TITLE:  No Longer (5/5)
AUTHOR:  Ezra’s Persian Kitty
(ezraspersiankitty@yahoo.com)
PAIRING:  Elladan/Elrohir
RATING:  PG (adult themes)
SUMMARY:  For every action, there is consequence.
DISCLAIMER:  I don’t own, I don’t profit, you don’t
sue.
WARNING:  Incest
NOTES:  The previous chapter could well end the story,
but I thought this a necessary cap to the tale.  After
all, when you’re an elf, a lifetime is a long time to
keep a secret.  Plus, I’m a huge Elrond fan: needed to
get more of his glory into the narrative.


Part 4:  No Longer Apart

     Though the golden leaves eternally fell in
Rivendell, autumn had set upon the whole of Middle
Earth, and the calling wind was at its worst, rolling
the tumbling leaves throughout forests and dells and
plains.  At Imladris, the waterways were nearly
plugged with leaves, turning and roiling about in the
white water of the falls and rapids.  
     The courtyards were empty on this bitter fall
morning.  None were there to take note of the wind or
watch the leaves go tripping past on the harsh breeze.
 But in the garden that sat away from the wind,
flowers still bloomed and the statues stood as they
had for an age.  The players’ board at the center,
however, was vacant.  The stone stools sat alone and
unused pieces were carefully tucked in their places
amid the low stone shelf of the table.
     The wind that managed to find its lonely way to
the place left in disappointment, for none were there
to heed its call.  So the air went gusting upwards to
whip around the towers and turrets and upper hallways,
seeking cracks under windows and doors.  
     Finding a window open to the morning breeze, the
air went whirling inside, playing at the tapered
curtains and sliding a draft toward the bed.
     Still sleeping, Elladan shivered in the morning
breeze, drawing instinctively closer to his brother. 
Elrohir smiled, and did the same, tugging the blankets
closer around them as Elladan awoke.
     Elrohir snuggled into the now conscious embrace,
mumbling sleepily against the bared chest, “Why do we
no longer play chess, brother?”
     Smiling, Elladan answered, “After a lifetime of
it, I grew bored of always winning.  Besides, we have
other ways to entertain ourselves.”
     Elrohir smirked as he lay silent for some time,
feigning to consider that response thoughtfully.
“Quite right,” was his eventual and enthusiastic
reply, laying a kiss to the warm skin beneath his
lips.  “Why don’t you remind me?” he requested,
batting dark lashes.
     Elladan grinned and rolled them over, pinning his
lover to the bed and claiming his mouth with a kiss.

///***///

     Aragorn found his foster brothers picnicking in a
small glen not far from Rivendell’s western gate.
     “Estel!” Elrohir leapt up from his seat on the
grassy clearing beside the burbling stream to greet
Aragorn with an enthusiastic hug, despite the grime
still clinging to him from his journeys through the
wilderness.  “We did not expect you for another week
at least!”
     Elladan also rose, gripping his human brother’s
wrist and smiling.  “Good to see you home again.”
     “I am glad to be home,” he admitted.  “One of our
party—you know young Luinmir?—took an arrow in the
side, hence we brought him swiftly hither for your
father to see to him.”
     “And is the wound serious?” Elrohir asked with
concern.
     “Nay, he will heal within a moon,” the ranger
reassured them.
     “Please,” Elrohir offered, reseating himself
beside Elladan.  “Sit, join us.”
     Aragorn nodded.  “I thank you,” he said, lowering
himself to the ground and reaching for an apple. 
“Erestor said I might find you here.”
     “Indeed,” Elladan began, “Strider returns from
the depths of the forest with an injured elf, and
rather than seeking a sorely needed bath, hunts
instead for his brothers merely gone for a stroll.  Is
your desire to see us truly so great?”
     Aragorn bowed his head.  “I admit I was worried
not finding you at home.  But from what I gather from
Erestor, things are greatly changed between you.”
     The twins shared a nervous look that the man did
not see.  “We have talked through a great many
things,” Elrohir admitted.  
     “Well, I can see right off that you are again
easy in each other’s company.  It is a relief to my
heart to see that, no matter the cause,” Aragorn
pronounced, and the elves could see the truth in his
grey eyes.
     “You might say we have come to our senses and not
let needless doubts and worries come between us,”
Elladan suggested.
     “Then I wish I might learn your courage.”
     Elrohir grinned, reaching out to grip Aragorn’s
shoulder firmly.  “You shall,” he promised.  “I know
it.”

