The Last Homely House
Chapter Nineteen

Rating: NC-17
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: Frost and Elrohir discuss trust, Miss Goose talks Lindir into something, and Ilinuil has his bath ruined.
Notes: There is an illustration for this chapter of Frost and Elrohir together, drawn by the lovely Pira.

Amaris arrived just in time to see Ilinuil’s drunken form being dragged off by a pair of guards. He looked from Ilinuil to Elrond, then asked; “What has happened?”

Elrond told Amaris of the entire incident. “I have instructed my guards to lock him into the newly constructed rooms until I can decide what to do with him.”

Amaris was dumbfounded, unable to move. The gentle Elf he had spent the afternoon with was the child of a Nazgûl? “Lord Elrond there must be some mistake, Ilinuil is not evil!”

“I do not think he is either, but this is a matter for discussion, I cannot decide for all of Imladris whether to let him remain. There is much in his favour, and I know of no foul thing he has done. But I will not permit the child of a Nazgûl to live here without consulting my people.”

“Permit me to stay with him, to care for him. He is powerful, but has his frailties. I know a little more about him than you. Let me be his keeper.”

“Amaris, you know I cannot let you take sole custody of him. You may stay with him if you wish. But the doors shall be locked, and there will be a guard posted at all times.”

Amaris nodded. “Very well. That is fair enough compromise for now.” Amaris turned and followed the guards. The Elrond turned and stared at Gaelemir.

“Gaelemir, I have heard some disturbing things about you.”

Gaelemir glanced towards Frost. He was walking away from the dining table, accompanied by Elrohir. Rabbit however came to stand face to face with him.

“You dare pursue my child when you are already bound to another? You come back into his life after centuries apart, claiming to wish to renew your friendship with him and you DARE to do this?”

Gaelemir deeply resented being dressed down by this rangy, shaggy individual. “What I do is my own business.”

“Not when it comes to Frost.”

“Be gone, Hell-Elf! I do not answer to rabble!”

Rabbit lunged for Gaelemir’s face. There was an audible snapping of teeth, and Gaelemir felt fine specks of saliva strike his flesh. Elrond had managed to catch Rabbit, and spare Gaelemir gross disfigurement, if not death. Haldir felt his bile rise as he saw Rabbit instinctively turn to the one holding him back, but the expected disaster did not happen. Rabbit caught himself, and backed away, respecting the Elf-Lord who had given his people a place to live.

Rabbit turned to look at Gaelemir. “Mind thy tongue, or I shall make thee as ugly on the outside as thou art on the inside.”

Gaelemir sneered at Rabbit. “Then thou wouldst be labeled a kinslayer, and banished to a life of shame and exile.”

Rabbit gave Gaelemir a slight, cold smile. It sent shivers down the backs of all who saw it. The yellow eyes narrowed. “I am a Plains-Elf, and a true child of this land. You are an immigrant, and a Wood-Elf. Thou art no kin of mine.” Then Rabbit turned and walked away, followed by Haldir.

“I would like to have his guts for that remark,” said Haldir.

Rabbit put an arm around him. “He is beneath you, my love.” He kissed Haldir’s face. “Let us claim Bramble from Mistress Straggler and go home.”

***---***

“Mauburz, dearest…”

“No!”

“Open the door, please.”

“NO!”

“Mauburz…” said Fin tiredly.

“NO WANT MEET ECTHELION! ME HEAR PLENTY ABOUT HIM!”

“He will not harm you. Please. I only want you to mind Estorel while Erestor and I go tell Elrond he is here. Besides, he would love to meet you.”

“Yeah me just bet he would! Me hear all about what he do to great-great-great… not sure how many greats… grandfather Gorbag the Naggler! Okay him maybe stoopid Orc but nobody deserve get head stuck on pike then shoved up butt!”

Glorfindel blinked in surprise. “That was your grand-ada?”

Mauburz opened the door and studied the blind warrior. “You stuff great grandfather’s head up butt?”

“Well Ecthelion would never do that, he was more interested in quantity rather than making a statement.”

“What the statement? ‘Glorfindel have too much time on hands’?”

“Er, something like that. Please, Mauburz. Just for a little while. I swear to you, Ecthelion will not harm you.”

Mauburz considered, then stepped out. She was a huge, imposing figure, black and fierce-looking, with long black hair and broad shoulders. She probably tipped the scales at around three hundred pounds, and it was all muscle. She made Ecthelion look like an Elfling, but it was plain she feared him.

“Mae Govannen, Mistress Straggler,” he said.

Erestor stepped forward and passed Mauburz the basket Estorel was sleeping in. “We will not be gone long,” he said.

