SWORDS AND PACIFIERS
This chapter has now been beta-read by the wonderful Eveiya. Thank you!
Rating: PG to PG-13, depending on the chapter (don't rise your hopes, though. I'm hopelessly vanilla.)
Category: slash, humour, AU (very!), some angsty bits as well
Pairings: Erestor/Glorfindel
Other pairings mentioned: Haldir/Rabbit, Aragorn/Arwen, Elrond/somebody (female), Elladan/somebody else (male)
Warnings: mpreg and revolting food cravings
Thanks go to: The Magic Rat, Nic, MajorClanger, Anand (official bad influence), Kharessa, Lyric, and all the gentle souls who have sent feedback for the previous stories.
Author's note: "Meanwhile, back in Imladris …" – this chapter is not told from Erestor's p.o.v., as he does not know what is going on over at the Last Homely Healing House – and who could blame him, he really has other things to think of at the moment...
CHAPTER 4 - Interlude
Elladan knew immediately who his visitor was when he heard the short, sharp rap on the door. It was not a request to enter the Healing House - it was a demand.
"Come in, Orophin", he called, and carefully put away the tome with frivolous illuminations from the 2nd age he had nicked from the library. It was one of many from Gil-Galad's private collection ("for Elrond, my loyal herald"), and Elladan, whose experience on the field of romance and bodily pleasures was fairly limited, found the book to be most inspiring, but he preferred not to be caught red-handed, so to speak, and the mere thought of Orophin's disapproving look and stern features gave him the cold shivers. Like all of the Lórien Elves, he had this air of perfection which Elladan equally admired and annoyed.
For Elladan himself was far from being perfect. He had never understood why everybody was fussing over the "amazing likeness" between him and his brother; their differences were so obvious the only conclusion Elladan could come to was that either the Elves of Rivendell all had serious eye defects, or simply ignored the reality because they liked the idea of identical twins so much.
Where Elrohir was lean and graceful, Elladan was bulky and clumsy; for each of Elrohir's witty remarks Elladan stuttered twice, and while the vegetation seemed to bow in front of Elrohir's natural grace, tree roots tended to grow exactly and with evil intent where Elladan walked, obviously with the sole purpose to make him stumble and fall.
Elrohir's hair cascaded down his back like brown silk, while Elladan had given up the fight to keep his unruly mane at bay long ago, saved himself the useless trouble of trying for fanciful braiding, and just went for two simple warrior braids instead. Even his ears were less pointed than Elrohir's, and while Elladan loved listening to his younger brother's melodious, warm voice, he had the music understanding of a tree frog, and if he'd tried to sing, the frog would have had the virtue.
Considering all this, it was only natural that Elrohir was courted by many with gifts and promises of eternal love, had his beauty praised and worshipped in songs and poems, while Elladan found that the few Elves who had shown interest in him were eyeing more the prospects of the heir of Imladris than his possible assets.
In other words: the much-praised likeness between Elrohir and Elladan was about as "amazing" as the one between Asfaloth and Bill The Pony.
Elladan remembered very well a thoughtless remark by one of his mother's handmaidens: "The Valar have been tight-fisted when it came to Elladan with their gifts so they could give plenty of grace to Elrohir".
Their father must have realized their difference the very second they had been born – how else could it be explained that "Elrohir" was the Elf Knight, while "Elladan" was a mix between Elf and Man – only half of one and not fully the other? Indeed – Elladan couldn't deny that the human heritage showed much stronger in him than in Elrohir. He was thanking the Valar daily that at least they had spared him the humiliation of chest hair and a receding hairline – that would have been too much to bear, even for him.
If Elladan had not been the friendly-natured Elf he was, such injustice could have caused serious tension among the siblings, but he loved Elrohir way too much to be envious, and if Elrohir noticed anything, he never mentioned it; even hero-worshipped his elder brother and would never have tolerated any degrading remarks about Elladan.
