Title: Undone part 4 Author: Neldluva Author's Email: neldluva@hotmail.com Pairings: Legolas/Glorfindel, OC/OC Rating: NC 17 Summary: After the War of the Ring, Legolas and his newfound family have to decide what to do with their lives. Somewhat fluffy. Feedback: would make me eternally happy. Warning: mentions of MPREG, slash, slight voyeurism, possible foster- cest (not quite incest, but you know . . .) A/N: Yes, yet another in the series. After receiving so much positive feedback (thanks to everyone!), I just couldn’t put you through the torture of waiting much longer. For those who voted “yes” on Vanwalas/Thorondir, your wishes are granted. Otherwise, you’re out of luck. Please read the rest of the series before reading this, otherwise you will be terribly confused. I’m afraid this isn’t the richest part, plot-wise, but you need it . . . and there’s a nice piece of good old first-timing slash thrown in the mix. Please remember to email me and tell me what you thought! ~ Gimli found me that morning outside, watering the plants around our rooms at Minas Tirith. The poor things were wilted and brown for want of water and care. I sang soft songs of healing to them, and they thanked me in humble little voices. Of course, it was the dwarf’s rumbling that woke me from my musings. “Elf!” he called in his gruff voice. “Elf!” “What do you want?” I asked with mock annoyance. An understanding and, some might say, a friendship had grown between Gimli and myself over the past few months. He had impressed me with his fierce dwarfish fighting habits and his usually calm, logical way of thinking. If that wasn’t what intrigued me, then it was the fact that he amused me. He hobbled over on his stout legs, and I searched for his eyes in a face almost completely covered with his bushy beard. “They’ve spotted a party approaching from the northwest,” he announced. “They think it’s the company from Rivendell and Lothlorien.” At the words I leapt to attention. I had been waiting for the household of Rivendell to arrive for days. They would accompany Arwen, Aragorn’s beloved and future Queen of Gondor, and among them I expected to see Glorfindel, my lover, and Vanwalas, our son. “The northwest?” I asked to clarify. As soon as he nodded I was off. Minas Tirith took some getting used to. It was so un-Elvish so as to be alien to me, I who had dwelt only in Elvish lands. There was stone everywhere, and very few growing things. I tended to the neglected flowers and stunted trees that I found, pledging myself to return someday and restore some greenery to the City of Men. The attacks had shaken the already crumbling foundation, and everywhere I went I had to watch out for dangerous places where the ground could give way beneath my feet. And the corridors and roads twisted in mazes, seeking to disorient me. At last I reached the gates and wound myself out through the fallen towers, haphazard remnants of the battles. I lifted my gaze to the northwest, where sure enough I caught sight of a grand party slowly approaching across the Pelennor Fields. Banners waved and armor shone in the sunlight. I smiled at the unexpected joy and launched myself at a run over the Fields, hardly heeding Gimli’s huffing, puffing, and complaining from behind me. “Good afternoon my lords, my ladies,” I said, bowing to the company. “Welcome to Minas Tirith, the City of Men.” “Thank you for the gracious welcome, Prince Legolas,” lord Celeborn of Lothlorien said. “We see that the battles were not too hard on you after all?” “Nothing time will not heal, my lord,” I replied. It was strange, to both mourn the dead and rejoice at the life rewarded to us. “Please allow me and my . . . companion to escort you back to the City.” I gestured behind me to the breathless figure of Gimli. Lady Galadriel smiled from her position beside her husband. “Of course. Lead the way.” Gimli bowed wearily and turned to lead them towards our destination. I gestured to lord Celeborn. “My lord, would you mind if I left your presence for a short time? There is someone I must speak to.” “Of course not, Prince Legolas. Don’t let us occupy our time. I’m sure your dwarfish friend can lead us quite well to the City.” I bowed and made my way back into the company until I found who I was looking for. Glorfindel sat tall and proud and golden atop Asfaloth, his brilliant white horse. At his side rode my son, Vanwalas, hair shining both gold and dark in a Mirkwood style. He looked happy and excited to be visiting such a strange new place. Now here was something Glorfindel and I hadn’t discussed: what we were to do after the Quest was completed. I suppose the both of us had thought that we would fail in our mission. Where were we to live? I waved the thought away and called out to my lover and my son. “Good afternoon!” I shouted, trying to catch their attention. It worked, and they both looked over at me, seemingly overjoyed to see me. “How was the journey?” “Not too rough,” Glorfindel answered. “And how are you doing, Legolas?” “As well as can be expected.” I ran to meet them, dodging around the horses and litters. “Is that Arwen?” I asked, gesturing to an elaborately worked litter veiled in ivory lace. “Yes,” Glorfindel answered. “She is truly happy to be joining her beloved here.” I smiled up at him and caught his long hand with mine, and together we made our way towards Minas Tirith. ~ That evening, settled securely in the quarters within which I would spend the night with Glorfindel, we spoke of our respective journeys. Vanwalas sat at my feet, listening with rapt attention as I told of Moria and