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

o-o-o

 

A few days before Mid Winter, the weather changed.  A bitter wind blew from the north, straight from the mountains of Angmar by the feel of it.   Sleet was hurled in freezing, horizontal flurries before it, and the training sessions and demonstrations were cancelled. 

 

Faced with an unexpected free afternoon, Elrohir headed for the library.  It would be quiet, peaceful, and warm; and above all he could browse among old and half-forgotten friends until the call for evening meal. 

 

He found someone there before him, and hesitated when he recognised Legolas reading by one of the windows.   He really did not relish the prospect of another declaration of love, or being cornered in some shadowy alcove.  He was too late, though.  Legolas looked up and his face brightened.  “Elrohir!  I have only just found this place, or I would have been here days ago.  I never imagined so many books existed!  Have you read them all?”  His vague gesture encompassed the thousands upon thousands of books that lined the shelves and walls.

 

Elrohir had to smile at his enthusiasm.  “No.  Not all of them – and my father adds to his collection all the time.  And there are always some tales I read again and again, rather than search out new stories.”

 

Legolas nodded.  “I know what you mean!  Our library at home is wonderful, but so much smaller.  It is difficult to find new books.   Few of the men of Esgaroth read, so the traders never bring them.”

 

“You enjoy reading?”

 

“Oh, yes!   Tales of the First Age, of the Last Alliance, stories from Gondolin.  And to think that Glorfindel is the same Glorfindel who battled with the Balrog!”

 

Elrohir laughed.  “I remember my own astonishment – and the nightmare my brother and I had when Glorfindel told us his story.  What are your favourite tales?”

 

As they talked, the dull grey afternoon outside darkened into night.  The wind whistled and howled, and sleet hissed against the windows.  To Elrohir’s great surprise, Legolas – when he was not trying to seduce or impress – was an interesting companion.  He had a surprising depth of knowledge of history – not just political events, which could be expected, but also of the people behind the events.  He had a deep love of stories and poetry.   He also had a shrewd mind, and an acerbic tongue.

 

Realising that the room was completely dark, Elrohir rose to light the lamps.  “Where is your father today?”  he asked.

 

Legolas shrugged.  “A messenger arrived this morning.  He will be reading through the reports which Lanatus sent, and all the ills which have befallen Lasgalen in our absence.”

 

Ills?  What ills?”

 

Legolas grinned.  “Nothing of a serious nature.  Lanatus is my father’s Steward.  He very good at his job, but is what you might call a worrier.  He is never happy unless there is something wrong, and always takes the bleakest outlook.”

 

“I know the type,”  Elrohir commented.  “Every silver lining has a cloud.” 

 

“Yes!”  Legolas exclaimed.  “That describes him perfectly!   I must tell my father.”  He smiled.  “I have enjoyed this afternoon – being able to just talk to you, with no-one else around.”  He paused, and his tone changed.  “Elrohir – it is nearly Mid Winter.  I know it is the custom here to share Mid Winter’s night with … someone.  Someone special.”  He reached across the table and took Elrohir’s hand.  “Sometimes it seems as if you are trying to avoid me.  Why?  You know I love you.” 

 

Elrohir sighed.  “Legolas …”  he began again.  As he tried to pull away again, Legolas clung to him. 

 

“Elrohir.  Please.  Will you spend Mid Winter with me?”  He leaned across the table and kissed him swiftly.  “I love you,”  he repeated.

 

After Legolas had gone, Elrohir stayed in the library staring out at the darkness beyond the windows.  Despite everything he had done to discourage it, Legolas’s infatuation had not faded in the least – if anything, it seemed stronger. 

 

“What am I to do, El?”  he asked later.  “Nothing I do or say makes any difference!  I must say, he is very persistent.”

 

“Aye – nearly as stubborn as you!”  Elladan agreed with a grin.  “Perhaps you have more in common than you realise.  You would be well suited!  Why not just give in and agree?”

 

Elrohir did not bother to reply.  It seemed that this Mid Winter would be another long and lonely one for him.  There was no-one who held his heart, and he no longer had any desire for casual liaisons.  There had been many over the years, occasional bed-mates for a night, a week, a month – but never any longer.  There had been no-one at all for many years now – not since his return from Lasgalen.  He wanted someone to share his heart and soul with, not just his bed.

 

He wished he had a little of Legolas’s certainty – he was so sure, so eager!  He rather envied the prince his youthful enthusiasm, and grinned to himself.  Perhaps he should agree to the fervent demands after all – maybe then Legolas would leave him in peace.   Thinking of Legolas he hesitated, remembering his final plea, and considered the idea more seriously.  Perhaps they should spend the night together – would it be such a bad idea?  It was for just one night, after all.  And Legolas was passionate, eager, and more than willing.

 

“Perhaps I will,”  he said slowly, in response to Elladan’s words.  “After all, why not?”

 

Elladan gaped at him.  “El, are you mad?  I was joking!”

 

“But why not?  I can think of far worse things than to spend Mid Winter’s night with him.  He is attractive, and very eager.  This is what he wants!”

 

“You said yourself that he fancies himself in love with you,”  Elladan explained.  “He will only take this as encouragement that you return his affections!”

 

“Elladan, it is just one night!  Where is the harm in that?”  Even as he spoke, Elrohir wondered which of them he was trying to convince.

 

“Where is the harm?”  Elladan echoed in disbelief.  “Elrohir, Thranduil will have your balls for table decorations if you hurt his son!”

 

Elrohir snorted.  “Of course I will not hurt him – he was well pleased last time, if you remember!”

 

“I did not mean that, as you well know!  Think, El.  You are doing this for all the wrong reasons.  Is it worth it?  You will end up breaking his heart.”  Elladan paused, then continued softly, “I know you are not that cruel.”

 

Exchanging a long look with his brother, Elrohir sighed.  He hated it when Elladan was right.  He nodded.  “You are right, of course.  I know you are.  It would only cause more problems.  And I do not want to hurt him.”  He gave a small smile.  “I find I am quite fond of him.”

 

Elladan grinned.  “Like a lively puppy.  He is impossible to dislike.”

 

o-o-o

 

On Mid Winter’s eve, the rooms and hall of Imladris were decked with prickly leaved holly, and branches of resinous pine adorned the mantels.  Ivy trailed along the windows and doors, and sprigs of mistletoe with its pearly berries hung from the rafters.  As dusk fell, Elrohir waited outside with his family and the rest of the household and guests to watch for the appearance of the first star – the traditional start of the festivities.

 

A child’s excited voice rang through the waiting silence.  “I see it!  Happy Mid Winter!”

 

“Happy Mid Winter!”  The traditional greeting was exchanged all around, between families and friends and lovers. 

 

“Happy Mid Winter, Elrohir.”  Legolas murmured behind him, sliding his hands around Elrohir’s waist.  He circled round to face him, then looked up with a grin.  “Look – mistletoe!  You cannot deny me now!”  He leaned forward and kissed Elrohir passionately to a chorus of laughs and whistles.  Then, mercurial, he slid away and whirled Elladan around as well, bestowing a fleeting kiss on him too before disappearing into the crowds.

 

Laughing, Elladan watched him go.  “If it was not for Gildor, I think I would be tempted to keep him company tonight!  El, do you think he would notice the difference between us?”  He turned to look at his twin.  “Elrohir?  What is wrong?”

 

Elrohir swallowed.  “Nothing!”  he snapped, wondering at his sudden urge to thump Elladan, and trying to ignore the aching erection that Legolas’s kiss had given him.  “Nothing at all.”

 

o-o-o


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