The Last Homely House
Chapter Four

Rating: PG
Category: Humour, Drama, AU
Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Haldir/Rabbit, Legolas/Gimli
Warnings: Slash (means: two male Elves in some kind of love) Mpreg
Summary: A clumsy twin. Mirkwoodian family dramas. A strange encounter for Erestor, and a real mean cliffhanger. "By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes ..."

Elladan sat on the large swing under the ornate wooden gazebo, watching his brother walk with Amrun, feeling decidedly jealous of both of them. Elrohir, for his newly-budding romance, and Amrun for being with his brother. For the first time in his life, his brother was paying attention to someone else, and Elladan was uncertain how he felt about that. Certainly he did not begrudge him the right to a lover; he just wished he had someone as well. He sighed irritably, knowing he was being childish, but did not know what to do about it. Suddenly his very long hair caught on something and yanked. Swearing quietly, he untangled it.

“Wonderful,” he muttered, “Elladan the Klutz strikes again.”

From several yards away, Orophin watched the young Elf get his hip-length hair under control. He liked Elladan, but did not know if he dared approach him. The son of Elrond was very young; although he was by no means a child, he was not exactly an adult either. He had an endearing awkwardness about him that Arwen and Elrohir had long ago shed. Elladan it seemed still had some growing to do.

Orophin tried to hold back a smile as Elladan somehow managed to get his hair caught in the chain holding up the swing. He turned to loose it, then slipped and got his robe caught on the swing. Elladan was stuck.

“Fear not, I shall save you,” said Orophin as he walked towards the tangled youth. “Been practicing our dance lessons, have we?”

Elladan yanked hard at the sleeve, and it came free with a tearing sound. Standing, he untangled his hair himself, then glared at the Galadhel.

“I need not your assistance nor your derision.”

Orophin stopped. The youth was angry and embarrassed. He bowed slightly. “My apologies. I meant no harm.”

“No of course you did not, no one ever does. Do you think me deaf? Or thick? ‘Elladan the Graceful’, that is one name I hear. ‘Elladan the Butcher’, is another. I may have inherited none of my father and mother’s Elven grace, but I do have their hearing.”

“These names have not been uttered by me.”

“And what did you say to me just now?”

Orophin stared back at him with a perfectly straight face. “I asked if you had been practicing your dance lessons.”

Elladan looked as though he would like to kick Orophin where it would do the most damage. Gathering as much dignity as he could manage, he stepped down from the swing, slipped, and felt flat on his face.

He did not actually knock himself out, but he was certainly stunned. He felt Orophin carefully pick him up and set him on the step. It was a few moments before the stars cleared.

“Ouch,” he stated.

Orophin took the end of his cloak and carefully dabbed at the blood spilling from Elladan’s nose. “I am afraid you broke it, child.”

That remark was enough to clear the cobwebs. “I broke by dose?”

“Rather badly,” said Orophin.

He expected Elladan to get angry. He was not prepared for him to tear up. “I broke by dose! Do all da Balar hade be?”

Orophin pulled him close. “Elladan, the Valar do not hate you.”

“I am a clumsy oap.”

“No you are not an oaf. You are clumsy, but you are no oaf.” He peered at the broken nose. “You certainly smacked yourself. Come along, I shall take you to your Ada.”

Elladan tried to stand, but his legs would not hold him. Orophin picked him up and began carrying him towards the castle. Elladan closed his eyes and wished he had a bag to pull over his head.

“I beel like such a bool.”

“There is no need to feel like a fool. We have all done ridiculous things.”

“Bud I do id all da dime!” Elladan wailed.

Orophin had to pause and wait to stop laughing, lest he drop Elladan. Finally he got himself under control. Still snickering, he carried Elladan into the castle to the healing rooms.

Elrond met them there, having apparently heard that his son was injured. By the time Elladan reached the healing room, his eyes were black and swollen almost shut. He looked as though he had taken a blow from a troll-hammer.

Elrond took Elladan’s face between his hands and stared at the injury. “Child what happened to you?”

Elladan did not want to tell his father he had just fallen head-first down a two-step gazebo. He was trying to think of a way to say it without it sounding so foolish when Orophin spoke up.

“It is my fault, my Lord. We were sparring and I caught him with the flat of my blade.”