She peered down at the tiny Elfling, and Ecthelion felt his hackles go up. He was not certain he could trust an Orc with a child.

“Fin,” he said in Elvish, “is this a good idea?”

Mauburz glared at him, and stunned the great warrior by answering in his own tongue. “It’s all right, me just put him between two pieces of bread and have sandwich.”

“Very humorous,” said Erestor. He gave her a quick kiss. “We will be back before long.”

Ithilian linked his arm through Ecthelion’s. “It’s all right, Mauburz is a dear friend.”

Ecthelion was plainly unconvinced, but allowed himself to be led away. The last thing he heard as Mauburz went into her shop and closed the door was; “You kids settle down! No need cover Syrith in syrup!”

“What if she recalls that she is an Orc?” he asked.

“She knows she’s an Orc,” said Glorfindel. “She just happens to be the only vegetarian Orc in Arda.”

***---***

Elrond watched his guards carry away Ilinuil, slipping an arm around Rúmil. “I cannot believe such a thing is possible. More than that, I cannot believe that the Elf who was not fathered by a Nazgûl is the one what has behaved so shamefully.”

Suddenly Firespark ran up. He stopped, then looked around, finally turning towards Lord Elrond. “I am sorry for disturbing you, your Lordship. Have you seen Shaman Frost?”

“I believe he just went to the tent he is sharing with my son. What is it you need?”

“Fox Hunting is gone from the village. We are all searching for him, but with so many folk around, the scents are muddled. We do not know where he went.”

“You do not think he was captured, do you?” asked Rúmil.

“Nay, the tracks lead to the encampment. Fade thinks he may be seeking someplace to bear his children.”

“But you have a birthing place, why would he seek another?” asked Elrond.

Firespark shook his head. “’Tis an old instinct, and hard for some to ignore; the need to find a safe place to bear one’s children. Some of us who are to bear for the first time do go elsewhere.”

“We will help you look, Firespark. Go speak with your Shaman. Rúmil, take Rabbit and your brothers and begin searching the area near the village. I shall organize other groups.” He gently touched Rúmil’s face. “I am sorry my love, I have not even had the chance to tell of our future binding ceremony. Ai, what else can happen this eve?”

He turned towards the barracks, and collided with an Elf in gold and crystal armor, his long black hair loose.

“Hello Rondy, did you miss me?”

***---***

“Lindir, if you are tired, you may go bed.”

Lindir shook his head. “I am not tired Mr. Faramir.”

“You may call me Faramir. We are friends after all.”

Lindir smiled. They had spent the entire evening seeking Fox, but now as the day threatened to break, it was plain the young Elf was weary. He was not used to such long hours, but was determined to assist with the search.

“Well, maybe I will go to bed soon. But I want to help a little more first.”

“Very well. Now, let us try to be logical about this. We have looked high and low and found nothing. So let us try to think like a Plains Elf. Where would I go to have a child?”

“Are you going to have a baby too?”

“No Lindir, I am thinking.”

Lindir brushed a bit of dirt off of Miss Goose. “I would go to the Hobbit settlement.”

Faramir snapped his head towards Lindir. “What makes you say that?”

“Because Mr. Haldir said when Rabbit had Bramble, he went all over Imladris until he found a room that was dark and partly underground, like a den. The Hobbits have their settlement set up sorta that way. Maybe Fox is looking for the same kind of place.”

Faramir smiled. “Lindir, you’re a genius. Come on.”

The Elf and Man reached the Halfling’s encampment to see the Hobbits gathered outside a tent they recognized as Pippin’s.

“Is he in there?” asked Faramir softly.

Pippin nodded. “He showed up about an hour ago, just as I was getting up.”

“Is anyone in there with him?”

“No, he’s alone.”

Faramir looked towards the tent, his expression thoughtful. “I wonder if he would let us watch?” he said softly, more to himself than anyone.

“Let us?!” said Merry. “I wouldn’t if he invited us!”

“Then do me a favour,” said Faramir. “Go and let the others know we have located him.”

Merry nodded and headed off in search of the others.

***---***

Frost walked into the tent, distraught and angry. He and Elrohir had spent most of the night searching for Fox, to no avail. Coupled with Gaelemir’s betrayal, the Plains-Elf was in a very foul frame of mind. He flung himself face-first onto his bed, not trusting himself to speak. Gaelemir had been a friend, a good friend. There had been many times over the years Frost had missed his companionship. Now he learned he had been grossly betrayed, even lied to. And not for the first time: Star and Hannilgil had done much the same.

