Title: Starry Sky
Author: Aduial (imladris@bellsouth.net)
Pairings: Orophin/Elrohir, hints of Elladan/Legolas
Rating: NC-17
Summary: While playing escort for the Mirkwood siblings during a journey to
Lothlorien, Elrohir becomes reacquainted with an old friend, and acknowledges
buried emotions.
Disclaimers: Don’t owe them (except for Arondil, Celeron and Nimriel), don’t
claim to owe them (except for the aforementioned three), wish I did owe them but
I’m not as brilliant as Tolkien was so I will settle for merely borrowing them
for the purpose of my story.  
Warning: Attempted rape
A/N: Beta read by Siobhan (thanks love!).  Sequel to "Soul of My Being" and
companion to "In Twilight."  Ten chapters completed.

/ / denotes thoughts. 
~~~~~~~~~~ denotes changes in scene.




Chapter 1: To the Golden Wood
Summary: The Imladrian twins agree to guide their Mirkwood friends to the forest
of their mother’s home.  For Elrohir, it’s a chance to meet an old acquaintance
he has not seen in some time.

“Elladan, Elrohir, what’s Lothlorien like?”

“Not this again, gwathul-nîn!  You’ve asked that question so many times already! 
Every day, almost every hour.  Can you not stop already?”

“But, Celeron!  I’m curious!  We’ve never been to the Golden Wood before.”  

“And, at this rate, we might never.”  Elladan shifted in his seat, flashing his
twin a mirthful grin.  It had been five months since the sons of Elrond had
returned from Mirkwood after spending a foster year there in the company of King
Thranduil and his family.  They had brought with them the Mirkwood king’s
children, who in turn would spend the next year in Imladris.  Since that time,
almost on a daily basis, Nimriel, the youngest of Thranduil’s children, and his
only daughter, had been asking the twin’s sister, Arwen, about Lothlorien.  When
the Evenstar had returned two months previous to pay the Golden Wood another
visit, the young princess had turned to the twins for answers to her questions,
much to her brothers’ dismay and slight annoyance.

“Nimriel, can we not have one breakfast…nay, one meal without you hounding the
twins about Lorien?“ Celeron, Thranduil’s second eldest son, asked, rolling his
eyes at his bouncing little sister.  He thanked the Valar Elrond and his
advisors were not present to see such impoliteness, though he knew quite well
the lord of Imladris would simply smile in bemusement and allow the siblings to
bicker without uttering a word.  “They barely have time to breathe between your
questions much less eat.  By Elbereth, I don‘t see why they aren‘t just skin and
bones by now!” 

“But I’m curious!”  Arondil, the eldest, simply shook his golden head while
smiling into the goblet of cider he raised to his lips; to his left, Thranduil’s
third son, Legolas, propped his chin onto his hands, watching as his siblings
had a verbal showdown once again.  He had always found it most entertaining when
they fought; often time, Legolas wondered if they would ever tire of debating,
though he never tired of watching them.

“You’re always curious.  All you ever do is question things and invade people‘s
privacy.  It’s a wonder Lord Elrond hasn’t thrown you out of his study with as
many times as you have wandered in there without permission, or even knocking.”

“But, it’s fascinating in the study!  He has so many scrolls and books on
everything.  Ada’s study isn’t so vast, I can’t find much in there.”

“That’s because Ada is not a lore master,” Arondil cut in gently.  Nimriel
bobbed her head in agreement.

“Exactly!  All the more reason to explore Lord Elrond’s study as much as
possible while we are here.”

“It’s not only his study you wander into, Nimriel.  You wander everywhere!  The
stables, the maids’ quarters, the soldiers’ barracks, the kitchens.  I am still
surprised people tolerate you what with how many times you’ve interrupted
things.  Or do you not recall the incident just two weeks ago when you
interrupted the preparations for the feast?”

“That is cruel, gwanur-nîn.  You act as if I’m a bother to everyone in
Imladris.”

“Maybe you are.”

“Celeron!”

“Were we not discussing Lothlorien?”  Legolas’ gently asked question brought his
two siblings to a screeching halt.  Elrohir couldn’t contain himself and burst
out laughing at the incredulous looks etched across Celeron and Nimriel’s faces
as they turned to stare at their brother.  The prince felt the corners of his
lips twitch upwards in a bemused smirk as Arondil let out a snort, and Elladan
covered a smile behind a hand.  A furious blush came across the princess’ face,
turning her emerald gaze to the hands she clasped on the table in front of her.

“Forgive me,” she whispered.  “I did not mean to banter on so.”

“You are forgiven,” Arondil said, reaching across the table and patting her hand
gently before turning to the twins as Elrohir calmed down from his fit of
hysterics.  “But, please, meldir.  Do tell us about Lorien again.  The woods
fascinate me as well, mostly the elves that reside there.”

“There is not much more to tell than what we have already relayed,” Elladan
replied, sending his lover a playful smile.  Legolas flashed him an equally
dreamy smile in return.  “We have already told you so much about our
grandmother’s realm that there is little left to say.”

“But, much yet to be seen,” Elrohir interrupted with a sudden thought.  “The
mellyrn trees are producing a new, lush green coat for the summer.  Perhaps, if
Ada approves, we may ride down and pay the Golden Wood a visit.  It has been
long since Elladan and I have visited our grandparents.  They would be overjoyed
to see us, and to meet you as few from Mirkwood have visited in recent years.”

“Wonderful idea, gwenneth!  We should ask Ada at noon meal.  I doubt he will
disapprove of the idea.”

“You mean it?”  Nimriel’s voice held a tone of excitement as she shot out of her
chair, upsetting the piece of furniture, as well as her brothers’ goblets.  The
rich cider stained the white table cloth a deep red; Arondil frowned at the
mess, but Nimriel didn‘t seem to notice.  “We can really see the Golden Wood?”

“I don’t see why not.  I’m sure Ada would not object.”

“When?!”

“Tomorrow, or the day after, as soon as Glorfindel can arrange for it.”  Almost
before Elladan was allowed to finish speaking, Nimriel dashed around the table. 
The princess forgot all manners as she hugged the twins tightly, kissing each of
them on the cheek before dashing down the corridor leading to the gardens. 
Dazed by her actions, Elladan and Elrohir barely caught the startled yelps
echoing down the halls.  It soon became apparent that Nimriel had also run into
Glorfindel and Erestor on her way out, bestowing similar  tokens of affection on
the elder elves, who likely did not know why she was so gleeful.  The princes
exchanged a few hearty laughs as they imagined the confused advisors’ faces
before getting up and dismissing themselves after finishing their meal.

