. 

Elrond watched them go, a chill settling over his 
heart. He stood there a long time before turning 
and looking around. He walked to the bed and sat 
down, pulling the pillow from the covers. He 
smelled it, the scent of his lover's hair filling 
him with a sadness he hadn't felt in a long time.

He put it down and stood, an object catching his 
eye giving him pause. He walked to a table and 
picked up a small white stone. Legolas had 
collected it, he considered, finding in the 
perfect roundness of it something beautiful.

/... beautiful like him .../

He took it and put it into his pocket, determining 
that he would hold on to it until Legolas returned. 
That way he would feel less lonely and more 
comforted. As he mused on his situation, his 
practical brain asserted itself and he walked to 
the door to begin his day.

***

He reached his father's encampment on the Bruinen 
River, riding for half of a day with the men sent 
to fetch him. They dismounted and aides took the 
horses, freeing him up to meet his father after 
many weeks away. He took a deep cleansing breath 
and walked through the encampment toward the tent 
where his father's banner flew in the breeze.

Pausing outside, he nodded to an aide and moved 
to enter. The aide stopped him, shaking his head.

"Your father is preoccupied, young prince," he 
said. "If you can wait a moment I will tell him 
you have arrived."

Legolas nodded, sighing as he stood before his 
father's tent, the contrast with the Lord of 
Imladris more than painfully evident. For a moment 
he stood cooling his heels and then the aide 
returned, a strained expression on his face.

"Your father expresses his pleasure that you are 
here but he is in conference with several of his 
captains over the matter at hand. He would like 
you to make yourself to home and he will see you 
at dinner."

Legolas sighed, his expression falling. The aide 
shifted uncomfortably. "You can find your tent, 
my Lord. He might finish early. If he does I will 
fetch you promptly."

Biting back a retort at the obvious pity in the 
young man's voice, Legolas nodded, smiling weakly. 
"Thank you. I will."

He turned and walked away, careful to appear 
unhurried and as he did it occurred to him that 
he had no idea where he was to sleep that night. 
He didn't care really, considering the only bed 
he desired was in Rivendell and so he wandered, 
making his way to the banks of the river. 

It ran shallow here and he could see the bottom, 
the glistening of agates in the water calling to 
him. He bent down and collected them, choosing 
only the best ones and when he had a small handful 
he considered what he would do with them. 

They would go to his Lord, Elrond, the lot of them 
in some fashion but what it would be was elusive. 
As he stood on the river bank, his eyes moving from 
the glittering stones in his hand to the water again, 
he heard footsteps and turned, meeting the eyes of 
his oldest brother.

"Hello," he said, hugging Legolas tightly. 

Legolas hugged him back, surprised at the filial 
exuberance. "Hello."

Aranel looked at his hand and smiled. "Still 
collecting rocks?"

"Only the interesting ones," Legolas said, feeling 
slightly foolish. He slipped them into his pocket, 
turning to his brother. "I figured you would be 
with Father at his meeting."

"It broke up. I was sent to fetch you."

Legolas nodded, staring at the river once more. "I 
love this river."

"There are other rivers, Legolas. Some of them don't 
pass through the valley of Imladris. Those are the 
ones that matter."

Legolas felt his cheeks burn and the urge to turn 
and argue was upon him. He looked at his brother, 
his gaze distracted and felt alienation setting in. 
Aranel had never been to Imladris and had never 
seen its beauty or met her people. He had only the 
narrowness of his own experience to draw on and it 
had dire consequences for Imladris someday because 
of it. 

"I love this one," he said stubbornly. "It feeds 
waterfalls untold and runs through the great valleys 
beyond here."

"Through Elrond's country," Aranel said, his opinion 
of what he felt of that place and man clear.

Anger flared in Legolas and he looked at his brother 
with angry eyes. "You don't know what you're talking 
about."

Aranel looked at Legolas with pity. "I knew this would 
happen. I knew that you would be taken in. I told 
Father that you were too young and impressionable to 
go to that place alone."

Legolas felt his anger flare and he turned, walking 
past his brother up the hill. "You don't know 
anything, Aranel. Nothing at all."

He watched his brother stomping off and sighed, 
disquiet settling upon him. "I know more than you 
can imagine, Legolas. More than you know." 

***

Dinner that night was elegant, Thranduil never traveling 
without a certain style. He sat at the table, the stars 
overhead bright in the sky as his party ate dinner and 
talked. Legolas sat nearby, his two brothers on either 
side in places of honor. He wasn’t old enough or high
enough in rank to earn such placement. It occurred to 
him then that he sat many times next to Elrond, the 
place of honor freely given him by that exceptional 
person. 

He sighed, lost in thought, only noticing his father 
speaking to him after being prodded by someone. 
Turning toward Thranduil, he sat straighter.

"Legolas, I wanted to know how you were. As it is 
you were lost in some waking dream," his father 
admonished to the delight of all around him. 

Legolas flushed slightly, sighing inwardly. "I am 
well, Father."

"Tell us about Rivendell and the great lord of the 
valley," Thranduil prodded, an edge entering his 
voice.

Legolas cultivated a bland expression, shrugging 
slightly. "He is learned and lives in a great 
house surrounded by waterfalls. The river flows 
through the middle and great trees shelter the 
people."

"I am told that he lives in great luxury," Aranel 
said, watching Legolas’ face as he considered the 
comment.

"His wealth is of many kinds. He does not value 
gold or silver as much as wisdom and conversation."

"Then he is a great fool," Galdor replied. The 
younger of the two oldest sons of Thranduil, he 
was the most like their father and he spoke 
bluntly often.

Legolas felt his face become frozen, so great was 
his rage and he worked to control it, loathe to 
let anyone know of his anger. He shrugged and 
looked away, ignoring the comment but it was clear 
on his face how he felt about it. Galdor leaned 
forward, peering at his youngest sibling with 
interest.

"Tell me, Legolas ... what say you about the great 
lord of the manor?"

Legolas looked at him, his face composed but his 
eyes filled with fire and shrugged casually. "My 
views are hardly worth mentioning."

"I would like to hear them, Legolas. Truthful 
ones," Thranduil said, looking at his son through 
wary eyes.

Legolas looked at him and then sighed, shrugging. 
"He’s different than us."

"Different? How?" Galdor continued.

"His goals for his people and his country are 
different than ours. His likes and dislikes 
different. Just different."

It was quiet a moment and then Aranel leaned 
forward, peering at his brother with intensity. 

"Then, Legolas, if your stay in the great city 
is cut short you won’t have any regrets?"

Legolas turned and met Aranel’s gaze, holding 
it levelly. "None."

It was silent again and then Thranduil poured 
himself a glass of wine. He looked at his son 
over the top of the glass and nodded. "Then I 
shall see to it that this is come to pass as 
soon as the Lord and Lady permit."

Legolas shrugged, his stomach turning over at 
the thought. For the rest of the meal he didn’t 
eat nor speak, instead concentrating on the 
only thing that mattered. Figuring out how to 
return down the valley to Rivendell.

***

By the time he was ready to leave, Legolas was 
almost coming out of his skin. He lingered 
outside the tent of his father, waiting to bid 
him farewell, when Galdor and Aranel stepped 
out, noticing him pacing by his horse. Galdor 
nudged his brother and walked over, Legolas 
pausing nervously.

"You are going back to clean the boots of the 
great lord of the valley."

Legolas stared at Galdor, his aggravation barely 
contained. "I go back to do what the Lord and 
Lady of the Wood have commanded, what my father 
has been told to do for the good of all of us."

Aranel sighed and turned to leave when Thranduil 
stepped from the tent, a message tube in hand. 
He walked to the boys and handed the tube to 
Legolas.

"Put that in your bags and give to Elrond with 
your own hand," he said, watching as Legolas 
complied. He held out his hand and they clasped 
arms, Thranduil squeezing Legolas’ hand. "Take 
care with yourself and come back to your mother 
and I the same good boy you left us."

"Tell my mother I miss her," Legolas said, his 
eyes burning in spite of his irritation.

"She knows that. She sends her love to you," 
Thranduil said, watching as Legolas mounted his 
horse. "I will intercede with the Lady and Lord 
of Lothlorien and see if I can end this farce 
before you face the winter snows."

Legolas bit his lip and nodded, fear creeping 
into his heart. "Farewell," he said, moving 
past the group and out to the trail that would 
take him back to Rivendell. A group of soldiers 
formed around him and they galloped out of 
camp on their way. 

Aranel watched them go and turned to Thranduil, 
considering the images that filled his mind, 
images that had formed there from the moment 
Legolas returned.

"He is kindly disposed to Rivendell and its 
Lord," he said, watching his father’s face. 

"So it would seem," Thranduil said, watching his 
youngest child disappear from view. "I feared as 
much, so impressionable my Green Leaf is but I 
will send my embassy to Celeborn and seek his 
return before he suffers anymore from exposure 
to people I cannot countenance."

Galdor nodded, looking at the empty road. "I 
fear you may be too late as it is."

Thranduil had no comment to that.

***

By the time they arrived in Rivendell, the sun 
was beginning its descent through the sky. 
Legolas dismounted and pulled his saddle bags 
off, watching as Glorfindel talked to Ellan for 
a moment. The group demurred, preferring to 
head back and so they stood together, watching 
as the Mirkwood Elves followed their Imladris 
counterparts back out through the labyrinth 
of checkpoints that marked entrance to the city.

"You look well," Glorfindel said, smiling at 
the youngster before him.

"I am glad to be back," Legolas said, his 
heartfelt joy evident. 

"Give me your gear and go see the Lord of the 
house. I will take care of your horse," 
Glorfindel said, reaching for Legolas’ saddle 
bags.

Legolas smiled broadly and almost handed them 
over before remembering his father’s message. 
He took it and explained to Glorfindel, turning 
and hurrying inside, his eyes searching here 
and there as he hurried.

Climbing the stairs two by two, he hurried with 
pounding heart to the study where Elrond usually 
was, bursting inside once there. Elrond looked 
up, rising from his reading table and smiled, 
filled with pleasure at the sight. Legolas was 
covered with trail grime, his hair windblown and 
his arms filled with baggage but to Elrond he 
was beautiful.

"I came straight back," Legolas said, closing 
the distance between them. He rushed forward, 
dropping his bag and flung himself into Elrond’s 
arms. He kissed the older man, passionately and 
wildly, so happy was he to see him once more.

Elrond staggered back, the full weight of the 
youngster falling against him and embraced 
Legolas tightly. He kissed him over and over, 
tongue and lips having their way and when 
they stepped back, breathless and disheveled, 
Elrond laughed out loud.

"I would hate to see what you were like if 
you were gone for a week," he said, hugging 
the youngster again.

Legolas hugged him, running his fingers 
through Elrond’s long hair. "I would be twice 
as desperate for you, my Lord. Twice as needy."

Elrond sighed, holding him tightly. "I would 
never want to put you in such sad straits," he 
said, kissing Legolas’ neck over and over. 

They stood together and then Legolas remembered, 
turning and retrieving the message tube from 
his father. He turned and handed it to Elrond, 
uncertain what it might contain. "My father 
gave me this. I don’t know what it contains but 
I think you should have it what with the unrest 
along the frontier."

Elrond nodded and pulled the message out, turning 
toward the window to read it in better light. 
Legolas watched him, desperate to pick up where 
they left off but as Elrond read the message, his 
expression hardened and by the time he was 
finished he was filled with outrage. 

Legolas looked at him as he turned, filled with 
fear and anxiety and watched as Elrond crumpled 
the message and threw it into the fire nearby.
He stood breathless with fear as he watched his 
lord stand like a statue near the window. He 
didn’t dare move. He didn’t make a sound. He 
just waited palsied with fear for something to 
happen.

Anything.

************************************************
c2002 Jan. 21 ]:> TBC
************************************************

************************************************ 
Title: Fortunate Son <10/?> 
Author: Arctapus, Helmboy, ]:> 
Codes: LOTR, Many, R and Up, Non-Au 
Post: Appropriate places 
Disclaimer: This story is mine. The world isn't.  
I imply no copyright infringement by using it. 
 
See part one for all other information. Thank you. 
************************************************ 
 
For a moment there was only a seething rage,  
pulsing and jabbing within him as he stood in  
silence. Then he turned back to the fire, his  
face filled with anger, moving toward it in his  
emotional turmoil. That is when he caught a  
glance, just a glance and paused, the figure  
of Legolas once more registering.  
 
Turning, staring at his pale face and wide eyes,  
he swallowed hard. Licking dry lips he gathered  
his emotions tightly, moving to stand in front  
of the youngster. Legolas stepped back, his  
hands clenched tightly. 
 
"Legolas ..." Elrond whispered, resting his  
hands on Legolas’ arms. There was a tremor  
and then he stilled, his wide eyes looking  
into Elrond’s own, fear and trepidation  
palpable. "I’m sorry." 
 
Legolas relaxed minutely, moving closer to Elrond.  
He lay his head on Elrond’s shoulder, relaxing  
more when Elrond encircled him with his arms.  
They stood together for minutes and minutes and  
then Legolas stepped out, walking to the fire  
and kneeling.  
 
"What did it say?" he asked, his voice a soft  
whisper. He looked up at Elrond, staring at him  
with sad eyes. "What did my father say that  
wounded you so?" 
 
He stood silently a moment and then he sighed.  
"It’s nothing for you to worry about." 
 
Legolas rose and stared at him. "It is. I wish to  
know. My father will not come between us." 
 
Elrond considered his words and then moved to sit  
on a chair. Legolas moved to another and stared at  
him, resting his elbows on his knees. 
 
"Your father has made demands. First and foremost,  
they concern you. He wishes that you be given  
duties more compatible to your station. He also  
says that he expects that you will not be ... how  
did he put it ... 'molested' in any manner during  
your stay with me." 
 
"Molested?" Legolas asked, offended. "In what  
manner?" 
 
"Any manner. It appears that news of your game  
activities perhaps has reached him in some manner." 
 
"There was a crowd watching but it was nothing.  
The game was nothing," he protested.  
 
Elrond raised his hand. "It could have been  
enough to raise his ire." 
 
"So what!" Legolas said, rising. He turned toward  
the fire. "My father isn’t here. He isn’t going  
to direct me like I’m a child. I’m not one," he  
said, turning his piercing gaze upon Elrond.  
 
Elrond nodded. "I know."  
 
Legolas considered the rage he had seen and moved  
closer, sitting again. "There is more, more about  
me isn’t there." 
 
Elrond sighed. "He does not wish that you and I  
form any kind of personal relationship between  
us, that he expects you to remain ... unbothered  
by me ... to put it more delicately than he did  
..." Elrond sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Your  
father has the opinion that I am in some way  
corrupting you. What did he ask about when you  
were there?" 
 
Legolas thought. "He asked if I was well and  
there were questions about what the valley and  
household were like. He asked about you." 
 
"Did he now?"  
 
"I told him nothing," Legolas said rising. He  
walked to the window and turned, anger on his  
face. "I don’t tell them things that matter.  
My brothers and father ... they don’t know  
what matters to me because I never tell them.  
Only my mother knows me. Only her." 
 
Elrond rose and walked to him, pulling him into  
his arms. "Your father is a hard man, Legolas.  
If he knew that what he suspicions had any  
basis for fact, he would be here with an army." 
 
"My father can’t direct my life," Legolas said,  
stepping back from Elrond. "I make my own choices." 
 
Elrond smiled, feeling slightly better. "Your  
father has dominion over you for a few more  
years. You are still in your minority." 
 
"I can make my own way if I have to," he replied  
defiantly. Then he wavered, looking at Elrond  
silently for a moment. "I would think I have  
allies in the world now." 
 
Elrond pulled him into an embrace. "You do, my  
green leaf. You have ports in the storm." 
 
Legolas embraced him, holding him tightly as the  
misery of the moment bled away. All he wanted to  
do was be held. "I love you. Those days were  
long and empty without you." 
 
"As they were here," Elrond said, kissing Legolas’  
neck. "Have you eaten?" 
 
Legolas looked at him. "At a small pub in Bree." 
 
Elrond nodded. "Go and bathe. Change into clean  
clothes and join me for supper. I miss your  
company and I wish it." 
 
Legolas smiled and nodded, hesitating. "Are we  
all right?" 
 
Elrond nodded and kissed him softly. "We were  
never wrong." 
 
Legolas smiled, a brilliant sight and stooped,  
picking up his bags. He turned and stared at  
Elrond and turned again, leaving the room. Elrond  
stood a moment, staring at the door and the  
beautiful vision of the young man who had just  
left. Sighing, he turned and walked to his table,  
taking parchment and quill in hand. With a moment  
of reflection, he sat down and composed a reply  
to Thranduil of Mirkwood. 
 
*** 
 
They moved on, traveling down the road that  
followed the Bruinen River. It was Elrond’s road  
and his territory and the protocol of passage  
that would have permitted such a thing had not  
been pressed into service.  
 
Thranduil had made decisions, deciding in the  
growing crisis that he would have a larger role  
for himself and his kingdom than usual in the  
past. Before, the Elves of Lorien and Imladris  
were first in importance, the bulk of any army  
rising from their populations.  
 
Men rallied to them, the Men of the West and in  
the doing of things those hosts had accrued much  
glory. All of Thranduil's life, he had lived  
with the bitter ashes of his father's death,  
the sorrow of it turning sour in the memory.  
There was much to avenge he considered as they  
moved eastward, passing villages and towns that  
benefited from the influence of the Elves of  
the Bruinen Valley. 
 
At his side his sons rode, a handsome sight by  
any measure. They were golden-haired, tall and  
beautiful, the way of Elves everywhere but  
among the Noldor. Their dark hair set them  
apart in Thranduil's mind, reminding him of  
the disorder of his own family history. 
 
The day his father died was a black hole in his  
life, sucking the future downward as he struggled  
to pull it back up. He had to make things right  
and he raised his sons and daughter to standards  
that he felt were compatible with that goal.  
They would be self reliant, strong and hard  
enough to make tough decisions. His kingdom  
prospered under that outlook and he would  
enlarge it for his children by applying the  
same standards in all things. 
 
They moved on, going noticed everywhere and when  
the news arrived at Imladris, the great lord of  
the valley was not amused. But he hid it against  
the time he would rectify things, so unwilling  
was he to show his rage again. Legolas had been  
shocked and he wouldn't put him in the middle  
of things again. 
 
Rising from his desk, Elrond summoned an aide and  
gave a message tube to him. He told him that Lord  
Glorfindel would be taking it with him when he  
rode to Lothlorien the next day. He would deliver  
it personally to Thranduil, who would be on the  
road some place in between. The aide nodded and  
hurried away and as he did Elrond put the matter  
into the back of his mind. He had other more  
interesting matters to take care of now. 
 
