Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Elladan/Elrohir/Legolas & Glorfindel/Thranduil/Erestor (Elrond/Gil-galad mentioned)
Summary: Sequel to P3: Shadows of Mirkwood -- The Princes wander in the wild, and Thranduil visits Imladris.
Beta: Allie (hugs)- Any remaining mistakes are all mine.
Warning: Explicit TWINCEST- if this squicks you, please don't read it ;)
Feedback: Makes me smile, and write faster.
Notes: Italics indicate mindspeak or thoughts, when not used for simple emphasis.
Grey Mountains 2151 III
His far-seeing eyes searching the tumbled rocks frantically, Elrohir sighed with relief when he caught sight of his lover, wandering among the fallen to retrieve spent arrows. Hurrying toward the tattered form, he frowned uneasily at the scene before him.
Legolas stared emotionlessly into the face of a dying human. Planting his foot firmly on the man's chest, he grabbed the shaft of the arrow that protruded from the swollen belly.
"No, 'Las," Elrohir said quietly, quickly placing a restraining hand on the prince's shoulder. "He lives yet."
The woodland prince spared only a passing glance for his companion before he drew one knife and slit the brigand's throat from ear to ear. "He lives no longer," Legolas announced impassively. "May I retrieve my arrow now, híren?"
Without waiting for an answer, the archer took a firm grip on the embedded arrow and tugged savagely, freeing the shaft with a sickening pop that sent a spray of blood over both elves. Looking the implement over dully, he raised his eyes to meet the elf-knight's concerned gaze. "'Tis broken," he said unsteadily, sinking to his knees. "The tip is gone"
Disregarding the blood-soaked ground, Elrohir dropped beside the prince, gathering him in a snug embrace. "'Tis alright, anor nín," he murmured softly. "Come, let 'Dan look you over."
"I am fine," Legolas choked out harshly. "But Tiri..."
"Tiri is well, 'Las," the younger twin reassured the shaken elf. "'Dan has stitched and bound his wound. 'Tis naught to worry over."
"Praise the Valar," the prince breathed, burying his face in his lover's neck. "I thought...when I saw the blood, I thought..." Shuddering, he asked hopelessly, "And Berioron?"
Shaking his head slightly, Elrohir tightened his hold on the trembling form. "I am sorry, melethen," he said, stroking the bloodied golden braid. "So sorry."
"'Tis my fault," Legolas began tonelessly, his body gone rigid. "'Twas my idea, this sortie. We should never have come to Ered Mithrin. I should not have turned my back when Tiri fell..."
The elf-knight drew a deep breath, and pulled away slightly. Sympathy was not the answer to battle-shock. "Enough, Thranduilion," he said sternly, causing the prince's gaze to meet his in surprise. "Your warriors fought well, and Berioron died doing his duty. Mourn him, aye, but you do his memory no honor by indulging in self-pity."
With relief, Elrohir saw tears well in the clouded blue-green eyes. "'Tis not your fault, 'Las," he went on more kindly. "'Tis the price of battle." Rising to his feet, the dark elf extended a hand. "Come on, ernilen," he said firmly. "We need help piling the ruffians to burn. And your captain needs you."
"He will be fine," Elladan reassured the woodland prince. "'Twas not deep, but a scalp wound bleeds freely."
"Bleeds freely?" Legolas retorted ruefully. "There was so much blood I feared him near beheaded."
"Only be-braided," Tiriadon chuckled, rising to his elbows on the blankets. "Your peredhel lopped one off in his hurry to clean the wound."
"I did," Elladan retorted without rancor. "I could not stitch your scalp closed, captain, without easing the weight."
Does he know of Berioron, 'Dan?
Aye, he does, melethen.
"You are not to blame, híren," the Mirkwood captain said quietly, as if aware of the silent exchange. "There is no profit in chastising yourself. Berioron fought honorably, and died quickly. A warrior's death, as he would have chosen. He will not be forgotten."
