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Request: Legolas/Haldir or Legolas/Glorfindel or Legolas/one of the twins. An elf wearing nothing but flowers in his hair, a shared bath, one half of the pair pretending to be a kitten for his lover, any sort of D/s or BDSM play
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Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage." – Lao Tzu
~***~
Legolas sat on an outcrop of rock just inside the tree line gazing out on the spring meadow beyond. The wood was peaceful, with a light breeze ruffling the grasses and making the branches overhead ripple with a contented rustle. He was dressed in russet leggings and a forest green tunic with a pattern of beech leaves textured into the fabric. He sat with a leg drawn up to his chest, his arms hanging loosely around his knee, enjoying the whispers of the trees and birdsong. The peacefulness of the forest heartened Legolas even more than its lush beauty. The part of the wood now called East Lórien was more beautiful than any wood he had ever seen, including Lothlórien at the height of the Lady’s powers. Legolas could scarcely believe that less than a mile away was the hill where the dark tower of Dol Guldur once stood.
As he sat deep in thought, two young Elves ran into the clearing, laughing and holding hands. They stopped, turned to each other and fell into a kiss. They appeared to have come to the spot for a bit of privacy, and Legolas thought of getting up to leave. Before he could move the two broke apart and one looked around the meadow and began to pick flowers from the profusion of spring blooms that grew there. A memory tugged up the corners of Legolas’s lips, a pleasant image from his past. His curiosity piqued, Legolas sat still so as not to give away his presence. He did not want the youths to think he was spying on them, though in a way he was.
One of the young Elves began to twine the bright red and yellow blossoms into a nosegay while the other offered suggestions and chuckled at his less than dexterous efforts. When the youth finished he placed it upon the head of his partner, whose eyes shone with happiness.
“For me?”
The youth smiled and fell to one knee, placing a hand over his heart. “With these flowers I plight you my troth,” he said with the earnestness of smitten youth. “When we are of age I will marry you and we will bond and never be parted.”
The other youth looked around nervously. He bit his lip then looked back at his companion. “You know there is nothing I want more but. . .”
“But that is not how things are done!” the other finished with contempt. “There is no prohibition against it.”
“True, yet it is frowned upon, especially among members of the council, and their sons.”
“Bannoth take the council!” his companion snarled. “We don’t have to bow to the whims of those stiff-necked dullards, or my father.” His look turned wistful. “Unless there’s another reason you’re hesitant.”
“You know it isn’t that.” The youth took his partner’s hand and kissed it tenderly. “I want only you, but I’m not sure I am brave enough to bear the looks, the whispers, the disappointment in my mother’s eyes. . .”
Legolas scowled and shook his head in sympathy. The local clans had their own ways and his father did not interfere, but they were often provincial to a ridiculous extreme. Things were so different in his father’s court in his own youth. Of course the Greenwood had taken an unthinkable loss at the Dagorlad, and as a result the Elves of the Greenwood had a need to replenish their male population quickly. It was not planned by the people or passed down as an edict by the king, it was merely an unspoken, shared recognition of the necessity for a strong defense that had led to a surfeit of male children. At one time the ratio of males to females throughout the realm had been as high as ten to one.
This was the world in which he had grown up, a world where relationships between men were acknowledged without fanfare or shame. It was not until he had gone into the wider world that Legolas realized the Greenwood was an unusual place among the Elven realms.
As the youths stole off into the forest beyond the meadow, possibly for a more intimate tryst, Legolas wandered the paths of memory.
~***~
Lothlórien in springtime. How he had longed to see this sight when he was with the Fellowship, and how heavy had been his heart upon departing. Now, six years after the war he was finally here, and the songs did not begin to describe its beauty. The branches of the stately Mellyrn soared high above, their silver boughs bedecked with green and gold while at their roots lay a carpet of golden leaves. For a long time he simply wandered about, touching the tree trunks and listening to the life within their ancient hearts. They had many stories to tell and he wished to hear them all.
Suddenly, he was startled out of his musings by a familiar voice overhead.
“Mae govannen, Legolas Thranduilion.”
He looked up but the foliage was too thick to see the owner of the voice. “Mae govannen, Haldir,” he called up.
A rope ladder dropped and Haldir climbed down swiftly.
“Still guarding the fences?” Legolas asked with a smile.
“Not so much guarding these days as keeping lookout. There are still occasional dangers for which we must be alert.”
“I hope your Lord will forgive me for turning up unannounced, but I have reason to visit our Galadren kin.”
Haldir looked up and made a sign and the rope ladder ascended. He motioned for Legolas to accompany him and they set out for Caras Galadhon. “Lord Celeborn will be pleased to see you, but what is the purpose of your visit?”
“I am looking for Elves to start a colony in Ithilien. It was once the garden of Gondor before the evil of Sauron diminished it. I and others wish to heal the land while we may.”
Haldir thought this over. “I do not know what welcome such news will receive. Our people have been departing steadily since the war. Many have sailed and others have left to make their home in the south of Eryn Lasgalen, between the Greenwood and the Gold.”
“I expect the colony will be few but I would like for our sundered peoples to have the chance to live together and learn from each other until the sea longing takes us or we seek our homes among the Elven woods once more.”
“Lord Celeborn will not hinder your plans, but our people who have not already left may not be eager to do so now that the shadow has been lifted. Still, I am certain he will give you leave to speak to whomever you wish and make your offer.”
“How about you?” Legolas said. “Would you be interested in leaving the Golden Wood?”
Haldir was startled. “Me? I have guarded this land as long as I can remember. I am a warrior. What use could Ithilien have for me in this time of peace?
“You sell yourself short, Haldir. You have traveled, you speak several languages fluently, your skills go far beyond those of a guardsman or soldier. Why, I shot down a Nazgûl with the arrow you made. Did you know that?”
“I have not heard this story,” Haldir said in wonder. “Such a tale should have a song to tell it.”
“I have written one,” Legolas said, “but I only sing it in the bath.”
“You shall have to sing it for me one day,” Haldir replied.
Legolas grinned impishly. “Only if you are willing to share a bath.”
Haldir paused for an uncertain moment then gave a little laugh. Legolas shot him a sidelong glance and gave him a smile that made Haldir raise his eyebrows in surprise. Haldir’s lips twitched in a shy smile of his own.
Lord Celeborn’s hall was very different from Legolas’s memories of a few short years ago. There had been a dreamlike quality when Galadriel was in residence that was missing from Caras Galadhon now. Though the timelessness of the place still remained, its magic had a more dynamic, almost restive, aspect to it that Legolas found invigorating.