~~~~~~~~~~

“You’ve been silent a long time, gwanur-nîn.”  Elrohir was stirred out of his
thoughts by the sound of his brother’s voice so close to his side.  It had been
three days since the twins left Imladris in the company of the Mirkwood siblings
for the woods of Lothlorien.  Nimriel had been chattering the entire way, firing
off even more questions about Lothlorien and the elves that lived there. 
Celeron had intercepted them all before the twins could answer, setting off
round after round of a verbal sparring match with his sister.  The others didn’t
bother to stop them as the bickering amused them and made light of their
journey.

All the while, though, Elladan had noticed his twin being awfully quiet during
the ride.  They would reach Lorien the next morning, and still Elrohir hardly
spoke a word.  The elder twin had excused himself from Legolas, whom he had
ridden beside until this point, to join his brother and seek his mind.

“Is something bothering you?” Elladan asked, genuine concern lacing his voice as
he peered into the identical face.  Elrohir shook his head, tossing strands of
raven hair into his face with the motion.

“Nothing really,” he replied.  “I was just thinking of the last few times we
were in Lorien.  We hardly pay the woods a decent visit anymore.”

“We did not stay long when we were here last.  If I recall correctly, the very
last visit was well over thirty years ago, and we only tarried there two days
before moving on.  We‘ve been so busy with our oath to hunt the Orcs that there
has been little time for rest and relaxation.”

“Aye, it has been a long time since we made a substantial visit to the wood.  Do
you miss it?”  Elrohir thought on his brother’s question a moment.  He felt as
much at home in Lorien as he did in Imladris, and now in Mirkwood.  

“Mostly I miss the company.”

“The company?”  The answer seemed to startle Elladan a touch.  He began to
wonder just what his brother meant by such a statement.  “What kind of company
are you referring to?”

“The Galadhrim, of course.  We were always fond of the border patrol.”

“Aye, that we were.”  /And you were always fond of a certain patrol guard in
particular.  Could you be thinking of that person right now, gwanur-nîn?  When
you say you miss the company, do you really mean you miss him?  I wonder what’s
really on your mind, gwenneth./

“Elladan!”  Nimriel’s insistant voice called from up ahead.  The twins lifted
their heads to find the princess sitting precariously in her saddle, facing them
from waist up while the rest of her body still faced forward.  Tilting ever so
slightly to the right, she looked as if she were about to fall off her mount any
moment.  Such a precarious position didn’t seem to bother Nimriel in the
slightest, for she didn’t seem to notice how she was seated upon her saddle. 
But, the uncomfortable looks on Arondil and Legolas’ faces relayed their worry.

“Nimriel, don’t bother Elladan with another question!” Celeron nearly ordered. 
She pouted at him before sticking out her tongue in defiance.

“You take all the fun out of everything!”  

“I best see what it is she is curious about this time before they argue again.” 
Elladan flashed his brother a smile before spurring his horse forward to clear
the short distance and downplay the next verbal onslaught.  Legolas and Arondil
joined him, just in case their two siblings might resort to some sort of
physical violence.  Left alone with his thoughts again, Elrohir went back to
reminiscing about his visits to Lorien through the years.

/It would be nice to see everyone, especially Orophin.  It’s been so long since
I’ve seen him.  I wonder if he’s changed at all./  Unconsciously, Elrohir
clutched at the mithril ring that hung about his neck through his tunic. 
/Tomorrow.  Tomorrow, I will know./

Translations:
Gwathul-nîn-My sister
Ada-Father
Gwenneth-Younger twin
Gwanur-nîn-My brother




Chapter 2: Galadhrim
Summary: While on patrol, Orophin muses quietly about the last time he saw
Elrohir and encounters the party from Imladris.

