Just One Night (Part One) Elrohir/Legolas; NC17

[jay-of-lasgalen.livejournal.com]

Title:  Just One Night
Author:  Jay of Lasgalen
Email:  Jayembee100@hotmail.com
Rating:  NC17
Pairing: Elrohir/Legolas
Warnings: None
Request:   I would like a diffident, inexperienced Legolas pursuing a much older, somewhat elusive Elrohir and eventually winning his love.  There can be gentle humor and/or angst as a result of Legolas' lack of experience and the way this affects their courtship and seduction of each other.  Please maintain their equality as male Elves and warriors throughout.  Explicit sex is fine but keep it emotionally engaging, i.e. not a passionless, blow-by-blow description of the act.  The story can take place anytime during the Third and/or Fourth Ages.
 
Do not include:   Please do not include rape or non-con, incest and AU and avoid feminizing (e.g. physically weak, hormonal, etc.) the male characters, slashing/pairing off every Elf in sight or turning characters who are not canonically evil/abusive into villains.  I am also not fond of reading fluff or sappy romances though I can tolerate mild doses of either.

Summary:  Legolas and Thranduil arrive in Imladris to celebrate Mid Winter with Elrond and his sons – and Legolas remembers a very special night twenty-two years before …

Written for Eresse - I hope you like it!

o-o-o-o

Just One Night

 

 

 

Two weeks before Mid Winter, Elrohir stood in a corner of the courtyard of Imladris, watching the hustle and bustle as grooms and servants scurried here and there in frantic, last minute preparations.   Messages were relayed from the guards: Thranduil’s party had been sighted at the ford; were on their way; were nearly here.  The frenzy increased.

 

Elladan appeared at his elbow.  “They are a few minutes away.  Father says to join him to welcome them.”

 

He followed Elladan across the courtyard to the top of the steps, just as Elrond came out of the main doors.  They stood, one on each side of their father, and with immaculate timing Thranduil and his warriors rode beneath the arch and stopped at the foot of the steps.

 

Elrohir watched as the formalities commenced.   His father spoke first:  “King Thranduil, Prince Legolas – you are most welcome to my home to join our celebrations.  You know my sons:  Elladan,” – Elladan stepped forward and bowed – “and Elrohir.”  Elrohir also bowed in greeting. 

 

As he straightened he saw Legolas watching him with great interest.  As the formal greetings ended, Legolas turned to him with a smile.  “Thank you for inviting us to share your Mid Winter festival – I am greatly looking forward to it!”

 

Elrohir nodded.  “Welcome to our home, Legolas.  It must be … over twenty years since we came to Lasgalen for your coming of age celebration.”

 

Legolas smiled again.  “Twenty-two years and five months,”  he agreed.  “And ten days.  I have not forgotten, Elrohir.  I missed you.”  There was a faint flush on his cheeks as he added, “I hope we will be able to spend some time together.”

 

“I shall look forward to it,”  Elrohir replied politely.  His heart sank, and he hoped that Legolas was not expecting too much.    They had spent just one night together, twenty – no, twenty-two years ago.

 

Elrond finished his conversation with Thranduil, and turned to his sons.  “Erestor and I will escort King Thranduil.  Elladan, Elrohir – would you take Legolas to his rooms?”

 

Elladan agreed with a smile.  “Of course, father – it would be our pleasure.”

 

As Elladan led the way into the house, Legolas followed him, though he glanced over his shoulder to make certain Elrohir was with them.   “Thank you.”   He dropped back to walk beside Elrohir as they ascended the staircase.  “I have been looking forward to this – to seeing you again.”  Very casually, his hand brushed against Elrohir’s.  “Though I know you are a captain here, and will no doubt be busy?”  He cast Elrohir a hopeful look.

 

Elrohir was torn between amusement at the blatant flirting, and sheer horror at the prospect of four weeks of this.  “Well, I have some free time for the festival – though very little! – but I will also be helping my father with the preparations.  We both will,”  he added, determined to make Elladan suffer as well.

 

“Oh.”  Legolas fell silent, though he kept casting Elrohir sidelong glances and shy smiles.  At last – and Elrohir had never before realised how long the corridors were, or how big the house was – they reached the suite of rooms Legolas was to use. 

