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floatingleafI am pretty much in a state of shock at this point, considering the endless creative draught I've just emerged from... but here goes another one. Very short this time and a little unexpected, character-wise, but it needed to be written. Lord Elrond, who is a powerful behind-the-scenes presence in my 'twins universe' (*chuckles*), suddenly demanded that I give him a voice. And here is what he had to say.
Title: Visions
Author: Floating Leaf
Pairing: A/L (implied)
Rating: PG
Summary: Lord Elrond's musings.
Disclaimer: All characters mentioned belong to Tolkien.
Lord Elrond smiled indulgently to himself at the sound of quiet, cautious footsteps moving past the half-open door to his chamber. He was certain that the night wanderer did not expect him to be still awake, or he would have glided by without making any sound at all. They obviously still believed him completely ignorant of Legolas' frequent visits to Estel's bedroom. What's more, they believed he would be extremely angry if he found out. Elrond shook his head. Perhaps he should be angry - but only because Estel acted in youthful defiance, thinking he was doing something forbidden. And angry he would have been indeed, had he suspected Legolas of taking advantage of the innocent human boy, of carelessly playing with his body and his heart. But Lord Elrond knew better. He was blessed with the gift of foresight, after all. The visions that came to him in the night were ominous and troubling to behold, but they were not without hope or reassurance. He saw his foster son - no longer a fresh-faced youth, but a man in his prime, with a stubbled jaw and lines of deep concern upon his brow - standing bravely in the midst of battle, Flame of the West in the sure grip of his callused hand, with Legolas, fierce and beautiful like an ancient god of destruction, right by his side, unleashing a whirlwind of arrows to protect him. He saw Aragorn wounded, suffering from a high fever induced by a poisoned blade, his head cradled lovingly in Legolas' lap while the Elven prince watched over his recovery. He saw them sharing a bedroll in the wild, Aragorn's peaceful face illuminated by the flickering light of the fire, Legolas' slender frame wrapped around his back to shield him from the cold. He saw Aragorn - nay, Elessar - in a festive tunic bearing the insignia of the White Tree of Gondor, Mithrandir placing the ancient crown upon his head, while the crowds cheered and Legolas looked on, eyes alight with glowing pride and devotion. He saw Legolas upon a ship, hair streaming in the wind, face streaked with tears, lost in memory - and knew with painful certainty that in this moment his human son was no longer among the living, for the Elven prince would not have sailed otherwise.
No, he would not scold or lecture Thranduil's son on the consequences of taking Estel's virginity. He would rather thank him – but that would require explanations and sharing his burden of knowledge about the future. A burden which was meant for his shoulders alone. Estel is still unaware of his Numenorean heritage, after all. It will be time to tell him, soon... but not yet. Let him remain young and carefree for another season or two. Let him roam the gardens of Rivendell as though the world ended here, and let him have the love of a beautiful Elven prince who cares not for his lineage, but for his pure and noble heart. It is this love he will draw strength from when times grow dark. Elrond turned over in his bed, resolving to feign ignorance while the lovers strengthened their physical and spiritual bond. He did not mind if they thought him ancient and not sharp enough, or too buried in his books, to see what was going on right under his nose. He only wished he could tell them to stop sneaking around like that, trying to hide. But on the other hand... maybe that added an extra thrill to their budding relationship. Chuckling at the thought, the Elven lord snuggled deeper into his pillow and allowed dreams and visions to claim him at last.
The End
Title: Visions
Author: Floating Leaf
Pairing: A/L (implied)
Rating: PG
Summary: Lord Elrond's musings.
Disclaimer: All characters mentioned belong to Tolkien.
Lord Elrond smiled indulgently to himself at the sound of quiet, cautious footsteps moving past the half-open door to his chamber. He was certain that the night wanderer did not expect him to be still awake, or he would have glided by without making any sound at all. They obviously still believed him completely ignorant of Legolas' frequent visits to Estel's bedroom. What's more, they believed he would be extremely angry if he found out. Elrond shook his head. Perhaps he should be angry - but only because Estel acted in youthful defiance, thinking he was doing something forbidden. And angry he would have been indeed, had he suspected Legolas of taking advantage of the innocent human boy, of carelessly playing with his body and his heart. But Lord Elrond knew better. He was blessed with the gift of foresight, after all. The visions that came to him in the night were ominous and troubling to behold, but they were not without hope or reassurance. He saw his foster son - no longer a fresh-faced youth, but a man in his prime, with a stubbled jaw and lines of deep concern upon his brow - standing bravely in the midst of battle, Flame of the West in the sure grip of his callused hand, with Legolas, fierce and beautiful like an ancient god of destruction, right by his side, unleashing a whirlwind of arrows to protect him. He saw Aragorn wounded, suffering from a high fever induced by a poisoned blade, his head cradled lovingly in Legolas' lap while the Elven prince watched over his recovery. He saw them sharing a bedroll in the wild, Aragorn's peaceful face illuminated by the flickering light of the fire, Legolas' slender frame wrapped around his back to shield him from the cold. He saw Aragorn - nay, Elessar - in a festive tunic bearing the insignia of the White Tree of Gondor, Mithrandir placing the ancient crown upon his head, while the crowds cheered and Legolas looked on, eyes alight with glowing pride and devotion. He saw Legolas upon a ship, hair streaming in the wind, face streaked with tears, lost in memory - and knew with painful certainty that in this moment his human son was no longer among the living, for the Elven prince would not have sailed otherwise.
No, he would not scold or lecture Thranduil's son on the consequences of taking Estel's virginity. He would rather thank him – but that would require explanations and sharing his burden of knowledge about the future. A burden which was meant for his shoulders alone. Estel is still unaware of his Numenorean heritage, after all. It will be time to tell him, soon... but not yet. Let him remain young and carefree for another season or two. Let him roam the gardens of Rivendell as though the world ended here, and let him have the love of a beautiful Elven prince who cares not for his lineage, but for his pure and noble heart. It is this love he will draw strength from when times grow dark. Elrond turned over in his bed, resolving to feign ignorance while the lovers strengthened their physical and spiritual bond. He did not mind if they thought him ancient and not sharp enough, or too buried in his books, to see what was going on right under his nose. He only wished he could tell them to stop sneaking around like that, trying to hide. But on the other hand... maybe that added an extra thrill to their budding relationship. Chuckling at the thought, the Elven lord snuggled deeper into his pillow and allowed dreams and visions to claim him at last.
The End
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Date: 2008-08-22 03:32 am (UTC)Thank you so much for commenting! *hugs*