Title: Secrets
Author: Khylea  (sl_chester@hotmail.com)
Rating: NC-17 for incest and rape
Pairing: Twincest (Elrond’s sons, for those not familiar with the 
term.)
Warning: Rape and incest. If you don’t like this, go away. If you 
read it in spite of the warnings, and flame me because you hated it, 
I will send Glorfindel after you with his good friend the Balrog....and 
you KNOW what happened to him when he got on the bad side of a 
Balrog!
Timeline: Sometime late in the third age. Exact date is not critical, 
except it is between the time Celebrian sailed and Aragorn came to 
live in Imladris.
Archive: Feel free, just drop me a URL where I can visit it please 
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, J.R.R. Tolkien does, and 
I’m sure he would be horrified if he read this. I am making no profit, 
and am probably setting myself up for flames galore, but I don’t 
care. When the plot bunny speaks, I listen. :-)
Feedback: Please. First time writing Darkfic! Don’t know how I did. 
:-)
Beta: Manon. Thanks, hon!
Summary: When Elrohir begins having nightmares of being violated 
by his brother, he wants to believe they are nothing more than an 
overactive imagination. But are they? Or are there some things his 
father has kept hidden about Elladan for years? Please continue 
reading, the ending is not quite what you would expect.
Dedication: For Anais, who keeps me writing. :-)
Author's Notes: Okay, as stated in the warnings, this fic covers 
some fairly dark territory, including rape. (Elrohir is raped, FYI.) As I 
usually write silly, fluffy stories like "Icicle Cream", I have NO idea 
what possessed me to write this. Thanks to Orchyd for help with 
names, Anais for encouragement, and Vesta for help with the title. 
Last chance to turn back. As stated above, this covers rape and 
incest. Anyone who proceeds beyond this point and then flames me 
will have their flames used to power the Balrog I will send after you. 
Words enclosed in asterisks, *like this* are a character’s thoughts. 
Words enclosed in slashes //like this// are farspeaking thoughts. 
 
 
Part 1

Elrohir shivered as heated lips moved over his body, kissing, 
sucking, licking his most tender areas. His eyes closed of their own 
accord, but then opened, wanting to see his lover. The stormy grey 
eyes of his twin met his as he stared down at the raven-haired elf 
licking his stomach. "Mine," his twin said, gently nipping on his 
stomach. "Mine forever." Elrohir shivered again at the intensity in 
Elladan’s eyes, arching up into the gentle touch when a hand 
closed around his throbbing arousal.

"Yes....." he whispered, spreading his legs wantonly, begging for 
his brother’s touch. "....yours...." He gasped when he was suddenly 
tossed onto his stomach, the gentle, loving touches becoming hard, 
demanding, and painful. "....hurts...." he gasped, trying to push his 
suddenly demanding twin off. 

"Quiet!" his brother hissed into his ear, spreading his legs and 
shoving a finger inside his tight opening. "Mine, remember!" 

Elrohir squirmed at the intrusion, automatically clenching against 
the pain. "El...." He tried to fight, but was securely pinned to the 
ground. Another finger entered him and he moaned softly at the hot 
burning as his tender passage was torn. "Please....no....." 

"Mine! Mine forever, brother!" his twin hissed, and Elrohir suddenly 
screamed in pain when he was roughly yanked to his knees and 
slammed into hard. He bucked against the intrusion, trying to throw 
his brother off, but his hands were securely held against his hips. 

He arched his back, trying to squirm away, spitting out dirt and 
leaves as the new position caused his face to be shoved into the 
ground. 

"El! You are hurting me! Stop! Please!!! Stop!!" He hated the hot 
tears that coursed down his cheeks at every brutal thrust inside of 
him, but could do nothing to stop them. He managed to free one 
hand and blindly flung it behind him, hearing a soft "oof" as his 
flailing hand contacted his brother’s stomach. He gasped, his head 
reeling, as a hard blow knocked him nearly unconscious. His head 
again dropped against the ground as he fought to remain coherent. 

The thrusts were coming harder and faster and he could tell his 
twin had nearly reached his climax. With a last hard stroke, he was 
filled with his brother’s seed, hearing the loud moans of ecstasy 
above him as his twin found his release. 

A sudden weight against his back as his brother collapsed on him 
shoved him to the ground and he curled up within himself, sobbing. 
His own unresolved need sent hard shudders of agony through his 
body, competing with the burning pain from his bruised opening. 
His brother gathered him into his arms, gently kissing his neck, his 
shoulders, wiping away his tears. "Why do you cry, brother? Have I 
not told you this is how it will be? Mine, remember? Mine forever. 
Mine....."

"No! No! No more!" He writhed, trying to get away from the 
suffocating grip, screaming in agony when three fingers were 
shoved into his already bleeding passage, a hand gripping his 
throbbing arousal. "No!!!" 

************************

"NO!! STOP!! NO!!!" Elrohir thrashed on the bed, trying to shove off 
his twin, who was nestled against his back, gently caressing his 
buttocks. 

"Shhhh. Relax, Elrohir....just me, love...." Elladan whispered into his 
twin’s ear, licking and gently nipping on the flesh. 

"NO!!!!" Elrohir’s arms flailed, his eyes open and unseeing and 
Elladan realized he was having another nightmare. He had been 
having them almost every night for the past week and they were 
always the same, being assaulted by the person he most thought 
he could trust. It tore at Elladan’s heart to think of his lover 
experiencing such pain night after night after night.

"Elrohir! Wake up!" He gently shook his brother, ducking a blow 
when Elrohir attempted to hit him once again. "Wake up!" Suddenly 
Elrohir’s eyes focused, staring at his brother. Elladan nearly cried at 
the pain, the confusion in those clear grey orbs and gently kissed 
his brother’s forehead. "Easy, love....it is over now. Easy...." 
He gasped when Elrohir suddenly shoved him to the other side of 
the bed. "Get away from me!" he snapped with sudden violence, 
then curled up into himself, sobbing, and Elladan was at a loss as 
to what to do. After a moment, he moved closer and laid a gentle 
hand on Elrohir’s back. His twin flinched but did not push him away 
again. 

"Was it the same?" Elladan asked softly, feeling a rush of sadness 
when his brother nodded. He started making slow, soothing circles 
on Elrohir’s back, and when his brother did not push him away 
again, pulled him into his arms, holding him gently, stroking his 
sweat-damp hair. "You know I would never hurt you in such a way, 
brother."

"Do I?" Elrohir snapped, causing his brother to flinch. "How do I?"

"Have I ever?" Elladan said soothingly. "Have I ever done anything 
that was not what you desired as well?" Elrohir said nothing. "Have 
I ever hurt you? Humiliated you? Made you feel as if you were not 
the most important thing in my life? Have I?"

"No." Elrohir said softly.

