Sun-Kissed Blood 7

Sun-Kissed Blood

Part 7

Posted: September 19, 2008

*****

The room was empty .

“No,” the prince whispered as he stared at the empty stalls, fresh hay strewn everywhere. His eyes were wide with alarm as he moved to the middle of the room. They had forgotten. They had forgotten to restock it with animals for him to feed on. Hunger clawed at his stomach and he dropped to his knees, shock making him almost numb except for the ache in his belly. His fangs distended fully and his nails became sharp claws.

Even as the thirst tried to take him over, Legolas fought against it. He battled to retain his control. If he failed, he knew others would pay the price. One thought began to circle around in his mind. He had to get out of the caverns. He needed to get to the woods, to find his prey there. Turning towards the door, he almost cried out in denial as Erestor stepped through the archway in naught but a dressing gown.

The other elf’s scent filled his nose and his body roared out in primitive need. The lust seared through him as his nose filled with the scent of fresh blood. He could hear the sound of Erestor’s heart beating and the rush of his blood through his veins. The wood elf flung himself to the far corner of the room, turning to face the wall, ironically heedless of the blood dripping down his body. Closing his eyes, Legolas tried to regain his slipping control, to ignore the sweet temptation the dark haired elf presented to him.

“Leave,” he growled. “Saes, Erestor…. Run.”

“I think not,” the councilor said firmly. “I have known for some time there was something you were hiding from me. Now I am determined to know what it is.”

“You have NO idea what danger you are in,” the prince snarled. “None.”

“I do not believe you will hurt me, Legolas.” Erestor said quietly.

“You would be wrong,” the blond answered as he continued to struggle with himself.

“I do not think so,” the Noldo said as he slowly moved closer to Legolas.

Reaching out a hand, he gently laid it on the prince’s bare shoulder. Before he could even inhale to speak, the wood elf was on him. Surprised, Erestor was knocked off balance and the two elves went crashing to the floor. Another councilor or scribe might have been overpowered by the ferocity and suddenness of Legolas’ attack. They would not have had the benefit of training with Glorfindel. Erestor fought against the assault, preventing Legolas from sinking rather large fangs into his neck. Fear clawed at his belly but the instinct to survive was much stronger.

Struggling and fighting, the two elves rolled through the hay. The sounds coming from the sinda’s throat could only have been described as animalistic. In the cacophony of shouts, snarls and cries, neither Erestor nor Legolas heard the sound of running feet. Even the shouts did not register in their ears.

Legolas knew nothing but the drive to feed, the need for blood. It was the only way he would have missed the presence of Lord Glorfindel. Strong hands grabbed him and threw him across the room. Twisting and flipping his body like a great hunting cat, Legolas landed on his feet in a crouched position. Snarls and growls emanated from his throat as he eyed the elf that dared come between him and his mate, his life source.

The prince rose to his full height slowly, balancing on the balls of his feet. He scented the air, taking in the smell of Glorfindel and Erestor. Studying the two elves before him, he reached up to rub at his lips and nearly swooned as the sweetest taste flooded his mouth. In that instant he knew what the flavor was… Erestor. In that moment of acknowledgement, things cleared just a bit for the prince. His eyes lost a bit of their glow and his body relaxed just the barest hint. Horror filled him and Legolas whimpered with it as he sank to the ground. He wrapped his arms around his body and fought against the hunger trying to overtake him once more. Self-hatred filled him. He knew then that he was a monster, truly a monster.

Glorfindel risked a glance back at his friend and snarled in fury. Erestor was leaning against the wall, blood flowing from several deep wounds. What skin the Captain could see was reddened and bruised. Turning back to the prince, Glorfindel drew the sword that had been strapped to his back, anger filling him and instigating a warrior’s response to a threat.

The longsword came down above the younger blond only to stop in mid strike as two silver short knives blocked the blow. Then his blade was tossed to one side and he was pushed back away from the collapsed prince. Thranduil stood between him and Legolas, his body tensed and ready for battle even if the king only wore a pair of deep green sleep pants and his knife harness.

“Get out of the way.” Glorfindel demanded slowly.

“You will not touch him,” Thranduil responded.

The two warriors came together after that brief exchange. Though Glorfindel was the better warrior by far, Thranduil fought with the heart of a father protecting his son and so was able to match the balrog slayer move for move. He would never let any harm come to Legolas, not while there was life left in his body. He drove the larger elf away from where the prince lay on the ground, shaking violently.

Focused on their battle, neither elf took notice of the other elves entering the room. Elrond immediately went over to Erestor and examined him.

“What happened?” he questioned even as he turned to glance at the two foolish elves behind him.

“I believe it is a long story,” Erestor answered with a groan. “And if we do not stop those two idiots, we will not hear it.”

“Can you stand?” the Lord asked.

“Yes. I’m a bit bruised, banged up and scared out of my mind, but other than that I am fine.” The councilor answered.

The two dark-haired elves rose to their feet in time to see an elleth entering the room. They were quite surprised when she pushed her way between the two warriors and headed straight for the prince.

Erestor called out.“Do not go near him!” the councilor cried. “He is dangerous.”

Vaidre ignored the foolish words and lowered herself down to sit next to Legolas. Gently she gathered him in her arms, crooning softly as she had when he was an elfling. Even as she sang to him, she rolled back the sleeve of her nightgown.

“Legolas, dithen nin, look at me. Hear my voice,” she whispered.

Blue/white eyes looked up at her, filled with pain, anguish and fear. Fangs pressed from between his lips and blood covered him. Even as he shook his head to deny what she offered, Vaidre pressed her wrist to his mouth.

“You must, gil nin.” She insisted.