He saw upon entering the hall that the court of the Golden Wood’s Lord was much diminished, but still held an almost palpable power. Celeborn greeted him graciously and listened as Legolas told him of his intentions. He too expressed the opinion that Legolas would not find many Elves willing to accompany him but gave him leave to stay as long as he wished. Legolas thanked him and requested that Haldir escort him during his time in Lothlórien. Lord Celeborn gave Haldir an enigmatic smile and granted the request.
As they left the talan, Legolas said to Haldir, “I hope you do not mind that I asked for you. I enjoyed our brief time together when I was here last and I hope also the Galadrim will at least hear my proposal if one of their own is there to ease my way.”
“It is my honor, Prince Thranduilion to escort and introduce you, but I am afraid I cannot support your plan to lure our people from the Golden Wood.”
Legolas made a face. “Please, no ‘Prince Thranduilion’. We do not stand on formalities in the Greenwood nor do I wish to exercise any authority of rank. I am much more comfortable being called Legolas. And I have nothing with which to lure your people away, only the promise of a new venture and a chance to renew a land too long ravaged by evil.”
“But do not the Elven realms also need our skill to throw off the evil yoke that oppressed us and kept us hidden away for years unnumbered? The Greenwood was especially plagued by the Shadow.”
Legolas was silent for a moment. He swallowed hard before he continued. “The Greenwood has a strong and noble king to see to its health. My path lies elsewhere now.”
“I wish we had gotten the opportunity to spend more time together during your last visit,” Haldir said, changing the subject for the moment. “I welcome the chance to do so now. I am honored that you chose me as your guide… Legolas.”
Legolas gave him a warm smile. “Our brief visit during the quest was a memory that has stayed with me. I was hoping to find you still in Lothlórien.”
“I will never sail as long as my Lord remains upon these shores,” Haldir said with conviction.
“Your loyalty to your lord is admirable, and to your brothers as well. I am assuming they have also remained.”
“Rúmil sailed with our Lady and Orophin guards the borders of East Lórien now. It was quite a blow to lose Rúmil to the sea. He was the youngest among us and I had hoped to he would want to stay in Middle-earth for many long years before answering the call but the war wounded many in ways not always visible and I fear Rúmil was among those who needed to seek the healing shores of Eldamar.”
“I am truly sorry to hear that, Haldir.” Legolas’s voice was thick with emotion. “The Greenwood took great losses as well, both from battle and wounds to the spirit. I too lost someone dear to me, someone whose loss I have not yet reconciled myself to. It is one reason I am seeking a fresh start in Ithilien.”
“Was it a good friend?”
“Much more.” Legolas looked up at the bright blue sky above and a wistful smile touched his lips. “I hope by the time the sea longing takes me, Mandos will be but a distant memory for him.”
Haldir was moved to put a comforting hand upon Legolas’s shoulder and Legolas placed his hand over Haldir’s and gave it a little squeeze. “But come, how can we be aught but merry on such a beautiful day? Please, reacquaint me with your fair city.”
The two set off along the pathways among the treetops. They wandered from flet to flet for a time, enjoying the sway of the boughs beneath their feet, chatting with the people they met along the way. Haldir introduced Legolas around and he spoke to them of his recruiting plans for Ithilien. While most of those they spoke to were not interested, Legolas met two men, one Sinda and one Silvan, who expressed the desire to know more. Haldir told them where Legolas would be staying and they promised to seek him out and discuss his proposal in more depth upon the morrow.
They continued on, stopping at the market square where Legolas purchased a keen-edged knife with a curved blade. The hilt was of polished mallorn wood with an etching of an eagle so lifelike Legolas felt it might fly from his hand. The market was bustling with people and they moved with the flow of the crowd for a time before proceeding to a little tavern off the square with a stunning view of the Celebrant a short distance away. They sipped a light wine the Galadren fermented from the delicate golden Elanor flowers and chatted like old friends far into the evening. As the stars began to twinkle above the treetops, Haldir escorted Legolas to the talan next to his own where Rúmil once lived and bade him good evening. The two stared at each other for a moment when Legolas suddenly took Haldir by the shoulders and pressed a brazen kiss to his lips.
For a brief second Haldir melted into it but then he pushed Legolas away, his face red with fury.
“What are you…? How could you think…? Have you lost your wits?” Haldir raged.
“Forgive me if I misread you, but I did not think you would find a kiss unpleasant,” Legolas said. “In fact I thought perhaps you might enjoy it.”
“Why in Arda would you think that?” Haldir’s eyes were wide and panicky.
“Do you not remember, during the war when we came to the Golden Wood and you made us walk blindfold? You knew the others could not see and you touched my shoulder, guiding me like I was a maiden even though the way was clear. Had I not been so angry at the injustice of being blindfolded by my own Elven kin I would have let you know your touch was quite to my liking.”
“It is the wine,” Haldir said, trying to make sense of the situation in his mind. “You are drunk, Legolas. Yes, that’s it, you are drunk and you do not know what you are doing. Go sleep it off and we will speak of this no more.”
Legolas gave a merry laugh. “I am used to far more potent drink. The court of the Greenwood favors Dorwinion after all. There is no reason to deny your feelings, is there? Unless I have been mistaken all these years.”
“You are very much mistaken,” Haldir snapped. “Now I must ask that you speak no more of this. Upon the morrow I will go to Lord Celeborn and ask him to assign you another escort. Good night.” And with that Haldir turned and went to his own talan.
“As you wish,” Legolas called after him. “But I hope you will change your mind. I meant no harm.”
Haldir did not reply.
The next morning Legolas glanced at Haldir’s talan as he left his own but the march-warden was nowhere to be seen. He was sorry that Haldir had taken his overture so poorly but not sorry he had acted on impulse. While he was certain he was not wrong about Haldir, he had no wish to make him uncomfortable. With a longing look toward Haldir’s talan Legolas set out among the treetops for a morning stroll. As he walked he met one of the Elves he had spoken to the day before.
"Good morning, Legolas," the Sinda said. "I was just on my way to the baths and then I planned to stop by and talk with you about your proposed colony in Ithilien."
"Would you mind if I accompanied you to the baths?" Legolas asked. "I have not had a proper soak since my journey from the Greenwood."
"That is a good idea. We can discuss your plans there or at your talan after."
"Whichever you prefer," Legolas said amiably. "I find a hot bath a pleasant place to discuss almost any matter.”
The Sinda guided Legolas from the trees to the ground and they walked over a carpet of golden leaves a short distance through the wood to an Elven grotto where a hot spring bubbled up from underground. The Galadrim had built a bathhouse to take advantage of the naturally occurring hot water, disguising the grotto to look like a moss-encrusted boulder.
