Epilogue
By Orchyd Constyne
Elrohir looked up from his parchment and surveyed the dimly lit library.
His father and Thranduil sat on piles of plush pillows set before the blazing
hearth. Elrond lay between Thranduil's thighs, sipping mulled wine
and talking softly with his lover. Thranduil stroked Elrond's hair,
a wistful smile gracing his lips. The were both dressed in simple leggings
and tunics, happy to simply bask in each other's glow.
Elrohir's eyes traveled further through the room to two figures sitting at
a chess table still dressed in their formal robes. Then again, thought
Elrohir, when had he ever seen Erestor *not* in those severe black robes?
Glorfindel was concentrating intently on the game board, his brow furrowed
slightly as he contemplated his next move. The Noldo rested his chin
on his hand, watching through half-closed eyes, his lover never the wiser
about the looks of adoration he cast at him.
Then the youngest Peredhel twin's eyes set upon the two large chairs between
the couples. Sprawled in those chairs were Elrohir's lovers, Elladan
and Legolas. His twin rested his legs over one arm and his shoulders
against the other. Legolas, looking stunning as ever in his tunic and
sleep pants, mimiced the position Elladan had assumed. They each were
reading books, or at least trying to give the impression that was what they
were doing. In reality, Legolas kept batting Elladan's bare feet with
his own. Elrohir's eyes softened as a smile came across Legolas' face,
lighting up the room.
He was content. Happy. His family, all those he truly cared about,
were accounted for in Imladris. Arwen was in her rooms, choosing to
avoid all the loving moments between her old tutors, her father, and her
brothers. But, even without her, Elrohir felt the most satisfied that
he had been in many years.
Elladan looked up and caught his twin watching them. "Done with your
writing, Caulen?"
A blush spread over his cheeks. "Nay, Elladan, I am not."
"Will you read it to us once you have finished it?" Legolas asked.
Thranduil looked over his shoulder at the Peredhel. "You are such an
accomplished author, Elrohir, do share with us your labors of this evening."
Elrohir laughed, feeling the blush deepen. "Will I not be left alone
if I say nay?"
Erestor shook his head. "We will pester you until you do, pen-neth."
"Then I will. When it is done."
"Checkmate, Glorfindel," Erestor announced. "Third game tonight.
Care to try a fourth?"
Glorfindel grumbled. "No, I don't think so. How about you fetch
us some wine and we can make ourselves comfortable with the others?"
"'Fetch us some wine'? Glorfindel, when did you become unable to get
your own refreshments?" Erestor stood, walking to the small pot of
warm liquid.
The Balrog-slayer sat himself on the floor across from Thranduil and Elrond,
smiling fondly at the couple. "Since I realized just how your robes
contoured your arse so nicely, and this gives me the perfect opportunity
to admire it."
The room burst out with sudden laughter and Erestor knew his face was blazing.
"Glorfindel..."
"Meleth?" He raised one eyebrow, patting the floor next to him.
Everyone calmed down and Erestor took his place on the thick green carpet.
Thranduil caught his eye and winked at him, smiling broadly.
The room quieted and each was lost to their own thoughts while Elrohir completed
his work. After a small while, he put his quill down and walked to
the gathered Elves. Legolas dropped his book and patted his lap, which
Elrohir happily sat in.
"It is complete."
Everyone came to attention, eyes all on him, and Legolas wrapped his arms
around the young twin's waist. Elrohir cleared his throat and began.
"Memories, they say, are demons that haunt
Demons that jeer and demons that taunt
I say the past is the beginning
What you thought was history
Is never far from your heart
Memories show us the things that we want
"Actions, they say, are vipers that bite
Vipers that spit and sting out of spite
I say the present is the path
It is the song and the meaning
It is facade and it is truth
Actions help us seek our heart's delight
"Dreams, they say, are wisps of cloud
With no thought to aid, only to shroud
I say the future is the promise
Even the most innocent kiss
Holds a hope of time beyond time
Dreams send us forth with purpose endowed
"That love is red, this too they know
A fiery pit of despair and woe
I say love is a force unmatched
I've seen it give, I've seen it heal
I know the color of love is white
For love comes ever with the falling of snow."
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