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Thank you to daw the minstrel for beta reading this chapter. Chapter 7: In the Halls of the Wood Elf King Elladan entered the large Hall in step with his twin, his eyes drawn to the rustic beauty of the large cavern. Signs of spring were everywhere, both outdoors and indoors. He liked how the wood elves brought nature indoors with them, and the way the caverns and their homes about the caverns blended in with the landscape. His eyes were drawn to the end of the Hall, where the King of the Woodland Realm was seated. He was a tall and powerful elf, his golden head crowned with a wreath of woodland flowers. Elladan immediately sensed that the great energy he had felt in the forest was harnessed through this person. He could not help but draw a comparison to his own father, for Elrond also wielded a great power. However, Elrond’s strength suddenly seemed more refined and directed, and Elladan decided the difference was perhaps that Thranduil used the forces of nature to enhance his own. “Ada!” Elladan’s musings were cut short by the call of the elfling as he raced up the center of the Hall to the carven stone chair where the King was seated. The elfling realized the impropriety of his behavior even before the King had cast a disapproving glance upon him, and the child dropped to his knees without slowing, and slid across the polished stone in what was probably the raciest bow ever seen in the Hall. Legolas slid to a stop with his head bowed, but was clearly peeking up at his father, for he leapt to his feet the moment the king nodded to him to rise. As Thranduil held out his arms, Legolas dove at him and was caught securely in a strong grip. Standing on his father’s thigh, he wrapped one arm about Thranduil’s neck and looked out at the audience before him. “Ada, I have prisoners! They are twins and look the same,” said Legolas proudly as he pointed at Elladan and Elrohir. “They were in a battle with orcs.” Elladan was pleased that Thranduil seemed fairly undisturbed by Legolas’s news, for that meant he was already aware of what was happening in his realm. “If I had a sword, Ada, I could have helped fight the orcs,” Legolas informed his father, a sly smile on his face as he looked at the warriors still watching him. “No swords, Legolas,” replied Thranduil automatically. “Elrohir was wounded, Ada, and I helped Meren take care of him. An orc stabbed at him. Ada, where will my prisoners stay?” “Why are they prisoners?” asked the king, his attention fully on his young son. When Legolas looked at him in confusion, he continued, “For someone to be held prisoner, he must have committed some offense against the Realm.” Legolas slid down to sit in his father’s lap, chewing his lower lip as he considered his father’s words. “Elrohir was not cooperative, Ada,” he finally answered. “Which one is Elrohir?” Legolas pointed at a dark haired elf before him. “Are you sure?” Legolas nodded. “That is the tunic I found for him.” “How do you know he did not switch tunics with his twin?” Legolas was silent again for a few moments, thinking hard, and then he pointed again at Elrohir. “He is injured and has a bandage on his stomach.” Thranduil beckoned his twin forward, and Elladan watched as Elrohir stepped forward, his face expressionless. “Lift your tunic,” ordered the king. Elrohir lifted his tunic and showed the bandage wrapped about his abdomen. Thranduil looked at Legolas. “Are you sure now that that is Elrohir?” Legolas suddenly grinned and pointed at Elladan. “Lift your tunic, Elladan.” Elladan found his anger rising again, but stepped forward and lifted his tunic as directed. He watched as Legolas’s face clouded as he saw that Elladan also had a bandage, although it was different in size and placement from Elrohir’s. Elrohir had placed a bandage over the wound to his shoulder, and then secured it by wrapping the linen over his shoulder and around his abdomen. “Ada, they tricked me!” he cried angrily. “Are you sure?” “They both have bandages now!” “Do you know that Elladan did not have a bandage on earlier?” Legolas folded his arms over his chest and glared at the twins. “No,” he admitted tersely. “They are very uncooperative.” The elves around him laughed, and Elladan turned and glowered at them. He was tired, Elrohir was tired, and he did not wish to argue with an elfling any longer. “They should go to the dungeons,” said Legolas decisively. Elladan turned back around abruptly, unable to believe what he had just heard. The dungeons? “They are your responsibility. You will have to see to their care,” said the king as he set his son on the floor. Legolas marched forward to stand in front of Elrohir, his arms crossed over his chest as he glared at the elf. “You have been uncooperative and tried to trick me. You shall go to the dungeons.” With that, Legolas grabbed the