Leonalta

by erobey
unbeta'd

Part Five: Obladi Oblada

The day was declining and Anor retreating, streaking toward the shores of Aman in a glorious blaze of gold and violet and vermilion light across the western skies. Thranduil sat upon the balcony of his suite in the Last Homely House, gazing into the painted bunting of the fading sun, aimlessly twirling a crystal goblet half filled with miruvor, thinking of nothing for there was too much, of late, to occupy his troubled thoughts. He was not alone, for Celonlir his eldest was leaning on the railing staring into space while Elrond Half-elven seemed to be counting the cracks in the plaster ceiling above their heads. They had been there for several hours, having rehashed the entire situation from start to finish for what must have been the hundredth time, determining nothing new yet not despairing either.

It had been a few days since the King's embarrassing faint in the elven Lord's dining room, a few days since the bonding of the youngest child of Thranduil to the eldest of Elrond. The Sindarin King had come to terms with it after the entire story was relayed to him. This had initiated yet another tearful but joyous exchange of friendship and goodwill between the formerly distant leaders and their families. A feast had indeed been planned, hosted, and enjoyed by all the Valley's residents and the guests from Greenwood, even though the two principals for whom the party was thrown did not make an appearance.

Legolas and Elladan remained for the most part secluded in the confines of their converted apartment, the sun-washed terrace, and the grove of elms to which it adjoined. Family were permitted access in limited numbers and for short duration if invited to tea or to bask on the patio if the weather was nice. Legolas was still self-conscious about hobbling around on the staff wearing just loose robes because he could not easily manage leggings with his brace still attached. Of course, he was not over being angry with Arwen yet and so she was banned until further notice for he could not look her in the face without  blushing bright scarlet, thinking on what she had seen.

The newly bonded couple were content with each other's company and, though they tried to be polite about it, all they really wanted was to be alone in peace. They were not shy concerning their obvious adoration and simply could not get enough of one another. No one dared enter the former morning room, now their bed-sitting room, or wander past the rose trellis or the privet hedge. The elm grove was absolutely off limits at all times as this was revealed by Elladan to be Legolas' preferred spot for their daily bathing ritual.

In fact, folks tended to avoid the entire eastern side of Elrond's palatial estate, inside or out, because at any given moment of night or day the vociferous evidence of the new couples' amorous activities might intrude upon conversation, work, or reverie prompting others to initiate similar interludes of passion with their loved ones. It was a little distracting.

Thranduil sighed, not from displeasure or discontent, but over the ache he could not soothe no matter how much miruvor Elrond tried to make him drink. He had finally spoken with Legolas and this had shaken him far worse than hearing the tale of his son's ordeal had done. It had been immediately evident that this was not the same rebellious, irreverent and irrepressible warrior he had seen off through the Forest Gate just months ago. He had been shocked by the loss in weight and the controlled but constant pain from wounds his son refused to let him see. More disturbing had been the alterations in Legolas' personality.

His heart bled at the hesitancy his youngest showed to allow even a gentle embrace from his father. Legolas could not look him in the eye for more than a few second's worth of time, and in those flashes Thranduil saw fear and shame. This cut his soul, for he knew Legolas' fear was that his father would hold him to blame for everything that had happened.

Father and son had spent the entire morning together so that Thranduil could try and root out these doubts and worries, hoping to remove this obstacle from his son's recovery. The King had no idea if anything he had said was helpful, for in the end they both were drained from tears and confessions and Legolas had at last pleaded to be returned to Elladan, who had been anxiously pacing the corridor outside the morning room the entire time. The grieving father sighed again and took another sip of the cordial. "This captivity has robbed me of the Legolas I knew, the son I raised," he murmured dejectedly.

Celonlir startled and turned to him, features ashen and haggard. The elder prince had not been sleeping well of late. "I thought the bonding would make everything right," he complained, turning to the renowned healer and lore-master "Why is Legolas still suffering so much? When will we have him back, Lord Elrond?"

"I cannot answer you, for I did not know Legolas before. You say that he has changed and I do not doubt you," Elrond began thoughtfully, choosing his words with care for they spoke openly and he had learned the hard way that Legolas' hearing was extremely acute. How the princes own family failed to have caught on to this he had no idea. Of course, Elladan informed me. Mayhap Legolas never revealed this to anyone back home. The notion raised a minute smirk upon his features, for this was a characteristic more like the defiant youngster Thranduil had been given to describing in lovingly related but hilarious stories after dinner in the Hall of Fire.

"Everything we experience changes us, though, even the things we term 'good'. There can be no doubt what he endured will alter his personality somewhat. Most elves would have perished, Thranduil; you must be proud of such a strong son," Elrond continued.

"I am proud, have always been so. No father could ask for better children than have been entrusted to my care. It is that which disturbs me so, to be truthful with you. How I have failed him! He believes I would be shamed by what has happened because he feared to die. He could barely speak the words to me, and would not look into my eyes when he said them," Thranduil struggled to hold in the tears threatening to pour out again.

