Serenity

Mellow Soulmate AU.  Two perspectives of the recovery after tragedy and the calm of a world formerly ravaged by war now at peace.  Very obviously related to "Shadows", "Rain" and "Destination", as well as "Starve", "Belong", "Smile", "Steady" and "Fingertips".  Also part of the entire Cheat arc and all its many derivatives.  First part takes place in Valinor in the Fourth Age and the second part takes place in Eryn Lasgalen in the Fourth Age.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Silmarillion or the Lord of the Rings, only Valthoron

Pairings: Haldir x Legolas, Valthoron (OMC) x Tauriel

Characters: Legolas, Haldir, Valthoron, Tauriel (mentions Thranduil, Sauron and other random people)

Warning: non-canon compliant AU, slash and het, OMC focus, mentions past non-con and war but no explicit violence, mostly fluffy romance and family stuff

Song: Thank You

Words: 1,568
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serenity (noun): the quality or state of being serene (marked by or suggestive of utter calm and unruffled repose or quietude; clear and free of storms or unpleasant change)
http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/serene?show=0&t=1384405635

There was a certain sort of peace and quiet here.  A stillness that he could never recall feeling upon the far eastern shores and in the depths of the shadowed forests.

Never before had Legolas realized just how wild and changing and violent the world he called home had always been.  Born into a time of relative peace in the aftermath of devastating war, all he knew was the progression of fear and aggression, the life of a young elf raised into a powerful and skilled warrior if only for the sake of self-preservation.  Each decade the forest had grown darker and more dangerous, each new century bringing forth new ravages and new enemies.

Until it had culminated into all-out war.  Until each day was a cycle of patrols to kill the spiders infesting their home and eradicate the orcs closing in upon their borders.  Until one could not safely venture out of their caverns without at the least six companions to guard their back.

Until, finally, the quest...

Everything had always been a flurry of movement.  One place to the next.  One moment to the next.  Because any second could be the last if one so much as hesitated to return a blow and raise their blade in defense.

In the world of the second rise of Sauron, there was no such thing as peace and calm.  There was only the encroaching shadow and the endless battle--of mind and body and heart--to keep it all at bay.

And then came the sickness.  The Longing.

Incessantly whispering and calling, a voice he could hear but could not ignore.  A song he could not block from his ears, because it was upon the air he breathed and in the memories he possessed and wheedling its way down into the depths of his soul, washing away all love of the green of the forest and replacing it with the call of the sea.  Turbulent and clashing, it had brought nothing but confusion and despair upon the young prince.

But here...

Here it was quiet.

The young elf sighed and leaned against his lover, taking in the scent of dense forest and mallorn sap.  Overhead, the light had finally vanished entirely from the horizon.  Left the entire sky spangled in the silvered droplets of stars, spread endlessly.

Here, there was no war.  Alone, he and Haldir made their home in the Woods of Oromë, lived each day off the land and slept in the grass under the heavy blanket of the indigo sky and the canopy of the rustling, singing wings of trees.  There was no need for them to have their knives within reaching distance, ready to spring from sleep to battle-readiness at the smallest snap of a twig or crumple of a leaf.  There was no need for them to constantly watch their backs, always glancing warily over their shoulders.

They could laugh and run as they wished freely without care.  Without worry.  And lie still together in the aftermath.  All stillness and serenity.  Watching the stars.

No distance.  No restrictions.  No loyalties to stand between them.  No worries to eat away at their minds and bodies.  No royal duties keeping them apart.

Paradise, Legolas liked to think of it.  Just the two of them, alone in all the world.

Though, he did occasionally stop to think of those left behind.  Of Aragorn and Arwen's line, undoubtedly still prospering upon the throne of Gondor.  Of Merry and Pippin, who had passed on now, gone beyond the edges of the world after long and fulfilling lives.  Of Faramir and Eowyn, who had been married the last time he had seen them, old and gray but quite pleased with their fates.  Of his father, who had been devastated by his leaving but who had understood more than Legolas could have ever imagined possible.

