Resurrection 39

Resurrection

Part 39

Posted: January 26, 2007
Title: Resurrection
Author: Larien Elengasse

Summary: Thranduil looks for a new home; Gildor has an unusual experience.

*****

Thranduil led an expedition, which included Lindir, Gildor, several of his warriors, and Legolas. They traveled northeast, to a group of low-lying hills near the edge of the great wood. There the Forest River delved beneath ground and had already started what Thranduil wished to finish: a home where his people would remain safe.

It was a four-day journey in all, and was relatively uneventful. They saw only wolves, deer, and various other forest creatures on their journey. At night, Lindir and Thranduil stole kisses and caresses after Legolas fell asleep, and while the prince was awake, they were careful in their contact. Thranduil knew he needed to talk with Legolas regarding how he felt about Lindir, but he had yet to find what was the right moment.

As they made camp near the hills they had come to explore, he caught sight of his son out of the corner of his eye. Legolas was carrying a bagful of blackberries that he picked from bushes growing along the river. He watched as his son walked up to Lindir and held out the bag, offering the minstrel some fruit. Lindir smiled and accepted the offering, reaching out to touch Legolas’ cheek in thanks. Legolas sat the bag down and wrapped his arms around Lindir’s waist. Lindir caressed his son’s hair then they exchanged quiet words. After the brief conversation was finished, Legolas jogged away with the bag, casting a smile back over his shoulder at Lindir.

“What was that about?” Thranduil asked as he approached.

Lindir looked at him and smiled. “He told me that he was glad that I made you happy, and that he hoped I would stay.” He leaned in and spoke softly. “He said he was happy that we were in love.”

Thranduil laughed and placed his arms around Lindir. “He is always one step ahead of me. All this time I have been trying to find the words to say, worried about how he would feel, and all this time he has known.”

“The innocence of youth is often the most insightful time in our lives,” Lindir responded, smiling as his lover nuzzled his neck.

“Legolas has always had a special gift of understanding; he must have inherited that from his mother.”

“He will make a fine prince, my love,” Lindir answered.

* * * *

Legolas approached Gildor and tapped the warrior on the shoulder. “Is this where we shall live?” he asked.

Gildor looked at the prince. “That is your father’s decision, my liege. However, this does look to be an easily defendable location, particularly if you live underground.”

Legolas frowned. “Living underground must be strange. I cannot imagine not hearing the trees at night, or seeing the stars.”

“It does take some getting used to, but I think you will find it has some advantages.”

“Like what sort of advantages?”

“Well, in the winter, when the cold rain falls, you will be warm and dry inside. You can have fire in your hearth, and a kitchen that allows your cooks to make anything they want. You can have soft rugs on your floors and indoor baths, and you will never have to worry about unwanted visitors invading your home.”

Legolas nodded. “I suppose those are advantages. But what about trees and seeing the stars at night?”

“Well then, you go outside and climb trees, and sit in their boughs to watch the stars.”

Legolas smiled. “There are fine trees here for climbing. And look what I found! Blackberries, just like at home!” He held out the bag. “They are sweet, try one.”

Gildor reached in and plucked a berry out of the bag and popped it in his mouth. “Mmm, yes they are sweet.”

“I followed the river a pace and found a small waterfall and a pond where we can swim. Will you let me show you?”

“You wandered off, alone?”

Legolas snorted. “As if father’s warriors would ever let me go anywhere alone. No, Gelmir followed me with two of his archers. Come, let me show you, please?” He took Gildor’s hand.

Gildor smiled. “Aye, my prince; I shall follow you.”

Legolas grinned. “I like having my very own elf lord as a friend.” He winked.

Gildor chuckled. “And I like having my very own prince as a friend as well.”

* * * *

Gildor followed the prince down a winding path through the woods. He smiled as Legolas asked him questions about Imladris and his travels, always wanting to know what the wide world outside of Greenwood was like. After climbing a low hill, they came upon a small lake with a gentle waterfall.

As Gildor scanned the landscape, looking for potential danger, the prince stood on the rise of the hill, his chin tilted upward and eyes closed, with the most subtle of smiles curving his lips as Anor’s rays bathed him in her golden light. As Gildor gazed upon the young Sinda, he found himself enrapt. Legolas was long and lanky, but not coltish as so many young males his age were; the prince was elegant even in stillness. His flaxen hair hung straight down his back, and his long arms seemed to be draped at his sides, rather than hanging limply. It was as if he were having a silent communion with Anor; only she and the prince knew what passed between them. Gildor could not turn his gaze away; Legolas was indeed the single most beautiful elf he had ever seen.

He watched as the prince raised one arm, placing a long-fingered hand on one hip, his body turning as he lowered his chin and turned his head. Slowly, what once was a subtle smile of satisfaction broadened into a more radiant one, and Gildor felt his heart stop. Fathomless blue eyes framed by honeyed lashes slowly blinked and refocused, peering deep into Gildor’s own eyes.

Legolas gazed back at Gildor, knowing in his heart that finally the one he had been waiting for had come. True, he was too young to understand love in its physical form; nonetheless, he recognized love in its most spiritual form. His father and Lindir shared both, and one day, so would he and Gildor. Ice blue eyes gazed back at him, betraying a wounded heart and a fear of trusting again. Still, Legolas saw in Gildor’s eyes what he hoped the warrior saw in his own, a total and profound recognition of what was to be.

