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tolkien_slashy_swapsTitle: The Best Portion (3/3)
Author: Aglarien
Type: FPS
Characters: Elladan/Legolas
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Not mine. The great Master Tolkien's estate owns everything else. I promise to return his elves when I'm done playing with them.
Warnings: AU.
Beta: Jay of Lasgalen. All remaining mistakes are mine alone.
Summary: Written for Melethen for the Ardor in August fiction exchange. Elladan and Legolas finally sail and find joy in Valinor.
Request: Pairing: Elladan/Legolas. Plot: Resolved angst, established relationship in Valinor. Happy ending, please.
That best portion of a good man's life, his little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and of love. ~William Wordsworth (1770-1850)
Elrond moved his hands gently over Elladan’s chest as his son lay in the bed, frowning at the mottled portrait of pain represented by dark red blotches, vivid purple smudges, and a spattering of putrid yellow. “One of the ribs is broken,” he said quietly, “and is pressing against your lungs, causing fresh bruising. It is well that you are strong. You have borne this injury far too long, my son.”
“I thought they were just cracked,” Elladan replied, his hand clutching Legolas’. Only the three of them were in the room, Elrond having asked the others to leave while he saw to Elladan’s injuries.
“It is nearly impossible for a healer to tell his own injuries, Elladan, especially when pain clouds the vision. But there is nothing you could have done: a healer cannot heal himself,” Elrond responded.
Elladan nodded and watched as his father focused his healing energy, sending it into his tormented chest. Heat flowed from the Master Healer’s fingertips, spreading throughout his body, building until Elladan was nearly nauseous with it. With a sickening, grinding noise, the broken piece of rib moved, and he gasped…and then all turned to black.
“Is he all right, Adar?” Legolas asked anxiously. He trusted Elrond implicitly, but this was his mate, and he had a hard time trying to control his panic when Elladan fell unconscious.
“He will be now, my son,” Elrond answered. “All is well. He will awake again in a few minutes and be able to breathe more easily.” The healer began to smooth a salve over Elladan’s chest to speed the healing of the bruises. “We will bind his chest again, but not as tightly as before. He should stay in bed for the rest of the day, but tomorrow he can get up. He will continue to heal for some time yet. His body will let him know if he does too much, but you know how stubborn he is. You will need to keep an eye on him and make sure he rests.”
Legolas nodded. “He tries to fool me often, but he cannot.”
“I fear you must delay resuming your marital relations a little longer,” Elrond said. He was well aware that Elladan and Legolas had a healthy and sometimes loud love life, recalling the times he had inadvertently passed by and heard them. “It is not safe for him yet, aside from the fact that it would cause him pain. Will you wait until I tell you it is all right?”
“I could never do anything to hurt him,” Legolas said with a nod. “We will wait until you say.” As hard as it would be, there was no question that Legolas would ensure they waited until Elladan was healed.
Elrond and Legolas bound Elladan’s chest again and clothed him in a comfortable nightshirt. The injured Elf had not yet awoken, and so they waited, Elrond in a chair beside the bed, and Legolas sitting on the bed beside his husband.
Elrond picked up the walking stick Elladan had used, weighing it in his hands. “This is a beautiful piece of craftsmanship,” he said quietly. “Did you make it for him?”
“Not I,” Legolas answered. “That is friend Gimli’s work.”
“Is it indeed?” Elrond said, surprised. He did not realize that the Dwarf possessed such skill with wood as well as stone. “I wonder if he would be willing to do some carving for us. There is always furniture and other things to be made or repaired.”
“What is it like here, Adar?” Legolas asked.
“Much as it was in Middle-earth, but without war and evil things,” Elrond responded with a smile. “The Valar do not meddle in our daily lives. To do so would take away our free will, and that is not their purpose. They interfere only when there is serious judgment to be passed. As always, there is much to do, and many people to feed and care for.”
“I do not know what I expected, but I did not expect...that,” Legolas said, amazed. “I don’t know…perhaps I thought the Valar would just take care of everything.”
“No, nothing like that,” Elrond said with a smile. “Once Elladan is well, you will both need to decide what you wish to do with yourselves, at least for a time. But you may take your time to decide, and you may always change your mind later and choose something else. Although we still train warriors should they ever be needed again, Elrohir has already decided to put away his weapons and work with the scribes and librarians. It is something he has always enjoyed, and he wants to spend time with his mother and, I suspect, with Melpomaen.”
“There is a need for warriors here?” Legolas asked, now completely confused. “I thought you said there was no war? Do they do battle with the seagulls?”
Elrond chuckled softly. “Evil entered this land once before, and we will be ready to defend it if it happens again. This is not the end of life, Legolas, merely life in a more peaceful place. The same problems over relationships, petty squabbles, and hurts exist here. Elves court and marry and raise their children in peace; they learn, work, produce food, make things, and even manage to continue to injure themselves by careless accidents or mishap. Valinor is not without pain – it is merely without the pain of war and strife.”
“There is a need for teachers then? For the young?” Legolas asked, intrigued.