///***///

     Elrohir perched at the edge of his brother’s bed,
nervously licking his lips as was his habit when
upset.
     Even more distressed was Elladan, who paced the
length of the room parallel to the open balcony,
wringing his hands and glaring darkly at the floor.
     “We cannot hide from him like children,” Elrohir
finally addressed the shadow that lay between them.
     “I will not hide,” Elladan affirmed.  “But I feel
the reality of our situation is coming clear to me.”
     Elrohir offered a smile.  “Mithrandir can have
that effect on people.  Myself, I thought father would
see all at once.  But he has said nothing.  Nor
Glorfindel, who is like a second father to us.  Nor
Erestor, who has looked over us since childhood.  Nor
Arwen, newly returned from Lorien—she has seen no
difference.  Nor Aragorn, who perceived no queerness
between us.  Perhaps even the Grey Pilgrim is blind to
hidden truths.”
     Elladan eventually ceased his incessant traipsing
about, turning to face his brother.  “I hope you are
right.”

------

     As Aragorn had suggested, Elrond had newly
commissioned a table to be constructed.  Perfectly
round it was, and huge, and took up most of the main
dining room, where guests were seated in no particular
order, though Glorfindel had taken his preferred seat
at Elrond’s right hand.  To the Half-elven lord’s left
was Mithrandir, arrived from some distant land for a
session of peace and rest at the Last Homely House,
where he was always welcome.  Beside the humble istari
was Arwen, listening—like her father—attentively to
Mithrandir’s tales of travel and amusing anecdotes.
     Though the twins had attempted to seat themselves
among Luinmir and his many sisters on the opposite
side of the table and far from Mithrandir, Glorfindel
had drawn Elrond’s sons into grudging conversation and
they now sat side by side to his right, trying to
watch the wizard without being observed themselves.
     But when he eventually tired of talking about his
own adventures, Mithrandir turned his attention to
Elladan and Elrohir.  “Well, my boys, what have the
two of you been up to since I last visited your
father’s house?”
     Thankfully, the dinner was considered informal,
and the brothers could speak without fear of being
scrutinized, with many other conversations going on
about the table.  Elrohir, of course, spoke first. 
“Naught of interest, Mithrandir.  This winter has been
quiet and we have done little but hunt and patrol the
borders, though we are planning another sojourn into
eastern orc territory with Aragorn our foster brother
this coming April.”
     “I see you still attend your duties and have not
grown idle; that is good.  Though I imagine you spend
enough time in the library, Elrohir.  And you, the
stables, Elladan?”
     Elladan answered, burying his nerves as he had
once buried his heart.  “Not as much as we have these
last years, though I often find myself dragged into
our father’s overlarge collection of history annals
when Elrohir believes he has found something of
interest.  I believe the better part of three months
was spent researching the origins of hair-braiding
among our brethren, though for what purpose I cannot
as yet tell,” Elladan spoke lightly, earning a
disapproving glare from Elrond at the mention of his
over-stocked records and a sigh from Elrohir at the
mock disrespect shown to his research.
     Mithrandir only smiled as Arwen giggled at the
understated humor of her brother.  Glorfindel watched
with interest, smiling to himself and picking at his
dinner.
     To the twins’ left, Erestor watched all in
silence.

------

     “Well, I believe our sins have gone unnoticed
again,” Elrohir sighed, falling back onto Elladan’s
bed.
     But Elladan stood at his balcony, overlooking the
main courtyard as dusk settled upon Rivendell.  “I
would not be so sure.  That old man oftentimes speaks
much and says little.  And he hears what is unsaid as
well as our father, perhaps as well as our mother’s
mother.”
     Elrohir rolled to his side.  “Have you no hope?”
     Turning to walk within, Elladan smirked.  “You
have taught me hope, dear brother,” he said, sitting
on the bed and leaning down to kiss Elrohir’s brow. 
“And I dearly hope that Mithrandir stays no more than
a fortnight, and with his knowing gaze focused
elsewhere.”