With another whimper of protest, Legolas opened his mouth and pressed it to her flesh. His fangs pierced her skin easily and blood flowed smoothly into his mouth. Almost instantly the need receded and he gave a soft sigh of relief. Gently he drew on the wound, bringing more of the precious liquid into his mouth. The pain in his stomach eased and the hunger slowly withdrew until he could think clearly once more.

Vaidre smiled softly as she saw Legolas’ eyes return to normal. The thirst was sated and her little prince was returning to them. Gently she stroked his hair as he pulled his mouth from her arm and then laid his head in her lap. Little by little his eyes drifted closed and he was soon in a deep sleep. Once she heard his soft sigh of contentment, Vaidre raised her eyes to look at the ellyn around her.

“I see you two have come to your senses,” she said calmly as she looked at Thranduil and the Captain. “Fighting was only going to make the matter worse. You would have triggered his predatory instinct and then the lot of you would have been in serious trouble. I swear ellyn do not use their brains.”

“Now, Vaidre,” Thranduil began.

“I understand, Sire,” she said softly. “You could do nothing less and I apologize for speaking thusly.”

“King Thranduil,” Elrond said calmly. “I believe an explanation is in order.”

“Indeed,” Erestor said though he would have preferred to return to his chambers and get as far away from Legolas as he could.

Glorfindel remained silent. He wanted to kill the creature for harming his dear friend, prince or no prince. Whatever Legolas was, he was not an elf as far as the captain was concerned. He didn’t even want to know what had happened to change the wood elf into the abomination curled up in the elleth’s lap. His fingers gripped his sword reflexively.

“If you so much as make one move towards him,” Thranduil growled low in his throat. “Balrog Slayer or no, I will gut you where you stand.”

The Captain turned to face the King more fully and the challenge was clear in his sapphire eyes.

“Glorfindel, stand down.” Elrond commanded.

Reluctantly the seneschal did as his lord commanded and sheathed his blade. He positioned himself between Legolas and Erestor and crossed his arms over his chest. He had made his position perfectly clear.

“Perhaps if we could adjourn to your study, Hiren, we could discuss the matter?” Lindir offered quietly from the doorway.

“I will need assistance with, Legolas. I do not think he will wake any time soon,” Vaidre said quietly. “I will sit with him.”

Once Legolas was ensconced in his rooms with Vaidre sitting at his bedside, the other elves entered Thranduil’s study. Closing the door behind him, Lindir sighed as he noticed the hostile faces and fearful eyes of the Imladrin elves. He looked to his king and found Thranduil trying to hide what he truly felt. This evening had started out so well and with such promise. Now it had gone to Mordor in a hand basket.

“What is wrong with him?” Erestor demanded.

“There is nothing wrong with Legolas,” Lindir insisted before the King could snarl his answer.

“I would have to disagree on that point,” Erestor answered. “Clearly there is.”

“Legolas was born this way,” Thranduil answered through gritted teeth. “He is not to blame for his condition, nor can he be condemned for needs that were beyond his control.”

“I think it best to start at the beginning. In order to understand these events, we must know why the prince…” Elrond couldn’t find a polite way to say it.

“Why he attacked Erestor and tried to kill him.” Glorfindel finished sharply.

“Please understand this is not an easy thing to discuss. It has its beginnings many years before Legolas was even born. It is a sad thing indeed that it could happen to one such as the prince.” Lindir explained.

“Perhaps you should try,” Elrond encouraged. “I would like to understand.”

Thranduil sighed as he rose from his chair behind the desk. He opened a cabinet and pulled out several glasses and a decanter. Pouring everyone a drink of Miruvor, he gave them to Lindir to pass about. Then he returned to his seat and, after taking a deep sip, began his tale.

“Legolas was cursed many years ago because of something I did,” he said, not looking at any of the people in the room. “In a misguided attempt to secure a life together, my lover attempted to kill my father. I defended Adar and in the process fatally wounded my beloved. With his dying breath, Mornefin cursed me and my line to drink of blood spilled on my most blessed day. That day was the day Legolas was born. Within a week I had buried my wife and shortly after, discovered that my son had tiny fangs and needed blood to thrive.”

“As time progressed,” Lindir said continuing the explanation. “The prince needs changed, increased. He feeds from animals that are kept in the room you just left.”

“The day we arrived, you reminded Legolas of an appointment.” Erestor said. “It was the fact that he needed to feed that caused you to interrupt us was it not?”

“Yes,” The sinda councilor said.

“Why was the room empty then?” Glorfindel demanded. “The hay was clean and there was no sign of a single animal in that room.”

“I do not know but you can rest assured that I will find out and someone will answer for it.” Thranduil growled.

“In view of his condition,” Elrond asked. “Why would you even consider following the Majority ritual?”

“Because he wanted to feel normal,” Thranduil answered quietly. “For once in his life, he wanted to be like every other ellyn and ellyth in Mirkwood. Legolas has never been able to behave like others his age. My son is all too aware of all the things that separate him from every other elf in Middle Earth. He wanted to forget those differences and show his people that he was like them, if only for one night.”

“Why me?” Erestor asked softly. “Why did you ask me to be his teacher and not someone such as Vaidre or Lindir? It is clear they are aware of his differences.”

“Lindir expressed to me a long time ago that he did not wish to participate in any majority ritual. I honored his request and always will. Vaidre would not have suited as my son’s teacher because Legolas is attracted to ellyn,” Thranduil explained. “I chose you, Erestor, because Legolas asked me to consider you as his teacher. He has feelings for you and, if I am not mistaken, you have feelings for him. I would not trust my only child to someone who would hurt him.”

“No, instead Erestor is the one who ended up being hurt.” Glorfindel snapped.

“Legolas does not smile,” the king said simply. “He does not do this because his fangs will show and he learned a long time ago that they frightened people. He was teased unmercifully for each and every difference he displayed. My son spends most of his time alone, reading in the library or in his rooms when he is not practicing. When he saw the coronet on your head, Erestor, his face lit up brighter than Anor. He was so happy. How could I take that away from him?”