"He died defending me," Legolas said with a sobbing sigh, finally giving in to his tears as he sat down beside his friend.
"And me," Tiriadon added earnestly, his pale face tear-streaked, yet calm. "Just as you or I would have died defending him. Let it go, Legolas. Let him go in peace."
"Stay here with Tiri, 'Las," Elladan broke in gently, bending to squeeze the prince's shoulder. "I will see to the cairn."
"Hannon chen," Legolas said gratefully. "'Tis more than I could bear just now, el nín."
Elrohir stuck his head into the healing tent, easing the somber mood that had fallen over the three elves. "The scouts have found a spring just up the trail that they think could be secured for bathing, 'Dan."
Smiling at the hopeful expression that spread across his twin's face, the elf-knight added, "I am going to take a look. Water creature."
"Wait until you see it, 'Las," Elrohir said with a grin as they headed up the rock-strewn path. "'Tis as though the Valar themselves designed this place just for bathing. Flowing water, and unapproachable from the back rise. 'Tis safe as the pools in the valley, as long as the trail is guarded."
"I would be glad to see any water just now, rohir nín," Legolas retorted with a grimace, looking down at his blood-drenched clothing. "I shall have to soak my leggings off, I fear. They are plastered to my skin."
"Aye, 'twill take a good soaking lest we part with skin as well as leather," Elladan agreed, tugging experimentally at one leg. "And I fear that tunic is beyond redemption, 'Las. Best burn it when..."
"Elbereth! Would you look at that?" Legolas broke in, his voice tinged with amazement. "'Tis Middle-earth's largest rinsing trough!"
Elladan stood frozen, as though beholding the shores of Valinor.
A wide, thin sheet of water poured briskly over a high ledge of rock, spreading smoothly into an ankle-deep pool before spilling again to form a fast-flowing yet shallow stream that meandered off among the trees and boulders.
The woodland prince drew a deep breath as he hurried toward the falling water, his exhaustion and sorrow soothed by the gentle din of the falls, and the familiar fragrance of evergreens. "Come on, 'Dan...'Roh," he urged, ripping off his tunic and kicking off his boots before stepping into the shallow basin.
Elladan eased off his soiled upper garments, pulling the matted fabrics gingerly over his unbound hair. Toeing off his boots at the edge of the lower pool, the dark elf was stopped by a light touch on his bare arm. Turning in surprise, he faced one of the elder Mirkwood warriors who was returning from the upper pool. Three more of the Mirkwood contingent stood a short distance away, obviously waiting for their comrade.
"Your pardon, híren," the elf said quietly. "Might I have a word?"
"Of course," the elder twin answered immediately, fearing an unknown injury had surfaced. "Are you harmed?"
"Nay, I am unscathed," the warrior returned quickly. "I wanted only to say that we are the last. All are finished bathing save the captain, and we will carry water to him from the stream."
Looking intently at the somewhat confused peredhel, the Mirkwood elf smiled slightly. "We are the last, ernilen," he repeated. "And I will see that the path is well-guarded while you bathe. None shall disturb you."
The corners of Elladan's mouth curled upward as he realized exactly what the other was offering. "Hannon chen, mellonen," he replied. "'Tis most appreciated."
"Any shelter, eh, ernil neth?" the seasoned warrior chuckled as he turned down the trail. "Any shelter is precious out here. Take your time, híren."
Legolas sighed in appreciation as he waded into the nearly waist deep upper pool. "'Tis beautiful, is it not?" he asked, and his companions could only nod in agreement.
A thin band of trees grew lushly at the edge of the soft grasses surrounding the pool, shading the clear, bubbling water from the worst of the sun, and providing a welcome sense of privacy. The back wall of the spring rose sharply, a lichen-covered cliff that plunged steeply beyond sight on the other side. The muted gurgling of water entering the pool could just be heard over the splash of the falls into the lower basin.