///***///

     The brothers jumped apart from their close
embrace at the sudden rapping at their door.  Elladan
swiftly straightened the bedcovers and laid back
nonchalantly as Elrohir did up his collar before
striding to open the door.  “Yes?”
     Erestor stood, proud and distant as always,
reciting, “Mithrandir departs today.”
     “We have not forgotten; we have already said our
goodbyes,” Elrohir informed him.
     “That may be, but he awaits you both at the
gate.”
     Elrohir thanked his father’s warden and quickly
shut the door, turning to lean back against it,
looking fearfully to his brother.  “I knew a month was
too long.  When he spoke to us earlier, I feared the
worse… though he said nothing.  But now he calls for
us.  What do you suppose this means?”
     Elladan stood without hesitation.  “I do not plan
to mope about it,” he stated proudly, protesting
Elrohir’s edgy mood.  “Let us go to him at once.”

------

     Elladan and Elrohir walked with matched strides
out to meet Mithrandir at the main gate.  “Ah, my
boys, so glad you could come.  Perhaps you will walk
an old man down the road a bit.”
     “Of course,” Elrohir replied, moving to stand
beside the wizard where he was already mounted upon a
dull brown horse.  Elladan walked beside his brother
and the three immortals set off down the meandering
road from The Last Homely House west of the mountains.
     Once they had gone quite some way, Mithrandir
pulled his horse to a stop and turned to face the
twins.  “Truly, I am glad to find you well.  And
before I leave, let me say to you: When the time comes
to face the consequences of your decisions, I will
stand beside you.”
     And with that, he turned his horse to the west
and galloped off, not awaiting any answer from the
stunned sons of Elrond.

///***///

     The winter winds had died away and the fresh air
of spring wafted in through the open window where
Elrohir had again stole into his brother’s room and
lay now wrapped in an unconscious embrace.  He smiled
up at the sight of his sleeping brother and held him
close.  
     Invariably he was the first to wake, and though
his brother would rouse as soon as he stirred, neither
particularly minded.  Elrohir was content to rest in
those strong arms, and Elladan did not mind awaking to
morning kisses.  
     Elrohir turned his dark head to look out at the
new spring morning, bathing in the light of the rising
eastern sun.
     Elladan shifted at the movement, but did not
wake, and Elrohir lazed half atop his nude form,
laying his head against the chest to hear the beating
heart.
     *THUMP THUMP THUMP*
     “Elladan!  Elladan, are you awake?”
     A surge of fear coursed through Elrohir and
before he could even slip out of bed, the door to the
room was flung open and Glorfindel burst inside, a
cluster of old papers in his hand.  “Elladan, I’ve
been looking for your brother; you can’t imagine—”
     The three elves froze, two pairs of dark eyes
staring up at Glorfindel’s shocked blue gaze.
     Well aware of what was going through both his
brother’s mind and Glorfindel’s, Elladan hugged his
brother tighter and met the elder elf’s eyes with an
expressionless stare.
     Elrohir’s soul-deep pain and fear, however, were
all too evident in the shining depths of his eyes, but
he managed an even voice.  “Glorfindel.  I do believe
your mother taught you HOW to knock?” he said, even as
he cursed himself for taking no mind to the lock.
     Standing still in mid-step, as though mot moving
meant not having to deal with the situation laid out
before him, Glorfindel stood flustered, the old
documents gripped tight in one hand, the silver
doorknob in the other.
     “Glorfindel,” Elladan spoke.  “You’re letting in
a draft.”
     Immediately, the fair-haired elf dropped the
papers, which fluttered like falling leaves about him
to rasp against the tiled floor, and slammed the door
shut behind him.  He still stared, dazed, at the scene
he had walked in upon.  “Sorry, I—”  But he could not
continue.  “What… what is this?”
     “This is precisely what you cannot fathom,”
Elrohir explained.
     Glorfindel finally managed to overcome his shock,
and he bowed his head, eyes painfully shut, hands
pressed flat to the door behind him.  He searched for
some comforting words to say, but none could be found.
 “I have a duty to our people and our laws,” he
finally explained in a low, dull tone.  “Deeper still
is my loyalty to you.  Yet even greater is my
allegiance to your father.  I cannot lie to Lord
Elrond.”
     “Then we will not ask you to,” Elladan assured
him.  “Go to.”
     Glorfindel bowed as he rarely did to acknowledge
his dismissal and quickly gathered the loose papers
before slipping silently out the door.
     Silence reigned in the bedroom.
     “Elrohir?”
     “Hm?”
     “I cannot feel my arms.”
     “Oh!”  Elrohir jumped away before reaching out to
soothe the deep purple bruises he had inflicted on
Elladan’s biceps throughout his strained terror.  “I
am sorry!”
     “I know.”
     Elrohir continued the massage as he ignored the
pricking of tears in his dark, solemn eyes.  Elladan
still stared at the closed door, quickly thinking
through everything that had just happened, and every
option that lay before them.
     Finally, Elrohir addressed the thoughts in a
trembling voice.  “Do we wait?  Or approach him
ourselves?”
     Elladan had already reached the decision he knew
would have to be made.  “Make him come to us while we
hide like war criminals?  I think not.”  Elladan
brushed warm lips over Elrohir’s sweating brow.  “We
have done no wrong.”
     Hesitantly removing his hands, breaking the
comforting link of touch between them, Elrohir nodded.
 In despairing quietude, the brothers crept from their
bed to quickly dress themselves.  Wordlessly, they
selected matching traveling clothes from Elladan’s
closet and after leaving the room, broke into a run.