Elrond nodded. “Learning and skilled crafts flourish here, and well as art and the making of things of beauty. Think of all of the many tasks it takes for a community to thrive. My robes, for example,” he said, fingering the fabric. “It took someone to grow the flax, spin the thread, weave the thread into linen, and sew the garment. Break each object down into what is required for its making, and each of those trades exist here. There is no trading with the Men of Lake Town for wine, Legolas,” he said, smiling, knowing of Legolas’ fondness for the drink. “We make our own.”
“So I could tend the vines, or crush the grapes, or simply be a wine-taster,” the Sindar Elf said with a grin. “But how do our people live here? What order is there to their lives?”
“Elves from each of the different realms throughout our history tend to settle together as they did on Middle-earth, with the same leaders and same customs, although they are free to join another group or live alone, just as they please. But there is no competition or struggle between the different peoples, or realms…or houses…or whatever you want to refer to them as. That is simply not allowed or tolerated. I do not know what would happen if there were, but I suspect that Manwë would have no compunction in ordering the offenders shipped back to Middle-earth as punishment. Send them to Mordor, mayhap.” He grinned. “We tend to refer to the different groups by the name of their leader. The Elves of Imladris are simply called ‘Elrond’s House’. The Elves of the Woodland Realm are called ‘Oropher’s House’.”
“Are all of our people who passed before here then? Have they all been re-embodied?”
“Not all. Those who caused great harm – Maeglin, for instance – are not among us, nor are many of the Kinslayers. We do not know their fate, and it is not spoken of,” Elrond answered.
“Is there exchange between the different houses then?” Legolas asked.
“There is trade among the different groups, and goods of the best quality are usually readily available, since there is time now for developing the finest of skills. Our families are so interwoven throughout all of our history that there is much love and fellowship among the different houses. Thranduil has not yet decided with which house he will settle and make his home – with his father, his friend Celeborn, or here - mainly because of you. That is why he was residing with Celeborn since they arrived here. Our families are now intertwined, and it is my hope that you and your father will stay here with us in this home, instead of building your own.”
Legolas sat and silently contemplated all that Elrond had said, but unbeknownst to both of them Elladan had awoken and heard most of it.
“I wish to be a healer, Ada,” Elladan said softly. “Just a healer. And I want us – Legolas and I – to live here with you, if he will consent to it.”
Legolas smiled and leaned over to place a kiss on Elladan’s head. “Then we will, and we will just have to convince my father to stay here too. I am not certain yet what I am called to do, but I suspect we will work it out in time.”
Elrond bent over Elladan and smiled. “Are you feeling better now? Breathing easier?”
“I am, thank you Ada,” Elladan said. “But are you not exhausted from using your healing energy on me?”
“No, not at all,” Elrond replied. “I feel wonderful, in fact. You will find that it is one of the blessings of Valinor. Our spirits are not weighed down by the burdens of Arda here. You will heal faster here for the same reason. I expect you to be fully healed before a month has passed, as long as I continue to share my healing energy with you daily.”
~~~*~~~
A strangely subdued and quiet Gimli was escorted back to the house late in the day. After being warmly welcomed by the Elves, he joined Legolas and Elladan in their rooms for a while before the dinner hour.
“What was it like, Gimli?” Legolas asked. “Where you were taken? What was Aulë like?”
The Dwarf puffed on his pipe and looked at Legolas for a long moment before he finally said, “I have no words to describe the beauty of his halls, or of Aulë himself. I sat in his presence, and we talked. He asked me many questions about the Dwarves and we…talked.” He fell silent.
“Was he kind, Gimli?” Elladan asked. “He told you that you were welcome here?”
“Oh yes,” Gimli replied, although it was easy to tell his mind was still partly back with Aulë in the Vala’s halls. “He was very kind. To be in his presence was extraordinary, and yet he made me feel comfortable. He asked me about the Fellowship and our quest. We spoke of many things. He told me that I was welcome here, not just because I was a member of the Fellowship, or because he thought I could bring new skills in working stone here, but because now each of the races is represented here: Elf, Man, Hobbit and Dwarf. Tuor is here, you know – Elrond’s grandfather. Aulë told me he is the only Man ever to be allowed into the Blessed Realm. And we have all been granted the same span of life as Elves. I find that hard to accept. I cannot quite imagine…”
“Give it time, Gimli.” Legolas nodded in understanding. “Did you see Lady Galadriel?” he asked.
Gimli’s face glowed. “I did.” He removed a piece of cloth from his tunic and carefully unfolded it. “She asked if I still had her hair, and when I told her I left it with my people, where it is reverenced, she gave me this.” On the cloth lay a lock of golden hair.
~~~*~~~
Two weeks later, Elladan, Legolas, and Thranduil were enjoying the sunshine on a fine mid-morning in Celebrían’s gardens. Elladan lay with head on Legolas’ lap, while his mate and law-father sat side-by-side talking, their backs resting against a tree.
“Ada, are you sorry that Grandfather is now the leader of our people?” Legolas asked.
“Sorry? No. It is his rightful place, and I do not want to lead anyone anymore,” Thranduil answered softly. “For the first time in my life, I feel…free.”