"No. And I never will, love. I could no more hurt you than cut off my 
own arm. It would pain me no less."

"But then why do I keep having these dreams?"

Elladan pulled him closer, the sadness growing in him at feeling the 
shivers of fear wracking his brother’s body. "Who can understand 
dreams? Even father would tell you that sometimes a dream is just 
a dream." He paused for a moment, then smiled. "Remember when 
I had that dream about wearing Arwen’s dress on patrol?" Elrohir 
nodded, snickering slightly. "Did that mean that I wanted to wear 
Arwen’s clothing? Or that it would ever happen? No. It was just a 
silly image that my mind conjured up. And you dreaming of me 
hurting you does not mean I want to, or that it will ever happen. 
Your mind very easily could have combined us loving each other 
with unrelated violence, say from an Orc attack." He gently kissed 
the top of Elrohir’s head. "I would never hurt you, love. Never." 
Elrohir nodded and Elladan smiled, seeing his brother’s obvious 
arousal and hoping this time Elrohir would allow him to take care of 
it. Running his hand down his brother’s chest, gently caressing his 
nipples, he frowned when his hand was pushed away. "Not right 
now, please." Elladan pulled away with a frown. 

"Alright." He sighed softly, unhappy that Elrohir had not allowed 
himself to be soothed, but understanding the reason for it.

They dressed side by side in silence, and though nothing further 
was said, it was clear the dream was still affecting them. Though he 
had tried to reassure his twin, Elladan knew he was not entirely 
convinced it could never happen. And if he was totally honest with 
himself, he was not completely sure either. If it had happened once, 
or even twice, he may have been able to shrug it off as 
coincidence, but some part of him wondered if there was some 
grain of truth to it. Would he hurt Elrohir in some way? Possibly 
through some type of mind control or drug? He decided he had to 
talk with his father. Elrond would know. Elrond knew everything.

**************************

Elrond was sitting in his office, going through the stack of scrolls on 
his desk when his oldest son entered. He was surprised; normally 
Elladan spent every free minute outside with Glorfindel and had to 
practically be dragged inside for his lessons. 

Elladan stopped just inside the door and waited until he was 
acknowledged. Elrond set down the scroll he was working on and 
motioned his son to a chair next to his desk, waiting for him to 
speak. 

"Elladan?" he finally prompted when the younger elf made no move 
to speak.

"Father?" He hesitated, not sure how to bring it up. "Dreams....do 
they always have meaning?"

Elrond frowned. Elrohir was the thoughtful one, always talking 
about thoughts and feelings and dreams. Why was Elladan coming 
to him now? "No, not always. Sometimes the mind combines 
unrelated events together."

"But what if it is a recurrent dream? Would the mind combine the 
same things together the same ways to give someone the same 
dream over and over?"

Elrond frowned, contemplating. "Unlikely. But I suppose it could be 
possible. Why do you ask?" 

Elladan played with a loose thread on his tunic, not meeting his 
father’s eyes. "Elrohir...." he said softly. "....he has been having 
dreams of....of me assaulting him, violating him...." He stopped and 
looked up at Elrond when the older elf gasped, his eyes widening. "I 
would never hurt him in such a way, Ada. He must know that." 

Elrond barely seemed to hear him, his eyes wide in fear, his face 
pale as all the blood drained from it. "Ada?"

"Tell me about these dreams, Elladan. What happens in them?" he 
demanded. 

Elladan shrugged. "He says I am holding him, that I am gentle at 
first, giving him pleasure, but then I grow rough and demanding, I 
take him before he is ready....I...." He swallowed hard. "I....I hurt 
him, I make him bleed." 

"What do you say to him in the dream?"

"I say he is mine. That he will always be mine; that I will not allow 
anyone else to ever have him. But Ada, I would never say that to 
him. I have told him he is mine, but I am his as well. We belong to 
each other. I do not, nor do I care to, possess him in such a way. 
And were he to find another he loved more than me, I would not 
stand in the way of his happiness. But these dreams....they are 
causing problems for us. He will not even let me touch him. We 
have not made love in over a week."

Elrond nodded, but his eyes were still wide and he looked almost 
frightened. He stared at his son for a long time, seemingly in a 
trance. "Ada?" Elladan prompted, causing Elrond to shake his 
head. "What does this mean?"

"I am not sure, Elladan. But I do not think it indicates a wish to harm 
him. And in time, I believe he will remember that as well. Go now, 
go get your breakfast. I will talk with him later." 

Elladan was unhappy with his father’s answer but could see the 
discussion was closed. He nodded, rising from the chair and 
leaning forward to kiss Elrond’s forehead. "Thank you, Ada." Elrond 
nodded and smiled, and Elladan turned and strode from the room. 
As soon as his son had left the room, Elrond’s smile dropped, and 
the worried, frightened look returned. 

Erestor appeared from the library where he had been finding a 
book for Elrond. "What was that all about?" he asked, setting the 
book on the desk.

"Elrohir is beginning to remember, mellonen." Elrond said softly. 
"He is beginning to remember...." 

Translations: mellonen - friend, ada - dad

TBC

Part 2
 
Elladan moved through the rest of the day in a haze, haunted by 
the look of anger and utter terror on his twin’s face as he woke from 
the nightmare, and troubled by his father’s reaction. Elrond was 
seldom so evasive, so dismissive. Elladan would have liked to 
attribute it to having caught Elrond at a bad time. Perhaps his 
thoughts were elsewhere. But a part of him refused to believe it. 

Even when his thoughts were otherwise occupied, he always had 
time for his children. Elladan could not shake the feeling his father 
was hiding something, that he knew more than he was letting on. 
He completed his exercises with Glorfindel clearly distracted but, to 
his surprise, the warrior made no recriminations toward his lack of 
effort and was strangely subdued. His usual boisterous personality 
and bawdy jokes were conspicuously absent, and several times 
Elladan caught him staring. The elder twin decided he did not want 
to eat with the others and took some meat and cheese to a quiet 
spot near one of the many waterfalls in Imladris. 

For a long time he sat there, staring into the water long after his 
meal was consumed. After how he had reacted that morning, 

Elladan was afraid to face his twin, but finally could put it off no 
longer and returned to their room, walking slowly. 

He opened the door carefully, not wanting to disturb Elrohir if he 
was resting or busy with something. But the sight that greeted him 
was the last thing he would have expected. All of the drawers in the 
room were open, and Elrohir was busily removing his clothing from 
them, laying his tunics and leggings in a neat pile on the bed. 

Elladan watched his twin for a moment before speaking. "Elrohir? 
What are you doing?" He looked up, staring at his brother for a 
moment before looking away again. 

"Moving to one of the guest rooms, Elladan." He refused to look at 
his twin, continuing to pile his clothes on the bed. Elladan moved 
closer, grasping his wrist and stopping his actions. 

