Title: The Greenleaf and The Golden Flower
Author: Belle
Pairing: Legolas/Glorfindel
Rating: NC 17 at the end
Warnings: None
Wish: Fluff, sex in the woods (I tried, really I did, but I fear
angst crept in there)
Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to the author, only the
Professor, and his estate. Not written with any intent for financial
gain, only hopefully the pleasure of the reader
Summary: Sometimes one cannot resist fate, no matter how hard one
tries.
Written for Neldluva

~Imladris, Near the end of the Third Age~

He had come to Imladris to carry word of the creature Gollum's
escape. His father had entrusted him with this because of its impact
upon the world. Gollum had been brought to Mirkwood with implicit
instructions to keep him safe and hidden from prying eyes. Lord
Elrond's foster son, Estel, had been the one to impart this
information to Thranduil, the king of Mirkwood, though he could not,
or possibly would not, tell him any more than Mithrandir had urged
them to care for the ragged and wretched creature as if a treasure.

Now they had lost him and Legolas could not help but feel somewhat
culpable. After all, his patrol had taken over the task of watching
him. Only a few moments of inattention and somehow Gollum had
escaped. Legolas sighed and turned away from the beautiful view
before him. Lord Elrond had given him and his party wonderful
quarters and if the weight of his news had not born him down so much,
the prince of Mirkwood would have greatly enjoyed this visit.

Something hung upon the air and he knew not yet what it portended.
Yet he also sensed he would become a part of the greater scheme of
things. With a heavy heart, he moved into his bedchamber and shed his
dusty travel clothes. In deference to their weariness, Lord Elrond
had his chief advisor see that each traveler have the option of
bathing in a large tub within their rooms rather than attending the
public baths. Normally a friendly and gregarious Elf, Legolas
welcomed this, for he did not relish the curious looks the Imladris
Elves would give him.

Without his usual pleasure, he sank into the tub of steaming water,
and then quickly washed hair and body. Two buckets of hot water
awaited his rinse and he carefully utilized them, trying not to
splash any on the floor of the private bath chamber. He slicked back
his hair, and then emerged to wrap a towel about his waist.

As he sat at the dressing table, unsnarling his hair, he thought of
his interview with Lord Elrond the next morning with some dread. He
would have preferred to return to Imladris without the onus of such
ill news. Indeed, he had hoped to see once again Elrond's seneschal,
Glorfindel. Their first meeting had been most pleasant as the
returned Elf had kindly answered Legolas' many questions. His cheeks
heated at the memory. How young he had been! How he had importuned
Glorfindel with requests for details of Gondolin and his past life.
The golden warrior had not been in evidence when the Mirkwood party
arrived and Legolas could only assume he lead a patrol to protect
Imladris' borders.

A quiet knock roused him from his thoughts. He rose and donned a
bathrobe, then went to answer the door. It seemed almost as if his
thoughts had called out to Glorfindel.

"I heard you had arrived," the seneschal remarked. "What brings you
to Imladris, my prince?"

Legolas could not help the broad smile that split his face upon
seeing the one he thought so highly of, but the question quickly
quenched it. He shook his head and gestured for the other to enter.
He moved to the small table on the balcony and poured two small
glasses of *miruvor;* one for himself as he felt certain he would
need its sustaining properties.

"My father sent me with less than good tidings," he admitted as he
handed Glorfindel the second glance and slanted a look at
Glorfindel. "I am to see Lord Elrond on the morrow to give them to
him directly. Until then."

Glorfindel put his hands up. "Say no more of that then, for I would
not press you to speak of that which must remain a secret. Know this
though, I have recently returned from a patrol and have seen the
Úlairi pursuing an object they want beyond reason. I sent on the one
who bore it for Elrond's healing, for he sustained a wound from none
other than the Witch King himself."

Legolas put down his glass, a cold foreboding washing over him. "Then
the news I bear will bring naught but more distress to your lord. The
creature Gollum escaped our care a fortnight ago. I. I have heard
rumors that he held that treasure for five centuries before he lost
it. What could this mean?" He swallowed heavily and turned to lean
against the balustrade, his eyes unseeing of what lay before him.
Instead, he remembered Estel's cryptic words and now knew they had
done a disservice to all of Arda because they could not see the
importance of the wretched creature.

A warm hand on his shoulder made him jump. "Legolas, you could not
have known. Perhaps you have a larger part to play in this than you
know. Daily I ride out to make certain no sign of those undead kings
may foul Imladris. But tomorrow, I believe Elrond will call together
a council. Men and Dwarves alike have come, all bearing tales of
troubles across Arda. Perhaps `tis no chance, but Iluvatar's design,
that has called them here at this time. Perhaps Gollum's escape plays
a part as well."