Legolas nodded. “I feel guilty sometimes because I want to live here instead of with our people.”
“I think you have become more Noldor than Sindar over the years,” Thranduil said. “Perhaps I have as well.”
“I feel guilty too that I do not have any stronger feelings for my mother. It was good to meet her, but I do not know her. I found myself not even wanting to know her better. Is that wrong of me, Ada?”
“Your mother could not wait to sail after you were born, Legolas. This you have always known. There was no love in our arranged marriage – merely companionship and respect. She felt she had done her duty to me, and when weariness overtook her, she left us. You have no reason to feel guilty about her,” Thranduil answered.
“So what will you do here, Ada?” Legolas asked.
“Me?” Thranduil chuckled. “I will live! And for the first time in my life, I will do what it pleases *me* to do!”
“And what is that, Adar?” Elladan asked, joining the conversation.
“Your father and mine have been talking about joining forces and farming together for the benefit of both houses,” Thranduil answered. “I believe I shall try my hand at farming. To work with the earth…feel the rich soil in my hands…be a part of growing things. I think I will like that. There is a vast fallow field between the farmland of the two houses, and we shall start there – both houses working it together.”
“What a wonderful idea,” Elladan said, making himself more comfortable on Legolas’ lap.
“So Elladan will work as a healer, and I shall farm, but what of you, my son?” Thranduil asked. “What will you do?”
Legolas smoothed Elladan’s soft, dark hair with his hand. “I will be Elladan’s mate and be blissfully happy…and I will work with Glorfindel and train the young ones in archery two or three days a week.” He grinned. “And on the other days, Gimli is going to teach me how to carve wood and we will make furniture together.”
“And we will live in the House of Elrond and be happy,” Thranduil added softly, smiling.
Elladan had a silly-looking grin on his face as he watched father and son embrace. Their life would be good – very good.
~~~*~~~
Legolas and Gimli were in the healing wing, hanging the new wall cabinet they had made for Elrond. Out of the corner of his eye, Legolas watched his mate tend to an Elf who had burned himself on a forge. Elladan moved easily now and had gone the past two days with barely a twinge of pain. The bruises had all faded and he no longer needed to use the walking stick.
Elrond came and stood beside his law-son, seemingly examining the new cabinet he had requested. “He is moving well,” he whispered. “Has he complained of any pain?”
“Not for several days,” Legolas whispered back. “Is he healed, Adar?”
“I would prefer to have you wait a few more days, but I can hardly ask you to do that when you have been so patient. Just be…careful…gentle,” Elrond replied. “Do not let him strain himself.”
Gimli groaned. “Lord Elrond,” he said, his voice low, “if you don’t mind, I’ll be moving my quarters to the other side of the house, next to the Hobbits.”
Legolas looked at his friend in surprise. “Why, Gimli? Do you not like being close to Elladan and me?”
Gimli gave his friend a scathing look. “No, Laddie, not at night, I do not. I love you and that mate of yours like brothers, but I had quite enough of living close to you in that cottage. I would like to continue sleeping in peace here without having to stuff cotton in my ears, and that I cannot do in the room next to you and Elladan!”
“Hmmm…you do have a good point, Gimli,” Elrond said, grinning. “It is fortunate that no one else’s rooms are near to theirs. Even Thranduil didn’t want to be next to them.”
Legolas had the grace to blush.
~~~*~~~
Legolas sat in their large, sunken bath between Elladan's legs. He resisted the urge to lean back against his husband's chest as Elladan washed his long golden hair. He always loved the feel of Elladan's large hands and elegant fingers weaving through his hair and massaging his scalp. The hands of a healer. Their bath was leisurely and relaxing, their deep love for each other evident in gentle touches and caresses.
"Your hair was full of sawdust," Elladan said, moving his fingers through the blond mane. He had brushed Legolas’ hair free of everything from chips of wood to powdery dust before wetting it. He always loved washing Legolas' hair - loved the feel of the silky hair slipping through his fingers.
"You should have seen Gimli's - and his beard," Legolas chuckled. "I found out while building the ship with him how much I enjoy working with wood. He says I have a talent for it."
"You do indeed," Elladan said. "The cabinet the two of you built for Ada is beautiful."
"I have much to learn about carving. Gimli did most of the carving on the doors, but he let me do a little as he showed me how."
"I have no doubt that you will soon be as skilled as he," Elladan said, knowing it was true. "There is nothing I have seen you do that you do not excel at."
"Probably because I only do those things that I think I will be good at," Legolas replied with a snort of laughter.
Elladan laughed softly and poured fresh water over Legolas' hair to rinse off the soap.
When their bath was finished and their hair had been brushed and dried before the fire, the two Elves lay in their large bed, their legs entwined and Elladan draped over Legolas’ chest.
“I have something to tell you, dear one,” Legolas whispered as he ran his hands along Elladan’s back. “Your father said you are healed enough and if we are careful, we can make love again.”
“I know. He told me he had talked to you,” Elladan said with a soft laugh. “I was wondering how long you were going to keep me waiting, heart of my heart.”
