Mirkwood 2151 III
"'Tis a sight I would have never thought to see, tôren," Barangolas said, shaking his head in continued amazement. "'Twas only Gwaeron past that they seemed likely to come to blows."
Legolas smiled slightly, following his brother's gaze to the observation flet where Elladan and Anteruon sat, obviously deep in conversation, their gestures animated as the discourse focused on the treatment of a wound, the setting of a bone, the dousing of a stubborn fever.
"They have much to speak of since Anteruon has put away his animosity," Legolas answered. "I am glad to see them so comfortable together."
"As am I," Barangolas agreed heartily. Caught up in memories of the tension fraught days of spring, the youngest woodland prince was startled back to the present by his brother's unexpected remark. "Pardon, tôren?"
"I said 'tis well enough that I knew Anteruon involved with Amoniel, and a committed lover of ellith besides, else I would have thought him smitten with 'Dan," Legolas replied. "His pique bordered on obsession, at times."
Dumbfounded by his brother's unwitting accuracy, Barangolas bit back a sigh of relief when Elrohir approached, saving him the necessity of a reply. "I think you had best take this one to the caverns, tôr einior," he said with a grin, looking over the elf-knight's sweat-and-dirt streaked form. "And then to the healers. Tiri and Lind have damaged him."
"I am not damaged, mellonen," Elrohir retorted, wiping his face wearily with his discarded tunic. "Merely winded. Those two are quite a team."
"Aye, they are," Barangolas answered absently, his attention fixed firmly on the sparring field.
Legolas chuckled, smacking his brother lightly on the shoulder. "'Twould seem that we are not the only ones headed for the caverns, hmm, pen dithen? Or will you bed Lind without benefit of a wash?"
"Sweat does have its merits," Barangolas mused, his emerald eyes dancing with mirth as he began to move toward his lover. "But I think a long soak in a private tub is called for in this case."
"A private tub, indeed," Legolas repeated thoughtfully, glancing toward the platform where Elladan and Anteruon remained lost in their talk of elixirs and herbs.
Turning an unmistakably predatory gaze on Elrohir, the woodland prince smiled. "I will prepare you a bath in our chambers, melethen," he promised, "and we will discuss the issue of debt."
It was with some trepidation that the elf-knight finally rose from the bath and began toweling himself dry. Imperiously ordered into the tub, hair and skin scrubbed within an inch of his potentially immortal life, he had then been instructed to soak in the refilled tub as long as he liked. The warm, scented water eased both his muscles and his mind, and he had tarried until the bath began to cool. Slipping into the loose leggings that lay waiting near the towels, Elrohir drew a deep breath before opening the door into the bedchamber.
Late afternoon sunlight streamed into the room, dappling the woven walls with patches of gold and shadow. The balcony door stood ajar, allowing a cool breeze to waft into the chamber. Just as the elf-knight realized his lover was nowhere to be seen, Legolas stepped through the open door.
The woodland prince had changed into simple leggings as well, and Elrohir felt a familiar flare of heat in his groin as he took in the sight. Golden hair hung unbound, streaming over the prince's shoulders, seeming ablaze in the warm light. His creamy skin glowed softly, bringing well-defined muscles into sharp relief. The blue-green gaze that had been so appraising earlier sparkled with affection, as well as desire.
"Come sit on the bed, rohir nín," Legolas said, extending a hand in invitation. "I will comb your hair, if you like."
Settling himself on the edge of the bed, a goblet of Dorwinion in his unresisting hand, Elrohir sighed with pleasure as the woodland prince moved to sit behind him, pulling gentle fingers through the damp mass of his hair before beginning to comb the ebony strands.
The elf-knight roused himself with difficulty when the rhythmic motion ceased and turned to look at his companion questioningly. "'Tis hardly payment, anor nín, to have you coddle me. Or have you yet to claim your due?"
Urging Elrohir back against the pile of pillows at the head of the bed, Legolas took the empty wineglass and set it aside. "Nay, this is what I claim," he retorted with a grin, moving to sit astride the elf-knight's thighs. "Just you, alone and at my mercy."
"I have no complaints," Elrohir chuckled, turning his head invitingly as a warm mouth moved over his throat. "Though mercy is not a quality I associate with...Valar, wood-elf! That hurt!"
Legolas licked the angry red bite mark soothingly, then pulled away to meet his lover's gaze. "Less banter, more moaning, Peredhel," he said unrepentantly, his eyes dancing. "Else I shall find something to occupy your mouth."
"Indeed?" the elf-knight asked, one dark eyebrow arching in amusement. "Would that be..."