"But Elrohir....we....we have never been apart. Why?"

"I just....I need some space, brother. Please....I need some time 
away from you right now." 

Elladan felt as if a sword had been plunged into his heart. Even as 
infants, they had felt their connection to each other and had cried if 
one had to be taken away. They had seldom been apart for more 
than a few hours growing up, and had continued sleeping in the 
same bed even when they had outgrown their childhood fears. 
When they reached majority, they had begun exploring each other’s 
bodies, and no one had thought it strange when they had declared 
their love, their bond to each other. 

"But Elro...."

"No...." his twin interrupted. "Please....just....just let me be," he said 
quietly, barely holding back a sob.

"Do you not love me any longer?" Elladan asked in desperation.

"I do love you, brother. I will always love you, you must know that. I 
just need some time away, some time to clear my thoughts, to think 
on this." He looked at Elladan for a moment before continuing. "I 
feel as if there is something else going on besides a simple 
nightmare. And you cannot tell me you feel no differently. I know 
how you think."

Elladan nodded mutely. "I talked to father today, explained what 
was going on, asked for his advice. He was strangely evasive and 
dismissive. It was not like him at all." 

Elrohir frowned. "No, that is not like him. You feel as if he knows 
something he is not telling us?" 

"Yes. But you know father; if he is not ready to talk, he will not."
Elrohir nodded, gathering up his clothing. Both brothers fidgeted, 
not wanting to leave it like this, but neither knowing what to say. 

"Well, I better go," Elrohir finally said, walking slowly toward the 
door. "I want to get everything arranged before bed."

Elladan nodded, fighting back tears. He still could barely believe his 
brother was doing this. "You know where to find me," he said softly, 
and Elrohir nodded.

"I know." He did not meet his brother’s eyes. "Goodnight." 

"Goodnight." With a quick nod, Elrohir strode quickly from the room 
and his twin finally allowed the tears of helplessness and anger to 
fall. He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed that now seemed 
far too large, and dropped his head into his hands, sobbing.

TBC
 
Part 3
 
"Do you really think it is a good idea to send them to Lórien right 
now, Elrond?" Erestor asked, looking over the lip of his wine glass 
at the half-elf. "They have not shared a room in close to a week, 
and have barely spoken in that time." 

Elrond gazed at the deep red wine in his glass, running his 
fingertips along the rim. "Is Elrohir still having the nightmares?"

"Yes. I heard him last night, screaming." 

Elrond flinched, wondering for the hundredth time if he had done 
the right thing. Erestor was staring at him closely, clearly able to 
see what his lord was thinking.

"You did make the right choice, Elrond. You know as well as I do 
Elrohir would have faded. You saw how close he was to already 
doing that when we found them together. He wanted to die. He had 
such hatred for his brother, such loathing for himself for being 
caught off guard that he was already letting go of life. You did what 
was required to save his life."

"But Elladan...." 

"Elladan had to forget as well, Elrond. His anger would have 
consumed him. It would have killed him." He moved closer, laying a 
hand on Elrond’s shoulder, waiting until the half-elf met his eyes. 

"You did what you had to, Elrond. To save both their lives and, no 
less important, to save their relationship. No one would fault you for 
that, least of all your sons." He took another sip of his wine. "But 
you never answered my question. Do you think this is the right time 
to send them to Lórien?" 

Elrond nodded. "Arwen has expressed a desire to return to Imladris 
for a visit. And I am hopeful Galadriel may be able to help Elrohir. I 
thought my skills would be enough, but the fact he is remembering 
indicates they are not. Clearly he needs the strengthening power of 
Nenya."

"Will they go? The few times I see them together they do not even 
speak." 

Elrond took a deep breath. "To ensure Arwen’s safety on the return 
trip, I believe I can convince them." He stood and, setting the glass 
on the table, graced Erestor with a small smile. "As always, your 
advice is treasured, counselor." 

Erestor bowed slightly from the neck. "Always a pleasure, my lord." 
Elrond nodded and, with a swish of robes, was gone.

*********************

Elrohir sat on his horse, fidgeting, while his brother readied the last 
of the supplies in his saddlebags. He had managed to avoid 
Elladan for the last week and found, surprisingly, that the distance, 
rather than being painful like he had thought it would be, was 
actually very comforting. His loathing for his brother had grown 
more and more with each nightmare, and he was at the point where 
he could not even stand to be in the same room with him. He was 
not looking forward at all to spending the entire trip to Lórien alone 
with Elladan, but his father knew just which of his heartstrings to 
pull to convince him. Though she was long since past her majority, 
Arwen was still looked upon as the baby of the family, and Elrond 
knew he would never refuse a request to escort her safely home. 
He looked at his brother and sighed. That did not mean he had to 
like it.

Shortly they were off, heading down the long road toward Lórien. In 
spite of his initial reluctance to leave, Elrohir found he was looking 
forward to the trip, to seeing his grandparents again. Spring had 
come early that year, and the day was warm, the birds singing, the 
air filled with the sweet scents of blooming flowers. He closed his 
eyes and tilted his head up toward the sky, feeling the sun’s warm 
rays on his face. Elladan tried to speak to him several times, but 
when he refused to answer, finally gave up, riding instead in a 
brooding silence. *Good riddance.* Elrohir thought to himself. *It 
seems the more I hear his voice, the more I loathe it.* Each 
nightmare he had convinced him more and more that there was 
something going on, or that something had gone on that Elrond and 
Elladan were desperately trying to hide from him. He was not 
stupid; he had heard the quickly broken off conversations when he 
entered a room, the way Glorfindel’s and Erestor’s eyes carefully 
followed him when they thought he was not watching. Something 
was most definitely going on, but he had not yet determined what.

They rode till dusk, then made a quick camp, laying their bedrolls 
out beside the fire. They had a quick meal of lembas and water, 
then sat by the fire, staring at the flames for hours. Finally, Elladan 
stood and, announcing he would take the first watch, strode into the 
trees. Elrohir shrugged and lay down beside the fire, but sleep did 
not come. He relieved his brother halfway through the night, and if 
the rustling he heard from beside the fire was any indication, his 
twin did not sleep either. 

They continued on in the same manner for several days, riding 
several horse lengths away from each other, speaking as little as 
possible. Several times Elladan tried to start a conversation, but 
when his efforts were rebuffed again and again and again, finally 
stopped, determined to reach Lórien as quickly as possible so he 
would at least have someone to talk to. Or more correctly, someone 
to listen to. He wondered if he would even remember what his 
brother’s voice sounded like, if it was not exactly like his own. 