Elrond turned abruptly to face him. “You did this?”

“I am very sorry my Lord.”

Elrond seemed to become a foot taller as he swelled with wrath. “You smacked my baby with a sword?!”

‘Well this was not one of my better ideas,’ thought Orophin as Elrond stared daggers at him.

“Wait in the hall. I shall deal with you presently.”

Orophin bowed, then stepped out. Elrond turned back to his son.

“Now let me look…”

“Ada… do nod be mad ad Oropin.”

“Well why not? Look at what he has done to you!”

“He did nod do id.”

“What do you mean, ‘he did not do it’?”

“I bell ob da gazebo.”

Elrond had to think for a moment about what Elladan had just said. “You… fell?”

“Ob da gazebo.”

Understanding suddenly came to Elrond. “And he did not want you to look like a fool in Thranduil’s house.”

Elladan nodded. Elrond smiled. “All right then, I shall not hurt him. But really Elladan, I do not understand how you manage to injure yourself doing the smallest things.”

“Da Balar hade be.”

“The Valar do not hate you.” Elrond kissed his son on the brow, then set about repairing his nose.

***---***

Glorfindel reached the edge of Mirkwood. The rain fell in a heavy grey curtain, quickly soaking him. He dismounted the horse Thranduil had lent him, and called for Ithil. The large black horse came up to him, his glossy coat gleaming with water. Glorfindel climbed onto his back, then told the other horses to follow Thranduil’s horse back to the castle. As night began setting on what was already the third day of his journey, he knew in his heart he was not going to arrive in time.

***---***

Gimli arrived at Erestor’s office at his usual time, and was puzzled when he opened the door and did not see him at his desk. At first he thought perhaps he had stepped out for something, but as he looked more closely, he realized that Erestor had not yet been in. Closing the door, Gimli walked down the hall to the advisor’s room. He tapped at the door, then opened it.

Erestor was still in bed. Gimli quietly walked over to the Elf, and spoke his name softly. Erestor raised his head and looked at him.

“Oh, Gimli. Is it morning?”

“Yes. Are you not well?”

“I am… very tired today. I do not think I will be up for a while.”

“Do you wish for me to send for Rúmil?”

Erestor put his head down and pulled the covers a little higher. “No, I am fine. I just need to sleep.”

“Very well. Sleep then. I shall return in a while to look in on you.”

Erestor nodded, and slid back into sleep. Gimli was a little disturbed by this, and made up his mind to go ask Rabbit about it. He left Erestor, and made his way to the kitchen, which seemed to be where they spent all their time these days.

He entered the warm room, smelling of tea and fresh-baked scones. Rhimlan greeted him.

“Good morn to you, Gimli. Has Master Erestor sent you for his usual frog’s feet and chocolate?”

“Nay,” said Gimli as he sat down. Mauburz poured him some tea. “He is still in bed. He wishes only to sleep.”

Rabbit had been lounging near the cooking fire, Bramble close beside him. He raised his head. “Erestor is still sleeping?”

“Yes. Why?”

“His time is very near, then. Today, perhaps tomorrow. He is mustering his strength.”

“Oh jolly,” said Gimli. “And neither Lord Elrond nor Glorfindel are back. I am not sure we can help him.”

“I am here,” said Rabbit. “I have done this before.”

Rhimlan grinned. “I am quite looking forward to this! I rather like babies.”

“Mauburz never guess Rhimlan like babies. He only have eight!”

“Eight?” said Gimli. “That is quite a clan!”

Rhimlan smiled and shrugged, not bothering to mention he would most likely never see any of them again. “Do you have children?”

“Nay, not likely to either.” He thought for a moment. “I hope.” He looked at Rabbit, who smiled.

“Fear not, Gimli. Legolas is a pure-blooded Wood-Elf. He will give you no surprises.”

“We let us be thankful for that,” said Rhimlan. “I am not certain the world is ready for the offspring of a Dwarf and an Elf.”

“That be ugly baby,” said Mauburz.

“I can think of uglier!” said Gimli. “Or not uglier, perhaps, but definitely unfortunate. An Elf and a Halfling.”

Rhimlan looked thoughtful. “It would either be a very fair little Halfling, or an Elf with the biggest feet ever.”

Rúmil walked in as the group were laughing. He squeezed the rain out of his hair, and, shivering, poured himself some tea.