Legolas hung his head, not hearing the gentle comfort Glorfindel
offered. Before he could make a reply, he found himself turned and
embraced.

"Do not put more guilt upon yourself, young one. That way only leads
to more misery. `Tis the time for action, but not right now. Now you
must rest and ready yourself for whatever may come," Glorfindel
soothed.

Without thinking, Legolas returned the embrace, needing the
contact. "I worry, Glorfindel. What will Lord Elrond have to say to
this. this failure?"

A strong, sword-calloused hand tipped his chin up that Legolas' gaze
would meet the deep azure one of Glorfindel. "You know him not if you
think he will chastise you. That cursed thing has caused nothing but
trouble since its birth. He will know what we must do now."

Legolas managed to concentrate on Glorfindel's lips. "But."

"No, for tonight, rest. Tomorrow will come. I must clean up, for I
fear I smell of horse and the road. However, if you would like, I
would share supper with you in a special glade near here."

The words and the heat of Glorfindel's body brought Legolas'
attention to their intimate pose. He did not wish to offend the
ancient Elf, but he feared his response to the proximity of one who
he had dreamed of often would prove embarrassing. He leaned away, but
the battled-strengthened arms only gave a bit.

"Have I caused you discomfort?" Glorfindel asked.

Legolas shook his head. "Nay, but. I have limited experience with
anything but warfare upon Orcs, spiders, and other foul things. My
father has trained me in diplomacy, but. Love and laughter have been
things my family has had little of since my mother died."

The arms tightened again and Legolas felt very small. Glorfindel
stood taller than many Elves, but the beauty of his face and form
brought wondering glances wherever he went. That such a one would
even consider a younger son of a Sindar King baffled and delighted
him at the same time.

"Tonight, Legolas. I will be glad to give you ease and show you the
world still has room for those things. Not all lies in darkness and
love will bring light no matter where it shines."

With that, Glorfindel released him. "I will come for you after
sunset. Ithil shines his light upon us this night and the glade lies
not far from here. Will you join me? I need this as much as you do."

Mutely, Legolas nodded. How could he refuse such an offer as heart-
sore as he felt? With a strange wonder, he watched as Glorfindel
leaned close and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. With a tiny
smile, the Balrog slayer turned and left the room. On boneless legs,
the Mirkwood prince managed to find a seat at the table.

He needed sleep. They had ridden themselves and their horses nearly
into the ground to get to Imladris in such a short span, but the need
for haste had been unmistakable. He closed his eyes for a moment,
then rose and returned to his bedchamber. Perhaps a short nap would
revive him and if he awoke and found it a dream. Well, at least it
had been pleasant one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Anor descended behind the cliffs, painting the deep cleft with dark
strokes and the sky with brilliant red and orange clouds. Glorfindel
stretched and rose from his bed. The short respite had refreshed him
and he looked forward to the evening meal with Legolas. Humming a
cheery song so old he had no true memory of when had learned it, he
dressed and made his way to the kitchens.

Before he had retreated to his room, he had reported to Elrond, not
mentioning his planned rendezvous with Legolas or his visit with the
Woodland prince. His lord had smiled at him in such a way that
Glorfindel wondered how much of his excitement he radiated. However,
Elrond asked no awkward questions and Glorfindel escaped to arrange
food for the feast.

For 'twas a feast he fully wished to provide for Legolas. Something
about the young prince called to him as only one other had in either
of his lives. He had loved more than once, but only that other had
the pull of *this* Greenleaf. The cook had cheerfully accepted his
commission and when he returned this evening, a basket filled with
delectable fare awaited him. Fresh bread and butter, sliced cold
meats, cheese, fruit, flaky pastries, and a bottle of fine wine
rested among a tablecloth and napkins.

"Do you wish anything else, Lord Glorfindel?" the cook asked, her
eyes gleaming with merriment.

"Nay, mistress, `tis more than I could have hoped for. As usual, you
have provided a veritable feast fit for a king," he responded,
knowing full well she had a soft spot for him. A sweet Elf, she
always made a special effort to fix his favorite foods when he sat at
Elrond's table.

"Then take it and enjoy it, for I know whomever you share it with
will most likely pay more attention to his companion than whatever
you carry in that basket," she told him with a chuckle and he felt
his cheeks heat. Instead of giving in to his rare discomfiture, he
shrugged with a sheepish smile, bent to kiss her cheek, then picked
up the basket and hurried off to Legolas' quarters.