*** 
 
Supper was light and conversation was plentiful.  
Elrond dined, feeling young at heart again. Many  
of the usual dinner guests were gone, Elrohir  
and Elladan out with companions searching the  
lay of the land in a quest for information on  
orc activity. Glorfindel excused himself as he  
was leaving early and pretty soon it was just  
the two of them together. 
 
Elrond smiled, pouring more wine and they sat  
together in companionable silence. Legolas had  
changed, the road grime gone from his appearance  
and he relaxed with his glass feeling more at  
home at that moment then he had in three days  
with his family. 
 
"Your mood, my Lord ... it has passed?" he  
ventured. 
 
Elrond smiled and nodded. "I am sorry for the  
storm. I have no wish to cause discord for you  
and your father. I would be loathe to have  
that happen to my own children." 
 
"My father is driven by ghosts," Legolas said  
with a sigh. "My grandfather still lives among  
us." 
 
"Your grandfather was an interesting man,"  
Elrond ventured.  
 
Legolas smiled in spite of himself. "I am sure  
that there are other adjectives you can apply  
should you choose to." 
 
Elrond smiled sheepishly. 
 
"But I'm glad you are kind," Legolas said, reaching  
over and squeezing Elrond's hand. "That part of you  
... the kindness ... it was unexpected and much  
appreciated." 
 
Elrond looked at him, at his gentle eyes and sighed.  
"I cannot imagine not being kind to you, not taking  
all the time necessary for you. Your father is a  
fool." For a moment it was quiet and Elrond shook  
his head. "That was wrong. I apologize." 
 
Legolas smiled. "Accepted." 
 
Elrond rose and pulled Legolas to his feet.  
"Let's go outside." 
 
They turned and walked together, moving to the  
balcony to stand alone. Candle light lit the  
room behind them and the glow of stars in the  
sky gave weak light to the woods surrounding  
them. The fall of water filled the air. 
 
"I missed the waterfalls," Legolas said, moving  
to the railing and looking out. "They sound  
like music to me." 
 
"When we first came here it was as if we had found  
a blessed place. The waterfalls were healing in  
those dark times." 
 
Legolas turned and looked at him. "You have age  
and wisdom. What do you see when you look at me?" 
 
Elrond considered his question, noting the interest  
and the unease in the youngster's eyes. 
 
"I see someone who will grow great in wisdom. I  
see someone who is worthy of love." Elrond smiled.  
"I see someone who will never cease to surprise  
me with the twists and turns of their personality." 
 
Legolas smiled, relaxing. "I wondered if we could  
find common ground. I knew that I wanted it but I  
wondered if that was an illusion, some kind of  
foolish desire from someone infatuated by another  
different from my own experience. I wanted to  
know." 
 
"And what did you find out?" Elrond asked, closing  
the distance between them. He stood close to  
Legolas, close enough to look into his eyes and  
feel his will slipping away. 
 
"I found someone who loved me, someone to love,"  
Legolas replied, his breath catching in his  
throat. He slid his hands up Elrond's arms,  
stepping into them as they closed around him.  
"I found a home." 
 
Elrond pulled him into an embrace and felt his  
heart fill with emotion. The youngster held him,  
sighing deeply and they stood together quietly. 
Nearby, sitting on a chair enjoying the solitude,  
Glorfindel watched.  
 
He considered the message that he had been given,  
the probability that it was a heated reply to  
something Thranduil had sent and he made a  
decision. He would go straight to Mirkwood. He  
wouldn't meet Thranduil on the road. 
 
He sat and watched as they stood together and when  
they turned and walked inside, he sighed. The night  
was still as he watched the sky change from evening  
to morning stars. 
 
*** 
 
It was quiet in the bedroom, Elrond's room, and as  
they stood together he considered their moment. He  
hadn't been with anyone in more years than he could  
count and now he was with someone who could have  
walked out of his dreams. Legolas held him, kissing  
his neck and he felt all of his reservations fall  
away. 
 
This wasn't the son of his worst enemy. This wasn't  
his squire, a very young man who was infatuated  
with him, a person he was responsible for. This  
was his lover, someone he had waited centuries to  
find and this one's pleasure was all that counted  
in his mind. 
 
Legolas was tall, as tall as he was and that was  
a novelty in and off itself. He had never had a  
lover this tall, he considered. Nor had he ever  
had one this young. He sighed and kissed Legolas  
softly, the youngster almost as hesitant as he  
was. It was a novel feeling. 
 
"All I wanted the whole time I was gone was this  
moment and now I feel ..." Legolas began. 
 
Elrond smiled. "You are not alone." 
 
Legolas slipped his arms around Elrond's neck,  
leaning in for a kiss. "I want you." 
 
Elrond sighed, his pleasure complete. "Come," he  
said, moving closer to the bed. He paused and  
stroked Legolas' face with his fingers. Then Elrond  
reached down and unfastened his shirt, moving it  
off his shoulders so that it fell to the ground.  
He sighed again, his fingers tracing a path from  
Legolas' shoulders, down his chest. It was hard 
and pale, well muscled from exercise and all he  
wanted to do was rub his face on the smooth  
perfection of it.  
 
"That feels so good," Legolas whispered, closing  
his eyes and letting his head fall backward. His  
pale throat called to Elrond and he touched it,  
leaning in to trail kisses along its pale length.  
"More," he whispered, smoky eyes gazing into  
Elrond's.  
 
Elrond felt his body surge, need rising in him and  
he nodded, reaching down and unfastening Legolas'  
trousers. They slid down, pooling at his feet and  
with them went his shorts, revealing his firm legs  
and ass to Elrond's hungry eyes.  
 
He pulled Legolas into his arms, his hands sliding  
down and gripping firm flesh, the youngster melting  
into his body as he did. All he wanted was to bury  
himself in that flesh but he knew that would not  
come soon. There was much to experience and to  
learn before such an intimate step and the first  
time together wasn't the moment for such trust. 
 
"Remove your clothing," Elrond whispered, watching  
as Legolas hurriedly complied, his fevered hands  
making short work of his remaining clothing.  
Elrond chuckled, watching as Legolas hopped out  
of his boots, a grin forming on his perfect  
features as he found the humor himself.  
 
He stood naked before Elrond, a chuckle on his lips  
and then his expression stilled, the fire and  
desire in Elrond's eyes striking him mute. He stood  
staring back, the tension between them great and as  
he did, Elrond began to disrobe. 
 
************************************************ 
c2002 Jan. 21 ]:> TBC 
************************************************

************************************************ 
Title: Fortunate Son <11/?> 
Author: Arctapus, Helmboy, ]:> 
Codes: LOTR, Many, R and Up, Non-Au 
Post: Appropriate places 
Disclaimer: This story is mine. The world isn't.  
I imply no copyright infringement by using it. 
 
See part one for all other information. Thank you. 
************************************************ 
 
His eyes never left Elrond's, the demeanor of the  
great lord so commanding that his will evaporated.  
Elrond's robes slipped away, falling to the floor  
and yet his eyes never wavered. Legolas was caught  
in the heat of the older man's gaze. For a moment  
Legolas was standing, his breath trapped short in  
his lungs and then he was flat on his back, lying  
next to the Lord of Imladris, helpless to resist  
his will. 
 
Elrond's hand, his fingers themselves, stroked  
the soft skin at the base of his neck and he  
felt electrical energy surge through his body,  
radiating out of the tips of his fingers and  
toes. The fingers slipped slowly down, tracing  
a path along his chest, lingering here and  
there with feather-like touches.  
 
He shifted, the pleasure rising in his body as  
they continued their inexorable journey southward,  
pausing on his flat stomach, gently caressing his  
skin. He closed his eyes, captive to the skill of  
his lover and as he lay there all that he hoped  
for was coming to pass. 
 
Elrond looked at the bounty lying before him and  
felt a terrible possessiveness rising through him.  
Thranduil's son would be his in ways his father  
never imagined and he would never give him up, no  
matter what the consequences. He leaned down,  
gently flicking his tongue over a dark nipple,  
relishing the sharp sound of pleasure that issued  
from Legolas' lips. Strong hands stroked his hair,  
fingers slipping through the dark tangles and he  
moved up, finding Legolas' soft lips once more. 
 
He shifted, half lying on the youngster as he  
kissed him, his leg pressing between Legolas'. The  
youngster moved, his legs opening and in that moment  
Elrond gave himself over to their mutual pleasure,  
pulling Legolas' leg toward him as he sought contact.  
There would be no conscious thinking now, no rational  
reflection. There would only be two bodies entwining  
together and the need between them.  
 
Moving again, he lay himself on top of Legolas,  
slipping his hand through the thick golden hair  
of the youngster as his tongue made its own way  
in all the sweet regions of his mouth. They kissed,  
Legolas' groans swallowed by Elrond's lips and then  
he paused, staring down into Legolas' flushed face.  
The youngster looked at him, a ragged sigh escaping  
his lips. Strong hands slid up Elrond's back and  
Legolas raised his legs, gripping Elrond's hips.  
 
Elrond felt his body aching with need and he reached  
between them, moving slightly to align their bodies  
together. He waited, watching pleasure drift across  
Legolas' face. It was exquisite to him and as he  
watched, Legolas whispered. 
 
"More," he sighed, turning and kissing Elrond's  
shoulder. "Please." 
 
Elrond leaned down and captured his mouth, thrusting  
himself against Legolas' body. The youngster groaned,  
his breath caught in his throat and then Elrond moved  
again, finding a rhythm between them that satisfied  
both. 
 
Legolas sighed, slipping his arms around Elrond's  
back, his fingers gripping smooth muscles as he held  
on. The pleasure of Elrond's efforts overrode his  
conscious thoughts and all he could do was hold the  
older man, drinking in the sensations he created. 
 
Elrond was all that could register in his overheated  
mind and he raised his legs higher, holding tighter  
as the rhythm got rougher. Lips kissed him, hands  
gripped his hair and a strong body surged against  
him, the friction burning his across his slick belly.  
It was overpowering and his reality fell farther and  
farther into sensation.  
 
Sweat trickled into his eyes, running down his face.  
Sweat gathered on his belly, the sweat of his own  
body and Elrond's and as the older man drove against  
him, they slid together, the warmth between them  
almost more than he could bear. 
 
He cried out, pulsing sensation rising from his groin  
and as he did Elrond increased his movement, his lips  
capturing Legolas'. He was trapped in pleasure,  
ensnared by it and all he wanted was for it to  
continue forever. But it wasn't to be and when he felt  
his orgasm coming, he cried out, arching against the  
older man holding him so tightly.  
 
He felt it roll away, like thunder across the mountains  
but Elrond wasn't finished. Legolas tightened his grip,  
his long legs holding on and as Elrond finally finished, 
groaning loudly in Legolas' ear as he spasmed, he felt 
exhilaration at long last. 
 
Elrond lay still, fallen into Legolas and as he rested, 
strong hands stroked his hair. He sighed raggedly, the  
heat of his skin matched by the heat of Legolas' body.  
He didn't want to move. He wanted to lie where he was  
wrapped in Legolas' arms and legs, sheltered from the 
complications and loneliness of his country's  
responsibilities.  
 
"I love you," a soft voice said.  
 
Elrond smiled, raising his head, looking into soft blue  
eyes that looked back with adoration. "I love you,  
Melme." 
 
Legolas smiled, rolling with his lover as Elrond moved  
off. They entwined together, Elrond's hands brushing  
damp blond hair back from Legolas' face. He sighed  
deeply, contented in a way he couldn't have imagined.  
He had no idea how arid his life had been before this  
moment, the loneliness that had been his lot unknown  
in its magnitude until now. 
 
He kissed Legolas' forehead, his hand tracing small  
circles on the youngster's shoulder. He was content.  
The room was silent a moment and then Legolas rose up,  
staring at him.  
 
"May I be with you? Must I sleep alone now?" 
 
Elrond considered his request and sighed. "No. But no  
one must know. This is a breach of unimaginable  
magnitude, Legolas. No one must know what has happened  
between us." 
 
He nodded, sighing. "Because I am your squire." 
 
"Yes," Elrond replied, sighing against Legolas' lips  
as he leaned down to kiss him. "You are." 
 
He pulled the youngster against him, holding him tightly.  
If anyone were to know of this moment, he considered,  
the consequences to all concerned would be enormous. 
 
The night was silent as they lay together. The stars  
were long fading in the sky before either found sleep. 
 
*** 
 
He left early, his guard riding along with him. They  
passed signs of Thranduil's host, the telltale markings  
of an army on the march. He hurried along, turning  
toward Mirkwood and the one he sought. It would take  
days but when he arrived, he was welcomed into the  
household, such was his reputation among his own kind. 
 
She greeted him, hugging him tightly.  
 
"Glorfindel, what brings you here to our house?" she  
asked, breathless for news on her son. "Is Legolas  
all right?" 
 
"He is well, Lady," Glorfindel replied. "I bring news  
of his good health and beg of you a favor beneficial  
to us both." 
 
She nodded and turned, the two walking to a sitting  
room where they talked for three hours. When they  
finished, Glorfindel left, message tube in hand and  
continued his journey to Lothlorien. 
 
*** 
 
The days passed, news coming from abroad about orc  
activity. It appeared to center along the border  
lands of Lothlorien and Mirkwood. The idea of a  
conflagration was growing and when Celeborn asked for  
a Council at Rivendell, they threw themselves into  
preparations with their usual efficiency. 
 
Horsemen arrived from all around, delegates from  
Lothlorien, Mirkwood and the realms of Men. Into  
the great gate of Rivendell they rode, entering  
the house to be greeted by its master. Standing by  
his side, working with great care, Legolas watched  
as the gathering came together. 
 
There was an excitement in the air, people arriving  
whom he had only heard of in tale and song and when  
the day arrived for his father to come, he stood in  
the courtyard waiting. Horsemen approached and  
entered, dismounting together, their eyes turned  
toward the beauty of the buildings surrounding them. 
 
Legolas searched them for his father, expecting him.  
He wasn't in the group. Galdor was there as  
ambassador for their kingdom and he walked toward  
Legolas, a smile on his face. 
 
"Are you here to take my horse or are you the  
master's greeter?"  
 
Legolas bit back his retort and stared at him,  
considering what he should say. Then he shrugged.  
"I was expecting Father. I guess I'll have to settle  
for you." 
 
Galdor snorted in spite of himself and gazed around, 
impressed with what he saw. "This is a beautiful place, 
he said, his eyes bright with amusement.  
 
"You will find it so." 
 
He turned and walked inside, his bemused brother  
following along with his companions. Inside,  
talking to several other arrivals, Elrond stood.  
Galdor looked at him, studying the figure that had  
almost mythical status among their people. He moved  
forward, passing Legolas who stood respectfully and  
joined the group. They turned and looked at him,  
Elrond's gaze meeting Galdor's easily. 
 
"Lord Elrond," Galdor said. 
 
Elrond's gaze met his and he nodded. "You are the  
representative from Mirkwood I take it. Galdor, I  
believe." 
 
"Prince Galdor, representative of the Kingdom of  
Mirkwood." He gave a tiny bow, almost with regret  
and he turned, gazing at his brother. "I would ask  
your leave to speak to your squire. It has been a  
long time since we confided in each other." 
 
Elrond glanced at Legolas, taken by the lack of  
expression on that normally expressive face and nodded.  
"I would be amiss in my regard for your family and my  
squire to deny such a request. Legolas, you may attend  
to your brother." 
 
He nodded and moved with his brother, who then turned  
and followed as a young lady showed them the way to  
their rooms. Legolas walked up the stairs, watching  
as Galdor looked around. They passed the room where  
Narsil lay in fragments, the great libraries and  
other public rooms of the house. Walking down a  
corridor, she showed them where they would stay and  
left them, Legolas entering with his brother.  
 
It was a beautiful room, like all the others of the  
house and his brother admired it, turning and smiling  
at his brother. "You were right when you said it was  
different." 
 
The others with Galdor found chairs or walked to the  
balcony, staring out at the mountains on the other  
side of the river. It was quiet for a moment and then  
Galdor gestured Legolas to follow. They walked to a  
corner of the balcony that was unclaimed. He stared  
at his brother, considering his words. 
 
"The meeting tomorrow is important to our kingdom.  
Father expects that our people will play a great  
role in the coming battles against the orcs. I ask  
that you tell me what you know of Lord Elrond's  
mind in this matter." 
 
Legolas considered his words and shrugged. "I know  
not. He doesn't confide affairs of state in me. I  
am but his squire." 
 
Galdor smirked. "You have access to his person. You  
have ears. Surely you have heard private  
conversations between the lord and his advisors." 
 
"I haven't. I take care of his horses and his rooms.  
I fetch and carry and do his bidding. I am not privy  
to his great conversations, Galdor." 
 
The older man considered his words. "You aren't  
privy or you aren't telling?" 
 
Legolas felt a flash of color warm his cheeks and  
anger flared in his eyes. "Do you believe that I  
would undermine our country? Do you believe that I  
don't love my father?" 
 
Galdor considered his reaction and shrugged. "I  
believe you are bewitched by this place. I believe  
that Elrond has cast a spell upon you. You are not  
truthful with me, Legolas." 
 
"In what subject?" Legolas asked, his own emotion  
rising. 
 
"You have knowledge but you keep it from me, your own  
brother. You would put the interests of Imladris  
ahead of Mirkwood." 
 
Legolas glared at him, his rage rising. "You speak  
without proofs. Your hatred of Lord Elrond ill  
serves our country, Galdor." 
 
"Perhaps, perhaps not. What does your feelings mean  
for our people, Legolas? What are you keeping from  
me that can make a difference for our country?" 
 
Legolas stared at him, his expression hard and cold.  
"Nothing," he lied and then he turned and walked  
out, leaving his brother and his company alone.  
 
Ellan stepped forward, leaning against the railing  
beside Galdor. "Trouble in paradise?" he asked. 
 
Galdor smirked, glancing at the tall quiet man  
beside him. "I don't know," he said, musing on the  
enigma of his youngest brother. "I am not sure." 
 
*** 
 
Dinner was sounded and all arrived, sitting about  
the table according to rank. Elrond sat in his  
chair at the head of the table, elevated above  
all in rank. Men sat side by side, the kings and  
chieftains of far off places. Elves sat in groups,  
golden and dark-haired, talking together with few  
mixing. The few that did were of the elder  
variety, Glorfindel, Haldir of Lorien and Ellan  
of Mirkwood of one example.  
 
Legolas stood beside Elrond's chair, attending to  
his lord as was his duty. He didn't look in his  
brother's direction even as he felt his brother's  
eyes upon him. He sighed internally and willed  
himself to outwait the day. 
 