“Is not my timing impeccable?” Legolas replied with a grin. “Here we are, freshly bathed, in bed and naked. I think it was the perfect time to tell you.”
“I cannot argue with that,” Elladan whispered against Legolas’ lips before kissing him deeply. As their tongues slid together, slowly tasting and teasing, his fingers wound through soft golden hair. In all his long years, he had never understood what a kiss could be like before Legolas. Nothing had ever prepared him for the effect his beautiful mate could have on him, even after over a hundred years of marriage. One look, one touch, one kiss, and he was always aching for more. He pulled back to look into sparkling blue eyes, now darkened with desire. “I love you, Legolas. So very much.”
“Elladan, my Elladan,” Legolas whispered, his breath coming in soft pants. “I will always, always love you.” He pressed his lips against his mate’s, his tongue delving and plundering Elladan’s sweetness until they were both breathless. “Tell me what you want, beloved,” he whispered huskily.
“You,” Elladan said, breathless. “I need you, love.”
“Then have me,” Legolas replied, shimmying out from beneath Elladan enough to reach for the phial of oil that sat on their bedside table. Handing the oil to his mate, he drew his knees to his chest and whispered, “Hurry, my love. I have waited so long. I need you too.”
Elladan opened the phial of oil and quickly slicked his aching arousal. There would be time for leisurely foreplay later. Now, he just needed to inside of Legolas, joined with him again, and he knew his mate felt the same need. He coated his fingers, set the oil back on the table, and leaned over to press his lips against Legolas’. He gently circled his fingers around his mate’s puckered entrance before pressing one inside.
Legolas felt his body relax around the finger that pressed into him and pulled away from the kiss. “Please, love, take me. It is enough. I want you so much.”
Elladan nodded, his body shaking with need. He gently removed his finger, moved between Legolas’ legs, and slowly slid his thick arousal into the Elf he loved. “Oh, Legolas,” he moaned, stopping when he was fully sheathed in the tight channel to allow his mate to adjust.
Legolas wrapped his legs around Elladan’s waist as his body welcomed his mate. With a low moan, he drew Elladan down for a deep kiss and raised his hips, telling his lover to move.
Their lovemaking was slow and sweet, and both lasted longer than they would have believed possible after their long abstinence. When Elladan finally wrapped his hand around Legolas’ straining shaft and stroked, the blond Elf cried out in bliss and spilled hot over his mate’s hand. Elladan moaned loudly, Legolas’ name falling from his lips, and followed his husband into ecstasy.
After long minutes, Elladan lay against his mate, resting his head on Legolas’ chest and listening to the steady heartbeat that pulsed in time with his own. “I love you,” he whispered. “I will always love you. After the Dagor Dagorath when all of creation - Elves, Men, Dwarves, and Hobbits – stand before the throne of Eru Ilúvatar and sing His Second Song to bring the new world into being, I will be beside you.”
Legolas stroked the dark head that lay against his chest and whispered, “I love you, Elladan. Hand in hand, side by side, by the rekindled light of the Two Trees we will sing the Second Music of the Ainur - together.”
Epilogue
Caladir snuffed out the final candle, giving one last look around the great library of Gondor for any exposed flame. It was now many years past since he had been appointed its chief librarian, and he was always the last to leave each night. In his hands he carried a worn, leather-bound volume. Each special day - holidays, anniversaries and birthdays - he removed the treasured book from the library with King Eldarion's blessings and carried it home. With his family gathered around him, he would read aloud the tales it held.
The stories of the early days of their great King Elessar and the Elves in Rivendell sprang from its pages to full, glorious life with each reading. Each occasion would begin with the oft-told story of how the Lord Elladan Half-Elven had come to their village and saved Ivorien's life. When the tale was retold, he would sit in the high-backed chair that he had brought to Gondor from his childhood home after his parents' passing - the chair the dwarf Gimli had said was the very one Lord Elrond had sat in during the Council before the Fellowship had departed on their quest - and read to them from the journal.
Tonight, his wife, children, and grandchildren would gather with his sister and her family for Ivorien's birthday and they would share the story. Their children and grandchildren knew the tale by heart, but they would once again sit with rapt expressions, waiting on his every word. As he left the library and walked the short distance to his home, his face held a smile, and he remembered old friends and acts of kindness and love.
~End
Dagor Dagorath: The Final Battle when Morgoth is finally destroyed. The three Silmarils will be recovered from the Earth, sea, and sky, and Fëanor's spirit will be released from the halls of Mandos to give them to Yavanna, who will break them and rekindle the light of the Two Trees. The battle will end and renew Arda's existence: all the Elves will awake and the Powers will be young again. According to Dwarven legends, the Dwarves will help their maker Aulë recreate Arda in all its glory again. Following this, there will be a Second Music of the Ainur. This song will sing into being a new world. Men will sing it with the Ainur. It is unknown what the fate of the old races, or of the old world, will be in the new one. Even the Ainur do not know anything of the second world or the Second Music. All the Ainur know is that the Second Music will be greater than the First Music. (Synopsis taken from Wikipedia, where you can read more about this prophecy.)