Legolas did not remember this place from his previous visit to the Golden Wood and he mentioned this to his Sinda companion. The man told him the bathhouse was built after the war when the attack had left some of their warriors unable to climb into the trees until their wounds were healed. The bathhouse was used for therapy as well as providing a place for communal bathing and socializing. The grotto was divided into two rooms, one for the men and one for the women, and separate entrances for each were provided.
They entered through a curtain of vines and walked down a small flight of steps. There was a changing room where they removed their clothes before entering the bathing chamber beyond. The bath consisted of a large pink marble basin filled with steaming water, its rim carved with a knotwork pattern favored by the Lórien Elves. On the other side of the tub were two massage tables; along the wall was shelving containing flasks of oil, soap, and towels.
The walls were decorated with frescos of Telerin swan ships sailing white capped waves while seagulls wheeled above in a shimmering blue sky adorned with plump white clouds. Legolas felt a pang of sea longing at the sight that dazed him with its intensity. He looked away quickly and undressed, but it was as though he could feel the pitch and yaw of a ship beneath his feet as he lowered himself into the steaming water. He was glad for his Sinda companion to distract him from the feelings churning in his stomach.
They began to talk and Legolas described Ithilien and the ravages the war had wreaked on the fair lands of Gondor. He talked of how the Elves could bring the forests and streams, the hills and valleys of the land back to the beauty that had earned the land the title of the Garden of Gondor. He was so excited about the endeavor that the Sinda got caught up in the idea as well. It turned out the man was one of the keepers of the mellyrn who had always desired to travel and see other lands before he sailed. By the time they were finished with their bath the man had promised to accompany Legolas to Ithilien and gave him directions to his talan. He asked Legolas if he wanted to accompany him to breakfast as well but Legolas said he was enjoying the bath too much to leave and would seek out the man later.
When the man left, Legolas leaned back against the marble and closed his eyes, draping a towel over his head. He gave a sigh of contentment and dozed for a time. They had nothing like this in the Greenwood and Legolas was more relaxed and at peace than he had been in many a year. The sound of someone entering the bath woke him and he blinked and opened his eyes beneath the towel. Steamy water rippled around him, displaced by a body sliding into the tub and settling in. He pulled the towel off his head and sat up to see Haldir sitting next to him. Haldir gasped in surprise when he saw who was sharing the tub with him.
“You!” he said, making the word sound like an accusation.
Legolas could not help but smile, though he felt sorry for Haldir having come upon him unexpectedly like this.
“Good morning, Haldir. I hope last night’s misunderstanding is forgotten and we can start over. I truly enjoy your company.”
Haldir was red from face to feet. He started to rise, then sat back down quickly, then moved to the far end of the tub and sat stiffly with his hands in front of him. “To tell you the truth I had a miserable night,” Haldir said. “I kept turning over in my mind what I might have done to cause you to… do what you did, and coming up blank. However, I am willing to overlook your indiscretion if it is not repeated.”
“You need think no more on it,” Legolas said. “I apologize for misjudging the situation, but in my defense I want you to know that such overtures are not a cause for unease in the Greenwood. Many of our warriors have such relationships and have bonded.”
“That cannot be!” Haldir asserted, “The Valar have forbidden it.”
“If they have, none have ever come to the Greenwood to tell us so.” Legolas gave him a teasing grin but Haldir scowled back, unamused.
“But we know from their example, and we know from the awakening of the first Elves that the Valar favor the union of male and female. What you suggest is unnatural.”
“We are part of nature, are we not? We were given complex minds and emotions, why would it be unnatural to act on them? In the Greenwood we believe that love is a blessing from the Valar, whatever form it may take.”
Haldir was silent for a long time. He fidgeted nervously for a moment before lowering his head. “I spoke to Lord Celeborn this morning. I told him what happened and how I had reacted.”
He paused for so long that Legolas was moved to ask, “What did he say?”
“He said that I had given so much to him and to our people I deserve to be happy, especially with myself. He also said, just as you, that the Valar bless our love for one another in all forms.”
“But you do not believe it.”
Haldir slid beneath the water without reply. When he came up the water running down his cheeks might have been tears. “It is not our way,” he said simply.
“I understand,” Legolas said. “We need not discuss it further. I will be leaving for Ithilien soon, sooner if it pleases you.”
He moved to get out of the bath but Haldir called “Wait!” so loudly that Legolas was startled. He turned around to find Haldir standing before him, gazing upon him with a kind of tortured irresolution. Haldir’s eyes were large and luminous and pale blue like the icy peaks of the Misty Mountains, framed by long silver lashes. Legolas sucked in an involuntary breath. He could not look away.
The tension in the air grew as they gazed upon each other, until it became an almost palpable thing between them. Haldir raised his hand slowly, hesitantly, as though fearing to break the spell. Legolas held perfectly still, knowing this was not an easy thing for Haldir but throbbing with need, willing him to make contact.
Haldir did. His hand suddenly ascended swiftly and with purpose, his fingers sliding behind Legolas’s neck, settling upon his nape and pulling him into a kiss. This time there was no reluctance but rather a tender reticence followed by a deepening desire as hard nipples and phalluses brushed tantalizingly against each other. Legolas encircled Haldir’s waist, pressing their hips together while Haldir cupped Legolas’s buttock, giving it a possessive squeeze. Legolas broke the kiss and moved down to nip and suck lightly on Haldir’s neck while he played his fingers over the tips of Haldir’s ears.
A groan of pleasure and the grinding of Haldir’s arousal against his own rewarded him. Haldir clung to his shoulder to steady himself, then to the prince’s surprise he lowered himself to the tub’s ledge and began, with little skill but much enthusiasm, to lick Legolas’s arousal. Legolas gasped, one hand on Haldir’s shoulder and the other catching up the hair behind his ear, cradling his head in the palm of his rough hand. Haldir was encouraged by the reaction and flicked his tongue over the exposed tip, sending a shudder of delight through Legolas.
Looking up into the prince’s bemused, half-lidded eyes, Haldir gave him a slightly wanton grin and took him into his mouth, closing his lips to create a little suction, his tongue undulating along the underside of Legolas’s penis. Legolas nearly lost it right then, biting his lip and gripping Haldir’s shoulder in an effort to bring himself under control. But Haldir would not be denied so easily and increased his efforts, taking Legolas in as far as he could and curling his tongue to tickle the underside of his prize.
“Haldir, I’m going to. . .” Legolas warned, spilling himself with a strangled moan before he could finish his sentence, but Haldir did stop even then, continuing his assault until Legolas had given all that was in him to give. He then pulled Legolas onto his lap and Legolas straddled him, settling gratefully upon Haldir’s knees, embracing him and resting his head on his shoulder while he recovered.