Frost raised his head and looked at Elrohir, who was seated on his own bed, looking nervous and concerned. Frost narrowed his eyes at the young Elf, wondering how long it would be before he betrayed him. He had even hunted for him, he could not believe he had done that. The Shaman did not hunt, save for his own children, or his mate or parents if they were unable to do it themselves. Star had hated this particular aspect of their life together: constantly having to humiliate himself with his own laziness and lack of skill. Returning with crippled rabbits, deer found dead, and later, sheep and hens from the settlements of Men. That had not endeared them to the Men.

Frost had meant the crayfish as a simple gift, but it sat around his neck like a dead weight now. For the Shaman to hunt for another was a very deep expression of love and friendship – and it was an honour. Suddenly Frost was not sure he loved or trusted anyone.

“So what about you, aia-nen?” he asked. “Can I trust you?”

Elrohir shifted, uncomfortable with Frost’s current mood, and cold gaze. He lowered his eyes, shrugged, then smiled slightly.

“I don’t know,” he said simply. “My desire is to run to your side and proclaim my love and loyalty for all time, but I think you have heard that before. And though it would be a claim made from my heart, I fear other parts of me have their own reasons for saying such a thing.”

Frost stared at Elrohir for a long time, thinking over what he had just said. Then suddenly he laughed.

“Ai, Elrohir, none make me smile as you do. Forgive my harshness.”

“It seems you have every right to be harsh.”

“But not with you. You have done nothing. In truth, if I did not care so very much about you, I would not worry about whether you would betray my trust and hurt me.”

Elrohir came to sit beside him, lightly touching the long white hair that lay across the broad, muscled back.

“I cannot see a time when I do would do either. It is not in my nature. Indeed my father would hang me by my boots should I act in such a way, and I can think of several others who would help him. I cannot promise I will never do anything you will find offensive, but I can promise you I would never do such a thing out of malice, meaning to hurt. And I can promise I would spend every day doing what I could to make amends, until you forgave me.”

Frost rolled onto his back and looked up at Elrohir, and smiled. “And what part of you made that pretty speech, aia-nen?”

He smiled. “All of me.”

Frost laughed quietly. “How can you be so young, and yet so wise?”

“I had many good teachers.”

“Then I am indebted to them.” He reached up and gently undid the collar of Elrohir’s robe. Then he placed his hands on his shoulders and gently drew him down against his chest.

Elrohir felt his throat tighten, and the butterflies in his stomach felt as though they were the size of sea birds. A rough gasp escaped his throat, and he shivered as finally, after what seemed like centuries of desire, Frost kissed him. Elrohir was very glad he was not standing; he would have fallen over.

He felt Frost’s strong hands move over his back, and he pressed closer, kissing him harder, then parting his lips to taste him. The kiss ended, and Elrohir buried his face in the white hair with the black streaks. He felt Frost kiss his temple.

“Do you want me?” he whispered.

“Yes.” Elrohir raised his head and kissed him again. “Yes I want you, very, very, much.”

“I want you. I want your warmth, your comfort, your wisdom, your gentle humour…” Frost kissed him firmly. “But mostly right now I want your beautiful young body.”

Elrohir was not sure how he got out of his robes; later he found he had simply yanked them over his head and tossed them onto his own bed. Frost must have down something similar, because within moments they were both naked and in each other’s arms.

Frost rolled over, carefully trapping Elrohir beneath him, chuckling quietly. “Now I have you,” he said softly, kissing him. The Wood-Elf was far more slender than he was, and lighter, and Frost was thoroughly enjoying tormenting him with soft kisses along his throat and collarbone. Elrohir squirmed, trying to get his arms around him, but Frost had him restrained. Finally he could stand it no longer.

“This is the most foul torment I have ever been subjected to!”

“Is it? What can I do to ease your torture?”

“Let me touch you. Let me touch every part of you.”

Frost laughed, and eased back, permitting Elrohir to get his arms free and link them around his shoulders. “Better?” he asked softly.

Elrohir kissed him. “Much.” He ran his hands down Frost’s back, stroking him, kissing him. Then Frost began moving his way down Elrohir’s body, kissing his way over his chest, his flat stomach, smelling his heated flesh as he gently nibbled his soft skin.

“Shaman!” called a voice outside the tent.

Frost raised his head and looked over his shoulder. “What is it, Firespark?”

“We have found Fox, he is in the Halfling settlement.”

“I shall be there soon.”

“Yes, Shaman.”

Frost turned once more to look down at Elrohir, and grinned. “I suppose we must be quick, then,” he said softly.

Elrohir swallowed, breathing heavily. “’Quick’ will not be a problem.”

