A Midnight State of Mind

Legolas walked the celebrations with a smile fixed in place. Arwen was happy, Aragorn was happy, Elrond was pretending... well, Elrond had to pretend, of course, his daughter was going to her eventual death against his wishes, his counsel, his needs... Elladan was happy and Elrohir...

Elrohir looked sad, somehow, sombre in his fine indigo silks.

Difficult to time it so that he looked only when Elrohir was not looking, but that was what he had agreed; secrecy, discretion; left to himself, Legolas would have shared the news, loudly and joyously, but that wasn't Elrohir's way and he respected that.

The celebration square was starting to empty, finally, even the most energetic of dancers beginning to consider continuing horizontally elsewhere. Not long now, less than an hour...

Suddenly he needed to get away from the remains of the festivities, out under clear skies to clear his mind, to put this exuberant marriage out of his head and prepare for his more proper, elegant tryst.

He left the square and took a walk up to the next level of the city, looking out over the plains below, down onto the lower levels. So much stone oppressed him, somehow; he was a creature of the forest and so much unnatural structure made him fundamentally ill at ease.

Although there was something else, too, something making his nerves jitter and prance like a horse ready for the race...

Something was wrong; he could smell smoke. Not wood smoke, but bitter, acrid, chemical smoke, like some of the blasting fire he'd seen at Helm's Deep...

Pinpointing the source of it, he ran to seek help, down the levels.

Gimli, half asleep in a corner, saw him pass and came awake.

'Hey, Elf! What are you up to now?'

'Gimli!' Legolas paused in an instant. 'Blasting fire on the second level, near one of the armouries.'

The Dwarf struggled up from his corner, muttering and swearing, stumping off after Legolas to rouse the guard.

It was hours before Legolas could get away. A small but determined group of dissidents had infiltrated the city disguised as revellers and had set out to do what damage they could in a series of attacks on armouries throughout the city. Legolas had tell and retell his story, scout the walls seeking the scent of more blasting smoke, and then once Faramir, the Steward had arrived, to go through it again with him. Gimli saw his shoulders stiffen and then slump as he was asked to show Faramir exactly where...

'Let me, lad,' Gimli said. 'I was there too, remember? You get off.'

'Thank you, Gimli.'

He hurried – no, he raced – back up through the levels of the city, noting as he ran that the stars were fading in the sky as the blue of day began to push against the darkness of the night.

Aware that he was late – very late, now, and hoping Elrohir hadn't given up on him and gone to bed alone and angry, he increased his speed, coming out at the edge of the Celebration Square with an apology in his mouth just in time to sense, rather than hear his name whispered in despair and see something fall in a shadowed corner, fall and lie curled and still.

'Elrohir!' He gasped the name in fear and grief and hurried over to kneel at the side of his beloved's still form, to pull him up into his arms, calling his name over and over, desperate for a response.

His love was growing cold in his arms.

'No... no, you cannot...'

He dragged himself and his beloved across the square, out of the darkness to rest under the last of the glittering stars, rocking the body, trying to warm him. He swallowed against tears, refusing to allow this, determined to go through with the long held promise no matter what.

'I swear... I, Legolas son of Thranduil, child of the Greenwood, I swear to bind myself to you, Elrohir, son of Elrond, child of Celebrian, fëa to fëa, hröa to hröa, under the stars of our birth until death takes us or the skies fall away... to love you, only you, from now until time's ending... and so I swear under the witness of the stars we love and Eru Ilúvatar, who sees all... by the Valar who love us and whom we love... to cleave to you always in love and honour...'

He pressed his lips to the cold forehead.

'Elrohir? Ro, it's your turn now, your turn... come, wake for me... we cannot be properly vowed unless you say it too... Ro...? Have you forgot?' He rocked his love in his arms and his own tears fell to slide down the dried runnels on Elrohir's face. 'You start with your name, love, your name... you say, I, Elrohir...'

His tears continued to fall and slide until, mingling, they trickled into the corner of Elrohir's mouth, the salt taste of loss and longing.

Elrohir gasped, his mouth suddenly full of the flavour of love, its gall and its honey mingling and his sight cleared to see Legolas bent over him weeping, chanting, almost.

'You turn, Ro, your turn, your name, begin with your name... I, Elrohir, that's what you say...'

Elrohir licked his lips, tasting the sweet salt, and stirred, and Legolas almost fell on him, clutching him tight and sobbing into him. Somehow his hands came up to stroke the riches of Legolas' hair, to feel the warmth of his skin, and he remembered; they were to take vows tonight, to bind themselves forever... had he missed Legolas' promise?

'What... did you say?'

Legolas laughed and cried and staggered through his vows again, pausing this time after each phrase to look into Elrohir's amazing eyes, to see the life flooding back into them, and he shivered at the end of his speech, realising how close he had come to losing this precious, precious being forever.

Elrohir nodded and sat himself up, taking Legolas' hands in his.

'I, Elrohir son of Elrond, child of Celebrian, swear to bind myself to you, Legolas son of Thranduil, child of the Greenwood... fëa to fëa, hröa to hröa, under the stars of our birth, until death takes us or the skies fall away... to love only you, from now until time's ending... and so I swear under the witness of the stars we love, in sight of Eru Ilúvatar, who sees all... by the Valar who love us and whom we love... to cleave to you always in love and honour, and so let it be.

'And so let it be,' Legolas whispered.

Done, vowed, forever bound together. Now, finally, Elrohir allowed himself to pull back in wounded pride.

'You were late!'

'I know, I am so sorry... we should have spent the evening together, then you would have known... I uncovered a plot and had to get help and by the time it was all sorted out...' Legolas paused in his tumbled explanation. 'But... don't you think you were over-reacting a little?'

'You said midnight!'

'I know! Unfortunately, midnight seems to be the hour for attempted terrorist attacks as well as for lovers' trysts... I am sorry... but... well, I was in a midnight state of mind when I said my vows, even if it was later...'

Elrohir sighed.

'I just... seeing you with the dwarf today...'

'What?'

'Sorry. And...'

'Gimli and I are friends, only. But for him, I would be dead many times over... and, after all, I am not jealous of the bond you have with Elladan... I hope you will not mind that I have a friend... besides, he is in love with Galadriel...'

'With Grandma?' Elrohir snorted a laugh. 'Seriously?'

'Very seriously. Just ask him. Or her. Now, come.' Legolas got to his feet and held out his hands. 'Let's get you home. I think after all this excitement you need a lie down, do not you?'

Elrohir cast his arm around Legolas' shoulder.

'That sounds like a very good idea, melleth-nin.'