“How about that song now?” Haldir breathed teasingly into his ear. “About shooting down the Nazgûl with my arrow.”
Legolas chuckled against Haldir’s neck. “There is so much more I want to do with your arrow.”
At last Legolas raised his head and looked into Haldir’s eyes. He stroked Haldir’s silver hair and lightly fondled the tips of his ears. “Why did you do that?” he asked gently. “I thought to pleasure you.”
Haldir’s demeanor startled and pleased Legolas. He looked. . . unafraid, emboldened. “I have always been curious as to what it would feel like, I dreamed of what it would feel like down to the last detail.” He paused and lowered his eyes “And you are very beautiful, Legolas.”
Legolas kissed him deeply, and his time when Haldir flushed it was with the heat rising from his loins. When they parted, Legolas gave him an evocative smile and slid down beneath the water. . .
After their unanticipated, mutually gratifying tryst, Legolas remained another seven weeks in Lothlórien. When he departed for Ithilien he was accompanied by Haldir, the Sinda he had met his first day and his wife, four Silvan men and a Silvan woman widowed by the war.
In Ithilien Legolas and Haldir spent many happy years, but then the time came when Celeborn moved to Imladris and Haldir knew the days of his lord upon the shores of Middle-earth were growing short. Legolas, in constant torment from the sea longing, spent so much time fighting his melancholy that he had little of himself left for Haldir. The strain had been building for some time, but when the day came that Haldir told Legolas he was leaving for Imladris to serve Celeborn until such time his lord would sail, Legolas was taken off-guard. He was not heartbroken, however, for he realized his relationship with Haldir was like a candle flame that burned hot but failed to penetrate deep shadow. They were good together and their affection was strong, but in their hearts they knew they were not meant to be.
Legolas offered to accompany Haldir to Imladris, restless and thinking a visit to the inland waters of the Bruinen and the rainbow valley would give him some relief. Haldir said he would appreciate the company. They made love with a final, bittersweet tenderness their last night in Ithilien, falling asleep in each other’s arms. Haldir kissed Legolas awake and gave him a fond smile that Legolas returned with warmth. They dressed together in a comfortable silence then stopped by the kitchen to grab a quick breakfast of honeyed rolls and blackberry juice before readying their mounts for the journey.
The snap of autumn was in the air and the leaves of Lothlórien were aflame with the golden mellyrn, red oak, and orange beech leaves in profusion on the trees and the ground. Haldir had wanted to see the Golden Wood one last time but the dying leaves and desolation of the mellyrn at the loss of their beloved Elves made him glum and sullen. They mutually decided to ride on through the wood without riding through Caras Galadhon. Haldir did not wish to see what had become of the Great Hall and the once bustling telain of his people, and Legolas felt his own spirit dampened by the emptiness of the wood.
The trees they passed sang them a wistful farewell and in response Legolas raised his voice in song, a haunting Silvan melody of love and loss he had learned in his love-struck youth. To his surprise, Haldir joined in with his rich tenor for a few verses but then stopped suddenly and urged his horse a little ahead. Legolas gave him his distance and cut the song short. He paused for a moment and placed his hand on the trunk of an ancient mallorn sending it a message of gratitude and encouragement. He felt a quickening of its fading spirit that lightened his own heart a bit. Would the trees in Aman be as fair as the ones he knew, he wondered? Could a spirit that had never known danger or adversity be as hardy, as rich and as profound as the trees of Middle-earth?
He wondered again now, as he did from time to time when in a melancholy mood, if Galadriel had passed on a vision of his future or if she had ensorcelled him during his time in Lothlórien to take unto himself a portion of her own restlessness of spirit. Perhaps laying a part of her burden upon him was the only way she could win through to the end after the temptation of the One Ring had nearly broken her.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath of the chill autumn air. Perhaps his attempt to stave off the sea longing was only a fool’s errand. With one last look around at the forest, he set his horse to a trot to catch up with Haldir.
The rest of their journey was largely uneventful. They rode through East Lorien and were greeted by a small border guard who told them Orophin had moved on to Imladris four years hence, which lightened Haldir’s spirit greatly. Beyond the mountain pass they were forced to evade a band of orcs roaming the foothills. The creatures still came down from the Misty Mountains on occasion to harass Elves making their way to the Havens, though few were lost to their predations.
When they reached the Ford of the Bruinen they were surprised to see Glorfindel awaiting them, sitting astride a snow white stallion on the opposite side of the river. Legolas had forgotten the incredible beauty and power of the Elf Lord, his hair shining like spun gold, his eyes alight with strength and wisdom. He and Haldir nodded to him in deference and urged their horses through the shallows of the river.
“Mae govannen, Glorfindel,” Legolas said. “How fares Imladris?”
“All are well within the valley,” Glorfindel replied. “Welcome to you both. Your coming was expected.”
“I wondered that you were here to greet us,” Haldir said. “I should have known my lord would have foreseen our coming.”
“Indeed, he and Orophin have talked of little else these past weeks. He has missed you greatly Haldir.” He looked at Legolas. “And he sends his welcome to you as well, young Thranduilion.”
Legolas had not felt young in many a long year, not even with Haldir, who was not a great deal younger than his own father. He smiled at Glorfindel. “Lord Celeborn is most kind.”
They proceeded through the forest to the valley, Glorfindel leading the way. It was October again and Legolas thought he was destined to visit this place only at the end of things, a war, the fading of the Elves from Middle-earth. He was very young to have thought upon his last visit that the end of the quest would mark a renaissance of the land and its people. While he knew the time of the Elves was coming to an end, in his naivety he thought his own time upon these shores would be boundless and that war’s end would mean his own renewal. Now he wondered how his father, how Elrond and the Wise had managed to fight so long and so hard, how they had remained knowing that the outcome, either way, spelled their ultimate defeat.
The Last Homely House soon came into view and Legolas saw Lord Celeborn, Orophin and Elrond’s sons awaited them. Haldir let out a whoop of joy and sent his horse flying into the courtyard, leaping off to embrace Orophin before the animal had fully halted. Orophin hugged his brother tightly and clapped him on the shoulder when they let go, keeping his hand upon Haldir even when he turned to bow to Lord Celeborn as though afraid he might disappear if he let him go. Celeborn gave him a regal nod, then he too clasped Haldir to him in a fond embrace, all formality set aside at their jubilant reunion.
Elladan and Elrohir greeted Legolas with warm handshakes and introduced themselves to save Legolas wondering which was which. He marveled, as always, at how much they looked alike, how noble and kind they were. He remembered when he had come for Elrond’s council the times they had spent drinking and chatting in the Hall of Fire, memories that remained to this day some of Legolas’ warmest.