 

Elladan threw the door open with a flourish.  “Welcome to Imladris!”

 

As Legolas crossed the room to admire the view down the valley, Elladan drew Elrohir aside.  “It seems you made quite an impression on the young prince!”  he whispered with a grin.

 

“El – it was just one night!”  Elrohir protested.

 

“For you, perhaps – he seems to regard it differently.  It was his first time, El – you know what a deep impact that can have.”

 

“Not for you!”  Elrohir retorted under his breath.  “I have never seen you look at Erestor like that.”

 

“Only because I know Glorfindel would kill me if I did!  That was different.  We both knew Erestor and Glorfindel were together, and not for us.   They just gave us … an introduction.” 

 

Legolas turned back from the window, his eyes sparkling.  “It is so beautiful!  I would love to explore.  Would you be able to show me the valley later?  Both of you,”  he added belatedly, though his eyes never left Elrohir.

 

“Alas, I cannot.”  Elladan did not sound in the least regretful.  “I have work to do.  But Elrohir is free – I am sure he would be delighted!”

 

Elrohir sent his twin a look of pure hatred.  “Of course.  It would be my pleasure,”  he said politely.  “I will kill you for this, El!”  he told Elladan silently.  Elladan merely grinned as he left, amusement flooding from him.

 

“That would be wonderful – thank you!”  If Legolas had had a tail, he would have wagged it, Elrohir thought sourly.  The young prince stepped a little closer.  “I have been looking forward to this for so long.”

 

Elrohir moved away from him, brushing a speck of dust from the table.  “Then I hope Imladris lives up to your expectations.  It is very different to Lasgalen.”

 

“It was not just Imladris I wanted to see.”  Suddenly Legolas was right behind him, arms around his waist – and groping lower.  “I wanted to see you, Elrohir.  I missed you.”

 

Elrohir turned swiftly.  This was a complication he did not need, and he was determined to put an immediate halt to it.  “Legolas.  We shared but one night – a long time ago.  I am sure there have been others for you in that time.”

 

Legolas shook his head, and raised one hand to touch Elrohir’s face gently.  “It was a special night – do you not remember it too?”

 

“Of course I remember it.  I counted it a great honour to be your first lover.  But …”

 

Legolas interrupted him.  “Not just first.  Only.  You are the only lover I have ever had, Elrohir – the only one I want.”  He edged closer again.  “I remember how gentle you were.”

 

Elrohir caught the hand, and lowered it carefully, his mind racing.  He had to put a stop to this now.  But how could he dissuade the young prince gently?  He did not want to hurt him, and had to be tactful.  “Legolas,”  he began carefully.  “I am flattered that you remember it so pleasurably.  But you did not need to wait for me.   I wanted you to take what you learned, and use it, and enjoy the company of the warriors of Lasgalen.  Or I am sure that there are many here in Imladris who would be delighted to share Mid Winter with you.  You do not need me.”

 

“But I do.  It is you, and only you, that I want.  I love you, Elrohir.”

 

He tried again.  “No.  You do not love me – you do not know me.  Love comes with knowledge, Legolas – knowledge of each other.  It comes from times shared together, from good times and bad.”

 

“I know enough,”  Legolas insisted.  “I know how kind and gentle and patient you are.  And the time we shared – even if it was just one night – was enough.  I know.  I love you.”  A sudden brilliant smile illuminated his entire face.  “But yes – I would love to spend more time with you, and come to know you even better.”

 

That was not what he had meant at all, but Elrohir was saved from answering by a knock on the door.  He moved quickly towards it as Thranduil came in.  “Legolas.  I wondered if you were ready – Elrond has asked us to join him in his study before lunch.”

 

Looking rather flushed, Legolas looked from his father to Elrohir.  “Would he mind if I said ‘no’?  I would like to bathe – and Elrohir said he would show me the valley.”

 

“My father will not mind at all,”  Elrohir assured him, seeing his chance to escape.  “You are guests of our house, and he only wishes your comfort.  If you wish to bathe, I will get one of the servants to prepare a bath for you.  If you will excuse me, I will see you later.”

 

Ignoring Legolas’s look of disappointment, Elrohir left hurriedly.  He found Elladan in their shared sitting room, reading through some week-old patrol reports.  “Your work was so pressing it could not wait?”  he enquired acidly.  Dropping into a deep armchair by the fire, he continued, “I have a problem.”