sleeve of Elrohir’s tunic and began tugging on it to make Elrohir follow him. Elladan turned from that scene back to the king, and found that Glorfindel and Rawien had stepped forward with Bregolas, and the three were relating the tale of the orc hunt. He turned back to see Elrohir moving reluctantly with Legolas, two wood elves now flanking him. Without further thought, Elladan turned to follow his twin. “You cannot take Elrohir to the dungeons,” he said to the wood elves standing on either side of Elrohir. “You can come, too,” said Legolas, not unkindly, his good humor apparently having returned. He began the walk down to the cellars, a journey he had made on only a few occasions, for he did not like the dark. One of the wood elves lit a lantern, but it cast little light. The adult wood elves trailed behind them, allowing Legolas to lead his captives. The darkness grew around them, and the sound of metal hitting metal sounded from deep in the cavern. Legolas stopped abruptly at that sound, and Elladan nearly tripped over his twin as Elrohir did also. Legolas turned to face them, and Elladan saw the fear in his eyes. The elfling ran back up the hallway a few steps, tripping over Elladan’ feet and as Elladan caught him he could feel the child’s rapidly beating heart and the near sob for a breath. Compassion overcame him, and he gathered Legolas close. “I have you, Legolas. You are not harmed,” he said softly as he hugged the little body to his chest and stroked the soft hair. He began to walk quickly back up the long passage, the guards following silently, and soon the torches and lanterns that hung from the walls of these higher passages shone their light on the little elf. Elladan tried to push Legolas slightly away from him, so the child could see the light and that he was safe, but he found his braid wound tightly in the elfling’s fist. He tried to gently pry the small fingers loose, but Legolas just buried his face in Elladan’s neck and held on tighter. A dark haired elf whom Elladan had seen earlier standing near the king appeared before them, his hand covering Legolas’s back as he leaned close to the child. “Legolas,” whispered the elf softly. Legolas responded immediately to that voice, abandoning his hold on Elladan and flinging himself into the well known comforting arms held out to him. “Lathron! There is a monster in the dungeons. I heard it,” he said tearfully. Elladan watched as the elf cuddled Legolas close, rocking him gently in his arms. “There are no monsters in the cellars, Legolas. Some of the elves preparing for tomorrow’s celebration were likely obtaining wine for the feast,” answered Lathron logically. Elladan cast a glance at his twin, now leaning tiredly against the wall but with a good natured smile back on his face. Lathron apparently noticed as well, for he asked Legolas, “What shall we do with your prisoners?” “I do not want to be responsible for them in the dungeons,” admitted Legolas. He suddenly brightened, and turned to Elladan. “You can stay in my room!” Elladan drew in a deep breath, deciding the time for diplomacy was at hand. “Legolas, Elrohir and I are very tired. We wish to rest. Perhaps we can play with you tomorrow?” Legolas grinned and clapped his hands. “Yes! I will show you my favorite tree and where the uncooperative squirrel lives and my carved animals! I am not allowed to track Tathiel anymore, because I startle her baby, but we can track outside and I can catch you, and you can be the prisoner and escape, and then catch me!” Elladan felt a smile tugging on the corners of his mouth at the child’s excitement. He slid an arm about his brother’s shoulders, pulling Elrohir upright and then saw Lathron looking at them empathetically while shaking his head. He cocked his head at the elf and raised a quizzical brow. “Both of you have been very good about playing with Legolas in his games, but truly you had no need to do so and should not have when you were both so tired and Elrohir still recovering,” said Lathron kindly, his rebuke gentle. “Guest quarters and baths have been prepared for you. Come, Legolas and I will show you to your room. Lord Glorfindel said you would prefer to eat quietly in your room and retire early. In the morning, I will escort you to the healing rooms to see your injured warrior. Camnesta, our chief healer, said Tarag is resting comfortably. He will watch him through the night.” As Lathron had been speaking, he had led them through the halls to their quarters. Elladan had barely paid attention to the direction they had gone, finding the winding halls of the cavern confusing and Lathron’s voice entirely too soothing. “Lord Glorfindel is staying in the room next door. He is meeting with the king right now, but said to tell you he would stop by to see you later.” Elladan looked at the high ceilings of the room they had entered, the walls and