To Drive The Cold Winter Away By Tyellas Summary: Elladan and Elrohir know they're wrong, but at least they don't frighten the horses. Story Warnings: Slash, Incest, Graphic Sex. Rating: NC-17. Disclaimer: These characters and Middle-Earth are the copyright of the Tolkien estate and this fan fiction is not meant to infringe on that copyright in any way. Thanks to beta readers Suzana and Rhysenn. Feedback is welcome to Tyellas@hotmail.com Web Site: http://www.ansereg.com This story is part 1 of 4 in the story arc "Star-Crossed." In fall, they hunted hart and boar; come winter, they hunted the orcs. Winter made the evil creatures desperate, both more of a threat in their daring and less hardy. Coming down from the pass of Caradhras, the pair of warriors had cleared out several orc-dens already, with arrow, fire, and sword. Two might seem few for such deeds. But these were the twin sons of Elrond. They were elf-kin lean and strong, riding on wise horses that were weapons and allies themselves. And they had sworn an oath together that any orc that dared block the path to Lorien, who might be of the kin who had snared and tormented their mother, should die. Now, they were destroying a third orc camp. The ground was wet and stony, and they had not been able to trap the orcs with brushfire. They harried them with broad swords and wordless cries of anger. Whoever watched would have thought it a cruel slaughter, save for the loathing that twisted the goblins' faces further. Those that did not flee fought against inevitable defeat because they wanted to spear the hated warriors' bright eyes. As the crebain-crows flew down to await the carrion, the two elf-kin slew the wounded and stabbed each corpse one last time. Before they rode away, they cleaned their swords and swiftly checked the camp's tattered remains. Astonishing plunder had been found in the hands of the orcs at times; swords of old, jewels of name, books whose pages were half gone from foul use but that were worth saving. But they found nothing of note, and left after little time, riding fast and far. From the foothills of the mountain Caradhras, they rode over bare highlands, down into brushwood of pine and holly. Before the two riders were born, this had been a country of the High Elves, the land of Eregion. There had been more trees then; still enough remained to give good shelter. They found a hollow in the hills where they had camped before, ringed in with thick holly trees and bushes, a blessed shield from the winter wind. There was even some grazing for the horses. Elrohir spoke first, and to his horse, as he undid his gear. "Arroch, good one, strong one, our hunt is done. You may rest this night, and then we ride back to Imladris." The horse Arroch whickered and nudged his shoulder happily, and the other horse, Losbrind, tossed his mane as well. Elrohir turned to his brother. "Yes, our hunt is done, and ill done this day. If half that clan did not elude us, I am an orc myself. I told you we should have ventured fire!" "Fire with what? The carrock of their camp was bare and wet; all the brush went to their own goblin burnings. Not all my lore can kindle where there is nothing to burn. We did the best we might." Elladan's gray eyes were sharp in the blue dusk. "We'll find them there again in the spring," growled Elrohir, "and we must do our work twice." Elladan shrugged. "Of course we will. That is the best camp on that trail. I say we take them again next year, in the waning summer, when the hills will burn at our bidding." "It is ill hunting in summer. They have too much cover from the gorse and thorn." "Elrohir. I am too tired to quarrel. No fire for our camp tonight, do you think? We're still close to the pass." As his brother made a noise of agreement, Elladan took off his helm, then bent at the waist to peel his mail-shirt off over his head. Elrohir began to remove his own gear of war. They were arrayed alike, both dressed in gray, and each had braided the other's long, dark hair in one solid plait. The only way to tell them apart by looking at them was to watch their movements and how thoughts showed in their handsome faces. Elrohir pounced like a hunting hound. His twin Elladan was more cautious and slow, like a great wildcat. "One thing is certain," said Elladan, "I am not telling Father how badly that went. He will seize any excuse to keep us bound to Rivendell." Elrohir nodded. "Especially since we rode to the war in Rohan against his wishes. Perhaps we might meet him in the middle, and take more riders with us. If any are brave enough to come. Mother was the Lady of Rivendell. Men and Dwarves start wars for the honor of their kin. Why shouldn't we?" Elladan moved to a sheltered spot in the hollow and sat down, speaking clearly. "We two are young beyond the youth of our fading people. There are hardly enough warrior-hardy in Rivendell for a muster, and Lorien barely maintains its own marches. Besides, I am loth that another should die on our errand of revenge." Elrohir came and sat beside him. "You are always right," he said. Elladan placed his hand upon his twin's shoulder. "My heart agrees with you, even if my thoughts do not." "Just as when we were children." Elrohir covered the cold hand on his shoulder with his own. Looking at his twin's warm glance, and feeling the hand resting peacefully beneath his, intuition rang in him. This was the night to venture his desire, with all the wilds to guard them. Even if he failed, there was still the long ride home on which to make amends. "I still owe you an apology from our youth, you know; for the time Lindir came on us close together and chided us." "I'm surprised you remember that particular mischief," said Elladan, "considering all the times Lindir had cause to scold us." "No-one is here to chide us now. We may be as close as we please. Do you take my meaning?" He folded his hand around Elladan's, rubbing his twin's wrist sensuously with his thumb. Elladan took his hand back with a frown. "You are only hot-blooded, Elrohir." "No! It is more than that. I am not as fine-tongued as you, so I thought long before I spoke. It has come to me many times when we lifted swords, that I prayed it would not be your death." "I am glad you are so confident in me," Elladan snapped. Elrohir went on, though his voice dropped to a whisper. "And when I touched others, my thoughts turned to you, whether I would or no." "There are so many others for you," said Elladan. He turned his face away so that his twin would not see the yearning behind his harsh words. Elrohir stood up. "No! Maybe. But you do not listen to me. I -- I -- forget I spoke!" He drew in upon himself and stalked away to stand by the horses, pulling his cloak tight around him. Elladan watched him. Elrohir looked very fair; tall and sad, framed against the deepening dusk and the bright-burdened holly. The two horses did not hesitate, but came up to their friend, and he greeted them with gentle touches. The blue evening was silent around them. Elladan saw the peace and beauty before him clearly, and plumbed the depths of his own spirit. He breathed deeply and stood, having made his choice. "If our good steeds do not turn from you, perhaps it is because you seem innocent to them." Elrohir looked up at his twin's forgiving words, and bounded over to where he stood. Elladan did not meet his eyes or move away. Elrohir embraced him, trying to warm the one with the willing heart and the chill mind with his caresses. Elladan closed his eyes as his brother's hands roamed over him, and though his shoulders were rigid, he leaned towards Elrohir. The smooth planes of their faces brushed together. Elrohir turned his twin's mouth to him with a gentle hand. The two sank together into a deep kiss, drinking of the pleasure of kissing until they reeled. They did not feel the cold, or the hard ground when they sank down in their rib- cracking embrace. Elrohir was nearly wild to cram his body against Elladan's and feel their shared arousal. He flung his fur-lined cloak upon the ground beneath a great holly and urged Elladan down with him. Without preamble, he grabbed Elladan's crotch and rubbed the hardness he felt through the gray winter wool. "You, too," he said, drawing his twin's hand towards him. Instead, Elladan came forwards and lay on top of him. Elrohir was charmed to see what a tight match they were, inch for inch, able to press their hardnesses beside each other like pieces of a sundered cup. Elladan was stricken by the intensity in Elrohir's face, until his brother smiled and rolled away. "This is ever the awkward part," laughed Elrohir, as he pulled away as little of his