Author: Aglarien
Type: FPS
Characters: Elladan/Legolas
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Not mine. The great Master Tolkien's estate owns everything else. I promise to return his elves when I'm done playing with them.
Warnings: AU.
Beta: Jay of Lasgalen. All remaining mistakes are mine alone.
Summary: Written for Melethen for the Ardor in August fiction exchange. Elladan and Legolas finally sail and find joy in Valinor.
Request: Pairing: Elladan/Legolas. Plot: Resolved angst, established relationship in Valinor. Happy ending, please.
That best portion of a good man's life, his little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and of love. ~William Wordsworth (1770-1850)
Elrond moved his hands gently over Elladan’s chest as his son lay in the bed, frowning at the mottled portrait of pain represented by dark red blotches, vivid purple smudges, and a spattering of putrid yellow. “One of the ribs is broken,” he said quietly, “and is pressing against your lungs, causing fresh bruising. It is well that you are strong. You have borne this injury far too long, my son.”
“I thought they were just cracked,” Elladan replied, his hand clutching Legolas’. Only the three of them were in the room, Elrond having asked the others to leave while he saw to Elladan’s injuries.
“It is nearly impossible for a healer to tell his own injuries, Elladan, especially when pain clouds the vision. But there is nothing you could have done: a healer cannot heal himself,” Elrond responded.
Elladan nodded and watched as his father focused his healing energy, sending it into his tormented chest. Heat flowed from the Master Healer’s fingertips, spreading throughout his body, building until Elladan was nearly nauseous with it. With a sickening, grinding noise, the broken piece of rib moved, and he gasped…and then all turned to black.
“Is he all right, Adar?” Legolas asked anxiously. He trusted Elrond implicitly, but this was his mate, and he had a hard time trying to control his panic when Elladan fell unconscious.
“He will be now, my son,” Elrond answered. “All is well. He will awake again in a few minutes and be able to breathe more easily.” The healer began to smooth a salve over Elladan’s chest to speed the healing of the bruises. “We will bind his chest again, but not as tightly as before. He should stay in bed for the rest of the day, but tomorrow he can get up. He will continue to heal for some time yet. His body will let him know if he does too much, but you know how stubborn he is. You will need to keep an eye on him and make sure he rests.”
Legolas nodded. “He tries to fool me often, but he cannot.”
“I fear you must delay resuming your marital relations a little longer,” Elrond said. He was well aware that Elladan and Legolas had a healthy and sometimes loud love life, recalling the times he had inadvertently passed by and heard them. “It is not safe for him yet, aside from the fact that it would cause him pain. Will you wait until I tell you it is all right?”
“I could never do anything to hurt him,” Legolas said with a nod. “We will wait until you say.” As hard as it would be, there was no question that Legolas would ensure they waited until Elladan was healed.
Elrond and Legolas bound Elladan’s chest again and clothed him in a comfortable nightshirt. The injured Elf had not yet awoken, and so they waited, Elrond in a chair beside the bed, and Legolas sitting on the bed beside his husband.
Elrond picked up the walking stick Elladan had used, weighing it in his hands. “This is a beautiful piece of craftsmanship,” he said quietly. “Did you make it for him?”
“Not I,” Legolas answered. “That is friend Gimli’s work.”
“Is it indeed?” Elrond said, surprised. He did not realize that the Dwarf possessed such skill with wood as well as stone. “I wonder if he would be willing to do some carving for us. There is always furniture and other things to be made or repaired.”
“What is it like here, Adar?” Legolas asked.
“Much as it was in Middle-earth, but without war and evil things,” Elrond responded with a smile. “The Valar do not meddle in our daily lives. To do so would take away our free will, and that is not their purpose. They interfere only when there is serious judgment to be passed. As always, there is much to do, and many people to feed and care for.”
“I do not know what I expected, but I did not expect...that,” Legolas said, amazed. “I don’t know…perhaps I thought the Valar would just take care of everything.”
“No, nothing like that,” Elrond said with a smile. “Once Elladan is well, you will both need to decide what you wish to do with yourselves, at least for a time. But you may take your time to decide, and you may always change your mind later and choose something else. Although we still train warriors should they ever be needed again, Elrohir has already decided to put away his weapons and work with the scribes and librarians. It is something he has always enjoyed, and he wants to spend time with his mother and, I suspect, with Melpomaen.”
“There is a need for warriors here?” Legolas asked, now completely confused. “I thought you said there was no war? Do they do battle with the seagulls?”
Elrond chuckled softly. “Evil entered this land once before, and we will be ready to defend it if it happens again. This is not the end of life, Legolas, merely life in a more peaceful place. The same problems over relationships, petty squabbles, and hurts exist here. Elves court and marry and raise their children in peace; they learn, work, produce food, make things, and even manage to continue to injure themselves by careless accidents or mishap. Valinor is not without pain – it is merely without the pain of war and strife.”
“There is a need for teachers then? For the young?” Legolas asked, intrigued.
