Title & Chapter Number: The Weeping of the Trees (Part 1 of the 'Pilgrim' story arc) 6/12
Author(s): - Author's Index
Website: The Woodland Chronicles
Fandom: Tolkien
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Middle-earth and all its inhabitants are Tolkien's, not mine. I'd risk bankruptcy to own Legolas, though. How much would he cost me? Would they give me Haldir as a bonus? Or at least for a reduced price... A girl can dream, right?
Warnings: Incest! Don't like it? Don't read it! Simple. Also: consensual bondage, heavy sap, and angst.
Betas: Jilly! You rock! Yes, you do!
Cast: Elladan/Elrohir, slightly Legolas/Thranduil, Elladan/Elrohir/OC, Elladan/Elrohir/Thranduil implied. Oh, and Haldir's there, too. :-)
Timeline: Third Age, approx. 440 years prior to the Fellowship.
Spoilers: Nope, I don't think so.
Summary: Elladan and Elrohir travel to King Thranduil's court in Mirkwood to attend the feast celebrating Legolas's coming of age. Not only will this event change the young Prince's life forever, but that of several other Elves as well.
Notes: Ion-nîn means 'my son'. The 'how much pumping'-joke comes from 'Tomorrow Never Dies', the Bond-movie of course. Anyriand is not completely a figment of my imagination; he actually appears briefly in some of the cut scenes from FotR, to be seen on the Extended DVD. Find out more about him on www.theargonath.cc/characters/anyriand/anyriand.html. I needed a beautiful Elf from Lórien and he fitted the description. :-)
Dedicated to Elisa and Jilly. You have both inspired me, in your own way. Thanks!
Chapter 6 - His Father's Son
Mirkwood, July 2580, T.A.
Following ancient tradition, the celebration was to begin with a festive banquet. Then the official ceremony would take place, followed by a ball. Also according to tradition, the young prince would open the ball by dancing with a lady of his choosing, then attend the feast for another hour or so before retreating to his chambers - preferrably in the company of someone -and leaving the guests to party by themselves.
The room where the banquet was to take place, was of a size that made it quite cosy and intimate as a dining room, but after the removal of tables and chairs it would make a fine, spacious ball room. The sun was setting outside, bathing the room in a warm, honey-gold light, and guests had begun to gather for the banquet. Elladan and Elrohir were there, going around shaking hands and engaging in conversation here and there like they'd seen their father do countless times. The atmosphere among the guests was friendly and cheerful. Everyone had enjoyed the warm welcome in Mirkwood and was in joyful anticipation of this evening; Mirkwood was famous for its exquisite dishes and wines, and Thranduil was an excellent host. A celebration in his palace was always a success.
Thranduil and Legolas would make their appearance once everyone had arrived and was seated. The tables had been arranged in a giant rectangle, and Thranduil would sit at the head with Legolas at his right hand and the chairman of the Council at his left. The twins hadn't seen father and son for hours and suspected that both had been occupied with preparing themselves for the event.
This was true. Legolas had long, rather tedious hours behind him of standing still as the tailors moved around him to make final adjustments to his robe; raising or lowering his arms when it was asked of him. Then, sitting still in a chair as a maidservant combed and braided his hair with great care. He also had a last - and rather pointless - conversation with the master of ceremonies, who found it necessary to go through all the planned events with him one final time. Legolas smiled and nodded his way through the afternoon, patient as always, and secretly thankful that all this madness would finally be over in a couple of hours.
And then, when it was almost time for him to join the assembly in the dining room, a knock on the door and Thranduil entered the room, in full state and ready to make his glorious appearance downstairs. His powerful body clad in a velvet robe of a deep dark red, the gold embroideries simple but refined. Two single braids hung from both sides of his head, the rest of his hair streamed freely down his back in soft, thick waves of gold. A modest silver crown completed the picture.
"Adar," Legolas greeted him with a happy sigh.
"Ion-nîn," Thranduil said as he came to Legolas and took his son by the shoulders to look at him.
"I am almost ready," Legolas said.
"Yes..." Thranduil eyed the others present with a friendly gaze. "Would you please leave us for a moment?"
The servants and attendants bowed and left the room one by one, until Thranduil and Legolas were alone. Thranduil patted Legolas on the shoulders, then slowly slid his hands down his arms as he studied his son. "Look at you," he said proudly. "I'm suddenly the father of a grown son. I really meant not to say this, but it seems only yesterday that I carried you around on my arm. And..."