Elrond noted his nervousness and chalked it up  
to the moment. Their privacy might be impaired  
by Galdor's presence, he considered. Perhaps it  
would be best to be separate until the meeting  
was over and all left for their separate lands.  
 
Dinner finished and men and women rose, walking  
past the courtyard to the great rolling lawn  
behind the house. Several of the younger men had  
decided to match skills, testing the honor of  
their countries by shooting. Legolas felt a hand  
on his arm and turned, gazing into Galdor's 
eyes. 
 
"Fetch your bow and arrows, Legolas. You will be  
shooting for Mirkwood this day." 
 
Legolas sighed and turned, walking through the  
house to his room. He entered, the barely visited  
place seemingly destitute to him and found his  
weapons. He returned to the dining room, finding  
it empty and continued out, noting the array of  
personages settling for the shooting. 
 
Elrond had commanded that targets be set, the  
colorful little stakes being driven into the great  
expanse of lawn that stretched out before them.  
They were barely visible and far away, many of  
them, making the shooting to come difficult at  
best. 
 
Galdor motioned him over and he went, shifting on  
his quiver. "You will be our champion. I don't  
believe that there are any here who can best you.  
Make your shots well, Legolas. Our country's honor  
is at stake." 
 
Legolas nodded and turned, noting great archers  
gathering for their turn. He looked down the  
course, noting the farthest stave bearing red.  
He calculated the distance and checked the wind,  
determining that with skill and silence he would  
make the shot with care. 
 
Behind him, watching from a seat of honor, Elrond  
of Rivendell sat enraptured. 
 
************************************************ 
c2002 Jan. 21 ]:> TBC 
************************************************

************************************************ 
Title: Fortunate Son <12/?> 
Author: Arctapus, Helmboy, ]:> 
Codes: LOTR, Many, R and Up, Non-Au 
Post: Appropriate places 
Disclaimer: This story is mine. The world isn't. 
I imply no copyright infringement by using it. 
 
See part one for all other information. Thank you. 
************************************************ 
 
A cheer rose up as the arrow landed near to the  
stave that marked the farthest point. The shooter,  
a man from the Dale smiled and mock bowed,  
gathering the compliments of the crowd to himself.  
 
Legolas watched, noting many fine shots and  
considered his own. He was probably the finest  
archer there, at least among the tested ones and  
he had little worry about his own shooting.  
Besides, he had someone besides his father to  
shoot for. Elrond had never seen him before and  
he looked forward to demonstrating his skill for  
his lover. 
 
Elrond sat in his chair, the older members of the  
gathering sitting with him and he applauded at  
the best shots along with the others. When there  
was a lull in the movement before him, his eyes  
strayed to Legolas and he watched the lanky  
youngster as he awaited his turn. He sighed, the 
pleasure of the moment filling him with joy, and  
when Glorfindel kicked his ankle, he nearly  
jerked.  
 
He glanced at his friend and then straightened in  
his seat, discomforted both by Glorfindel's  
acknowledgement of his gawking and his own lack  
of discretion. He cast a glance at Galdor, the  
Elf's stern gaze upon him and he suppressed a  
sigh, determined not to let his thoughts wander  
again. 
 
Legolas stepped up, affixing an arrow and the  
crowd grew silent, watching as he fixed his eye  
on the farthest marker beyond. After a second he  
let go of his string and the arrow flew away,  
finding its mark as swiftly. The crowd gasped and  
a young boy ran out, checking the shot against  
the red stave. They were wedged together, fixed  
into the ground and a cheer rang up when he ran  
back and said so. 
 
Legolas smiled and turned, glancing at Elrond,  
who sat clapping, leaning toward Glorfindel as  
he whispered. Feeling slightly chagrined at the  
lack of full attentiveness at his lover, he  
turned and caught Galdor's glance, remembering  
right away why it was so. 
 
He sighed and waited, taking his shots and when  
he had fired four times, was declared the best  
shot of the match. As he turned and walked back  
from collecting his arrows, he noted that a  
number of men and Elves were gathered around  
Elrond. The look on Elrond's face was  
noncommittal but he could tell that the lord  
was not pleased. Hurrying up, he got in on the  
end of the conversation which basically was a  
challenge to him. 
 
"I would wager that the Lords of the First Age  
are no match for those of this one. I would  
challenge them to a match of their own choice,  
swords, bows or even a more basic physical art." 
 
Galdor stood before Elrond, a slight smile on  
his face. Elrond stared at him as did  
Glorfindel, Haldir, Ellan, and Cirdan. All of  
them were being called out and he considered  
what it would take to make Galdor crawl on  
his belly. 
 
Legolas watched, his heart pounding as everyone  
waited for Elrond's response. Finally, after a  
moment of tension, Elrond rose and unfastened  
his robe. Handing it to a younger Elf standing  
behind him, he motioned to Legolas. He walked  
over and stood, looking at him with concern. 
 
"I would like your bow, Legolas," Elrond said,  
holding out his hand. Legolas handed it over  
and Elrond took it, testing its tensile  
strength against his own. Satisfied, he pulled  
three arrows from the quiver on Legolas' back,  
walking toward the firing line and placing two  
of them on the ground.  
 
Legolas watched him, his heart in his throat.  
Elrond was a renowned warrior, his story sung  
in song by all kindred's but Legolas has not  
seen him shoot in all the days that he had been  
here. He had no idea how much skilled the man  
was in the context of his life here. It was  
with a pounding heart that he watched Elrond  
carefully affix an arrow. 
 
It was silent, as silent as ever it could be  
as Elrond took aim, Glorfindel standing beside  
him, the other two arrows in his hand. He  
watched as his friend, a man as a son to him  
take careful aim, the honor of the First Age  
completely in his hands.  
 
Breath was held by most present as Elrond let  
go and the arrow flew high into the sky. A  
careful arc downward placed it very, very close  
to the red stave and exhales were audible as  
Elrond lowered his bow. Cheers went up and  
Legolas blinked back tears, so great was his  
relief at the skill his lover so clearly still  
possessed. Glorfindel laughed out loud, mock  
bowing to Elrond, who laughed as well.  
 
Elrond sighed, yearning to look at Legolas but  
daring not to. His own relief at the muscle  
memory of a lifetime of practical skill was  
enormous but he disguised it with mock cheer. 
He shot two more arrows, each one landing as  
perfectly as the other and when he finished,  
he handed the bow off to Glorfindel.  
 
One by one, the giants of the First Age fired,  
landing their arrows with a precision that  
belied their age. Haldir of Lorien, Ellan of  
Mirkwood, Cirdan and Glorfindel, they put  
their marks and made their point and when it  
was over, good cheer and respectful admiration  
was the order of the day. 
 
Galdor watched his brother, noting the tension  
on his face followed by relief and exhilaration.  
It was clear that he was under the influence  
of the Lord of the House and he wondered what  
it would mean for the future of Mirkwood. The  
shooting broke up, people moving to relax on  
the terraces and in the great common rooms of  
the last homely house.  
 
Elrond donned his robe and followed his  
contemporaries inside, all the while taking  
the congratulations of the crowd. Into the  
house they went and Legolas became busy pouring  
wine and listening to the tales of older times  
as the elder among them began to recite them.  
 
Laughter and conversation, singing and games of  
chance carried them on into the night and when  
the crowds began to break up it was with amity  
and good cheer. Legolas worked with other  
youngsters, putting the rooms and terraces in  
good order and by the time he was ready to  
retire, he was pleasantly tired. 
 
Climbing the stairs, he entered his room, the  
door closing behind him. He sighed and looked  
around, the emptiness resounding. Walking to  
his bed he sat and sighed again, wishing he  
were elsewhere. As he did, a tapping on his  
window caught his eye and he turned, rising  
and walking over. Pulling it open, he almost  
cried out in surprise, covering his mouth  
just in time. 
 
Elrond crouched on the ledge, gesturing Legolas  
to move back. He did and Elrond slipped inside,  
closing the window behind him. He turned and  
grinned at Legolas' profound incredulity. He  
pulled him into his arms and kissed him soundly. 
 
"For the life of me, Melme, I have done some  
odd things since you came into my life and I  
have to say that I regret none of them." 
 
Legolas smiled and hugged him tightly. "I love  
you. You made me so proud of you with your bow.  
I am so proud of you!" 
 
Elrond chuckled, hugging Legolas back as  
tightly. "I surprised myself but some things  
are like falling off a horse I wager." 
 
"You showed them, all of them. You and the others.  
I was proud that moment when you showed them the  
majesty of the First Age." 
 
Elrond kissed him, thoroughly and well, sighing  
with pleasure against Legolas' soft lips. "You  
make me feel things. You make me willing to make  
a fool of myself. I can not believe that I  
crawled through a window for you, Melme." 
 
Legolas smiled, sighing with pleasure. "Of course  
you would. You cannot do anything but surprise me  
with your greatness." 
 
Elrond laughed, shaking his head. "Climbing through  
a lover's window in the middle of the night would  
hardly constitute greatness. I would think that it  
would generate other thoughts in the minds of  
observers." 
 
"They would not know my happiness," Legolas said  
softly, his eyes filled with love. "My happiness  
is so great I cannot imagine a life without the  
warmth of it." 
 
Elrond hugged him tightly, holding him close as  
they stood in the darkness together. Then a sound  
was heard in the hallway and they both froze in  
place. Legolas looked around and Elrond moved,  
slipping behind a screen in the corner of the  
room. The door handle waggled just as he slipped  
from view and Legolas turned just as the door  
opened.  
 
Galdor stood there, as did Ellan and they both  
came inside, shutting the door behind him. He  
turned and looked to Legolas, staring at him  
closely. 
 
"This afternoon, the contest outside, you were  
obviously in favor of Elrond." 
 
"I honor the elders of our people," Legolas  
countered, his back rising. "It is the respectful  
thing to do for those who have earned it." 
 
"Is that all you do, Legolas?" Galdor asked,  
moving closer. "Is respect all you give to  
Elrond?" 
 
Legolas stared at him, disgust on his face.  
"What do you want, Galdor?" 
 
"I want to know what is on the mind of Lord  
Elrond. I want to know what the outcome of  
the meeting tomorrow will be. Will it favor  
Mirkwood or not?" 
 
"Everyone has to help with the threat," Legolas  
countered. "No one kingdom can do it all alone." 
 
"But Mirkwood must be first in honor," Galdor  
replied, exasperation in his voice. 
 
"Mirkwood will win its honor. It can’t be given." 
 
Galdor looked around, noting the comfort of his  
room. "You have fine surroundings. Much like  
home. I have always believed you to be a spoiled  
part, Legolas. I cannot stand that you are a  
traitor to your own people." 
 
Legolas glared at him, moving closer with  
clenched fists. "I am no traitor. Take it back." 
 
Galdor stared at him, shaking his head. "I take  
nothing back. I will make sure that when I return  
to Mirkwood that Father knows how you are. You  
have been influenced for ill, Legolas, and it’s  
time you came home for good." 
 
He turned and walked out, Ellan following and  
the door shut tight behind him. Legolas stood  
a moment and then hurried to the door, turning  
the antique lock in its latch. When he turned  
back, Elrond was there and he flung his arms  
around his lover’s neck with deep emotion. 
 
They stood together, Elrond holding his lover  
and in his heart burned a fire that would never  
go out. He wanted to do things, terrible things.  
He hadn’t felt this way in many years, not  
since that day where it all fell apart, the  
day when Isildur took the ring and rode away. 
 
Tomorrow the meeting would come and he would  
have to be impartial, directing the decision  
to a solution best fit for all. Mirkwood would  
play for a strong role and the others would  
argue about what was right. In the end, he  
imagined it would replay an older time when  
the forces of their people divided to their  
peril at Mt. Doom. 
 
*** 
 
The bell rang once to summon people to the  
meeting and they filed in, sitting in groups  
together around the outdoor chamber where such  
were held. Sitting removed from all on a raised  
dais, empty chairs on each side of him filled  
normally by his sons but now by Cirdan and  
Glorfindel, Elrond stood and called the  
gathering to order. 
 
"Friends and strangers from far away lands, we  
gather together to discuss what to do about a  
rising threat in the east. Orcs are massing in  
hitherto unknown numbers and we have to make  
decisions about meeting this peril. 
 
"From the Dale and Gondor," he said, nodding to  
men who had traveled far, "from Mirkwood, the  
Lorien Wood, the Havens and beyond, we have  
come together to defend our countries." 
 
Around the room, standing and listening, were  
the liege men of many leaders. Legolas stood  
near to the Mirkwood delegation, his eyes fixed  
on Elrond. He was in his power, his wisdom and  
strength magnetic and Legolas couldn’t take  
his eyes off of him.  
 
He stood before them, his robes belying the  
physical strength that Legolas knew he  
possessed. The fillet of Mithral that adorned  
his head glinted in the bright light of the  
sun. He was beautiful to Legolas’ eyes. 
 
Galdor sat with his counselors and they listened  
as what was known was spoken by all around the  
circle. Even those that were the least directly  
affected were aware that unchecked the peril  
could spread. It was a cancer in their midst,  
this flowering of evil and they talked together  
how it might be plucked for good. 
 
Legolas listened, watching as the conversation  
played around the circle and when it came time  
to propose a solution, his brother stood. He was  
handsome, immaculately dressed and poised. He 
also had a hard look around his eyes that belied  
some of his beauty. 
 
"I am Prince Galdor of Mirkwood, Emissary from  
for my father, King Thranduil. It is his wishes  
that Mirkwood be given pride of place in the  
raising of an army and that half of the captains  
deployed in the midst of it be from our kingdom." 
 
A murmur sprung up, dissent already rearing itself  
in their midst and he raised his hand to quell it. 
 
"Our people are prepared to raise a host that will  
be more than sufficient for the bounty call. But  
we wish a voice in the deployment and field c 
ommands for the sacrifice we are prepared to make." 
 
Elrond sighed inwardly, glancing at Cirdan as he  
did. The other man sighed and nodded slightly as  
Elrond rose once more. "The King of the Great Wood  
is a generous man. We are much pleased with his  
offer. But the disposition of the host among the  
field commanders is a prerogative left to those  
that supply soldiers. The ultimate commander of  
the army is voted among the Council, chosen from  
those most able to lead it. King Thranduil is  
one name among many and as much as we welcome  
whole-heartedly his generous offer, we hold to  
tradition for the leadership of our army." 
 
Cirdan nodded, as did Glorfindel. The fair  
haired Elf rose and moved toward Galdor,  
pausing near to him and to one side of the  
round stone table that graced the meeting  
place. "Our leadership is meted out when the  
Ard Ri is vacant among those with the most  
experience among us. For that to be forsaken  
is to risk disaster for our enterprise. I  
would be sure that the great King of the  
Green Wood would remember that and honor it  
as a tradition of our peoples." 
 
"My father remembers much," Galdor said, his  
cold eyes falling upon Elrond. "He remembers  
his father’s blood pouring from his many  
wounds. He remembers the arrogance of the  
Ard Ri of your people, the arrogance of  
Gil-galad as he marched toward the mountain  
of the demon." 
 
Elrond felt the sting against his honor and  
stepped forward, Glorfindel moving between  
them automatically. 
 
"I find it remarkable, whelp, that you would  
speak of times you know not and men you never  
knew and judge them. Your grandfather was an  
impetuous man and his decision made his life  
end on his own. We could not save him and he  
refused to be saved. Your impertinence does  
your kingdom little good." 
 
Galdor glared at Elrond, the sting of his words  
rising the blood in him. "You are an impediment 
to the fortunes of my country and your insult  
to me will not go unpunished." 
 
"What do you propose? A duel?" Elrond asked,  
his voice cool and controlled.  
 
"It would appear appropriate but I would beg  
off," Galdor said, his voice dripping acid.  
"Woe be for me to cause the tears of my brother  
to fall." 
 
The room was hushed and Glorfindel turned,  
attempting to placate the pale and furious man  
behind him. Before he could, Elrond stepped  
around him and hit Galdor on the jaw with all  
of his considerable strength. He fell to the  
floor, landing with a jarring thud and as his  
men rose to turn on Elrond, bows filled with  
arrows and swords were pulled. It was still  
for a moment and then Galdor rose, rubbing  
his jaw. Before he could speak, Cirdan rose  
and walked over, standing between all of them,  
the seething Lord of Imladris and the  
murderous Prince of Mirkwood. 
 
"This is the wrong way," he said quietly. "This  
is not our way. If we wish to defeat the shadow  
that threatens us all we must be beyond petty  
things. You had no right to speak to Lord  
Elrond this way." 
 
Galdor almost spoke but the words didn’t come.  
He took a deep cleansing breath. "I am here to  
speak for my people." 
 
"Then you must but you have no right to impugn  
anyone in the doing of that," Cirdan replied.  
"We are here to fight orcs, not each other. In  
this place we will meet in peaceful circumstances.  
You will save your blood lust for the field of  
honor. You have disgraced your house and you  
must make amends." 
 
Cirdan was unbending, his dark gaze fixed squarely  
upon the Prince of Mirkwood. Legolas stared, his 
eyes dividing their time between Elrond, Cirdan  
and his brother. He could see the struggle, the  
rage that yearned to break free of the bind he  
was in and then he calmed, his dark eyes filled  
with hatred. "I concede to your impeccable wisdom,  
Lord Cirdan." 
 
No one moved, Cirdan watching as the younger man  
sat down again and then they all let out the  
breath they were holding, Legolas included.  
Elrond stood a moment and then turned and sat  
down himself, the anger in his eyes remaining  
even as the rage on his face faded away. 
 
For two more hours they would talk and the plans  
of all would be made. Each host would have their  
part of land to protect, each dovetailing neatly  
into the other. They would step out together,  
Cirdan’s forces and those of the coastal kingdoms  
falling under the command of Rivendell. Lothlorien  
would detail their own command and they would all  
work together. It was as it should be even though  
Mirkwood reserved the right to leave at their  
discretion. 
 
Elrond walked to the dining room that night, his  
eyes searching for Legolas. The meeting had  
drained him and his actions had maddened him. A  
controlled reasonable man, he hated unnecessary  
violence. He dreaded what it would mean to  
Legolas, his actions in the chamber.  
 
Looking around, walking in with his fellow  
delegates, he searched the crowd for his lover. 
 
************************************************ 
c2002 Jan. 21 ]:> TBC 
************************************************

************************************************ 
Title: Fortunate Son <13/?> 
Author: Arctapus, Helmboy, ]:> 
Codes: LOTR, Many, R and Up, Non-Au 
Post: Appropriate places 
Disclaimer: This story is mine. The world isn't.  
I imply no copyright infringement by using it. 
 
