PART 11
"Daddy?" Arwen called, glancing around the door. She saw Aewréd standing near the bed, carefully rewrapping his lord's wrist. Oromë helped to support Elrond, gently caressing his arm to soothe him.
Elrond looked up at the sound of his daughter's voice, smiling when he saw her peeking into the room just like she had done as an elfling.
"Yes, sweetheart?" he asked.
"May I come in?"
"I am almost finished," Aewréd said. Smiling brightly, Arwen gracefully moved to sit near her father's bed. The birdlike elf frowned as he set Elrond's hand down. The half-elf cocked his eyebrow at his healer. Aewréd cleared his throat.
"You're injuries are healing very well, my lord. I think in a month you should be well enough to finish your recuperation in your own quarters," he said rather primly. Elrond's eyebrow inched higher.
"Well," he said. "I suppose it is nice . . . to finally know one's date of liberation."
"I beg your pardon sir?" Aewréd said, tucking his bony hands into his sleeves. It was no wonder he was such good friends with Erestor, Arwen thought trying to keep from giggling at their similarities. Elrond smiled kindly.
"Nothing. Forgive me, Aewréd, I know I've . . . been a dreadful patient. You've done . . . very well to put up with me."
"Not at all, my lord. Healers make the worst patients. It is only to be expected that the more talented the healer, the more whining there will be," the thin elf said, offhandedly picking dirt from his tunic. Elrond blinked.
"Was that a . . . compliment or an insult?" he asked. Behind him, Oromë laughed.
"Thank you, Aewréd. I will make sure Elrond continues to take it easy," the Hunter said, gently tightening his hold on his husband.
"Yes, thank you Aewréd," Arwen said. "Father couldn't have a better healer." The slim elf cleared his throat, embarrassed by the praise. Without a word, he bowed to them and left.
Arwen dissolved into a fit of giggles. Rolling his eyes, Elrond leaned into the comfort of the Vala's strong embrace waiting for her to control herself.
"It seems my children . . . have all gone mad," he said with feigned despondency. Oromë chuckled again, brushing a kiss to his husband's hair. Arwen calmed down, giving the couple a fond smile.
"You are sounding better father. I know Aewréd ordered you not to speak much, but I didn't think you would be able to, not with your husband newly returned to you. If I hadn't seen my husband in millennia, I know I'd have a million questions for him."
"Your father has indeed asked me a million questions, but thankfully, our mental connection allows him to rest his voice even as he sates his curiosity," Oromë said.
"Oh, of course," the Evenstar said. She was a little jealous of their tight connection, wishing she would find someone to love her the way the Vala loved her father.
"Was there something . . . that you needed, sweetheart?" Elrond asked. She shook her head.
"No, I just wanted to drop by. Vende asked me to join her in horseback riding and a picnic. I might not make it home before you turn in and I wanted to see how you fared today."
"Riding?" Elrond asked, concerned. Arwen smiled gently at him, knowing what he was thinking.
"Don't worry father. I'm going with Vende's siblings, and her brothers are part of the guard. We won't go far and we'll stay well within the borders. We'll be perfectly safe." She patted his good hand to reassure him.
"If you're sure," he said, still looking skeptical.
"Do not worry, my love," Oromë interrupted. "I will know if any dark force comes near Imladris and I can alert your guard in time for Arwen to be brought home. She is quite safe."
Elrond turned to look his beloved in the eye. Arwen watched them as they conveyed their thoughts to each other. Finally, her father turned back to her and sighed.
"Very well, but . . . be careful," he said softly. The Evenstar smiled warmly, gently wrapping her father in a loose hug.
"I will be, father. I will see you tomorrow for breakfast," she said, kissing his forehead. Elrond nodded, watching her go.
"Do not worry, love," Oromë said, pressing the half-elf to his chest. "I have no sense of foreboding. Everything will be fine." Elrond turned to look his husband in the eye.
"You are right, and I don't feel anything evil either. But with everything that's happened, my family can't take another tragedy. I can't take another tragedy."
Oromë smiled, though it was sad. Elrond was instantly on his guard. "You will not have to, my love," the Vala said, but there was something in his voice that made Elrond uneasy.
"There is something else though, isn't there? What aren't you telling me?" he demanded, trying to lever himself up to look more directly at his husband. Oromë quickly moved to support him, not wanting Elrond to strain his injuries.
The half-elf studied the Hunter's eyes, and it made Oromë nervous. "Beloved," he said softly. There was a soft light of sympathy in his cat green eyes. It made Elrond's stomach clench. "You already know why I am uneasy."
Elrond looked down at the covers, his body sagging. For a long moment, he was very still and quiet. It worried Oromë, who reached out through their connection to see if everything was alright. In response to his silent request, the half-elf looked up.
"Yes, I suppose I do," he thought. The sadness flowing between them was almost tangible. Quickly, the Vala drew Elrond against him. He could feel his husband's tears through his thin shirt and his heart ached for his beloved. Not for the first time, he cursed fate that his half-elf must suffer so.