"Adar," Legolas warned with a smile.
"Will you not grant your old father his self-pity?" Thranduil asked, the corners of his mouth quirking up.
"Self-pity?" Legolas laughed. "Why, adar? I am still the same, only one day older than I was yesterday." He took Thranduil's strong hands in his own and kissed them. "Don't go all emotional on me, adar," he said, "I forbid it."
Thranduil chuckled. "You forbid it, my son? Very well... It is your day, your celebration. I will carry out your bidding and keep my fatherly speeches to myself."
Thranduil did not speak of it, but his thoughts were with his late wife this day more than any day since her death. She should have been here, he thought. She should have been here to see you like this. However he did not want to burden Legolas with these heavy thoughts. Instead he helped his son with the arrangement of his robe. It had been made especially for this occasion and was of almost the same cut as Thranduil's; meant to be worn only on special occasions. And that, Thranduil thought amusedly, was probably for the best. These long, intricately cut robes were meant to make the wearer look beautiful, to show his status, and were as such effective; but they were not meant to be comfortable.
Thranduil showed Legolas how to drape the heavy velvet over his arm, and brushed some stubborn flocks of dust away. "There," he said then, "all done." He eyed Legolas with pride. His son, an adult now. Dressed like a king in his velvets; they were green, the color of the forest, so fitting for the name Thranduil and the Queen had chosen for their firstborn. His hair: braided sunshine. Eyes like his mother's. "Time to shine, leafling," Thranduil said. "Are you ready?"
Legolas took a deep breath. "Yes," he said.
Thranduil smiled, cupped Legolas's chin with one hand. "You'll do fine," he said. After a lingering kiss on Legolas's forehead and an encouraging, fatherly tap against the cheek, Thranduil and Legolas swept out of the room.
~*~*~*~
A joyful anticipation was over the assembly in the dining room as all awaited the arrival of King and Prince. All were seated now, and the room was filled with murmur and occasional bursts of laughter. Servants had filled the glasses with one of Mirkwood's famous wines, and it was enjoyed, very much so.
And then finally, an Elf of the guard entered. He thrust his tall staff against the floor once, and everyone grew quiet, turning their faces to the door. "King Thranduil," the guard announced, "and the King's son, Prince Legolas."
The doors swung open and everyone rose in their seats as Thranduil appeared, followed by Legolas. Both were a sight to behold; long, flowing robes, Thranduil's dark red, Legolas's green. The whispering of royal velvet, golden hair catching the light of the setting sun. Elladan and Elrohir did not know where to look first, and judging by the faces around them, they weren't the only ones to have this dilemma. Elrohir leaned over to Elladan and whispered, "Be still my poor heart."
"Hush!" Elladan breathed. "Don't speak before the King does." But he never took his eyes off the royal pair as they strode gracefully to their seats. Thranduil eyeing the guests openly, meeting gazes and treating those present to one of his charming smiles. Legolas's eyes darted from one face to another, to his father's back and back to the guests again, one corner of his mouth quirked up in a timid half-smile. But his back was proudly straight and his step as graceful as his father's. A genuine smile broke through when he spotted some familiar faces among the strangers: Elves from Mirkwood, and Elladan and Elrohir, and Haldir on the other side of the room.
Before seating himself, Thranduil spoke words of welcome to the guests, thanking them for their presence and voicing his hope that all would have a pleasant evening. Legolas also spoke some welcoming words. Then, when he and Thranduil sat down, all followed their example, and servants came in with food. Trays laden with exquisite Mirkwood dishes, both warm and cold; cans of water, decanters with wine, baskets with bread...
Soon, all were enjoying the excellent food and drink, and merry conversation. Evening wore on in this manner; smiling lips everywhere, shining faces, flushed cheeks... Yes, the wine was truly as good as it was said to be. Mirkwood's royal house wasn't renowned for its vineyards and wine for nothing! Elves did not get drunk so easily, but a couple of glasses never failed to loosen the tongue of even the most close-lipped Elf. Elladan and Elrohir feasted on the meal and particularly enjoyed the red 2273, it had a hint of cranberry to it the twins found very palatable.
"I am in trouble," Elladan murmured to his brother. "This must be the best wine I ever tasted, and you know how a good wine always affects me." Suddenly a hand on Elrohir's knee under the table.
"El," Elrohir warned with a smile, "you are the oldest. Aren't *you* supposed to be the sensible one?"
"I'm tired of being sensible," Elladan replied, and his hand started to move slowly towards Elrohir's crotch.