"'Roh?" Legolas broke in, his breath ghosting across Elrohir's lips. "Shut up."
The younger twin's retort was lost in a plundering kiss, an aggressive assault by tongue and teeth that left him breathless and vaguely uneasy. Insistent hands cradled his head, pulling gently, and then one ear tip was captured, drawn into the wet warmth to be nipped and suckled.
The woodland prince growled in approval as a reluctant moan was wrenched from his lover. "Aye, that is the sound I wish to hear, melethen," he crooned, releasing Elrohir's head before pressing another searing kiss to the reddened lips.
Catching the elf-knight's hands in his own, Legolas guided them to the thick branches that formed the headboard. "Hold tight, rohir nín," he purred, a mere heartbeat before he slid down to nuzzle Elrohir's pierced nipple, tugging and flipping the mithril ring with his tongue.
Elrohir gasped raggedly as the sharp tingle caused by the ring's movement coursed through his body. Agile fingers mapped the muscles and planes of his torso, a trail of wet kisses following their wandering path. A teasing tongue stabbed his navel once...twice, before sharp teeth closed on the leather ties that closed his leggings, tugging them loose with practiced ease.
Legolas chuckled, the vibrations doing nothing to ease the twitching beneath his lover's stretched lacings. Pressing his mouth to the thin fabric, he exhaled slowly, sending a wash of warm air over the elf-knight's hard length. A satisfying howl sounded, and a triumphant grin spread across the woodland prince's face. "Up, melethron," he ordered, slapping Elrohir's hip lightly. "You are overdressed."
The elf-knight raised his hips obediently, shuddering as his hot skin was bared to the cool breeze. Caught in his lover's darkened emerald gaze, Elrohir watched as a curtain of silken gold descended, the ends teasing his stomach and groin in the instant before his aching arousal was engulfed. "Oh, yes," he breathed, biting back a whimper as the skilled tongue swirled and fluttered. "Yes..."
Tightening his grip on the elf-knight's hips, Legolas let the swollen shaft slip from his lips. Ignoring his lover's growl of protest, he flicked his tongue over the soft skin of Elrohir's inner thighs before moving lower to nuzzle the tender sac, already drawn up snug and tight.
Elrohir went still, his knuckles whitening as he squeezed the bark-covered curves of the headboard. Desire struggled with anxiety as the wicked tongue crept lower, and the elf-knight swallowed hard, searching for the words to explain.
Legolas pulled away, rising to his knees to remove his dampened leggings before settling back onto Elrohir's lap. "I would not ask it of you, 'Roh," he murmured, pressing a flurry of soft kisses to the younger twin's face. "'Tis between you and 'Dan."
"'Las...I..." Elrohir began, only to be interrupted by a fierce kiss.
"Not now, rohir nín," Legolas groaned, grasping both straining arousals, spreading the copious fluids. "Now is for pleasure. For us." Pressed snugly against Elrohir's chest, the golden elf impaled himself on his lover's slick length.
The elf-knight hissed as he was sheathed in the unprepared passage, fighting the urge to thrust up and bury himself in the velvety heat. His eyes fluttered closed as Legolas began to rock slowly, the gentle motion sending bolts of sensation rippling over both their bodies. Lowering his arms, Elrohir gripped the prince's hips and opened his eyes to meet the dilated emerald gaze. "Melin chen," he whispered, capturing his lover's mouth in a lingering kiss.
"Melin chen," Legolas moaned, his movements becoming larger and more rapid as his body accepted and then welcomed the piercing length. "Oh, gods, 'Roh..."
Elrohir groaned with relief as he felt his lover relax, and he began to move with Legolas, meeting each downward slide with an upward thrust of his hips. Spiraling quickly toward his own release, the elf-knight wrapped his hand firmly around the hard length that prodded his stomach, stroking in time to the increasingly erratic lunges of the prince's body.
Legolas threw his head back with a whimper as the strong hand closed around him, his body trembling on the edge of completion. With a final downward plunge the prince fell, spilling over Elrohir's fist with a keening cry, even as he was filled with the liquid heat of his lover's release.
The elf-knight wrapped his arms around Legolas, burying his face in the sweat-damp curve of the prince's neck with a satisfied sigh. "Shall we say my debt is paid, then, melethen?"
"Aye," the woodland prince agreed drowsily, moving to curl against Elrohir's side. "We shall, indeed."