By the fifth day, Elladan had grown tired of lembas, and when they 
stopped an hour before dusk, wanting to wait for better light to 
cross a large stream in their path, announced he was going to do 
some hunting. Elrohir had shrugged, breaking off a piece of lembas 
and sitting down close to the fire, staring into the flames. With an 
exasperated sigh, Elladan grabbed his bow and stomped off into 
the forest. 

As soon as he was sure his brother was gone, Elrohir let fall the 
tears he had held back for the last couple days. It was clear to him 
his relationship with Elladan had soured, possibly beyond the point 
of repair. And though he no longer took any pleasure in his 
brother’s presence, neither had he forgotten how much he once 
had ached to hear his name whispered softly in lust, had longed to 
feel his brother’s strong arms around him, his hot arousal pressing 
into him, driving him insane with pleasure. But he supposed he 
would never have that again. 

Though initially he had quickly dismissed the possibility his brother 
ever could have taken him against his will, now he could barely 
believe otherwise. The nightmares were coming with increasing 
frequency, and oftentimes even during the day he would catch 
glimpses of something, nearly forgotten, but not. He now felt the 
only reasonable explanation was that the nightmares were not 
nightmares at all, but were resurfacing memories. That at some 
point in the past, Elladan had violated him, and to keep him from 
fading, his father had sealed his memories of the incident. But had 
Elladan’s memories also been sealed? Or was he just that good at 
hiding them? Elrohir supposed it did not matter. Whether Elladan 
remembered or not, the fact remained that he had taken his twin, 
had violated and hurt him. Elrohir could forgive many wrongs, but 
that, that was unforgivable. He cared not what the situation was. 
That was inexcusable.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts he did not hear the barely 
audible rustling in the bushes, nor sense a presence behind him 
until, quicker than he could react, a knife was pressed to his neck, 
just under his chin. He stiffened, holding perfectly still, knowing 
from what he had been taught by his father that the blade was 
pressing on the skin just above his carotid artery. A quick slice into 
his neck and he would bleed to death in a few minutes. "Move and I 
kill you, understand?" a voice hissed into his ear and he nodded as 
much as he was able. "Hands behind your back." He quickly moved 
to comply, feeling his hands quickly and securely tied. "On your 
stomach, face into the ground; look up and I kill you." Elrohir 
swallowed hard, but obeyed. His feet were bound loosely together 
and he felt a rope being tied between his hands and feet, suddenly 
realizing his assailant must want him to walk. His feet were not tied 
tightly enough to prevent him from walking, but would restrict him to 
short, mincing steps, not allowing him to run, or even walk quickly. 
He shivered in fear as a hand stroked down his back, caressing 
and gently squeezing his buttocks. "Now, on your feet." 

Elrohir scrambled to his feet as quickly as his bonds would allow 
and turned to face his assailant. His heart dropped into his feet as 
he saw who held him prisoner. "El?"

His twin grinned, the coldest, cruelest grin Elrohir had ever seen on 
his face. "Greetings, brother. Now that we are alone, we can have 
some fun." Elrohir flinched as Elladan slid a hand down his chest, 
coming to rest on his groin. He closed his eyes, trying to fight down 
the rising panic. He had been right! He knew he should have 
trusted his instincts. It had been a memory all along, a memory that 
for whatever reason, his father had suppressed. 

With a deep sigh, his twin pulled away. "But not here. I know a 
much better place." 

"El, please...."

"Please what, dear brother?"

"Let me go. Please, do not do this again." 

"And why should I not? This is what I desire. What I deserve, as 
payment for all those times you refused me." 

Elrohir wanted to protest that until recently, he had never refused 
his brother, but the evil glint in Elladan’s eyes, the way he turned 
the blade around and around in his hands, as if itching to use it, 
convinced him it was better to keep his mouth shut. His brother 
walked in a slow circle around him, admiring him from all angles, 
before stepping up behind him and roughly shoving him in the back. 
Elrohir stumbled, nearly falling, before getting used to the short 
steps he had to take. 

They walked all through the night and half of the next day before 
reaching a large cave. Elrohir had long since stopped 
contemplating trying to escape as his brother was never more than 
a few steps away and watched him like a hawk. He could only hope 
Elladan’s guard would be let down for a bit once they reached their 
destination. He was roughly shoved into the cave and lost his 
balance, falling hard to the floor, not able to catch himself and 
hitting his head hard on the dirt floor. His head swam as he quickly 
blinked, trying to remain conscious, petrified of being unconscious 
or asleep around his suddenly mad brother. 

Elladan sat down a few steps away and quickly had a fire going. He 
watched his brother with hungry eyes, but made no move to come 
any closer. Elrohir’s shivering was continuous now as he wondered 
how long it would be until his twin would take him again, violate 
him, tear him and make him bleed. He only hoped Námo would 
take pity on him and call his faer sooner rather than later. He 
wondered vaguely what had happened to the loving, gentle Elladan 
he knew so well. Though they had their share of ups and downs, as 
any relationship did, he had always felt the bond he had with his 
brother was strong, their relationship deep and caring. Or was that 
only a facade? Was that the reason his father had blocked his 
memories and it now appeared Elladan’s as well? Had he never 
truly known his brother? Was the sadistic monster who had violated 
him the true Elladan and the gentle, loving elf he had known since 
then only a mask? A mask that was now beginning to crack as his 
memories returned? It seemed that way, and Elrohir could not 
decide who he was angrier with, his brother for treating him that 
way, or his father for wanting to keep them together so desperately 
that he would do anything to prevent a rift in their relationship. Even 
hide the sadistic nature of his elder twin. 

The day wore on, the cave darkening with night, but though he was 
exhausted, Elrohir was too terrified to sleep. Part of him told him 
that even were he to remain awake, tied up like he was, he would 
have little defense if his brother attacked anyway, but he wanted to 
at least remain aware of his surroundings. The only thing worse 
than being violated was being violated unaware. 

Finally halfway through the night, his brother stood from his side of 
the fire and approached Elrohir. The younger twin closed his eyes 
and shuddered in fear as he was pushed onto his back, a long 
dagger slicing through his tunic, cutting it off his body. His leggings 
were next, and he shivered uncontrollably as the deadly sharp knife 
cut them away from his shaft, fearful that at any moment the cut 
might go deeper. But the cuts were careful to not injure him and 
shortly he lay, naked and shivering, at the feet of his twin. Hands 
began to roam his body, gentle at first, then more demanding, 
touching, caressing, pinching, then grabbing and slapping. He 
closed his eyes, refusing to let the tears fall, refusing to let his 
brother see his weakness. 

The hands were touching him intimately now, grasping his member, 
stroking it and, to his great embarrassment and shame, bringing 
him to hardness. "Beautiful.....so so beautiful." He heard a whisper 
above him and vaguely wondered why his twin would be saying 
such things about him. They were identical after all, and Elladan 
had always expressed dissatisfaction with his own body. 