"Apparently so. What is it with you Elladan? Ever since we've arrived in Mirkwood, you've been more... loose than you usually are. Is it because father's eyes are not on us?"
"That," Elladan said, "this wine; and... I don't know. Mirkwood is working on my loins somehow."
"Especially its ruler, perhaps?" Elrohir suggested, grinning evilly.
Both glanced at the head of the table, where Thranduil was engaged in a lively and apparently very amusing conversation. His handsome face adorned by a smile, long fingers playing with his wine goblet. "Yes," Elladan said, mesmerized by this sight, "I'd never thought I'd say this one day, but he awakens a desire in me."
"What kind of desire?"
Elladan's gaze met Elrohir's. "The desire to share him with you," he said under his breath.
Elrohir suddenly realized he was feeling very hot. Was it the food, the wine, the many candles that had been lit since darkness had fallen, Elladan's hand on his thigh or the mere thought of having the magnificent Mirkwood king in his and Elladan's bed; naked in all his golden glory, slick with sweat and surrendering to the passion? Probably a combination of all those things.
"Well," Elrohir said casually, taking a sip of his wine, "what have we found out thus far? Remember, El; this is not just some Elf. This is the Mirkwood King we are talking about. He is without doubt the most desired Elf in this room, and probably the most unattainable one."
"You inveterate pessimist!" Elladan poked him in the ribs. Then, softly, "That is exactly the reason why he's so desirable. Well, one of the reasons."
Elrohir gazed deeply into Elladan's eyes. "I'd almost start thinking this is but a game for you, El; a hunting game. Except that I know you better than that."
Elladan's face became serious. "No game, Ro," he said. "It is not my intention to seduce him and play with him for fun. If I have given you reason to doubt my motives, I apologize. But he is unlike anyone I have ever seen, and I can't help wondering what his lips would taste like."
"Probably as exquisite as his wine, or better," Elrohir said. "And not only the thought of tasting his lips is pleasurable."
"Indeed... I know not what our odds are, and of course, the heart of a widower needs gentle treatment, but if there's any chance that he will let us offer him some comfort, I will gladly have him."
"At least we found out that he has no lover..." Elrohir said pensively.
"Yes, that is what Legolas told us and he is the most reliable source. What we *don't* know, however, is whether he's ever had males in his bed. Either before or after his marriage... I didn't dare to ask Legolas."
"And even if you did, I'm not sure whether he would know. They are close, but would Thranduil be so open about these matters?"
"I'm not sure either... Do you think he's been celibate ever since the death of the Queen?"
"It's been 63 years... A long time, but it's not unheard-of. The death of the Queen was sudden and brutal, and she is obviously still sorely missed, understandably... It wouldn't surprise me if it were so."
Suddenly Elladan laughed. "Do you remember fancying the Prince?"
Elrohir gave a little smirk. "By Mandos, yes... Well, that was before I gazed into those two pools of innocence he calls his eyes."
"Yes... although he looks older tonight, don't you think?"
Both studied Legolas from the distance. "It's the braids, I think," Elrohir said. An Elf's braids could tell an observer much about that Elf's age, his status, his region of birth... Until now, the arrangement of Legolas's braids had been that of a youngster. Now, he wore the braids of an adult; it let more of his hair free, but pulled it back at the same time, revealing more of his face and his neck. Yes, it definitely made him look older. It emphasized the masculine lines of his angular cheekbones, and his jaw.
"Ro," Elladan said, "if Legolas asked you to bed him tonight, what would you do?"
"He will not do that," Elrohir said.
"No, but what if?"
Elrohir pondered this for a moment. Then laughed softly. "Many would call me insane, but I would not do it."
"You would not?"
"No. I'd feel flattered... but you know Legolas. He's such a romantic soul. It would not be fair to him, for my heart belongs to you. He needs to be with someone who can love him back."
Elladan smiled. "Yes, simple, meaningless pleasures are not meant for our Legolas. We see that, but I'm afraid that not everyone does."
"No. Isn't that strange? People, men and women alike, appreciate an experienced partner, the more experience the better; but somehow, the thought of laying with someone as unspoiled and untouched as Legolas, has great charms of its own."
"Being someone's first is always special," Elladan said. "It is always an intense experience; both very touching and very arousing. I cannot blame people for wanting to experience it with Legolas. He is exceptional, and I can imagine that laying with him will be exceptional, too."
"Do you think Legolas is happy?" Elrohir asked suddenly, serious.