~~~
"This was such a lovely idea," Erestor said, craning his neck around to look at the gardens. Smiling brightly, he turned back to his young companion. Elrohir merely shrugged, picking at his food. He sat nervously opposite the advisor in the gazebo he had noticed on their last walk.
Erestor frowned. It had been Elrohir's idea to eat another lunch together and the advisor had instantly agreed, feeling that it was a perfect opportunity to keep his promise of watching the younger twin more closely. But ever since coming out here, the half-elf had seemed distracted.
Peeking a glance, Elrohir groaned inwardly. Erestor was frowning again, which hadn't been his intention. It was just that he couldn't stop thinking about what he wanted to do. It didn't help that Erestor looked particularly amazing today. He had forgone his usual somber robes for leggings and a loose tunic that showed hints of alabaster skin. The sight of it sucked all the liquid from Elrohir's throat.
The younger elf shook his head. How was he ever going to win Erestor's heart if he kept acting so timid? Elladan was right; he needed to act boldly. Straightening his shoulders, Elrohir stood up resolutely.
Erestor looked up at him, worry evident on his face. "Elrohir, what-?" he began but was stopped as the young half-elf hauled him to his feet. For a moment, they simply stared at each other.
Just as the advisor was once again going to ask what was wrong, Elrohir grabbed his waist and pulled him close. His lips closed over the startled advisor's, stealing his breath.
Erestor couldn't help the moan that escaped his throat. He knew he should stop this; Elrohir was probably just looking for companionship to ease the loss of his mother. But the feel of those soft lips against his, the warm tongue that had teased its way into his mouth, and the strong muscles holding him firmly against a hard body robbed him of all rational thought.
Elrohir was in paradise. The advisor in his arms tasted exceptionally sweet and he felt wonderful pressed against him. At first, there was very little reaction to his kiss. Erestor stood shocked in his embrace. But then, to Elrohir's amazement, the staid councilor began to respond. His slender hands slid up Elrohir's chest to wrap around his neck, pulling them closer. The young half-elf growled in pleasure.
Suddenly, Erestor stiffened again and quickly pulled away. Elrohir opened his eyes, feeling a little dazed from the kiss. The panic in the advisor's brown eyes brought him back to reality like a slap in the face.
Before he could react, Erestor had escaped his embrace and was running toward the house. Elrohir swore and quickly ran after him.
~~~
Looking up from the chessboard, Oromë turned toward the door expectantly. Elrond was about to question him when the doors suddenly burst open and a very flustered Erestor appeared before them. Before the half-elf could ask what was wrong, his youngest son rushed in.
"Erestor," he said. "Why did you run?"
Elrond watched his advisor back away from his son. Thoroughly confused, he turned to his husband for answers. The Vala watched all of this with an amused twinkle in his eye that Elrond knew very well, though his face betrayed nothing. He turned to his husband, knowing his questions.
"Your son has just kissed your chief advisor."
"Ah," Elrond said, as if that explained everything. Erestor glared at him.
"What do you mean, 'ah'? You're supposed to be very upset," Erestor said, hands on his hips. Elrond arched his eyebrow.
"I am?" he asked, looking completely serious, though inside he shared his husband's amusement. "Really? Because I was thinking . . . that it was about time." His voice was only a little scratchy now.
The expression on Erestor's face was priceless and Elrond couldn't help but chuckle. The advisor sputtered for a moment in surprise.
"But, my lord," he said. "I am his tutor and . . . well, it just wouldn't be right." Elrond tsked to hear his much-lauded advisor reduced to such asinine arguments.
"You haven't been Elrohir's tutor in . . . over two thousand years. Why should that . . . matter?" the elder half-elf asked, his throat beginning to burn. Sensing this, Oromë handed him a glass of water.
"Why should that matter?" Erestor parroted, beginning to pace the room. Hovering near the door, Elrohir watched the advisor. He had never seen him so agitated before.
Wishing to save his husband from having to strain his voice, Oromë broke in before Erestor could continue.
"Yes, that's what he asked. Really, Erestor, if you don't know the answer either, then what is the problem?" the Vala asked drolly, knowing that was exactly what his beloved wished to say. His little speech earned him a withering glare from the fidgety advisor.
"I did not ask your opinion," he said, some of his famous control returning to him. Elrond rolled his eyes.
"Don't be obtuse," he said, sipping his water. "You know . . . perfectly well that . . . Tauron knows my thoughts." Erestor stopped at the foot of the bed, glaring at his lord.