------

     Glorfindel wiped the tears from his eyes and
slowed his pace at the sound of pounding feet behind
him.  He turned and was surprised to see the
law-breakers approach.  “Elladan?  Elrohir?  What are
you—”
     “We will not shirk our duty,” Elrohir explained. 

     “We will wait in the anteroom while you report,”
Elladan elaborated.
     Glorfindel regarded them curiously, but then
nodded his acceptance and turned to lead the way to
Lord Elrond’s study.

------

     Glorfindel grimaced to himself as he knocked
firmly on the door.  The twins had seated themselves
on a nearby bench and watched him with faces
expressionless but for pained eyes.
     “Come,” he heard through the door, and opened it
to glide in as Elrond bid him enter.  
     The chamber faced west and was poorly lit this
time of day, though elves needed no more light to see
by, but it seemed rather dreary and depressing to him
suddenly as he slowly approached the elder elf.  “My
Lord,” he said.
     Elrond looked upon him, a question ready on his
tongue, but at the expression of fear and sorrow and
shock on Glorfindel’s face, changed his words, rising
as he spoke.  “What has happened?” he demanded.
     Still stunned, Glorfindel stared in silence a
moment before finding his voice.  He could not meet
Elrond’s black eyes and looked to the tiled floor as
he said, “It is your sons, my Lord.  They have
committed a grievous crime.”
     When the fair elf faltered, Elrond managed in his
shock, “Well?!”
     Glorfindel jumped at the sudden bellow laced with
stunned disbelief.  He forced himself to continue. 
“Against the laws of our people, they have known each
other—”
     Wide-eyed, Elrond stood speechless.  “This is a
serious accusation, Glorfindel,” he then said, calmly
but for the hint of a growl.
     “Yes Lord, and they would not lie to me.”  He
managed to look up and meet the cold gaze burning into
him.  “Nor to you.”
     Elrond considered him a moment, and saw no
falsehood there.  Only sorrow.  “Very well.  Find
them.  Escort them to me hither with all haste.”
     Glorfindel stood erect and proudly reported,
“They know my duty to you, Lord Elrond, and theirs as
well.  They only await your call.”
     Elrond sighed.  He would not even have a moment’s
peace to think.  “Brave boys, brave sons,” he
muttered.  “Bring them in.”