clothing as he might, between desire and the cold night. "Oh, come now," chuckled Elladan. "You ease disrobing with some words. I fain wouldst see every inch of you; I must have at thee now; do not deny me; wait, I have a few other old chestnuts to make flour of for these moments…" "Take them down! There are my words!" Once Elrohir had his will in this, he grasped Elladan at the root. Even this was strangely like to himself. Curious after seeing his twin shudder at the same touches he himself preferred, Elrohir leaned over and used his mouth for something he thought better than speech, more delicious than song. Lordly though he was at all times, there was always a joy in this sensual act for him. To bend so to Elladan primed the well of a deep hunger in him. "Turn about, lie over here, and we shall please each other thus," said Elrohir. As soon as they lay head to feet, they slid closer along and each took the other in orally. Elrohir was doubly delighted to be caught into such a circle of pleasure. For all Elladan's discretion about whatever lovers had come his way, he was skillful, using his mouth and hands equally. Even as Elrohir reached up to add his own hands to his twin's pleasure, he jolted in unexpected, hot release, overwhelmed by the long desire made real. Elladan did not demand his own satisfaction. He turned beyond the cloak on which they lay, and coughed and spat, throwing a guilty glance at his twin as he murmured an apology. "It is no matter," said Elrohir, pulling the sad one back into his arms to lean sitting against the bole of the holly-tree. They looked at each other, faces pale against the darkness. Elrohir tucked one of his arms around Elladan's shoulders, and tried to kiss the mouth that had given him release. Elladan first shied away, thinking that such a kiss would besmirch his brother, and then his eyes lit with an idea. Out of a pocket he pulled a flask of miruvor, the cordial of Imladris, and freshened his mouth with a small sip of it. Now he came willing to another kiss. The heat of the clear metheglin-liquor gave his lips extra fire and sweetness. "Your mouth is hot to burning," said Elrohir, sending his embracing arm's hand burrowing under his brother's tunic, to stroke the top of his chest. He sent his other hand below the waist, to find that Elladan was still yearning and needful. Elladan's shoulders were still tense in his circling arm, and his eyes were closed again. So Elrohir spoke to ease his new lover's heart first, hoping to pass the wards of his inhibitions. "I am sorry now for all my other lovers, for they only made my path to you longer. Nobody else feels like you, so balanced between smooth skin and a touch of pelt." "There is one other, and that is you. There are none like us of mingled blood and twinship. We are alone in kind, save for each other." "That is why I would have no other, even though we are kin. You are so good to me, to accept this." "Think you that you stood alone in this wanting, deep-seeing one? I spoke of innocence before, as if our lust was some play from boyhood. But I have mused on this long as well, with the hot and brooding mind of a man. My thoughts are scorched with desire for you!" Elladan opened his eyes, and they were dilated dark in the shadows. "Elladan!" said his brother. The clasped elf-man melted into the transgressive embrace, and joined his hand to the hand that held him so intimately. "Yea, my dreams marred my thought. I reasoned against our laws that little could be ill about the love of one so close to me, that like should turn to like. My twin, my self made braver and warmer in you!" Elrohir kissed him gladly at that, but Elladan turned to speak more, soft and fierce. "That is only a pretty lie. It is wrong, for you are my brother." Elladan's breath steamed the cold air for moment, as he drew courage. "But since you turned to me, I am beyond heed of laws. My heart and body will never be sated with anything but our incest." Shaken, Elrohir whispered, "What did you think on for so long?" "I searched the books of lore, seeking a tale of any twain such as we who loved with any blessing. There were none. So I lost myself in visions of what your touch might be; sweetest hallow of passion, compelling curse of lust. How I ached to hold your strength and boldness in my arms! I longed to have every part of you to the full, wanted you to pin me down and take me. Yes, to have you take me hard. Elrohir, Elrohir, do not deny me. Do not leave me!" Elrohir felt his twin's arousal come near the peak as he spoke, heated by his own words. He crushed Elladan's shoulders to him with the embracing arm, and let his stroking hand paced fast. "Leave you – never. I will not let you go! I will take you, and please you, until you will have no other. I'll take you this very night, though I pain you, to show you I speak true!" Elladan turned his face into his brother's shoulder, and moaned his brother's name as he came. They stayed still until they felt the chill of the winter night again. For the first time, they wrapped both their cloaks around both their bodies together, craving the warmth of each other's closeness. "Whence from here, Elrohir?" sighed Elladan. "We go on," Elrohir said, picking a dead holly leaf out of Elladan's hair. "With everything; our oath and our love." They both fell silent for a moment, at the soft, momentous word there was no denying. "And the one will strengthen the other," agreed his twin. They kissed again. "We may be discreet in our father's house, when we have all the wilds for our pleasure on our errantry," said Elladan. "You are right yet again. At least we have a long journey yet, and being free to hold you, I do not feel the cold. I should tell Arroch we will be riding slow and easy." Elladan gave him a lambent look. "Especially if you mean to keep your promise to me." The crisp holly-leaves beneath the cloak whispered and crackled as they moved together again, even as the first stars were full-lit in the sky Story Notes: ? "Since we rode to the war in Rohan against his wishes…." Notes from "The Making of Appendix A," The Peoples of Middle Earth, ed. Christopher Tolkien, mention this, along with the description of them as "Elladan and Elrohir rode also in that battle…two great horsemen, clad in gray, unlike all the others, and the Orcs fled before them…" Third Age year 2510, battle of the Calenardhon. Story is set in Third Age year 2513, for other canon fanatics out there. ? Arroch = Noble horse. ? Losbrind = Snowfoot. ? Lindir = Elf of Rivendell. Please do not repost this story without permission. Feedback to Tyellas@hotmail.com is appreciated. Spring of Peace By Tyellas Summary: The end of the War of the Ring is a mixed blessing for Elladan and Elrohir. Story Warnings: Slash, Incest, Graphic Sex. Rating: NC-17. Disclaimer: These characters and Middle-Earth are the copyright of the Tolkien estate and this fan fiction is not meant to infringe on that copyright in any way. Thanks to beta readers Aayesha and Suzana. Feedback is welcome to Tyellas@hotmail.com Web Site: http://www.ansereg.com This story is part 2 of 4 in the story arc "Star-Crossed." After the celebration to honour the Ring-Bearers ended and they had had the pleasure of bidding good-night not to Strider but to the King Elessar, Elladan and Elrohir went to wander the camp of the Field of Cormallen. There was still much cheer around many fires after the feasting and song of the day, but the two elf-kin went to none of them. Instead, in their own company, they began to put aside the honour and burden of being the sons of Elrond the Half-elven. Away from the pavilions, Elrohir walked with a bit more swing in his step. "I love them all," he said, speaking in the elvish language, "but I've had enough of other people for tonight." He clasped his twin lightly around the wrist, for but a moment. Elladan brushed Elrohir's arm. "If this is any indication, the days to come will be full of pomp and glory, and the great Lay of Frodo of the Nine Fingers will be heard seventy-five more times. At least we will be able to sing it when we return to Imladris. Listen, there is a fine voice!" The two brothers stopped and looked to the left. The small group of the Company of the Ring was separating for the night. Elladan turned to watch and listen intently as Legolas walked away from the Company singing, alone for once, tall and graceful. Elrohir burned as if he was in battle again, to see his hidden lover looking thus at the only elf in the camp of thousands. They both listened to Legolas' song. "In Eressëa, in Elvenhome that no man can discover, Where the leaves fall not: land of my people