ceiling painted to look as if one slept in a bed of soft grasses amidst woodland flowers, a canopy of leaves rising to the sun above. A small table was set with goblets of wine and a tray of fruit, cheese and breads. In an antechamber to the side, a large bathing pool carved from the rock was filled with warm water. Clean clothing in the style of the wood elves was placed on a bench near the door, along with fluffy towels and sleeping tunics. Elrohir sank into a comfortable chair, his eyes closing as he sighed with pleasure. Elladan smiled down at his twin, glad to see Elrohir comfortable, and found he had to hold his tongue when he saw Legolas squirm down from his brother’s arms and move to stand quietly at Elrohir’s side. Small fingers touched Elrohir’s hand, and Elrohir opened his eyes. Legolas leaned over the arm of the chair to kiss Elrohir on the cheek and hug him. “Good night, Elrohir. I will see you tomorrow,” said the elfling softly, and then glowed when Elrohir hugged him back Elladan felt all his frustration over the day slide away at the wood elves’ now generous and caring treatment of his twin. He felt his hand grasped by small fingers, and scooped Legolas up in his arms. “Good night, Legolas,” he said, kissing him on the head. “Beware the morning, for I may make you my prisoner.” To his surprise, the small face lit with absolute joy and Legolas hugged him with wild abandon before Lathron pulled him loose. Bowing slightly, Lathron carried Legolas from the room, but Elladan could hear them in the hallway for a few moments before the voice faded away. “Elladan is going to play prisoner with me tomorrow, Lathron! Sadron always gets away, but I think Elladan will play right!” “I think Sadron was playing right, elfling,” answered Lathron with a laugh. “Elladan and Elrohir were very patient with you today, letting you win, but I would beware tomorrow. Your new friends will be all rested and ready to trap you. . ..” Elladan flopped down on the bed, shaking with laughter. He rolled over, nearly falling off the bed, and then stood, stripping off his dirty clothes and bandages as he walked to the bathing chamber. Elrohir had one eye partially open, watching him warily. “Fear not, brother, I am not as crazy as the wood elfling,” laughed Elladan. “It was all a game to them.” Elladan sank into the warm water and dunked his head under the water. “The child was scared upon seeing twins and his cry made the warriors throw us to the ground and grind our noses into the dirt.” Elladan lathered his hair as he spoke, and then slipped below the surface to rinse it out. “But why would that make us doubt that they were playing? I am sure the arrows that were pointed at our heads were only play, too.” His voice trailed off as he relaxed in the sudsy water. “I knew they were only playing. . ..” Elrohir snorted. He staggered to the bathing chamber and sank into the water, fully clothed. “Sure you did. Never a doubt in your mind.” He closed his eyes and sighed again, and Elladan laughed. “You, of course, knew this,” he said, and nudged Elrohir to lift his arms. He stripped off the sopping tunic and removed the sagging bandages from Elrohir’s middle. “Being only an elfling yourself, you relate well to them.” He pushed Elrohir’s head back into the water to wet his hair and then washed it with soaproot. Elrohir grinned up at him. “Am too an elfling,” he replied. “Glad you have finally accepted what Glorfindel has spent a score of centuries telling you,” said Elladan, gently cuffing Elrohir. “Finish your bath so you can go to bed. You look like something an orc would drag home.” With that, he climbed from the large tub to dry and dress. Elrohir stripped off the remainder of his clothing, his lower jaw working as if he were speaking. Finally a yawn slipped from him, followed by, “Well, then the orc would drag you home, too, twin.” He dragged himself from the bath and pulled on a night tunic, and then fell on to the sleeping couch, his eyes already closed. “Poor Elrohir,” laughed Elladan softly as he drew a light blanket up over his brother. “When that is the best reply you can make to a jest, I know you truly are tired.” Elladan ate a light meal, then crawled on to a couch and was soon fast asleep himself. * * * Glorfindel opened the door to the guest room assigned to the twins and saw them stretched out on sleeping couches. Elrohir lay on his side, curled slightly and Glorfindel supposed the still healing gash on his abdomen made other positions uncomfortable. Elladan was sprawled out on his belly, arms and legs hanging off the side of the couch. Glorfindel smiled and leaned against the stone wall of the door entrance, for in his mind he didn’t see fully grown, accomplished adult warriors, he saw elflings the size of Legolas, asleep in their beds after a day filled with mischief and curious play. He recalled how