Frost leaned forward, his movements slow, lupine. He kissed Elrohir gently, then shifted his position, straddling the younger Elf. “Inside me,” he said softly, his breath warming Elrohir’s face.

“That will not be a problem either.”

Frost laughed, then kissed him, slowly impaling himself on Elrohir’s hard penis.

***---***

“I don’t want to go in,” said Lindir. It was true enough; he definitely did not think he was ready to witness an actual birth, especially since he was not even sure he believed what Erestor had told him about where babies came from. Still, he did not want Faramir to think he was a coward.

Faramir however did not seem disappointed in him. He smiled, and gave him a brief hug. “That’s all right Lindir, you do not have to.”

“But why do you want to?” he asked, somewhat distressed by the situation.

Faramir himself was not sure why he wanted to see this. But he was drawn by a desire to witness something so powerful as the emergence of life from such an ancient creature. “I don’t know,” he said. “I’m not even sure he will let me.”

“Well I’m coming with you,” said Rosie. “I’m not missing this unless he throws us out.”

Faramir looked down at the Halfling woman, and smiled at her fondly. “Then I shall have you to protect me, as these Elves seem fond of you.”

She waved her hand dismissively. “It is no great feat to be kind. Let us go in.”

Lindir had seen Rabbit snap at a few people, and had a good idea what sort of damage a Plains Elf could do. He watched Rosie and Faramir quietly enter the tent, feeling worried.

Fox stared hard at the two who entered his quiet place. He froze, fixing them with an intense gaze. But then, as they seated themselves quietly at a respectful distance, he seemed to forget about them. Fox shifted, arranging the covers and pillows into a satisfactory mess. Then he flopped down, looking harried and irritable.

Faramir edged closer. “Is there…?”

Fox snapped at him. Faramir pulled back and stayed beside Rosie, not wishing to lose a body part. Once more, Fox seemed to forget about them.

The tent flap pulled back, and Lindir stepped in. He looked nervous and uncertain, but when Faramir smiled and held his hand out to him, Lindir quickly moved over to the Mortal and sat close beside him, too nervous to enjoy the friendly arm that went about his shoulders. He pulled Miss Goose close to his chest, drew his knees up, and stared at Fox, obviously frightened. Faramir smiled at the young Elf.

“You’re very brave,” he whispered.

“Miss Goose wanted to watch, I’m just keeping her company.”

“Well Miss Goose is brave too.”

Lindir didn’t feel brave. He felt scared and sick, and a few emotions he could not even name. He shivered under Faramir’s arm, watching as Fox once more began irritably arranging his bed. Merry slipped in just then, and sat beside Lindir.

“There’s a pack of Plains-Elves out there,” he said, “and most of Imladris, including the guards in full array. I don’t think Lord Elrond wants to take a chance on anything happening.”

Faramir listened, but heard nothing. That was the spooky thing about Elves and Hobbits; one seldom did hear them, even in large numbers.

Rosie got up and went over to Fox, and Faramir felt his bile rise in cold terror for the little Halfling woman. Fox pulled his lips back and made a fearsome snarling growl, but she ignored him, perhaps reading something in his bearing that meant the threat was not serious. Faramir, Merry and Lindir were wondering if even Elrond would be able to put the bits of her back together, but the large being simply put his head down and closed his eyes, letting her stroke his hair.

“We could have used you at Isengard, Rosie,” said Merry. “You could have fed the Orcs cookies and cocoa and sent them on their way.”

“I don’t know what the fuss is,” she said, “they’re all so sweet.”

Fox growled. Merry and Faramir exchanged glances.

The large Plains-Elf suddenly rose up into a crouch, head lowered, bracing himself on his arms. Rosie stroked his long damp hair, pulling it back from his face. She spoke soft nonsense to him as he strained, then finally collapsed, panting. He made a very half-hearted snap, wrapping his jaws around her arm. She withdrew it, and stroked his hair again.

“Won’t be long now,” she said.

“Rosie,” said Merry quietly, “you’re going to lose a limb.”

“Nonsense,” she said. “He’s just frightened.”

Lindir said, so softly Faramir was not at first certain he heard it; “I wonder if Mr. Sam will put that on her tombstone?”

Merry and Faramir held back their laughter as best they were able. Fox rose up once more, head lowered, arms braced, straining. They stopped snickering when Rosie moved closer to Fox and he sank down, his head on her lap.

The tent flap pulled back, and Elrohir and Frost slipped in, both coming to sit by the bed. Fox said something to his Shaman in his own language, and Frost nodded. He moved back to sit on the floor near the other occupants, casting a quick glance at them. He smiled. “I see the whole community is well represented.”

Faramir smiled. Elrohir seated himself beside Frost, settling close to him.