for ever!" And so singing Legolas went away down the hill. Elladan winced. "Legolas must be the worst poet I have ever heard. Even the humblest of the halflings has a better grasp of meter!" "You should add that to your list of complaints about him," said Elrohir, crossing his arms. "What else do you count?" "Of all the vexing Elves to ride with us! He does not manage his ill-behaved horse; Arod can scarcely be held if he is not nearby. For that matter, he does not carry himself as a lord of his people should. He takes far too many risks in battle. He should braid up his hair properly, instead of letting it fly half-free. And now his verses—" "I knew it. You have an eye for him, before you even say a word to me of the secrets we share," said Elrohir. "Well, go to him. One unwed so long will not refuse you, I think. Let him take his wild wood-elf way with you!" "Elrohir! Be quieter," said Elladan, fearful that any might discern the passions the brothers had concealed. He whispered, "Why this mood of yours?" Elrohir muttered, "Exactly as I said." Elladan waited to hear what his twin added to this, but he had retreated into truculence. "You spin fancies out of the air. I find Legolas lacking in all the ways that you are surpassing," said Elladan. "I can see why you might think me drawn to him. He is almost as good at killing orcs as you are. Almost, but not your match. Unless he torments the orcs with his poems as well as his knives." Elrohir smiled grudgingly at his twin's over-smooth words. But he did not protest when Elladan said, "Let us walk in these woods ourselves; in the other direction, of course, just us alone." They left the bounds of the camp to stride along the banks of the river Anduin. Elrohir did not talk, but he picked out a path with Elladan over the moist ground. Beeches and oaks spread their boughs out over the water's edge, hung with the enamelled green leaves of early spring, fine as a jeweller's work. The ferns of Ithilien softened the forest floor. Elladan breathed in the scents of wood and water. After weeks of crowded camps, this shared solitude reminded him of the journeys when they turned to each other in the wilds. Memories stirred him. They walked until, looking back, all the camp's bonfires were shrunk to pinpoints along the river-meads. No lamp or campfire disturbed the moonlight in the vernal wood around them. Only the rustle of a sharp-eared vixen darting through the ferns and saplings, and the music of the running river, could be heard. Elrohir finally broke his soldier's stance and stretched. "Legolas sang of Eressëa, where trees and grass do not die. Do you know if there are seasons there?" he asked, as if he regretted his earlier outburst. "I hear that it is ever-spring, without winter or fading. But is it as beautiful as this forest, where all dies, and yet is renewed? Does the thought of taking ship over Sea trouble you?" said Elladan, gently. "In part. Let us not talk about that. We can go on all night." Elrohir collected himself. "There are other things. Our oath to our mother's honour is fulfilled. The wild lands will soon be cleansed of evil. We have victory and revenge beyond our hope." Elladan listened. "It will be hard, getting used to peace, after we fought for more than five hundred years. Everything will be different." Elladan nodded. Elrohir fiercely clenched Elladan's arms. "Do you still want me? Are you going to leave me?" "No, not for Legolas and not for any other. I am sorry –" "He is not why I say it. With the great victory, we are bound together no longer by the oath we swore. You may do as you please now; your path is free!" Elladan said, "If one of the Elves looked in my eyes to judge me as a lover, it would be seen that my heart was given out of my keeping." "Then why do you still shake with guilt sometimes in my arms? I can feel it take you," cried Elrohir. Elladan bit back dark thoughts, thinking to spare Elrohir by saying only, "Because, I suppose, I still feel guilty." "You see? It is hard enough for you when everyone says the sons of Elrond ride out on errantry, and thus do not marry. We have lost the shield of war that hid our trysts. Why shouldn't you seek another? Someone you could stand by in company, who you could embrace without shame?" said Elrohir. "There is no other for me. I care for you, as I hate my mind's dismay that shadows you. And that may drive you from me, in the end." Elladan looked away. Elrohir released his brother. "I should love you better, to try and heal your spirit, instead of taunting you," he said. "That is not your part, kind one. I must reach that peace myself, if it is to be found. And if it is not, I surrender a peaceful mind in ransom for my love." Even as Elladan drew up straighter, he saw Elrohir's unhappiness and forced himself to take a lighter tone. "You assume that peace means people will pay us heed. We are but a small part of the great tale. Chaos will sweep the Elves in the time to come. Once we return to Imladris, who will mind what we do? Take Legolas for an example. Normally, I would be wary of him, and what he might discern. But he is so stricken by the sea- longing that he would not notice if we grew dwarf-beards, let alone if we kissed." Elrohir laughed at that, then returned to the simplest thing his brother had said. "You say you won't leave me." "Shall I swear a new oath to that?" Elladan whispered. He reached for Elrohir. "Thrice beloved! How glad I have been in this war that we are brothers and none look askance at all my care of you. I could not have borne to hide all of my heart. The last time we embraced, for but stolen minutes, we thought we would die on the evil field of the Morannon. But we live in triumph, in a new year, and I would love." "I have not heard you speak so since the last battle," said Elrohir. "With this strange victory, do you wonder? But I am sorry. Once we left the camp for the ease of the free paths, I knew I should have no peace until you took me." Long loves are based on many things; forgiveness, patience, shared desire. Elrohir's reply was warm with all three. "That makes two of us, then. Let us find some dry ground." They walked under the trees until they came to a dell that must have mingled sun and shade in the day, for it was floored with a mix of grass and bracken-fern. After abstinence and the fear of bereavement, familiar things about each other stood out as even more beloved. Elrohir smiled as he felt his braid undone so that Elladan might run his face luxuriously through the long, dark hair. Elladan felt a pang at the click of Elrohir undoing his sword-belt. Watching each other, they undressed and put their worn gear aside. In these two tall warriors of mingled blood, the physical elegance of the elves was earthed in human-touched handsomeness. Each found the other's beauty a spur to desire, and to shame as well. Their mirrored bodies made it undeniable that they were kin. They looked at each other, silvered and darkened in the moonlight and leaf- shadows. It was a sweet and sombre moment, threaded with a sense of ritual; the first time they had stood unclad out of doors since winter came down, the first embrace of the time to come. They drew together, at first holding each other balanced, and then to kiss until they could barely breathe. The fern and sward were soft enough beneath their feet that they did not bother to spread their cloaks upon the ground when they stretched out, side close by side. They alternated deep, probing kisses with meeting each other's grey eyes, all while their bodies sought to cleave together on every plane. Elladan moved back a touch. He moved his arm down and cupped his battered sword-hand around both their hardening cocks, pressing them together lightly. Elrohir closed the circle with his own hand, and they both gasped at the unified caress. "Ah, Elrohir. I can never let go with another lover as I can with you." "That I believe. It took so long for you to lay down your all your guards with me, even after we came together," said Elrohir. "No other could have coaxed me to it," said Elladan. "No-one else can love you like I do. Let me coax you again." These two lovers and wanderers were ever prepared. Elladan carried a metal flask of oil among the gear on his belt, finer stuff than it needed to be for the care of leather and metal gear. Elrohir lingered over applying the cool, heavy liquid to each of them, oiling his own cock, stroking into sensitive niches so that he might take Elladan smoothly. With the ease of practice, they were soon locked together, Elladan lying on his back, tilted and turned so that Elrohir could take him face to face. It was