How many had he courted in his lives? More than one, he knew. Yet,
here he stood with the queerest feeling in his stomach as if he wooed
his first. His hand rose, but before he could knock, the door flew
open.

"You came!" Legolas exclaimed.

"Of course. Did you think I would not?" Glorfindel returned, puzzled
that the prince thought he would renege.

"Oh. No, of course not, but. I thought I might have dreamed the
offer," the younger Elf stammered, flushing beautifully.

Glorfindel shook his head and smiled. "Nay, `twas real as you and I
here and now. Have you readied yourself?" He appraised the prince's
outfit and approved of the soft leggings, tunic, and boots. "'Twill
be a bit brisk tonight, so perhaps a cloak?"

Legolas hurried to retrieve one from his pack, then joined
Glorfindel. The ancient Elf took one of Legolas' hands and tucked it
into the crook of his free arm. "Good, then let us be off before `tis
completely dark. Ithil will rise in a few hours, but before
then `twill be quite black."

With a laugh, the prince retorted, "Think you a Wood Elf could not
pick his way among the trees?"

"Ah, but these trees own allegiance to Elrond. Would they speak to
you?"

"Oh, but they do, Glorfindel, they do," Legolas rejoined with a smirk.

Glorfindel did not reply with words, merely joined in the laughter,
glad he could lighten Legolas' heart. Among the deepening shadows,
they made their way toward a secluded glade tucked beneath the cliffs
that protected Imladris. A tiny waterfall poured into a small
crystalline pool at one side of the glade. Ferns surrounded it as
well, and at the base of the several of the trees, flowers still
bloomed and mushrooms sprang up in colorful variety. Birds began to
roost, giving the occasional sleepy chirp to each other.

Several small animals, rabbits, squirrels, and the like moved away
from them, not frightened, but heading toward their homes as night
descended. Glorfindel released Legolas as they settled for an open
patch of grass beneath one of the big oaks. He put down the basket,
then knelt and opened it. A grin spread over his face as he
discovered not only the food and wine, but two candles, candlesticks,
and a small flint and stone to light them. Surely, the cook thought
of everything. He pulled the tablecloth from the basket, then rose
and held out one end to Legolas.

"Shall we lay it here?" he asked the clearly entranced prince.

"What? Oh, yes," he replied as if awakening from reverie.

Together they spread out the cloth, and then set out the viands. As
Legolas opened the wine, Glorfindel struck the flint and lit the
candle, filling a small space within the glade with a golden glow.

An awkward silence descended, but Glorfindel felt determined to
dispel it. He reached for the bread and broke off a chunk, then
smeared the fresh butter on one end and offered it to Legolas.
Wordlessly, his companion took and began to eat. They continued
thusly until most of the food disappeared. Glorfindel removed his
cloak and spread it so that it would cushion the tree's trunk. Then,
he leaned back and gave a contented sound.

"Tell me of Mirkwood, Legolas. Too many years have past since I last
visited there," he invited, patting the spot beside him.

When Legolas joined him, Glorfindel wrapped the cloak over them and
held the slighter Elf close. A floodgate seemed to break as the
prince spoke animatedly of his home, both the beauty and the darkness
that threatened it. His voice stilled when he came to Estel's last
visit.

"You feel you have failed his trust, but you have not. You have
failed no one. If I have learned nothing else from living, dying, and
being reborn, I have learned that Iluvatar's plan does not always
allow us to do as we believe we should. Perhaps if someone had truly
befriended Maeglin he would not have betrayed us. Perhaps if I had
remained at Ecthelion's side, he would not have fallen with the
Balrog." He sighed and laid his chin atop Legolas' head. "No one of
us can know the tapestry Vääire weaves."

To his surprise, Legolas looked up, tears in his eyes. "Forgive me
for probing old wounds, Glorfindel."

"You need not beg my forgiveness, Legolas," he breathed. So close. He
could not resist. Angling his head, he sought those sweet lips that
he yearned to taste.

Legolas stiffened in his arms and as Glorfindel readied to break the
kiss, he found himself wrapped in the archer's strong embrace, the
soft mouth opening in invitation. A quiet sound of need escaped him.
Too many years had passed since he had sought out physical comfort
from another. He had dedicated himself to eradicating the evil that
had claimed Elrond's wife's sanity and left him alone. Vowed he would
protect the home he had come to appreciate even more than the one he
had died defending. Now, he found himself awash in sensual need.

"Legolas." he whispered when at last he could breathe.

"Be with me, *meleth.* Ever since we first met, I have longed for
you," the prince quietly told him.

The words echoed in Glorfindel's ears, resounding through his mind as
the same said to him millennia ago. Did not another Legolas say the
very same thing to him? Did he not look up at him with eyes filled
with love and trust?