“Rosie,” said Frost, “you’re going to lose a limb.”

She gave him a jaundiced look, then turned her attention back to Fox as he rose up a third time.

The Elfling came out rather quickly, unceremoniously, in a wash of fluid. Fox turned to his first child, paying no heed to the woman beside him. Faramir glanced at Lindir, who was sheet white, with a touch of green around the edges. He swallowed.

“I think Miss Goose has seen enough,” he said weakly.

“Do you want me to take you out?” asked Faramir.

He swallowed again. “When I can stand.”

Fox bit the cord, severing it neatly, then used Pippin’s favorite cotton tunic to dry the small child, who fussed irritably and waved tiny hands to ward off his Sia’s attentions. Cleaned and dried, the tiny Elfling rolled to his stomach and pushed himself into an unsteady seated position, trying to support himself on little arms. He fell onto his face; a short fall that landed him on feather quilts. Then he determinedly shoved himself up again, powder blue eyes looking around the tent.

Frost’s jaw dropped when Fox handed the new baby to Rosie before turning his attention to birthing his twin. The look of utter shock was not lost on Elrohir, who whispered nervously; “What is wrong?”

“I’ve been usurped!” Frost said, his expression of surprise and amusement. “I’m supposed to be the one a new child is passed to!”

Fox grinned weakly, and Rosie just looked smug, stroking the baby’s black fuzzy hair. “I told you I was in no danger,” she said.

“Yes you are,” said Frost. “You are in very grave danger of being adopted by a pack of wild Elves and given a Shaman’s name. Well Miss Rosie, you are the first to hold him, you must bless him.”

Frost came to sit beside her, instructing her quietly in the simple blessing. They completed it just in time for the second child to come along.

Merry quietly left the tent, stepping outside to look at those assembled around the tent. Finally he spied Pippin, and gave him a friendly slap on the shoulder.

“Looks like you’re rooming with me, Pip.”

“How’s my bed?”

“Wet. And messy.”

“And my clothes?”

“Oh I’m sure they’ll be good as new after a washing.”

Fade went into the tent, and Elrond stepped over to the Halfling. “What did he have?”

“Twins,” said Merry. “Feisty little ones, already sitting up!”

Elrond glanced over at Elladan. “Perhaps we should observe a moment of silence for the parents,” he said dryly. Elladan pretended to pout, then grinned as Orophin nuzzled his hair.

Lindir stumbled out of the tent, followed closely by Faramir. The Man steadied the young Elf, who looked a little battle-shocked.

“I think,” said Lindir, “I need to get to bed.”

***---***

Ilinuil awoke to birdsong, and the hangover from Mount Doom.

He opened his eyes, then slowly, carefully sat up, looking around the chamber he found himself in. It was large, constructed of stone and wood, but as of yet unfinished. The walls had yet to be paneled, and the floor was still rough. The windows however were finished, and were barred with an ornate iron grate. It certainly did indicate he was not supposed to leave.

“How do you feel?” asked a voice quietly.

Ilinuil turned to look at Amaris, and smiled weakly. “I did it, didn’t I? Got roaring drunk and told the whole tale.”

Amaris smiled. “I missed the performance, but I hear you were most eloquent.”

Ilinuil shoved his hair back and tied it into an untidy knot. “I’m trying to decide if I should be sorry I did it.” He looked around the room. “I take it Lord Elrond does not want me loose upon his grounds.”

“He is going to hold a council, to decide if you can stay. Though truth be told, I think they are more afraid of Gaelemir than you.”

Ilinuil sniffed his clothes, making a face as he caught the odor of spilled wine. “Gaelemir is not dangerous. He’s merely a frightened bully.”

“And your husband.”

Ilinuil laughed, an empty, humourless sound. “I shall rectify that the first chance I get.”

“So you do not love him.”

“I did. Once. It took him a long time, but he finally cured me of it.” He looked at Amaris. “I will not say I never felt anything for him. I once loved a great and brave Elven warrior. Why he became what he is, I do not know. There is still much good in him, Amaris. He follows Elven law out of love for his people, and would rather harm himself than one of his kin. I have seen him do deeds of great bravery and kindness. But his vice is treasure. He collects things of beauty, and many of those things are Elves. And Gaelemir does not part with what is his willingly.”

Amaris came to sit beside Ilinuil. “You are not an object to be stored away.”

“I know. But he will try to win me back now. And my spirit is so weak from want of affection I fear I may let him.”

Amaris carefully touched Ilinuil. He was cool, but not yet deathly cold. He put his arms around him and drew him close. The slender Elf allowed himself to be held, leaning against Amaris’ chest and closing his eyes.