See part one for all other information. Thank  
you. 
************************************************ 
 
It was late when the last guest settled and he  
could leave for his own chambers. Walking down  
the hallway, he paused and continued on, not  
daring to see if Legolas was there in his room.  
Moving on, he entered the rooms that had been  
his for many centuries, stopping in the middle 
of the dark space that was his alone. He  
considered the long night ahead of him. 
 
He was still angry, unsettled by the comments  
made by Galdor. He had insulted Elrond and  
brought into thoughts of others, Legolas. He  
had insinuated that they were lovers, or more  
to the point, he was exploiting the younger  
man because that is what it would appear to  
be, exploitation. 
 
It boiled in him, the urge to fight and as he  
moved toward his bedroom, images of violence  
flared in his mind. He shoved them away as he  
pulled off his outer garment, tossing it on a  
chair as he began to disrobe. 
 
As he did, he heard a tapping on his window.  
Pausing, not daring to hope, he turned and  
walked toward it, watching as it opened and  
a figure slipped inside. He smiled and  
stepped forward, freezing as he recognized  
the face before him. 
 
Ellan of Mirkwood stood silently, noting  
the icy expression that formed immediately  
on the other's face. 
 
"What means you to invade my privacy in  
this manner?" Elrond asked, frost in his  
tone.  
 
Ellan sighed and moved forward, shaking his  
head and bowing slightly. "Forgive me, my  
Lord. I beg your indulgence.  
 
"You do?" Elrond replied, his voice icy. "Tell  
me what brings you here and then leave before  
I throw you out." 
 
Ellan sighed and shook his head. "You do me an  
injustice, my Lord. We are of the same  
generation and much is common in our experiences.  
I am not here as your enemy. I am here as a  
comrade of older times." 
 
Elrond studied him, noting nothing perilous  
from his spirit reaching him. He relaxed  
slightly. "What brings you here, Ellan?" 
 
He sighed and stared at Elrond, a pained  
expression in his eyes. "Old times. The shared  
love of a great king’s memory. I didn’t wish  
for you to think ill of me because of the  
foolishness of the son of the man whom I serve." 
 
"You are not responsible for Galdor," Elrond  
said, gesturing him to sit. They both did and  
Elrond waited, noting the intensity of the  
Elf’s demeanor. 
 
"I am not," he agreed, "but I love the house  
of the king of Mirkwood. His Lady is of good  
heart and she loves her youngest son dearly.  
She misses him and gives me this letter to  
give to him." 
 
He reached into his shirt and pulled a message  
tube, handing it to Elrond.  
 
"Why give this to me? Legolas is about. He would  
be gladdened by tidings from his mother." 
 
"I would," he said, "but I wished to make good  
between us what I felt had been broken." He  
sighed. "There are not so many among us that  
remember older times. I cannot damage what was  
good from then for the sake of an impetuous  
young fool." 
 
Elrond smiled and nodded. "It is not broken. I  
will ensure that this reaches the one intended  
at the first possible moment." 
 
Ellan smiled and rose, bowing slightly. "Then you  
gladden my heart. I will be leaving in the morrow  
for the land of my King. I hope that you know  
there are those in Mirkwood that hold warm thoughts  
for the Prince of Rivendell." 
 
Elrond smiled and extended his arm, the two locking  
hands in the warrior’s embrace. "That makes my heart  
glad as well, Ellan. I am very pleased that all is  
good between us." 
 
Ellan smiled and hesitated, turning slightly back  
from the window beyond. He considered his words  
and sighed. "You have affection for the young  
Prince. That is evident even though you do your  
best not to show it. I find that goodly. I know  
that the household, with the possible exception  
of my Queen will not. I suggest caution in your  
dealings and public appearances. It is known  
that news reaches us and causes disquiet in the  
family. I would hate to see discord arise  
between our two kingdoms over something as  
delicate as the heart." 
 
Elrond sighed and nodded, gratitude in his eyes.  
He watched as his comrade climbed out the window  
and was gone as silently as a cat. He walked to  
it, staring at the stars and then he looked at  
the message in his hand. He knew that Legolas  
would be gladdened to hear from his mother, so  
dear to him was she. But he didn’t dare take it  
to him, fearing not only being seen but the  
reception he might receive from his lover. 
 
Turning and placing it on the table beside his  
bed, he finished his toilet and retired to the  
bed. It felt cold and empty and he lay awake  
all night, missing the one he deemed so  
necessary that he could not rest without him. 
 
*** 
 
In the morning the guests began to depart to  
begin the difficult and time-consuming task of  
raising and outfitting armies. Some of the  
kingdoms were well underway, Mirkwood in  
particular and others had their jobs to do. 
 
Haldir of Lorien, Ellan of Mirkwood and Cirdan  
stood together, trading jokes with Glorfindel.  
Breakfast had been served and all were leaving,  
many traveling together until they had to part  
their given ways.  
 
Men had left, most of them traveling together  
and when the Prince of Mirkwood stepped out,  
he did so crisply, his silent younger brother  
in tow. He took Legolas to one side, talking  
to him intensely, the youngster listening  
without expression as he did. When he was  
through, he walked to his horse and mounted,  
his party joining him. 
 
Galdor stared at the house, finding the one he  
sought on a balcony far away. He stared at him,  
hating Elrond with a cold and passionate fury.  
Then he turned and without a word, led his  
party away. Glorfindel watched and then waved  
as Cirdan and Haldir rode out, their parties  
joining them and soon it was only the two of  
them in the courtyard.  
 
Glorfindel turned to Legolas, noting the morose  
expression on his face and sighed. Walking  
toward him, he paused, searching the youngster  
for signs of life. 
 
"You look terrible. What did he say to you to  
suck the marrow out of your bones?" 
 
Legolas shrugged, catching himself. He turned  
and looked at Glorfindel, the older Elf’s kind  
eyes scrutinizing him closely. "He gave me a  
sound hearing. I am to watch my step with the  
Lord of this house, keep my eyes open for any  
sign of betrayal and get ready to leave when  
he gets home." 
 
Glorfindel sighed and squeezed Legolas’ arm.  
"Your brother is a great fool." 
 
Legolas smiled slightly. "I told him so. Inside  
my head. I was hoping he would notice but he  
didn’t." 
 
"His head is carved of stone," Glorfindel said,  
grinning back. "Have you attended to your Lord  
this morning?" 
 
Legolas sighed and shook his head, staring at  
his feet sadly. 
 
"Then go you to do this thing. The squire of a  
great Lord is never idle." 
 
Legolas nodded and walked past the older Elf,  
entering the house he had come to think of as  
home. It was a long slow climb of the stairs  
to the long and winding corridor that led to  
the inner chambers that belonged to Lord  
Elrond alone. He stood at the door, hesitating  
for a moment and then he opened it, stepping  
inside nervously. 
 
Elrond was standing by the door to the balcony,  
watching Legolas as he entered. He walked to  
the middle of the room, wringing his hands for  
a moment before standing awkwardly before his  
master. 
 
"Why are you so nervous, Legolas?" Elrond  
asked, moving closer. "It is I who should be  
nervous, not you." 
 
"You, my Lord?" Legolas asked with surprise.  
"It is I who am ashamed. My brother brought  
dishonor to our house. He insulted you in the  
chamber, in front of your guests ... he made  
me squirm." 
 
"I hit him." Elrond noted a slight sigh from  
the lips he yearned for and he stepped closer,  
uncertain what to make of the reception he was  
being given. He expected anger and hurt,  
perhaps recrimination. He didn’t expect this  
and so he stood uncertain, wanting to gather  
the youngster up but afraid to do so. 
 
Fierce blue eyes met Elrond’s and he blinked,  
stepping back. Legolas clenched his fists and  
stepped forward, anger on his face. 
 
"You had every right to," he said, his voice  
filled with rage. "He had no right speaking to  
you that way. You are the Lord of this valley,  
a king of your own people and someone who has  
earned the right to have the respect of others.  
He didn’t have the right to speak to you that  
way!"  
 
Elrond stood a moment, blinking. Then he sighed  
and held out his arms, the youngster moving  
swiftly into them. He hugged Legolas, the  
youngster laying his head on Elrond’s shoulder.  
He smiled and closed his eyes in pleasure, the  
sweetness of the gesture becoming precious to  
him. He sighed. "You never cease to surprise me.  
I feared that I had damaged what is growing  
between us by my rash actions yesterday. I  
searched for you and yearned for you all night  
long." 
 
"And I, you," Legolas replied, sighing piteously.  
"I was so sorry when he spoke. It made a mockery  
of all that I feel about you. I love you. I know  
that is true. For him to speak of it like it was  
a tarnished thing made me weak with sorrow." 
 
"You were nowhere to be found," Elrond said. "I  
looked for you as best I could." 
 
Legolas was silent a moment and then he looked  
into Elrond’s eyes, his own filled with emotion.  
"I was with you." 
 
Elrond considered his words. "I could not find  
you." 
 
"Outside your window." Legolas turned and pointed  
to a large tree just outside the window of  
Elrond’s room. "I was there. I sat in the tree  
all night and watched you. I couldn’t bear to not  
be with you. But I was afraid that someone would  
find out and cause trouble for you." 
 
Elrond sighed, his heart melting with emotion.  
"I didn’t see you." 
 
"I was there," Legolas said, hugging Elrond’s  
neck. "I was there all night." 
 
Elrond gathered the youngster to him, the events  
of the past days washed away. He was clear with  
the one he loved the most and all the rest was  
for other hours. This one was for Legolas. He  
kissed him, holding him tightly and they moved  
to the bed, lying down side-by-side. Legolas  
faced his lover, his hands stroking Elrond’s  
hair.  
 
He moved closer, kissing Elrond softly and then  
he slipped into his arms, laying his head on his  
lover’s chest. A strong heart was beating and it  
comforted Legolas. The night had been lonely, the  
distance between them as mighty as the river  
beyond. Yet he stayed where he was, praying that  
Elrond would forgive him his brother’s arrogance. 
 
"You were worried," Legolas ventured, sighing as  
strong hands stroked his hair.  
 
"Only about you," Elrond replied, sighing as the  
youngster shifted his leg over Elrond’s. "I was  
sure you would be angry." 
 
"Then you don’t know me," Legolas said, sighing.  
He leaned up, staring down into Elrond’s face.  
"I give my heart to you. It’s all I have. There  
is nothing more than that for me to give to you." 
 
"That is more than you can know, Green Leaf,"  
Elrond whispered. "I have been so cold for so  
long, all I have is your warmth to make me feel  
alive again." 
 
Legolas stared at him, the nakedness of his  
feelings clear on his own face and then he  
rolled over, pulling the older man onto his body.  
Elrond moved and covered Legolas, the sensations  
of pure emotion flowing through him like a breeze  
over the ocean. He wanted nothing more than this  
and as he touched Legolas, his hand sliding  
inside the youngster’s shirt, he knew that he  
wished never to hear such uncertainty in his  
lover’s voice again. 
 
"You are a man of the world," Legolas whispered,  
his hands stroking the long tassels of black hair  
that spilled over Elrond’s shoulders. "I want to  
know what you know, to see things as you have  
seen them. It came clear to me at the meeting  
the difference between us. I have no knowledge  
of the world beyond the woods of my father. I  
want to know more, my Lord. I want you to show  
me." 
 
Elrond sighed and nuzzled Legolas’ neck, the  
words filing away in his mind for his dreams. He  
kissed the youngster, imparting as much love as  
he could manage. "You are precious to me,  
Legolas. Please never forget that. No matter  
what, remember what you mean to me." 
 
Legolas sighed, sliding his hands up Elrond’s  
back. "I want you," he whispered, his eyes  
closing in his need. "Please, my Lord." 
 
Elrond fell away inside the seduction of the words  
Legolas whispered and as they moved on the bed,  
forces beyond the walls of his fortress home were  
making their way into the world. 
 
***On the trail home ... 
 
They heard the calls and called back, watching  
as a number of riders hove into sight. They  
dismounted, greetings exchanged and then gathered  
around the fire, building it higher. Elladan and  
Elrohir, themselves heading for home with  
companions after the hunt, were glad to see the  
riders from Mirkwood and Lorien as they paused  
in the evening to take rest with them. 
 
Haldir dismounted, smiling at the two and pulled  
off a pack, tossing it on the ground. "Food and  
drink would be good about now. My hindquarters  
could use a rest from the trail." 
 
Others brought forth food, dividing it among the  
many and soon the fire was blazing and much  
merriment flowed. Galdor and Ellan sat together,  
the Prince’s face a sullen display. Ellan  
watched him with a wary eye, noting his gaze was  
fixed on the twin sons of Elrond.  
 
They talked of the trail ahead, the places they  
had explored, their exploits in hunting orcs of  
good reputation among the men. Much sign was  
made and few sightings as well and so they had  
time yet as only scouting parties appeared to 
be among them.  
 
The fire was burning low when Elrohir walked  
into the bushes to relieve himself before  
turning in. As he did, he heard a voice  
speaking. 
 
"Your aim is good. Tell me, Prince of Rivendell  
... how be you with a bow?" 
 
Elrohir cocked his head toward the speaker and  
finished his business, settling his clothing as  
he turned. "I have had no complaints with either  
bow or cock," he said, recognizing the figure  
before him.  
 
"I’m sure you haven’t," Galdor said, dropping  
small rocks onto the ground as he leaned against  
a tree. "But then from what I hear, Rivendell  
Princes are great whores." 
 
Elrohir felt fire flash through him but he  
gathered it, channeling it into his control.  
His father, despairing of his tendency to fight  
at the drop of a hat loomed in his mind and he  
struggled to remember his lessons. 
 
"Who would tell you that? Your mother?" Elrohir  
asked, just before the prince launched himself. 
 
They collided and fell to the ground, rolling  
over and over as they struggled together. Elrohir  
caught Galdor’s head in a forearm lock, wrapping  
his leg around Galdor’s torso. Hanging on,  
squeezing the life out of him, they rolled in  
the dirt.  
 
Rushing up, called by the commotion, members of  
the party hurried in. Elladan grabbed his brother,  
pulling him off as Ellan and others gripped  
Galdor. They lunged again and were mercifully  
restrained, pulled apart from each other. 
 
Ellan stepped between them, glaring at both.  
"Enough." 
 
For a moment there was silence and then Galdor  
shrugged off the hands that held him. "You are  
not my master, Ellan. You forget your place." 
 
"I don’t forget, Galdor. I am serve your father.  
You have no power over me. This is over. I would  
think one blow from a member of this family  
would be enough to show you the error of your 
ways." 
 
Snickers rose up and he turned on them, his face  
filled with fury. He turned again to Ellan, 
glaring at him with anger. "I will not long  
forget this." 
 
Ellan stood silently, watching as he stormed back  
to the fire. Then he turned and looked at Elrohir.  
Shaking his head, he sighed. "You are such the  
mirror image of your father." 
 
Elrohir smiled. "You are in trouble with the  
loud-mouthed prince." 
 
"I serve his parents. He doesn’t bother me," Ellan  
said, smiling. 
 
"If he does, you have a home in Imladris," Elladan  
said, brushing off his brother’s shirt. 
 
"That is good to know," Ellan said, turning and  
grinning at Haldir. "Nothing like plan number two." 
 
He snickered and they all turned, walking back to  
the fire but the twins. They watched the others  
go and then turned to each other.  
 
"What mischief happened at home while we were  
gone?" Elladan asked, smiling. 
 
Elrohir smiled and shrugged. "I ceased to be  
surprise anymore." 
 
With that, they turned and walked back to the  
campsite to sleep. 
 
************************************************ 
c2002 Jan. 23 ]:> TBC 
************************************************

************************************************ 
Title: Fortunate Son <14/?> 
Author: Arctapus, Helmboy, ]:> 
Codes: LOTR, Many, R and Up, Non-Au 
Post: Appropriate places 
Disclaimer: This story is mine. The world isn't.  
I imply no copyright infringement by using it. 
 
See part one for all other information. Thank you. 
************************************************ 
 
It was quiet in the room, the two lying entwined  
together. Elrond was content, his worries allayed  
a bit as he caressed Legolas' strong arm, flung  
across his chest in relaxation. They had made love,  
frantically seeking the sense of peace that they  
felt when they were together. It was restored, he  
thought. The feelings of completeness were back in  
his heart and he lay on the bed once more at peace. 
 
"You are very skilled in making me feel delighted,"  
Legolas whispered, rubbing his cheek against  
Elrond's chest.  
 
Elrond smiled and chuckled softly. "I have a  
wonderful canvas upon which to paint." 
 
Legolas smiled, content to lay where he was for  
hours on end and then he raised his head, staring  
into his Lord's loving eyes. He looked at Elrond,  
considering his age as he did and shook his head,  
laying it back on its cushion of warm damp muscles. 
 
Elrond stared at him for a moment, perplexed, and  
then took a handful of golden hair, tugging gently  
until he saw blue eyes again. 
 
"What?" he asked, a slight smile on his lips. 
 
Legolas smiled and sighed. "You are more years  
older than me than any of the trees in the yard  
outside but I don't feel it when I'm with you." 
 
Elrond smiled and released his grip, the youngster  
lying back down again. He stroked soft hair, long  
and tangled down Legolas' back, his fingers moving  
almost of their own accord toward it. He felt  
satiated, filled with a sense of joy that he knew  
would be fleeting over the next few months. 
 
"This is nice," Legolas murmured. "I wish it  
wouldn't end." 
 
"All good things end, or so someone says." He was  
quiet a moment. "I wonder who 'they' are." 
 
Legolas chuckled, raising his head. He moved up  
and kissed Elrond, lingering against the soft  
warmth that made him so happy. Elrond gripped him,  
holding him in place as he moved to settle more  
fully on his body. Legolas sat up, settling gently  
on Elrond. He peered down, his eyes filled with 
mirth.  
 
Elrond stared at Legolas, reaching up and sliding  
his fingers down the smooth expanse of his pale 
chest. Legolas sighed and leaned down, kissing  
him softly, his golden hair falling around his  
face. He sat back up, unbraiding his hair, both  
back and sides and he shook his head, a soft  
curtain of silk falling over his eyes. 
 
Elrond smiled and brushed it back, soft blue eyes  
staring at him without embarrassment. "You are  
beautiful." 
 
Legolas smiled. "I think so of you." 
 
He leaned down and captured Elrond's mouth, sighing  
as he felt strong hands move across his back. They  
slid down, kneading his muscles as they moved. He  
sat back up, staring down at his lover and felt as  
if all things were possible at that moment.  
 
"You look good there," Elrond said playfully. "The  
view is much improved from here." 
 
Legolas laughed, a sound that warmed Elrond's heart  
and stared at him, his face filled with happiness.  
"What may I do for you, my Lord?" he asked. "I am  
after all your squire and must attend to you in all  
matters of health and welfare." 
 
Elrond smiled, shaking his head. "I can think of  
many things, some of which you are not ready for." 
 