The prince extended his hand, long fingers languidly unfurling like a spring bud opening to Anor’s rays. “Come,” Gildor heard the prince say. “It is warm; swim with me.”

Gildor moved slowly, as if he were mired in a bog of some sort, struggling to rise above the fog in which he seemed to be enveloped. He climbed the few steps to where the prince stood, and took Legolas’ slighter hand in his own. His skin was so soft, he felt so delicate still, possessed as he was of a youth’s form. Despite the youth of his body, the prince’s spirit seemed to possess a wisdom and quiet assurance that Gildor thought he had never known himself.

Legolas looked down at the larger, battle-toughened hand that held his gently. The slightly rougher skin of the warrior’s hand felt good wrapped around his own. What Legolas would need to know, Gildor could teach him, and what Gildor needed to feel, Legolas would give him. With a gentle tug, he guided the elder warrior down the low rise in the hill to the water’s edge. Today was the day when he would tell Gildor of their future; he was confident that the warrior would understand.

Legolas slipped off his boots, then proceeded to remove his tunic, undershirt, and leggings. He smiled as he spied Gildor diverting his eyes as he disrobed. Legolas knew it was a gesture of respect, not one of shame. Gildor followed his lead, removing his boots and stripping down to his undergarment. Legolas had been around many warriors in this state, so he was familiar with male nudity. However, he could not help but study Gildor’s form when the warrior’s back was turned. One day, he would know that body as well as he knew his own.

He climbed onto a low, flat rock, cast a smiling glance at Gildor, then leapt into the water. He then watched as the warrior followed his lead, mounting the low rock then diving in, barely causing a ripple. He grinned broadly as Gildor surfaced, entwining his fingers and quickly pushing the heels of his hands together, causing a jet of water to spurt from between his hands, splashing Gildor between the eyes.

A giggle escaped him, a youthful sound that still clung to his voice despite the fact that he was approaching his majority. Gildor wiped his face and chuckled in return, a warm, slightly husky sound that caused Legolas to smile even broader.

“Forgive me,” Legolas said, still grinning broadly. “I could not resist.”

Gildor could not help but notice the deep, warm undertone the prince’s voice contained; he was at that age when he would begin to sound less like an elfling, and more like an ellon. It sounded like the taste of molasses .

They floated upon their backs, basking in Anor’s light and enjoying the cool, invigorating water as it bore them up. Large birds circled overhead, and one dove into the water near Legolas, coming up with a fish in its talons.

“Did you see that?” Legolas asked excitedly.

“I did,” Gildor answered.

“I have never seen birds hunt fish before.”

“Some do; the larger ones at any rate.”

“I think you are right, Gildor. This place will make a good home for our people.”

Gildor smiled. “You are a good prince to put your people ahead of yourself.”

“Father says it is what a good ruler does, and I have watched him and grandfather do it all my life.” He swam over to where Gildor floated. “I would like to go ashore now and lay in the light. Do you want to come with me?”

Gildor nodded. “Aye, I shall follow you, my prince.”

Legolas smiled and swam away.

They lay on a smooth flat rock, letting Anor’s light warm and dry their skin and damp undergarments. Legolas lay on his stomach, his arms folded and his hands tucked beneath his head. Gildor lay on his back, the warrior’s hands folded behind his head as he watched the clouds move overhead.

“Can I tell you something?” Legolas asked quietly.

“Anything,” Gildor answered.

“Do you promise not to become upset or to leave me once I have said it?”

Gildor frowned as he looked at Legolas. What could the prince have to say that could be so worrisome? “Aye. I will not leave you, my prince. I promise.”

Legolas took a deep breath. “You and I are going to be lovers one day.”

Gildor lay in stunned shock. “You . . . you are so young.” he said softly; in his heart, the truth began to grow clearer.

“Do you not believe me?” Legolas asked wide-eyed.

“I . . . I know not what to believe.”

Legolas reached out and clasped Gildor’s hand. “Do not be afraid, Gildor. I know love scares you, but it does not always turn out like it did for you and Erestor.”

“How . . . how do you know about Erestor?”

“I am but a young elf, and those who do not know me sometimes do not recognize that I am a prince. I heard talk in Lindon; I know why you left and came with Lindir. I am not Erestor, Gildor; I know what I want.”

“You are too young to know this.”

“Too young to know love of the body, but not too young to know love of the heart.”

“Yes, too young for both, Legolas. You have not even had your first kiss. How can you know that I am the one you want? You do not know me.”

“I understand why you say these things. I am young and you are ancient. You have seen many things that I have not. You have had many experiences that I have never shared, but I know something you do not.”

“What is that?”

“I know that it is my lack of experience that allows me to see more clearly than you do. I do not feel like I have to protect myself, and I have not suffered pain that I must rise above. I know that I love you, even though I cannot show you. I know that when I come of age, it is you that I wish to share my first kiss with, it is you that I wish to give myself to. I hope you will be here when that day comes, and I hope that you will feel the same way then.” He climbed to his feet. “I promise, I will not mention this again.”

Gildor sat up slowly as the prince donned his clothes.

*****

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