“This situation is regrettable,” Lindir said as he moved to stand next to his king. “Someone failed in their duty and, as a result, both Erestor and Legolas have been hurt. We will take the appropriate action.”

“What about Legolas?” Erestor asked.

“What about him?” Glorfindel said. “Surely you cannot be concerned with him after what he did to you?”

“Glorfindel you are being too hard on him. I will admit he frightens me. Had you not trained me in hand to hand combat, things would have turned out quite differently. However, I cannot condemn him for something he has no control over. He is what he is, Fin, and he suffers for it.” The dark-haired councilor said.

“What exactly IS he, Erestor?” the seneschal asked.

“He is my prince and my beautiful elfling. He is the stars in his Ada’s eyes and the joy of his people. He is Legolas Thranduilion and nothing else matters.” Vaidre said from the doorway.

“Is everything alright, Vaidre?” the king asked, rising to his feet.

“In truth, I am not sure, Hiren. Legolas’ condition has changed. His breathing has become increasingly shallow and his pulse is very faint.”

Before the words had completely left her lips, Thranduil was out the door and heading towards his son’s rooms at a dead run. He barely slowed down as he turned the corner to enter the prince’s chambers. Flying to Legolas’ side, he grasped one pale hand and put the other on his son’s cheek.

“Legolas,” he called. “Wake up, iônen.”

It was as if cold water had been splashed on the younger elf. His eyes snapped open and he inhaled sharply. For a moment, it appeared as if he didn’t recognize where he was. Then his eyes focused on his father and his lower lip trembled. He shot into Thranduil’s embrace and the tears flowed swiftly.

“You should have let Lord Glorfindel kill me,” the prince cried against his father’s chest. “I am a monster, a beast that should be put down before I hurt anyone else.”

“You are my son,” Thranduil answered softly. “I would give up my life, my very fea, before I let anyone harm you.”

“How can you love me?” the prince sobbed. “I am an abomination.”

“You are no such thing, Legolas Thranduilion,” Galadriel said quietly as she flowed into the room. Two blond heads jerked in her direction. “You know the circumstances of your condition. It is a curse made with Mornefin’s very last breath. However, all is not without hope.”

“How did you know?” Thranduil sighed. The Lady of Light was the last person he ever wanted to be aware of Legolas’ condition.

“I see many things, Thranduil, and go where the Valar feel I am needed.” She answered cryptically. “For now Legolas must rest. You and I must talk with the others and I will tell you the possibilities that were revealed to me.”

“I do not wish to rest,” Legolas said even as he yawned and his eyes drifted closed. Soft purrs issued from his throat as he curled around the pillow Erestor had used.

“Yet, rest you must, pen dithen, for there is much to be discussed.” The Lady of Light said as she stroked his hair. Then she looked at his father before walking gracefully out of the room.

“I am glad to see you all here,” Lady Galadriel said calmly as she entered Thranduil’s study. She took the empty winged back chair to the right of the large desk.

“Lady Galadriel,” Elrond nodded.

Glorfindel merely winked at the elleth, making her blue eyes twinkle.

“I am assuming you are aware of tonight’s activities,” Erestor said with a calm he didn’t quite feel

“I am,” She answered.

“And you have some light to shed upon the situation?” Glorfindel asked.

“You are correct, Lord Glorfindel. It is information that you, Lord Erestor, need to know most especially,” She said.

“Why am I not surprised?” the councilor sighed. “You may as well begin. There is no point in delaying.”

“Legolas needs blood to survive,” Galadriel said. She silenced the captain’s pending comment with a sharp look. “As love caused the curse, love must provide the cure.”

“What do you mean?” Erestor said sharply.

“It means your love, and your blood, are the key to saving Legolas from the shadow that is creeping up on his soul,” The lady explained.

“I… I cannot,” the councilor whispered. “I… he… frightens me.”

“I cannot believe I was wrong about you,” Thranduil said quietly. “I could have sworn you loved him.”

The king departed, leaving Lindir in his place. He did not wish to hear how or why his son was going to suffer further. Instead he went to Legolas’ bedside and sat with his only child.

“Gohenno, nin pen dithen,” the king whispered as he brushed a pale blonde strand of hair from his son’s face, silent tears glistening against his cheeks.

“I understand your fear, Erestor,” Galadriel said softly.

“No. I do not think you do,” the dark-haired elf said. “He attacked me.”

“Do you mean to tell me you feel nothing for Legolas but fear?” The lady demanded.

“How can you ask him to feel more? He was assaulted by some monster not half an hour ago,” Glorfindel said angrily.

Erestor dropped his gaze to the long claw marks in his arms. He let all of the things that had happened wander through his mind. Only two images were prominent; the prince lost to passion and then clinging to his father, sobbing in despair. Legolas’ self-loathing was evident. Yet, could he move beyond his fear to comfort the prince? He didn’t understand exactly what was going on or why Legolas was the way he was and it was hard to make a decision.

“Up until now, there has been only one incident where the prince attacked another. He was very, very young at the time,” Lindir said.

‘You cannot ask it of him,” The captain insisted.

“Glorfindel, please retire to your rooms,” Elrond said firmly.

The golden warrior glared at his lord before following the order. He had no choice but to obey and so stormed out of the room.

Once the seneschal left Elrond gave a small nod to his chief advisor. He had seen the look on Erestor’s face and knew the other ellon’s mind was working, analyzing the problem.

“You must understand,” the councilor began quietly. “This is quite an unusual situation and I am still a bit shaken by the whole experience. I knew Legolas had a secret but, by Elbereth, I did not think it was something like this.”