Lorien, then the battle of Helm’s Deep and Fangorn Forest, while I felt Glorfindel’s fingers drift through my hair comfortingly. With them I relived Mithrandir’s death, in a sense, and rebirth, then Boromir’s death, and the magnificence of the forest called Ithilien that bordered the Ephel Duath and had suffered Sauron’s wrath. “The Sea, though!” Vanwalas exclaimed. “Tell us of the Sea!” Something stuck in my throat at the mention of the Sea. Wood Elves, the way we are, saw little of the Sea. Not even in my wildest imaginings had I pictured such a perfect expanse of blue-green, a color akin to Glorfindel’s eyes, and the gulls swooping and calling overhead, and the calm predictability of the waves crashing on the shores. Aragorn and Gimli had had to drag me away from my dreaming. Somehow, somewhere in my heart was awoken a longing to go out on that great expanse of water and see what was on the other side. The lady Galadriel had spoken true; while my love and care was always devoted to the forest, my heart no longer truly rested beneath dark branches and green leaves. “Legolas?” Glorfindel asked. He waved his hand before my eyes, and I saw a worried expression on his face. “You left us for a moment.” “I’m sorry,” I said. “The Sea was . . . beautiful, Vanwalas. I can hardly describe it.” “Oh,” he said, giving me a look that said he didn’t understand. “Come on, youngling,” Glorfindel said, breaking the silence. “It is time you went to bed.” “I’m not tired,” he protested, dispelling the argument with a wide yawn. “And you can’t call me ‘youngling’ anymore, Father. I’m a grown Elf.” “A grown Elf needs his sleep as well. Go on, get going.” Vanwalas shrugged, rolled his eyes, and bent to kiss me on the cheek. “Good night, Legolas.” “Good night, Vanwalas,” I replied and returned the kiss. “It is good to see you again.” “Good night, Father,” he said to Glorfindel, who promptly shoved our son playfully out the door. When he turned back to me his arms were folded across his chest, and he was giving me a concerned sort of look. “What is it, Legolas? I don’t know if I could name what came over you just now.” “ ’Twas something Galadriel said,” I replied. I frowned, trying to remember her exact words. “ ‘Legolas Greenleaf long under tree/ In joy thou hast lived. Beware of the Sea! / If thou hearest the cry of the gull on the shore, / Thy heart shall then rest in the forest no more.’ ” “Oh,” he said, nodding as though he understood. “The Sea- longing. I have heard of it. I have never experienced it myself, for I spent much time on the Brighter Shores, but I understand that affects our cousins of Middle-earth.” “It nearly hurts,” I said, rubbing at my heart. It was true. An ache grew beneath my ribs, pulling me ultimately towards the crashing waves that I had fallen in love with. “I’m sorry, Calwaquén,” he said, enveloping me in his arms. “Why? I am not. I never expected to leave my forests, but look how far I’ve come in the past few months!” “And to think, I never thought we would come out of this alive,” he mused. “What shall we do now, Legolas? Where do we go?” “I’ve been thinking of asking Aragorn about taking Ithilien,” I answered softly. “I promised to escort Gimli to the Glittering Caves, and I still have yet to explore Fangorn. There are old trees there, Glorfindel. They have much to tell me. But afterwards . . . I would like to settle in Ithilien. I think we could help there. And I want to stay in Middle-earth until Aragorn’s death.” “That is good,” he said. “I would follow you wherever you go, and so would Vanwalas.” He shifted, and I knew him well enough to know that he was debating over asking his next question. “Will you return to Mirkwood?” “I need to see my family,” I said. “And my father is still my king. I need his permission to settle in Ithilien.” “And he should see his grandson.” I felt my body stiffen against my will. It had been my father who had prohibited Vanwalas entrance to our forest so many years ago. I didn’t know what sort of reaction to expect from my family. “I don’t want to bring trouble to Vanwalas. I don’t know what they would say.” “Why does it matter so much to you? You are stronger and more independent than you were. You don’t need their acceptance to love your son!” “I still want it.” I pushed away from him and stood. “I want my father to trust me again. I want him to love Vanwalas as he should.” “He will. It is impossible not to love Vanwalas.” “You don’t know my father so well,” I commented. I sighed and gave up the argument. “Let’s not talk anymore. You have had a long journey; you must be tired.” “Yes,” he said, putting a smile on for me. “I can’t wait to wake up with you in my arms again, Legolas.” “Good.” I stripped off my clothing and crawled beneath the sheets, and he soon followed. It did feel pleasant to be back in his warm arms again. I sighed, kissed his cheek, and drifted off to sleep. ~ The next morning dawned Midsummer’s Day and hailed the marriage of Arwen and Aragorn. It seemed the entire City was in an uproar with excitement. At Aragorn’s bidding I left Glorfindel and Vanwalas to help him prepare. He was more nervous than I had ever seen him before. When I found him he was pacing back and forth, worrying at a loose threat on his shirt. I smiled and shook my head. “Ah, Legolas, you’ve come!” he said, stepping up to greet me. “I don’t know what has come over me. I have faced down monsters most could not even imagine, and yet my mind races when I think of what Arwen and I will go through today . . .” “It is a big day for you,” I comforted. It wasn’t long before Gimli