"Such as?" Legolas asked, his face becoming  
serious with his curiosity. 
 
"There are many ways for us to share our bodies,  
Green Leaf. Some of them take a while to learn.  
Those pleasures taken too soon may cause dismay." 
 
"You would never hurt me," Legolas said, staring  
at him with certainty. "This I know." 
 
"I would never do that," Elrond agreed, sliding  
his hands along Legolas' taut thighs. "But I  
know in the throes of my passion for you that I  
could injure you." 
 
"How so?" Legolas asked, pressing the issue even  
as he shifted on Elrond's body. He watched with  
satisfaction sensual pleasure flash across his  
lover's face. 
 
Elrond sighed and shifted slightly, the need  
rising in him for more of this one. "You have  
had lovers?" He didn't want to know but he did. 
 
"There were some." 
 
"You have been with them?" Elrond prodded, a  
smirk forming on his lips at the coquettish  
look on his lover's face.  
 
"Perhaps," Legolas replied, sliding his hands  
along Elrond's arms.  
 
"Are you going to make me drag it out of you?"  
he asked, twisting his hands and lacing his  
fingers through Legolas'. 
 
The younger man smiled and nodded. "That is  
the past." 
 
"Perhaps," Elrond replied, glad to know no more  
than he did. "But when I show you other things,  
I have to know if you are experienced." 
 
"I have never been taken if that is what you  
seek to know," Legolas said, watching with  
satisfaction the expression on Elrond's face.  
It was pleased and delighted, even as the older  
man tried to contain it. "No one has lain with  
me in that fashion." 
 
Elrond nodded, smiling in spite of himself.  
"Then I wish that honor." 
 
"You shall have it, Melme," Legolas whispered,  
kissing Elrond on the mouth. "Only you." 
 
He lay against Elrond's chest, his hair falling  
over his shoulders, the great Lord's hands  
roaming over his back. Legolas broke the kiss,  
sitting up and sighing, his hands rubbing the  
soft skin of his own chest. His head dropped  
back, his long pale neck exposed and Elrond  
stared at it hungrily. He sat up himself,  
slipping his arms around Legolas as he began  
to kiss and suck on that delicate silk.  
 
Legolas hugged him, holding him close to his  
body as he absorbed the sensations from his  
lover. He felt like he was floating on a  
cloud of pleasure and when Elrond lay back  
he felt bereft. He looked at his lover,  
feeling beneath him the desire that had been  
coaxed from his body. He smiled and shifted,  
watching as Elrond groaned, his fingers  
gripping the sheets of the bed tightly. 
 
Shifting again, he began to move, the silvery  
sensations of sexual pleasure gripping him as  
well. For a moment it was ragged and then he  
found a rhythm, his hands resting on Elrond's  
chest.  
 
The noises he coaxed from the older man were  
incredible and their erotic excitement mingled  
with his own. Legolas gasped, small, soft  
staccato exhales of pleasure as he moved on  
his lover, the powerful swell of release making  
conscious thought impossible. He moved faster,  
pressing harder and when he fell into the abyss  
of his own orgasm, he could hear the strangled  
cries of Elrond some place far away.  
 
He twisted and groaned, falling into Elrond's  
body and strong arms embraced him, holding him  
as the body beneath him rolled over. Elrond lay  
on him, moving even as he shuddered himself and  
when he was finished, they were tangled, sweat  
slicked and hot. 
 
It was silent except for the sound of their  
breathing. Elrond sighed and closed his eyes.  
Soon they would be preoccupied full time with  
the danger of the orcs and moments like this  
might be few and far between. He would have to  
store them in memory, sweet mementos of other  
better times. 
 
Legolas sighed and turned, slipping into Elrond's  
arms as he rolled over, pulling Legolas to his  
chest. They lay together, neither moving until a  
discreet knock on the door broke their magical  
moment. Elrond sighed and moved gently, slipping  
out from under the blanket of his lover, pulling  
on a robe as he walked to the sitting room and  
the door beyond.  
 
It opened and Erestor entered, their voices low as  
they chatted and when they were finished, Erestor  
left, the door closing behind him. Elrond walked  
back, sitting beside Legolas on the bed. He smiled. 
 
"Reality intrudes upon our fantasy," he said, watching  
as Legolas rolled toward him. He leaned down and kissed  
his lips, rising and turning toward his bathing room.  
"Care to join me?" he asked, watching with a smile as  
Legolas rose and joined him. 
 
"I have to," Legolas said, slipping his hand in  
Elrond's. "I am your squire after all." 
 
*** 
 
Elladan and Elrohir rode in, their comrades with them  
and they set their horses into the paddock behind the  
house. Walking in, covered with road grime, they  
traded jibes and jokes with the people of the house.  
Walking toward their father's study, they clomped up  
the stairs, looking around for him. Reaching the top,  
they spotted Legolas and called to him, earning a grin  
and a shout of hello. Elrond stepped out, map in hand  
and smiled. 
 
"You're back at last." 
 
"We are," Elrohir said, pulling off his jacket.  
"Lots of sign but no sightings. They have advance  
parties into our country and the signs lead in all  
directions, from here to the sea and out toward the  
lands of Men." 
 
Elrond frowned, staring at the map. "That indicates 
great numbers. This is not good news." 
 
"So it appears," Elladan said. "We met with parties  
from Mirkwood and Lorien. They hadn't been looking  
but merely endeavored to reach their countries lest  
too much time intervene. I would say that the Prince  
of Mirkwood had an attitude that wanted bruising of  
his nose." 
 
Legolas listened, his face falling into a neutral  
expression and Elrond glanced at him, turning  
toward his sons. 
 
"The Prince of Mirkwood has a brother that doesn't  
need to hear harsh words said of his kin." 
 
Elladan turned to him, shaking his head. "I meant  
no offense." 
 
"None is taken," Legolas said, his voice strained.  
He turned to Elrond. "I will take on my chores now,  
my Lord. If you require me I will come at your call." 
 
He turned and nodded to the twins, moving out of the  
room and onward to other duties. Elrond fixed a stern  
look on his sons, the two looking sheepishly back at  
him. 
 
"You must guard your speech. Legolas doesn't need to  
bear more of a burden from the weight of his family's  
flaws than he already does." 
 
"We don't want to harm him, Father," Elrohir said,  
"but Galdor did try to beat me when they camped with  
us on the trail." 
 
"Why?" Elrond said, turning and walking into the ante  
room of his chambers. They followed and sat on chairs,  
resting their feet on footstools. He sat and put the  
map on his table, staring at it with worry. "Tell me  
what happened." 
 
"I have no idea. He was angry all the while, the  
others filled with good mirth. When I went into the  
bushes to relieve myself before repose, he called me  
and I called him back." 
 
"What did he say?" Elrond asked, mildly amused at his  
son and none surprised. 
 
"He said that he heard all of Rivendell's Princes  
are great whores," Elladan said, grinning wolfishly. 
 
"And your goodly retort?" Elrond asked his son, his  
jaundiced eye cast upon both. 
 
"I tried not to retort," Elrohir replied. 
 
"And your goodly retort?" Elrond persisted. 
 
Elrohir sighed and blurted out. "I asked him if he  
learned that from his mother." 
 
It was silent a moment and then Elrond rose, walking  
quickly into his bedroom and returning with a message  
tube in his hand. He flashed past them, leaving them  
behind, mystified. 
 
"What was that all about?" Elladan asked, watching  
as their father disappeared out the door.  
 
"I don't know. I am learning at long last not to ask,"  
Elrohir said with a sigh. 
 
*** 
 
He walked to the stable, entering and searching for  
his lover. Legolas was working on a horse, braiding  
his mane. The long silken white mane was nearly  
dragging on the ground and he wound ribbons into  
cords, plaiting it with great skill. 
 
Stopping and watching, he indulged himself a moment  
and then moved forward, stopping beside the stall  
door.  
 
"You have many skills," Elrond said, smiling. "I am  
always finding out things about you." 
 
Legolas smiled, turning toward him. He glanced both  
ways and leaned in, kissing Elrond on the lips.  
"What brings you to the stables, my Lord?" 
 
He sighed and smiled, holding out the tube. Legolas  
looked at it, a smile slowly growing on his face.  
Taking it, he opened it and pulled out lovely white  
paper that contained an elegant Elvish hand. He  
looked at it and then smiled at Elrond, his face  
filled with joy. 
 
"It's a letter. From my mother," he said, looking  
at the lines hungrily. He read them, his eyes  
following the beautiful writing until it was over.  
For a moment he stood quietly and then he looked  
at Elrond, his eyes soft with love. 
 
"I don't know how you got this for me but thank  
you." 
 
"Ellan gave it to me to give you. He is your mother's  
champion and good friend," Elrond said.  
 
"My mother is a good person," Legolas said, looking  
at the letter, filled with home news and her comments  
of love for him. "I love her dearly. She is my  
champion." 
 
Elrond nodded, smiling. "She has a lovely son." 
 
He looked up, sighing. "I wish you could know her.  
I wish you could sit and talk to her. You would  
love her too." 
 
"I know I would. She after all is the one you are  
most like, or so a beautiful creature told me  
once." 
 
Legolas smiled. "She is." 
 
Elrond sighed and kissed him. "I must go. There is  
bad news from different places and the orc threat  
must be met." 
 
Legolas nodded and watched him go, the letter  
clutched in his hands. He looked at it and sighed,  
the scent of the paper capturing something of the  
beauty and youth of his mother. He carefully  
returned it to the tube and tucked it into his  
jacket, safe and sound and ready to reread later.  
With a sigh, he turned and began his chores,  
making Elrond's horse beautiful. 
 
*** 
 
They talked for hours, going over the maps and  
when they were finished, Elrohir left to clean  
up. Elladan lingered and Elrond turned to him,  
looking up from his notes on their reconnaissance.  
 
"Father ... I would like to talk to you about  
things that I have no business with but must  
because of the precariousness of things of  
late." 
 
Elrond looked at him, considering his words and  
nodded, the two of them sitting in front of the  
fire. Elladan collected his thoughts and sighed. 
 
"There is no easy way to broach this subject but  
I have to, for good or ill." 
 
"Say what you mean, Elladan," Elrond said, frowning  
at the hesitancy of his son. 
 
"All right," Elladan said, exhaling. "I talked in 
confidence with those of Lorien and Mirkwood who  
I count among my friends." 
 
Elrond nodded.  
 
"And ... they spoke of rumors that were circulating  
among many places about a certain Prince of Imladis  
and his squire." 
 
Elrond felt the blood drain from his face but he  
held a neutral expression as he sat back in his  
chair. "What do they say, these rumor mongers?" 
 
Elladan sat a moment and then he sighed. "They say  
that the Prince of Imladris holds his squire in  
thrall ... that he uses him for immoral purposes,  
thus corrupting his youth and virtue and that he  
subjects him to ..." 
 
"To what?" Elrond asked, intense fury in his  
barely whispered voice. 
 
Elladan swallowed. "I don't believe it. I nearly  
fell into fisticuffs." 
 
"Finish your statement, Elladan." 
 
"They say that this Prince subjects his squire to  
unnatural practices and demands, abusing him in  
his minority." 
 
It was quiet in the room for a moment and then  
Elrond rose and picked up a glass, turning and  
hurling it against the wall. 
 
************************************************ 
c2002 Jan. 24 ]:> TBC 
************************************************

************************************************ 
Title: Fortunate Son <15/?> 
Author: Arctapus, Helmboy, ]:> 
Codes: LOTR, Many, R and Up, Non-Au 
Post: Appropriate places 
Disclaimer: This story is mine. The world isn't.  
I imply no copyright infringement by using it. 
 
See part one for all other information. Thank you. 
************************************************ 
 
“You look pale.” 
 
“I feel pale,” Elladan replied, walking slowly to  
dinner in the great room. He paused by the door,  
nodding to others and sighed. “Don’t bring any  
discord to table. Father is in a bad mood.” 
 
Elrohir peered inside, noting his father’s  
demeanor. “I see it around the edges.” 
 
They entered and made their usual comments, joining  
everyone at the table for dinner. Legolas sat near  
to Elrond, serving his food and wine. He took it,  
a gentle expression on his face whenever their eyes  
met. Elladan sat at his usual place, staring at his  
food. He didn’t feel hungry, nor did it appear, his  
father. 
 
He glanced up and their eyes met, Elrond’s closing  
in misery for the briefest of seconds and then the  
mask came over his face. Elladan marveled at his  
ability to do that, to put into some tightly reined  
corner of his mind all that vexed him no matter how  
great. 
 
He was more like his father than Elrohir but he  
couldn’t contain volcanic forces inside with the  
apparent ease and fortitude that his father had.  
Of course, he was much younger than his father. 
 
They talked quietly, everyone affected by the subtle  
change in their lord. Legolas made a valiant attempt  
to converse with everyone, his perplexity over the  
change in the mood very clear. Obviously, the great  
Lord of Imladris had not said anything about the  
disquieting news to the youngster he so obviously  
adored. 
 
They sat, talking quietly and after a while Glorfindel  
rose, yawning loudly. He covered his mouth, smiling  
slightly. “I must bid you good night. I am tired of  
the day’s toil. I will meet you in the morrow, my Lord  
and finalize the plans that we talked about today if  
that suits you.” 
 
Elrond nodded. “That suits me well, Glorfindel. Thank  
you and good night.” 
 
He nodded and turned, staring pointedly at the two  
youngsters sprawling in their chairs. They jumped up  
and begged off, heading with other stragglers away  
until only Elrond and Legolas sat at the table.  
Legolas watched them all go and when it was silent  
again, he turned and looked at Elrond. 
 
“What is the matter tonight?” he asked, a slight  
tinge of anxiety in his voice. “Is the news so bad  
that it makes all around fall into silence?” 
 
Elrond considered just that, the news dampening his  
heart as much as any he had ever received. He sighed  
and rose, pulling Legolas to his feet. He laced his  
fingers with Legolas’, walking toward the door  
silently. They walked through the house and out the  
door, heading for the path that led down to the  
river. 
 
Legolas followed, clutching Elrond’s hand tightly.  
He felt a darkness growing over him, dimming the  
brightness of the stars as they reached the edge  
of the river. When they were there, Elrond pulled  
him into an embrace which he returned just as  
urgently.  
 
They stood together, silently and desperately  
holding onto each other and then Legolas stepped  
back, staring into the dark gray eyes that he  
loved so dearly. They were filled with pain and  
grief and he stared at them with a growing  
anguish. 
 
“What is wrong?” he asked. 
 
Elrond sighed and shook his head. “It is too much  
to hope that we could mean something to each other  
without penalty. It is said that you and I are  
together, in many places of this world and the  
words they say are not kind.” 
 
Legolas swallowed hard. “Who says such things and  
how do they know?” 
 
Elrond shook his head. “They just do.” 
 
Legolas stood before Elrond silently searching  
his face and felt the world falling away below  
his feet. He stepped closer, embracing him with  
all his strength. He felt strong arms encircle  
him.  
 
“What will this mean? My father ...” 
 
“I’m sure he has heard these things,” Elrond  
whispered. “I’m sure that he will want you  
back.” 
 
“I won’t go,” Legolas said, pulling back. He  
stared at Elrond, his expression filled with  
defiance and sorrow. “I don’t have to go.” 
 
“Of course you would have to, Legolas,” Elrond said.  
“Your mother would die of grief.” 
 
He stood a moment, sorrow passing like clouds over  
his face and then tears spilled, falling silently  
down his face. Elrond felt his heart rend, the  
misery of what was sure to come coalescing before  
him.  
 
“I didn’t mean to love you, Legolas.” 
 
Sad blue eyes looked at him, eyes that brimmed  
with love for him. “Say you didn’t mean that.” 
 
Elrond shook his head. “I don’t.” 
 
Legolas turned and looked at the stars. “Elbereth  
will hear me if I call to her. My mother said so.  
I’ll do it now. I'll call to her for help.” He  
sighed, staring at the ground in misery. 
 
Elrond sighed, staring at the dark water. “I love  
you. I asked you to remember that no matter what  
happens.” 
 
“You had a premonition?” Legolas asked, wiping  
tears from his face with impatient hands. 
 
“Could it turn out any other way? You came to my  
house as a protected boy. I was to give you my  
protection and make sure nothing happened to you.” 
 
“But you loved me instead.” 
 
“From the moment I saw you,” Elrond admitted, his  
voice soft with pain. He turned and stared at the  
stars. “I wonder if she would hear us if we both  
asked her intervention?” 
 
Legolas sighed, staring at Elrond. “I don’t think  
she will. She never has before when I cried to her.  
I think she must have greater cares than one Elf  
with a broken heart.” 
 
Elrond pulled him into his arms, holding Legolas  
tightly. “My life was a desolation before you  
came. I didn’t realize it until you brought the  
light that has been missing for so long. I don’t  
know what I shall do if you have to go.” 
 
“I might not have to. Maybe they ... maybe my  
father ...”  
 
His voice trailed off, the futility of his words  
apparent to even his own anguished mind.  
 
The river flowed past, soft musical accompaniment  
to the two as they stood together. The stars were  
bright and the trees protective but they didn’t  
notice, so complete was their grief.  
 
“What will happen?” Legolas asked, his head resting  
on Elrond’s shoulder. 
 
“I would think he will send an emissary to Lorien  
and ask that the apprenticeship be cancelled by  
Lord Celeborn.” 
 
“Will they?” Legolas asked, looking anxiously into  
Elrond’s face. Tears still fell, slow and silent,  
markers of his misery and it pained Elrond to see  
them. 
 
“I would think so,” Elrond said. “We are at war and 
unity is imperative. And in your case, my duties to  
you are clear. If there is any thought that they  
were broken then our compact is void.” 
 
Legolas closed his eyes in misery. “I didn’t need  
to be coaxed to love you. From the minute I saw you  
I wanted your affection. You were someone who was  
kind to me and I took it to my heart.” 
 
“You are young,” Elrond whispered. “I should have  
been discreet and turned your youthful infatuations  
away.” 
 
“You didn’t,” Legolas countered, unnerved by the  
regret in Elrond’s voice. “Do you wish you hadn’t?  
Do you regret that you wanted me?” 
 
Elrond shook his head. “Not for myself do I have any  
regrets, though this bring disgrace upon my head. It  
is only for you that I fear. You are the one that  
brings chills to my heart, the loss to you of all  
that might come.” 
 
“My name? My reputation? I give it all up for the  
love in my heart. What does it mean to have all of  
that if there is nothing in your heart that is  
worth suffering for?” 
 
“You were not made to suffer,” Elrond countered.  
“You must not suffer because I am a fool.” 
 
“To love me is to be a fool?” Legolas replied, the  
hurt on his face clear to see. 
 