 

Elladan chuckled.  “I noticed.”

 

“Young Legolas fancies himself in love with me.  And now he is here in Imladris, he seems to want to continue our relationship.”

 

Elladan laughed again.  “And what relationship would that be?”  he asked with a grin.

 

“The Valar only know!  I have tried to dissuade him gently, but he does not seem to understand the meaning of ‘no’.  It was just one night, El – one night!”

 

“But a momentous one for him.  His coming of age celebrations, his first lover … ”

 

Elrohir sighed.  “And only lover, apparently.  I think that is the problem – he has no comparisons.   Because I was gentle with him, and made sure he forgot his nerves and inhibitions, and listened to him – he thinks it means that I care for him, too.”

 

Elladan abandoned the reports, and joined him by the fire.  “So what will you do?  You cannot avoid him all the time, and it seems he will not be easily dissuaded.”

 

“I do have one idea – and it is something I have already discussed with Glorfindel anyway.  This would be an excellent opportunity to exchange skills and ideas – Thranduil’s warriors can show us some of their training methods, and we can demonstrate ours.  There are bound to be differences, after all.  For one thing, they fight from the trees far more, while we usually keep to the ground.”

 

Elladan nodded with interest.  “That would be a good idea.  I was speaking with Thranduil’s captain, Tavor, when we were in Lasgalen – he was telling me how they fight the spiders.  I would like to learn more.”

 

Elrohir leaned his head back in relief.  “Good.  I will speak to Glorfindel and Tavor to arrange it.”

 

“Young Legolas will be very happy to spend so much time with you!”  Elladan commented with a grin.”

 

“But he will be busy.  And he will not be alone with me,”  Elrohir pointed out.  “There will be other warriors around all the time, so I will be safe from him.  And when he sees what a harsh taskmaster I can be, perhaps I will lose a little of my gloss!”  He grinned.  “This way, perhaps we will both survive this visit.”

 

o-o-o

 

At the evening meal that night, Elrohir was not surprised to find Legolas seated next to him, and he suspected the prince had rearranged the place cards.  Throughout the meal, Legolas brushed his hand against Elrohir’s as he reached for his wine glass, or helped himself to a platter of bread.   Although he spoke politely to Elrond, Elladan, Glorfindel and Erestor at times, most of his comments were directed at Elrohir alone.  “Elrohir – could you tell me what this dish is?”  “Elrohir, would you pass me the Dorwinion?”  “Elrohir, have you ever been to Dale?  They say the markets there are wonderful!”

 

There were a thousand casual touches, and Elrohir was not the only one who had noticed.  Erestor cast several amused glances at them, and nudged Glorfindel, who smiled broadly.  They seemed to enjoy Elrohir’s predicament.  Elladan of course took no notice at all, and pretended to be unaware of his twin’s plight.

 

To his surprise, Elrohir found he was unsure of how to handle the situation.  All his life he had received covetous looks and longing sighs from others, both elves and maidens.   He was used to it, and usually ignored it.  Some he had taken to his bed for a night or two.  There had been a few bolder, more persistent admirers, but he had dissuaded each one with a gentle rebuttal.   But Legolas – he would not be deterred, seemed unaware of the smiles he was attracting, and ignored Elrohir’s attempts to explain that no relationship existed.

 

Beneath the table, Legolas pressed his leg against Elrohir’s again, and a hand rested on his thigh.  Before long, the hand began to inch higher and higher.  Eventually Elrohir could take no more, and he slapped the hand away.  “Stop it!”  he hissed.

 

Legolas smiled at him, quite undeterred.  “You are right – this is not the place.  Another time, then!”  Then, at last, he turned away to talk to Glorfindel about Gondolin and Balrogs.

 

The announcement at the end of the meal about the warriors’ exchange was met with great interest by elves from both realms, and Elrohir spent the rest of the evening deep in conversation with Glorfindel and Tavor as they finalised the plans.

 

“Good – demonstrations, one-to-one combat, advanced training classes, and competitions,”  Glorfindel listed.   “I think that is all.  Tavor?”