too good for Elrohir to be sliding inside his lover again. Life and lust close to mastered him, and he almost came. To give himself pause, Elrohir stopped and said, "Speak to me, Elladan." Elladan gave him a fevered look. "I'll speak all you like if you start moving again. Give it to me, please!" "You want it," said Elrohir. "Yes, I have been wanton for you, feeling my body seethe. Such a strange lust it is, to yearn to be taken, to be undone by one man's hands. And I will deal the same to you later! We shall have every night for love, now that peace is come." "Sweet thoughts, but you think too much," said Elrohir, and began to move inside him again, faster. Elladan moaned and shifted, angling his hips higher. "I shall be lost if you keep doing that, fast and fleet. I'll spend all over both of us. Do you want that?" "Yes, do it, do it now!" Elladan shook his head from side to side and writhed out his release, then fell still, breathing hard. This was the moment Elrohir loved, watching his twin's face go blank with bliss, feeling his muscles loosen. Elrohir took the disarmed elf-man beneath him harder now, bearing him down, yet not wishing to pain him. Elladan made wordless gasps of assent. Elrohir was called on beyond enduring by the small sounds, and came, feeling his own heat flood back against him inside Elladan. They stayed pinned together and rapt for a long moment. "Why am I always the one besmirched after we love? Twice this time," Elladan said. "Because you like it," Elrohir whispered, and they shivered together. Elrohir withdrew, and they entwined themselves more comfortably. Both had leaves and bracken fronds in their hair and dotted against their skins. Fresh bracken and the river were waiting, if they wished to be clean. They stayed where they were. Elladan felt the sweat and other fluids cooling on his body. Had it never occurred to Elrohir that it was too late for him to leave? They had been lovers many lives of men. He felt himself marred beyond redemption: resigned to their incest, and freed to gladness by that resignation. Who else could compare to Elrohir's fierce tenderness? Who else could he trust so deeply? With Elrohir, he shared secrets and forgiveness beyond imagining. He turned his face against his twin's shoulder. Elrohir felt his brother relaxed in his arms, sharing his body's warmth and sated passion. Innocent of irony, he thanked the Valar for the blessing that Elladan seemed freer from his mind's shadow for one night, speaking such loving words to him. Did they have to take turns lamenting the strange chance of their fate? Or might this be Elladan's love in a time of peace? It would be a brief time, for their choice awaited, to take ship or take mortality. Elrohir sighed; he had grown more pensive through their ill-starred love, just as Elladan had become earthier. But he knew how to cheer himself up. "Wake up, Elladan," he said. "I am awake. Not very, but I am." "To show you there are no hard feelings, I will ask Legolas to give us a poem tomorrow. What do you say?" Elrohir asked. "Ai, no! Meter aside, what the fellow does to rhyme—" Elrohir settled back with a smile. Story Notes: ? "In Eressëa, in Elvenhome that no man can discover, Where the leaves fall not: land of my people for ever!" These lines actually are in "The Field of Cormallen," ROTK as being sung by Legolas in that scene. I consider the poem they come from the worst in the book. Is Legolas' bad poetry why he got sent on the quest? I always wondered. ? Stricken by the sea-longing = In ROTK, Legolas was struck with a great desire to leave Middle-Earth and go to Eressëa. ? In a new year = The Elves' New Year is April 6th, two days before this story takes place, April 8th of 3019. Please do not repost this story without permission. Feedback to Tyellas@hotmail.com is appreciated. Summer Storm By Tyellas Summary: One of the Wise confronts Elladan and Elrohir about their lawless passion. Story Warnings: Slash, Incest. Rating: R. No explicit sex. Disclaimer: These characters and Middle-Earth are the copyright of the Tolkien estate and this fan fiction is not meant to infringe on that copyright in any way. Thanks to beta readers Aayesha, Il Perfido, and Suzana. Feedback is welcome to Tyellas@hotmail.com Web Site: http://www.ansereg.com This story is part 3 of 4 in the story arc "Star-Crossed." At the wedding of Arwen, in some oversight of protocol, the twins Elladan and Elrohir were seated beside each other. Many eyes were drawn to them, for they were almost identical in face and form, and new kin by marriage to the King of Gondor and Arnor. Arwen's handsome brothers looked well suited for such an elevation, dressed in fine garments brought for them from Rivendell. Elrohir wore the deep blue and silver of Elrond's house, and Elladan had donned sage grey-green, embroidered with designs of birch leaves and runes. The Lord of Dol Amroth, seated across from the brothers, had become fond of them as they all journeyed and fought by Aragorn's side. "Now that your sister is wedded, surely you two fine fellows will be next to be married," he said to them, in a lull between toasts and minstrel-songs. Elrohir's eyes flicked over his brother, and then he grinned broadly. "That is a good jest, my lord! Our elven-ladies are so fair that I cannot decide. Look at all the beauties here and tell me if you could set one above another!" Laughter spread out around them, and more turned to listen. "And you, Elladan?" asked Dol Amroth. "To wed is no light thing. What, truly, is marriage? I would choose well when my choice is made," said Elladan, with an inward smile. "Give me your counsel, lord; what makes the best of marriages?" Dol Amroth had not spoken for more than a minute before he was interrupted by another, who loudly proclaimed his thought on the best of marriages. The debate span up and down the table, and had no sign of ending soon. In ten minutes, only one person at the high table besides Elladan and Elrohir remembered the question that began the heated converse. And that one looked sadly at the pair. Arwen and her twin brothers were considered the youngest lords and lady of the High Elves, though they had both human and elvish blood. They were all children of Galadriel's own daughter, Celebrían. Galadriel was the eldest of the High Elves who remained. She was done with counsel for Arwen's choice to wed a mortal man, a choice that she could approve despite its rarity among the Elves. Elrohir and Elladan were another matter. Galadriel noted that the twins often fell into the same expression when listening, or made similar gestures, even speaking together sometimes. She remembered when this had not been so. They had been so unlike one another that it had been thought that, like Elrond and Elros before them, one would choose the life of the Elves while the other would choose mortality. Neither had ever spoken of their choice, and it was clear that they would choose together, now. Galadriel hoped that it was she alone who knew the reason. Her Mirror had shown her many things, bidden and unbidden. It had been a heavy day when it was revealed to her that Elladan and Elrohir were lovers. The two together were united in a near-impenetrable leaguer, using all their warrior wiles in the constant battle to practice desire in secrecy. Now, the hour was come for her to take up her deferred duty as the eldest of their kin, to speak to the twins. And she would need to break that leaguer and talk to each alone, that she might learn their true thought and hearts. She watched them laughing and bantering at the table of celebration. Not tonight. But soon. Three evenings after the wedding brought the first darkened weather Gondor had seen for a week: clouds of rain out of the West. The guests visiting for the nuptials drew close together that night, away from the balconies where the downpour blew along in sheets. Many guests were missing, and the evening declined into informality after Aragorn and Arwen retired early. Elrohir was laughing with a few of the elves of Lorien when the elves left off their mirth and became dutiful. He looked behind him and saw the Lady Galadriel there, patient as any humble maiden. "Greetings to you, our Lady," said one of the other elves. "Greetings, grandmother," Elrohir smiled. "Greetings to all. Your pardon, but I would speak with my daughter's son. Elrohir?" Elrohir went with her, his unease at her coolness growing as they approached a courtyard, the Court of the Fountain. In the rain, the fountain's playing was beaten down, and a white sapling swayed beneath the wind and weather. A cloistered walkway encircled the courtyard, arched