“No,” Elrond replied, sighing with sorrow. “I was  
a fool to place you in danger.” 
 
Legolas embraced Elrond, closing his eyes in misery.  
“Hold me.” 
 
Elrond held him, bound tightly and as he did, he  
considered what must surely be coming. A message  
of huge indignation to Lorien from Thranduil would  
be first and then a meeting in the great wood with  
the Lady and Lord. That would be contentious and  
they would expect for Legolas to be there. After  
that acrimony, they would have to part and if they  
did he wondered how he would live. 
 
The moon was slim, a sliver of its former self and  
the light that it cast was unearthly in its beauty.  
Standing nearby, silent and still, Elladan and  
Glorfindel watched, their musing along the walkway  
cut short by the appearance of the two.  
 
Glorfindel felt the sorrow of a thousand other  
moments fill his heart and he knew that Elrond  
was devastated. The youngster was too, by the  
looks of his demeanor and he wondered what could  
be done to salvage the situation. Nothing,  
probably, he thought as he turned, and with  
Elladan by his side, soundlessly retreated from  
the sad sight.  
 
They were gone in seconds and when they were, the  
only witnesses to their pain were the stars in  
the sky above. 
 
*** 
 
For the next week they worked side-by-side, Legolas  
assisting as Imladris prepared to wage war on the  
orcs that were now burning and killing along the  
leading edge of Lorien. They were not on offensive  
as yet. These were testing parties, raiders sent  
out to test the strength of the border guards. 
 
At night they wrapped themselves in passion, taking  
and giving love to the other with an almost  
desperate intensity. There were almost no words, so  
little were they needed, a mental and visual  
shorthand reaching the other completely and the  
days passed in tension that was relieved in the  
night. 
 
When he rode up, Elrond was standing in the courtyard,  
talking to a visitor from the Havens. He turned and  
noted the livery on the horse from the Lorien Woods  
and knew that a message from Celeborn had arrived.  
He bid the visitor adieu and turned, walking to where  
Haldir dismounted, greeting him formally.  
 
Haldir stood and delivered his greetings from the  
Lord and Lady of the Wood. Then he handed his message  
to Elrond, begging off a stay over, so greatly was he  
needed at home. Elrond nodded and watched as they  
rode out, the message in his hand uncommonly heavy.  
 
He turned and walked inside, moving to his study and  
when he entered, he put it on the table, unable to  
bring himself to open it. Legolas had seen him, 
watching as the Lorien Captain of Lord Celeborn’s  
Guard delivered a message capable of ending his  
happiness. 
 
He followed Elrond, pausing at the study door as he  
watched him put the message tube on the table. He  
just stood and stared at it, not moving to open it  
and so Legolas walked inside, moving to stand next  
to him. 
 
They both stared at it, at the silent signal of the  
doom of their happiness and then Legolas reached  
over to pick it up. Elrond stayed his hand, bringing  
it to his lips for a kiss. Legolas stared at him, at  
the terrible sorrow in his eyes and felt tears once  
more.  
 
“You have to open it,” he whispered, laying his head  
on Elrond’s shoulder. He stood beside Elrond, his  
hands holding Elrond’s arm and he felt the sigh that  
rose up from the middle of his body. “You have to.” 
 
“I’m afraid to,” Elrond said, the admission  
uncharacteristic.  
 
Legolas looked at him, at the pale expression on his  
face. “If you crumble, my Lord, how will I last?” 
 
Elrond turned to him, staring at him with a terrible  
intensity. “You’ve never said my name. It’s never  
crossed your beautiful lips.” 
 
Legolas stared at him, at the sorrow in his eyes and  
wished himself dead. The chasm that would be placed  
between them would be vast and his hopes of crossing  
it would be slim. “I don’t know how,” he whispered,  
his voice equally soft. 
 
Elrond nodded, drawing a ragged breath and turned,  
picking up the tube. He opened it and withdrew a  
fine parchment, reading the script that he knew was  
his father-in-law’s.  
 
“We have to go to Lorien in three days. There will  
be a council there in which I may answer charges  
against me. Your father will be there and so will  
your brothers.” 
 
“I will go with you.”  
 
Elrond turned to him, putting the paper on the  
table. “They ask that you come but it is not  
required. I wish you here, out of harms way.  
There will be terrible things said.” 
 
“I will refute them. I will stand by you,” Legolas  
countered. 
 
“At what cost? What will you hear that will cause  
grief in your heart? What would it mean if your  
mother was there?” 
 
“She would stand by me,” Legolas replied, his  
defiance firm. 
 
Elrond smiled slightly, his hand caressing Legolas’  
cheek. “You are the son of your mother. You mustn’t  
hurt her.” 
 
“My mother would seek my happiness. She would see  
to it that my wishes were heard.” 
 
“What are your wishes, Legolas?” Elrond whispered. 
 
“To never leave you, my Lord,” Legolas said,  
embracing Elrond even as he was embraced.  
 
They stood together, holding each other and the next  
morning when Elrond rode out with his sons,  
Glorfindel and a guard of men, Legolas stood on by  
the gate, watching them go until they disappeared  
from sight.  
 
He would stand there for a long time and then he  
would turn and go inside, waiting through the  
endless days for Elrond’s return and the news of  
his fate. 
 
It would be an agonizing, lonely wait.  
 
************************************************ 
c2002 Jan. 24 ]:> TBC 
************************************************

************************************************ 
Title: Fortunate Son <16/?> 
Author: Arctapus/Helmboy, ]:> 
Codes: LOTR, Many, R and Up, Non-Au 
Post: Appropriate places 
Disclaimer: This story is mine. The world isn't.  
I imply no copyright infringement by using it. 
 
See part one for all other information. Thank you. 
************************************************ 
 
By the time they reached the Lorien Wood, he had  
collected the rage and fear that had pulsed  
through him from the moment that Elladan had  
broached the subject. He was gathered together,  
mentally considering his arguments so that they  
would be firm and rational when he voiced them. 
 
He had donned his cloak of royal purple, his  
clothes were impeccable, his boots inlaid with  
Mithral. He was a king of his people, riding  
with glittering entourage toward a battle so  
personal he could barely put words to it.  
Glorfindel rode next to him, his hair nearly  
glinting as he wore the proofs of his own lordly  
background.  
 
They were a brilliant sight, the banner of  
Imladris carried by a herald and they met the  
greeting party of the Lord and Lady near the  
winding road that led to the inner most part  
of the great forest.  
 
Haldir was there, called back by Galadriel  
herself to meet Elrond when he came. They were  
contemporaries, people with a common outlook  
and as they exchanged words of greeting, Elrond  
took it for what it was, a token of support  
from the Queen.  
 
Feeling moderately better, he followed the guard  
toward the deep dark woods and when they arrived  
at the home of the two, they dismounted and  
walked up the long and turning staircases to the  
door of their home.  
 
Elrond considered how many times he had come here  
in good and bad and sighed. He knew this wouldn’t  
be good but how bad it would be was beyond even  
him to calculate.  
 
Cirdan hailed him and he paused, waiting as the  
Lord of the Havens made his way toward him. He  
stared at him, surprised by his presence and  
gripped his arm in the warrior’s clasp.  
 
“What brings you to Lorien?” he asked, genuinely  
pleased to see him. 
 
“Many tidings, my friend, but also the plight  
which faces you. I am here to observe and to help  
render a conclusion that keeps our alliances and  
yet breaks as few hearts as possible.” 
 
Elrond winced internally, his private affairs more  
current among the world than his worst fears  
conjured. He sighed. “I am pleased for your company  
and your wise council.” 
 
Cirdan pulled him to one side. “Elrond, I have known  
you more than most over a longer time. I have watched  
you do right even when it was painful. Now you have  
found pleasure in the company of a youngster whose  
father is difficult at best most of the time. I am  
sorry for your woes but you have my support. I am  
your friend and comrade and most pleased that you  
have unfettered your heart to someone, even if it is  
in this most ... shall we say, unconventional  
fashion.” 
 
Embarrassment warred with gratitude and he nodded,  
shifting his feet in his discomfort. Cirdan smiled,  
chuckling slightly. 
 
“Your discomfort only matches mine in having one’s  
private affairs become so public. Obviously the  
younger ones among us are of lesser mind on such  
matters.” 
 
Elrond nodded and turned, noting the presence of  
his mother-in-law. She walked down and came to  
them, the two bowing slightly toward her. 
 
“Elrond, I am gladdened by your presence. Cirdan  
has been among us these many days, working on the  
common plan for our security. I am glad he is  
there for the troubles that face you as well.” 
 
He nodded, silenced by his mortification and she  
took his arm and Cirdan’s, turning them toward  
the house among the trees. They walked with her,  
Glorfindel joining them and into the lovely  
building they went.  
 
Celeborn was waiting, watching as they came near.  
He smiled, nodding at them and gestured them to  
come further inside, withdrawing to a sitting  
room nearby. They sat down and waited, Celeborn  
gathering his thoughts together. He turned and  
looked at all of them. 
 
“It was not so long ago that we met to determine  
a way to bury old wounds and build new allegiances.  
It appears that our efforts have only complicated  
things. We hoped that the sorrows of the past  
would be laid aside in favor of new thoughts and  
manners.” 
 
Elrond stared at the floor, his anguish building  
even as he was surrounded by people who loved him.  
The picture of Legolas’ grief, the sadness on his  
face, it came back to him. The sorrow of the world  
on the face of a person is terrible he thought but  
the sorrow on the face of an Elf is beyond  
measuring. 
 
“Elrond ...” 
 
He looked up, his dark eyes finding Celeborn’s.  
Their misery matched and then it was masked,  
hidden from sight by those less aware of what  
to look for. 
 
“Elrond, your heart has betrayed your judgment.  
I will not fault that. Who but my Lady and I  
know what sorrow and loneliness you have suffered  
at the passing of our good daughter? You were a  
good husband to her and gave us grandchildren.  
For that and much, much more, you will always  
have our love and devotion.  
 
“What we must do now is hard to bear. A father of  
a child in their minority has rights and they must  
be heeded. It is difficult to contemplate the  
impact of this transgression on the morale of our  
people at this stressed time. At best in the past,  
allegiances were fluid and based on the lower  
instincts of some who participated. It caused  
unnecessary grief and hardship among our people  
and there were deaths that could have been avoided  
had conflict not been so focused.” 
 
Elrond leaned back, the desolation of his life  
forming before his eyes. Waves of despair filled  
him and he didn’t hide it on his face, closing  
his eyes against the inevitability of the future. 
 
Galadriel watched him, her own heart filled with  
pain. She loved him, this unique one among them  
and she felt his wounding as deeply as if it  
were her. She sat and watched, knowing their  
options were few. The King of Mirkwood, his two  
sons and entourage were nearby, waiting with  
little forbearance the meeting of later evening. 
 
Celeborn sighed and moved closer, his own sorrow  
clear. “It is a heavy task to bear a crown. Few  
among us know that more than you. It means that  
your life is not your own and your choices are  
always balanced on the edge of a blade. The son  
of Thranduil must go home to his family and you  
must make some amends for this matter. If,” he  
paused, already knowing the answer, “that which  
is said is true.” 
 
Elrond didn’t answer. He sat staring into middle  
space, into the darkness that formed before him  
and threatened his happiness so completely. He  
rose with effort and bowed slightly. “I am  
fatigued from my travels and wish to rest, if  
that is pleasing to my Lord.” 
 
Celeborn nodded, gesturing toward the room that  
Elrond always occupied on his visits. He bowed  
to Cirdan and Galadriel, moving past them and  
out of view, leaving a heavy and silent wake  
behind him. 
 
Glorfindel rose and sighed, aggravation rising  
through him like a tide. “In all my dealings  
these past many years, I have not seen happiness  
be his lot until the arrival of this young one.  
It is not a planned thing, what has happened.  
Surely there must be some way to mend the breach,  
to make an allegiance based on real substance  
with Mirkwood.” 
 
“We are in discussion,” Galadriel replied, sighing  
softly. “My Lord Celeborn and I have talked with  
the King over the space of two days. He is most  
reluctant to relinquish his anger and the idea of  
relinquishing a son to the Lord of the Valley is  
beyond his scope at the moment.” 
 
“There is no hope then,” Glorfindel asked. 
 
“There is always hope,” Celeborn replied stubbornly.  
“We are all alive and we are all intelligent people.  
We are treading old ground, the past rising to smite  
down our future. We *must* make peace with the dead.” 
 
Cirdan sighed. “Elrond is as a brother to me. I will  
not fault his heart even as I worry about the  
consequences of the reaction of Thranduil. He is an  
impetuous and unpredictable man, that one, the son  
of his father. However, the foe we face will not  
distinguish between us and we have to work together  
in spite of our feelings.” 
 
“But how many will die needlessly because of ill  
feelings?” Glorfindel asked, pacing with  
aggravation.  
 
“That is the question no one can answer but  
Thranduil,” Galadriel said quietly. 
 
No one had an answer to that. 
 
*** 
 
He sat on the bed, staring at the toes of his  
boots. He was chilled with grieving, the frost  
accumulating in his heart moving slowly and  
inexorably outward. There was little legal or  
moral high ground for him and he struggled to  
find the words that would make them see that  
this had transpired almost against both of  
their wills. Then he remembered a stricken  
expression and the strangled words spoken:  
“Say you didn’t mean that.”  
 
He rose and paced, his anguish forming in tears  
unshed. He was far away from the core of his  
soul, the youngster that had brought him to his  
knees when nothing else could. All the long  
years, the losses and wins, the end of his  
marriage and the burdens of his duties, they  
had not felled him. He had borne them all.  
 
But now ... 
 
Now he was in thrall to the blue eyes and golden  
hair of a youngster from another land. He was in  
thrall to the sweet soul and kind ways of a boy  
who was the grandson of a man who hated him, a  
man who died rather than listen to reason. 
 
It should never have happened, this alliance  
between them. It shouldn’t have been possible,  
this bonding of spirit. But it had happened and  
would now be sundered, severed like a cord  
around a package.  
 
He sat again, gripping the edge of the bed and  
struggled to formulate some argument, some  
reasoned string of words that could turn laws  
and custom on their head. He couldn’t, in the  
end and when the call came to meet, he rose and  
drew his great dignity together, walking out to  
meet the new foe, one in a long and unending  
line shading back into the mists of time. 
 
*** 
 
Thranduil stood in the same spot he did when his  
son was sent from him. He stared at Elrond, the  
two meeting and holding level gazes. Glorfindel  
stood beside Elrond, Cirdan moving to a place of  
honor beside Galadriel and the sons of Thranduil  
stood with their father. Their mother was nowhere  
to be seen. 
 
Celeborn stared at them and then moved forward,  
gesturing for them to sit. Thranduil moved  
slowly, sitting first and Elrond turned, relaxing  
onto his chair with a natural nonchalance that  
almost made Cirdan smile. Glorfindel sat beside  
him and the sons of Thranduil stood. 
 
It was deathly silent. 
 
Celeborn sighed and looked at both. “We are much  
dismayed by the level of discord that exists  
between our people, among the leadership and  
families that have responsibility. It has gone  
on too long, this lack of amity and we would  
like to mediate a settlement this day.” 
 
“What settlement?” Thranduil interjected. “My son  
has suffered abuse at the hand of his keeper and  
you ask me for indulgences?” 
 
“I ask you to be a king,” Celeborn said, ignoring  
the tension rising in Thranduil’s sons. “You have  
a kingdom to consider in your dealings today. We  
are menaced at all places by the shadow of the  
southern lands and we have to work together to  
vanquish it. To dispute now, to make a chasm in  
the unity of our purpose invites death and  
failure in our goals.” 
 
“My son was sent at your request to squire in the  
House of Elrond. He was sent there with assurances,  
guarantees of his safety and now I find that there  
are rumors among people that this is not so. There  
are rumors that he has been subjected against his  
will to unnatural and hellish practices that  
compromise his person.” 
 
Rage flashed through Elrond and he rose, turning  
with malevolent visage toward the seated figure.  
His sons turned toward Elrond, their hands  
resting on the grip of their swords, even as  
Glorfindel did likewise. 
 
“Your son is precious to me. I will not discount 
that I love him. That would put shame on the  
esteem with which I hold him. He is as precious  
to me as my own daughter. Nothing that has  
transpired has been against his will, no matter  
how much you might want to think so.” 
 
Thranduil rose and stepped closer, his face dark  
with anger. “You have made my son a harlot, taking  
him to your bed and abandoning your manliness in  
your unnatural desires. You have made him dirty in  
the eyes of his family and you cannot concoct words  
in a fashion that will change this reality.” 
 
“Your son,” Elrond said, barely able to articulate  
so completely did he seethe with rage, “is as the  
snow, perfect and unblemished. He is the lonely  
ignored one among you, seeking a home some place  
where someone will see him for what he is ... a  
rare and beautiful treasure. But then, Thranduil,”  
Elrond seethed, stepping closer to his foe, “he  
cannot be worn on a chain or worked into a crown,  
can he? His worth is beyond you to measure.” 
 
Thranduil struck, his fist connecting with Elrond’s  
chin and he staggered, righting himself. Elrond  
swung himself, moving forward and the blow hit  
Thranduil on the side of the face. Before more  
landed, hands pulled them back and they stood facing  
each other with an intensity of anger not seen in  
Lorien in a long time. 
 
“I want my son!” Thranduil raged, glaring at Celeborn  
as he shrugged off his sons. “I want him now. I will  
not tolerate for one more day this outrage against my  
honor and that of my House. My son comes to me!” 
 
Celeborn stared at him, his own emotions carefully concealed. 
“You will retire to your chambers. I will  
render my decision shortly.” 
 
Thranduil stared at him, then seethed at Elrond,  
turning and walking away into the corridor beyond.  
His sons followed slower, staring at Elrond with  
unconcealed hatred. When they were gone, Cirdan  
and Glorfindel released Elrond. 
 
Celeborn expelled a deep breath, glancing at his  
anguished Lady. He shook his head, moving closer  
to his son-in-law. He stared at him with the  
deepest sorrow he could feel. 
 
“You know my decision.” 
 
Elrond stared at him, unshed tears in his eyes.  
 
“Then go you to Imladris. When I send my guard,  
they will take him to his father.” 
 
Elrond stared at Celeborn and then without a word,  
turned and hurried out, rushing into the night for  
his horse. Glorfindel and the guard barely managed  
to follow and then they disappeared into the night. 
 
Celeborn stood on the terrace, his arm around his  
wife. They watched as the party vanished, their  
grief intense. Then without a word, they walked  
inside to render a verdict to Thranduil. 
 
Cirdan watched them go, his heart heavy. It was  
a starry night above but he didn’t see them, so  
completely at odds with peace did he feel at  
this time. 
 