joined us as well. It took some threatening and bribery to get him into the tub to bathe. Together we succeeded in stripping Aragorn of his weather- beaten Ranger garb and wrestled him into his cleaner wedding attire. I had just finished straightening the white cloak over his shoulders when lord Elrond entered the room. I made to leave, in order to give them some time alone, but Aragorn caught my arm. “Legolas?” he asked. “Don’t worry, Aragorn,” I said. “This will be the best day in your life, my friend.” With one last comforting glance, I left the room with Gimli. “What are dwarf weddings like, Gimli?” I asked him. “Not too many of those recently,” he said, combing out his beard. “Not as fancy as you Elves and Men like to have ’em. It’s mostly just . . . well, your lord presiding and accepting the marriage. And then we eat!” “Of course,” I said with a laugh. “It isn’t so different from a wedding between Elves or Men. But Aragorn is a King, and I think a bit more is expected of him today.” “Hmm,” he grunted. “Think the lady Galadriel will be there?” I smiled. Much as he tried to hide it, I think that Gimli had become infatuated with the Lady of Lorien. “I’m sure of it. After all, Arwen is her granddaughter.” “Yeh. Where are you going now?” “I thought I’d go back to my rooms and change, then –“ “Legolas!” I spun around to see Lothwing dashing down the halls towards me. She had arrived with the party from Rivendell the day before. She looked out of breath and flustered. “There you are!” she finished. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Arwen is twisting herself in knots. She wanted me to come find you.” “Me?” I asked, wondering why. Gimli gave me a curious glance, and I realized that Lothwing's entire speech had been in Elvish. “I need to help the bride,” I explained with a smile. “Come with me,” Lothwing said. “Do you mind if I leave you for a moment?” I asked Gimli. “Not at all,” he answered. “I’m sure I’ll find some way to entertain myself. Don’t worry about me.” I nodded gratefully and followed Lothwing down the hallways to Arwen’s chambers. “Who’s the dwarf?” she asked when we were well away. “He was a member of the Fellowship, and has become my friend,” I replied. “Why?” “I’ve always had the impression that you didn’t get along very well with dwarfs. I thought it was strange that you were wandering around with him.” “I’m entitled to be able to change my opinions, am I not?” I smiled. “He’s not every dwarf, and he is slowly changing my ideas of the entire race. Contrary to popular belief, they are quite formidable warriors, despite their short stature.” “Here we are,” she announced, swinging open a door. Arwen was pacing the room, chewing on her fingernails and tossing her dark hair around her head. Elladan, Elrohir, and Galadriel were already present. The twins shrugged hopelessly and Galadriel wore a weary smile. “Look, dear, Legolas is here,” the Lady said, gesturing to me. “Please, maybe you can calm her down a bit. She’s nervous, you see.” “So is Aragorn,” I commented. “He doesn’t love me?” Arwen asked with a stricken look on her face. “He doesn’t want to marry me?” “I didn’t say that. In fact, he’s worried that you don’t want to go through with this. He loves you so much that he is willing to brave all of his anxiety in order to spend the rest of his life with you.” “Really?” She looked marginally less desperate. “Truly, he loves me?” “He loves you.” “Oh, thank you, Legolas!” she exclaimed, taking me in her arms. “Oh, I was so worried, you have no idea! Sometimes I think I should have married you, Legolas.” “Why would you say that?” I held her back so I could see her eyes. “I wouldn’t have to worry about your death,” she said tearfully. “Is that all?” I held her tightly. She had become nearly a sister to me over the time we had known each other. “Don’t fear, Arwen. Aragorn will not die for many years, and you will have a beautifully happy time together, I know it. And you will certainly be happier with him than you would have been with me.” “Yes, I know,” she said, wiping her eyes. “Thank you again, Legolas.” “Now rearrange yourself,” I said, straightening her hair. “You are beautiful. Aragorn will fall in love all over again.” She nodded, blotting her eyes with a handkerchief, and turned back to her grandmother. Elrohir mouthed a thank you to me over her shoulder while Elladan followed me out. “You have no idea, Legolas,” he said, shaking his head. “We came to see how she was doing this morning and she burst into tears.” “It is a very important day, and quite understandable.” I gave him a scrutinizing glance. “And you? How are you dealing with all of this?” “Don’t worry, I’ve already made all of the appropriate threats to Aragorn should he hurt my sister.” He smiled wickedly. “Are you worried about losing Arwen to a mortal life?” He sighed and shook his head. “We’ve already accepted it. What we want most of all is for her to be happy, and if this makes her happy, we are more than willing that she go through with it. After all, it’s not every day that both your brother and sister get married.” “Right,” I said with a smile. “Well, I’ve got a dwarf to see about a wedding. I’ll see you in a few hours.” ~ So it was that a few hours later, accompanied by Glorfindel, Vanwalas, and Gimli, I made my way out to the grand courtyard before the White Tree of Gondor. Most of the population of Minas Tirith was present, including a good number of the Royal Guard dressed in their black and silver livery. The lady Eowyn of Rohan had apparently gotten over her infatuation with Aragorn, for she was