They went into the house and Orophin and Celeborn spirited Haldir away to do some catching up. The twins took the horses to the stables and Glorfindel showed Legolas to his rooms. Legolas had seen little of Glorfindel during the days of the council and so felt slightly awkward to be alone with him, but Glorfindel soon put him at ease, talking of news he had heard from the Greenwood and expressing a desire to visit Ithilien one day. “I have heard the land has become almost as beautiful as our valley thanks to your efforts,” Glorfindel said, “but I had no doubt your powers were as formidable as those of Thranduil. The Wood-elves have always been a remarkable people.”
Legolas was surprised and delighted at the compliment. “Thank you, my lord. Ithilien was always a fair land, it only needed healing.”
“We all must find healing in our own way. I am glad you have found yours where once the tower of the moon brightened the land. I know the war was difficult. . .” he trailed off. “Best not to speak of those times now, though, eh? It is fitting that we share these days of peace wholeheartedly, if only for a brief while.”
“I had hoped it would be longer,” Legolas said.
“I know. I too wish our time was not so swiftly drawing to its end, but that is the curse of the Elves to witness the fading. You will find there is a peaceful constancy in Aman that feeds the Elven spirit in a way these lands cannot.”
They arrived at the rooms and Legolas put down his pack and opened the balcony doors. His hair was ruffled by a chill, fresh breeze and he smiled happily. “Well, I am sure you would like to freshen up after your journey,” Glorfindel said.
“I would indeed, but may I ask you a question first?”
“Of course.”
“Do you have it, the sea longing?” Legolas asked, glancing out the window at the mountains beyond. Already he wished he was back in Ithilien where the merriment of his folk often dulled the constant, niggling ache in his heart. It seems he could not find respite anywhere these days.
“All Elves have it, but some feel it more keenly than others. I have seen both worlds and at times I prefer one or the other. For now I am content, but I know it will not always be so.”
Legolas nodded. “You are wise, my lord. Much wiser than I will be should I live to Ardhon-meth. Why are we doomed to fade?”
“Even the wise do not know the mind of Illúvatar,” Glorfindel said. “But it is a good fate, I think, to have the time to see the plan grow and evolve. Even the pain can be a blessing at times.”
“Perhaps I am too young after all. I do not see how it can be so,” Legolas said.
“I believe in time you will,” Glorfindel replied, and took his leave.
Legolas called for a bath and the servants had one drawn within minutes. The hot water felt so good to his tired muscles, and he found himself half hoping Haldir would find an excuse to join him. After he had bathed and dressed, he spent the rest of the afternoon wandering the gardens and gazing upon the big waterfall south of the Last Homely House.
He listened to the roar of the cataract and the wind sighing in the trees, watched songbirds flit through the blue sky, breathed deeply the scent of the many late blooming flowers that grew right up to the tree line of the forest. Elrohir found him in his wanderings and the two fell into an easy conversation about their travels, sharing messages they had gathered over the intervening years from former members of the Fellowship. Rosie was pregnant again it seemed, and Aragorn had recently returned to Minas Tirith from a journey to the northern part of the kingdom. There was no ill news this day and Legolas and Elrohir had a merry time together.
The day waned and they went in to supper then moved on to the Hall of fire for the evening’s festivities. Legolas noted that the hall had changed little from his last visit, except that Elrond’s chair sat empty, which gave him a twinge of sadness. Yet he was heartened to find Lindir there, and as cheerful as ever, tuning his harp while he chatted in an animated fashion with a group that included Haldir, Orophin, and a pretty silver haired maiden who was hanging on his every word.
Legolas had just settled in with the twins, a glass of wine in his hand, when Glorfindel arrived. His heart raced and he nearly dropped his glass to see the figure Glorfindel cut in his claret tunic with gold piping at the sleeves and neck and a pair of deep brown leather pants that hugged his legs like a second skin. His golden hair hung loose and he wore a leather headband the same color as his pants that looked as if it had been woven from the brown fall leaves carpeting the forest beyond the house. Stalking along at his side was a spotted cat about the size of the wildcats that roamed the Greenwood, but sleeker, gray, with a spotted coat, striped face, and ringed tail. Legolas had never seen its like before, and the effect of Elf and beast striding in together with perfectly synchronized feline grace was a vision Legolas would not soon forget.
Glorfindel took a seat next to Legolas and the cat sat on its haunches and looked up at him, its eyes following his every move. Legolas was forced to take a sip of wine to moisten his suddenly dry throat before asking Glorfindel about his pet.
“It was a gift from a man of Harad whose life I spared in the last battles. He was a chieftain and when he returned home he had an emissary send me this cat as a mark of gratitude and respect. I must admit I’ve grown quite fond of him,” Glorfindel said, reaching down to stroke the cat’s ears and receiving a loud purr in response. “He is an agreeable and docile companion, though as you know a wild beast is never truly docile. There is always the potential for danger that lurks beneath the surface. I think that is one of the attractions of taming them.”
“May I?” Legolas asked with a nod at the cat.
“Certainly. I do not think he will bite, but go slow just in case. He is skittish around new people.”
Legolas reached out his hand and the cat sniffed it curiously, then pushed his head into Legolas’s palm and purred happily. Its fur was soft and warm, and Legolas imagined how agreeable a cold winter’s day would be with a cat like this lying by one’s side.
“It seems you have a way with him,” Glorfindel said with a touch of wonder. “I have never seen him take to anyone so quickly, except perhaps Elrohir. Mifon can certainly tell the twins apart. He gave Elladan quite a nasty scratch when he first arrived.
Elladan chuckled. “I think he was just a bit stressed from the journey here. We have been fast friends since, have we not Mifon?” he said to the cat, whose eyes gleamed at him like he had just sighted a tasty rabbit.
Haldir and Orophin came over to join them and Haldir too expressed interest in the cat. He had no desire to touch it, however, due to a bad experience with a great cat during one of his reconnaissance journeys into Harad before the war.
Suddenly the room went silent as Lindir took the stage and struck a dramatic chord on his harp. He paused, then in operatic tones sang, “Tra la la ally, come back to the valley. . .” A chorus of laughter, groans, and good-natured shouts of “boo!” burst from the crowd and Elrohir turned bright red and sank down in his chair.
“Thanks for that, Lindir,” Elladan said with mock indignation. “and in front of guests too. Oh, very nice!”
“What is this?” Legolas asked with a chuckle as Elrohir put a hand over his eyes and shook his head.