Elladan had stunned all of Imladris, and especially his father, when he first voiced his wish to become a healer. It had begun with animals he brought home from the woods when he was still an Elfling – birds with broken wings, stray dogs, hedgehogs that had missed to hide for the winter.
But Elladan was a warrior. He could shoot a bird's eye out in the dark, though he would have never done such a thing, for he loved animals and even refused to eat meat, feasting on fruits and vegetables instead, which earned him more than only one puzzled look from Rabbit. He was born to wield a sword, not picking healing herbs, and he was lacking everything a good healer needed. At least this was the official opinion of almost everybody in Imladris, for Elladan was rough with the patients, couldn't keep the many healing herbs apart and dropped the jars.
But there was one skill Elladan possessed which most healers lacked: a genuine love for all beings alive, and compassion for those who suffered. And while the guards loudly complained about the rough treatment of their wounds and secretly called him "Elladan the Butcher Boy", they still returned every time they were injured and let him do his duty, for they instinctively felt his compassion, that he suffered when they suffered, and tried to share and ease their pain.
Elladan had been awfully proud when Elrond assigned to him the task of looking after Master Erestor all through the pregnancy - under supervision, of course - and secretly, he was surprised that his stern former tutor had agreed to this arrangement and Glorfindel hadn't downright refused. The knowledge that the intimidating chief advisor trusted him in such a personal matter, despite doubtful looks down his long nose and more than one sarcastic remark from Glorfindel, filled Elladan with great joy, and he would have gone to Mordor and back if it would have been for the benefit of Erestor, Glorfindel and their unborn Elfling.
For now, however, it was not about Elflings and advisors, but one injured Galadhrim.
Orophin strolled in, as usual without saying a word, only bowing his head slightly in greeting. He was clutching his left arm to his chest, and there was a pained expression on his usually stern and emotionless face.
"What has happened this time, Master Orophin?" Elladan asked.
"Tree. Fell down," the Galadhrim grumbled.
Elladan frowned. Fallen from a tree? A Galadhrim?
He was beginning to suspect the stories about the legendary Guards of the Golden Wood were slightly exaggerated. Since Orophin's arrival in Rivendell, the archer had been to the Healing House almost every second day.
Once it was an injury he got during training, then he had cut himself with a knife while gutting a rabbit, his horse had knocked him out, there had been bruises when he had fallen off a wall and not to forget the incident where Elladan had to treat Orophin's thumb after the Galadhrim had squeezed the digit on a jar with pickled Frog Feet. Was it possible that he had finally found somebody who was even clumsier than himself?
Elladan only wished that Elrond could have a look at the archer once, maybe there was something wrong with his equilibrium, but unfortunately, Orophin always managed to injure himself on days when Elladan was on duty and Elrond nowhere in sight.
Today it was a nasty bruise on the elbow which brought Orophin to the Healing House, and while Orophin took off his tunic – which wasn't really necessary, he could have simply rolled up his sleeve – Elladan went to the shelf and took down the jar with the ointment basis, put some of it in the mortar with a spatula, and added kahikatea, which he had found most efficient to treat bruises. It also had a lovely, woodsy scent to it which was much more pleasant than the ointment Elrond tended to use and which stank like a dozen unwashed Orcs.
Elladan carefully mixed the ingredients, stored away the herbs and the jar and returned to his patient, where he started to apply the sticky ointment.
While he concentrated on his work, he more than once watched his patient when he thought Orophin wasn't looking – and who could have blamed him. Like all of the Galadhrim, Orophin wasn't exactly beaten with the ugly stick, though he definitely lacked Haldir's famous beauty or Rúmil's charms, but then, neither the one nor the other had ever caught Elladan's attention. He thought Rúmil to be moody and Haldir a wuss, and had often wondered how in the Valar's name a relationship between a couple as different as Rabbit and Haldir could work, but at the end of the day, he mused, it didn't really matter as long as it did work.
The thought of Haldir trying to convince Rabbit to get a manicure and a facial was most amusing, though.
Elladan almost giggled at this picture, quickly turned to fetch some bandages, and carefully wrapped them around Orophin's elbow.