“The prince has never gone so long without feeding and lately, his needs have been changing,” Lindir explained. “We have had no precedent to go by in dealing with this. Yet, we love him. He is such a beautiful person, caring and unassuming. He tries so hard to set everyone at ease, make sure they are comfortable and it is hard for him. He is so alone and has had no one but Thranduil, Vaidre and myself to confide in. That he spoke to you, Lord Erestor, at great length is quite an achievement for him. Most do not spend long in his company. It is as if they could sense his… otherness and wanted nothing to do with it.”

“What you ask is not as simple as yes or no,” Elrond said.

“Galadriel, what exactly is expected of me?” Erestor asked. “You know, do you not?”

“I do,” She answered.

“Saes, tell me,” the advisor pleaded.

“You must bind yourself to him,” the lady of Light explained. “Become his mate. It will be YOUR blood that sustains him for the rest of his life. With your joining he will be able to walk in Anor’s light unhindered. It will not change what he is or his very nature, but he will be loved and cherished.”

“And what of me?” Erestor asked. “What will happen to me?”

Galadriel smiled gently. Rising from her seat, she floated over to the dark-haired elf and softly caressed his pale cheek.

“You, too, will be loved and cherished, Erestor, with an intensity that rivals the sun,” she answered. “He is already deeply in love with you. Legolas believed this to be his one night of pleasure, of intimacy, and he only wanted to experience it with you. The prince was more than ready to spend the rest of his life alone as long as you, Erestor, were his first. Not many have such devotion.”

“I…”,Erestor sighed. “I cannot make such a decision at this very moment. I must have a chance to think on it.”

“Very well,” the Lady said. “I can see Elrond is eager to attend your wounds and I must check on Legolas.”

“Why?” the councilor asked anxiously despite his fear and confusion.

“Who better to drive back the Shadow than the Lady of Light?” she asked cheekily but then her countenance grew serious. “Legolas is fighting his very nature to avoid hurting anyone. He has been successful up until now. However, with the taste of his mate’s blood upon his lips, it will be much more difficult for him.”

“You are saying…” Elrond began.

“His instinct will be to reach you, claim you and make you his,” Galadriel emphasized as she held Erestor’s gaze. “Though the Prince may wish otherwise, he may not be able to control himself, especially tonight when he has been awakened to passion and the taste of his mate.”

The galadhrim Lady then left the room, leaving Imladris’ formidable councilor speechless and blushing. Elrond reached over and gently lifted the other ellon’s jaw.

“She is very strange,” Erestor said finally.

“She sees much and she does what she can,” Elrond said.

“What am I to do, Elrond?” Erestor whispered quietly.

“Nothing can be resolved tonight, my Lords,” Lindir said calmly. “Please return to your rooms and rest. We can discuss it again in the morning.”

The two lords nodded their heads in agreement and left the study. So much had happened that there truly was no way to think clearly.

***

Slowly cerulean blue eyes opened and Legolas looked at his Adar’s face, relaxed in sleep but still glistening with tears. He had never seen his father cry before. Hesitantly he reached out and brushed his ada’s cheek.

Placing a kiss on the sleeping king’s brow, the prince rose from his bed. Before he had taken two steps his stomach clenched painfully. He gasped, almost dropping to his knees. He should not be hungry. Legolas gave a pained whimper as his fangs distended sharply. Claws scraped against the stone floor as he scrambled to his dress for some clothing. He gasped for air as he pulled on a tunic and leggings.

Soon he was slipping silently through the halls. He prayed that he didn’t run into anyone else. The prince could not guarantee they would survive. The black corridors hindered him not at all. In truth anyone who saw him would note the eerie blue/white glow of his eyes, piercing the darkness and allowing the prince to see as if it were mid day.

As he passed the guest chambers, the most heavenly scent reached his nose. Despite his desire to leave the caverns, he stopped in his tracks. A rumbling purr echoed from his chest as a tingling pleasure flowed over his body. The scent meant peace. It meant love and, as his shaft throbbed, it meant passion. Lightly he turned on his heel and silently padded down the hall.

Legolas paused before Erestor’s door. Reaching out a hand, he gently rested it on the wooden surface. Erestor. He could sense the other ellon beyond the wood. He could feel the councilor’s agitation and fear. Despite having better manners, the prince strained to hear the words the other ellon was saying.

“I do not know what to do.” The dark-haired elf said.

“It is simple,” Glorfindel growled. “Leave. Do not tie yourself to him.”

“Was it not you who was encouraging a relationship between us earlier today?” Erestor said drily.

“That was before he tried to kill you,” the balrog slayer retorted. “He is a monster.”

Legolas flinched at the word. Monster… yes he was. He knew this but hearing someone else say it still hurt. He didn’t wait to hear Erestor’s comment. More than likely he would agree with the captain’s assessment. It was not something the prince through he could bear. Slowly he slinked away from the door.

“I did not think you had any bad habits,” Galadriel commented casually as she stepped from her rooms.

“Hirilen,” Legolas whispered. “I am sorry if I disturbed you.”

“Actually I was waiting for you, Ernil.” She said with a gentle smile.

“For me?” Legolas said. “Why?”

“I knew you would attempt to leave,” Galadriel responded as she led the way to her sitting room. She ignored the young ellon’s blush. “You are a very considerate ellon. I know a young elf in Lórien who could use a few lessons.”

“I do not know how that can be,” Legolas whispered. “Especially after what I did to Erestor. I terrify him. In truth, I horrify myself.”

“Take a seat, Legolas,” The lady commanded gently.

With a sigh, the prince sat on the settee next to Galadriel. He curled his hands in his lap to hide his claws and kept his fangs carefully hidden within his mouth.

The elleth carefully observed the sinda. It was clear, at least to her, that Legolas was upset, agitated and sad. Here was an elf just reaching his majority and already he was anticipating a lifetime alone. It was all the worse for the deep love the prince felt for Erestor.