present with Faramir, brother of Boromir and the current Steward of Gondor. They were both healed of the injuries they had endured on the battlefield. Eomer, Eowyn’s brother and King of Rohan after the death of his uncle Theoden, presided over the Rohirrim that were assembled for the celebration. Our four hobbit companions stood in the front line of onlookers, not only due to their small height but also to the great renown they had won. My friends and I settled amongst the Rivendell party. I was the sole representative of Mirkwood present, excepting Vanwalas, perhaps; it was my responsibility to greet the King and Queen of Gondor in the proper fashion. It was a beautiful ceremony. The fresh summer breeze brought scents of flowers and the Sea to our noses while my beloved friends spoke their vows. They had both gotten over their apprehension, and I saw nothing but utter love and happiness on their faces as at last they were joined as husband and wife. I found myself wiping away tears at the magnificent sight. To Gimli’s great delight, there was indeed a feast after the ceremonies. It was great fun to wander among all of the different peoples present and hear them speak over their food. Women with their children pointed out the Elf and dwarf, namely Gimli and myself. We both basked in the ready praise for their ‘protectors’ and ‘fearsome warriors.’ Numerous times Glorfindel raised a sarcastic brow at me, but I laughed it off and hugged him. Indeed, none of the Elves were left alone. I could tell Vanwalas was slightly uncomfortable with all of the young women and, yes, Men, surrounding him. He had apparently never been subjected to that sort of attention and didn’t know how to handle it. The people of Minas Tirith were already familiar with the twins, Elladan and Elrohir, and me, but still we were begged many times to tell the story of the battles. I allowed Glorfindel his small group of admirers, for his glances in my direction told that they amused him. I just smiled back and went on with whatever story I happened to be telling. It was late when at last the festivities came to a close. We all wished Aragorn and Arwen a good night, and they blushed regally and made their exit. I collected Glorfindel, who had just finished regaling a group of Lorien Elves about his fight with the Balrog, and Vanwalas, who had retreated to a dark corner to whisper some mischief with Thorondir. Gimli, being one of my dearest friends, already knew of my relationship with Glorfindel, or the parts of the story I chose to tell him, and I had gained his permission to seek other accommodations during the nights. With Vanwalas secure in his own bed we settled down in ours. It was a cozy little room, with not much more in it but the bed, a table, and a few chairs. But I had known that Glorfindel would appreciate the window. It opened to a view of the gardens, and an old ash grew right outside. Birds would come to sing on the branches that scraped at the windowpanes. At that dark hour, only the moonlight shown through the dull green leaves and cast shadows upon the bed. “That was lovely to watch, wasn’t it?” I commented as I pulled off my robes. “They deserve to be together at last.” “Yes,” Glorfindel agreed. “For too long have there been lovestruck young people in Elrond's house. It’s nice to see two of them finally recognize each other.” “Here, let me untie your hair,” I offered, sitting behind him on the bed. I pulled at the golden strands until at last the soft braids came loose. He sighed and leaned his head back on my shoulder. “I would acknowledge you like that, Legolas,” he said, blue-green eyes searching my face. “If you wanted me to, I would.” “There is no need,” I replied honestly. “It matters little to me what the rest of the world thinks, so long as I know that you love me.” “Yet you want your family to acknowledge us.” I turned away. There was something uncomfortable about thinking of my family’s reaction – or, more accurately, my father’s reaction. My mother and siblings would probably have little say yea or nay in the matter, but it was my father who would object, and my father who I wanted to recognize his grandson. “Don’t worry, Calwaquén, I love you,” he said, kissing my bare shoulder. “I’m sorry if I troubled you. Let’s go to sleep.” I nodded and let him drag me down to the pillows. It was a safe little circle, and thus my mind was free to stew on my problems. I watched Glorfindel fall asleep, just because I wanted to, then soon followed him. ~ Vanwalas’s POV I hadn’t meant for it to happen like it did. I sat on a grand old ash tree, watching the sunrise in the newly unclouded east and listening to the birds herald the morning with their bright songs. The tree murmured in strange words that I had only ever heard Legolas speak of with accuracy. I glanced around toward the building that drew up against my tree and saw through the window that it was my father’s room. I was about to leap down from my perch when I saw something move from the bed. A warning went off in my head, telling me to leave the place and leave my father to his privacy, but I did not listen to it. For the most part I was drawn out of curiosity. How indeed did two males make love? I had a feeling I knew the mechanics of it, but I didn’t really know. Sure enough Legolas’s head appeared, stretching up to kiss my father. I had seen them kiss before, but never so . . . passionately. I thought again that I should leave, but it was such a beautiful and loving picture that it enthralled me. I watched as their hands slid beneath the sheets. “Vanwalas!” I was nearly