------

     The twins turned away from the muted conversation
within their father’s chamber, turning instead to
whisper uncertain words of comfort while they awaited
their doom.
     It was not long before Glorfindel emerged.  He
came forward and bowed.  “Your father waits upon your
convenience.”
     “Thank you,” Elrohir tried to say confidently,
frightening himself when it came out a breathless
murmur.
     “We go at once,” Elladan said, his own voice firm
and resigned, but still forgiving.
     Glorfindel looked at him meaningfully, fair head
cocked to the side, before stepping away.
     Elladan rose, but Elrohir could not move, and so
the elder held out his hand, which the younger
nervously gripped.  Pulling him up, Elladan led them
both to the closed door and firmly tapped it with a
sharp knuckle.
     Elrond muttered an invitation and the twins
entered.
     Their father was moving about the room, lighting
various candles where they were, filling the chamber
with a warm yellow light.  At their entrance, he
ceased his task, returning to sit behind his great
desk.
     Hand in hand, the twins approached to stand
before him, ignoring the chairs made ready there.
     Elrond surveyed them with pained black eyes, an
almost lost expression on his ageless face. 
“Glorfindel has accused you of incest.  Is his claim
true?”
     “Aye,” his sons answered him in unison, their
striking images even more amazing for the exact
clothing and expressions they wore.  And for the first
time in over two thousand five hundred years, Elrond
found that he could not tell his sons apart.
     He only knew when the first spoke which was
which.  “Yes.  It is wrong,” Elrohir acknowledged.
     “We have always known this.  But I cannot look to
Elrohir, the younger, the smarter, the sweeter, in
anything other than complete and utter devotion, a
love that cannot, should not be.”
     “I have lain with Elladan in love and love alone.
 No one can tell me this is wrong, but I will accept
our punishment, I will pay the cost of our crime, as
long as it be not that of division.  If you part me
from Elladan, we will leave you.  Punish us, banish
us, yes, imprison us for our crime, but do not ask us
to part.”  Elrohir ignored the well of tears that
overflowed in two pearly tracks down his pale cheeks. 
“That would be greater evil still and the despair you
have witnessed in your sons over the years would only
overwhelm us entirely.”  Elrohir still clutched
Elladan’s hand desperately.  “I know I could not
survive it.”
     “Hate us.  Damn us,” came Elladan’s voice, low
with unnamed emotion.  “But divorce us not.”
     Elrond looked to his desk, no longer able to bear
the weight of his sons’ double stares.  It seemed an
eternity the three of them stayed fixed, awaiting some
sign.  But eventually, Elrond stood of his own accord,
and came round the desk to stand before the lovers. 
Tears, too, adorned his paled face and the tenor of
his voice wavered with its unrestrained intensity.  “I
know well the laws of our people.  I know too the
great love between you; it should have been easy to
see.  And I would not divorce you for a kingdom, nor
banish you, nor punish you.”
     The twins shared confused, hopeful glances.
     “No, I would never do such a thing.”  Elrond
moved forward and raising his arms, enfolded them in a
tender embrace.  “You are my only sons, and I love you
still.  I will contest the Valar themselves for your
sake; I will cast away the laws of our people.  In my
eyes, you have done no wrong.”
     Elladan and Elrohir let lose their tears as they
fell into their father’s embrace tightly.  Elladan’s
sobs were muffled in Elrond’s velvet robe, and he was
beyond words, but Elrohir spoke, begging, “Then we do
not dishonor you with our ‘thaur mel’?”
     “Oh,” Elrond sighed mournfully through his own
steady weeping.  “How can any love be wrong?”

------

     The three Peredhil sat in silence, lazing about
Elrond’s study among the many cushioned chairs.  “We
are agreed then?” Elladan asked.
     “Mm, I agree that despite his shock, I do not
think Glorfindel is truly surprised.  And Erestor,
despite is upright ways, would say nothing if I did
not disapprove.  And you may be right.  Perhaps Arwen
knows her brothers better than I.  You may tell her if
you wish.”
     “I do not think Erestor should know,” Elrohir
again protested quietly from his lounge chair. 
     “We need not tell him,” Elrond eventually agreed.
 “All I mean to say is that should he discover you, he
will not pursue any course against you without my
leave, which he shall never have.”
     Elrohir nodded.  
     Curious, Elrond could not suppress his next
question.  “Did you bind yourselves?”
     “Yes,” Elrohir answered.  “Before we…”
     Elrond smiled when his younger son trailed off. 
“Well, that should give me some comfort, I suppose.”
     Abruptly, Elladan asked, “Do you think Glorfindel
still waits?”
     “I instructed him to,” Elrond said, his mind
elsewhere.
     Elladan and Elrohir shared an amused look.  “Then
perhaps you should ask him in before he wanders away
to spread the news.” 
     “Hm?”
     “He has been out there since before breakfast. 
It is past noon.”
     Coming back to himself, Elrond finally realized
that he’d left his servant and dear friend guarding
the door and awaiting an edict for over four hours. 
He jumped at once to his feet and raced to the door,
throwing it open with an echoing boom.  “Glorfindel!”
     In the hall, the fair elf shrieked, leaping to
his feet from the bench and clutching at his pounding
heart.  “I come,” he nervously stated, walking
uncertainly to the door.
     “Yes thank you,” Elrond said, standing aside to
let him pass.  “And I apologize; I did not mean to
startle you.”
     Glorfindel only nodded as he brushed past Elrond
and entered the room to see the twins’ amused
expressions.
     Elrond closed the door and placed his hand to the
small of Glorfindel’s back, leading him toward the
lounge area.  “We have some things to discuss, the
four of us, and a request to make…”
     Neither elf noticed Erestor’s shadow-swathed form
standing still as stone at the end of the long hall.