Elvish Translations:
Gwaeron - March
tôren - my brother
ellith - female elves
tôr einior - elder brother
mellonen - my friend
pen dithen - little one
melethen - my love
rohir nín - my knight
anor nín - my sun
melethron - lover (male)
Melin chen - I love you
Mirkwood 2151
"Legolas wished to take you, did he not?"
Elrohir's hands stilled, fingers gripping the arrow he had been fletching. "I do not know that to be true," he replied evasively, eyes fixed on the golden brown plumes that littered the grass. The meager supply of blue and grey feathers from Imladris had been long since depleted.
"I believe that you do, tôren," Elladan replied calmly, dropping to the ground beside his brother. Pushing back an ebony braid, the elder twin traced the darkly bruised bite mark that marred Elrohir's throat. "You refused him."
"He did not ask," the elf-knight corrected, at last meeting his twin's steady gaze.
"Nay, I do not suppose that he would," Elladan sighed. "The depth of his understanding oft astounds me. He slips so easily into the strands of our bond..."
"I am yours first, 'Dan," Elrohir said suddenly, his eyes wide and dark, as though beholding some unknown threat. "I will always be yours."
As I will always be yours, rohir nín.
His inexplicable fear eased somewhat by the familiar brush of Elladan's thoughts, the elf-knight drew a deep breath and pushed away the unfinished arrow, twining his fingers with those of his brother.
The elder twin tightened his grip for a moment, then leaned back against the massive trunk of the tree that sheltered them and opened his legs, looking at his companion questioningly.
It was all the invitation Elrohir required. Moving to sit in the offered space, the elf-knight leaned back against his brother's chest, sighing with contentment as two arms wrapped him snugly and Elladan's chin settled against his hair.
Thus had they comforted one another as long as either could remember, and Elrohir relaxed into the warm embrace, the last vestiges of anxiety soothed away by the scent and touch of his twin.
Elladan was silent for a long moment, his fingers twisting one mithril-sparked braid idly. "'Las would never wish to come between us, 'Roh," he chided mildly. "And did he so desire, he could not. You have allowed tension to overcome your reason."
"Aye, 'tis likely that I have," the elf-knight agreed finally, snuggling deeper in his lover's arms.
The elder twin rubbed his cheek against the midnight-dark hair, reassuring himself as much as his companion. There had been little time for even such chaste cuddling since the spring, and now it seemed as if their world shifted and shook around them. "Did you wish to submit, tôren?" Elladan asked at last.
"I...I was tempted," Elrohir admitted, tilting his head to meet his brother's eyes. "But I was loath to do so without your blessing." A grimace crossed the elf-knight's face as he added, "And I was anxious, too, I am ashamed to say. You have always been there, el nín. A part of me fears such surrender without the anchor of your presence."
"Shall I watch from the balcony then, melethen?" Elladan teased gently, his arms tightening in a show of comfort that belied his light words.
Elrohir snorted in mock affront, and the elder twin chuckled, dropping a kiss on his brother's nose before he continued, his voice sobering. "'Tis your decision to make, tôr dithen. I would not be hurt or angered, and 'Las is worthy of such trust. Mayhap you will know when the time is right."
"Will the time ever be right for you, 'Dan?" the elf-knight asked quietly, his fingers repeatedly mapping the muscles of one strong arm.
"I do not know," Elladan replied haltingly. "I have already surrendered much to him, in..."
"...in yielding while we are all together," Elrohir finished with a nod. "I know. And Legolas understands what he has been gifted with, as well."
The elder twin shook his head. "If 'twas a gift, then it was freely given. I did not mean to sound pompous. The greater trust was in allowing him to witness our fusing, and he did not fail us then." Elladan inhaled deeply. "I suppose I am reluctant to truly relinquish control, save to you, rohir nín."
"'Tis not a weakness, tôren," Elrohir said earnestly. "'Tis simply your nature, as it has always been. You cannot change it, and I would not have you try. Nor would 'Las, I wager."
Elladan arched one eyebrow skeptically, and the elf-knight broke into a cheeky grin.
"Our wood-elf speaks highly of your skill with a leather sash."
Elvish Translations:
tôren - my brother
rohir nín - my knight
el nín - my star
melethen - my love
tôr dithen - little brother
Imladris 2151 III
"I will send an escort with you to the upper pass," Elrond said thoughtfully, his gaze focused on the map spread across his cluttered desk. "The passage through the Misty Mountains becomes more and more treacherous. Each season it seems the ruffians become bolder and the weather more harsh."
"I arrived safely with naught but my guard," Thranduil replied, a touch of reproof in his voice. "They could no doubt see me home in like manner."