they, too, had begged for their first swords, and how they had even slept for a short while with the sheathed weapons that first night after receiving them, before Elrond had slipped them from small hands and tucked them away. They, too, had been given a new ‘rule’, about swords staying in their trunks while they slept, and he laughed quietly at how they had remembered and observed the rule. Like Legolas, they had learned fast. Like Legolas, they had been treasured and taught real life lessons by the adults around them. Perhaps someday Legolas would be the object lesson for a small child, and know how Elladan and Elrohir had felt this day! Glorfindel laughed less quietly as he recalled their looks of confusion at how the wood elves had indulged their small prince and willingly used the twins in Legolas’s play. He had wondered at what point one of them would say ‘enough!’ and end the play, and had been surprised it had lasted as long as it did. Elrohir would already have forgiven the wood elves and forgotten by morning, for that was his nature. Elladan would still be slightly miffed over the treatment of his beloved brother, and would be looking to exact some sweet revenge. Glorfindel had been on the receiving end of Elladan’s revenge many times, for Elrohir was a delight to tease and Glorfindel did so often. A slow smile spread across his face as he considered what humor the wood elves might have at Elladan’s expense should he tease their little princeling. He allowed his face to soften as he looked over the sleeping elves, for they were special to him, as like to sons as he would ever have. Sleep well, elflings, he said silently. May you discover new treasures and delights in the magic of this realm on the morrow. * * * Legolas poked his head up from the blankets and turned over, trying to see if Lathron was awake. His brother lay on his back, so it was hard to see his face. Legolas got up on his knees and bent over Lathron. Dark green eyes focused on his as Lathron smiled, and Legolas nearly jumped back in surprise. “You are awake,” he said happily. He plopped himself down on Lathron’s chest, so that their faces were nearly touching. “Can we go see if Elladan and Elrohir are awake?” “No,” answered Lathron firmly. “You are not to bother them this morning. They can sleep as long as they wish, then they will go to see Camnesta, and then Adar wishes to see them.” “Can Elladan play with me after that?” “Only if he wishes to,” replied Lathron. He kissed Legolas on the forehead, and Legolas let himself be rolled back on to the bed so his brother could stand up. Legolas sat quietly on the bed, watching as Lathron dressed and brushed and braided his hair. He really wanted to see the twins, but it was hard to get around Lathron. “Come, Legolas, let us find you some clothes and then have breakfast.” Lathron held out his hand to him, and Legolas slipped from the bed and took it. Somehow, he would make himself useful and find a reason for someone to send him to their room. * * * Thranduil watched the fear recede from Tathiel’s eyes as Bregolas added his reassurances to Rawien’s that Legolas had never been in danger. She had been asleep when Legolas had returned home, a day early from his trip, and when she had awakened to find Rawien next to her in bed, she had slipped into a robe and gone to Legolas’s room. Not finding him there, she had returned nearly frantic. “Lathron took him to his room,” Rawien had told her through his yawn, “where he could keep a close watch on the elfling.” Those words had led her to believe the child was traumatized or injured, and Rawien had to further amend his words. “Elves from Imladris returned with us, and Legolas claimed the sons of Elrond as his prisoners. In order to let them rest without an elfling watching over them, Lathron claimed Legolas for the night.” Rawien, however, had not been with Legolas when the actual battle occurred. Bregolas had been cornered the moment he walked into the dining room to explain what he had done to protect the elfling. Thranduil had nearly bit through his lip attempting not to laugh at the scene, but he could not hide the mirth in his eyes and had to look away as Tathiel faced off against Bregolas, hands on her hips with her large belly sticking out in front of her, demanding to know everything that happened. To his son’s credit, Bregolas had been calm and taken no offense at being backed into the wall by an irate pregnant elf. “I took him into the tree with me, and we stayed there until the battle was over. Between the elves of Imladris and our warriors, we greatly outnumbered the orcs. They were dispatched while still leagues from our camp,” said Bregolas. “Did he wake up? Did he know they were near?” demanded Tathiel. “No, he slept through it all. When he awoke we were just waiting for the others to rejoin us. Then he met the twins, claimed them for