“Elrohir made up a little song when he was a child,” Glorfindel explained. “As I understand it, the March-wardens thought it would be amusing to sing it to unwary travelers as a jest upon the Dwarves opinion of Elves. It was quite popular for a time but fell by the wayside as these things do, though I’m afraid poor Elrohir has never quite lived it down.”
“That is the problem with Lindir,” Elrohir muttered, “long on memory, short on subtlety.”
“I find it a charming tune,” Haldir put in, “though the lyrics need a bit of work.”
“I was eight years old!” Elrohir protested with a wan smile. “How long must I be reminded I was not cut out to be a bard?”
“Do not worry,” Haldir said, squeezing Elrohir’s shoulder. “It is better than Legolas’s Nazgûl song.” He raised a cocky eyebrow at Legolas, who laughed until the tears streamed from his eyes.
Legolas enjoyed himself greatly that evening. The laughter, the music, the tales and wine reminded him of the gaiety of his father’s halls during the harvest feast. There was no shadow here, no feeling of the doom of fading, and it revitalized his spirit. When the evening wound down and people began to make their way back to their rooms, Legolas felt he could have stayed until dawn. In the end, only he and Glorfindel remained in the hall. Legolas sat engrossed in Glorfindel’s tales of the elder days, the spotted cat lying draped over his lap.
“And that is when I sailed back to Middle-earth at the behest of Manwë,” Glorfindel concluded with a yawn.
“Forgive me for keeping you so long,” Legolas said. “I quite lost track of time, and you are a most fascinating person, if you will forgive my boldness.”
“You are most kind, Legolas. It is pleasant to have someone with whom to share the old tales once more. Only Celeborn remembers those times now, though his experiences were quite different.”
“I regret that I did not seek you out during the days of the Council and get to know you better. I must admit I was a bit in awe when I first met you back then,” Legolas said as they made their way to their rooms.
Glorfindel gave him a smile that made Legolas’s knees go weak. “You are no longer awestruck then?”
“I am, my lord,” Legolas said somewhat breathlessly, “though in another way than when last we met.”
Glorfindel raised an eyebrow and smiled knowingly. “I must confess a certain curiosity where you are concerned as well.”
Legolas was astonished. “Curious about me? In what way?”
“I know of your relationship with Haldir. Well, your former relationship, of course. You must know it to be quite unusual.”
“And you disapprove?”
“On the contrary, I find it intriguing for I have the same. . . appetites myself, though you might perhaps find my own proclivities disconcerting.”
Legolas recognized the look in Glorfindel’s eyes. He was not sure where the conversation was heading but he was not ready to back off just yet. It might be a bad idea, he knew nothing about Glorfindel really, but he was definitely attracted to him and had never been afraid to take a risk. Looking into Glorfindel’s eyes he found himself suddenly burning with the desire to know what Glorfindel wanted from him.
“In what way?” Legolas asked.
Glorfindel gave Legolas an imperious smile. “We can discuss it tomorrow night if you are truly interested,” Glorfindel said. “For the moment, suffice it to say my appreciation is for a man of great discipline and humility, things perhaps lacking in a coddled prince such as yourself.”
Legolas bristled in anger at these words. “How dare you charge me thus! You know nothing of the hardships the Greenwood has faced and of the role I have played since my youth in the safety and strength of our realm. We may be an isolated people but we are not simple or craven, and I have been anything but coddled. Why, I was leading patrols at the age of twenty-five, one of the youngest in the Greenwood to earn a command. . .”
Glorfindel held up a staying hand. “It seems you have a temper, young Thranduilion. Are you able to channel this anger, to use it when faced with hardships to strengthen your inner resolve?”
“Of course I am,” Legolas shot back. “A warrior without self-control is a poor warrior indeed.”
“Exactly my point,” Glorfindel said. “So you have discipline then, but what about humility? You can lead patrols but can you submit to the authority of another?”
“I believe my days with the Fellowship, following Aragorn, should be proof enough of that,” Legolas retorted. He felt an almost overwhelming compulsion to convince Glorfindel of his worth, though he did not know why. He had not had to prove his mettle since he was very young.
Glorfindel gave him a smile full of seductive promise. “You have persuaded me, Legolas. I believe you, but if I you are to understand me and my desires, you must first do something for me, as a demonstration of your self-restraint.”
The heat of Legolas’s former anger had fueled a fiery excitement in him. He wanted nothing more than to kick open Glorfindel’s door and drag him into the bedroom. But though Glorfindel was obviously interested he showed no indication of taking things further, which Legolas found perplexing and a little frustrating.
“What do you have in mind?” he asked, practicing his self-control by not tearing open Glorfindel’s tunic with his teeth.
In response, Glorfindel seized the lacings of Legolas’s leggings and untied them, pulling them free. He slid his hand inside and Legolas hardened eagerly to the touch of those strong, warm fingers. He looked around the corridor nervously, fearing they might be discovered. He reached for Glorfindel’s hand but Glorfindel used his other hand to catch Legolas’s wrist and shook his head.
“Ah, ah, ah, self-control,” Glorfindel reminded him.
“But someone might. . .” Legolas’s words were lost in the moan he bit back as Glorfindel’s hand slid lower to gently squeeze his balls.
“That is what makes it exciting,” Glorfindel rasped. He pulled Legolas’s leggings down to mid-thigh, exposing him fully, then took the lacing he had taken from the leggings and tied it snugly around Legolas’s balls and the base of his penis. When he had finished he resumed his stroking assault until Legolas felt his knees grow weak and grabbed the door handle of Glorfindel’s rooms to steady himself. Legolas’s excitement built rapidly, but though he felt his release was imminent he was unable to reach completion. The lacings cut into him almost painfully but he had never felt his need so keenly, never been so aware of every sensation as he was at this moment.
Glorfindel released him, pulling Legolas’s leggings back up over his bound, straining arousal and looked at him with eyes like a predator stalking prey. Legolas stared back at him like that self-same mesmerized prey, his breath coming in short, heavy gasps.
“An exercise in self-restraint, Legolas,” Glorfindel said. “Go to your chambers and remove the lacing but do not touch yourself until you come to my rooms tomorrow night. If you do, I will not touch you the rest of your stay, but if you have the discipline to do as I command, I will show you an experience the like of which you have not dreamed.”
He entered his rooms and shut the door, leaving Legolas standing in the hall with his mouth agape, his need throbbing between his shaking legs.
Legolas stumbled to his rooms, keeping an apprehensive lookout for any late night denizens of the house that might be roaming the halls. He fell through the door and shut it quickly, pulling down his leggings and untying the lacing with frantic fingers. The sudden unrestricted blood flow nearly undid him and he fell to his knees, his hand hovering dangerously over his arousal. He bit his lip and pounded his fist on the floor. He could do it. There is no way Glorfindel would know that he had. Or would he?