Elrohir was suddenly tossed onto his stomach, his tied hands 
wrenched behind his back, and fought down the urge to scream. 
Again! It was happening again!! *Oh father....why did you let this 
happen? Why? Why did you not tell me the truth?* He bit his lip to 
keep from crying out as he felt himself penetrated, hard and fast 
and without any lubrication or preparation. He gasped, feeling warm 
blood run down the insides of his thighs, the hot, burning pain from 
inside his torn opening. Each thrust seemed to push farther inside, 
tearing him more and more, and his mouth opened in a silent 
scream. He determined he would not make a noise. Elladan may 
be able to violate him, hurt him, perhaps even kill him, but he 
decided he would not give his brother the satisfaction of hearing a 
single word uttered from his lips. Not a scream, not a moan, not a 
plea for mercy. 

He felt a hand reach around his waist, stroking his erection in time 
to the hard thrusts into his body and clenched his eyes shut, trying 
to keep from climaxing. But his brother knew just how to touch him, 
how to give him pleasure, and he could feel his release quickly 
approaching. A few strokes later, Elladan reached his and slammed 
into his brother hard one last time, groaning loudly in ecstasy, the 
warm liquid stinging the already abused passage. A moment later, 
the hand on his shaft brought Elrohir to his climax and he shot his 
release out onto the ground of the cave. He collapsed, sobbing, to 
the cave floor, feeling the deep throbbing from within, the tears of 
shame and humiliation hot on his cheeks, feeling his brother’s 
weight on him as he too collapsed, breathing hard. 

For many minutes they lay like that, the only sound Elrohir’s soft 
sobs and his brother’s harsh breathing. Finally the elder twin moved 
off his brother and lifted him up, setting him against the cave wall. 
Elrohir flinched as his abused opening contacted the hard ground of 
the cave and flinched again as his brother gently pushing his hair 
off his tear-streaked face. His expression seemed almost gentle as 
he softly kissed Elrohir’s lips. "You see, brother?" he said, stroking 
Elrohir’s flushed face ever so gently, carefully wiping his tears 
away. "Did I not tell you that you were mine? Mine forever?" His 
hand moved higher, gently combing through the dark brown hair, 
softly smoothing out Elrohir’s tangles. "No one will keep us apart. 
No one, do you hear me?" 

Elrohir continued softly sobbing, hoping his pleas to Námo were not 
going unheeded. *Soon...soon I will be there.* He stared into his 
brother’s eyes, barely able to see the grey orbs, so like his own, 
through the haze of his tears. "Why? Why did you do this to me 
again? Why?"

"Why? Because I could. Because you are mine. You will always be 
mine, Elrohir. Always. Even in death you will be mine. Even Námo 
would not separate us. We were meant to be." 

"But El...there is no need to force me. You know I would have given 
myself to you willingly. All you would have had to do is ask." He 
tried to keep his brother talking, hoping that if he was talking, at 
least he wasn’t hurting him again.

His twin sneered at him. "Ask? Oh, dear brother, I did ask. Many 
times. I asked, I pleaded, I begged. But always you turned me 
down. Always."

Elrohir shook his head in confusion. He could not remember a time 
when he had refused his brother. Not once. But then, perhaps 
those memories had been suppressed as well. "Perhaps we can 
learn from our mistakes, El," he said softly, trying another tactic. "If 
you release me, I promise you can have me. I will be yours, you 
can have me anytime you would like. Just please do not hurt me 
again." 

His brother sneered again, his eyes growing even colder. "And 
what does a promise from you mean? About as much as one from 
father. He said he would not stand in the way of our relationship. 
But that changed, dear brother. He began forbidding me to be with 
you, forbidding me to even come near you or touch you. What right 
did he have to dictate who I love? Who died and made him a Vala?" 

He was shouting by now and Elrohir cringed, desperately searching 
his memory for any remembrance of what his twin was talking 
about, but coming up empty. If he was speaking the truth, the 
memories were still securely suppressed. But his brother’s ranting 
was making him more and more frightened. Is this how he had 
always looked at their father? Had he always hidden this loathing 
for him? Or had the memories of his hatred for his father been 
suppressed as well? "What gives him the right to dictate what his 
children can do? He has no right! No right to deny me the love of 
the one my heart has chosen. NO RIGHT!!!" He screamed, bringing 
his hand back and viciously slapping Elrohir upside the head. The 
younger twin’s head swam in a haze of pain and fear, and when his 
brother brought his hand back again, spoke in desperation.

"El, please, no! ELLADAN!!!" 

The older twin’s hand suddenly stopped, frozen in mid air as his 
eyes went wide, staring at his brother. "Elladan?" he questioned, 
clearly confused. Elrohir thought his tone may have reached his 
brother and took the opportunity to try again. 

"Elladan, please. There is no need for further violence. Let us go 
back to Imladris. Father can help us both. Please." 

"Elladan?" he questioned again, his confused stare quickly 
changing into a cold sneer. "Elladan....ah, I see." Elrohir shook his 
head, more confused than his brother had just looked. What was he 
doing? Why was he questioning his name like this? Had he 
completely lost his mind? 

"El? What is it? What is wrong?"

The elder twin grinned, lowering his hand. "You thought I was 
Elladan. That explains it. That explains everything." 

Elrohir shook his head again. "What do you mean, I thought you 
were Elladan? What are you talking about? You ARE Elladan." 

The other shook his head, baring his teeth. "You truly do not 
remember, do you? I suspected father might try to suppress your 
memories, but I had no idea he would be able to do such a good 
job of it." 

"El? What are you talking about? What is going on?" He shivered 
as his brother moved closer, laying a hand on his forehead.

"You will see. Just relax. You will see." Elrohir gasped as images 
suddenly filled his mind, laughing as he ran in a shallow stream, 
riding his horse, suckling on his mother’s breast, his father’s proud 
smile as he took his first step, practicing archery with his friends. 

The images were all out of order and he struggled to make sense of 
them. But suddenly he saw something that made him feel as if he 
had been kicked in the stomach. He was running across a field, 
racing someone, and was clearly winning. He looked behind him 
and saw not one, but two Elladan’s. But not two, he realized. 
Though they physically looked identical, their expressions were as 
different as night and day. One was laughing and encouraging him, 
clearly happy to see him pull ahead, the other was scowling, his 
grey eyes dark and stormy with hatred. Other images began to 
make their way into his mind, sparring with Glorfindel, writing 
Tengwar with Erestor, in the healing rooms with his father. And in 
every memory, he saw two identical elves, one smiling and happy, 
the one he always went to, the other angrily watching from the 
sidelines, his grey eyes flashing in anger. A name suddenly came 
into his mind. A name he had not heard in centuries. Elfaron. His 
brother. The third of three identical brothers. The third of triplets. 