"Happy?" Elladan was surprised. "As far as one can be, with a murdered mother... I've seen him dancing in the corridors, he sings to the trees, and laughter is to him what song is to a bird: a part of his nature. Do you think him unhappy?"
"Not necessarily unhappy..." Elrohir furrowed his brow. "Just... not sure of himself. He wields the bow like no other elfling I ever saw, but he blushes and stutters like a maid when you compliment him..."
"... Except when it's his father. Then he's beaming."
"He's intelligent and quick of wit, but he rarely shows it..."
"Except when his father is around."
"And he's very distant, physically. I wrapped my arm around his shoulder the other day, in an innocent, brotherly fashion... well, to say that he jumped out of his skin would be exaggeration, but it was close. I felt him freeze under my arm."
"But not with his father," Elladan completed. "Those two are hugging all the time."
"Legolas adores his father," Elrohir said, "and I understand... *we* had not only father to seek support by when mother left, we also had Arwen, and each other. Legolas has only the King. It is no wonder that they have grown so close. But Legolas seems to have so low an esteem of himself; it's really not necessary and I wonder what the reason is."
"Yes..." Elladan said thoughtfully. "It wouldn't hurt him to have just a bit more faith in himself. I've heard that an only child often has the idea that his parents expect him to be perfect, that he has to live up to certain standards and will be a failure if he does not succeed. And, sadly enough, a deceased mother is particularly hard to please. Perhaps that's what's ailing him. It could be an explanation. His mother is no longer here to praise him, be proud of him, hug him, and his father's compliments and embraces come closest to that. Perhaps that is why Thranduil's affection and satisfaction are so important to him."
"Yes," Elrohir said slowly, "who knows..."
"Do not worry too much about our young friend, Ro," Elladan said, patting his brother's shoulder reassuringly. "He will get there. I can feel it."
Elrohir smiled. "You are right. You know what they say: 'the timidest and smallest bird can sing the most heavenly tune of them all'. And I think that is our Legolas in a nutshell. Given time, he will find his path, and the Sun will light it for him by day, the Moon and the stars by night. And I don't think his path will lead to mediocrity."
"Let us drink to that," Elladan said and he raised his wine goblet. "Let us drink to Legolas..."
Those last words were heard by others. Word spread quickly, and within a matter of moments, the entire assembly was in the presumption that Elrond's sons were about to propose a toast. At least two hundred pairs of eyes suddenly were on the twins in expectation, and the room had gone awkwardly silent.
"Erm," Elladan said. Thranduil and Legolas were also looking at them, smiles on their faces. A soft explosion of laughter beside him. Apparently Elrohir found this very amusing. Curse him. Then, a poke in his ribs and Elladan shot from his chair, still holding his wine goblet. And then there was no longer a way back.
He cleared his throat nervously and overthought for a moment what he would say, but the silence was broken by a soft coughing sound from Elrohir, echoing him in jest. He looked down at his twin in annoyance, but soft chuckling around him told him that others appreciated the joke. Of course; leave it to Elrohir to entertain the crowd, Elladan will be his father's son and make everything right.
"My dear Elves gathered here," he began. "I will make it brief. Elrohir and I arrived here last week and were very warmly received by the King and the Prince, for which we are very thankful. It is the first time that we attend such an official gathering as representatives of Imladris without our father and he has begged us on his knees to behave like mature Elves..."
There was laughter again; it was an amusing image, the wise and revered Lord of Imladris in such a position.
"... Well, I can only say, we tried our best. Over the past few days, we spent quite some time with Prince Legolas, and he's become like a brother to us; something Elrohir is particularly thankful for, since he has always wanted to have a younger brother to bully, like I do him."
An annoyed little sound from Elrohir, and more chuckles. Elladan grinned devilishly at his twin before turning to the head of the table, where Legolas and his father were seated. "Legolas... as we told you before, our father would have loved to be here, but unfortunately he was unavailable, and he apologizes for that. But he asked us to warmly congratulate you on his behalf and that of the whole realm of Imladris, with your 200th begetting-day and your coming of age... and he also wanted us to emphasize that, well, that you're always welcome in Imladris, and the same goes for the King. Lord Elrond will gladly receive you as guests in the Last Homely House."
Thranduil nodded gracefully, and Legolas sent the twins a delighted smile.