‘Coddled prince’. The words were accompanied in his mind’s eye by the challenging look in Glorfindel’s eyes. He expected his anger to cool his desire but the thought of Glorfindel only amplified it. Legolas could not remember ever wanting anyone with the passion Glorfindel inspired in him. The Elf lord had promised him more. An experience he had never dreamed of. He had to know.
Legolas scrambled out of his clothing and grabbed the pitcher next to washing up basin. He threw open the balcony doors and poured the full pitcher down his front just as a blast of cold night air hit him. He heaved a sigh of relief and leaned on the balcony railing, lowering his head and taking a deep shuddering breath.
The next day Legolas was so distracted he lost an archery contest to Elladan and Haldir, which had never happened to him before, he walked into the stable door and bumped his head craning his neck for a sight of who he thought was Glorfindel in the courtyard, but who turned out to be Lindir instead, and he mixed up the twins so often they started calling each other by their own names. And all the while Glorfindel was nowhere to be found. Legolas was growing increasingly worried that Glorfindel might have been toying with him with no intention of following through.
As the first stars began to twinkle in the sky above, Legolas was taking an evening stroll, reluctant to leave the beauty of the twilit garden and trying to put his concerns from his mind, when Glorfindel and Mifon appeared from the forest. The cat trotted up to Legolas and began rubbing against his leg, a deep purr rising from his throat.
Legolas reached down to scratch the cat’s ears. When he looked up, Glorfindel was staring at him with an almost feline intent. “My rooms, after supper,” he said and turned on his heel, striding away as Mifon went to catch up.
Legolas’s heart thumped madly and the almost instant erection straining at the laces of his leggings matched it pulse for pulse.
The dining table that evening was laden with a scrumptious repast of marinated pork, steamed vegetables and wild rice served with a robust red wine but Legolas ate little. Not only was his stomach in knots of anticipation but he knew from his previous night’s experience he did not want to be overfed for whatever diversions Glorfindel might have planned.
He masked his lack of appetite by throwing himself into the conversation, laughing at the twin’s jokes and telling stories of his travels with Gimli. As the others began to move to the Hall of Fire, Legolas begged off saying he was weary and wanted to turn in early. Elrohir looked especially disappointed by the news but wrung a promise from Legolas to go riding upon the morrow. His hand lingered upon Legolas’s arm for a few seconds longer and he looked back over his shoulder as he left, giving Legolas a bright smile.
“Early tomorrow,” Elrohir said.
“I will meet you at the stables,” Legolas agreed with a wave and smile in return.
To Legolas’s surprise, Glorfindel said he would join the others in the Hall shortly. He clapped Legolas on the shoulder and wished him good night, lowering his voice so only Legolas could hear. “Wait for me in my rooms.” The gleam in his eyes and the weight of his hand upon Legolas’s shoulder sent an electric thrill through him.
Glorfindel said to his cat, “Would you like to keep Legolas company this evening, Mifon?” The cat’s eyes moved from Glorfindel to Legolas and then he went and stood by Legolas’s side. “You two have fun,” Glorfindel said, and went to join the others.
Despite his excitement, Legolas was also annoyed at Glorfindel’s latest show of high handedness. Was this another exercise in discipline he wondered? At any rate, he had not been able to get Glorfindel out of his mind since the previous night and the thought of pleasures to come sent him down the corridor to Glorfindel’s rooms at a swift stride with Mifon slinking along beside him.
Without hesitation he entered Glorfindel’s chambers and pulled up in shock. The outer sitting room he entered was. . . perfectly normal. Mifon wandered through the open door into the bedroom while Legolas took in the particulars of Glorfindel’s home.
He was not sure what he had expected to see, other than something more exotic or lavish. The room was comfortable and austere, with a couple of deep blue high-backed chairs beside the fireplace with a low table sitting on a rug of Vanyarian design between them. The walls contained only one picture, and that over the mantel. It was a portrait of a dark haired man with a serious expression, wearing a silver helm. There was a writing desk on the back wall next to a large bookshelf filled with books with old and new bindings. There was a map table as well made of some dark hardwood with two matching chairs. On the wall opposite the door was a rack that held Glorfindel’s armor and sword. Legolas went over for a closer look at the armor. There was a dent on one shoulder that had been pounded out and deep scratch on the breastplate over the heart. Legolas thought back to the battle of Helm’s Deep and the horror of that night made is heart clench. What Glorfindel had faced in his life defied his imagination.
He debated whether to look in the bedroom but finally decided that he would probably be seeing it soon anyway. He entered to find Mifon lying on the bed sleeping with his head on his paws. Legolas saw that the bedroom was even more austere than the sitting room with the bed and a small bedside table the only furniture. The only ornamentation was a thick throw rug with a floral design of blue and red, and scarlet curtains embroidered in gold covering the closed balcony doors.
Legolas saw a piece of parchment fastened to one of the bed posts. From where he stood in the doorway, he could see it had his name at the top. He went over and read it, it said:
“Legolas, Strip. Fold your clothes and leave them on the table in the sitting room then kneel on the rug in here facing the door and wait for me. G –“
He thought it over. It seemed ridiculous on the face of it, waiting naked on the rug of Glorfindel’s bedroom like some sort of trained pet. And yet there was also something deliciously enticing about the idea of making himself so eminently vulnerable to someone with Glorfindel’s power. He glanced at Mifon sleeping on the bed and a smile tugged at his lips. A trained pet.
With trembling hands he undressed, placing his folded clothes on one of the chairs in the sitting room and returning to the bedroom as instructed. As he padded into the room, Mifon raised his head and yawned, showing his sharp teeth. The cat’s yellow-green eyes fell upon him and it licked its lips. Legolas decided Glorfindel must have stolen his wits for him to be standing, or kneeling, naked in a room with a wild beast.
The cat laid its head back down on its paws, taking no more notice of him, much to Legolas’s relief. He waited, perfectly still for a moment, then took a deep breath and knelt on the rug. His back was perfectly straight and his eyes were on the door, waiting for Glorfindel to appear. As the minutes ticked by, the sense of expectation tingling in Legolas’s belly migrated to his loins and he began to grow hard. He shifted uncomfortably, thoughts of Glorfindel’s eyes and radiant smile making his situation more acute.
He heard the sound of the door open and for a terrible moment he thought of how this would look if it was a servant coming to turn down Glorfindel’s bed or make up a fire. His erection flagged, only to intensify instantly when Glorfindel appeared in the doorway.
Glorfindel graced him with a smug smile that pierced Legolas like an arrow. Legolas knew Glorfindel had him right where he wanted him but instead of being affronted, he reveled in it.