Joining the woodland prince in the water, the twins stood quietly for a long moment as the gently swirling water carried away the last traces of blood from their leggings. Elrohir flexed his legs cautiously, relieved to find that the leather was once again moving over his skin freely. "I believe I am unstuck," he said gratefully.
"Aye, the soaking has done it," Legolas agreed, sinking to his chin in the pleasantly cool water. "I may not have to live in these things for all eternity, after all." Standing, the prince reached to loose his leggings, only to have his movement stayed by a touch from behind.
"Let me help you with that, anor nín," the elf-knight offered silkily, moving closer to wrap his arms around the other's waist. "Let us take care of you, hmm?"
"Do not tempt me so, melethen," Legolas protested, gripping Elrohir's wrists, even as he leaned back into the embrace. It had been far too long. Nearly six moons had passed since the raiders set out from Mirkwood. Early spring had turned to summer with little chance for more than fleeting kisses and frantic couplings just beyond the fire's glow.
"'Twould not be wise, I fear, 'Roh," the prince sighed. "The others must bathe as well. We are likely to find ourselves with company at any moment."
"There will be no interruption, 'Las," Elladan said smugly, a smirking grin on his face. "We are the last, and the path is well watched."
One golden eyebrow arched questioningly, "'Dan? Surely you did not..."
"I did nothing except express our deepest gratitude," the elder twin chuckled, stepping closer to nuzzle his lover's neck. "It would seem that we have the blessing of Taur-na-Fuin's troops."
"Indeed?" Legolas asked breathlessly, tipping his head back against Elrohir's shoulder. "Then why are we still dressed?"
Name: Berioron - protector
Elvish translations:
híren - my lord
anor nín - my sun
melethen - my love
Ered Mithrin - Grey Mountains
ernilen - my prince
hannon chen - thank you
el nín - my star
rohir nín - my knight
mellonen - my friend
ernil neth - young prince
"Well?" Legolas demanded, his eyes twinkling. "Why are we still dressed?"
Elladan chuckled against the prince's neck, nipping the pale skin gently before pulling away with a grin. "Impatient, are we anor nín?" he teased. "What has happened to that much vaunted wood-elf restraint, hmm?"
"Indeed," the elf-knight purred, trailing his fingers fleetingly across Legolas' stomach before hooking his thumbs under sodden black leather to tug at the loosened leggings. "Anticipation sweetens everything, does it not, 'Dan?"
"But I think you quite sweet enough, melethen," the prince retorted, pressing back mercilessly into Elrohir's groin, a smile of pure triumph spreading across his face as an involuntary moan escaped the younger twin.
Wrapping Elladan in an insistent embrace, Legolas pulled the dark elf close, wedging his own body firmly between the two strong forms. "And my well known restraint, el nín," he breathed, nibbling sharply at his lover's lower lip, "was spent several moons ago."
The elf-knight lowered his head to lick wetly at the Legolas' ear, his teeth worrying the sensitive edge teasingly. His eyes fluttering, the prince relinquished his hold on the elder twin's lip to turn his head encouragingly.
Elladan gently extricated himself from the snug embrace and began tugging in earnest at the prince's leggings, submerging himself completely to work the clinging leather free. Resurfacing with a victorious grin, the elder twin stripped off his own garment before moving toward his brother purposefully.
Elrohir sensed the movement behind and leaned comfortably against his twin's chest, shuddering as nimble fingers made quick work of his leggings, reaching inside to stroke his hardening shaft firmly.
Take them off, tôren. I would see you.
With a final nip at one impressively flushed ear, the elf-knight released Legolas and wriggled out of the offending leggings, which Elladan took immediately. One ebony eyebrow arched in question, Elrohir watched curiously as his brother tossed the dripping garments over a low-hanging branch, then hauled himself from the water to rummage in the pack that held their clean clothing.