startled off of my branch. I turned with wide eyes to see Thorondir grinning mischievously at me from a nearby bough “What are you doing here?” I asked in a whisper. “I came to see you before breakfast,” he answered. “What are you doing?” “Shh!” I said imperatively. “They’ll hear you!” “Who?” he asked curiously. “What are you watching?” “Nothing, we should get down,” I said, trying furiously to hide the blush on my face. “Good Valar,” he gasped. “Look at that! That’s your father and – “ “Yes, I know,” I said miserably. “Just come down, Thorondir.” “No, wait! I want to see how it happens!” He gave me another grin. “What harm could it do?” “They’ll see you!” I warned, though my curiosity was sparked again. “Nay, not through the leaves! Sweet Elbereth, I wonder if that hurts?” “What?” I asked. I scrambled back up to where he sat. “What happened? Oh, goodness, I can’t believe I’m watching this!” “Where did you think you came from?” He shook his head. “That’s amazing. I’ve never seen anything like this before.” “And I would rather never see anything like it ever again. They are my parents, Thorondir! Let’s climb down!” “Ah, well, it’s over anyways.” I glanced back in time to see Legolas give my father another one of those soul-searching kisses. I felt my heart pounding in my throat and turned away. Somehow, I managed to drag Thorondir down the tree after me. “Well, that’s something I never expected to see,” he commented as we walked back down the corridor. “Me neither,” I said grimly. “Well, at least you know they love each other, don’t you?” He put a comforting hand on my shoulder. “And you can’t deny you were curious.” “I suppose . . .” I said. We had arrived back at my rooms. “I want to change my clothes.” “Can I come in?” he asked. I nodded, and I heard the click of the lock behind me. “How long are you expecting to stay?” I asked teasingly He smiled, and I could tell he was nervous about something. “Vanwalas,” he said, “do you want to try it?” “Try what?” He looked away, and sudden realization flared in my mind. “Try making love?” I sputtered. “You’re right, it was probably a bad idea, I shouldn’t have brought it up.” He made to leave my room, but I stopped him. Thorondir had ever been one very close to me. Brothers we were, in a sense, for I looked upon Lothwing almost as my mother. I had never before desired him in that way, had never desired any male in that way. I studied him carefully. It certainly wasn’t for want of good looks that he had escaped my attention. His calm face had always been reassuring, his grey eyes understanding in the face of my troubles. He was no warrior, that was for sure. He was less interested in blades and arrows than his safely sprawling herbs, which he loved with a passion. So it was bare, slender muscle that adorned his body. Brown, pale, almost silver-shining hair flowed down his back, bound as usual in a single, unobtrusive braid. I had envied him the obedient hair. I met his eyes again, unsure of what I would find. Desire? Disappointment? I wanted none of these in Thorondir’s face. He looked slightly sad, quiet, all mischief gone from his expression. I had never seen him so honest and vulnerable. “Do you really wish it?” I asked softly. I relinquished my hold on his shirt, but he did not leave. “It was a foolish thought . . .” he began, but I didn’t let him finish. Curious, I settled my lips on his. At first he stiffened, clearly unnerved by the attack. It took a few moments before he calmed down. I was meanwhile absorbed with the new sensation. A wayward infatuation had attracted me to Legolas a few months earlier, and that had been my sole experience of kissing a male. Thorondir was . . . different, somehow. There was less yielding, less cushion in him than there had been in my few female lovers. Here was one who matched me in will and determination and strength, probably, as well. I backed away carefully, still eyeing him thoughtfully. He was silent, eyes downcast, but the blush on his cheeks was quite clear. “Have you ever done this before?” he asked softly. “No, not really,” I answered. “Do you still want to try?” “Only if you do . . .” So I tried again. Thorondir seemed to have overcome his shyness for his mouth opened eagerly under mine. With my eyes closed I attempted to pretend that it was not Thorondir (my brother?) that I was kissing, but it did not work, because it was Thorondir, and I was enjoying it. He had a most unique, indescribable taste, and his tongue skillfully chased mine. A drunken, floating feeling entered my mind. I felt his fingers twine in my hair, pulling me closer and deeper, and it was a perfect communion. At last I had to pull myself away to draw breath. His grey eyes were glassy and shining, and he had a giddy grin on his face. I suspected I looked similar. “I’ve heard the girls talk about your skill in kissing,” he said raggedly, “but I never expected to experience it firsthand.” “You surprised me as well.” A strange sort of tension was filling my body, and I realized with a start that I desired him, I desired Thorondir! It was quite an unanticipated feeling. I swallowed nervously. How far could I let it go? “What do you want to do now?” “I don’t want to do anything you don’t want to do, Vanwalas,” he said gently. A hand stroked my hair, and I leaned into the caress. “But I would like to see you with a bit less clothing on, if you don’t mind.” “You are polite!” I exclaimed with a short laugh. It was nothing spectacular that he was asking of me. We had seen each other naked many a time. But this was an unprecedented situation. He had a