"It should matter because it is obvious that Elrohir is looking for comfort to deal with your current condition and the loss of his mother. He feels he cannot burden himself to you or his siblings because you are injured, Elladan has his own emotional issues to deal with and Elrohir feels he needs to support Arwen rather than find support from her. So, then he would obviously turn to his close tutors. Glorfindel is a mess at the moment, thus out of the question, and your son has already sought guidance from me, which appears to be insufficient. As I have given him some measure of reassurance and support, he undoubtedly has reached the conclusion that I could be even more comforting in the role of a lover. So, as you can see, there is a reason to be concerned. Your son has need of you," Erestor said, once again feeling in control now that he had a logical explanation for his agitation.
Behind him Elrohir stepped forward to refute Erestor's flawed assessment, but stopped as his father suddenly sat up, moving away from his husband. Elrond scowled at his advisor.
"That's the biggest load of bull I've ever heard," he growled, his sore throat making his words gravelly and harsh. Erestor stepped back in surprise of his lord's vehemence. Still annoyed, Elrond let Oromë push him back into his reclining position. "You two have been making puppy eyes at each other for the last millennia, so don't preach to me about his seeking comfort from you. Honestly, if that . . . explanation sounded at all plausible to you, than perhaps I should . . . rethink your position as head of my council."
The threat to his position caused Erestor to pale. Seeing this, Elrond rolled his eyes again and tugged on Oromë's shirt.
"Erestor," the Vala said, his voice a mere rumble like that of a lion's purr. "You know full well that Elrond would never dismiss you. Not only are you personally very dear to him, possess a keen intelligence, vast wisdom and a wealth of experience, but no one knows Elrond better than you do, and he's too old to break in anyone new." Oromë turned to smirk at the glare his husband gave him for the last comment. He quickly kissed the frown on the half-elf's forehead before returning his attention to the sulking councilor.
"Now, let's be completely honest. The real reason you're upset is that you're this close to getting something you've wanted for the past five thousands year, and you're afraid that it won't be what you think it is," the Vala said.
"You don't know what you're talking about. Elrohir hasn't even been alive that long."
"It isn't Elrohir that I speak of, not exactly anyway. I heard your thoughts when I married your lord. You thought there was nothing more beautiful than our love and you wished to have something very like it. Elrond has told you how he met me and we knew immediately that we were meant to be together. Ever since then, you have looked for the same thing, for lightening to strike, but that's nothing like what happened with Elrohir. You loved him from the moment of his birth, but as an uncle. Over time that love has turned into something more. Your love is as deep as our own, but it didn't happen the way you were expecting it to, so you doubt. Well, I'll alleviate all of your fears. Elrond is perfectly okay with your interest in his son. After all these years, he was afraid his sons would never get married."
"Hey!" Elrohir interjected. Elrond smirked at his son. Oromë ignored them both, moving to take Erestor's hands in his own in order to keep his attention.
"Your next argument would be that Elrond needs his sons to have heirs, which of course you know is ridiculous because my husband would never force any of his children to deny their hearts but even if he did, Elrohir is the youngest son and therefore has no need of an heir. So, there is absolutely no reason that you should storm in here and have Elrond tell his son he can't court you. You're just going to have to deal with this on your own," Oromë said. Elrond nodded in agreement.
Erestor opened his mouth to retort, but nothing came out. He shut it and then opened it again, clearly at a loss on how to respond. Finally, he closed his jaw with an audible click. Turning, he found Elrohir watching him expectantly. For a moment, they regarded each other, before the advisor averted his eyes and quickly left the room.
Surprised, it took the younger half-elf a moment to follow after him, but he was stopped at the door. "Elrohir," his father called. Impatiently, he turned to look at his father but it was the Vala who addressed him.
"Let him have a moment. You must give him some time. Erestor knows what I and your father said was correct. Now he has to come to terms with it and decide what he wants to do. Hovering over him will just agitate him further." The Hunter's deep rumble felt like it passed right through him and settled into his bones, leaving Elrohir loose and relaxed. It was disturbingly similar to his father's healing power.
Sighing, the younger elf retreated to his father's side, gratefully curling up against him. Elrond brushed a loving kiss to Elrohir's silky hair. "What were you thinking . . . kissing Erestor so soon?" he asked. "Erestor doesn't like surprises."
Elrohir sighed again. "I know, dad. It's just . . . I was so nervous and the words just wouldn't come and he looked so beautiful and . . ." He shrugged, unable to understand his own confused feelings.
Smiling indulgently, Elrond leaned against his husband as he held his youngest son close.
"You are right, my love," Oromë thought, gently stroking Elrond's hair.
"About what, beloved?" Elrond asked lazily.
"Children are indeed a great joy." Turning his head swiftly, Elrond punched his husband in the shoulder. Oromë only laughed, hugging the half-elf tightly. The elf-lord huffed in annoyance, but allowed the embrace.
"You're such an ass, Tauron," Elrond thought, which caused Oromë to laugh harder. Elrohir craned his neck to look at them, wondering if they had gone mad. He watched the range of emotions pass over their eyes, but beneath that Elrohir could see a deep love. Shaking his head, he returned it to his father's shoulder.