“You truly believe you will spend the rest of your life alone. Have you no faith in Erestor?” she asked.

“I have neither right nor reason to expect anything from Lord Erestor,” Legolas said. “I would not taint him with my presence, let alone my touch.”

“I think you underestimate the good councilor.” Galadriel said.

“My lady, I am an abomination. I do not even know what I am,” Legolas said. “What sort of creature needs blood to survive? What sort of elf would attack the one they love?”

“Do you realize that there is hope for you?” she asked.

“No, hîrilen,” Legolas stated firmly as he rose. “I love Erestor too much to make him sacrifice his happiness for me. And I cannot give myself to another in good conscience even if I were capable of loving another. It is best if I… go away.”

Before the lady could say anything further, the prince was slipping out the door and away into the darkened corridors. She gave a huff of frustration, placing her hands on slender hips.

“I know that look,” Celeborn said. “Do not be too hard on him, Meleth. He is young.”

‘Young and foolish,” she said. “We must wake the others before he gets too far.”

***

Erestor sat on his bed as his dear friend paced back and forth. Glorfindel’s agitation was not helping the dark-haired elf to calm down. He wanted to be able to think but it seemed everything was all wrapped up in his emotions. It took a moment for him to grab the one thought clear in his head.

“I love him,” The councilor said.

“What?” the golden warrior asked, stopping his pacing to stare at the other elf.

“I love him, Glorfindel,” Erestor repeated. “I cannot abandon him.”

The seneschal stared at his friend a few more moments before he sighed and sat next to him. He nodded in understanding as he wrapped his arms around his friend.

“Then you have my support,” Glorfindel said.

“I am still frightened of him but… I just cannot…” Erestor sighed.

“Perhaps we should go find Lady Galadriel and King Thranduil,” Glorfindel said.

“Yes. That is a good idea.” Erestor agreed. Then he walked over and pulled a dressing robe over his sleep paints. Wincing slightly, he lifted his hair from beneath the fabric and took a deep breath. He turned to face the warrior.

“I am ready,” he said.

“I hope so.” Glorfindel sighed.

***

“How did he get out?” the king demanded of his guards at the cavern’s great gate.

“I do not know, sire.” The senior guard answered. “I did not realize he knew the words until the gate opened for him.”

“He does not know them,” Thranduil snapped.

“Perhaps he simply used his superior strength?” Lindir asked.

“It was neither,” Galadriel murmured as she placed her hand on the gate.

“It was his sheer desire to leave,” Thranduil said, his voice defeated and broken. “That is the only way it could have been done.”

“Will you not go in search of him?” Elrond questioned.

“Of course,” Thranduil said. “I wish your party had never come to my lands. I heartily regret choosing Erestor to be my son’s teacher. Most of all, I regret the pain Legolas suffers because of me. In the morning, you all will leave Mirkwood.”

“I will alert…” Lindir said.

“No one,” the king said firmly. “I will go by myself.”

“Hiren, I must protest.” The white haired ellon said.

“And I must insist. I know this forest better than any of you. It is mine. I will find my son and bring him home,” Thranduil said.

“What is happening?” Glorfindel asked as he and Erestor approached the group.

“Legolas is missing,” Elrond explained. “He has slipped away into the forest. King Thranduil is going in search of him.”

“What?” Erestor whispered, a rock settling in his stomach and fear choked him.

“Do not worry yourselves,” Thranduil said coldly. “He is our concern and we will care for him. I recommend you return to your rooms and remain there until you are able to leave on the morrow.”

At that moment, the page he had sent for his weapons returned and the king clad himself in his armor. He had nothing but cold looks for the councilor and Glorfindel.

“I will go with you.” The balrog slayer offered suddenly.

“I think not. I want my son back alive,” Thranduil snarled. “You will stay away from him.”

“I have no intention of killing him.” Glorfindel shot back.

“So you say.” Came the short response.

“Enough!” Erestor snarled, pushing between the two warriors. “Our focus should be Legolas, not your idiotic posturing.”

“As if you even cared. Spare me your false words, Councilor.” Thranduil snarled before walking out the gate. He could not even stomach the sight of Erestor at present.

“And I thought YOU were stubborn,” Erestor muttered to Glorfindel. “Follow him. Saes, bring Legolas back.”

“The things I do for you,” the golden warrior muttered.

***

Hours passed and those left behind in the caverns worried, paced and fidgeted. Vaidre sat calmly in the corner, her eyes locked on the door. She waited patiently with the rest of them in Legolas’ rooms.

Erestor was a wreck. He tried to figure out why the young prince had left. He jumped at the slightest noise, whipping around to stare at the door. Each time he was left disappointed.

“Have you made a decision?” Galadriel questioned softly. There was no need for her to clarify.

“I cannot abandon him,” The councilor whispered.

“Yes but do you love him?” Vaidre asked suddenly. “Can you let him feed from you without fear? Can you accept him as he is? If not, then you are better off leaving here and so is he.”

“I will not know until I try,” Erestor explained quietly.

“And if you fail Legolas will suffer. You will break his heart.” Vaidre said softly.

***

Legolas had not expected anyone to come after him. He should have known better. His father would not have simply accepted his decision. The prince certainly had not expected to see Glorfindel with his father. Of course, he would have preferred that they hadn’t interrupted his feeding either. He knelt crouched over the deer, the blood slipping down his chin and staining his leggings.

Thranduil took his son’s appearance in stride, but Glorfindel was a bit shocked to say the least. Blood smeared the prince’s lean body as somewhere along the way, Legolas had lost his tunic. The intensity of his gaze was not reduced by the glow and a low growl echoed around them.

“How many?” the king asked simply as he approached his son.