“You have done well, my beautiful pet,” Glorfindel said, and Legolas, to his own amazement, blushed like a maiden at the praise.
Glorfindel entered the room and gazed upon Legolas for a long moment, his eyes raking him, taking in every inch. Legolas looked at him boldly a first but under the scrutiny of Glorfindel’s gimlet eyed gaze he slowly began to lower his own until he was staring at a spot on the floor in front of him. He saw Glorfindel’s feet approach but he still started slightly when a hand touched his hair. On impulse, he pushed the crown of his head into Glorfindel’s palm just as Mifon might do.
“Yes, my pet,” Glorfindel laughed softly, “what a beautiful little beast you are.” Glorfindel squatted behind him and caressed Legolas’s shoulders with gentle fingers. He moved aside the curtain of Legolas’s hair and brushed his lips over his neck. “But are you a docile little kitty or a feral cat toying with his prey before the kill?”
Legolas felt Glorfindel’s hands slide down his arms, his lips linger in a gentle caress upon his neck. A quick nip made him gasp, a wet tongue gliding along the pointed tip of his ear made him moan. He leaned back, resting his head on Glorfindel’s shoulder a gravely purr coming from deep in his throat. A thumb pressed between his parted lips and he sucked it briefly before it was removed. A fingernail scraped his nipple, the wet pad of a thumb soothed the sting.
Legolas was so lost in the sensations buffeting him he barely noticed when Glorfindel urged one of his wrists behind him, then the other. A band of leather encircled his wrist, closed around it like a bracer, then the same with the other. He heard the tinkle of metal. Coming fully alert he tried to move his arms to find they had been bound in leather cuffs linked by a short chain. He started to struggle but Glorfindel pulled him suddenly against his chest, pinning Legolas’s arms against his body.
“What are you doing?” Legolas cried. “Let me go!”
“Listen to me, Legolas,” Glorfindel said commandingly. “I will release you if that is what you want, but first hear me out.”
“Why are you doing this?” Legolas panted. “I do not understand.”
Glorfindel loosened his grip, stroking Legolas’s heaving chest. “This is part of what I promised to show you, the pleasures of submitting yourself to another. The cuffs can make it easier for someone the first time, especially those with strong wills. You will be surprised how freeing it can be, to just be and do, not to think or act.”
“But why would anyone want to be restrained?” Legolas asked, the concept confusing him.
“Because it is freeing to give up one’s autonomy. Every moment of our lives we are faced with decisions, with choices. In this you allow another to make those decisions and choices for you.”
Legolas considered this. “So the idea is to put oneself at the mercy of another? To allow the other person to dominate the action so that one may. . .?”
“Reach a state of transcendence,” Glorfindel finished. He took Legolas’s arousal in hand and stroked it, ending with a gentle squeeze of the head. “Or just enjoy a very intense experience.”
Legolas gasped as a gush of prerelease issued from his straining arousal. “But what does the person dominating the action get out of it?” he panted.
“Other than the obvious,” Glorfindel said, tracking Legolas’s juices up his glistening belly to tease it into his nipples, “to have the complete and utter trust of another person is a very transcendent experience as well. Do you trust me, Legolas?”
Legolas pulled at the cuffs, testing their strength. They felt like he might be able to break them if he really needed to. He had never been with a partner he did not trust, and he decided Glorfindel was no exception. “I do,” he said at last.
Glorfindel took Legolas’s chin between two fingers and turned his head, kissing his lips softly. “Then let us proceed.”
That night Legolas experienced things he could not have imagined in his strangest dreams: pain, pleasure, and finally the transcendence Glorfindel had promised. Glorfindel took him into a closet beyond his bedchamber that was filled with implements of pain and pleasure. Legolas’s eyes grew wide and he tried to back up, but Glorfindel caught him and soothed him, his deep voice lulling Legolas into a state of hypnotic bliss. Glorfindel went slowly, introducing Legolas to this device or that, giving him a special word to use when anything became too painful or uncomfortable.
Legolas delighted in each new sensation, wanting to please Glorfindel, and in doing so reaching an ecstatic high without equal. In the end, when Glorfindel finally took him, Legolas’s body sang beneath his touch like a bowstring just released.
Glorfindel removed the cuffs and worked healing oil into the welts on Legolas’s skin. He then pulled him into his arms and Legolas snuggled, exhausted but well pleasured, into Glorfindel’s broad chest. As he was drifting off to sleep, Legolas felt Mifon, jump up on the bed and settle in against his back. He thought to himself that there were few times in his life he had felt so utterly relaxed and content.
The next morning, Legolas got up early to meet Elrohir at the stables as he had promised, his body sore but his spirit buoyant. Elrohir was delighted to see him and embraced him happily. He had already saddled Legolas’s horse and the two mounted up at the same time. Legolas grimaced as his tender backside settled upon the saddle and Elrohir gave him a look of concern.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
Legolas blushed so deeply Elrohir caught on at once. “So that is why Glorfindel left the hall early last night.” He smiled wickedly. “I would never have thought you the type to engage in such activities.”
“To tell you the truth, neither did I,” Legolas admitted. “I did not know such. . . variety existed before I left the Greenwood.”
“Would it surprise you to know that most of those in the other Elven realms look askance at the male relationships in the Greenwood? Of course I do not subscribe to this attitude myself,” Elrohir added quickly.
“I have heard such talk. I consider it to be the result of misinformation and ignorance only,” Legolas said. “I do not blame those who have not lived there for having false ideas. I suppose one must live within a culture to fully understand it. I thought I was prepared for what I would find in the greater world because I had read so many of my father’s scrolls and books, but I found things to be very different from what I expected.”
“Different is not all together unpleasant,” Elrohir said.
Legolas beamed at him. “And sometimes it is the unexpected guest who proves the best company.”
~***~
The sun had moved past its zenith when Legolas was shaken out of his memories by the two young Elves coming back across the meadow. The one wearing the nosegay now wore nothing else and was carrying his clothing in his arms, grinning at his companion with unabashed adoration. His companion wore only a pair of leggings, unlaced. He carried his partner’s and his own boots slung over one of his shoulders, his other arm was around the waist of his swain and he was smiling back at him. They wandered into the trees on his side of the meadow and disappeared from sight. Legolas watched them with a smile of his own. It was glorious to be young and in love. Or in love at all.
He was startled when a voice next to his ear said, “What are you thinking about, Legolas? We must be going or we will never make Lothlórien by nightfall.”
Legolas looked up into Elrohir’s exquisite grey eyes. “I was just reminiscing,” he said with a loving gleam in his eye. “Yes, it is time to go, but before we leave the wood I must speak to the local council.”