Elrond nodded. “Learning and skilled crafts flourish here, and well as art and the making of things of beauty. Think of all of the many tasks it takes for a community to thrive. My robes, for example,” he said, fingering the fabric. “It took someone to grow the flax, spin the thread, weave the thread into linen, and sew the garment. Break each object down into what is required for its making, and each of those trades exist here. There is no trading with the Men of Lake Town for wine, Legolas,” he said, smiling, knowing of Legolas’ fondness for the drink. “We make our own.”
“So I could tend the vines, or crush the grapes, or simply be a wine-taster,” the Sindar Elf said with a grin. “But how do our people live here? What order is there to their lives?”
“Elves from each of the different realms throughout our history tend to settle together as they did on Middle-earth, with the same leaders and same customs, although they are free to join another group or live alone, just as they please. But there is no competition or struggle between the different peoples, or realms…or houses…or whatever you want to refer to them as. That is simply not allowed or tolerated. I do not know what would happen if there were, but I suspect that Manwë would have no compunction in ordering the offenders shipped back to Middle-earth as punishment. Send them to Mordor, mayhap.” He grinned. “We tend to refer to the different groups by the name of their leader. The Elves of Imladris are simply called ‘Elrond’s House’. The Elves of the Woodland Realm are called ‘Oropher’s House’.”
“Are all of our people who passed before here then? Have they all been re-embodied?”
“Not all. Those who caused great harm – Maeglin, for instance – are not among us, nor are many of the Kinslayers. We do not know their fate, and it is not spoken of,” Elrond answered.
“Is there exchange between the different houses then?” Legolas asked.
“There is trade among the different groups, and goods of the best quality are usually readily available, since there is time now for developing the finest of skills. Our families are so interwoven throughout all of our history that there is much love and fellowship among the different houses. Thranduil has not yet decided with which house he will settle and make his home – with his father, his friend Celeborn, or here - mainly because of you. That is why he was residing with Celeborn since they arrived here. Our families are now intertwined, and it is my hope that you and your father will stay here with us in this home, instead of building your own.”
Legolas sat and silently contemplated all that Elrond had said, but unbeknownst to both of them Elladan had awoken and heard most of it.
“I wish to be a healer, Ada,” Elladan said softly. “Just a healer. And I want us – Legolas and I – to live here with you, if he will consent to it.”
Legolas smiled and leaned over to place a kiss on Elladan’s head. “Then we will, and we will just have to convince my father to stay here too. I am not certain yet what I am called to do, but I suspect we will work it out in time.”
Elrond bent over Elladan and smiled. “Are you feeling better now? Breathing easier?”
“I am, thank you Ada,” Elladan said. “But are you not exhausted from using your healing energy on me?”
“No, not at all,” Elrond replied. “I feel wonderful, in fact. You will find that it is one of the blessings of Valinor. Our spirits are not weighed down by the burdens of Arda here. You will heal faster here for the same reason. I expect you to be fully healed before a month has passed, as long as I continue to share my healing energy with you daily.”
~~~*~~~
A strangely subdued and quiet Gimli was escorted back to the house late in the day. After being warmly welcomed by the Elves, he joined Legolas and Elladan in their rooms for a while before the dinner hour.
“What was it like, Gimli?” Legolas asked. “Where you were taken? What was Aulë like?”
The Dwarf puffed on his pipe and looked at Legolas for a long moment before he finally said, “I have no words to describe the beauty of his halls, or of Aulë himself. I sat in his presence, and we talked. He asked me many questions about the Dwarves and we…talked.” He fell silent.
“Was he kind, Gimli?” Elladan asked. “He told you that you were welcome here?”
“Oh yes,” Gimli replied, although it was easy to tell his mind was still partly back with Aulë in the Vala’s halls. “He was very kind. To be in his presence was extraordinary, and yet he made me feel comfortable. He asked me about the Fellowship and our quest. We spoke of many things. He told me that I was welcome here, not just because I was a member of the Fellowship, or because he thought I could bring new skills in working stone here, but because now each of the races is represented here: Elf, Man, Hobbit and Dwarf. Tuor is here, you know – Elrond’s grandfather. Aulë told me he is the only Man ever to be allowed into the Blessed Realm. And we have all been granted the same span of life as Elves. I find that hard to accept. I cannot quite imagine…”
“Give it time, Gimli.” Legolas nodded in understanding. “Did you see Lady Galadriel?” he asked.
Gimli’s face glowed. “I did.” He removed a piece of cloth from his tunic and carefully unfolded it. “She asked if I still had her hair, and when I told her I left it with my people, where it is reverenced, she gave me this.” On the cloth lay a lock of golden hair.
~~~*~~~
Two weeks later, Elladan, Legolas, and Thranduil were enjoying the sunshine on a fine mid-morning in Celebrían’s gardens. Elladan lay with head on Legolas’ lap, while his mate and law-father sat side-by-side talking, their backs resting against a tree.
“Ada, are you sorry that Grandfather is now the leader of our people?” Legolas asked.
“Sorry? No. It is his rightful place, and I do not want to lead anyone anymore,” Thranduil answered softly. “For the first time in my life, I feel…free.”