"Aye, Legolas has been terrified of Námo since he was an elfling," confirmed Celonlir. "He found some dreadful old religious text in the library and read it through before anyone knew he had it. It was all about the stern judgement an elf must face, the years in solitary confinement, parted from loved ones, friends, and even the natural world. He told me then he would never go there, no matter what happened to him."

Thranduil shared a wry smile with his eldest. "You know what he calls Elladan?" They chuckled together when Celonlir nodded. "Ai! What a complicated one our Tuiw Laes can be!"

"What does it mean?" Elrond smiled warily, looking from one to the other. He had heard Legolas call out this other name in the heat of passion and had wondered on it greatly, yet felt it would be crude to ask after something he was supposed to pretend he had not discerned. He had actually feared it might be the name of a former paramour, but surely Thranduil and Celonlir wound not find that amusing. "Who is this Leönalta?"

"Ah, I cannot believe you have not heard of him!" Celonlir exclaimed. "This is an old Quenya name for one of the Maia attached to Námo; said to be the great Vala's gatekeeper. It means 'Radiant Shadow'. He can get you into Mandos or set you free, very powerful sort of fellow. Described as tall and dark haired with flashing stormy eyes; carries around a shining mithril dagger. He was a kind of patron among silvan warriors in the ancient days. One would pray to him for a clean death in battle."

Elrond's brows rose in interest and surprise, still smiling faintly, relieved to know there was no jealous lover somewhere in Greenwood whom Elladan would someday have to confront.

"Why does Elladan call my brother 'Little Kiss'?" asked Celonlir in turn, hoping Elrond could clear it up.

"Well, I could invent all sorts of theories based on what I know of Elladan's character, but let us just say none of them are of a nature suitable for discussion outside the bedchamber," Elrond intoned with a shake of his head, winning a guffaw from Thranduil and a sly snicker from Celonlir at the spooning couples' expense.

Despite his joy over his eldest son's choice to remain among the First Born, Elrond could not but worry over the kind of bond his son had forged so quickly with this very much younger and somewhat enigmatic forest prince. He could not deny their dedication to one another and just because he could not adequately explain it that did not mean he wished to impede or hinder their union in any way. Doing so would certainly be injurious to Legolas, who depended almost entirely on Elladan for emotional and physical support. Probably will do so for many months to come. As for his eldest, Elrond could see that he had given over his heart and soul completely and without reservation. Somehow this silvan had ensnared him and to try and break them apart now would wound Elladan just as much.

"Adar," Celonlir broke the short silence and spoke seriously as he met his father's sorrowful gaze. "I have discussed this with Legolas and he has assured me he bears no lingering anger, yet I know it is there. I can see it burning in his eyes when he looks at me. He believes I failed him when I missed that shot. He would not have suffered so much if I had…"

"Silence!" Thranduil thundered out the word and shot up from his chair, fury contorting his features as he glared at Celonlir. Alarmed, Elrond stood and moved to get between them but the King's long arm barred him from taking another step. "Do not ever say such a thing," the King hissed. "If you had succeeded I would never have forgiven you, Celonlir. Legolas will come around in time; after all he would never have found Elladan if you had not missed. I, on the other hand, would not have forgiven you. Ever." He repeated the dire statement vehemently and Celonlir sank down in a chair, too shocked to stand upright longer.

"It was his wish, Ada, he demanded it from me and I could not refuse!" the distraught brother pleaded for understanding.

"I do not care. Call me selfish if you wish; it matters not. I would have my Tuiw Laes alive, no matter his condition," Thranduil resumed his seat, calmer now as he saw the genuine remorse and grief his eldest was suffering over what had befallen his baby brother. "None of what happened was your doing, Celonlir, and you could not have helped him more than you did."

"Your father is correct," added Elrond. "The responsible parties have been destroyed and that deed you may claim as your own, as well as ridding the northern settlements of Eriador of a pestilential evil that has long plagued their harried lives." Elrond sat, too, relieved the pair were not about to come to blows. Life in the halls of the Wood Elves' king must be a constant source of dramatic diversion for the silvans.

"That is not what your sons believe," countered Celonlir, more morose than ever.

"What are you talking about?" demanded Thranduil.

"Elladan said the Black Riders only wanted jewels and money. Aragorn thinks it also and thus so must Elrohir. I could have bought Legolas' freedom had I but understood the vile fiends' intent," the elder prince barely whispered these words, so difficult were they to admit. If his father could never forgive him for ending Legolas' life, the punishment for causing him so much agony must be nearly as horrific. Celonlir braced his soul for the worst. To his utter amazement, Thranduil fell upon his knees beside the prince's chair and wrapped him in a tight embrace.

"Ah, Celonlir; so I have failed you also," he whispered brokenly. "How can you hold yourself responsible? Have you not given the answer to these misguided conclusions already? You had no way to know those hybrid men and Orcs would trade an elf for gold and mithril. Such is not in our experience, for the foul demons of Dol Guldur want only to kill and maim. The fault is mine, Ion Vinui, (First Son) if there is any to assign. I should have sent you forth for a time to learn of the ways among our neighbours' realms."