"No doubt," the Lord of Imladris agreed dryly. "But I would not have it said that I abandoned the King of Taur-na-Fuin to his fate. And I fear I have an ulterior motive, mellonen."
"Indeed?"
"Indeed," Elrond admitted. "The gwanûn crossed the peaks with Arahael and his company on their trek to your realm. They will likely be returning alone, and..."
"...would think little of a guard party sent to herd them home," Thranduil finished with a father's instinctive understanding. "But they can hardly begrudge me an escort, and as we are likely to cross paths in the mountains..."
"Exactly."
"They will certainly see through the ruse," the woodland king pointed out with a slight smile.
"Undoubtedly," Elrond answered, a grin very much like his younger son's lighting his face. "But I trust they are too well-schooled in diplomacy to make a fuss in the presence of visiting nobility."
Thranduil pondered the map briefly. "If they leave the Halls as planned tomorrow, with the new moon of Ivanneth, we should arrive at the high pass at nearly the same time. The battle party was headed for Ered Mithrin at the time of my departure. If all is well, there should be no cause to delay them past their expected return."
Laying a hand on Elrond's arm, the king asked impulsively, "Can you not reach the gwanûn?"
"At times I can, aye," the peredhel replied cautiously. "But our link is not reliable, by any means. I rarely attempt contact over any great distance. They are young, their abilities sporadic, and I fear causing distraction at some crucial moment."
"They should have reached the Halls soon after I entered the valley," Thranduil said quietly. "If there were no problems, the dangers are long behind them. And the ease with which Legolas and the gwanûn communicate is impressive."
"'Tis a somewhat different situation," the Lord of Imladris pointed out carefully. "Though I do not understand it completely."
"'Tis as though they are bound in some way," Thranduil agreed with characteristic frankness. "Legolas had shown no previous ability, and I did not expect such to appear for several more centuries."
Meeting his friend's twilight gaze, the king added, "But your line is gifted in such things, and Elladan and Elrohir carry the blood of Galadriel, as well."
"I will attempt to establish a connection, if you wish," Elrond said slowly. "I do not deny that I have desired to seek reassurance."
"It would make my leaving easier to bear, if I knew them safe and whole," Thranduil responded honestly. "But I do not ask that you move against your own judgement."
"I do not," the Peredhel assured his companion. Moving to sit in one of the overstuffed chairs that flanked his desk, he added wryly, "Make yourself comfortable, mellonen. We shall likely be here a while."
With that Elrond closed his eyes, his thoughts already reaching out toward Mirkwood.
Mirkwood 2151 III
Anteruon presided with evident satisfaction over the farewell feast he had ordered for the last night of the twins' visit. Lanterns swung gaily from branches overhead as the muted rumble of conversation and laughter rose from the crowded tables, warriors and diplomats alike enjoying the unusually lavish offerings.
"You have bested Ada, I do believe," Legolas announced with a smile, raising his glass in an impromptu toast to his brother. "'Tis a meal fit for the Valar."
"Hardly that, tôren," the eldest prince retorted gruffly, though he was unable to hide his pleasure at the praise. "I could not allow the gwanûn to leave us unheralded, after they provided such valorous service." Catching sight of the mischievous twinkle in Elrohir's eyes, he quickly added, "To the realm. Valorous service to the realm."
"Do not mind 'Roh, mellonen," Elladan said, casting a chiding glance at his twin. "He oft forgets himself. Or too seldom forgets himself, as the case may be."
Sleeping alone tonight, are you 'Dan?
I think not, tôr dithen.
"Mind your manners, or leave the table," Barangolas broke in, his emerald eyes dancing. "'Tis impolite..."
"...to mindspeak in public," Elrohir finished with an amused snort. "You begin to sound like Ada, or Glorfindel, ernilen."
"That is hardly an insult," the youngest woodland prince retorted with a grin. "I have been compared to less flattering characters than the Balrog-slayer and the Lord of Imladris."
Galueth had remained silent, happy to merely observe the teasing banter between her brothers and the twins from the security of her seat on Elladan's knee, but she was forced to speech by the mention of her beloved ancient friend. "You are not like 'Del, Bar'las," she announced disparagingly. "'Del is big, and brave, and pretty, and perfect."
Frowning at the burst of laughter which met her statement, the princess turned to her current champion with narrowed eyes. "Do you not think 'Del is perfect, El'dan?"
"Absolutely perfect, pen dithen," the elder twin agreed, giving the pouting elfling a squeeze. "Though Barangolas is certainly brave, too, is he not?"
"Aye, he is very brave," Galueth replied generously. "But he is not as big, nor as pretty as 'Del. And he is not perfect."