Legolas nodded. “I feel guilty sometimes because I want to live here instead of with our people.”
“I think you have become more Noldor than Sindar over the years,” Thranduil said. “Perhaps I have as well.”
“I feel guilty too that I do not have any stronger feelings for my mother. It was good to meet her, but I do not know her. I found myself not even wanting to know her better. Is that wrong of me, Ada?”
“Your mother could not wait to sail after you were born, Legolas. This you have always known. There was no love in our arranged marriage – merely companionship and respect. She felt she had done her duty to me, and when weariness overtook her, she left us. You have no reason to feel guilty about her,” Thranduil answered.
“So what will you do here, Ada?” Legolas asked.
“Me?” Thranduil chuckled. “I will live! And for the first time in my life, I will do what it pleases *me* to do!”
“And what is that, Adar?” Elladan asked, joining the conversation.
“Your father and mine have been talking about joining forces and farming together for the benefit of both houses,” Thranduil answered. “I believe I shall try my hand at farming. To work with the earth…feel the rich soil in my hands…be a part of growing things. I think I will like that. There is a vast fallow field between the farmland of the two houses, and we shall start there – both houses working it together.”
“What a wonderful idea,” Elladan said, making himself more comfortable on Legolas’ lap.
“So Elladan will work as a healer, and I shall farm, but what of you, my son?” Thranduil asked. “What will you do?”
Legolas smoothed Elladan’s soft, dark hair with his hand. “I will be Elladan’s mate and be blissfully happy…and I will work with Glorfindel and train the young ones in archery two or three days a week.” He grinned. “And on the other days, Gimli is going to teach me how to carve wood and we will make furniture together.”
“And we will live in the House of Elrond and be happy,” Thranduil added softly, smiling.
Elladan had a silly-looking grin on his face as he watched father and son embrace. Their life would be good – very good.
~~~*~~~
Legolas and Gimli were in the healing wing, hanging the new wall cabinet they had made for Elrond. Out of the corner of his eye, Legolas watched his mate tend to an Elf who had burned himself on a forge. Elladan moved easily now and had gone the past two days with barely a twinge of pain. The bruises had all faded and he no longer needed to use the walking stick.
Elrond came and stood beside his law-son, seemingly examining the new cabinet he had requested. “He is moving well,” he whispered. “Has he complained of any pain?”
“Not for several days,” Legolas whispered back. “Is he healed, Adar?”
“I would prefer to have you wait a few more days, but I can hardly ask you to do that when you have been so patient. Just be…careful…gentle,” Elrond replied. “Do not let him strain himself.”
Gimli groaned. “Lord Elrond,” he said, his voice low, “if you don’t mind, I’ll be moving my quarters to the other side of the house, next to the Hobbits.”
Legolas looked at his friend in surprise. “Why, Gimli? Do you not like being close to Elladan and me?”
Gimli gave his friend a scathing look. “No, Laddie, not at night, I do not. I love you and that mate of yours like brothers, but I had quite enough of living close to you in that cottage. I would like to continue sleeping in peace here without having to stuff cotton in my ears, and that I cannot do in the room next to you and Elladan!”
“Hmmm…you do have a good point, Gimli,” Elrond said, grinning. “It is fortunate that no one else’s rooms are near to theirs. Even Thranduil didn’t want to be next to them.”
Legolas had the grace to blush.
~~~*~~~
Legolas sat in their large, sunken bath between Elladan's legs. He resisted the urge to lean back against his husband's chest as Elladan washed his long golden hair. He always loved the feel of Elladan's large hands and elegant fingers weaving through his hair and massaging his scalp. The hands of a healer. Their bath was leisurely and relaxing, their deep love for each other evident in gentle touches and caresses.
"Your hair was full of sawdust," Elladan said, moving his fingers through the blond mane. He had brushed Legolas’ hair free of everything from chips of wood to powdery dust before wetting it. He always loved washing Legolas' hair - loved the feel of the silky hair slipping through his fingers.
"You should have seen Gimli's - and his beard," Legolas chuckled. "I found out while building the ship with him how much I enjoy working with wood. He says I have a talent for it."
"You do indeed," Elladan said. "The cabinet the two of you built for Ada is beautiful."
"I have much to learn about carving. Gimli did most of the carving on the doors, but he let me do a little as he showed me how."
"I have no doubt that you will soon be as skilled as he," Elladan said, knowing it was true. "There is nothing I have seen you do that you do not excel at."
"Probably because I only do those things that I think I will be good at," Legolas replied with a snort of laughter.
Elladan laughed softly and poured fresh water over Legolas' hair to rinse off the soap.
When their bath was finished and their hair had been brushed and dried before the fire, the two Elves lay in their large bed, their legs entwined and Elladan draped over Legolas’ chest.
“I have something to tell you, dear one,” Legolas whispered as he ran his hands along Elladan’s back. “Your father said you are healed enough and if we are careful, we can make love again.”
“I know. He told me he had talked to you,” Elladan said with a soft laugh. “I was wondering how long you were going to keep me waiting, heart of my heart.”