“I am sorry to end such merriment with foul news,” he said. “The road to Mirkwood is out. The river has over-flowed and covered it deep with muddy water.”

“That is bad news indeed,” said Rhimlan. “Rabbit feels that Erestor will deliver tonight or tomorrow.”

“Then one can but hope Glorfindel can fly,” said Rúmil, “for he will not make it here otherwise.” He seated himself, keeping one eye on Rabbit. They seemed to have reached a truce of sorts, but that did not mean Rabbit did not periodically fly at him just to corner and frighten him.

Rabbit however seemed to be half-dreaming, eyes closed, listening to the rain. He yawned, then pushed himself up. Rising to his feet, he shook his hair, then stretched, yawning again.

“I shall hunt,” he said. Bramble climbed onto Rúmil’s lap as Rabbit passed out of the room like a looming shadow.

He stepped into the pouring rain, feeling it soak him, running off his shoulders and down his body in little rivers. He scented the wet, steaming buck almost immediately, and began moving in its direction, careful to not let it track his scent. He was almost in range, preparing to leap upon it and break its neck, when something brought him up short. He tensed, listening. Near by the deer did as well. Both wild creatures held stone still. Then suddenly both broke and ran.

Rabbit bounded into the house, the carpet skidding beneath his feet as he raced wildly for the kitchen. He said nothing as he snatched his daughter from Rúmil, then kicked the kitchen window out.

“Run,” he said, and leapt out the window.

The little group did not pause to question. Gimli and Mauburz picked Rhimlan up and shoved him out the window, then leapt out themselves, Rúmil following last. Rabbit had already leapt down to the lower path and was moving as fast as he could across the bridge. As they followed him, they heard the mud-and-rock slide began rushing towards them. By the time they reached the bridge as well, the kitchen they had been in but moments before was gone.

“We must go back for Erestor!” Gimli shouted above the noise.

Rabbit watched the slide move relentlessly down the cliff. “How? We are cut off!”

“If we don’t go back for him, the cliff could crumble even more and crush the rest of the house!”

Rabbit passed Bramble to Mauburz. “Find someplace safe and wait for me.” Then he was gone.

***---***

“Erestor.”

“Mph. Go ‘way. Sleep.”

“Awake, little Duevenel.”

Erestor did not want to awaken. He did not want to do anything. Finally he forced one eye open and stared grumpily at the Elf seated on his bed.

He was tall, and quite slight, even for an Elf. He was almost fragile-looking, and his skin was cold white. But what struck Erestor were the eyes; they were fathomless, wise, and blue as the ocean. The strange Elf touched his hair softly, then said; “You cannot stay here.”

Erestor’s normal reaction to that statement would have been to demand full reasoning for why he could not stay in his own bed. This time, however, he did not think questioning was a good idea. The thought came to him that this Elf was speaking the truth.

He sat up, befuddled by sleep, and confused. He pulled a robe on, then began gathering up his quilts and pillows. Finally pulling on his blue cloak, he left the chamber, following the tall Elf down the corridor towards the Great Hall. He did not question why the Elf did not help him carry the bedding, nor did he think to wonder why he made no noise when he walked. He followed, going into the silent and empty Hall. Once there, he put the quilts down on a chair and looked around.

“Why are we here?” he asked, and turned to look at the strange Elf.

There was no one there. Erestor was alone. He suddenly felt a cold chill run through himself, and he heard the quiet moan of the wind making its serpentine way down the hall. Then the entire house shook.

He sat down hard, clutching one of the great heavy chairs. He listened as the farthest end of the house was crushed and ground to nothing beneath the rockslide. Frightened, he waited for the noise to die down. Then he carefully stood up. Leaving the Hall, he walked into the corridor. Leaning over the balcony, he could just see the debris of the far end of the house being washed away.

“The cliff is giving away,” said a soft voice, and he turned to see the pale Elf before him. “But you will be safe here. Come, set yourself up a bed in the far end of the Hall.”

“But Rabbit! And Mauburz… Who are you?”

“Later, little Duevenel.”

Once more, Erestor felt that odd, befuddled feeling come over him. He quietly complied, piling seat cushions on the floor, then putting his quilts and pillows on them. Covering himself with his blue cloak, he lay down. Soon he was asleep again.

