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Elrond looked across the expanse of garden before him. Spring had arrived in Imladris once more and despite the winter being mild – as it always was with the use of Vilya – the slight change in weather had made way for the revival of the most beautiful blossoms to be found outside of Lothlorien. The Elven-Lord could often be found taking in the atmosphere and surroundings of the Last Homely House. It was the perfect place to allow one the solitude for reflection and it was not often anything occurred to disturb the peace there. Nothing but the expanse of trickling streams and blossoming buds to keep one company.
It was slightly out of place, then, when the Master of Imladris heard hushed voices ahead. As he rounded the corner he was met by the sight of his son and the Prince of Mirkwood. That, in and of itself, was not enough to prompt the shock that ran through the older Peredhel. It was the intimate embrace they were enveloped in that momentarily wiped the Lord’s mind blank. Their bodies entwined together almost as if they were trying to sink into one another and become one being.
Elrond almost cleared his throat to break them apart, convinced the pair had lost their collective minds but something stopped him at the last second – something that he could not explain.The relationship between Imladris and Mirkwood had been strained at best for many years. King Thranduil had long since the Last Alliance of Elves and Men held a grudge – blaming Elrond, among others, for the fate that beheld his father – Oropher – and the fates of his people who had been slaughtered on the slopes of Orodruin. Elrond had refused to be blamed for the mad, pre-emptive strike on Oropher’s part and the two Kingdoms had been sundered from each other for well over an age.
It was only in the last several decades, not a long time at all for such an ageless race as the Elves, that barriers had slowly started to be removed as each came to their senses and made the effort to extend formal hands of friendship; for each was wise enough to realise that the darkness was once again encroaching upon them and it would not be long before each would need the other.
Back to the matter unfolding in front of him, Elrond took a step to the side so that he was concealed by a nearby tree and listened to the whispered voices that spoke intimately to each other.
“It is surely time to tell them.” The blond Prince wondered aloud.
“Aye, you are right. We cannot put it off much longer.” The twin sighed. “I would prefer they find out from us than from some idle gossip. I would that they be prepared for this revelation. We know not how it will be taken as it is. We should not be ashamed of how we feel, should not have to hide it in this manner.”
“They cannot sunder us, surely?”
“They can try – indeed, I would be surprised by anything less than warning us apart from each other.” At the stricken look of Thranduilion, the Elf-Knight pulled the younger Elf against his body and hastened on. “I would not allow that, hûn nin.” (My heart)
“But what if they forced you into making a choice? It is possible that they will.”
“You know where it is my heart lies, Melethron (m. lover). It has belonged to you for many years now and I would not be parted with you for anything or anyone.”
“But Elladan -”
“My brother would be least likely to bring us grief. He has long since known of my elevated spirits, though not the reasoning behind the marked improvement. He has only ever wanted my happiness, as I have longed for his. He will support us even if no one else is so inclined.” He tilted Legolas’ chin towards him, stealing a kiss from the archer’s rosy lips. “What of your family?”
“Adar is strict and unpredictable. He, too, wants my happiness but I know not whether he is willing to sacrifice his pride and misguided disinclination towards your family to achieve it.” He buried his head in the crook of the twin's neck. “As you declared it, it matters not for I would not be torn from your side. To be apart from you would be to seal my fate to grief and I will not allow it.”
“Fading would also be my fate should we be separated. I do not believe my father would allow it but if it were commanded of me, I would go anywhere to be with you. Imladris is where I abide but my home is with you, at your side.”
“I love you, Elrohir.” The twin looked Legolas in the eye, cupping his cheek, his thumb stroking the chiselled cheekbone beneath it, drawing a sigh from his partner.
“I love you, too, i ernil vuin nin – Legolas nin.” (my beloved prince – my Legolas)Their lips met in a sealing kiss. The bond between them shone as brightly as the star of Earendil did in the heavens. Elrond backed away quietly as the kiss grew more passionate, the two lovers clinging to each other for dear life as though to anchor themselves to the other lest they be ripped apart.
Foregoing the remainder of his stroll, Elrond made his way back to the house, his mind dominated by that he had stumbled across. Had he not seen it with his own eyes he likely would not have believed it but it made a strange amount of sense to him when he thought about it. Elrohir did not make friends that easily. Although quick to jest, with a humour rivalled by none (except maybe Elladan), it took him a long time to fully trust anyone and bestow his favour upon them. Not long after the Mirkwood Prince’s arrival, however, they were often seen on the training grounds together. Elrond had put it down to taking pity on a guest who knew not his way around the vale. Evidently, it was so much more than anyone had previously thought. Elrohir had even kept it a secret from his twin, sooner than reveal the relationship too soon and curse it to failure because of the poisoned tongues of others.
From the overheard conversation it seemed clear to the Elf-Lord that the couple were both deeply in love and deadly serious in their promise that nothing separate them. Elrond knew his son did not speak false words, knew that if he himself did not accept the relationship between the two, he would without a doubt lose his son.
His thoughts turned to Thranduil’s possible reaction. Anger would most likely be at the fore and in anger Elves often committed heinous deeds that after the moment has passed are impossible to take back. If Thranduil were to try and split the couple, Elrond had no doubt that both would fade in their grief and heartbreak – or leave together and he would likely never see his son again. He would lose Elrohir either way. The dark-haired Elf quickly decided upon a course of action. He would send a messenger to Mirkwood soonest, to pave the way for the revelation. Hopefully the chock would wear off and rational thought would prevail in the mind of the Woodland King when it came to his son’s choice of mate. Elrond could only pray to Elbereth and hope.
In the meantime he had a delicately worded letter to compose.
As he sat down and pulled out a sheet of parchment, he momentarily wondered at the expressions on Elrohir and Legolas’ faces when they finally revealed themselves, only to be met with, hopefully, unsurprised acceptance. Maybe it would finally be him shocking his sons for once, instead of them pulling tricks on him and the rest of the valley. He could only hope.