hungry sort of look in his eyes that told me that it was different. So I untied the laces to my jacket and let it fall to the floor. He nodded appreciatively. “Can I . . .?” he asked, gesturing to my shirt. I hesitated for a moment, then lifted my arms obligingly. I fought to suppress the shiver that ran through my muscles as he pulled my shirt free and up. I had to look away from his wondering eyes, from the glance that was so intense I feared losing myself in its consuming fire. Whatever he asked of me, I would give, for I loved him as I loved no other. Strange thought, though, to be in love with one’s best friend, nay, brother. “What about you?” I asked. “Or will I be the only one to bare himself today?” He smiled, looking just as nervous as I felt, and complied with my request. His jacket and shirt were soon lying on the floor next to mine, and I understood why it was so different to see him in the light of a lover instead of a friend. He was paler than I was, and justifiably so, spending so much time in Lothwing's storerooms as he did. But to watch him breathe was a mesmerizing experience. Every slight, pale plain of his body somehow managed to look insurmountably more seductive than any female I had ever laid eyes on. “Well?” he said, and I could hear his voice shake. “What’s next?” I shrugged, feeling unsure. It was a shock when Thorondir suddenly clasped me about the shoulders and kissed me deeply. Caught unawares, I staggered backwards until the backs of my knees hit my bed, effectively toppling me to the mattress. What a singular feeling to have his body cover mine! Warrior he was not, yet he was able to attack my senses so thoroughly that I felt dizzy. I couldn’t help the feeling of growing arousal, and I moaned when his lips left my mouth. Hot, torturous kisses placed on my neck. My ears had always been very sensitive, and he discovered how to use the knowledge in a good manner. Everywhere our skin met felt as though we were burning. I wound my fingers in his hair, no longer so unruffled-looking, and pulled him closer again. “Ai, good Valar!” I exclaimed. “What are you doing to me?” “Surely nothing that you aren’t doing to me!” he replied. I realized with a start that his stiff flesh was pressing demandingly against my thigh. How had I spread my legs so wantonly? But all thoughts rushed away again when he returned his attention to my ear. And then he began to ease my leggings down my hips. Fiery passion flooded my veins, as well as a desire to see him completely bared as well. I returned the favor, kissing him as skillfully as I knew how. At last, both fully naked, we stared at each other in wonder. For the first time it really occurred to me what we were about to do. And to my surprise I found that I wanted it, wanted it with the very core of my being. In the midst of the kisses and the caresses a voice of reason sounded in my head, and I gently turned away. “What?” he asked, and I could see that he was worried. His grey eyes shone in abandon. “You said that it might be hereditary, this ability to have children,” I said. “I don’t want to take such chances. Neither of us are ready for a child yet, Thorondir.” He nodded and collapsed next to me. “What are we to do, then? We can’t stop now.” “No, that we can’t,” I agreed. An idea sprung to my mind, and I maneuvered myself on top of him. “But it could be the other way. If you want to, I could try my luck.” He frowned, clearly skeptical. “Are you sure?” “I should be asking you that. I do need your permission.” He considered for a moment, for he had never been the one to make quick decisions, before nodding. I felt a smile on my lips as I bent to kiss him again. There was still desire in his taste, and my heart fluttered. We were once again wound tightly in our passion before the voice of reason decided to speak again. “I think we need something to ease our way,” I muttered against his lips. “Something slippery.” “Look in my pack,” he said with a groan. I did as he instructed, returning with the leaves of a plant known for the slippery oil it secreted. I grinned and said, “You are wicked, aren’t you?” “My mother is the herb-mistress of Imladris; what did you expect?” He smiled before spreading his legs in supplication. “Please?” So, dredging up all of my limited knowledge and relying mostly on instinct, I set my oil-slicked fingers to work exploring Thorondir’s body. There was that tiny place beneath him, a place of utmost intimacy, and this was where males were supposed to make love. I nudged carefully. “This might be easier if you weren’t so tense,” I said. “Sorry. I’m a bit nervous.” “I’ll try not to hurt you.” I hesitantly extended a finger inside him. His breath caught and he shifted. I wondered curiously at the tightness, completely unfeminine and unexpected. How far could I let it go? I let another finger breach him. “Can’t see why anyone would enjoy this . . .” he muttered uncomfortably. Then, suddenly and unaccountably, he yelped and arched off the bed. “What is it?” I asked worriedly. “What is wrong?” “By Elbereth and all her stars!” “Thorondir!” “Nothing, Vanwalas! It felt so good . . . just do it again, please!” To prove himself he kissed me again with renewed passion and vigor. Thoughts fled my mind and all I wanted was to be buried in the tight heat . . . Something told me that the time had come. Neither of us could last much longer, and he had no idea how much he was torturing me as he writhed beneath me. So I applied the oil from the leaves and began to inch my way inside. He grew silent and still, and it struck my heart to see the