 

Tavor nodded.  “If this is successful, perhaps a few of our warriors will be able to stay, and learn more – and some of yours can travel to Lasgalen. And perhaps this will keep certain young elves out of trouble, too,”  he added.  He turned to Elrohir.  “I can see he’s besotted with you, lad.  But Legolas is like a son to me.  Do not hurt his feelings.”

 

There was little Elrohir could say to that.  He managed to avoid Legolas as he left the hall, and made his way to bed, blessedly alone.  It had been a long day.

 

He was drifting on the edge of sleep when there was a knock at the door, and Elrohir tensed.  Surely even Legolas would not dare to come to his room like this?  The door opened a crack, and a voice called, “El?  Are you asleep?”

 

He ignored his twin – Elladan would pay for his lack of support tonight!  Lost in pleasant thoughts of retribution and revenge, Elrohir fell asleep.

 

o-o-o

 

 

The demonstrations began after breakfast the next day.  A large crowd gathered of warriors from both realms, novices, and interested maidens.  Glorfindel and Tavor began with an exhibition of knife-fighting; circling each other cautiously while they assessed each other’s strengths and weaknesses.  Elrohir watched carefully as Tavor lunged towards Glorfindel, but the latter slid away from the blade with ease.   They were closely matched, he realised – both leaders of their warriors, both with centuries of training and fighting behind them.  Glorfindel seemed to have the edge with two lifetimes of experience, but it was still tense and close fought.  At last Glorfindel feinted an attack to the right, then suddenly moved his dagger to his left hand and touched it against Tavor’s neck – the symbol of victory. 

 

Laughing, Tavor dropped his knife and acknowledged the win to Glorfindel.  “Who is next?”  he called.  “Unarmed combat!”

 

From the ranks of the Lasgalen warriors, Legolas stepped forward.  Tavor nodded in approval.  “And your opponent?”

 

“Elrohir!”  Legolas responded without hesitation – indeed, almost before the words had left Tavor’s mouth.

 

Elrohir groaned.  Behind him Elladan gave a sudden bark of laughter, which he quickly changed to a coughing fit.  “What was that about being safe from him, little brother?”  he murmured. 

 

“I am glad you find this so amusing!”  Elrohir hissed.  Knowing there was no choice, he stepped forward.  At least this would be an easy victory.  He was many centuries older than Legolas, had a thousand and more years of experience in fighting and training, and had greater physical strength.  It would be easy.

 

Very much to his surprise, it was not as easy as he had imagined.   Legolas, though very clearly enjoying the close-quarters combat, was nimble and fast, and slid away before Elrohir could engage with him.  Time and again he dodged a hold Elrohir was sure would be successful; as sleek and lithe as an otter.

 

He began to enjoy the challenge, realising that Legolas, young though he was, was rather more skilled than he had realised.  He closed in for another encounter, but Legolas twisted away again, counter-thrusting his weight against Elrohir.  Off balance, Elrohir slipped on the dew-damp grass, and  nearly fell.

 

There was a gasp of surprise from the watching crowd, and a cheer from someone in the Lasgalen ranks.  Breathing hard, Elrohir regained his balance and circled Legolas again, more wary now.  His best option, he decided, was to take Legolas by surprise.  Throwing himself forward, he pushed Legolas back, and with a deft twist knocked his legs from under him.

 

At last he had Legolas pinned on his back on the ground.  As Tavor declared Elrohir the winner, Legolas stared up at him in surprise, still breathless.  Then he gave a wicked grin.  “Mmm – I like this.  Do we have to get up?”

 

Elrohir leapt away from him as though scalded. “Yes!”  he snapped.  He held out his hand to help Legolas up – as courtesy and tradition demanded – and Legolas held on to it for a moment too long, squeezing his fingers gently.

 

“I enjoyed that,”  he murmured.  “Perhaps we can do it again?”

 

“No!”

 

They walked off the field to cheers and applause from both sides, and Legolas was dragged off by his own warriors amidst much congratulation.   Elladan turned to his twin.   “That was close, little brother.  For a moment I thought he nearly had you!”

 

Elrohir nodded.  “He did,”  he admitted.  “He is far better than I expected.”  It was one thing when he could dismiss Legolas as an infatuated youngling – but Legolas had just proved to be very nearly his equal in combat.