“You need not go to him for meager scraps, Ilinuil.”

“If I am forced from this valley I shall have no one else to go to.”

“No, that is not true. I…”

“Amaris,” said Ilinuil, interrupting him. “Do not make promises to strangers you may regret.”

Amaris was startled by the statement, but nodded. “Very well. But at least let me build you a fire, and bring you breakfast.”

Ilinuil nodded. “But hold me a while first.”

The door opened, and Elentar stepped into the room, having to duck to avoid banging his head on the doorframe. He crossed the room and knelt on the floor before his half-brother, the concern on his face changing to a grin. He reached up to push a few wisps of silver hair back from Ilinuil’s face.

“Well don’t you look content!”

Ilinuil smiled and snuggled closer to Amaris. “Outwardly I am content. Inwardly I fear I am preparing to impersonate Mount Doom and spew everywhere.”

“I’m not surprised with all you had to drink! Six bottles of Lord Elrond’s best wine! Ai he is a patient Elf!”

Ilinuil went a strange colour and sat up, pointing to the window. Elentar crossed the room in two steps and pulled out the iron grate. Ilinuil was there a second later, vomiting out the window.

Amaris ran his hand over his face and shook his head, then went to the door and looked for the guard. Orophin was against a wall, his arms around Elladan. They were kissing with slow intensity, oblivious to anything else.

“Orophin, if you are not too terribly busy, could you kindly have some firewood brought, as well as something to settle a stomach?”

The two abruptly stopped what they were doing, and Orophin left to do as he was bid. Elladan straightened his robes and circlet, then cleared his throat. Amaris smiled sweetly.

“Done inspecting the troops, are we? Did you learn that technique from your Ada?”

Elladan folded his hands and stared at Amaris, ignoring the question. “I came to see how Ilinuil is faring.”

“Ilinuil is hung over and depressed. And his big brother just ripped an iron grate off its mounting so baby brother would not have to puke in the room. I hope you realize that this chamber may as well be constructed of paper for all the good it will do keeping him in.”

“If my father truly feared Ilinuil he would have put him someplace far more secure. As it is, I believe he feels that a vessel is not of itself evil, even if it is intended for evil purpose. And Ilinuil is an unused vessel, no matter what the reason for his creation. I do not believe he capable of any foul act, and I would wager none who dwell in this valley feel differently. His imprisonment is, for the most part, symbolic. Father also feels Ilinuil could use a few days away from his dear husband.”

“Your father is a wise man and I take back everything I said about him behind his back.”

“Thank you. Now, is there anything else he requires?”

“I think a bath, breakfast, and firewood shall take care of all for now. Perhaps some clean clothes.”

“He shall have them. But do not tell the Dwarfs that an Elf tore out a wrought iron grate they crafted.”

“Not a word, penneth. Speaking of Dwarfs, how fares my nephew? I have been in Imladris since this time yesterday, and have yet to see him.”

“Prince Legolas spends much of his time with the Clan of Glóin. At noon he and Gimli are in the habit of having lunch together by the great flat rock near the Bruinen.”

Amaris nodded. “I shall look for him there, then. Thank you Elladan.”

He stepped back into the room and closed the door, then walked over to the beautiful Elf who now lay crumpled on the floor beneath the window. Amaris sat down beside him.

“Better?” he asked.

“I swear I will never do this again. And this time I mean it.”

Amaris and Elentar laughed, and even Ilinuil managed a weak smile.

“Let us get you onto the bed, little brother,” said Elentar. The large Elf picked up his sibling with little effort, and carried him over to the bed. He placed him carefully onto the soft blankets, then seated himself beside him. Amaris began building up the fire.

Elentar and Amaris remained with Ilinuil until his bath was prepared, then left him to soak in the large tub, helping himself to various delicacies Elladan had brought while he lounged in the scented water. Elentar watched Orophin lock the door, then turned to Amaris.

“Well I cannot fault Lord Elrond’s hospitality. I wonder what I can do to get myself thrown into such a jail?”

“Give King Thranduil a kick in the backside the next time he shows up,” said Elladan quietly as he walked past them.

Reminded of his nephew, Amaris glanced out the window. The sun indicated it was nearing noon, and he left the house in search of Legolas.

***---***

“Now show me what you did,” Elrond said as he seated himself on a chair near his son.

Elrohir passed his father a heavy book. “I learned it in here, one of the oldest tomes in your library.”

Elrond opened the book, raising an eyebrow as he saw the name of the author. “My child, I knew Arphen, he was a good Elf and a fair healer, but…”

“Did you try any of his methods, Ada?”