"A fair evaluation," the youngest prince conceded, chuckling. "But 'tis your bedtime, pen neth. Amoniel is waiting. You must rise early in the morn if you wish to see the gwanûn off on their journey."
The princess surrendered her hold on Elladan with obvious reluctance, but moved obediently to hug each of her brothers in turn.
"I will join you shortly, and we will have a story," Anteruon promised, winning a smile from the solemn elfling.
Coming to stand beside Elrohir, Galueth's gaze glistened. "Posto mae, El'hir," she said, embracing him tightly. "You and El'dan will not leave without saying 'Navaer', will you?"
"We would not dream of doing so," the elf-knight assured her, dropping a kiss on the intricate mahogany braids. "Posto mae, hirilen."
Watching Galueth leave the pavilion, Legolas sighed heavily. "'Twill be more hearts than mine torn by your going, I fear."
"'Tis time we were back to the valley, though," Elladan said soberly. "As it is, we will be hard pressed to arrive before the harvest ends."
"And 'tis high time Ada returned to the Halls, as well," Anteruon interjected with a grin, breaking the somber spell that had fallen over the gathered elves. "There is much annoyance and scarce joy in this business of being king."
"Mayhap," Legolas teased, "but Amoniel seems to like you in rulers-rags. You have spent precious little time in your own chambers these last weeks, tôren."
"Aye," the eldest prince admitted good-naturedly, "I will grant you that the nights bring some compensation for days spent in council."
"And for days spent on the training field," Legolas said impishly, pushing back his chair. "I believe 'tis time we were leaving the table and seeking our chambers."
"Though not necessarily our rest, hmm, tôr einior?" Barangolas retorted, smirking as Anteruon rose from his seat at the head of the table, signaling the meal ended.
'Adan...
Elladan stopped, glancing sharply at his twin as the faint echo sounded.
'Adan...
Elrohir turned to look back at his brother, a slight frown creasing his brow. "'Dan? Are you well?"
"Aye," Elladan answered slowly, his eyes scanning the darkened garden. "I thought I heard someone call."
"'Twas likely some partygoer leaving the pavilion," Legolas suggested, his smile fading when the elder twin did not agree.
"Someone called my name."
'Adan...
Elladan's eyes widened in sudden comprehension. "'Adan? 'Tis Ada!" Reaching urgently for Elrohir's hand, he bowed his head in concentration. "Help me, tôren."
The younger twin clasped the offered hand, opening his mind fully that he might share and strengthen his brother's thoughts. Immediately he heard the familiar voice, louder now in the stream of their joined consciousness.
'Adan?
A pause.
'Rohir?
I am here, Ada. We are here.
Valar be praised. Are you both well?
We are, híren.
And Legolas? He is unscathed?
He is, aye.
'Adan? What is amiss?
We have lost a warrior to the Halls of Waiting, Ada. One known as Berioron. Will you tell King Thranduil?
I will, ionen.
Ada?
Aye, 'Rohir?
Is all well in the valley? With Glorfindel and...and the others?
It is, indeed, pen neth. Will you leave the Wood as planned?
Aye. Tomorrow with the dawn, híren.
I will see you within a fortnight, then. Melin chen, 'Adan, 'Rohir. Elbereth's protection to you, yn nín.
Melim chen, Ada.
The woodland prince watched in awe as the connection first drew his companions in, blinding them to the physical world, then released them slowly, leaving the twins blinking owlishly at the gardens of Taur-na-Fuin.
"Is Ada well?" Legolas asked anxiously. "Is something amiss?"
"Peace, anor nín," Elladan answered, slipping a comforting arm around the prince's shoulders. "All is well. Ada merely wished to reassure himself. And the king, I wager."
"And there will be more tales to tell than ours when your adar arrives home, 'Las," Elrohir said with a grin, drawing a snicker from Legolas.
"Indeed," Elladan agreed, his eyes darkening as they swept over his brother and their prince. "But just now, I find myself yearning for our bed."
Elvish Translations:
Taur-na-Fuin - Mirkwood (literally 'wood of nightshade')
mellonen - my friend
gwanûn - twins
Ivanneth - September
Ered Mithrin - Grey Mountains
tôren - my brother
tôr dithen - little brother
ernilen - my prince
Adar, Ada - Father, Papa/Dad
pen dithen - little one
pen neth - young one
Posto mae - Sleep well
hirilen - my lady
gwador - brother (sworn - not by blood)
tôr einior - elder brother
ionen - my son
yn nín - my sons
Melim chen - We love you
anor nín - my sun
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