*** 
 
He rode into the night, his entourage around him.  
The wind kicked up but he didn’t care, the smell  
of rain unnoticed. He only wanted to get home and  
tell Legolas himself. He wanted to be there when  
his world crashed down and tell him of his regret  
and love in privacy. 
 
As he rode onward, the wind dried his tears which  
slid silently down his cheeks. He had not cried  
since his wife went west, that sorrow long ago and  
seemingly in another lifetime. This one was here,  
mocking him as he flew and he knew he would never  
be happy again. 
 
************************************************ 
c2002 Jan. 24 ]:> TBC 
************************************************

************************************************ 
Title: Fortunate Son <17/?> 
Author: Arctapus, Helmboy, ]:> 
Codes: LOTR, Many, R and Up, Non-Au 
Post: Appropriate places 
Disclaimer: This story is mine. The world isn't.  
I imply no copyright infringement by using it. 
 
See part one for all other information. Thank you. 
************************************************ 
 
He stood on the terrace, Elrond’s chambers behind  
him aglow with the light of many candles. He had  
not slept there for the first night but after that  
his anxiety and loneliness had compelled him to go,  
curling up in the bed where they slept together  
when he was home. A robe of his Lord adorned him,  
the silken fabric caressing his naked skin. 
 
The house was empty and his chores seemed pointless,  
Erestor allowing him his sorrow. He wandered about  
the house, seldom pausing for long and he ate very  
little, so great was his worry about the outcome  
in Lorien that would affect his life forever.  
 
He knew they had little chance, the rules of his  
apprenticeship explicit in the conduct they must  
observe. His father had drilled it into him before  
he left and he knew in his heart that it was from  
a form of love for him, how ever flawed. 
 
He would never have the kind of unconditional love  
he sought from his father. He couldn’t give it. It  
mystified Legolas a long time until he considered  
his father as a whole. Good, strong and decent, he  
was also driven, flawed and ambitious. His brothers 
bore the yoke better than he did, their spirits  
toughening as they stove to meet the expectations  
of a demanding father. 
 
Legolas had polished the veneer of such a spirit,  
giving to his father and brothers what they thought  
he was, what they wanted from him. But it wasn’t  
him. His mother was the only one who had known what  
sort of person he was, what he dreamed of and what  
he hoped to be. His mother loved him unconditionally  
and didn’t scoff at his questions and his stated  
wishes and goals. 
 
When he came to Rivendell, he had put on the quiet  
shield that had stood him through the many pitfalls  
of his growing up and only when Elrond showed him  
that a man could be kind and gentle, giving him  
time and attention, only then did cracks appear in  
its glossy and self-absorbed surface. 
 
He sighed and considered a conversation he had  
Elladan the night before. They had stood by the  
pool at the river side, skipping rocks together as  
Elladan awkwardly tried to comfort him. 
 
"Did you love me when you pursued me or was it  
something more base?" he had asked, watching the  
truth on Elladan’s face.  
 
He shrugged, his face flushing red. "I thought of  
you with lust and desire. I didn’t care to find  
out more at the time." 
 
Legolas nodded, sighing. "That is something I have  
experienced before." 
 
"My father is different," Elladan ventured.  
 
"Your father is the first person besides my mother  
who looks at me and sees *me* standing there. I’m  
not some construct of his desires. I’m me, Legolas." 
 
"My father is a different man than most," Elladan  
admitted, staring at Legolas’ profile as he watched  
the river flow. 
 
"Your father is the only person in this great wide  
world that I love more than my mother. I would  
allow the river to swallow me whole before I would  
allow hurt to befall him." 
 
"My father is a tough man," Elladan replied, sighing.  
"But I feel that if this goes ill, it would elude his  
intellect and his spirit about how to live with it.  
He has not loved anyone since our mother’s passing  
so many years ago." 
 
Legolas turned to him, a sad expression on his face.  
"I am sorry for your loss." 
 
"I am too," Elladan replied. "I miss her more than  
you can know. My father is a good parent, wise and  
kind, but there is no one like a mother to love you." 
 
He nodded, staring at the stars above. "My mother is  
my champion," he repeated. 
 
"You have many. My father is doing battle for you  
and the Lord and Lady of the Wood will do what they  
can. If it can be made right for you, it will be." 
 
"And if it isn’t?" Legolas asked softly. 
 
"Then I fear for you both, my regret is too great  
for me to say more," Elladan said, moving to sit  
on a stone bench. He stared at Legolas, at the air  
of defeat and sorrow about him and hated the world  
for its indifference. 
 
***  
 
They pressed on, Elrond not stopping for more than  
a moment or two, so great was his desire to return  
home. They passed the outlands of their country  
with the rising of the sun and behind them lay days  
of hard travel.  
 
They rode along the great road that lead to the  
divide where one could go to three other countries,  
hurrying tired horses along. Elrond rode with a  
fixed purpose, aiming to arrive at home in the  
early evening.  
 
It had rained and they continued, their slickers  
keeping them reasonably dry. They passed a number  
of people on their way here and there and it was a  
sight to see, this party riding west. 
 
In his mind he had gone over all the arguments,  
the states of mind, the reasoned and impassioned  
pleas and even though his rational mind felt  
that there was no hope, his emotions begged  
otherwise.  
 
The closer to home he came the less the grip of  
fear seemed to hold him and as he crested the  
mountain that would lead them down into the winding  
trail toward home, the more calm he grew.  
 
Far down the valley, nestled against a mountainside,  
the house he had called home for generations of men  
awaited him. Some place in that house, waiting for  
his return, the only one who had reached him in  
centuries was watching for him. This he knew. What  
he would tell him when he arrived, he didn’t know.  
That part of his sorrow he hadn’t broached yet and  
as they moved single-file on the long and narrow  
trail, he considered what he would say to his  
lover. 
 
*** 
 
It was getting dark when they rode into the courtyard,  
the horses tired and the men silent. He stood on the  
terrace of Elrond’s chamber, watching with fearful  
eyes as they climbed down from their steeds.  
 
Elrond had searched for him, his eyes moving from  
window to balcony to terrace and when he saw him,  
leaning on the railing, staring back with intensity,  
he felt pain rend his heart. 
 
Handing his reins to a member of his party, he turned  
and hurried inside, leaving Glorfindel and his sons  
behind. Nodding to Erestor, he turned and climbed the  
stairs two by two, disappearing as Glorfindel and the  
others walked inside. Erestor looked at Glorfindel, a  
stricken expression darkening his face as the older  
Elf shook his head sadly.  
 
Erestor sighed and turned, staring at the twins as he  
considered what it would mean for their household.  
Elrond had barely acknowledged him, hurrying on to  
Legolas beyond and as they stood together, it seemed  
dimmer and colder all around them. 
 
"I have food for you," he said, squeezing Glorfindel’s  
arm. "Come. Eat." 
 
Reluctantly and without enthusiasm, they followed him  
into the dining room beyond.  
 
***  
 
He hurried down the corridor, reaching his rooms and  
threw open the door, entering. He looked around,  
spotting him on the terrace and rushed to him,  
embracing Legolas with in his agonized desperation.  
Legolas embraced him back, hugging him as tightly  
as he could. They stood together, holding each other  
as the sorrow of their situation overwhelmed them.  
 
"I failed," Elrond whispered, kissing Legolas’ neck  
over and over. "I failed." 
 
Tears brimmed and spilled over as he held the  
youngster, wishing with all his heart they were  
anywhere but here. Legolas felt tears fall and  
sighed, his fingers entwined in Elrond’s long  
dark hair.  
 
"What becomes of me?" Legolas asked, staring into  
Elrond’s anguished eyes. "What happens now?" 
 
"Celeborn will send a company to take you home,"  
Elrond whispered, his agony audible.  
 
"I don’t want to go," Legolas said, sighing with  
misery. "What about what *I* feel?" 
 
"You haven’t the age to have the right to choose.  
This whole business ... I ... it’s my fault,  
Legolas. I should have known better." 
 
"What should you have known?" Legolas asked, holding  
Elrond’s face in his hands. He wiped away some of  
the tears, ignoring his own and kissed Elrond softly.  
"How could you know that this would come to pass?  
That I would love you like I do?" 
 
Elrond closed his eyes, caving into his misery and  
Legolas held him. All of the long years of emptiness  
rushed back into his mind and he felt that there  
was no hope left in the world.  
 
Legolas turned and they walked to the bed, sitting  
side-by-side. He saw exhaustion, sorrow and  
recrimination and turned, kneeling before his Lord.  
With tender care, he removed Elrond’s boots, his  
socks and his cloak. Putting them to one side, he  
pushed the older man back, rising and walking to  
his bathing room. He turned the tap, the flow of  
water falling from the cistern beyond. Turning,  
he poured water from a container that he had  
heated when he had heard they were coming. 
 
He mingled it, the temperature none too hot and  
returned to where Elrond was sitting dejectedly  
on the bed. He sat beside his lover, stroking  
his hair, waiting for him to recover. He drew a  
ragged sigh, turning anguished eyes on Legolas,  
regret written large on his face. 
 
"Let us not think about it now," Legolas said  
gently. "Let me take care of you." 
 
He let the youngster remove his shirt and his  
trousers, all of his clothes falling into a pile  
in the corner. He rose and walked wearily,  
Legolas’ arm around him and into the bathtub he  
went.  
 
Legolas knelt, removing the plaits from Elrond’s  
hair and then he stood and removed his own  
clothing. Gently and carefully, he slipped in  
behind Elrond, wrapping him in his arms as he  
settled. 
 
They were quiet together, holding each other as  
the steam rose around them. Legolas sighed and  
rested his head on Elrond’s shoulder, closing  
his eyes against the darkness that surrounded  
them. 
 
"I am sorry," Elrond said, rubbing his cheek  
against Legolas’ hair.  
 
"You were my champion,  
I know," Legolas whispered, kissing Elrond on  
the shoulder.  
 
"I can’t let you go," Elrond said, his voice  
emotional. He sighed and shook his head. "I don’t 
know how to let you go." 
 
"I can’t stay. My father will come for me and people  
will get hurt. *You* will get hurt." 
 
"He would only kill a corpse," Elrond said. "If you  
leave, I won’t know how to live now." 
 
"Nor I," Legolas replied softly. 
 
*** 
 
For hours he paced, uneasiness suffusing him. In the  
moonlight he usually could sort out his problems,  
working solutions to the myriad of cares that a  
kingdom like Lothlorien required. Celeborn was  
stymied by this one, the complexity of the heart  
making solution impossible. 
 
He was aware of the infatuation between Elrond and  
his charge early on, a casual comment by Haldir  
striking a cord in his mind. Elrond was lonely, the  
Prince was beautiful, lightning struck. But it was  
a zero-sum game, he reasoned, as playing with fire  
always was and in the flash of a moment’s  
recognition, Elrond had done something he had never  
done before. He had stepped outside of the rules.  
 
Thranduil had ridden out, mollified that the Lord of  
the Lorien Wood would insure that his son would be  
returned. Legolas had a way to go before he was shut  
of his father’s control and even so, cutting oneself  
off from one’s family was a terrible thing for an  
Elf to endure, even one from as unsettled a family  
as Legolas’. 
 
He gave himself a day to consider what to do and  
then decided that a break now was no more easy  
than one a week later. He had dispatched Haldir  
and a troop of his guard to fetch the Prince from  
Elrond and escort him to the border lands of  
Mirkwood where he would be given back to his  
father. 
 
It was deeply distasteful, being a party to this  
kind of sorrow but he had a responsibility to each  
side to be fair, even if his heart called upon him  
to choose. 
 
If he had his way, he would choose Elrond. But that  
was not a luxury for a king, to choose whatever he  
willed. The way of a king was long and lonely and  
few new it better than him. Indeed, few knew it  
better than Elrond of Rivendell. That was true  
indeed, but it was cold comfort to Celeborn as he  
paced on along the river by his home.  
 
Nearby, watching, Galadriel looked at the stars that  
shown down upon her husband. They were cold comfort  
to them both this night, the last one that Elrond  
would have with his lover. 
 
*** 
 
He turned and walked to the door, pausing to look  
back. Dressed in traveling clothes, Legolas stared  
at the figure lying exhausted in sleep on the bed.  
He looked at the sleep-smoothed face, the quiet  
form lying on his side of the bed and sighed, a  
spasm of pain filling his heart. He turned and  
opened the door, stepping out, his bow and quiver  
in his hand.  
 
It was quiet in the house and by the time he reached  
the stables, he was clear of any prying eyes. He  
entered and found a horse, saddling it with his own  
saddle. Leading it out, he donned his bow and quiver,  
mounting up without a sound. Pausing, he looked up  
at the window where Elrond slept alone.  
 
He sat and considered the irony of his life that he  
should seek love for all his days and having found  
it, be denied. He sighed raggedly and gathered the  
reins, glancing up at the window one more time. 
 
"Good-bye, Elrond," he whispered. Silently, with  
great care, he turned his horse and rode through  
the gate, heading for the trail that would lead  
out of the valley and away from the most  
comforting and loving place he had ever known.  
 
************************************************ 
c2002 Jan. 25]:> TBC 
************************************************

************************************************ 
Title: Fortunate Son <18/?> 
Author: Arctapus, Helmboy, ]:> 
Codes: LOTR, Many, R and Up, Non-Au 
Post: Appropriate places 
Disclaimer: This story is mine. The world isn't.  
I imply no copyright infringement by using it. 
 
See part one for all other information. Thank you. 
 
NOTE: The Encyclopedia of Arda tells that orcs 
mostly preferred the darkness because light was  
too bright but could hunt in light. The Uruk Hai 
of the Third Age were known for five hundred  
years. Their name, Great Orc or in their own  
language, Uruk Hai, was mentioned in Two Towers. 
They were around five hundred years before Saruman  
conducted his breeding program for FOTR. 
************************************************ 
 
He awoke with a jolt, immediately feeling around  
the bed for the other who had lay down with him  
the night before. He was too tired to love him,  
the one who haunted his dreams and so they lay  
in each others arms, Legolas’ heart beating softly  
beneath his ear.  
 
Now he was alone and he sat up, looking around.  
For a moment he listened and then he felt it, a  
shard of such cold desperation pierce his heart  
that he winced, stilling him as he struggled to  
clear his thoughts. 
 
He jumped from the bed and reached for his robe,  
a note falling to the ground as he pulled it on.  
He paused and then reached down, picking it up. 
For a moment he just stared and then he opened  
it, reading the words written in a clear and  
firm hand. 
 
Melme, 
 
I cannot stay and cause you more grief. My father  
will come and there will be violence. I don’t wish  
trouble in your home. Your kindnesses to me are  
too numerous to count. I am leaving now and I don’t  
wish you to follow. I love you. I will always love  
you, Elrond. 
 
L 
 
He stared at it, his eyes blurring with tears and  
then he turned, running out into the hallway. Down  
the corridor he raced, down the stairs and into  
the dining room where his sons sat with Glorfindel, 
Erestor and a couple of the local boys who were  
friends of the family. He stood before them, robed  
and frantic, his hair hanging blown and tousled  
around his face. 
 
"He’s gone." 
 
Elladan rose and moved toward the door, pausing for  
a moment. "Did he say where?" 
 
Elrond shook his head. "No. There are orcs on the  
main road. We saw their signs. They didn’t attack  
us because we were too many but one rider alone  
..." 
 
They all rose and filed past him, pausing to gather  
weapons before walking to the door and the stables  
beyond. Before they were out the door, Elrond was 
up the stairs, pulling on clothes and gathering his  
weapons. Turning, he ran down the corridor, shrugging  
on his weapons and by the time he was outside, his  
horse was waiting.  
 
They mounted up, Elladan shouting for more soldiers  
and when they set out, there were more riding in  
the other direction, each group determined to find  
Legolas before trouble befell him. 
 
***  
 
He rode along the main highway that linked the  
sanctuary of Imladris with the arteries that led  
in all directions. There were roads heading toward  
the domain of men and others going to Eldar  
kingdoms scattered here and there.  
 
Around the howl of pain in his head he considered  
what he could do. The likelihood of finding sanctuary  
in Elf lands was small, most of the great lords would  
honor his father’s claim to him. There were other  
places to go, other people who would have less reason  
to follow the wishes of his father but they were all  
of another race than him. He didn’t know what it  
would mean to live among men, their ways totally  
alien to his understanding, but he had little choice  
and so as he came to the crossroad that led in two  
directions, he chose to head for Gondor.  
 
As he did, he felt a darkness touch him, a strange  
sensation of danger and so he spurred his horse,  
hurrying along the road, determined to reach  
habitation before it got dark again. 
 
*** 
 
It was mid-afternoon when they reached the crossroads,  
Elrond pondering which way Legolas would go. He  
considered there was refuge in other Elvish kingdoms  
but there was also obligation by their lords to return  
him to his father. The road split in two, one artery  
leading in the general direction of men and Elrond  
considered Legolas’ dreams to adventure in places  
strange to his experience. 
 
Turning to his sons and four soldiers, he directed  
them to take the left fork while he, Glorfindel and  
Erestor took the right. He watched as they rode  
away, turning and hurrying down the road before  
him, listening with his ears and his heart for a  
lone rider ahead. He rode as fast as he could,  
heading toward the hills beyond the the growing  
certainty that things were very, very wrong. 
 
*** 
 
They fell upon him, his horse tiring and when they  
rounded a bend, his horse stumbled. Shadows were  
falling as the sun slipped farther into the horizon  
and when he fell onto the road, it knocked the wind  
from him. His horse cried out, staggering to its  
feet and turning, facing orcs as they gathered.  
 
Legolas rose, his heart pounding in his chest and  
pulled his bow and an arrow together quickly. One  
struck an orc in the forehead, another in the  
chest and by the time a third landed they were  
upon him.  
 
He dropped his bow and pulled his blades, flashing  
them in all directions as the dark tide overran him.  
He fell and was held, rough hands pulling his  
weapons away and as he cried out to Elbereth, he  
felt his doom overtake him. 
 
*** 
 
Elrond beat his horse with his reins, the psychic  
terror of Legolas reaching them. They flew down  
the road, rounding the bend, passing orcs that  
had fallen in the chase. He reined in his horse,  
pulling his sword in a fluid moment and was on  
his feet in seconds. 
 
Rushing forward, Gil-galad’s name on his lips, he  
flashed his sword with abandon. For a moment they  
froze and then they turned, a black cloud of murder  
moving toward him. Then arrows struck home as  
Glorfindel and Erestor rushed forward, firing  
almost faster than the eye could follow. 
 
Orcs fell, others taking their place and for a 
moment the battle was almost too close to tell.  
But then they began to fall back, the ferocity of  
the Elves too much to absorb and then they melted  
back into the trees. 
 
