Temperance

Temperance

Posted: June 29, 2007
Title: Temperance
Series: The Sons of Elrond
Sequel to: Expectations
Author: Eresse
Type: FCS
Characters: Elrohir/Legolas, Elladan, Erestor, Glorfindel, Elrond and Celebrían
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The characters belong to the wizard of storytelling himself, JRR Tolkien and/or his estate. No offense is intended or profit made in my use of them.
Prompt: 055. Spirit
Word Count: 1378

Summary: An ill-conceived misadventure earns the twins much more than they bargained for.

*****

“Elrohir, please rouse yourself.”

“Let me be, Elladan. My head is splitting.”

“As is mine. But there are far worse things than a headache.”

The statement was followed by the sound of someone clearing this throat. Elrohir stiffened then raised his head off his pillow and turned it, warily unclosing his eyes. The countenance of his father swam into view. A most displeased countenance.

Though his head throbbed wretchedly, Elrohir hastily turned around and sat up. It proved a mistake for his stomach protested the sudden movement and chose to unburden itself then and there. Elrohir found himself heaving up its contents into a chamber pot that had been quickly shoved under his mouth. Once he was done, he weakly raised his head to thank the Elf who had come to his aid. Sympathetic sapphire eyes met his own bleary grey and he felt sick all over again.

“I am sorry, Legolas,” he managed to croak.

“For overindulging in drink or for absconding with it in the first place?” Legolas mildly retorted.

Elrohir looked at the floor, willing it to open up and swallow him whole. A sidelong glance at Elladan told him his twin would gladly join him in an instant. Another glance behind their father informed him of the reason for Elladan's discomfiture.

Erestor and Glorfindel looked on reprovingly. The younger twin groaned inwardly. Neither Elf was a laggard in the consumption of liquor but both acknowledged what they could tolerate and expected others to likewise refrain from going beyond their limits. They would deem it galling that their two most able students should flout this particular lesson when they were supposed to be examples to their peers. Ah, there would be no peace to be found with these two today.

A cool, gentle hand cupped his hot cheek and he looked up into his mother's slightly anxious face.

“Can you stand up?” Celebrían queried. Elrohir nodded and did so.

Lowering their eyes to avoid the gazes of their largely reproachful audience, the twins followed their parents to the healing halls where Elrond dosed them with a noxious brew designed to counter the effects of the wine they had imbibed the night before. Celebrian thought it punishment enough for her sons' folly. Not so Elrond who chided them as soon as they were clear-minded enough to withstand a scolding.

Nor did it stop there.

“I doubt anything I say will make sense to you this morn, let alone stay in your minds long enough to join what store of knowledge you have somehow managed to gain,” Erestor tartly told them when they stumbled and stuttered their way through the first lessons of the day. “Get yourselves to the archery yard. Mayhap Glorfindel will find better use for you.”

But they fared no better with Glorfindel who coolly inquired whether they could see straight enough to ensure they did not loose their arrows into the wrong targets. “The next time you contemplate a career in thievery, do inform me beforehand that I need not trouble myself trying to make warriors out of you,” he said in a voice edged with acerbity and disappointment.

Elrohir did not need to look at Elladan to know that his twin was close to tears. They both were but, being the elder, Elladan would feel the sting of the captain's lowered regard more keenly. He was the heir apparent after all and much was expected of him. His misery proved more than Elrohir could bear.

“'Twas I who suggested taking the wine,” he earnestly confessed. “Indeed, Elladan tried to stop me but I would not desist. Please do not be so hard on him.”

“Yet he joined you once you had the wine in hand,” Glorfindel pointed out. “That hardly absolves him of transgressing.”

“But-”

“You are kind to try and take all the blame upon yourself, brother,” Elladan interrupted. “But Glorfindel is right. We are both at fault and must bear the consequences together.”

After a moment's hesitation, Elrohir sighed and nodded. Neither twin protested the additional chores given them as chastisement. Not the polishing of the weapons in the armory or the peeling and chopping of vegetables for the day's meals or even cleaning out the stables, a chore they heartily despised. By nightfall, their spirits were at their lowest and they were both quite ready to swear off all alcoholic libations however tame.

Thus, they were quite surprised when upon entering the Hall of Fire that evening their parents welcomed them, Elrond as warmly as Celebrian. Both clung to him a trifle longer than usual as much in relief as in gratitude. Headed for their favorite couch afterward, they were hailed by Erestor and Glorfindel who were about to begin a game of Strategy.

The tacit invitation brought a smile to Elladan's face and he eagerly strode toward the two. About to follow, Elrohir was waylaid by a friendly grip on his wrist. Legolas led him to a nearby settee instead and bade him sit with him.

“I trust you are recovered from your day's penance,” he softly said.

“Somewhat,” Elrohir mumbled, his discomfort not quite eased.

“Why did you take the wine?” Legolas pressed.

Elrohir gulped, suddenly wishing he were at Elladan's side. “We are forbidden to take anything stronger than what Father deems within our tolerance,” he admitted. “It made me envious when you brought out the Dorwinion last night and shared it with everyone and we could not have even a taste of it.”

“You could have asked me,” Legolas commented.

Elrohir shook his head. “I knew you would not go against my father's rule in this.”

“And so you thought to sneak a taste. But it was more than a taste judging from the state you were in.”

“That is not so. We only drank one cup apiece.”

“Then how did you come to be intoxicated?”

Elrohir's cheeks burned. “We did not know how potent Dorwinion is and doubly so when taken on top of other liquor,” he meekly explained. “At least, as far as Peredhil are concerned.”

Legolas considered this carefully. “Then your father's rule is rooted in more than principle,” he remarked. “You are more susceptible to strong drink than most Elves.”

“Than all Elves,” Elrohir corrected. He bowed his head. “I know it is to protect us that Father restricts our intake of spirits. He does not wish ill to befall us.”

“And he has good reason to fear the worst with sons as beauteous as you. It would deeply distress him were you not in full possession of your senses when you consent to intimate relations with anyone.”

Elrohir turned startled eyes on the archer. “No one would dare...” he began to say. He faltered then rallied and declared: “Elves do not take what is not freely given!”

“And who is to say a drunken yea is not freely given?” Legolas pointed out. “Not all Elves would abstain from taking advantage of a golden opportunity. Your family history attests to this.” Seeing Elrohir's wide-eyed response, he frowned. “You had not thought of that. Forgive me, 'twas not my place to speak to you thusly.”

“Nay, 'tis good of you to voice your concern,” Elrohir assured him. “It does not pay to be ignorant of the less admirable qualities of any kindred. I thank you for enlightening me.”

The archer regarded him thoughtfully. After a space, a slow roguish smile curved his lips.

“Will you be so thankful when you realize altruism alone did not compel me to speak as I did?” he said.

Elrohir stared at him. An instant later his face crimsoned in a full-blown blush. “You presume too much,” he stammered.

Legolas softly laughed. “Do I? Must I ply you then with drink to gain your compliance?”

The younger twin caught his breath then turned his flaming face away for a spell. He felt Legolas take his hand and weave their fingers together. He glanced at the archer and saw that the latter was looking at him with candid appreciation. His embarrassment diminished as pleasure gradually took its place. He returned Legolas' gaze, his eyes beginning to sparkle once more.

“I did not quite speak the truth,” he murmured.

“Regarding what?” Legolas asked.

“That you presume too much.”

*****

THE END

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