“Four.” Legolas growled.

“Are you still hungry?” Thranduil questioned. A nod was his only response. He noted how Legolas’ nostrils quivered and his eyes never elf the balrog slayer. In the second between one breath and the next, the prince moved.

Launching himself through the air, the younger blond hit Glorfindel square in the chest, riding the warrior to the ground. Sharp claws dun into the muscles at the lord’s shoulders. He gave a low snarl.

“His scent,” the prince rumbled. “Is all over you.”

The older warrior lifted his knee and launched Legolas into the air. Again the prince landed on his feet with a deft twist of his body. Slowly the golden warrior rose to his full impressive height. The sinda elf was undaunted.

“His scent is on me because I held him as he cried,” Glorfindel answered. “I am his friend and have been for many centuries.”

“Lovers?” Legolas asked, a piercing pain searing through his chest.

“We tried but it did not work out,” the Elda said with all honesty.

“Take him from here, from me,” the prince pleaded though the sound was deep and rough. “Keep him safe… happy.”

“I intend to,” Glorfindel said firmly. “That is why you will be returning to the caverns with your father and I.”

“I cannot,” Legolas said as he dropped to his haunches. “I am too dangerous. I cannot… control myself. I am weak. A monster, as you said.”

“You are my son and I love you,” Thranduil said softly.

“Mela le, Ada,” the prince said. “But I am a danger to everyone… I cannot go back.”

The two acts occurred simultaneously. Glorfindel’s shout came mere seconds after the younger sinda began shifting to the side. The ungol’s stinger pierced his upper shoulder instead of his heart. The prince was pissed. Snarling in rage and hatred for the foul beast, the young ellon grabbed the head of the giant arachnid. Lethal claws dug through the spider’s flesh easily.

Two more of the great beasts dropped from the trees. Despite what Ungoliant’s children might have thought, the three elves were not easy meals. In short order, there were three less giant spiders roaming Mirkwood.

Thranduil rushed to his son as the prince sank to his knees, panting heavily. Blood flowed profusely from his wound. Legolas stared in wonder at the red and black liquid mingling on his hands. A slightly hysterical chuckled slipped from his lips.

“It is red, so normal looking,” he laughed. “The only thing about me that is.”

“And there is entirely too much of it,” Glorfindel said as he tore his tunic into strips.

Between the two of them, Thranduil and Glorfindel got Legolas’ wound bandaged. Lifting him, the two warriors carried him swiftly back to the caverns of Mirkwood. Immediately the prince was taken to his rooms where chaos erupted until an irritated Elrond took control.

“ENOUGH!” the peredhel shouted. “Everyone out except Vaidre. You will assist me with him.”

Galadriel smiled softly. He had always had a bit of a temper, no matter how well he hid it. Rising gracefully from her chair, she and Celeborn left the room. Soon the others followed; everyone except Erestor. The dark-haired advisor stood frozen in place. His eyes were huge, reflecting his shock and fear as he stared at the blood soaked bandage and the streams of precious fluid running over the firm smooth muscles of Legolas’ chest and abdomen. Tears slowly began to slip down his pale cheeks. He could not move closer, nor could he step away.

Finally, Erestor simply sat down abruptly in the chair behind him. His hands curled in his lap once more. He watched in terrified silence as Elrond worked diligently to save Legolas’ life.

Several hours later, Erestor awoke to the sound of hushed voices. Opening tear swollen eyes, he watched Elrond and Thranduil as the two lords stood over Legolas’ bed.

“I have done all that I can,” the peredhel said. “He has lost a great deal of blood.”

“He usually heals very quickly,” the king sighed. “It seems I will lose my son sooner rather than later.”

“Do not lose hope, Thranduil.” Elrond encouraged softly.

“How can I not?” the blond lord said. “He lies in his bed unconscious. Even were he to wake, I will lose him to the shadows. He is my only child Elrond and I will lose him because of something I did centuries ago. Do you have ANY idea how that weights upon my heart? He suffers, has suffered his entire life, because of me.”

The lord of Imladris wrapped and arm around the King’s shoulder. Escorting the Sinda from the room, he whispered soothing words to the elf. It was all he could do for the king at that moment.

Erestor waited until the door closed behind the two ellyn. Rising from his chair, he pulled the dressing gown tightly around his body. Moving closer to the bed, his body trembled though he could not have said why. Legolas looked so… peaceful Erestor thought. He gently sat on the bed. Reaching out a hand, the dark-haired elf brushed a silken lock of pale blonde hair aware from the younger elf’s face. He felt an intoxicating zing as their flesh touched, smiled gently as he felt the response of his body and the warmth of his love for this unusual elf.

“There really was no choice to be made,” the councilor said as he shifted his position until he was lying to the lovely sinda prince. Lifting up on one elbow, he leaned down and gently placed a kiss on the pale unmoving lips of his beloved.

“Come back to me, Legolas,” he whispered.

After a few more sweet kisses, Erestor finally receive d a response. The tip of the prince’s tongue tentatively brushed his before retreating once more into the recesses of Legolas’ mouth.

“Oh no, A’maelamin,” the councilor chuckled. “I am not going to chase you. But I will accept you as my equal, my partner and my love.”

“Why would you… want any of that… with me?” Legolas asked hoarsely. “I am a … monster.”

“You are the ellon I love,” the advisor explained. “You have special needs but I fell in love with the elf I talked to during many evenings of my stay here, the one who had a lovely sense of humor, quick wit and a keen intelligence. That elf was you, Legolas.”

“I frightened you,” the prince pointed out. “By Elbereth, I attacked you.”

“I will not deny those facts,” Erestor said as he cupped Legolas’ cheek. “But that does not change how I feel about you.”

“But…”

“Enough talk for now,” the councilor said as he captured the prince’s mouth in a fiery kiss.