painful expression on his face. “You have to keep going,” he comforted. “I know it will get better, just hurry up. I trust you, Vanwalas. It doesn’t hurt so bad.” The last part was a lie, but it was reassuring anyways. But at last I got my wish, buried deep inside until I could hardly tell where he ended and I began. I had never expected such an intense feeling of completion to settle upon me. So, with his safe permission, I began to move, making note to aim for the spot that had caused him such pleasure before. He gasped, opened his eyes wide, and there was surprise on his face. Neither of us had known it would feel so good. I found it difficult to form coherent thoughts, so lost was I in the deep grey eyes that were locked to mine. He kissed me again, and I felt the silent plea of harder, faster. I obliged his wishes and we moved as one. Passion, lust, love – whatever it was, it overwhelmed me until at last the tension that had been building in my loins was released. “Vanwalas,” he whimpered. I understood and took the still-stiff flesh in my hand, stroking until he came with a soft cry. We languished in my bed, enjoying the exhausted aftermath of making such intense love. It was difficult to believe that it was still that same morning; it felt as though days had passed between us. “I’ve always thought you were so beautiful,” he said as he stroked my hair. My head rested comfortably on his chest, rising and falling with his gentle breathing, and I felt loved. “Hmm?” I said. “You, with your perfect features and your enthralling black eyes and warrior prowess – and yes, the hair that you so love to hate. I’ve always loved you so much.” “Don’t say that you’ve loved me as a lover would all this time and I haven’t seen it!” I exclaimed. “Nay, it wasn’t until this morning that the thought really appealed to me.” He sighed. “I’m happy now that we’ve done this. I’ve been curious ever since you told me about your true parentage.” “You’re beautiful too,” I murmured. “Not really.” “You are. Your eyes are always so gentle and sparkling, and I love to play with your hair.” “Only because yours is a rat’s nest.” He yawned. “Can we sleep for a while? Or do you think they’ll expect us at breakfast?” “I could care less what they expect,” I said, kissing his cheek. “So let’s sleep.” I watched him as he faded off into his dreams and wondered about the change in our relationship. It would change, that I was sure of. No longer were we purely brothers or friends; we had crossed the line into the realm of lovers. And he did look so utterly beautiful as he slept beside me. Had my ill-placed infatuation with Legolas been merely an expression of the love I held for Thorondir? I had previously noted the similarities between them – they looks on their faces, their way of speaking and acting, the way they wore their hair. But Thorondir was all mine, and I felt something deeper with him than I had felt with Legolas. Was it true love? I couldn’t tell yet. Best to let it play out as it would. ~ Legolas’s POV Sated and peaceful after my lovemaking with Glorfindel, I wandered down the halls in search of breakfast. To be united with the one I loved was magnificent. Now just to check on my son . . . I knocked softly and called his name. When there was no answer, I pushed open the door. To my great surprise there were two people in the bed. Vanwalas had his long slender limbs possessively entwined around Thorondir, the son of my friend Lothwing. I had not known their relationship extended beyond friendship, and while I was a bit startled, I was ready to accept it. I would not repeat the mistakes my father had made. I continued on my way to the breakfast table. There were a few Elves present: I recognized Glorfindel, Elladan, Elrohir, Elrond, and Lothwing. I had a feeling that Aragorn and Arwen were too occupied with each other to make an appearance, so I settled in the seat next to Glorfindel. “It looks like you are brooding, Legolas,” he said, deftly reading my emotions as usual. “What are you thinking about?” I hesitated before asking, “Has Vanwalas had many lovers?” “A few she-Elves over the years, but nothing serious. Why?” “No reason. I was just curious.” I wondered what had changed my son’s mind so suddenly from females to males? I mused that it probably had something to do with my relationship with Glorfindel. “Where is the rascal, anyways?” Elladan asked as he munched away on his breakfast. “I think he had something of a rough night last night,” I explained. “Don’t expect to see him for another few hours.” “Keep your secrets then, Legolas,” Elrohir quipped. “You know something we don’t. Don’t deny it.” “I won’t. But Vanwalas’s business is his own, and I’ll let him decide what to tell you.” Both twins scowled good-naturedly, and I received questioning glances from Elrond and Glorfindel. I avoided Lothwing's gaze. I didn’t know how much she knew or needed to know about the situation, and it was probably best that she didn’t hear it from my mouth. ~ It wasn’t long until there was talk of leaving Minas Tirith. What remained of the Fellowship planned to accompany the funeral party of King Theoden of Rohan. From there, we would take our separate paths. The hobbits, as well as Gandalf, Elrond, Galadriel, and Celeborn, meant to go north. Aragorn and Arwen would return to rule Gondor from Minas Tirith. As for Gimli and I, we had caves and forests to explore before we returned to our respective homes. Then – Mirkwood. I hadn’t been home in months, and already I was starting to miss it. It would be my goodbye to my birthplace, my forest. Aragorn had