TBC

Part 4

Elrohir looked up into his brother’s eyes. Now that Elfaron had 
released the memory block his father had put in place, the 
memories came rushing back to him faster than he could deal with. 
But he did not need to make sense of every image to know what 
had happened. He remembered now. He and Elladan were not 
twins. He, Elladan and Elfaron were triplets. He remembered now 
hearing his father and mother talking when he was just an elfling, 
when they thought he was asleep. His parents had wanted twin 
boys, but through some evil craft, Sauron had been able to pervert 
his mother’s body and push his evil essence into her. Instead of his 
mother conceiving the twins they had wished for, Sauron had 
poisoned her body, forced it to produce triplets instead, knowing 
Elrond would only be able to protect two sons from the evil. Though 
Elfaron was of the same flesh and blood as Elrohir and Elladan, his 
faer was tainted with Sauron’s evil. 

He remembered now. Remembered a gentle, thoughtful elfling who 
had turned more and more violent and hateful as he grew, who had 
become more and more resentful of the developing relationship 
between the two younger triplets. Remembered Elfaron secretly 
tormenting him when there was no one around to see, then blaming 
it on Elladan when he went crying to his parents. Remembered his 
brother luring him to the river one day and taking him, violating him 
as he had just done. Elrond coming upon the scene and pulling him 
off his youngest, cradling Elrohir against his chest and gently 
holding his sobbing son while Glorfindel took the eldest triplet away 
to await judgement. And yes, he remembered beginning to fade, 
even Elladan’s love not being enough to make him want to stay. 
Hearing his father and mother talk long into the night, his mother 
arguing against suppressing his memories, his father warning her 
that it was the only way to save his life. 

Elfaron had been sent to Lórien, he remembered. Elrond had 
hoped that with the assistance of Nenya, the Lady Galadriel might 
be able to drive out the darkness in his faer. But Elrohir realized 
now it had clearly not worked. He must have escaped and waited 
on the road between Lórien and Imladris, knowing it was only a 
matter of time until Elladan and Elrohir would make the journey to 
visit their grandparents and sister. And it would only be a matter of 
time until he would catch Elrohir alone and would be able to do 
what he had just done. 

Elrohir suddenly realized the meaning behind his nightmares. He 
had been right in that they were memories, but memories of Elfaron 
violating him, not Elladan like he had thought. His heart broke at 
how cruel he had been to his brother, automatically assuming he 
had been the cause of his pain, never stopping to think how his 
father would never hide a violent side from him if Elladan did indeed 
have one. Now that his memory had completely returned, he 
searched for any hint of violence in his relationship with Elladan, 
but came up empty. He found only love and respect and 
gentleness. Elladan had never hurt him, and never would hurt him. 
Elladan loved him. Elladan was his heart, his soulmate. 

His heart, which already felt as if it had broken from being violated, 
now felt as if it was being torn to shreds. Even were he to escape 
from his sadistic oldest brother, his relationship with Elladan was 
over. He could never repair the damage he had done by assuming 
it had been Elladan who hurt him. Never. He felt his faer begin to 
fade as he thought back to what he had done to Elladan, what he 
had said.

Elfaron was watching him with a smirk as his memories resurfaced. 

"Remember me now, Elrohir? Remember how you denied me? All I 
wanted was to love you, to be with you, but you rejected me. Both 
of you. You rejected me, excluded me, talked about me behind my 
back. Everyone rejected me, father, mother, Glorfindel, Erestor, 
even grandmother and grandfather hated me. Grandmother tried to 
change me, to take away who I was, but I was too strong for her."
Elrohir nodded, deciding it was probably best to avoid pointing out 
that the reason Elfaron had been rejected was because of his 
hateful, jealous, violent nature. It was not known at the time but was 
discovered after he had been sent to Lórien that he had killed 
Elladan’s horse with his bare hands; the mare still bore the marks 
on her neck where he had strangled her to death. Why she had not 
kicked him off no one knew, but the clasp from his cloak had been 
found near her feet when her body was discovered in the far 
meadow several days after he was sent away. *And now I am alone 
with him.* Elrohir fought down a shiver, deciding it was probably 
best to stay as calm as possible, hoping it would encourage Elfaron 
to stay the same way. He knew Elladan would be tracking them and 
doubted if it would be more than a few more hours until his 
twin....his brother, he corrected himself....would arrive. And he 
would know Elrohir would not just wander off without letting him 
know. Elladan would suspect foul play and would approach the 
cave cautiously, ready for a trap. 

"Yes." Elrohir finally spoke. "I remember now....Elfaron...." Elfaron 
grinned, the coldest grin Elrohir had ever seen on an elven face, 
hatred dancing in his eyes.

"If you remember me, then you remember that I do not easily give 
up when I have what I want." He stepped closer, kneeling down and 
running a hand down Elrohir’s naked chest. "And what I want is 
you." His smile dropped. "And I know what you are thinking. I may 
not have the connection that you have with him, but I know how you 
think. You are thinking Elladan is coming. That he will rescue you 
and take you back to Imladris." He nodded slowly. "I know he is 
coming. In fact, I am counting on it. Why do you think I brought you 
here? I have been waiting for this day for a long time. Since the day 
I was banished from my rightful home, from my family. Since I was 
sent to live with that witch of a grandmother." He pointed at the 
entrance of the cave, where there were several branches lying 
across the narrow opening. "Did you not wonder why I made sure 
you walked around those branches when we entered here? They 
are not just branches lying on the ground, as they appear to be." He 
slowly stroked Elrohir’s hair, causing the youngest triplet to shiver in 
fear. "I have dug an elf sized hole and placed a spear in the bottom, 
point up. When your dear brother steps on the branches, he will fall 
into the hole, spearing himself, and suddenly....no more Elladan." 

His hand again traveled lower, caressing Elrohir’s chest, pinching 
his nipple. "And then we will go away, just the two of us. To 
someplace we can be alone and I can have you as often as I wish." 
He stood and went to his bag, pulling out a long strip of cloth and 
wadding it up, stuffed it into Elrohir’s mouth, tying it in place with 
another strip. "And since I suspect he will be here soon, I cannot 
risk you warning him about the trap." He produced another long 
length of rope and jerked Elrohir’s feet up until they were touching 
his bound hands, wrapping it around several times until Elrohir 
could not move at all. He squirmed against the bonds, but they 
were tight. Finally Elfaron moved away, sitting down on the other 
side of the fire and staring into the flames, ignoring his prisoner’s 
pleading looks. 