Legolas stared avidly, a fiery ache lodging in his groin. Muscles flexed fluidly under marble pale skin as the elder twin raised himself from the pool, the streaming length of his ebony hair clinging to his back, the ends dancing tauntingly at the swell of his buttocks. Groaning in frustration, the prince leaned back against Elrohir, watching in disbelief as Elladan stretched languidly, turning as if to flaunt every part of his body before slithering back into the water.
"You are cruel, el nín." Legolas growled, reaching for his lover, only to find himself held firmly against the elf-knight's hard chest, a tantalizing tongue moving over his ear.
The dark elf successfully evaded the questing hands, a smug grin on his face as he opened the tin he had carried into the pool, dipping his fingers into the honey-thick oil soap before setting it carefully at the spring's edge.
Rubbing his hands together, Elladan began to smooth the fragrant mixture across the prince's chest, pausing to toy with both golden nipple rings before sliding his slippery hands under and over ivory arms, then down a violently twitching stomach.
As the kneading hands reached his groin, Legolas drew a shaky breath, exhaling it in a hissing moan as his straining length was grasped in a slick, soapy hand. "'Dan..." he began warningly, his hoarse protest ending in a muffled shout as another hand moved to rub his sac gently.
"'Las?" the elder twin returned teasingly, scooping up more soap before his slippery fingers plunged underwater, scooting enticingly over the prince's bottom, then moving down the trembling legs.
Elladan dragged himself back up his lover's body, then stood silent a moment, his midnight dark gaze fixed on Legolas' face. Catching the ivory chin in one hand, the dark elf claimed the prince's mouth in a lingering kiss, his tongue making seductive promises as it thrust repeatedly into the inviting warmth. "Turn around, ernilen," he whispered, stepping back slightly, his hands already urging his lover to move.
Aroused as he was, Legolas still found himself rather annoyed by the seemingly preemptory command. Lifting one golden eyebrow, he resisted the gentle pressure on his shoulders. "Turn around?" he asked fretfully. "Just like that? Turn around?"
Grinning broadly at the chagrin on the prince's face, Elladan dropped a light kiss on the tip of his lover's nose. "Aye, turn around," he chuckled. "I need to wash your back, anor nín, and your hair. What else?"
Legolas flushed softly, casting a dark look at the elder twin, but did as requested, the turn bringing him face to face with Elrohir. Shaking his head ruefully at the grin that twitched on the elf-knight's lips, the prince had to smile, also. "You are both hopeless," he sighed, raising a hand to push back a strand of raven dark hair. "Hopeless, and dirty. Mayhap I should wash you, rohir nín, while I am being scrubbed, hmm?"
Without waiting for an answer, Legolas dipped his fingers into the soap tin, spreading the pale green mixture over his hands. "I shall smell like Imladris, as well," he grinned, breathing the scent in deeply as he began slathering Elrohir's body, his fingers firmly mapping the hard muscles.
The elf-knight hissed as the wandering hands slid around his back, soaping and kneading, forcing his body forward, and his aching erection to rub tantalizingly against the prince's groin. A moment later, a hoarse oath was forced from him as slippery fingers stroked up and down his crease, then breached his body without warning.
"Language, 'Roh...language," Legolas chided teasingly, his emerald-dark eyes sparkling. "Raise your legs, melethen. I cannot stoop to wash them with 'Dan's hands in my hair."
"Nearly done, 'Las," Elladan offered absently, his attention focused on untangling the soapy golden mane before him.
"Aye, then 'twill be your turn, el nín," the prince chuckled, firmly rubbing his soapy hands over the elf-knight's legs as they were lifted obediently. "Wet your hair, 'Roh."
"In charge now, are you, wood-elf?" Elrohir asked with mock affront, before sinking beneath the water to emerge a moment later with his back turned.
"It would seem so," Legolas retorted cheekily as he ran his fingers slowly over his lover's scalp, drawing a moan of appreciation, before gently pulling the soap through the silken ebony strands.