"Do not take the bandage off, Orophin, also not for the night, and make sure it won't get soaked, as the ointment needs to work undisturbed. You should feel much better by tomorrow. Come back in the afternoon, and I shall have a look at it."
Orophin nodded, and slipped off the examination bed, stretching his body with the elegance and grace of a wildcat. There was definitely something feline in his features and the way he moved, and Elladan couldn't help but wonder how such an elegant creature managed to fall off trees, horses and walls on a regular basis.
Definitely a problem with the equilibrium – he would have to ask his ada about it.
* * *
Orophin woke up early in the next morning, and the first thing he did was sitting up and checking on his elbow. He unwrapped the bandages, and experimentally moved his arm. No pain, and hardly any bruising anymore.
In other words, his day was ruined.
The Galadhrim angrily shook his head and secretly cursed the self-healing abilities of his people, for by now, he was running out of excuses to visit the Healing House. He had deliberately hit his head on the door, forced his horse to kick him and even went as far as hitting his elbow with the frying pan - and all this to have an excuse to go and see Elladan.
Now how sad was that. Orophin shook his head and growled.
The house of Elrond was cursed.
Orophin tried to avoid memories of his courtship to Lady Arwen, which had ended with a broken nose for him, and a wedding with this cursed Estel for her – though, if he was honest, he was quite grateful for this turn of fate. Things would have never worked out between him and the spoilt daughter of Elrond; she needed to be the centre of attention and somebody she could boss around, like Estel, who was waiting on her hand and foot. Orophin had fallen for her beauty and charms, but never had his heart skipped a beat like it did when seeing Elladan stumble over his robes or catching his braids in an arrow.
But how to court him? After tending to the broken nose Rúmil had caught when Lord Glorfindel had explained in unmistakeable terms that Master Erestor was his advisor, and any attempts to change this fact would result in serious bodily harm, Lord Celeborn had made it very clear that courting any members of his son-in-law's household was about as taboo as making indecent proposals to Lady Galadriel.
So Orophin had dropped the idea of presenting Elladan officially with a Warg; a courting technique which, he had to admit, was lacking a bit of grace.
Sending flowers or pastry was out of question, and so Orophin, after being injured during a sparing session with Elrohir, had found himself sitting on the examination bed in the Healing House, with Elladan bowed over his hip, stitching him up, and the Galadhrim suddenly realized this Valar-sent solution for his problem.
Orophin didn't consider Elladan clumsy at all. He actually enjoyed the touch of the older twin's hands on his skin very much. But how to move from hip and elbow to more pleasurable parts?
He had never joined in the enthusiastic cheers over "Fair Elrohir"; maybe the younger twin did have a lovely glow to his skin, but Elladan – Elladan was glowing from within, and this held much more appeal to Orophin than a lovely voice or neatly braided hair. Not to mention the fact that Elrohir had lately spent most of his time crawling around in bushes, which was a very odd behaviour, even for somebody related to Elrond.
No – Elladan would be his. And if he had to break every single bone in his body and throw Lord Celeborn in the Bruinen on top of it to finally earn the right to nibble on those highly enchanting ears (not to talk of other enchanting bits) and comb out the knots in Elladan's hair, he would do it.
Orophin got dressed and went to look for Bramble – maybe he could convince his niece to bite his ankle.
After all, faint heart had never won fair Peredhel.
* * *
Does Orophin stand a chance with Elladan? Will the twin deliver Erestor's elfling without complications and dropping the baby? And what was Lady Firinwe up to in the meantime? Will Elrohir finally catch the intruder in the bushes?
All this and much more soon to come in episode 1297 of "The Young and the Orcless" - stay tuned ...
* * *
And one last author's note: "Elrohir" means either "Elf Rider" or "Elf Knight", so much is clear. An expert told me that the "-adan" in Elladan's name possibly comes from "adain", and is a hint on the human heritage of Elrond's first born. I know there are other interpretations, but I went with this one as it suited the story.