 

The ranks of warriors began to split up – those from Imladris interested in knife-fighting to work with Tavor, while those from Lasgalen joined Glorfindel.  Others wished to know more about unarmed combat.  Elrohir counted a dozen elves from the woodland realm clustered around him – but there were rather more of his companions who seemed most eager to learn from Legolas.  The young prince had clearly gained a great deal of support.

 

The next few days followed a similar pattern – demonstrations of different skills by warriors of both realms, then training sessions where those skills were exchanged.  During this time, Legolas proved to be a complex mix.  He continued his dedicated pursuit of Elrohir, the blatant flirtation a cause of much mirth among some of the warriors.  At the same time he showed himself to be remarkably skilled for his years.  Although he lacked the sheer experience of older warriors, he made up for it with a natural talent that many ignored to their cost.

 

Curious, Elrohir often watched from the sidelines when he was not leading the sessions himself.   Legolas was quick to pick up new techniques from the Imladris warriors, and full of enthusiasm to learn even more.  He was already respected among his own warriors, and could defuse a heated argument between them with a few quiet words.  It was very clearly the sort of respect that had been earned, not simply given due to his birth.

 

Tall and slender, what he still lacked in muscular strength he made up for in speed and agility, and his lithe body and sun-gold hair drew many admiring glances from both maidens and elves.  Elrohir sighed.  Why could Legolas not develop a passion for one of them?   As if called, Legolas turned at that point and saw him watching.  He smiled and waved, bowed to his opponent, then hurried to join Elrohir.

 

“I saw you watching me!”  he greeted Elrohir breathlessly.

 

“I watch most of the training sessions,”  Elrohir replied shortly.   “I like to see how our warriors compare to yours, and how well the new skills are being learned.”

 

Legolas slid a hand around Elrohir’s waist.  “And what do you think?” he asked, leaning close.

 

Elrohir sighed, and moved the hand away.  “I think it is time to watch the next competitions.”

 

o-o-o

 

 

It was inevitable that his obsession caused much comment.  Elrohir was passing a small group of warriors on the third day, when he heard Legolas’s name, followed by a burst of laughter.  “The little princeling is quite smitten with Lord Elrohir!”  one agreed.   “Have you heard him?  ‘Oh, Elrohir, may I sit with you?’  ‘Elrohir, will you be my partner for the sword fighting?’”  His imitation was cruelly accurate, and caught Legolas’s breathless tone perfectly.  The other two howled with laughter again.

 

“Calion, stop this mockery!”  Elrohir snapped behind the speaker. 

 

Calion turned swiftly, flushed with guilt, then relaxed.  “How do you stand it?”  he asked.  “He fawns over you like a puppy, yet you just ignore him!”

 

Elrohir frowned.  “He is young, that is all.  He does not deserve your contempt and ridicule.  And he has proved himself a far better archer than you, Calion!”

 

Calion scowled.  “A fluke!  But are you defending him?  Perhaps I can guess who will be gracing your bed on Mid Winter’s night?”

 

“I doubt it,”  Elrohir said coldly.  “He is a little inexperienced for my tastes.”

 

“Inexperienced?”  one of the other warriors echoed.  “I would have thought our young prince has had far more than his fair choice of bed mates!”

 

Elrohir remained silent.  He saw no reason to explain that Legolas had only ever had one lover.  These warriors would regard it as yet another cause for mirth.

 

“Well, if you don’t want him, give him a few nights with us!”  Calion leered, unrepentant.  “We’d soon add to his experience!”

 

“Enough!”  snapped Elrohir.  “He is a guest here, and a prince of his realm – and you will treat him as such.  With respect.”

 

Calion swallowed and nodded, quelled.  “Yes, my lord.”

 

“Good.  Or you will find yourselves on a month of night patrols – including Mid Winter’s night!  Do I make myself clear?”

 

“Yes, my lord.”

 

Annoyed by the warriors’ attitude and their disrespect, Elrohir left them to ponder.  Joining Elladan, who waited at the edge of the field, he jerked his head towards the three. “Did you hear that?”  he demanded.

 

Elladan nodded thoughtfully, though he was watching Elrohir, rather than the other warriors.  “Yes.  Yes, I did,”  he agreed.

 

o-o-o


(Continued in Part Two)