***---***

The bedraggled group made their way to the only place they could; a small cottage that had been for the private use of Galadriel and Celeborn when they came to visit their daughter and grandchildren. It had not been used in some time, but had been kept in a state of readiness. Mauburz put Bramble down on the large bed, then helped Rhimlan to lay down. He was in considerable pain, but said nothing, glad to finally be safe. Gimli began lighting a fire while Rúmil looked out into the rain.

“I should be out with Rabbit,” he said.

Rhimlan looked towards the younger Elf. “Rabbit knows what he is doing. He will find Erestor. And as much as it grieves me to say this, he is better able to do so than we mere Wood-Elves. Rock and water are his domain. He will find a way around the slide.”

“But…”

“Rúmil, close the door. It will help no one if you are washed away.”

Rúmil stared for a little longer at the rain and mud. Finally he nodded, and closed the door.

***---***

Elladan sat on the swinging chair, staring at a book. He was trying to read it, but found he could not concentrate. Sighing, he put it down, then realized Elrohir was beside him. He reached up to touch his brother’s bruised face.

“Dear Elladan, why do you do this to yourself?”

“I did not plan it!”

“No?” Elrohir had a glint in his eye. “You nearly threw yourself into Orophin’s arms!”

“You must not have been watching very closely. I missed.”

“You need not throw yourself at him, he has had his eye on you since he and Rúmil arrived from the Havens.”

“I do not fancy males.”

“From what I have seen, you do not fancy females, either.”

“And what is that to you?”

“Nothing. I would just know why you wish to live your life a black-eyed virgin.”

“And how wouldst thou like to be rendered a black-eyed trollop?”

“I dare thee!”

Elladan smiled. “Elrohir, you need not concern yourself with me. I am content.”

“But why Elladan? Why do you isolate yourself? I do not understand. Do you recall the mortal girl who was a friend of Arwen’s? She loved you, yet you ignored her so long she found another. At first I thought you did not wish to see her grow old and perish. But then another young lady, this one Elvish, fell for you, and still you did not respond. So I thought perhaps you fancied only males. But Orophin of the Galadhrim tries for your affections now, and you pay him no more heed than you did the ladies.”

“If I do not fall for Orophin’s charms then I must be mad, is that it? Well you are the pretty one, if it does your heart good you may have him, and let he and Amrun fight for you. I have no urge to fall in love and be left with my heart in pieces.”

“Well what makes you think he would leave you?”

Elladan paused, thinking long on what he had just said. “I do not know,” he said softly. “Yet for many years, it has been a shadow on my heart. I do fear being alone, I fear it so greatly I think perhaps in some way I do myself these injuries without meaning, only to gain attention. Yet when I have it, I fear it more than loneliness.” He looked at his brother with black-ringed eyes. “I am destined to be a black-eyed virgin, it would seem.”

Elrohir kissed his brow. “That is all right, Ada and I shall always love you. And I shall valiantly take on your suitors, so they may trouble you no more.”

“Oh how kind and sacrificing of you, to suffer such a fate for your mad brother!”

“Oh I know, the generosity of the Valar themselves flows from my bosom.”

“I will not speculate upon what comes out of your mouth, but it has a familiar stable-like odor.”

Elrohir laughed, then kissed him again. “You need never fear being alone, Elladan. You are not only my brother, you are my dearest friend. I will not leave you. And Ada seems to have something of an attachment for you as well.”

Elladan smiled, but his expression became thoughtful. “Do you suppose mother still loves us? Do you think she recalls us now and then?”

“I cannot speculate on that. I know her torture at the hands of the Orcs so tormented her that she could bear to look at nothing that reminded her of the time she was captured.”

“Yes, well, that would be us.”

“We were children, Elladan, it was not our fault.”

“No? I wonder. Had she not had us with her, she could have escaped.”

“And how were any of us to know a party of orcs was in the area? We may as well blame the trees they hid behind, or the sun for shining and tempting her into its warmth. I do not fully understand why she left us, but I do not believe it was because she blamed us for being caught. And even if she did, she was wrong. There was nothing you and I could have done to change matters any. Even had you and I been home, who is to say she would have then been able to flee? No, I will not bear that weight, nor should you. We were in the Havens, thee and I, and Ada, we all tried to see her. Even Arwen’s letter telling of her marriage went unseen and unanswered. I grieve for her, and I mourn her absence, but she will not force me into a shadowed life of blame. While she lives we may yet again all be together, and I hope for that. Her suffering has locked her in a prison of her own design. Do not lock yourself up with her.”