and roofed with stone. As Galadriel drew him to a benched niche at one corner of the covered path, Elrohir felt that this conversation would bring him as little joy as the fountain felt, hammered by the rain. "Why do you wish to speak to me so? Might we not have spoken in the hall?" Elrohir looked at her cautiously. "I have always admired your directness, Elrohir. You are truly my daughter's son, as fearless and daring as she," said Galadriel. "Is it about my mother?" he asked. "In a way. It is because of her that I speak to you now. Will you go to the West, as I do, where Celebrían waits?" Elrohir settled back into the bench with relief. "Elladan and I are still discussing this. It is not an easy choice." "Do you not hear the sea-call?" Galadriel's voice was soft; Elrohir had to lean closer to hear. "Or do you hesitate because you and Elladan are lovers as well as brothers?" Elrohir's warm expression was swept away in an instant by a soldier's grimness when faced by his foe. "How came you by this knowledge? How do you know it is true, and not a lie of malice?" "My scrying is my own," she said, eyes glinting at the change in him. "And it is as true as the fact that you sit by me now, with fear in your heart." Elrohir was aghast. Elladan had set wards of elvish lore around the two of them, to guard their secrecy against chance and misfortune, and the wards had served, it seemed. But if any might pierce such wards, it was Galadriel. At least he was alone, and might speak as seemed best to him. "It was naught of Elladan's will. Let your wrath fall upon me, for I went to him first, and persuaded him to this." "I cannot believe that Elrond would not have shared with you the laws of our people," said Galadriel. "He did. I knew that such a thing was against them," Elrohir said, very matter-of-fact. Galadriel took a deep breath, and spoke very slowly to still her rising anger at such wilfulness. "If you knew such deeds were ill, then why did you seek to do them? What in Arda was your thought? Did you work your will with force?" "No!" Elrohir cried, and Galadriel saw his hard expression fall away. "I would never hurt him! I told him – only how I …" He paused and collected himself. "I knew it was not right to turn to him. Yet it felt like I would have been turning from love itself had I not spoken to him. I have known enough of others to know that I cannot love them. I might have gone on so, living a false life. My thought was that if I asked and he refused, then my heart would crack. But I would know his answer at least, and I would be more free." Galadriel was silent, so Elrohir continued. "We have done what we have done; there is no denying it. Still, as things are, we hurt no-one but ourselves. And now our honour is in your hands." He saw that she listened, yet looked away; he turned and saw Elladan stiffly approaching along the cloister. "Well met, grandmother. A star shines on the hour of our meeting," Elladan said when he drew up to them, bowing formally. He looked at Galadriel, perplexed. In the hall, Elladan had felt a pang of tearing fear, and sought swiftly for his brother. Yet there seemed to be nothing there to cause such distress. Galadriel stood, dismayed. "Well met, Elladan son of Elrond." "She knows," Elrohir said. Elladan took a step back, and the stone carvings of the cloister had more expression than he did at that moment. "Yes," said Galadriel. "And I would speak to Elladan now, and alone." "I do not wish to leave a counsel that concerns me so closely," said Elrohir, standing beside his brother. Galadriel spoke sternly. "I will trust the truth of what you said before, Elrohir, if you let me have this wish. If Elladan cannot speak freely to me, what does that say about you?" "Then I shall go. No-one shall ever say that I lie." Elrohir bowed in turn, and walked away, looking back at Elladan until he left the courtyard. When Elrohir was out of sight, Elladan spoke, and his voice was tight and cold. "What have you said to Elrohir? Can you not let us be? Why is this any of your concern, lady?" "This matter concerns me for the sake of your mother, and myself. Do you wish to say anything to me?" "This was no fault of Elrohir's. I am certain I drew him to me. He was too pure to come to wish such an…alliance… alone." Galadriel raised an eyebrow. "This is not what Elrohir says. He claims he came to you: I believe 'persuaded' was his word for his approach." "Lady, that is also true. Yet twins such as we are not free spirits. Perhaps it was my own long thinking about this that put it into his heart. It is not a darkness on any other of our house, but a shadow of our own. There have been no others like us." "And why do you speak so certainly?" she asked, interested to see that his thoughts ran alongside her own. "Either such a thing was thought so forbidden that none of the Eldar recorded it, if it came to pass. Or, as the sin of Maeglin was credited, the way our hearts are turned is a late stroke of the Curse of Mandos. The Disposessed we shall be forever!" Elladan seemed strangely alight as he met the challenge he had awaited for so long. "You may query me all night. If there is any dark lore about the Eldar, I know it, having sought at first to vindicate our love, and then to try and escape further shadow. Why do you think we did not go with the Company of the Ring?" "I felt the draw of Sauron's ruling Ring when it came to Rivendell, borne by the halfling. And well did the tool of Sauron know what to promise me; order among Elves and Men, new laws, redemption… Elrohir and I took counsel and I shared what I had learned of this thing. It was best not to be tempted further. I said it was not my place to go, and Elrohir that he would not venture without me. While the Ring remained in Rivendell, we rode our long errand to bring tidings to you in Lorien. And we went to the war only when the Ring was beyond our reach." Galadriel remained quiet, and her thought could not be read from her face. Elladan slumped down on one of the stone benches, bewildered by her silence. "Now you know all ill of me, incest and call to evil, and how low I have been brought. Go on and scorn me! I will not deny your words." She reached out and touched both of his shoulders with the finger-tips of her white hands. With the worst said, he did not turn aside from her spirit-deep look, finding there not wrath nor disgust, but sadness and kinship undiminished. "Bring your brother," she said, softly. "I would speak to both of you." Elladan reeled up from the stone seat. "Please bring him," she repeated, and Elladan left, walking like one reprieved from being slain. Galadriel sank down, exactly where he had sat, and leaned back to the wall behind the bench. The Mirror had shown her the twins' passion, but not the peril of which Elladan had spoken. As Elrohir had sought to make Elladan blameless of their desire, so too did she perceive that Elladan tried to distance Elrohir from the lust of the Ring. The Ring gave power according to the bearers' stature. How mighty would the sons of Elrond have been, had they taken it up? If they had not loved, would they have not been tempted, or would they have not taken their saving counsel? When at last the brothers returned, Galadriel was standing again. None of them spoke for a time. The twins saw her slender and stern, her expression fuelled with unknowable emotions. For all the twins' grimness, Galadriel saw in them still the children who had been her delight, and the warriors who had brought her pride. Looking on them, hardened by whatever counsel they had taken in their brief absence, she was reminded of many Elves she had seen in the past bound to a fate or an oath, beyond any advising. And these, she sighed to herself, I must counsel in turn. "Children of my daughter," spoke Galadriel. "I have had both joy and grief of you, and yet the grief has been the greater. Long have I sorrowed on your behalf. I would not go from you in anger, kinsmen who I meet seldom. I have only one counsel for you." They waited, straight-backed and clear-eyed for all their dread. "Take ship and go over Sea. Go to the West! Do not bereave your mother three times, of all of her children. Seek the judgement of the Valar, which you cannot elude, by short road or long. For they do the will of Eru, the One." "But there are none like us among the Elves," said Elrohir. "And of the kin of Men?" Galadriel replied. "Legend says that the souls of Turin and Nienor, siblings wed unknowing of their kinship, were forgiven by the Valar. For a dark fate was brought on them by a curse; and they loved each other. All your family's fates are strange. It would