"Hold a minute, 'Las, and rinse your hair," the elder twin broke in, stepping back to allow the prince to submerge, the now-clean golden tresses gleaming like sunlight in the clear water.
"Come over here, tôren, and I will help you scrub," Elrohir offered with a grin as his hair was once again seized. "I seem to be unable to move."
Elladan moved to stand in front of his brother, drawing a deep breath as strong hands moved over his shoulders, spreading the silky liquid higher and higher, until slick fingers were sweeping repeatedly over the tips of his ears. Forcing his eyes open against the pleasurable tingle, the elder twin met a midnight-dark gaze.
You are wicked, rohir nín.
Mayhap. But I have scarce begun.
Reluctantly releasing his twin's ears, Elrohir asked, "May I move now, anor nín?"
"Aye, you can move now, " Legolas said with a final swipe of his fingers through the slippery black locks. "Rinse your hair, rohir nín. And wet yours, 'Dan."
The prince bit back a grin as both elves plunged beneath the surface obediently, Elladan turning his back expectantly. Lathering his hands once more, Legolas worked the sweet-smelling soap into the dark elf's hair, then across his back, fingers digging pleasantly into the tight muscles.
"Gods, that feels good," the elder twin sighed, rolling his head from side to side before resting his forehead on Elrohir's shoulder.
"I think you are melting him again, 'Las," the elf-knight chuckled as he reached again for the soap tin. "Stand up, 'Dan, so I can wash you ere you flow away."
Elladan stifled a groan as his brother began sliding soapy hands over chest and arms, knowing fingers swirling around his peaked nipples and tugging gently on the piercing ring. The groan became a hiss as the hands traveled lower, causing his stomach to ripple and twitch as a thumb pressed teasingly into his navel.
Whimpering in protest, the elder twin felt the teasing hands slide over his hips and down his legs, kneading the muscles deftly, but leaving his aching groin untouched. Slowly the wicked fingers traveled back up his legs, lingering behind his knees, and then on the sensitive skin inside his thighs...
Suddenly the hands were gone, and Elladan's eyes flew open as a growl of warning sounded in his chest. "Rinse your hair, el nín," Legolas said quietly, a smile playing on his lips as he urged the dark elf down into the water.
Moving away slightly, the prince cast a smoldering gaze at Elrohir, and the elf-knight's eyes widened as a thought brushed his mind.
Go ahead, melethron. I want to watch.
Elladan raised himself from the water to find his brother but a hand's breadth away, lathering his hands again with a decidedly evil grin on his fair face.
I have not quite finished, hmm?
The elder twin had little time to ponder the cryptic remark before his mouth was caught in a fierce kiss, the strength and insistence of his brother's demand for dominance surprising and then overpowering him.
Even as his mouth was explored by a forceful tongue, Elladan felt a slick hand wrap suddenly around his throbbing length, the firm strokes forcing a moan from his throat. "Elbereth, 'Roh," he breathed as the voracious mouth made its way down his neck, nipping and sucking at the pale skin. "Please..."
"Please what, tôren?" Elrohir teased gently, rocking his hips forward against his brother. "Do you want me?"
Winding his hands in the elf-knight's sodden hair, Elladan rested his forehead on his twin's, gazing into his passion darkened eyes.
Always, rohir nín.
Legolas watched breathlessly as the mirror images melded, arms and legs intertwined to pull their bodies together, mouths feeding hungrily on each other and the translucent skin of exposed throats. He found himself mesmerized, as always, by what he felt certain to be the most erotic sight known to Elvendom. His twins, together.
As they had been seldom since the raiders left Mirkwood, the prince realized with a start. With little chance for intimacy, and no reliable privacy in the wild, there had been precious few fusings in the half-year just passed. Their hunger was well explained.
Lifting himself out of the water, Legolas stretched out in the soft grass near his completely oblivious lovers, watching transfixed as they writhed together, their movements perfectly attuned as Elrohir moved to lick and suckle his brother's hardened flesh, his fingers- slick with his own fluids- gently stretching and opening the tight passage.