Elladan looked down at his book. “I will think on this,” he said softly.

Elrohir smiled. “Do not think over-long, or Orophin may not wait for you. Or do you really not fancy him?”

Elladan smiled, then glanced at his brother. “Well he is not without a certain inarticulate charm. At the very least, having fallen on my head provided me with the longest conversation possibly ever held with him.”

“You mean speaking, as opposed to grunting and growling.”

“Real words and everything.”

“Well there you go, brother, you see? The Valar do love you.”

***---***

Lord Elrond met Legolas at his door, allowing the nervous young Elf to take his arm.

“I thank you for coming,” he said as they began walking down the hall.

“Not at all,” said Elrond. “This evening will be hard enough for you without the added torment of siblings.”

“That is true enough.” He held the Elven Lord’s arm a little more tightly.

The door to Veet’s room was pulled open as they reached it, but Veet was brought up short as she saw whom Legolas was with. She hid the long pink petticoat behind her back and tried to look innocent as they passed. Lord Elrond pretended to ignore her, but smiled slightly. Legolas glanced over his shoulder at her and stuck his tongue out, then looked back towards Elrond.

“I may be banned from this house forever after tonight.”

“I must confess, had one of my children come home with a Dwarf, I would not be pleased. But I cannot see Thranduil banning you from his house.”

“Ada can be very… harsh… when displeased.”

Elrond agreed, but said nothing. “You may dwell with me as long as it pleases you. Both you and Gimli have endured much for the welfare of others. Personally, I feel that gives you the right to love whomever you please.”

“I do love him, strange as he is to me at times, and, I dare say, as unlovely as he is. But his heart is more fair and more strong than all my father’s white gems.”

“It takes a wise heart to see such things, Legolas. Gimli is indeed a fair companion for you.” He smiled. “However odd the two of you look together.”

“Yes, well, I suspect we look even odder making love, but it works.”

”That, my dear child, has just placed an image in my mind I shall quite likely spend many years attempting to erase.”

“I could expound,” Legolas said, his eyes glinting.

“No, thank you.”

They reached the dining hall. It was more rustic than the one at Imladris, but not without warmth. The rough-hewn walls were hung with tapestries, and the stone floor strewn with rugs. Thranduil’s three large hunting dogs cracked bones by the great stone hearth, and the room was filled with a warm glow.

Legolas reluctantly released Elrond’s arm and seated himself at his father’s right hand. Veet and Liritar descended moments later, Liritar seating herself next to Elrond.

Thranduil gave his son an amused look. “So you finally managed to make it to dinner dressed in your own clothes.”

Legolas reached for the wine before he had even a bite of food. “Yes, well, it was bound to happen.”

“Once but never again,” muttered Veet.

“We shall see,” said Legolas quietly. He looked at the food set before him, and smiled. He picked up a steamed crayfish and showed it to Haldir. “Rabbit would be horrified.”

Haldir smiled. Thranduil looked at his son and said, “Who is this Rabbit? Does he not care for crayfish?”

“If I may, King Thranduil,” said Haldir, “Rabbit is my lover. He cares for crayfish very much, though he prefers them raw.”

“Odd behavior for a Wood-Elf.”

“He is no Wood-Elf, your Majesty. He is a Mordorian Plains-Elf.”

“I have never heard of such a being. He is not evil?”

“Fell, and feral,” said Elrond, “but not foul. He is of tremendous age. When he was born, Mordor was not yet Mordor, and even the great Ents had yet to awaken.”

“I should like to meet such an Elf.”

“If you can find him,” said Elrohir, “He is more ghost than Elf.”

Legolas laughed. “Unless he is baying beneath your window. I recall one night, Gimli and I had only just retired to bed, and…”

Too late Legolas realized what he had said. The entire room went very quiet. Elrond glanced at Thranduil, and his expression put him in mind of one who has been struck with a hammer. Thranduil forced down his mouthful of venison, and said; “’Gimli’?”

“Yes, Father,” said Legolas softly.