seem to be the world's way of saying that there should be no more half-elven." The twins each took a step back at these troubling words. "Will you speak to others of this?" asked Elladan. "Not if there is no need," said Galadriel. Elrohir and Elladan looked at each other, not able to discern if this was promise or threat, waiting for the other to speak. At last, Elladan said, "We will bide and choose as seems well to us." "Yes," Elrohir said, with a defiant glance at Galadriel. "Shall we go?" "Is there aught else you would say to us, grandmother?" asked Elladan. She smiled at that, and shook her head. "Naimare." Galadriel watched them go, then walked out into the open courtyard. She stood long, uncaring of the rain, beside the White Tree of Gondor, the sapling of Nimloth; symbol of a noble line unfailing, of love and high things enduring beyond hope. Its leaves were sleeked down and its flowers shaken by the curtains of rain, but better that the tree should quiver in the storm that nourished it, than that it perish in drought undisturbed. Once they left the courtyard, the brothers went directly back to the house of Dol Amroth, where they abode as guests. They had no cloaks against the rain, and their fine garments were soaked to their skin. When they arrived at their suite of chambers, without speaking one locked the door, and the other tested that the small mullioned windows were closed and shuttered. A fire had been lit against the chill of the summer rain. They lay their sodden clothes out before it, placing their light shoes on the hearth. Near to naked, they sat on the bench in front of the fire, but at opposite ends, the wet clothes between them. "A drink?" said Elladan. Elrohir nodded, and his brother poured out two cups of wine, unmixed with water. Both downed the wine in swift draughts, and Elladan refilled for them. Elrohir began to drink again, then lowered his cup. He said, "We used to be better than this. There was no need for us to be besotted when we first turned to each other." Elladan put his cup down, and listened as Elrohir spoke further. "With all that has come to pass, and our kinswoman's words, I do not regret that I let you know how I loved you. Desired you. But I have tried to keep you bound to me, never speaking of the wrong we do, and soothing you when you doubted. And this I now rue." Elladan looked wondering at his brother. "Elrohir. To hear you speak so, almost I feel as if you stand beside me for the first time. My own first thought on hearing such words from you was -- to reassure, as you did for me many a time." He stood and rearranged the garments drying between them, so that he might sit by Elrohir. In the space that remained between them, the air was alive with the yearning to touch, but they held back. "What do you think of her advising us? I know you are more inclined to mortality," Elladan said. "All these fine Men pass from us, and so too will our dear sister, and our friend for long years, Aragorn," said Elrohir. "It would be an honour and a mystery revealed to join them. Yet our mother…" "Yes," said Elladan. "I had thought that there was no hope for us in the West, although I yearned to see it. Would Galadriel bid us to go hence to our destruction? I think not. She is our kinswoman." Elrohir's face was grim. "She is Galadriel. This I marvel at: that she did not tell us to cease what is between us." "She is very wise not to waste breath with what I would not heed. I did not cleave to you all these years to abandon you at the last," said Elladan, clenching a fist. Elrohir covered his twin's knotted hand with his own. "My heart says the same. You are mine. No, you are the other half of me." "And you, the riven part of me." Elladan said, then shook his head. "We sound like madmen." Elrohir looked at him anxiously. "Do not mad ones think and feel that their madness is right? It chills me. For so feels my love for you, in spite of everything." "What everything? Who do we hurt, besides ourselves, had we stayed secret?" asked Elladan. Elrohir spoke slowly. "I thought of this while you spoke with our grandmother. I have loved others less through my passion for you. You have been all to me. My friendships have diminished, and I speak less to our father and sister. Now I am reminded of our mother, whom I would grieve to be spared from judgement. And that seems deeply false, after we have fought to avenge her for so long." "You speak true." Elladan looked into the fire, thinking. "We cannot undo what we have done in the past. But we might make amends with others in the time to come, our family and our folk, Elves and Dunedaín. If we do as well as we might in all other things, we can say to the highest ones that though we might be outlawed and dishonoured, our deeds are our own, sprung from our own strangeness, and that we sought to do naught else ill." "I would stand beside you as you said that," said Elrohir. As they spoke, they had moved closer, so that they were now joined down one side and clasping one hand. Together, they leaned in to embrace, hesitantly at first, then with a passionate fury, restrained only in its quiet. The breathless silence they kept was broken briefly when they pushed the bench well out of their way, to have plenty of room on the hearth-rug before the fire. Next day, the concourse of guests came together again. Elladan and Elrohir arrived very late. Galadriel marked that their leaguer seemed closer than ever; their very stride was in rhythm. After their matched bow of courtesy to the company, they did not greet her, nor any others. Instead, they walked to join Elrond where he sat, near a window full of the brightness of the day. Galadriel could hear what one of them said to him. "Father, we would speak to you about venturing over Sea. Would there be a way that we may dwell for a time in Middle- Earth after you take the great journey, and yet still follow after? So that we might spend more years with our sister?" It was Elrohir who spoke, she noted. And Elrohir, she had seen last night, did not lie. Story Notes: ? The sin of Maeglin – In The Silmarillion, an elf named Maeglin is drawn into treachery by his incestuous desire for his cousin. Maeglin happens to be Elladan and Elrohir's great-great uncle. ? Turin and Nienor – Yet more Silmarillion incest, a human brother and sister who married each other without knowing they were brother and sister. Turin and Nienor also happen to be Elladan and Elrohir's great-great uncle and aunt. The judgement upon their souls is mentioned in footnote #17 in "The Problem of Ros" in The Peoples of Middle- Earth. "The (Valar) had mercy on their unhappy fate." Really, really obscure, sorry. ? And yet still follow after – In ROTK, Appendix A, "The Tale of Aragorn and Arwen," it is stated that the children of Elrond live with the life of the Eldar while Elrond remains in Middle-Earth, and that when he departs, they have the choice to go with him or become mortal. Please do not repost this story without permission. Feedback to Tyellas@hotmail.com is appreciated. Make the Autumn Precious By Tyellas Summary: After the death of Aragorn, between duty and destiny, Elladan and Elrohir find an hour for themselves. Story Warnings: Slash, Incest, Graphic Sex. Rating: NC-17. Disclaimer: These characters and Middle-Earth are the copyright of the Tolkien estate and this fan fiction is not meant to infringe on that copyright in any way. Thanks to beta readers Aayesha and Suzana. Feedback is welcome to Tyellas@hotmail.com Web Site: http://www.ansereg.com This story is part 4 of 4 in the story arc "Star-Crossed." It was in the autumn that the enchantment of old returned to Rivendell. Elrond and the greater part of the Elves had left, and the power of the great ring Vilya no longer warded the valley. Rivendell had subsided into being a land of Middle-Earth, even with elves still dwelling there. Yet briefly in the fall, the hills flared with red oaks and yellow beech and birch, and the air carried the dry, spicy smell of fallen leaves. It was easy to forget that all the brilliant beauty was doomed to fade. Drifts of gold and russet leaves curled along the floors of the Hall of Fire, blown in through the tall windows open between the pillars. The hall was bright in the afternoon sun. Elrohir walked through the leaves briskly, his arms full of wood from a fallen tree, going up to stoke the fire that was never supposed to go out. There were so few elves left in the final days of Rivendell that he had taken to stopping by three or four times a day to tend it. Soon, Elladan entered, carrying some scrolls cradled against his chest, and greeted Elrohir. The two had