Prince of Mirkwood
Prince of Mirkwood
Pairing: Aragorn/Legolas
Summary: An incident triggers the war in ME. No ring of power, but the follies of men.
Disclaimer: Not MINE. LOTR characters are all Tolkien's.
Chapter 10
Crimson Dawn
(Part 3)
The waterfalls were practically singing, and the trees were dancing. The wind was a little bubbly. It was strange. Elrohir thought at first, and then he saw what had caused all of this. His gaze fell on the golden hair that glowed at sunlight. This reminded him of the golden woods and its golden stream. Then came the face designed when Arda was on her bloomiest. His eyes must have been carved from a pair of beautiful stars at night. His nose was made out from kisses as his lips, a mound formed as remnant of the Ilúvatar’s great love to his elves.
“Well met, Lords Esteleryn, Tuilas and Lasare. I am afraid I am yet to know the name of your beautiful companion,” he said. He knew Esteleryn. He was his best companion.
“Elrohir, this is Legolas. Legolas, this is Elrohir. Father has finally succumbed to his eager desire to come here in Rivendell,” said Esteleryn with amusement in his voice.
“Well met, Legolas,” he said, extending his arm to greet him. Legolas took it and they embraced. Sweet smell invaded his nostrils; warmed his heart. He suddenly felt the urge to touch Legolas’ golden hair.
“Do not stare at him longer, Elrohir. He is petulant, and he will crush your heart. Father has a great reason to keep him in Mirkwood,” Tuilas said in jest, but both Esteleryn and Legolas were dismayed.
“Tuilas, always the joker. He is just possessive of Legolas, Elrohir,” Lasare said.
“And my opinion does not matter, I supposed,” Legolas answered. His face showed no anger, nor amusement. It was like hundred of butterflies just died before their eyes.
“I am sorry, Legolas.” There was a hint of regret in Tuilas’ voice. “I’m only teasing. Elrohir and I were used to it. And you know how much I adore you.”
Legolas’ presence in Rivendell enlivened the elves. His youthful exuberance ignited creative passion in every elf who laid eyes on him, transforming Elrond’s hall into a contest in celebration of a great beauty expressed eloquently in verses and paintings. It was as if the days of merriment had arrived once again. It was, however, for the elders an anachronism as the golden age of the elves had long been gone. Grey haven had been greatly tempting and the strength of their resistance wavered every day. The sage in Elrond’s court had welcomed such distraction, but they could not resist painting dread in the face of such festivity.
“Do I have reason to worry for our Legolas?” Esteleryn’s voice had shaken him out of his rumination.
“Perhaps, you can say I give no fight againt your brother’s charm,” he answered.
“And here I am hoping you should have fought harder like a great warrior that you are. However, it will bring me much comfort if Legolas will choose you.” Indeed! This gave him confidence to seek the young elf’s heart. He did pursue his intention in the garden.
“Have you ever considered binding yourself with another, Legolas,” he said, so softly that Legolas almost did not hear it.
“I have not thought about it yet. But I understand that I will have to in the future. I need to experience more and engage in more adventures to be worthy with whomever I betroth myself -be it a male or a female.”
“I am sure there will be more persistent male admirers than female who would probably just hide their intentions behind their shy smiles. Do you see yourself being wedded with another male elf?” Elrohir saw that Legolas’ cheeks turned to pink, and his eyes glittered.
He did not answer him, but rather gave him a shy smile that would forever disturb Elrohir’s sleep.
Elrond was happy of his choice. Being betrothed with Legolas meant Elrohir chose the first-born life and, thus, would live forever with him in the grey haven. The elder elf then
Encouraged him to ask permission from Thranduil. Although parents normally did not choose their children’s life partner, it would be more appropriate if Thranduil would know of Elrohir’s intention to his youngest son. Elrohir had decided to accompany the young prince on his way home to Mirkwood that same night when he made a promise to meet him in Elrond’s hall. That was the same night he last saw the light in Legolas’ eyes.