his own, and will likely be following them about today,” finished Bregolas. Tathiel relaxed, resting one hand on her belly and stepping back to allow Bregolas to pass by her and sit down. Thranduil hid his smile with a napkin as he saw Bregolas dismissed, and as their eyes met he saw dancing mirth in his son’s eyes as well. He wondered if Bregolas remembered many years earlier being similarly questioned, and in that case chastised, by his mother when he had allowed Celebrinduil to do something that an elfling his age should not be doing. Fortunately, Lathron and Legolas chose that moment to appear. Legolas’s face lit up as soon as he saw Tathiel, and he raced to her. “Tathiel! I am home!” exclaimed Legolas as he buried his face in her side. He stroked her belly as she kissed his head. “Hello baby elfling! Were you cooperative while I was gone?” “The baby was very good, just because you asked her to be,” replied Tathiel. “Did you enjoy your trip? Were you cooperative?” “Yes!’ answered Legolas excitedly. “There were orcs and then Elladan and Elrohir came and they were my prisoners.” A sudden sly smile covered his face, and he turned his most innocent gaze upon Tathiel. “I will take you to meet them, Tathiel. They are twins and look alike and I can tell you which is which.” Thranduil coughed lightly to hide his smile as Bregolas grimaced at Lathron, and knew that Lathron had won that bet. He wondered why Bregolas ever bet against him, for Lathron was never wrong in predicting Legolas’s behavior. “Legolas, you are not to bother the twins this morning. Not for any reason,” warned Lathron. Legolas’s face fell as his plan failed. He seemed oblivious to the fact that all the adults were trying not to smile, for they had known he would try to find legitimate reason to go to the twins’ room. The bets were not on if he would try, merely when and how. Legolas’s forehead furrowed in intense concentration as he climbed up into his chair, clearly attempting to formulate another plan that would involve his getting to see the twins, but without ‘bothering’ them. Thranduil noticed Elumeril speaking to Rawien then, and recalled that she had sent a package with him for her sister. He waited until she was done speaking and had sat down before asking her, “Elumeril, did Elenath like whatever it was you sent her?” To his surprise, Elumeril’s face flushed red and she looked at her plate rather than him as she answered. “Yes, Ada, I am sure she did.” All eyes turned to Elumeril then, and her color deepened when she realized that everyone was watching her. “Elumeril, are you well? What did you send her?” asked Thranduil, his brow furrowing as he wondered what Elumeril could send that Elenath would not like or that would cause this embarrassment. He looked from his daughter to Rawien, who sat to her left, and noted that of everyone, he was the only one not watching the child, nor did he appear curious. Thranduil studied his captain for a moment, and decided he knew whatever it was Elumeril had sent. “I am well, Ada. I just sent Elenath something from her room that she asked for. It was hers, Ada,” answered Elumeril evasively. Thranduil let the subject drop but kept his gaze on Rawien. When the captain’s eyes finally met his, the look in them was neutral, yet somehow gentle. His mind wandered as he considered what his daughter might be up to that she would involve her sister, and perhaps her head captain. “Ada.” Legolas’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Lathron said you wanted to see the twins this morning. I can take them a message from you, letting them know to come see you and where to find you. They might not know the way.” Laughter filled the room, with smiles on all faces except Legolas’s. The earnest look on his face as he waited for his father’s answer was entirely too endearing and Thranduil wondered how he would ever manage to discipline this child. He smiled at his youngest son. “No, Legolas.” * * * Elrohir awoke feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. He stood and stretched, then noticed the tray of breakfast foods on the table. His clothing had been picked up from where he had dropped it, and was cleaned and neatly folded on the chair. The rumbling of his stomach reminded him it had been long since he had eaten, and he quickly dressed before diving into the food. After satiating his initial hunger, he plucked a grape from a bowl and whipped it at Elladan’s head. The resounding wet ‘thwap’ as it hit his brother on the cheek was a welcome sound, and the annoyed expression on his twin’s face a bonus. “Get up or I am leaving you nothing to eat,” he pronounced. When Elladan merely groaned and turned over, pulling the blankets up over his head, he added, “and I will wake Glorfindel up without your help.” “He will flatten you, elfling,” reminded Elladan. “Perhaps,” replied Elrohir with