“That I believe is a Dwarfish name.”

“That would be because he is a Dwarf, Father.”

Elrond fought the urge to grab his sons and flee before the roof fell in upon them. Thranduil tried with a great strength of will to control the rage that threatened to tear him apart.

“Your hidden lover is… a… Dwarf.”

“Yes, Father.”

“I should like you to end this romance.”

“I cannot.” Legolas was afraid, but he looked his father in the eye as he spoke. “I have bound with him.”

Elrond watched Thranduil with great concern. Something was plainly wrong with him, more so than the extreme anger that must have been consuming him. Suddenly he turned a deathly pallor and gasped. Then he fell off his chair and struck the floor.

“You killed Ada!” yelled Veet.

Legolas stared, shocked, unable to respond. Elrond knelt down beside Thranduil. “This is very odd. I have seen this in Men, but never in an Elf! Fear not Legolas, your father shall live, I know what to do.”

“What has happened to him?” asked Liritar.

Elrohir helped his father to lift the large Elf. As they were about to take him to the healing rooms, Elrond said; “He has had a heart attack.”

***---***

Erestor sat up suddenly, sensing something was not right. He tried to think how he had come to be alone in a corner of the Great Hall, when he was distracted by the ominous rumbling sound of mud and stone rushing down the cliff. There was a great pounding, then a crash, and the house shuddered as though with fear and pain. Only a portion of The Last Homely House stood now; the Great Hall in which Erestor cowered.

He shivered with fear, then gasped as he felt a strange clutching pain, as though a great hand had squeezed him. It was not a very bad pain, and the feeling did not last long, but he suddenly and with great clarity understood his situation. He was going to have a child, and he was going to do it alone.

“Fin I will strangle you, I swear I will!” said Erestor. But his voice was full of fear, no matter what his words.

The Hall was very dark, and after a while, the sound of the mudslide stilled, and he heard only the relentless rain drumming down upon the roof. Erestor began to feel very thirsty, and he carefully picked himself up to search for a vessel to drink from. There was only one cup he could find: a great heavy golden thing that had once belonged to Gil-galad. It sat on a shelf beside the standard Elrond had once carried as his herald.

He eyed the thing, wondering what the penalty would be for losing or damaging it. Finally he picked it up and walked slowly and carefully into the corridor. He could see now how the slide had cut through the house, cleaving it like a loaf of bread. Had he been in his own room, he realized, he would have been killed.

Erestor filled the gold cup with the water running from the roof, telling himself that if the roof was not clean after weeks of heavy rainfall, it never would be. He drank, then refilled the cup. He was about to return to his makeshift bed, when he heard an eerie baying that made the hair on the back of his neck rise. It was a hoarse, rising call, ending in a questioning noise. He looked in the direction of the cry, but saw nothing beyond rain and mist.

“What on earth was that?” he asked softly. He felt oddly compelled to make the strange noise himself. “Don’t be a fool, Erestor,” he told himself, “You could not make that sound if your life depended on it.”

“It may,” said a soft voice. Erestor looked, but saw no one. He listened again, but heard only the rain, and, after a moment, that haunting, rising howl.

“Oh this is nonsense. I cannot do that!” He paused, feeling foolish. Then he called.

He was quite taken aback by the noise that came out of himself, the same hoarse, rising note. Then he suddenly understood who was calling him.

“Rabbit!”

A dim, black figure appeared, far below where he stood. The figure was shrouded by mist, but Erestor knew it was Rabbit.

“I shall return with the others,” he said. “We will try to get you down.”

Erestor watched him go, then lowered his head and braced himself against the clutching pain that once more grasped him. He waited for it to pass, then returned to his bed. He settled himself on the pillows and quilts, sipping his water and hoping Rabbit would return soon.

***---***

Rabbit entered the cottage, soaked. It was dark now; he had been gone much of the day. Bramble ran to him, and he picked her up.

“I have found Erestor,” he said. “He is in the Great Hall. But I do not know how to reach him.”

“Can we not circle around the debris and use the front steps?” asked Gimli.

“There are no front steps. A second slide has destroyed much of the house, and taken the steps with it. There is no way to reach the hall without coming down the cliff or climbing up over a great pile of mud, stone and debris. I do not know how long he will be safe there.”