And, of course, Valthoron, who would only have been heartbroken and desolate at the loss of his younger brother, whom he had sworn to protect and defend always.  The sadness Legolas had seen in those eyes when they had last parted ways still sometimes made his heart stutter and sink.

And yet, Legolas smiled up at the sky and curled further into the embrace of his lover.  He knew that Valthoron was in good hands.  That he still had Thranduil, who would never cease to love him unconditionally no matter what anyone else said.  And Tauriel, who had devoted her life to the ostracized prince, throwing the opinions and perceptions of her peers back in their face.

For she loved Valthoron as Haldir loved Legolas.  And the younger brother did not doubt that she would keep his older sibling safe and at peace.  That they would have a long and fulfilling life in the years of growing green and recovery after the poisoned darkness receded.

Maybe, one day, they would meet again.

But for now, there was just the quiet togetherness.

---

To Valthoron's eyes, Anor had reached the midpoint of her arc through the heavenly blue of the sky.  Warmth radiated downward and settled into his skin where he lay in the summer grass.  Earth and plants and trees filled up his senses--the buzzing of insects and the breeze upon the leaves and the creak of dancing wood.

But so too did she fill him up and overtake all else.

Her scent with just a hint of sweetness underneath, the perfume of her hair fallen upon his cheek encircling.  The curve of her hip and belly against which his head was pressed as he lay half-curled into the cradle of her lap.  The tiny fluttering sensation of her fingers through his loose hair and over his cheeks.  Playfully skimming over his eyelashes and tracing the lines of his brows until all tension seeped from their furrows.

Never could he remember feeling like this.

The world had gone still and ceased to revolve about them.  Just lying there together in a clearing, wherein it had once been too dangerous now it was safe to nap without weapons and watch-shifts.  Neither of them had brought their knives or their bows, choosing instead to bring a couple of books left discarded a few feet away in the verdant sea.

No place Valthoron could remember had ever been like this.  The woods to the east of Ered Luin in the First Age, where he had spent the first few centuries of his life, had always been rife with shadow and lurking creatures of darkness.  Mirkwood had been even more so, for the spiders closed in with their dripping stingers and the wolves had circled with their lust-bared teeth and flashing eyes.  Orcs, goblins and other creatures of corruption had been all around in every direction, waiting to prey on the unwary, foolish and unguarded.

But no more.

How strange it was that, a mere few centuries after the end of the Second War of the Ring, the world seemed to have recovered already from six thousand years of escalating taint.  Valthoron had never lived in a place where it was safe to sleep alone outside in broad daylight.  Where one could allow their children to frolic freely through the trees unsupervised without worry.  Where the trees were not crooked and menacing, their branches but claws waiting to drag down the victim fleeing in vain.

Where one could pluck an apple from a tree and eat it without worry of being poisoned.  Or drink from an unknown river without worry of taint flowing in its current.

Where he could lay all day pressed up against the woman he loved and be content.

Turning, he glanced up at her from beneath the messy curtain of his overflowing curls.  Caught her affectionate eyes and held with his own as he gave her an adoring grin.  Like two young lovers without a care in the world.

Of course, all was not perfect.  There was the absence of Legolas, the gaping hole where he used to be still wide open and empty, left behind when his baby brother had sailed away into the West.

Sometimes he still wondered if Legolas had ever attained happiness.  If, somewhere, his baby brother had found a mate and started a family.  If, somewhere, that young and tormented soul had found the stillness and quiet that he now felt.

Wondered if, one day, they would ever meet again.

But at times like this it was best to forget.  To push aside those sketchy details and wonders and daydreams, to breathe in the tiny portrait painted before his eyes in the moment.  Of the married pair in the afternoon sunshine.  Basking in the serenity of a healing world embracing them from all sides.

Peaceful and content.  That was what he felt.  Two things he never believed could ever be within the reach of a child begotten through rape and hated for his bloodline.  A child with violence and vengeance and black lust branded into the very thread that wove together the fabric of his existence.

No, all was not perfect.  But it was as close to paradise as Valthoron could ever have hoped for.  Closer than he had ever dared imagine.

Close enough to risk a smile of true joy.