The idea that he should be jealous or discomfited by the twin-bond was now incomprehensible to the prince, and he wondered vaguely how such nonsense had ever concerned him. Instead, he felt an amazement that bordered on awe, tempered by no small amount of smug pride, that these exquisite beings- nay, this exquisite being- was his, to watch and touch as no other ever had.
Drawing his wandering attention back to the sight at hand, Legolas swallowed thickly, his mouth suddenly dry as the twins rolled fluidly, and Elladan slithered down the elf-knight's body, pausing to nibble and tug at pebbled nipples, then trace the corded stomach lightly with his tongue before lowering his head to lavishly wet his brother's engorged member.
The prince took a shuddery breath, reaching instinctively to grasp his own aching shaft, and found his wrist caught suddenly in an iron grip. Looking up in surprise, he met Elladan's coal black gaze.
No, melethen. We would have you join with us.
Shivering slightly as he remembered the chaotic sensations of his last experience with their fusing, Legolas nodded and was immediately drawn into the tangle of pale limbs, Elrohir claiming his mouth in a searing kiss as the elder twin's insistent tongue lapped teasingly at his entrance, then pushed through suddenly, earning a sharp hiss from the prince.
A moment later, the hiss became a moan as slick fingers breached his body, curling expertly to stroke him from within. Legolas pressed down on the retreating fingers, growling his displeasure as they left his body.
Licking and nipping a trail of red ovals up the prince's ivory body, Elladan caught his mouth in a lingering kiss, then pulled back arching one ebony eyebrow in unspoken question.
In answer, Legolas leaned over and brushed a soft kiss over each swollen mouth, then moved away slightly. Elladan rolled to his knees and elbows, arching into the air in graceful invitation as Elrohir moved above, entering him in one sure thrust which sent twinned groans into the trees. The silvery sheen began to spread almost immediately, curling around the joined forms until both shimmered luminously, and the prince thought surely the light must be visible in the raider's camp.
I do not believe so, anor nín. The sun is still quite bright.
Taking a deep breath, Legolas moved toward the extended hands and slipped beneath Elladan, allowing the gentle warmth of the glow to settle over him, soothing his spirit with the comforting sense of completeness- of belonging- that emanated from his joined lovers.
The prince was confused when urged to his back, but understanding dawned quickly, and he lifted his legs, wrapping them snugly around both of the twins as Elladan pushed steadily forward, burying himself in the clinging heat.
At once Legolas was caught up in the swirling sensations that had so overwhelmed him before. A maelstrom of pleasure bordering on pain rushed over him, and he felt the fierce ache pool in his groin as Elladan began to move carefully between his lovers, whimpering at the feeling of being both filled and sheathed, the sensations magnified twofold by the fusing.
Just when Legolas thought he must end it, or go mad, a hand wrapped firmly around his weeping length, stroking in perfect time to the increasingly forceful thrusts, and a voice echoed in his mind.
Let go, melethen. Scream for me, hmm?
It was too much, and scream he did, letting go a keening wail as he spilled copiously, the iridescent fluid splashing hotly over Elladan's stomach, as well. A single thrust later, a blended howl rang out as the twins released together, collapsing heavily on the exhausted prince.
Their movements perfectly synchronized, the dark elves dropped to either side of Legolas, and snuggled tight against him, their legs comfortably tangled. "We need another bath," they chuckled drowsily, in stereo. "Later."
The prince smiled and pressed a soft kiss to each forehead, his eyelids trying to close. "Aye, later," he agreed with a sigh, giving in to the warm pull of sleep. "Melin chen."
Melin chen, anor nín.
Elvish Translations:
anor nín - my sun
melethen - my love
el nín - my star
tôren - my brother
ernilen - my prince
rohir nín - my knight
melethron - lover (male)
Melin chen - I love you
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