“I confess I never found a situation that warranted it.”

“You did not think Glorfindel’s blindness warranted it?”

Elrond looked up from the book and gave his son The Eyebrow. “Before you imply I was not doing all I could for him, need I remind you that, first of all, my library is very large, and I am very busy, and second, you are not too big to spank.”

“Sorry Ada.”

“Just show me what you did, Elrohir, before your patient escapes.”

Elrohir looked around, suddenly realizing Glorfindel was not where he had left him. True to his restless nature, the large warrior had grown bored and wandered off. The young Elf chased after him, and finally succeeded in bringing him back.

“So are you finally done arguing about who can do the most damage?” asked Glorfindel.

“We are,” said Elrond, “Now we have only to discuss who gets to inject you with the three foot needle.”

“Oh let Erestor do it, he never gets to have any fun.”

Elrohir took Glorfindel’s head between his hands, his slender fingers lightly moving over his temples. “Arphen insists there are certain nerve points that, if stimulated properly, can result in…”

“Ow! Getting bit by a Balrog-Slayer!” Glorfindel yanked his head away.

Elrohir released him, then gave an odd little expectant smile. He watched Glorfindel shake his head, then blink. Elrond leaned forward, watching his friend.

“Fin?” he said quietly.

Glorfindel blinked again, then said quietly; “I see daylight. And shadows.”

Elrond snapped his attention to his son, who was looking immensely pleased with himself. Then he read through the text before him. “It seems we can only do this infrequently, else the treatment itself could cause damage.”

“At least I am going to see again,” said Glorfindel. He blinked, squinting, trying to focus. “Shadows only,” he said, “no colour. But I never thought I would be so glad to see shadows. But do me a favour, tell no one of this.”

Elrond and Elrohir looked surprised. “If you wish, we will keep it a secret.”

Glorfindel grinned. “I want to wait until I have a little more vision, then surprise Erestor.”

“That is very sweet,” said Elrohir.

“I want to also be able to spy on Gaelemir.”

Elrond rolled his eyes. “That is the Fin I know and love.”

They watched as once more Glorfindel escaped from the healer’s tent, and this time they let him go. Elrond read through the passage a few times more, then looked at Elrohir.

“I am very proud of you, Elrohir.”

“You would have found the answer, Ada.”

“I may have, yes. But that does not take away from what you did.” He leaned over and gave his son a hug. “Now if we can just convince your brother to stop stitching up wounds using embroidery knots.”

***---***

Ilinuil did not get out of the tub when he heard the knock at the door. It had been so long since he had the luxury of a deep tub full of hot water and fragrant soap he was not about to end the pleasure any time soon. So he remained, a warm cloth over his face, the water soothing his slight frame. He was even less inclined to move when he heard Gaelemir’s voice on the other side of the door.

“Ilinuil?”

“Go away.”

“Ilinuil, please, open the door.”

“No.”

“Oh please, my love…”

Ilinuil got angry, then immediately regretted it. Not only because Gaelemir was not worth it, but because the water abruptly went cold. He pulled the cloth from his face and stared at the door.

“My love?! Since when?”

“Ilinuil please, let us discuss this! Why did you do this?”

Ilinuil felt his anger rise, then abruptly was forced out of the bath as the water began to freeze. He pulled on a pair of breeches and walked to the door. He grasped the door handle, feeling the iron crumble beneath his hand as he yanked it. He stepped into the hallway, facing Gaelemir, flickering eerily with a blue light.

“Why do you think I did it? Because of the threats? The fear? Having to sit in agony while you chase every fair Elf who takes your fancy? You have destroyed every aspect of my life, Gaelemir. When you met me I was the former Lord of a small house, locked into a decaying tower. You rescued me, and brought me back to the house in the woods where I lived with Elentar. At first that was good enough, you were content to visit me there. Then you wanted a warrior, so you would not have to travel alone. So I left my home and learned to fight. Then you discovered others thought me fair, so you bonded with me, to keep me near. Then after you found out what I was, you no longer needed to pretend you loved me, you could just threaten me. Then you began waxing poetic about how delightful it was you had found Mir, and would it not be wonderful if you and he had a child. What was I supposed to then, Gaelemir? Hang myself in shame because I am a male Wood-Elf, not a woman or a Plains Elf?”

The cold blue light flashed with frozen brilliance, and the hall in which they stood began to fill with ice. Gaelemir backed up, visibly shaken.

“Ilinuil I do love you…”

Ilinuil screamed, the piercing shriek of a raging Nazgûl. The very daylight fled the hallway, the boards groaning and beginning to split as the temperature fell violently, and the day grew dark. The only illumination was from Ilinuil, blazing a cold blue light. Gaelemir could hear the sound of the Imladris guard rushing towards them, and he backed up.