"Legolas," Elladan continued, "if our father were here, he would probably give you heaps of good advice, but I will do no such thing. Firstly, because I am not my father; I lack his years and his wisdom, and so does Elrohir. Secondly, because I don't think you really need it. You are a very fine Elf already and you will only become finer, especially if you continue to resemble your father so much. Elrohir and I have seen much of Middle-earth, but I dare say that we've never felt so welcome anywhere before. When we get home, we will not forget to thank our father. If it weren't for him, we wouldn't be here, enjoying Thranduil's hospitality, his and Legolas's charming company, and this... absolutely magnificent wine!"
The assembly chuckled mischievously, and Thranduil's humble smile slowly changed into a grin. Elladan lifted his goblet and continued, as he tried to pay full attention to his speech and not be distracted by Thranduil's enticing appearance, "It is only fitting that I use this magnificent wine to give a toast on an Elf who is just as magnificent. Legolas, on behalf of Imladris, congratulations. You are a promise to Middle-earth."
The gathered Elves applauded approvingly, and then all drank to Legolas, following the twins' example. Legolas underwent it all with a smile. Elladan sat down again.
"Nice speech," Elrohir said. He then leaned over to Elladan's ear and said softly, "I love you."
Elladan looked at him in surprise, but Elrohir sat back again and lifted the wine carafe. "More wine?" he asked with a smile.
When all Elves had finished eating, it was time for a more official interlude. Servants cleaned the tables until all traces of dinner had vanished. The room went quiet as the chairman of the Council stood from his seat; this was not a moment for merriment and jokes, for it was time for Legolas to take his oath. A formality, true, but a formality rooted in ancient tradition going back generations. All Elves took an oath when coming of age, but with Legolas, more was involved.
The chairman of the Council, a silver-haired Elf called Belegor, was an experienced politician, several millennia Thranduil's senior. The green rim of his grey robe marked him as an influential politician at Thranduil's court. He had already served King Oropher before Thranduil came of age and had witnessed Thranduil take his oath long ago. He would lead the ceremony now.
Belegor invited the assembly to follow him, the King and Prince Legolas to the adjacent throne room. The real ceremony would take place there, while the dining room was prepared and transformed into a ball room, where the guests would return for music and dance once the ceremony was over. All rose then, waited for Thranduil and Legolas to depart with Belegor and other Mirkwood officials, then followed close behind in small, talking groups.
One of the Lórien Elves, as he passed by, threw Elladan a flirtatious smile. Judging by his looks, he was one of the youngest politicians of the Lórien delegation. Anyriand was his name, the twins remembered. Beautiful green eyes and honey-blond hair. A slender body clad in grey and white. Elladan grinned coyly at him, then, when the Elf was out of hearing range, looked at his brother.
"He fancies you," Elrohir said.
"Or you," Elladan said. "I bet he can't tell us apart."
"Interesting..." Elrohir said thoughtfully.
"What?" Elladan said suspiciously. "What are you up to, now? Don't we have enough on our hands already, with the King?"
"Hmm. I was just thinking..." Elrohir lowered his voice. "I've been observing those Lórien politicians a little. They are all quite old, and slightly aloof, as can be expected from Elves of the Golden Wood. But this one is younger, and more like us, not quite so distant."
"Yes?" Elladan said. "So what's your point?"
"The bonds between Lórien and Thranduil's realm have always been good. Perhaps this Elf can be of use to us... do you follow me?" Elrohir winked. "He may *know* things... If we play this well, and you know we can... If we pump him for information..."
"How much pumping do you think will be required?" Elladan asked, and he smirked.
Elladan's smirk found a twin on Elrohir's face. "I don't know! He's quite beautiful... How much would you be willing to give?"
"Give me another bottle of that wine," Elladan said, "and I'll even spread my legs for Erestor."
Elrohir chuckled evilly, but a hint of surprise was in his eyes. Surprise over this new brother of his. "Watch it, brother," he said, "now you're going too far!"
Both laughed, but then Elladan bent over to Elrohir's ear and said, "An old, familiar twin game, then?"
Elrohir nodded. "It has worked for us before... let's see what it can do for us this time, shall we?" Two pairs of grey eyes met, sparkling with mischief.
"And what if he doesn't know anything useful?" Elladan wanted to know.
"Well, in that case we'll gain only pleasure, instead of pleasure and information. Is that such a bad thing? As I said, he's beautiful... and I don't think he will have something to complain about, either. We'd all be happy!"
Elladan laughed. A beautiful sound to Elrohir's ears. "Count me in, brother," he said as they left the room, "count me in!"
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