------

     “Are you content?”
     “I am,” Elrohir answered where he lay unclothed
atop his brother in his bed.  “Our father will not
betray us.  Neither will Glorfindel.  Nor Mithrandir. 
I consider myself not only content but also safe with
three such allies.  And,” he added with a smirk, “we
shall remember to lock doors.”
     Elladan lay silent, absently stroking long
fingers through black silk hair.
     “Elladan… are you content?”
     “I am at ease with much and blissful always with
you.”
     “Yet something still troubles you.”
     The elder slowly blinked, their old way of saying
yes.  “Elrond is a good elf, a good lord.  I never
thought him one to put himself or his sons above any
law.”
     “Yet he accepted us without hesitation.  No
terms, no demands.  And you would question him?”
     “I would,” Elladan confirmed.  “And I will. 
Tomorrow.  I cannot leave this matter to die between
us; I must know his reasons, even if it is only his
love for us.”
     Elrohir considered this carefully.  “Do what you
will.  But I will not accompany you: his word is
enough for me.”
     “You are too sweet,” Elladan finally smiled,
tipping up his brother’s chin and meeting his lips in
a slow kiss.

------

     Elrond looked up from his reading at the
respectful tapping at his study door.  “Come.”
     Elladan slunk into the room and padded silently
to his father’s desk to stand before him there.
     “Ah, Elladan, you wished you speak with me,”
Elrond acknowledged, setting aside his book and rising
from his seat.
     “I do.  There is something I must know.”
     Elrond bowed his head and turned away, long robes
trailing behind him as he wandered to the western
window where the sun melted into the horizon, blazing
intensely across the evening sky.  “Then speak.”
     Disconcerted at having to face his father’s back,
Elladan gathered himself once more and addressed the
Half-elven Lord with his concerns, a rare passion and
intense curiosity in the normally even voice.  Soft
and slow and dear were his words.  “I have asked
myself countless times since I was blessed with a love
equal to my own, ‘How can this be?  After all we’ve
learned in our long lives, about good and evil, right
and wrong, how, HOW can he love me?’”  Elladan wavered
a moment, remembering those early questions before he
resumed his plea.  “And now I must ask… how can you
accept us, you who have seen the fall of kings and
kingdoms, the passing of ages, how can you accept this
of your own sons?”
     Elrond still looked to the uncommon beauty of the
sunset, the blue dome split by a multitude of pinks
and oranges, reds and purples, and shot through with a
golden light.  At length, though, he turned away from
the sight to meet the dark, expectant gaze of his son,
and in that moment, the great age, the wisdom, the
suffering of a thousand lifetimes was visible in those
shining eyes as he offered his simple answer.  “I,
too, had a brother.”




(But that is another story.)

The end.




------

A note on the elvish (taken from Tolkien’s notes in
The Silmarillion):

The name of Elladan’s horse, ‘Gil-eithel,’ is taking
from the elvish for ‘star’ and ‘well,’ ‘gil’ and
‘eithel,’ respectively.

‘Nimlos’ in this case, means ‘Snow White.’  Nim=white,
los=snow

Luinmir…  luin=blue, mir=jewel

‘Thaur mel’ translated within the story means, ‘wrong
love.’
‘Thaur’ is literally ‘abominable’ or ‘abhorrent.’



Needless trivia:  The phrase, ‘no longer,’ appears ten
times within the five-part text of this story.