a grin. “But he deserves something for doing nothing to aid us when those wood elves flattened us into the dirt.” “I will get up just to watch this,” decided Elladan. He also dressed and ate; then the two moved stealthily to the door of the room next to their own. Elrohir led the way, an air of anticipation about him. He pushed open the door silently, and could make out a form in a large bed ahead of him. He crept forward, and was just nearing the bed when he felt the rug beneath his feet move. He leapt lightly into the air, to avoid falling, but something knocked his legs forward and he landed hard on his backside on the stone floor. The jarring pain knocked his breath from him, and before he could react, he was flipped on to his stomach and held down by a large foot in the middle of his back. He gasped for air, grateful when his lungs finally expanded. With a slight groan he turned his head to the side and closed his eyes in resignation when he saw the golden hair hanging down in front of his face and felt warm breath on his ear “You are a predictable elfling,” whispered Glorfindel. The sound of Elladan laughing behind him did not help his bruised backside or his bruised ego. The foot planted between his shoulder blades departed, and he carefully sat up. When he finally dared to open his eyes, he looked into the grinning faces of his twin and Glorfindel. “Good morning, Elrohir,” said Glorfindel brightly as he held a hand out to Elrohir. “Did you sleep well?” Elrohir glared for a moment at them both, but accepted the hand up and found himself folded into an embrace. “I expected you to fall when I pulled the rug, not jump and then fall so hard,” said Glorfindel, in a pseudo apology. “I fully intended to bury your face into the floor,” grumbled Elrohir, but he accepted the comforting embrace and his usual smile returned to his face. He flopped on to Glorfindel’s bed, landing in the mass of pillows he had thought was Glorfindel, as the golden elf returned to his breakfast. “You were not very helpful yesterday, either.” “You scared their little prince,” answered Glorfindel logically. “When I entered the camp everyone was smiling, so there was little point in intervening.” “I do not recall smiling,” growled Elladan. “But, then, my face was ground into the dirt, making most facial expressions difficult.” Glorfindel only laughed. “Legolas adores you. Everyone here adores him. By simple mathematical principle, you are now adored by everyone here. It was truly a great diplomatic move on both of your parts to indulge the child.” Elrohir grinned then. “I believe Elladan made a date to play with him again today. Truly, brother, this may be the simplest diplomatic mission you have ever been part of. Glorfindel must speak to the king and his councilors, but you have only to play with an elfling.” Elladan arched a brow at him. “And what part do you intend to play?” Elrohir doubled over, as if in pain. “I am clearly still recovering and must spend my days being pampered and waited upon.” “Ah,” a voice interrupted them from the doorway. “Our little Legolas is most helpful in the tending of wounds and providing aid to the injured. He would enjoy being your constant companion as you recovered.” Elrohir looked at the smiling face of the dark haired elf who had just entered the room and could not decide if he was serious or jesting. “I am Camnesta, chief healer to the king. Tarag has spent the night in my care and is doing well this morning. I have come to escort you to him, but I think I shall have a look at you, Elrohir, to ensure your wounds are healing well.” “I am quite well,” protested Elrohir, but the elf pushed him back on the bed and Elrohir knew immediately that it was likely even the king of the realm did not argue with this healer. He could feel the power in the gentle hands. He immediately thought of his father and the healing power harnessed within him. Camnesta’s power was similar, yet was different in ways Elrohir could not explain. His tunic was pushed up and the wound examined, and he could feel a tingling sensation where those fingers touched him. “You will come with me to the healing rooms to be treated,” announced Camnesta. “That flesh wound should be healed and yet still it weeps. I wish to see what poison antidotes you use.” He pulled Elrohir’s tunic down and turned a paternal glare on him. “You must cease this rough play and not be thrown to the floor until that wound is fully healed.” Elrohir nearly rebelled under the chastisement. He turned his glare on Glorfindel, who merely laughed at him. Glorfindel would tell him he started the rough play. Taking the hand Camnesta held out to him, he allowed himself to be pulled to his feet and obediently followed the healer from the room, Elladan’s and Glorfindel’s laughter fading behind him. * * * * * |
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