“Is not my timing impeccable?” Legolas replied with a grin. “Here we are, freshly bathed, in bed and naked. I think it was the perfect time to tell you.”
“I cannot argue with that,” Elladan whispered against Legolas’ lips before kissing him deeply. As their tongues slid together, slowly tasting and teasing, his fingers wound through soft golden hair. In all his long years, he had never understood what a kiss could be like before Legolas. Nothing had ever prepared him for the effect his beautiful mate could have on him, even after over a hundred years of marriage. One look, one touch, one kiss, and he was always aching for more. He pulled back to look into sparkling blue eyes, now darkened with desire. “I love you, Legolas. So very much.”
“Elladan, my Elladan,” Legolas whispered, his breath coming in soft pants. “I will always, always love you.” He pressed his lips against his mate’s, his tongue delving and plundering Elladan’s sweetness until they were both breathless. “Tell me what you want, beloved,” he whispered huskily.
“You,” Elladan said, breathless. “I need you, love.”
“Then have me,” Legolas replied, shimmying out from beneath Elladan enough to reach for the phial of oil that sat on their bedside table. Handing the oil to his mate, he drew his knees to his chest and whispered, “Hurry, my love. I have waited so long. I need you too.”
Elladan opened the phial of oil and quickly slicked his aching arousal. There would be time for leisurely foreplay later. Now, he just needed to inside of Legolas, joined with him again, and he knew his mate felt the same need. He coated his fingers, set the oil back on the table, and leaned over to press his lips against Legolas’. He gently circled his fingers around his mate’s puckered entrance before pressing one inside.
Legolas felt his body relax around the finger that pressed into him and pulled away from the kiss. “Please, love, take me. It is enough. I want you so much.”
Elladan nodded, his body shaking with need. He gently removed his finger, moved between Legolas’ legs, and slowly slid his thick arousal into the Elf he loved. “Oh, Legolas,” he moaned, stopping when he was fully sheathed in the tight channel to allow his mate to adjust.
Legolas wrapped his legs around Elladan’s waist as his body welcomed his mate. With a low moan, he drew Elladan down for a deep kiss and raised his hips, telling his lover to move.
Their lovemaking was slow and sweet, and both lasted longer than they would have believed possible after their long abstinence. When Elladan finally wrapped his hand around Legolas’ straining shaft and stroked, the blond Elf cried out in bliss and spilled hot over his mate’s hand. Elladan moaned loudly, Legolas’ name falling from his lips, and followed his husband into ecstasy.
After long minutes, Elladan lay against his mate, resting his head on Legolas’ chest and listening to the steady heartbeat that pulsed in time with his own. “I love you,” he whispered. “I will always love you. After the Dagor Dagorath when all of creation - Elves, Men, Dwarves, and Hobbits – stand before the throne of Eru Ilúvatar and sing His Second Song to bring the new world into being, I will be beside you.”
Legolas stroked the dark head that lay against his chest and whispered, “I love you, Elladan. Hand in hand, side by side, by the rekindled light of the Two Trees we will sing the Second Music of the Ainur - together.”
Epilogue
Caladir snuffed out the final candle, giving one last look around the great library of Gondor for any exposed flame. It was now many years past since he had been appointed its chief librarian, and he was always the last to leave each night. In his hands he carried a worn, leather-bound volume. Each special day - holidays, anniversaries and birthdays - he removed the treasured book from the library with King Eldarion's blessings and carried it home. With his family gathered around him, he would read aloud the tales it held.
The stories of the early days of their great King Elessar and the Elves in Rivendell sprang from its pages to full, glorious life with each reading. Each occasion would begin with the oft-told story of how the Lord Elladan Half-Elven had come to their village and saved Ivorien's life. When the tale was retold, he would sit in the high-backed chair that he had brought to Gondor from his childhood home after his parents' passing - the chair the dwarf Gimli had said was the very one Lord Elrond had sat in during the Council before the Fellowship had departed on their quest - and read to them from the journal.
Tonight, his wife, children, and grandchildren would gather with his sister and her family for Ivorien's birthday and they would share the story. Their children and grandchildren knew the tale by heart, but they would once again sit with rapt expressions, waiting on his every word. As he left the library and walked the short distance to his home, his face held a smile, and he remembered old friends and acts of kindness and love.
~End
Dagor Dagorath: The Final Battle when Morgoth is finally destroyed. The three Silmarils will be recovered from the Earth, sea, and sky, and Fëanor's spirit will be released from the halls of Mandos to give them to Yavanna, who will break them and rekindle the light of the Two Trees. The battle will end and renew Arda's existence: all the Elves will awake and the Powers will be young again. According to Dwarven legends, the Dwarves will help their maker Aulë recreate Arda in all its glory again. Following this, there will be a Second Music of the Ainur. This song will sing into being a new world. Men will sing it with the Ainur. It is unknown what the fate of the old races, or of the old world, will be in the new one. Even the Ainur do not know anything of the second world or the Second Music. All the Ainur know is that the Second Music will be greater than the First Music. (Synopsis taken from Wikipedia, where you can read more about this prophecy.)
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