Several hours passed while Elrohir squirmed in his bonds, trying to 
loosen them at least enough to allow some relief to his aching 
limbs. Surprisingly Elfaron ignored him, his gaze wandering 
between the fire, which he kept low, barely more than coals, and 
the entrance to the cave. Elrohir could see the trap he had spoken 
of, and though the natural entrance to the cave was nearly twenty 
feet wide, rocks and trees had been cleverly placed across the 
edges, making it appear much narrower. The existing opening was 
only a few feet wide, and the trap covered most of that. Only by 
pressing against the large rocks in the entrance could a person 
avoid falling into the trap, and Elrohir knew his brother would have 
no reason to do that. The branches lay flat across the top of the 
hole, and even knowing it was a trap, Elrohir could not see anything 
that looked like any more than just a couple branches that had 
fallen onto the ground. There would be no reason to sidestep them, 
and his heart ached at thinking about seeing Elladan dead in the 
pit, his body pierced by a spear. Now that he had finally 
remembered his brother’s undying love for him, he was going to 
lose him. Lose him forever. Elrohir closed his eyes and relaxed, no 
longer fighting the darkness he could feel pressing on his faer. If 
living meant living without Elladan, his heart and soul, the one he 
wanted to bond with, he would as soon die. 

He sighed in contentment as he felt his faer leaving his body. The 
violation had been almost enough to send him to Námo; the 
thought of losing his beloved twin....triplet....brother....had done the 
rest. He barely registered the sound of a loud crash, a shriek of 
pain, and closed his eyes, knowing his brother was dead. The trap 
had been sprung. He was vaguely aware of Elfaron getting to his 
feet and moving to the entrance of the trap, to gloat over his kill, but 
when he heard the sound of sword hitting sword, his eyes suddenly 
snapped open. He lifted his head, seeing two identical shapes 
desperately fighting just inside the entrance to the cave. His fuzzy 
mind suddenly registered what was going on. Elladan had not fallen 
into the trap after all. He had thrown something else in and had 
screamed in pain as if injured, drawing Elfaron out of the cave. He 
was not dead after all. Elrohir’s eyes widened in shock and he 
fought for all he was worth against his bonds, feeling the ropes cut 
into his wrists and make them bleed, but not caring. 

The two brothers fought madly at the entrance to the cave, their 
skills equal, neither able to gain the upper hand on the other. 
Elrohir’s desperate struggles to free himself were not working, and 
he did the only thing he could think to do. Rolling to his other side, 
the only motion he was capable of, he shoved his bound hands into 
the fire, praying the rope would burn away quicker than his flesh. It 
was all he could do to keep his hands in the fire, feeling the 
excruciating pain as his hands blistered and burned. With a sudden 
snap, the rope broke and he pulled it off his hands before reaching 
down to untie his feet, his adrenaline causing the pain from the 
burns to be pushed into a back corner of his mind, where he could 
deal with it later.

Elfaron had left his bow and arrows next to the fire, assuming his 
prisoner would not have a chance to use them, and Elrohir picked 
them up, notching an arrow to the bow and sighting in on the two 
brothers. But he did not fire. Elfaron was dressed identically to 
Elladan, and in the dim light of the cave, Elrohir could not tell them 
apart. He stared into their eyes, hoping to see the cold hatred in 
Elfaron, but both brothers had the same intense, cold battle stare. 
Whichever brother was Elladan, his expression, cold and full of 
hatred, was the same as Elfaron’s. 

With a quick motion, one of them was disarmed and taken to the 
ground, the victor kneeling on his arms, pinning him down. Elrohir’s 
hands shook as he tried to decide who was who. Would Elladan 
have won the fight? But Elfaron was the elder, and had been on his 
own for who knows how long. Would his skills have been more 
tested? But Elladan had always been stronger. Would he be able to 
defeat even a more skilled opponent? Elrohir stared into the victor’s 
eyes so hard his head began to swim, hoping to see some hint of 
Elladan’s gentle spirit. But all he saw was cold hatred, and he could 
not know if it was Elfaron’s hatred he saw, or Elladan’s anger 
turned to hatred at how his brother, his lover, had been treated. The 
victor had his sword raised high over his head, ready to plunge it 
into the loser’s chest, to finish him off once and for all, and still 
Elrohir hesitated. How could he decide? Elfaron would no doubt kill 
Elladan, but neither would Elladan hesitate to end his brother’s life. 
If Elrohir decided wrong, not only would he kill his soulmate, he 
would be the prisoner of his sadistic elder brother. 

Suddenly he shook his head, feeling a strange tickle in his mind. 
//Elrohir! Help me, brother! Please!// He shook his head again, 
recognizing the touch of his brother’s mind. He had only farspoken 
with Elladan once, and with their father’s help, but Elladan’s mind 
feel was unmistakable. Realizing he had no time to question the 
silent plea, he released the arrow into the chest of the victor, killing 
him instantly, praying to the Valar that Elladan would have only 
asked for help if he was the one pinned. 

Elrohir grabbed another arrow and aimed it at the now released 
half-elf, ready to shoot him as well if he had guessed wrong. If he 
had mistakenly killed Elladan, he would at least kill Elfaron as well 
and then allow himself to fade. If Námo took pity on them, perhaps 
he would allow them to be together again in death. 

His brother pushed the body off him and stood slowly, clearly 
exhausted from the long fight. He saw his brother aiming the arrow 
at him and instantly knew what Elrohir was thinking. "It is me, 
Elrohir," he said gently and soothingly. He saw the blood between 
his brother’s thighs, the defeated, fearful look in his eyes and 
instantly knew what had happened. Though Elfaron had not 
intended it, when he released Elrohir’s memory, Elladan’s mind was 
so locked in on his brother, using his fear as a beacon to find him, 
that the action had released his own mental block as well. He 
suddenly understood that Elrohir’s nightmares had indeed been 
memories and that he was not to blame for causing his brother any 
pain. Now he only had to convince Elrohir of that. 

Elrohir’s back was stiff, but he was shaking in fear. "How do I know 
that?" he snapped. 

//Because Elfaron cannot do this, love. Please....put the bow down, 
brother. You are safe now.//

Elrohir suddenly sagged, dropping the bow to the ground, his legs 
weakening. He dropped to his knees, his body shaking in relief and 
fear and exhaustion, his hands throbbing in agony. Elladan moved 
closer, wrapping a gentle arm around his brother’s shoulders. 

Elrohir stiffened in fear, but Elladan refused to move away. He was 
still linked with his brother and could feel his faer leaving his body. 

*NO! I will not lose him now, not after all this.* 

//Elrohir....stay with me love....please....do not go where I cannot 
follow.// Elrohir looked up, staring into his brother’s eyes, tears 
filling his eyes and spilling down his cheeks. 