given me permission to settle in Ithilien with whatever Elves were willing. But what of Vanwalas and Glorfindel while I was away with Gimli? I knocked carefully on my son’s door, not wishing to repeat the episode I had seen before. Sure enough there were some scuffling sounds and soft whispers before the door opened, revealing a flustered looking and half-dressed Vanwalas. I fought to hide my smile. “Mind if I come in?” I asked. “I need to speak with you on an important subject.” “Of course not,” he said, though I noted the quick nervous glance he sent around the room. He gestured for me to sit at a chair. “What is it?” “You know that I’m going away with Gimli for a while,” I began. He nodded. “I know you have more interesting things to occupy your time while I’m gone. But afterwards, I would like to return to my home in Mirkwood. And I would . . . like to extend an invitation to you, if you’re interested.” Vanwalas frowned in consideration, but we were both startled when Thorondir burst from behind a curtain. “No!” he cried. “I won’t have you leave me!” There was a look of such uncharacteristic distress on his face that I was afraid for a moment. “I won’t leave you!” Vanwalas proclaimed, rising to embrace him. My son folded the other Elf in his arms, stroking his hair and murmuring soothingly to him. It seemed I was quite forgotten. I cleared my throat, and they both looked at me in surprise. Immediately they went to separate, Thorondir sitting on the bed and Vanwalas in the chair across from me, but their hands were still joined. “So?” Vanwalas asked. His gaze challenged me to disapprove. “What do you say?” I shrugged and smiled. “There is little for me to say. Whatever makes you happy makes me happy, youngling.” I turned to Thorondir. “The invitation is to you and your mother as well, should you wish to join us. I wouldn’t want to separate you two, not after that display.” Both of them blushed and muttered a thank you. “It is very generous,” Thorondir said softly. “Think nothing of it. You should see to your mother. She’s tearing the City apart looking for you.” With one last loving glance towards Vanwalas, he disappeared out the door, pulling a shirt over his head as he did so. At last it was me, alone, with my son. With Thorondir gone I could tell his attention was fully on the matter before him. I wanted so desperately for him to say yes, to agree to see Mirkwood with me. “I’d like to,” he said finally. “I’ve always wanted to go to Mirkwood. And I’d like to see the rest of your – my – family. I haven’t really had aunts or uncles before.” “Good,” I said, and I could not keep the ecstatic grin off my face. “Very good. You will be welcomed, I know you will. My family will love you. It will be your family. I’m very glad that you want to come with me.” Hesitantly, I embraced him, for I still was not quite sure how to act around him. To my great relief he hugged me back and kissed my cheek. “Thank you, Legolas,” he said. “I’ll leave you alone now,” I said. “You might want to get dressed.” He rolled his eyes. “I will.” My feet felt lighter as I walked back down the halls. It felt like nothing in the world could go wrong. I refused to let it enter my mind the imagined confrontation with my father that would undoubtedly take place. ~ King Theoden would have been astounded at the size of the funeral party that set out from Minas Tirith in the deep, hot days of summer. Elves, Men, a few hobbits, a wizard, and a dwarf – quite the mismatched group. And despite the somber nature of the journey, it was a joyous sort of feel that pervaded the camp. All beings relished in their right to live, which they had fought for so furiously hardly four months ago. And the funeral itself was both mournful and wonderful. Rohan itself was a lovely land, with its rolling grassy hills and sunny weather. I was quite sure that Theoden would have been proud of Eomer and Eowyn that day. It was custom among Elves to show great respect to the dead, but it was apparently even more so among Men. They truly lamented their uncle’s loss. But at last came time for the Fellowship to part. Friendship and brotherhood would eternally bind us, but our homes beckoned to each of us. There were a few tears shed at the good-byes, not all of them mine, and Gimli and I set off in a northwesterly direction, wrung with promises to visit the Shire and Minas Tirith. I had already arranged with Glorfindel and Vanwalas to meet them on the southern borders of Mirkwood in six months time. Meanwhile, they would stay in Minas Tirith to help Aragorn and Arwen settle in. I had seen Glorfindel wipe away tears after we had finished kissing, and Vanwalas made no effort to disguise his fervent wish for me to return. Thorondir and Lothwing had agreed to accompany us to Mirkwood, and he stood with my son. They did not touch in the open yet, but the love emanating from them was palpable. I hoped that Thorondir would soon tell Lothwing about his new relationship. At last it was just Gimli and I, riding Arod slowly over the plains of the Horse-land towards the caves he had seen when we were in Helm’s Deep. Despite the fact that I had left those I loved behind, I felt happiness in my heart. I reveled in freedom and life, and that was enough to send me into song. I ignored Gimli’s strange look and continued on, ever onwards towards new discoveries and adventures. ~ So? How did you like it? Please email me and give me your opinion on this: neldluva@hotmail.com Part 5 is soon to be finished (I hope!), and will be up as soon as it is. Does that make any sense at all? Oh well . . .