agreed to meet there at that hour to discuss the works of the day. As Elrohir tended the embers, Elladan walked the Hall of Fire slowly, looking at the walls and carved pillars. They were almost covered with war-banners, shields, swords, and every other weapon known. Elves passing through Rivendell on their way to leave Middle-Earth had placed them there. It was said there was no need for such weapons over Sea, in peaceful Eressëa. Elladan paused before the weapon-hung walls. Should he leave his sword? He decided not to. They had been through much together, he and his blade, although he had not taken it up as anything more than a proud ornament for fifty years. And, Elladan thought, he and Elrohir did not go over Sea to meet peace unbroken. They brought scrolls with news of sorrow; the last writings of their sister Arwen. One of the scrolls Elladan carried now, wrapped in white silk with black wax-seals, was for their father, Elrond. The other, heavier scroll was for their mother. Would Arwen's final words sadden their mother more than the pass her sons had come to, breaking the laws of the Elves as each other's lovers? Had their kinswoman Galadriel kept her silence? She had been cool and neutral when last they saw her. In the West, they expected to face the judgement of the Valar, the gods who were but a name to them and yet had been beheld by the eldest High Elves. There was no way of knowing what their will would be in the matter of the twin-born lovers. Elladan was calm as he thought on these things. He had attempted no scrying or forseeing in this matter. He and Elrohir had long agreed that they might endure any consequence of their willing incest, except to be parted. And there had been other things to think about. In the years since they had become the Lords of Rivendell they had been busy with much. They it was who ordered the Last Homely House, at need aiding dealings between the increasingly strange and distant Elves and mortal Men. Of late, they had taken to doing daily tasks, because not many hands were left to do them. "Kindled at last," said Elrohir, brushing his hands clean and looking with satisfaction at the fire. "Once we pack these scrolls, what tasks remain for you? My works are finished," said Elladan. "Naught except helping tend the horses at sunset, and putting on brave faces at evensong," Elrohir said. "Which will go all night, I think. Nobody will want to sleep, when we all ride out at dawn tomorrow, to go over Sea." "You mean we have some time free?" said Elladan. "What shall we do, then? It is sad to be at the very end. I have taken all my last walks, said goodbye to all our home." "Yes, I feel foolish to do it all again," said Elrohir. "Last afternoon I went about and looked at all our works here; the bridge we had widened, the new road to Mirkwood, the dwellings of Men along our western border. Did I tell you that I saw the mortal Brandir? We traded words of eternal memory and fellowship yesterday, and then I ran across him this morning, too. My, we were clumsy, saying farewell again." Elrohir looked around at the door, then out the open arched windows, where more leaves were blowing in from the sheltering trees. Nobody was nigh. Striding through the leaves on the tiled floor, he gestured to Elladan to join him before the most westward window. Very swiftly, they kissed once, standing in the spot where the elves of Rivendell had by tradition stood to plight their troth. "We have time…" said Elladan. Elrohir understood immediately what he meant. "Your room? Or mine?" Elladan was grave. "I would not go to my chamber again. It is too sad for me to look at my work-table, after the delight of having you upon it last night. Your room, if we might." He handed one of the scrolls to Elrohir, and they left not by the doors, but by one of the windows, low to the ground. They only saw one or two other Elves on the path that had once been busy, going to the building where Elrohir still had his bed- chamber. Neither of them had felt comfortable taking over Elrond's austere rooms when he had left. They had flattered Celeborn when he came to join them in Rivendell by offering him the suite. However, Elrohir had quietly had a large mirror that hung there taken to his own west-facing room. The brothers entered to find the mirror reflecting the slanting sun and the creamy linens of Elrohir's bed. Elrohir packed the scrolls into their travel-bags, carefully, among the delicate items. One last time, they read the simple message that Arwen had sent to them, beseeching them to take these messages to their parents in the West, declaring her love and sorrow. She had had the least to say to them, at the end. But they had seen her happiness through the long years, through visits to her and in biding with her and Aragorn at Lake Evendim in the North. When the last message was folded away, they sat upon the bed. The straw mattress had been crushed hard from bearing their shared weight many nights. Elladan looked up. He could see them both clearly in the mirror from the bed. "So here we are, at the very last," he sighed. "And we will seize what we can!" said Elrohir. "This hour is a gift. I had not thought that we would be free to touch one another again." Elladan said, "Of course, the question is; what can we do after last night? We left nothing undone!" They both began to laugh. "That is right. Did I not say it was a good thing we did not ride out the next day, and that I would have a day to recover from your deep use of me?" said Elrohir. "If we gain some reprieve in the West, I hear that all heals and springs fresh quickly. Something to look forward to," said Elladan, with a sly smile. He cracked the knuckles of one hand. With the haste of eagerness, they disrobed and embraced in front of the mirror. The twins knew how their bodies had become more different over time. Elrohir was more tanned by the bright sun of the Fourth Age, having spent much time that summer beating the bounds and tending horses. His hair was a shade or two less dark than it had been, with copper-tinged streaks. Elladan's limbs were a touch lighter of muscle, since he had put by the sword for works of lore. Every mark of time and faded scar on their bodies was clear in the light that flooded the room. For all these intimate differences, others still mistook one twin for the other. Elladan looked into the mirror, saving their togetherness in memory, saddened at the sight that was so dear to him. "Is it hard-hearted of me to regret that once we go over Sea, we will lose the freedom we have had more than a hundred years? You know I miss our father. But, still…" Elrohir finished the thought. "Still, it has been good to be the Lords of Rivendell in our own right, not eternally the sons of Elrond." "And to ride out without weapon or guard. Middle-Earth is grown very fair. Nonetheless, I am ready to part from it. The fading I have seen…" He lightly touched the sun-worn skin around Elrohir's eyes, and then kissed him. Elrohir folded his brother to him. "I do not think you cold to miss what we have had these past years. I fear to lose you; but I trust to mercy. You yourself spoke of reprieve moments ago, and how we might enjoy ourselves if it came to us. Let us take a taste of that now!" They knelt on the hard-tamped mattress and its crumpled linens. Following five hundred years of closeting their passion when they were in the halls of Rivendell, even after their time of greater ease, it still seemed a luxury to be able to lie together in a bed. "After last night, I owe you your pleasure first," said Elrohir. Elladan sat up, with Elrohir lying between his legs, and looked into the mirror as Elrohir began to use his mouth to rouse Elladan. He watched and felt as Elrohir first nudged and nibbled at his scrotum, scarcely touching his shaft even as it was teased into blood-filled heat. Elladan leaned back, closing his eyes and bracing himself on his arms. The first touch of Elrohir's tongue on the tip of his cock made him arch his whole body forward. Elrohir did not deny him, and took Elladan's cock in his mouth without delay. When they had first done this, so long ago, Elladan had felt like to die from mingled shame and lust. At times, especially after their kinswoman had confronted them, their passion had been a dark revel in their incest. Now their shared determination and labours had drawn them as close as might be. They were never more aware of the brilliance of existence and the fullness of love than when they touched. Elladan breathed deeply, harnessing the energy of desire that pulsed through him. When he felt his cock was close to bursting, he reached down