//I cannot stay brother. I was violated....you know as well as I do 
that an elf cannot stay if they are violated. Mother could not stay, I 
cannot either.//

//You can choose to stay, love. Please....do not leave me. I will 
follow you to the next world if you do. I cannot bear to live without 
you.//

Elrohir shook his head sadly. //Please forgive me, brother. I know it 
was not you that hurt me before. I do love you. I never stopped. 
Goodbye, dear brother. My love....goodbye....//

TBC 

Part 5

//NO!!!!!// Elladan screamed in his mind as he felt his brother’s faer 
fleeing his body. He tried to grasp it, tried to pull it back, but it was 
like trying to hold sand; the tighter he tried the hold on, the more it 
slipped through his fingers. Suddenly he felt another presence, far 
more powerful than his own, gently grasping onto Elrohir’s faer, 
holding and supporting it, preventing him from leaving. 

//Elladan! Elladan, hear me!//

Elladan gasped, suddenly realizing why the other presence felt 
familiar. It was his father’s. //Father! He was violated, he wants to 
die, please, save him! Block his memory again; make him forget so 
he will want to stay.//

//I cannot, Elladan. His faer is too far gone for that. He would flee 
instantly if I tried. Listen to me and do exactly as I say. I will hold 
onto him, I will prevent him from traveling to Mandos’ Halls.//

//Let me help, father, please!!//

//ELLADAN!!!!// Elladan flinched at the mental shout. //There is little 
time. Do not argue with me. I will hold him; you must concentrate 
on loving him. Remind him of your love. Think of every good time 
you have had together, all the love, the joy you have shared. Do not 
think on the sad times, only the happy ones. I cannot block his 
memory again; it would do too much damage to his faer. You must 
instead remind him of why he loves you, of why he would choose to 
live. An elf can choose to live after they are violated if they feel they 
have enough to live for.// 

Elladan nodded, though he knew his father could not see him. //I 
will do as you ask, father.// He closed his eyes and felt out with his 
mind for the unique feel of Elrohir’s mind. Once he had it, he 
thought on all the happy times they had shared, swimming in the 
Bruinen, riding their horses, making love in the meadow, stealing 
pastries from the kitchen, playing practical jokes on Erestor and 
Glorfindel. Over and over he pressed those thoughts into Elrohir’s 
mind, feeling the pull toward Mandos’ Halls gradually relax, until he 
could feel Elrond slowly pulling Elrohir back into his own body. With 
a start, Elladan felt his brother jerk, as if suddenly falling, and his 
eyes opened. Though he still was clearly in pain, the hopeless, 
agonized look was gone and he even managed to smile at his 
brother.

"El?" Elladan asked softly. "Is that you?"

Elrohir nodded, reaching up a hand to caress his brother’s cheek, 
ignoring the red, blistered skin. "I....I wanted to go, brother. He....he 
hurt me so much; I wanted to go. I heard Námo calling me. His 
voice was so warm and soothing, so intoxicating. I wanted so much 
to go to him. But then I felt father, and you. I....I could not leave, 
could not leave you behind."

Elladan nodded through his tears. "I am glad. Because if you had 
gone, I would have followed you. I cannot live without you ever 
again. Please....let me be with you again." He removed his cloak 
and wrapped it around Elrohir’s naked body, then pulled his brother 
against his chest, holding him tightly, but then releasing him when 
he felt the tension in his body. 

"Brother, I....forgive me....I cannot...."

Elladan shook his head and quickly released him. "Of course not. 
You were hurt. Terribly. It will take time to recover." As he spoke, 
he pulled off his tunic and ripped it into long strips, gently 
bandaging his brother’s hands.

"I....I do not know that I ever will, Elladan," he said softly, flinching 
at the pain. "After what he did....again....I...." His voice trailed off 
and he suddenly slumped in his brother’s arms, though his eyes 
remained open, haunted. 

"You will, Elrohir. You are too strong to give up. It will take time, but 
you will. If you just keep fighting. Will you do that? For me?" Elrohir 
looked frightened. "Just promise me you will fight it. Fight the 
darkness in your faer. Drive it out; do not let it overcome you. You 
will have anything you need from me, do you hear me? Anything."

"But El....I do not know if I will ever be able to make love again. I 
heard father’s thoughts, how he cannot block my memory again. 
How can I want that again after the way I was used?"

Elladan shook his head. "I do not know, love. But I do know I will 
never desert you, never. If you are ready to make love tomorrow, or 
if you never are ready again, makes no difference to me. I love you 
for you. Not for your body, love. Not for your body." He whispered, 
gently stroking Elrohir’s cheek. "Will you stay? Stay for me?" 
Elrohir stared at him for a long time, thinking back on all the images 
his brother had sent him; all the good times they had together, all 
the love they had shared. He wanted that back, he wanted it back 
so much he could taste it. He felt his father’s presence in the back 
of his mind, still gently supporting him, giving him strength, and 
reached out, feeling a return wave of love so strong he thought his 
heart might burst. He thought on Arwen and his grandparents and 
Erestor and Glorfindel. All his friends, his comrades. It would be 
difficult to leave them, he knew. But his thoughts kept coming back 
to his brother and he knew it would be impossible to leave him. 
After a long moment, he nodded. "I will stay, brother. For you. My 
beloved twin.....triplet...." he stumbled, not used to saying the 
unfamiliar word. 

Elladan looked at the body of Elfaron, his gaze darkening, before 
looking back at the elf cradled in his lap. "No, Elrohir. Not triplet. 
Twin. As far as the world knows, Elfaron never existed. There are 
no records of his existence. As far as the world knows, we are 
twins. The twin sons of Elrond. No one need ever know." 

Elrohir nodded, flinching only a little when Elladan leaned forward 
and ever so gently kissed his lips. "Do not worry, brother. I will wait 
as long as it takes. I will be here forever."

"Forever," Elrohir repeated. "Forever." 

***********************

Epilogue: And that is how history remembers them. Not as two 
thirds of a triplet, but as brothers, as twins, as lovers, as soulmates. 
In time, Elfaron’s corrupting influence on his youngest brother 
faded, and when the brothers finally decided to sail to the west, 
after their sister and human foster brother had passed from the 
world, they did it together. For the promises they made that day 
they kept. And they were together.

Forever.

END

Author’s final notes: 
Yes, Elfaron is a correct Elvish name, meaning "elf-hunter". (El=elf, 
faron=hunter). I thought it went well with Elladan ("elf-man") and 
Elrohir ("elf-knight"). It seemed reasonable to me that if they did 
have a third brother, he likely would have had a name starting with 
"El" like Elladan and Elrohir. Many thanks to Orchyd Constyne for 
assistance with choosing a correct Elvish name. 
Námo is the more correct term for the Vala more commonly known 
as Mandos (often known by the halls where he dwells), who 
decides the fate of Elves that are killed. Mandos’ Halls are 
inhabited by Námo. Got it? Good.
Faer is the elvish word for spirit or soul. 

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I 
enjoyed bringing it to you. :-)