Immediately he was gathered into the Sinda’s embrace. Through the fabric of Erestor could feel Legolas’ response and moaned softly.

“Show me what you have learned, Legolas,” the dark-haired elf purred seductively as he pulled the blankets out of the way.

“I…” Legolas said as his eyes began to glow.

He pulled back from the councilor as his fangs lowered. Legolas tried to pull away but Erestor wouldn’t let him.

“I am not afraid,” The advisor replied as he ran a fingertip under the sinda’s lip to caress an incisor. The moan the gesture caused made him chuckle.

“Your mouth is very sensitive, gúren,” he said as he stroked along the lower lip. “Is it as sensitive as other portions of your royal anatomy?”

“I…“ Legolas purred as his eyes fluttered closed.

“I seem to have rendered you speechless,” Erestor chuckled once more. “Now I wonder if I can stop you from thinking so much.”

“Erestor,” Legolas growled. “I am… hungry.”

“You have lost a great deal of blood, gúren,” the councilor said. “And the lady Galadriel says it is I who can ease you. I offer you all that I am, Legolas Thranduilion.”

“No… you cannot.” The prince hissed. “I will not allow you to put yourself in such danger. I…”

Whatever else the sinda was going to say ended on a gasp of pleasure as Erestor stroked the length of his straining shaft. The councilor was in no mood to hear Legolas’ denials and orders. He knew what needed to be done in order to save his beloved from further suffering and not even the prince himself was going to prevent it.

Pushing Legolas back down onto the mattress, the dark-haired elf smiled as the glow from the prince intensified. He worked his mouth over the lean muscles of Legolas’ chest and shoulders, pausing at the healed wound. Tenderly he kissed it before continuing his journey to the taut peak of Legolas’ nipple.

The prince nearly arched off the bed as Erestor claimed the turgid bud of flesh. His body came alive with a myriad of sensation. The passion built within him as his lover moved lower and lower.

“Yes, Erestor,” he purred as he buried his fingers in inky silken waves.

“Still able to speak,” the councilor said with a wicked smile. “I will have to work on that.”

Legolas screamed. The sensation of Erestor’s mouth sliding down the length of his shaft in one hot rush was enough to eradicate any thoughts he might have had. He couldn’t focus long enough to form a coherent thought. His lover was driving him insane. He could feel the primal side of his nature rising, urging him to claim his mate.

Ambrosia that was the only way to describe the taste of his prince. With all the skill he possessed, Erestor continued to drive his beloved to the edge of pleasure. When strong hands gripped his shoulders and slowly pulled him up the sinda’s body, Erestor knew he had succeeded.

Blue white eyes regarded him with a predatory intent. His mouth was taken in a fierce kiss even as Legolas rolled him onto his back. A strong knee parted willing thighs and the prince settled between them with a low growl of pleasure.

Bodies writhed on the bed, pushing sheets and pillows to the floor. Little nips were placed along Erestor’s spine as the prince covered him. Each bite was lovingly soothed with a laving tongue and sweet kisses.

“Mela le, Erestor nin,” the prince purred as he rolled his love over once more. “More than my own life.”

“Then make us whole,” the dark elf whispered as he cupped Legolas’ face in his hands. “Take what you need of me, Ernilen.”

“And if I need all of you?” Legolas asked softly.

‘You have all of me.” Erestor responded.

With excruciating care, Legolas prepared his lover exactly as he had been taught. By the time the prince slipped the second finger within him, Erestor was cursing and blessing the thoroughness of his lessons.

Finally, Legolas deemed his partner ready. That and he could no longer resist the urge to be one with his beloved. He positioned himself at Erestor’s entrance. Then contact threatened his control as did the sweet moans and whimpers coming from the dark-haired elf.

Slowly he was breeched and Erestor let out a moan of relieved pleasure. He wrapped his legs around Legolas’ waist and gripped his shoulders as he savored the feel of the sinda’s hard shaft penetrating his body. He felt complete and whole in a way he never had before. It amazed him that it was all due to the young ellon making love to him at that precise moment.

I have…” Legolas groaned.

No words were truly needed. Each knew what the other was feeling. The heat was building between them. Mouths met in a fury of kisses. Tongues danced and breath mingled as Legolas began to move. Slowly he withdrew, watching the pleasure dance over Erestor’s face as he took a moment to breath. Shifting slightly, he thrust forward and smiled in a distinctly primal way when his lover gave a loud moan.

Minutes seemed like hours as Legolas kept the pace slow. His growls and purrs of pleasure did almost as much to drive Erestor crazy as the feel of his body moving inside the councilor’s passage.

“I can…” Erestor whispered. “I can feel… I can feel your hunger.”

“I will not.”

“Saes, A’maelamin,” the dark-haired elf pleaded. “Let me sate all your needs, your hungers.”

The look in Erestor’s eyes broke any and all resistance within Legolas. Gathering his love in his arms, he lifted them both and sat back on his haunches, pushing deeper into his lover’s body on a low moan.

Still the prince hesitated. Erestor could see it, feel it within the Sinda. Slowly he reached up with one hand and pulled his ebony hair to one side, the length spilling down the right side of his chest to pool between them. The silken strands teased their sensitive bodies, adding to their pleasure.

Erestor gasped at the heat in Legolas’ eyes. He tilted his head to one side, offering the pale line of his neck to his hungry lover. The prince gave a soft whimper at the sight and the councilor smiled. The love in his eyes was unmistakable.

Even as their bodies continued to move, the wood elf’s eyes ever left the luminescent flesh in front of him. With a sigh, Legolas stopped resisting the temptation. He placed his mouth gently against Erestor’s throat. Slowly his lips brushed back and forth, sensitizing the skin until his lover was moaning and whimpering in need. A low growl erupted from the prince as the advisor’s body clenched around him. The dark-haired elf was close.