and stopped Elrohir with a touch. "Wait. Please. I want to feel this way as long as I might. Let me bring you close, as well." They slid along the linen to exchange places, Elrohir settling where the sheets were still warm from where Elladan's body had been. It was no surprise that Elrohir's cock was already hard. Elladan slowly drew the length of it into his own mouth, savoring the taste, the first luxurious touch of its skin before it became slick from saliva. He heard Elrohir moan above him, and Elrohir's hand rested lightly on the back of his head. Elladan continued to work slowly, taking the full length of it every time. Elrohir's cock became even harder, contracting slightly. When Elladan felt Elrohir's thighs tense like stone, he pulled away and sat up, enjoying the slithering linen bedding along his own hardness. He smiled at the sight before him; the one he loved most caught at the moment most fair, flushed with arousal, grey eyes flashing, dark braid half-undone. "I wish you had never found the scroll that told you all the arts of delay for the love of the body!" said Elrohir. Elladan's smile was all contentment. "I wish I had found it long ago, instead of as we packed the final books of the library. Is it so onerous? I am glad to give some art of love back to you, who have given me so much." Elladan knelt up. They took each other's hands and breathed deeply. Only their palms were touching, and only lightly, yet both closed their eyes to better feel the hot seal of energy that bound them. After a moment, Elladan asked, "Are you with me?" "Always," said Elrohir. He knelt up to match Elladan's posture, and they kissed, pressing their bodies together, sweating slightly from arousal unfulfilled and from the sun-heated room. With deliberate art, they echoed each other's gestures; the stroke of a hand down a back, a shift of legs and hips to press their shafts side by side, a searching kiss. What one began, the other continued, fluid and unbroken, the lightest of touches burning with life. When even their breathing was in the same rhythm, Elrohir sat back and reached for Elladan. Elladan slipped his legs over and under his brother's; they sat interlocked, very close and face to face. In a gesture of elvish care, they stroked each other's cheeks. Elrohir looked into the mirror again, and then back at his twin. "Shall we?" he asked. "Now, yes," said Elladan. Very slowly, supported by leaning on their left arms, each moved his right hand down the other's neck, along the muscles of the chest, along the waist and side. Then each clasped the other's cock and began to stroke. They were so close, and at such an angle, that it almost seemed as if they might be grasping themselves. To each, his brother's touch was as knowing as if it was his own hand self-caressing, with the extra lure of the touch of another. Elladan realized that he had closed his eyes without meaning to, and opened them again, to look upon his twin; and their gazes had a searing spirit-meeting. Elrohir leaned to meet him, and Elladan moved forward into his kiss. They shifted so that they were now leaning with their left arms wrapped around each other, still working each other to the peak with their right hands. One of them gasped, "My brother. With me?" They could not remember later which one had asked, nor which one had cried out "Yes!" For they came together, in a merging, draining blaze. The two stayed supporting each other: heads bowed together, embracing with a hard and fierce grasp, their skin still hot. They remained until their pulses had slowed and their over-wrought hardness had faded. Elladan was the first to speak. "Elrohir?" "Yes, beloved." "My left leg is going numb. Can we move?" The pair untwined, and Elladan shook his leg out over the edge of the bed until the sickly prickling sensation was gone. Elrohir retrieved a ragged linen towel from the depths of the sheets, and they cleaned themselves with swift swipes. Elrohir leaned over and rummaged in the nearest bag. "An apple?" "Thank you." Elladan sat upright to bite into his apple, letting his legs cross over Elrohir, who had lain back down to eat. When Elladan was finished, he looked at Elrohir, still munching. "How can you swallow lying down?" asked Elladan. "Practice," said Elrohir, "much practice." Elladan hit his brother lightly across the arm, and the two laughed together for a moment. The silence that fell next as they looked at each other was too profound to break. Elladan lay down again and the two embraced face to face, feeling each other breathe. The room was warm enough that they were comfortable unclad. Slowly, the westering sunlight drew across the floor, becoming more rich and golden as it drew nearer to setting. Both watched the sun's rays for a time, until they could not deny the passing of time in the change of the light. "We need to rise and go," said Elrohir. "I know," Elladan said. Neither of them moved. "You may get up first," said Elladan, starting to smile again. "You are worse than when you delay your arising in winter," Elrohir chuckled, sitting up. Their rising brought them naked in front of the mirror again, and they indulged in a final embrace. Then Elladan bent over and tossed Elrohir his tunic. As they dressed, they turned to their duties once again, speaking of horses, and packing, and reassuring the elves of Rivendell before the journey tomorrow. "If they are sodden with sentiment for Middle-Earth, tell them some tales that will make them glad to turn about and go. The fall of Eregion, the siege of Rivendell, the Long Winter," said Elrohir "At least I was there for the Long Winter. If Celeborn starts hesitating again, you speak with him. He is fonder of you," said Elladan. Elrohir shook his head. "I cannot believe he is abandoning his axe in the Hall of Fire." "It is his fourth one." Speaking together, in the unending conversation they had found agreeable for hundreds of years, they left the room. The sun touched the tree-girthed horizon and the valley's brilliance began to soften in the falling dusk. That night, every elf remaining in Rivendell came to the Hall of Fire. They clustered close around the hearth against the empty space of the hall, against the absences spoken by the hanging swords. The elves told tales and sang songs through the night. Elrohir leavened the conversation with some merriment. Elladan reminded them of the dolor and sorrows of Middle-Earth, and brought out alluring lore of the isle over Sea. The two encouraged others to share their stories. The brothers sat by different people for most of the night, speaking to all there; but as the night paled to dawn, they were side by side. In that sad hour, no-one thought anything of it that they sat close enough to touch each other, a hand on an arm. Story Notes: ? This story takes place on September 21, 1541, 119 years after Aragorn became king and in the autumn of the year Aragorn died. ? In white silk with black wax-seals – In Tolkien's unused epilogue to ROTK, scrolls sent by the court of Gondor were wrapped in white silk with black seals. ? At Lake Evendim – Again in the unused epilogue, 17 years after the end of ROTK, Aragorn went North, to Lake Evendim near the Shire, and lived there for a while. Sam, who told his children that the King was coming, mentioned, "And there will be Elladan and Elrohir, who still live in Rivendell." Sam also mentions that Elves are grown elusive and difficult to talk to. The two versions of this epilogue, which focuses on Sam talking to his children and providing all kinds of useful post-ROTK information about the Fellowship, is in the book The End of the Third Age, History of Middle-Earth, ed. Christopher Tolkien. ? When Celeborn came – According to the Tale of Years appendix in ROTK, Celeborn tired of Lorien after Galadriel left and went to live in Rivendell. ? The sun-worn skin – This description of physical change is still canon. In several character descriptions of Elves (notably Cirdan at the end of ROTK and Gwindor in The Silmarillion) Tolkien expressed his idea that Elves' physical forms in fact change over time or due to duress. The idea is expressed that the very slow change, or "fading," caused by time increased after the end of the Third Age. ? Title source – Poem The Summons, J.W. Howe, quoted in part below: "I expect you in September With the glory of the year: You shall make the autumn precious, And the death of summer dear; You shall help the days that shorten With a lengthening of delight… We, communing with twin counsel, Each to other all in all." Please do not repost this story without permission. Feedback to Tyellas@hotmail.com is appreciated.