Orophin was the first to reach Ilinuil. He drew an arrow in preparation, and watched as his bow froze and the arrow began to warp.

“Ilinuil!” he called, and the Elf turned to look at him. The blue light dimmed and went out, and the temperature began to rise in the frosted hallway.

Ilinuil clasped his hands nervously, then said shyly; “I apologize, Orophin, I… was rather angry.”

The guards appeared, then paused, looking at the dripping walls, the shattered door lock. In the midst of it all was Ilinuil, looking nervous and tearful. Orophin stepped forward and tried to take his hand, but jumped back as the coldness of it burned him.

“Ilinuil, what caused all this?” he asked.

Ilinuil squeezed his eyes shut, the tears that escaped freezing on his lids. He shook his head, then said softly; “Just please keep him away from me.”

Orophin looked at Gaelemir, and narrowed his eyes. “You were instructed to stay away from here.”

“I only wished to speak to my husband.”

The guards watched as the light dimmed, and there was a vibrant flash of blue. Then Ilinuil turned and walked into his room, seating himself on the floor. Orophin stepped up to Gaelemir and stared at him angrily.

“Gaelemir, so far as I can tell Ilinuil is of a very gentle nature, and wishes to hurt no one. Tell me, why are you so anxious to make your death the first justifiable slaying of an Elf by another Elf?”

“I only wished to speak to my husband.”

“He is your husband no more, he has unbound himself from you, and it is plain he does not wish to see you. Lord Elrond himself commanded you to let him be. I suggest you follow his instruction, lest you find yourself banished from this place.”

“Banished? Me? Banished? I’m no Nazgûl!”

Orophin was about to say something he wouldn’t regret when Elladan appeared. He put himself between the two, facing Gaelemir.

“You were commanded to leave Ilinuil alone. I suggest you do so now. My father will hear of this, Gaelemir. And should you disregard his orders again you will be banished. Ilinuil has caused no trouble to any, pity the same cannot be said of you.”

Gaelemir gave the young Elf Lord a cold look, then turned his back to Elladan and left. The gesture was not lost on any who saw it. Orophin moved closer to his husband.

“I do not trust that Elf. And I do not believe he came here only to help us stand against this Buyer.”

Elladan put an arm around Orophin. “Nor do I,” he said.

***---***

Lindir sat on a rock near the construction site, watching the workers. He still felt a little shaky from the previous night’s events, and he was sleepy from having been up so late. Master Erestor had let him out of lessons for the day, and Lindir was very glad. He had things to think about. Topping the list was what his Nana had told him about where babies came from. It was plain she had been grossly misinformed on the topic. But then, if she was his Nana, wouldn’t she have known where babies came from? There was only one possible answer to this riddle.

She had plainly forgotten, and had been told the story about the Mallorn leaves by somebody else.

The fact that she may have lied to him in order to keep him an Elfling as long as possible never entered his mind. Lindir was completely without guile, and it would never occur to him that his Nana may be intentionally deceptive. No, she had not lied. She had been misinformed.

He looked up as he felt someone sit beside him, and he smiled as he saw it was Faramir.

“You were not at archery lessons today,” said the Man.

“Master Erestor let me take the day off because I was up so late. He was afraid I would shoot myself in the foot with the arrow.”

Faramir smiled, and Lindir felt his insides go warm and mushy. “Master Erestor is a wise Elf. Now tell me, I heard you play the mandolin, is it true?”

“Oh I used to a little, but Nana gave away my mandolin. She said music would make me turn out like my cousin Belwen and I would be found by the guards doing something with a sheep. What would Belwen do with a sheep that was naughty?”

Faramir stared at the Elf. He had been told Lindir’s family was colourful, but he was beginning to suspect they were a little more bizarre than the other Elves wanted to admit.

“Ah, I have no idea Lindir. But I do have a present for you.” He passed Lindir a beautifully crafted mandolin.

He stared at the instrument, taking it and turning it over in his hands. “It’s beautiful, I never owned one this nice. But are you sure you want to give it to me?”

Faramir smiled. “Of course. Now I have to go. I’ll see you later.”

He put his hand on Lindir’s shoulder and gave him a quick little friendly kiss, then rose and made his way towards Elrond’s office. For a very long time Lindir just stared after him, cheeks flushed, his insides doing odd things. His heart was pounding so hard he felt certain others must be able to hear it. He reached out for Miss Goose and picked her up, holding her close as he whispered into her ear.

“That sure felt different than when Master Erestor does it.”