The elder prince exhaled a loud sob and gripped his father tightly for long minutes. When at last they disengaged both had tear-stained faces but smiled nonetheless. Celonlir looked as if he had escaped a terrible doom and could breath again. Hope, though faint and flickering, shone in his dark blue eyes.

"Thank you, Ada," he said and sniffed. "Do you really believe he will forgive me?"

"Of course he will," Thranduil insisted, patting his son's knee as he resumed his place with a slight grunt, for his own knee caps were a bit stiff. He took up the miruvor and finished it off in one gulp. "What do you say we all go down to that Hall of Fire and listen to Lindir's songs for a time," he suggested, turning to Elrond for confirmation.

"An excellent idea," the Lord of Imladris nodded as he rose from his chair and led the way.

Once down on the first floor, the trio had to pass by the doorway to Elladan and Legolas' chambers. Unconsciously, all three elves fell to sneaking, as if their footsteps would bother the newly-bonded couple. Just as they were level with the portal, a subdued peel of high giggles sounded through the solid barrier, followed by the teasing murmur of a fair elven voice in a lower vocal range. The giggles intensified and the elven Lord, the King and his son were quite certain they knew what sort of activity produced that kind of hysterical laughter: Elladan was tickling Legolas unmercifully.

They continued on their way, sharing their mirth over the carefree nature of the beleaguered prince's mood, glad in their hearts that he was on the mend. The merriment stopped abruptly and the trio halted, curious in spite of themselves. Then the door to the couples' chamber was flung wide and Legolas leaned his head out, cheeks flushed, hair mussed, and eyes bright from the recent exercise, Elladan right beside him in pretty much the same state.

"Do you mind if we come along?" the archer asked in a voice more like the one his father was accustomed to hearing. Legolas shared a wide grin with his beloved as soon as he saw his Adar's face light up.

"Certainly you may!" Thranduil enthused and fortunately for Legolas and Elladan the Lord of Imladris blocked him from bustling over and fussing over his convalescent youngest child. "Have you been able to make him eat anything?" Thranduil directed this worried query at his new son-in-law.

"Let him be," scolded Celonlir. "Legolas never eats much anyway. You look better this evening, Tuiw." The elder prince gave his baby brother a hesitant smile.

"I am better, Cel," Legolas answered sincerely. "I meant to give you this before; it is a souvenir of sorts."

He tossed a gleaming metal object to Celonlir who caught it and then caught his breath. It was the point of the arrow he had shot at his brother. The Sindarin prince turned it over and over in his hands, desperately trying to master his emotions, unable to meet his brother's eyes, when Elladan called him from this self-berating fugue.

"Now that is from me, muindor," said Elladan kindly. "I have never thanked you properly for missing your target that day."

Celonlir lifted his face at last and smiled at them but could not manage words just then. No one seemed to expect him to as the couple exited their room and moved slowly into the corridor, Legolas leaning heavily on his mate for support.

"Should be a fun night; Elrohir told us Lindir is going to formally propose to Glorfindel in the form of a lyric allegory. There is a substantial pool accumulating concerning whether or not the mighty warrior will realise he is the subject of this masterpiece, and if so, what his answer will be." Elladan expounded.

That set off a round of argument and joking at the Balrog Slayer's expense that ceased abruptly when he joined them along the way. If he found the numerous questions regarding his opinion and interpretation of various poems odd, well, life in Elrond's household was often odd. Upon reaching the Hall of Fire, they discovered most of the inhabitants already gathered and everyone gave the new couple a warm welcome and toasted their happiness several times.

Aragorn and Arwen gave up their cosy overstuffed armchair so that Elladan could hold Legolas close. Everyone shared tender smiles as the golden-haired elf snuggled up with their Lord's eldest as the usually sombre twin pressed a little kiss to his beloved's temple.

Erestor found his way over to Elrond and the old friends surveyed the scene contentedly. "Two down, Elrond; only one left to fret over now," said the seneschal. Truly he meant it in an encouraging manner, but Elrond's eyes grew wide in startlement and he searched the room frantically for his youngest. His mouth went dry as he spied Arwen, laughing at something Aragorn had just said, letting him lean close to whisper in her ear, his hands resting round her slender waist and hers reposed upon his broad shoulders.

METHED
(The End)

Author's Closing Note: The following restrictions/conditions were placed on this story. They have been met as best I could and I hope the result is enjoyable.
Do NOT show: spanking
PLEASE show: drugging, pain/comfort moments, agony, ecstasy
Word/Phrase to include: "Bite me!"
Items that should appear: rope, miruvor
Any Special Notes?: No character death please!

Disclaimer: Main characters and settings originally created by JRR Tolkien. Just for fun, no money earned. OC's and story are erobey's.

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