Elrond paused and then flung down his sword,  
pulling orcs off the silent, still figure of Legolas.  
He cried out, pulling Legolas over onto his back,  
frantically searching him for signs of life.  
Glorfindel knelt beside him, gripping a wrist as he  
checked the boy. He turned, gripping Elrond’s arm. 
 
"He lives, Elrond." 
 
Elrond nodded and looked around. "We have to leave  
here. It grows dark." 
 
Glorfindel rose, looking around. Erestor stood, bow  
at the ready and Glorfindel whistled, gratified when  
four horses trotted back into view. He turned to  
Elrond. 
 
"What is his condition?" 
 
"He is bruised and battered. There is a concussive  
mark on his forehead. I don’t detect any wounds,"  
he replied, his relief clearly evident in his voice.  
 
"Then ride him on your horse and let us not tarry." 
 
Elrond moved the youngster, who stood groggily. They  
put him on Elrond’s horse and Glorfindel gathered  
their weapons, affixing them to Legolas’ steed.  
Mounting up, swords in hand, they rode briskly with  
Elrond, one on either side as they headed back  
toward the junction.  
 
Along the way, in the trees on either side, they  
caught flashes of movement as orcs followed. They  
hurried, their curved swords glinting in the fading  
light of the day and when they reached the junction  
they met the others returning.  
 
"Is he dead?" Elrohir asked, his eyes wide with fear. 
 
"No," Glorfindel replied as they watched Elrond check  
the groggy youngster’s pulse. His fingers lingered on  
Legolas’ neck as Elrond felt the thready beating. 
 
"He needs attention. We have to hurry." Elrond looked  
around them. "They fill the trees on each side of us.  
Let us not tarry." 
 
They grouped up, Elrond in the middle and rode as  
quickly as they dared toward the sanctuary of the  
valley beyond. It was dark when they reached the  
trail and after alerting sentries, they continued  
onward until they reached the courtyard of the  
house.  
 
Glorfindel dismounted and hurried to Elrond, catching  
Legolas gently in his arms. Elrond dismounted and  
took Legolas back, turning and walking into his house  
with his burden. They followed, others taking the  
horses and up the stairs they went. Elrond kicked  
open the door to his rooms and walked to his bed,  
gently laying the youngster down.  
 
Turning and tearing off his cloak, he examined the  
blow on Legolas’ head. It was black and angry, but  
very treatable. Elrond sighed and began a further  
examination, finding nothing more than black and 
blue marks and a small scrape on the side of  
Legolas’ neck. 
 
Rising, he began to treat the wounds, the concussion  
and the scrape. As he did, he worked on his own hurts  
and fear and the sure knowledge that Legolas would  
be leaving him when he was well. 
 
*** 
 
Haldir arrived early the next morning, a contingent  
of riders from the Great Wood at his side. He  
dismounted, met by Erestor and together they all  
walked inside, pausing before the fire in the great  
hall. 
 
"We are here for the Prince," Haldir said. "My Lord  
sends his greetings to you and yours." 
 
Erestor nodded. "There has been a problem. The young  
Prince has been attacked on the road by orcs. He is  
injured but recovering." 
 
"That is bad news," Haldir said, frowning. "His  
injuries ... they are not serious." 
 
"No," Erestor said. "We rescued him in time." 
 
"There are orcs everywhere and they are bold," Haldir  
said. "We saw their sign in the woods all along the  
way. They are not shy about crossing borders into  
fortified lands." 
 
Erestor nodded. "I know," he said. "Come. Let me fix  
you a repast." 
 
Haldir nodded and followed Erestor into the dining  
room, sitting at the table with his men. As he  
waited for his meal, he considered the delay and  
the threat against his own lands. They would have  
to make their moves soon before the enemy  
encompassed too much terrain. Their own battles had  
been fierce but they were holding their own and  
soon they would have to return. Soon the others  
would have to come and assist as the potential for  
disaster was growing stronger as each day passed. 
 
***  
 
It was early morning when he came out of the twilight  
that had surrounded him in his illness. He sighed,  
opening his eyes slowly. A figure was sitting on the  
bed next to him, a hand holding his and he turned his  
head toward it, the face of his lover finally  
coalescing before him.  
 
"Elrond," he whispered. 
 
Elrond smiled, kissing Legolas’ hand. "You spoke  
my name to me." 
 
Legolas stared at him, at the grief on his face and  
licked his dry lips. "I am sorry." 
 
"No," Elrond said quietly. "It is I who am sorry." 
 
Legolas closed his eyes, the burning tears therein  
welling up. He willed them not to fall and he  
turned his head away, sighing softly. "No one was 
hurt coming for me were they?" 
 
"No," Elrond replied, the image of him lying on the  
road welling up once more. He quashed it with  
difficulty, swallowing around the lump in his throat. 
 
"Good," Legolas replied, turning his head toward  
Elrond once more. "I am going home aren’t I." 
 
It was stated rather than asked and Elrond nodded  
barely perceptively, a tear rolling down his cheek.  
He brushed it away, holding Legolas’ hand tightly.  
"Men from Lorien are here to take you home." 
 
"I don’t want to go," Legolas said quietly. 
 
"I don’t want you to go," Elrond replied. 
 
It was quiet for a moment. "I want you to make  
me yours." 
 
Elrond looked at him. "You are." 
 
"More. Make me yours. I offered it to you once.  
You asked me for the honor." 
 
Elrond sighed, kissing Legolas’ hand. "You are  
hurt." 
 
"I am yours. Make it so between us. Please." 
Legolas stared at him, watching desire war with  
concern. "You are mine. Make me yours." 
 
Elrond swallowed hard and kissed Legolas’ hand  
once more. "Sleep. I will think on it." 
 
"Don’t think, Elrond. Make me yours. My father  
can’t own the heart of me. I want that to be  
yours. Take it. I give it to you." 
 
Elrond leaned down and kissed Legolas, lingering  
on his lips as he memorized the sensation of it.  
Soon it would be all he would have, memories and  
despair. "Rest and I will think on it." 
 
He rose and with a last caress of Legolas’ face,  
he turned and walked to the balcony, glancing  
back to see Legolas falling into sleep. He sighed  
and stepped out, watching the rays of golden  
light glance off the peaks beyond. The waterfalls  
shed their music into the air as birds rustled  
from their slumber. People stirred and began  
their days and the river flowed ever onward  
toward the great sea far away. 
 
Everything was happening as it ever did and  
nothing was the same. His world was collapsing  
around him, the small portion of it that he  
claimed for himself. Nothing could be done  
about it, he knew. Celeborn and Cirdan had tried.  
Their failures rankled them, he knew. His own ate  
at his heart, filling him with a dark despair  
that was overwhelming.  
 
He had not planned this, this aberration in his  
life but he was desperately grateful for it all  
the same. Before he had never noticed how alone  
he truly was and now he had found the sunlight  
again, even as shadows pressed all around him.  
 
Legolas wanted him, the last intimacy remaining to  
be seized between them and he acquiesced, denying  
to that youngster nothing. He would claim something  
of Legolas even as he was claimed and no matter  
what happened, no matter what Thranduil demanded,  
they would be bound to each other as surely as if  
they were together in this place. 
 
He watched the sun fill the sky, the darkness  
giving way to blue sky. For now it was bright but  
he knew the color would dim, as all colors would  
when Legolas rode out of his life. He stood a  
long time and then he walked back inside, sitting  
beside the sleeping youngster on his bed. As he  
sat, he memorized Legolas’ features, the soft  
sound of his breathing and the strength of his  
hand. Soon it would be all that he would have. 
 
*** 
 
Erestor left the chamber, Glorfindel behind him.  
Sitting in the corridor, almost as if on a death  
watch, Elladan and Elrohir waited. They rose and  
followed the two older Elves down the stairs,  
walking into the great room. A fire roared and  
they sat down, staring glumly into its bright  
heat. 
 
"Father knows Haldir is here?" Elrohir asked. 
 
"He does." Glorfindel sighed gently. 
 
"Then Legolas goes in the morning," Elrohir said. 
 
"He does," Glorfindel replied. "He does." 
 
************************************************ 
c2002 Jan. 26 ]:> TBC 
************************************************

************************************************ 
Title: Fortunate Son <19/19> 
Author: Arctapus, Helmboy, ]:> 
Codes: LOTR, Many, R and Up, Non-Au 
Post: Appropriate places 
Disclaimer: This story is mine. The world isn't.  
I imply no copyright infringement by using it. 
 
See part one for all other information. Thank you. 
************************************************ 
 
He sighed, the hands stroking his back strong and  
experienced. Candle light flickered, adding a soft  
glow to the room and as he lay awash with  
sensation he could almost forget that in the  
morning he had to leave. They had lain down  
together, holding each other in the quiet of their  
last evening. Elrond was gentle, more gentle than  
ever before and Legolas absorbed every sensation  
he coaxed.  
 
His own hands had roamed, sliding over smooth skin  
and firm muscle, lingering on scars both ancient  
and not so. His fingers threaded through dark hair,  
the texture recorded into his memories. He felt  
everything deeper and considered everything longer  
this night, their last. 
 
They lay together side by side, kissing and touching,  
whispering to each other in ancient and almost 
forgotten tongues. Elrond spoke to him, telling him  
of his love, the Quenya almost musical to his ears.  
He didn’t know every word and he cursed himself for  
not paying attention more closely to the tutors that  
he had as a child. The words were soft, almost like  
caresses and he listened to every syllable. 
 
He whispered back, answering each declaration, each  
softly spoken promise with words of his own. They  
felt smaller, the poetry of Elrond’s words eclipsing  
his own but they were equal in their passion. He  
sighed, raising his leg along Elrond’s, pressing  
against him as he leaned forward.  
 
Their lips met and there was silence, Elrond‘s hands  
caressing Legolas‘ back as he held the youngster.  
Legolas sighed against his lips, his eyes opening  
slowly. "Make me yours ..." 
 
The fire that flared in Elrond was from another time,  
another place altogether. He hadn’t felt this much  
need, this much possession in the entirety of his  
life and as he nodded, he kissed Legolas’ lips with  
all his passionate desire. 
 
The youngster groaned, turning as directed by Elrond’s  
strong hands. He lay on his stomach, his head pillowed  
on his arms and waited with eyes closed. Elrond sighed,  
running his fingers down Legolas’ spine, smoothing  
them across the base of his back, up the swell of his  
ass and down the long soft lines of his legs.  
 
He felt himself burning with need but he banked it,  
holding it back for the moment when he could unleash  
it in the beautiful body lying before him. He reached  
across Legolas and picked up a small vial, one he had  
brought with him moments earlier. It contained a  
special substance, fresh-smelling of meadow flowers  
but slick and oily in texture.  
 
He kissed his way down Legolas’ spine, lingering in  
the valley at its base, then moving on toward the firm  
flesh that beckoned him. He rubbed his cheek against  
them, pleasure surging through him at the answered  
sigh from his lover. He tipped the vial and poured a  
small drop or two onto his fingers, rubbing them  
together.  
 
He lay his head on Legolas’ back, kissing him softly  
and then reached for the place he needed. Legolas  
tensed and then relaxed slightly at the unfamiliar  
invasion of his body. Elrond sighed, the warmth rising  
up through him as the pleasure of this moment captured  
his senses.  
 
Legolas sighed and relaxed as best he could, long  
effort by Elrond being expended for his comfort. For  
a moment it was alien and then it was comforting, the  
odd sensation of intrusion being replaced by a  
growing pleasure. 
 
Over and over, the intrusion came and went, each time  
his own body relaxing more as the sensation became  
pleasant, even in a needy way. He considered in the  
fog of his growing passion that this was the last  
barrier between them. He was submitting to this with  
a willing heart, determined to find something that  
would be theirs no matter what happened next. 
 
Another man was going to take him and he felt pleasure  
in the idea of it. Whether the pleasure of the action  
met his hopes and dreams was entirely in Elrond’s  
hands. He didn’t have a clue how to help him. He just  
knew he needed him and this moment desperately. 
 
Elrond kissed his back, rubbing his cheek against  
Legolas’ body as he made his lover ready for him.  
This gift was enormous, the significance more than  
apparent and he did all he knew from a lifetime of  
experience to ensure that Legolas would know  
pleasure. 
 
Moving to rise, he pulled pillows to him, reaching  
under as he straddled Legolas to pull him to his  
knees. He slipped the pillows under him, pressing  
him gently down and then Elrond reached back,  
spreading his long legs apart. Taking the vial  
once more, he poured out a drop or two of oil,  
making himself ready as he stared down at his  
lover.  
 
Legolas was lying quietly, his long golden hair  
sprayed around his face, his eyes closed as he  
waited. Elrond leaned down, kissing his cheek.  
"Tell me if I hurt you," he whispered, brushing  
golden strands away from Legolas’ face.  
 
"You won’t hurt me," Legolas whispered, relaxing  
his body as he waited. 
 
Elrond sighed and kissed Legolas’ shoulder, lying  
down and reaching between them. He moved and found  
the place he sought, guiding himself slowly as he  
stared down at Legolas’ face. Elrond pressed  
forward, a slight grimace crossed that expressive 
face and as quickly as it came, it disappeared, a  
soft moan issuing from his lips.  
 
Elrond sighed and moved forward again, slowly and  
inexorably making his way. Legolas gripped the  
sheets, sighing softly but he didn’t speak, instead  
absorbing sensation as it rose in him. Elrond moved  
again, over and over until he could go no farther,  
relaxing against Legolas’ back, his weight carried  
on his arms. 
 
"I love you," Legolas whispered, his eyes flickering  
open. "I need you." 
 
Elrond kissed his shoulder, rubbing his head against  
the soft silk of Legolas’ hair. "I need you too." 
 
"Then do it," Legolas whispered, his eyes closing  
once more. 
 
Elrond sighed and began to move, slowly and carefully,  
his body pressed along the length of his lover.  
Legolas moaned, his breathing increasing as sweat  
began to bead on his face. Elrond felt it too, the  
heat between them and the sweat trickled down into  
his eyes. He closed them, moving more forcefully  
against his lover, reaching out and taking his hands  
into his own. 
 
Legolas felt it, the possession by his lover, the  
deep and emotionally raw moment searing itself into  
him. There were no other secrets between them, this  
intimacy marking petty all other things. He was  
filled and moved, Elrond’s strength leeching into  
him, absorbed as he was taken by the other. 
 
Elrond groaned, holding off as long as he could as  
he made the moment last. He felt all of Legolas at  
that moment, every muscle, every emotion and he  
took it in, desperate to know him in every way  
possible. Soon he would be gone and there would  
only be this moment, mocking him with its  
singularity as he faced the world alone again. 
 
The light flickered, dancing off sweat slicked skin  
and as Elrond moved he felt his moment coming. He  
groaned, his muscles tensing and all of his control  
began to fray. He thrust harder, falling into his  
orgasm and as he shuddered, he whispered Legolas’  
name.  
 
The youngster felt himself cleaving in two, the  
power of his lover almost overwhelming. He felt  
sensations he never known before and they welled  
up in him, eclipsing his conscience mind. He cried  
out, raising his head, his eyes closed in pleasure  
and pain.  
 
Elrond squeezed his hands, shuddering through his 
orgasm, falling heavily on Legolas as he did.  
Legolas jerked, the fire behind his eyes flashing  
like a storm as he twisted to his own conclusion.  
Then it was quiet, the two lying together, Elrond’s  
arms around his chest. It was silent a moment and  
then Legolas gripped Elrond’s arms, drawing them  
tightly around him. 
 
"Don’t leave me now," he whispered. "Stay right  
where you are." 
 
Elrond kissed Legolas’ shoulder, holding him close.  
"I’m here," he whispered. "I’m going to be here,  
Melme, as long as I can." 
 
The room was still for a long time after that, the  
candles flickering against the darkness. 
 
*** 
 
Haldir stood beside his horse, a grim look on his  
face. He hated this duty but he obeyed his king,  
riding to perform this delicate task for the Lord  
of the Wood.  
 
Behind him, waiting too, were his men. They would  
take the Prince of Mirkwood to his kingdom, meeting  
a party at the edge of the great forest. He would  
be glad when it was over. The sadness that clung  
over all of them here was deep. 
 
The door opened and a tall youngster walked out,  
dressed in riding clothes. He walked to his horse  
and mounted up, as behind him Lord Erestor,  
Glorfindel, Elladan and Elrohir stood watching on  
the steps behind him. 
 
Nowhere to be seen was the Lord of the House, a  
fact not surprising to Haldir. He turned and mounted  
up, nodding to the party at the door. Beside him,  
riding with eyes fixed straight ahead, the pale and  
lonely figure of the Prince of Mirkwood passed the  
gates. Out into the world he went and when he was  
gone, only then did the saddened figures on the  
steps turn away. 
 
***  
 
On a terrace above them, watching as long as he  
could, Elrond stared. He felt nothing inside, so  
wounded was his heart and he wondered as he  
watched if it was possible to die of grief. He  
knew it was, the tales coming to him and as he  
stood he felt despair coiling around his heart.  
 
They had made their goodbyes in private, holding  
to each other with a desperation he didn’t know  
was possible. They had promised their hearts to  
each other and then Legolas had turned, walking  
out the door forever. He had stared, things dying  
inside of him and then he had turned to the  
terrace, straining for a glimpse.  
 
Legolas was gone from sight, gone from his life  
and he knew that the best part of living was over.  
What would come from the next few years he didn’t  
know. He just knew he had duty, country,  
responsibility. He stood and stared, tears  
drowning his heart and as he did, winter fell 
over Rivendell. 
 
 
***EPILOGUE... 
 
He rode into the courtyard of his father’s house,  
noting the figures of his parents standing on the  
steps. His brothers had met him, their cold eyes  
searching for changes in the callow and self- 
absorbed youth that they knew.  
 
They found changes, he knew, but not the ones they  
figured on. He barely acknowledged them, riding  
past them as they met the party from Lorien. Haldir  
watched him go, the surprise on his brothers’ faces  
and knew it would be interesting that day. 
 
They had parted and his brothers caught up, finding  
no audience for their jibes in the silent figure  
beside them. They had arrived and dismounted,  
Legolas walking toward his parents. 
 
He bowed formally, staring evenly at both. His  
mother’s tears would have moved him before but  
nothing could touch him now. He hugged her, holding  
her until she stepped back, her face filled with  
happiness at his arrival. Her smile faded as she 
stared into his eyes, seeing nothing but desolation  
therein. 
 
He looked at her and then his father, nodding to  
them as they stood staring back. Then without a  
word, he turned and walked past, disappearing  
into the home of his birth.  
 
The silence in his wake was deafening. 
 
************************************************ 
c2002 Jan. 26 ]:> TBC in Son Rise 
************************************************