The news broke his heart while the knowledge of Estel and Legolas’ secret liaison sent him crashing down into the halls of Mandos. It was just too much for him to bear that he was content to live thinking about that day when he and Legolas were together in the garden. The young elf was smiling at him. It was the very image he would take with him in his eternal sleep.
************************
Elrond was a great healer. But could he call out a soul from the death? There was still warmth in Elrohir’s hand when he touched it. But Arwen’s was fast getting cold. He was sickened by the thought that he could not save both. His mind was besieged with images of his daughter hinting about Aragorn’s intention to her.
“He needs to prove himself to me that he deserves you, Arwen. When he is ready, then he and you will have my blessings.”
But it was his words. It was his promise. He understood it now. There was a day that Estel was smiling by just looking at a butterfly. There was a night he saw him sang to the star. There were days he volunteered himself to go with the rangers. This he thought was Estel‘s intention to learn more, to experience more, to grow more. He thought it was because he was intending to prove his worth to Arwen. He thought he was ready to ask Arwen’s hand. He understood it now. It was clear as day. Elrond was just probably too engaged in thinking that Legolas was for Elrohir, and Arwen was for Aragorn. No. He could not blame Aragorn. He, Aragorn, gave no promise to Arwen. He, Elrond, did.
When he is ready.
If he wept too hard, he was endangered to slip into the Hall of Mandos. If he gave in to the panic in his heart, he would lose both of his children. He could not leave Elrohir. He could still save him. But Arwen. She was his heart.
Warm hand touched his shoulder, giving him comfort. He almost surrendered to his anger. He was sitting in between his two children lying on the beds in the house of healing. His right hand was holding his daughter while his left was with his son.
“This is all because of the love for your son, Thranduil.”
Could he really put all the blame to the youngest prince of Mirkwood?
Rivendell’s wind suddenly turned to dense. The waterfalls had changed their songs. The sky darkened. The clouds were pregnant with impending doom. That same night while the house of Elrond was in mourning, Mirkwood warriors saddled their horses, sharpened their swords and arrows, and marched their way onward to the battle of their lifetime.
The war in Middle Earth began.
Pairing: Aragorn/Legolas
Summary: An incident triggers the war in ME. No ring of power, but the follies of men.
Disclaimer: Not MINE. LOTR characters are all Tolkien's.
Chapter 10
Crimson Dawn
(Part 3)
The waterfalls were practically singing, and the trees were dancing. The wind was a little bubbly. It was strange. Elrohir thought at first, and then he saw what had caused all of this. His gaze fell on the golden hair that glowed at sunlight. This reminded him of the golden woods and its golden stream. Then came the face designed when Arda was on her bloomiest. His eyes must have been carved from a pair of beautiful stars at night. His nose was made out from kisses as his lips, a mound formed as remnant of the Ilúvatar’s great love to his elves.
“Well met, Lords Esteleryn, Tuilas and Lasare. I am afraid I am yet to know the name of your beautiful companion,” he said. He knew Esteleryn. He was his best companion.
“Elrohir, this is Legolas. Legolas, this is Elrohir. Father has finally succumbed to his eager desire to come here in Rivendell,” said Esteleryn with amusement in his voice.
“Well met, Legolas,” he said, extending his arm to greet him. Legolas took it and they embraced. Sweet smell invaded his nostrils; warmed his heart. He suddenly felt the urge to touch Legolas’ golden hair.
“Do not stare at him longer, Elrohir. He is petulant, and he will crush your heart. Father has a great reason to keep him in Mirkwood,” Tuilas said in jest, but both Esteleryn and Legolas were dismayed.
“Tuilas, always the joker. He is just possessive of Legolas, Elrohir,” Lasare said.
“And my opinion does not matter, I supposed,” Legolas answered. His face showed no anger, nor amusement. It was like hundred of butterflies just died before their eyes.
“I am sorry, Legolas.” There was a hint of regret in Tuilas’ voice. “I’m only teasing. Elrohir and I were used to it. And you know how much I adore you.”