Instinctively knowing how it would feel to his beloved, Legolas slowly bit down. His fangs pierced Erestor’s skin and the councilor gave a loud cry of pleasure, clutching Legolas to him as sensation overwhelmed him.

He rode on a wave of indescribable pleasure. Each draw of the prince’s mouth coincided with the thrusting of his body. Nothing he had ever experienced before compared to the overwhelming bliss flooding through him. Higher and higher they rose. The sensations swirled around them until nothing else existed save each other. In those ethereal moments, Legolas’ mind opened and Erestor knew all there was to know about the younger elf. He knew what he would become to Legolas in just a few moments. He would be everything to his prince.

Rapture the most addicting flavor he had ever tasted. Erestor’s blood flowed into his body, making each and every sensation more distinct. He felt his peak rush towards him, quickened by the liquid flooding his very being. Rhythmic movements became erratic as the two ellyn moved closer to the precipice of pleasure. Burning hot skin pressed against slick flesh. Erestor moaned at the dual assault upon his system. With another pull, his body exploded in a kaleidoscope of feelings. He screamed his lover’s name even as he jerked, spilling between their bodies. His beloved followed him. Quivering as each pulse of Legolas’ shaft inside his body sent shockwaves through him; Erestor could only cling to the prince.

Moaning quietly, the sinda elf lathed his bite mark with his tongue. Even now he could sense Erestor in every way. Slowly he lowered them to the bed before rolling to one side. Leaning down, he gently kissed his beloved. The dark haired elf smiled up at him sleepily.

“You learned your lessons well,” The councilor said.

“I had a most excellent teacher,” the prince said. “And now I must take care of him appropriately.”

Erestor snuggled back against the sheets as he watched the wood elf move about the room. One would never know Legolas had been close to death several hours ago. Dark eyes fluttered closed and Erestor dozed until he felt the gentle touch of his prince. He was bathed and cleansed with such care the councilor thought he would cry.

Then Legolas was beside him, wrapping strong arms about him in a loving embrace. Erestor snuggled once more and smiled in contentment. He was glad he had not let fear rule him.

“I do not know what I have done to be so blessed,” Legolas said quietly. “I can only try to be worthy of such a gift.”

“I am thankful to be one who thinks,” the dark-haired elf smiled. “Otherwise I may have let fear ruin something beautiful and unique. Life will never be boring with you, A’maelamin.”

“I will make sure of it,” the prince purred against Erestor’s neck.

What followed was a bout of leisurely lovemaking and peaceful sleep.

***

“I cannot.” Legolas whispered as he gripped Erestor’s hand.

The two elves stood at the entrance to the Mirkwood Caverns. His blue eyes were wide with trepidation. Not twenty feet away sunlight flooded the ground. Anor was high overhead at the peak of his journey. Behind him stood his father, Lindir, Vaidre and their guests. Each one offering their support.

“You can, A’maelamin,” the dark-haired elf said with a smile.

“I have not been out at noon since I was very young… not without a cloak. The lesson was… painful, gúren.”

“Do you trust me?” Erestor asked.

“What?” The prince said as his gaze shot to his mate.

“Do you trust me?” The councilor repeated as he took both of Legolas’ hands and stood in front of him.

“Yes,” the blond whispered.

Slowly the dark-haired elf stepped backward as he gazed into Legolas fear filled yet loving eyes.

“Mela le, Legolas nin,” Erestor whispered. “Bellas nin. Gerich gúren. Estelio nin.”

“Faeren,” Legolas responded softly as he stared into his mate’s eyes.

“Look up, Beloved,” the councilor smiled brightly.

Legolas slowly lifted his eyes from the face of his lover and into the light of Anor. The warmth on his face was welcoming and pain free. He spun around in a circle before turning a bright smile on Erestor. In the blink of an eye, he had the advisor in his arms, devouring his mouth in a fiery kiss.

The chuckles of their audience were cut short by a collective gasp. A glow surrounded the two ellyn until they were invisible to the naked eye. Music echoed through the air of the purest quality. Nothing in Middle Earth could match it.

“They are one,” Galadriel smiled. “As the Valar have decreed.”

Moments later Erestor, his cheeks bright with passion and just a little bit of embarrassment, stood before his dearest friend in the entire world.

“I told you so,” Glorfindel said with a smug smile as he crossed his arms over his broad chest.

“Brat,” Erestor laughed as they hugged. “I cannot wait until love sets its sights on you.”

“Not likely, Mellonen,” the balrog slayer snorted. “I had my chance.”

Galadriel smiled serenely even as her eyes twinkled in the returned warrior’s direction. Celeborn shook his head because he KNEW that look meant trouble. Thranduil and Elrond joined him in his expression of “There she goes again.”

That evening,Erestor and Legolas lay entwined in each other’s arms. Smiles of contentment graced their faces and all was right in their world.

“I wish this upon him,” the councilor murmured.

“Hm?” Legolas mumbled.

“I wish this kind of love upon Glorfindel,” Erestor explained. “He has been alone for too long.”

“You have me back in Anor’s light. Perhaps Glorfindel’s destined love dances to Ithil’s tune?”

“It would serve him right if he found someone as unique as you,” Erestor laughed. “And as stubborn.”

“Stubborn am I?” the prince growled with mock ferocity.

“Aye… incredibly stubborn and perfect.”

“Mela le, Erestor.”

“Mela le, Legolas gúren.”

Snuggling deeper into their bed, the two ellyn slowly drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms. High over head Ithil twinkled almost mischievously as the Lady of Light gazed upon her silvered fullness. Yes, Ithil’s tune was strong and it danced through the dreams of two ellyn destined for each other, weaving her magic.

But that is a tale for another time.

*****

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