"Who are you?" he croaked, then shook his head. "You are Legolas
Thranduilion, prince of Mirkwood," he replied to himself before the
younger Elf could.

"Why do you ask such a question, Glorfindel?"

"Because another who bore your name said those exact words to me the
night Gondolin fell," he whispered, anguish written on his face and
in his voice.

Legolas rested his head on Glorfindel's shoulder. "Will the ghost of
that memory keep us apart? You have said and I believe we will not
know where fate will take us. Shall we part and never have this?"

Glorfindel's lips twisted in a wry smile. He had come here to ease
Legolas' spirit and instead found the young one attempting to do the
same for him. Nay, this night should be for the young Legolas, not
the ancient Elf that sat here.

"If you wish to partake of this with me, I would be honored. Despite
your youth, you have seen much that many your age never have. I will
not lie to you, Legolas. I desire you and have since I laid eyes upon
you. But the memories of that other Greenleaf still haunt me at
times. Will you mind sharing me with them?"

"Never!" the Mirkwood prince exclaimed. "I will gladly receive
whatever you give me, Glorfindel. As warriors, we both know the
uncertainty of life. Whether we face another day or tread the Halls
of Mandos only Eru knows. But know this. The Greenleaf desires to
know the Golden Flower in every way. If. If we survive what comes in
the following days, then I would seek you out whenever our paths
cross."

Glorfindel's heart soared at those words. "Then if Illuvatar sees
fit, we shall come together more than this time," he vowed. He
shifted so that Legolas rested against him, hip to hip, chest to
chest.

Time seemed to cease, though the candles guttered, and Ithil rose
high above them. Clothes lay littered the area where the impromptu
feast had taken place and two pale forms lay entwined, their innate
glow bringing light to the tiny glade.

Sighs and moans sounded in that place as lips explored new territory,
lavished kisses on sensitive areas, and hands explored curves and
valleys. Soft words of love flowed through the glade, some in
Sindarin, some in Quenya, for Glorfindel, in his passion, returned to
his mother tongue.

Ithil rose high above them, replacing the candles' golden glow with
her silvery light. Legolas rose and fell upon Glorfindel, his hands
resting on his lover's muscular chest. The Imladris seneschal gazed
in wonder at the beauty above him.

"Valar knows what tomorrow will bring, love, but I will carry this
memory with me all my days," he murmured, and then pulled Legolas
down for another heated kiss.

His hands roamed satin skin until one rested upon a slender hip, the
other wrapping around engorged flesh. Legolas moaned into
Glorfindel's mouth at the touch and his pace increased. Both began to
tremble with impending release.

"Come with me, dear prince," the ancient Elf murmured against that
sweet mouth as he continued to stroke the rigid length between them.
With another kiss, Legolas rose again, only to watch Glorfindel's
hand ply his needy flesh. A shuddering breath escaped him as he
closed his eyes. With a growl, Glorfindel pulled the younger Elf down
again, then rolled them both over.

"I wanted you the moment I laid eyes upon you, all those years ago,"
he whispered.

Passion filled blue eyes gazed up at him in wonder. "So long ago,"
Legolas gasped.

"Yes," Glorfindel managed, and then began in earnest to bring his
Silvan prince pleasure. He flexed his hips at such an angle as to
brush that bundle of nerves with his shaft. Tiny cries from his lover
assured him he hit his mark.

It only took a few strokes for Legolas to reach the point of no
return. He stiffened and cried out, clutching at Glorfindel. As the
lithe body tightened around Glorfindel's flesh, he could no longer
hold back. With a shout, he poured himself into his lover, and then
lay back on the cloak, holding a trembling Legolas close as they
sought to regain their breath.

Glorfindel raised a somewhat unsteady hand to stroke the pale golden
hair that fell over his chest. "I will never forget you, Greenleaf. I
know not what path our lives will take, but when the time comes for
us to leave Arda, I pray you will seek me out."

The prince tilted his head back and searched Glorfindel's face.
Something there must have given him peace, for he smiled a bit. "Aye,
I will do my best. For none have ever made me feel as you have."

Gently, Glorfindel rolled his lover to his side, then tucked him
close and covered their bodies with the cloak. His gaze sought the
now star laden sky. "Then may Elbereth watch over you, for I sense
you have a long and dangerous journey ahead."

"I do not fear it if it brings light to the world as the Golden
Flower has brought it into my life," Legolas murmured, then pressed
his lips to Glorfindel's damp neck.

"We shall see, young one. We shall see," Glorfindel replied softly,
praying his visions of the future would come true, at least in part.

The End