Legolas’ presence in Rivendell enlivened the elves. His youthful exuberance ignited creative passion in every elf who laid eyes on him, transforming Elrond’s hall into a contest in celebration of a great beauty expressed eloquently in verses and paintings. It was as if the days of merriment had arrived once again. It was, however, for the elders an anachronism as the golden age of the elves had long been gone. Grey haven had been greatly tempting and the strength of their resistance wavered every day. The sage in Elrond’s court had welcomed such distraction, but they could not resist painting dread in the face of such festivity.
“Do I have reason to worry for our Legolas?” Esteleryn’s voice had shaken him out of his rumination.
“Perhaps, you can say I give no fight againt your brother’s charm,” he answered.
“And here I am hoping you should have fought harder like a great warrior that you are. However, it will bring me much comfort if Legolas will choose you.” Indeed! This gave him confidence to seek the young elf’s heart. He did pursue his intention in the garden.
“Have you ever considered binding yourself with another, Legolas,” he said, so softly that Legolas almost did not hear it.
“I have not thought about it yet. But I understand that I will have to in the future. I need to experience more and engage in more adventures to be worthy with whomever I betroth myself -be it a male or a female.”
“I am sure there will be more persistent male admirers than female who would probably just hide their intentions behind their shy smiles. Do you see yourself being wedded with another male elf?” Elrohir saw that Legolas’ cheeks turned to pink, and his eyes glittered.
He did not answer him, but rather gave him a shy smile that would forever disturb Elrohir’s sleep.
Elrond was happy of his choice. Being betrothed with Legolas meant Elrohir chose the first-born life and, thus, would live forever with him in the grey haven. The elder elf then
Encouraged him to ask permission from Thranduil. Although parents normally did not choose their children’s life partner, it would be more appropriate if Thranduil would know of Elrohir’s intention to his youngest son. Elrohir had decided to accompany the young prince on his way home to Mirkwood that same night when he made a promise to meet him in Elrond’s hall. That was the same night he last saw the light in Legolas’ eyes.
The news broke his heart while the knowledge of Estel and Legolas’ secret liaison sent him crashing down into the halls of Mandos. It was just too much for him to bear that he was content to live thinking about that day when he and Legolas were together in the garden. The young elf was smiling at him. It was the very image he would take with him in his eternal sleep.
************************
Elrond was a great healer. But could he call out a soul from the death? There was still warmth in Elrohir’s hand when he touched it. But Arwen’s was fast getting cold. He was sickened by the thought that he could not save both. His mind was besieged with images of his daughter hinting about Aragorn’s intention to her.
“He needs to prove himself to me that he deserves you, Arwen. When he is ready, then he and you will have my blessings.”
But it was his words. It was his promise. He understood it now. There was a day that Estel was smiling by just looking at a butterfly. There was a night he saw him sang to the star. There were days he volunteered himself to go with the rangers. This he thought was Estel‘s intention to learn more, to experience more, to grow more. He thought it was because he was intending to prove his worth to Arwen. He thought he was ready to ask Arwen’s hand. He understood it now. It was clear as day. Elrond was just probably too engaged in thinking that Legolas was for Elrohir, and Arwen was for Aragorn. No. He could not blame Aragorn. He, Aragorn, gave no promise to Arwen. He, Elrond, did.
When he is ready.
If he wept too hard, he was endangered to slip into the Hall of Mandos. If he gave in to the panic in his heart, he would lose both of his children. He could not leave Elrohir. He could still save him. But Arwen. She was his heart.
Warm hand touched his shoulder, giving him comfort. He almost surrendered to his anger. He was sitting in between his two children lying on the beds in the house of healing. His right hand was holding his daughter while his left was with his son.
“This is all because of the love for your son, Thranduil.”
Could he really put all the blame to the youngest prince of Mirkwood?
Rivendell’s wind suddenly turned to dense. The waterfalls had changed their songs. The sky darkened. The clouds were pregnant with impending doom. That same night while the house of Elrond was in mourning, Mirkwood warriors saddled their horses, sharpened their swords and arrows, and marched their way onward to the battle of their lifetime.
The war in Middle Earth began.