It had been a fairly quite morning in the Golden Wood.  There was nothing
particularly exciting going on; nothing dangerous was trying to sneak its way
past the Galadhrim, thank the Valar.  Though it was their duty to keep
Lothlorien safe from unwanted visitors, it could not be said that the patrols
always enjoyed their jobs.  They were more than happy to have an uneventful day
every now and then.  Such days gave them time to relax and recollect their
thoughts, though, of course, they never ceased their constant watch over their
beloved home.  If there was a skirmish, the Galadhrim would never hesitate to
take up arms and race into battle.  But, more than enjoying an uneventful day,
they looked forward to being off-duty now and again.

Orophin stretched in the early afternoon sun as he perched on a thick tree limb
high off the ground.  His days and nights of patrolling had been relatively
quiet, as this morning had been, and soon he would be having a few days off to
relax.  His youngest brother, Rumil, would be taking over for a time when he
left the patrol for his rest.  And, of course, Haldir was constantly on patrol,
whether he was supposed to be taking time off or not.  Orophin was greatly
looking forward to just relaxing and strolling through Caras Galadon for a few
days, without having to worry about the borders.  There was little trouble with
Orcs and other dark servants as of late; Elladan and Elrohir had done their job
well of making sure the passageways were safe for traveling.

Elrohir.  Orophin smiled faintly as he recalled the younger twin.  It had been
some years since Elrohir and his twin had visited Lothlorien last.  The
Galadhrim missed his friend, but understood the oath the sons of Elrond had
taken upon their mother’s departure.  Elrohir had been Orophin’s closest friend
since they were both children; even as they grew older, their friendship had
endured, and grown stronger through the years.  There were times when the patrol
guard would worry as he thought about the twin riding alone in the wilds of
Middle-earth, with no other companion, save his double.  And, each time Elrohir
had visited Lorien, even if the visits were few and far between, Orophin had
felt a sense of relief wash over him at seeing the dark-haired elf safe.

Unconsciously, one hand wandered from his bow to the front of Orophin’s tunic,
clutching the mithril ring that hung from a chain over his heart through the
gray garments.  It had been the first, and last, thing that Elrohir had given
him, nearly a hundred years ago.  The Galadhrim had kept it safe, always close
to him, as a reminder of the night they had once shared.  It was also a reminder
of the feelings he harbored for the twin, feelings he never shared, but kept
sealed in his heart.  Time and time again, Orophin would try to come up with the
appropriate words to speak of his feelings each time he saw Elrohir.  Each time,
the emotions he had worked so hard to put into coherent thought would die on his
lips.  In the end, he resigned himself and kept silent, finding solace in the
company of the bonding ring the twin had given him.  The time wasn’t right to
tell Elrohir how he felt, but the time would come one day.  He would just have
to be patient a bit longer.

The sound of horses approaching alerted Orophin, drawing him out of his thoughts
and memories.  A faint rustle of leaves to his right let him know that his
brother, Haldir, had also sensed the nearing riders.  Along with a handful of
other Galadhrim, the brothers waited, scanning the forest floor for the riders,
bows drawn and ready to fire.  When a familiar dark head appeared, followed by
another, the Galadhrim relaxed.  It had been more than thirty years since they
last visited, but the twins were no strangers to the border patrol, even if
their companions were.

“Mae govannen, Elladan, Elrohir,” Haldir called, jumping down from the trees to
nimbly land before the twins’ steeds.  “It has been long since you have paid a
decent visit to the Wood.”

“Mae govannen, Haldir,” Elladan replied, inclining his head before dismounting,
Elrohir and the Mirkwood siblings follow suit.  “I see we have not been
forgotten, at least among the Galadhrim.”

“It is hard to forget a pair such as yourself and Elrohir, meldir.  But, who are
your companions?  Judging by their statures and clothing, I shall venture to say
they are from the Greenwood.”

“That they are,” Elrohir replied.  “Might I introduce the children of King
Thranduil of Mirkwood.  Tis Arondil, and his brothers, Celeron and Legolas.  And
the fair princess, Nimriel.  They are fostering a year with us, and frequently
expressed wishes to visit Lorien.”

“Tis a pleasure,” Arondil greeted, bowing, his siblings following his lead.

“Welcome to Lothlorien, children of Thranduil,” Haldir greeted, bowing to them
in respect.  “I am the March Warden, Haldir.  This is my brother, Orophin.”  He
stepped forward, bowing as Haldir introduced him.  For a moment, Orophin caught
Elrohir’s eye.  They stared at each other in silence as Haldir finished the
introductions; their locked gaze broke when Haldir addressed the party again. 
“Please, follow me.  I am sure the Lord and Lady have already known about your
arrival.  They will be eager to meet our kin from the North.”

“Aye, and we ourselves are eager to see the fair Lord and Lady of this land,”
Arondil replied.  With another bow, Haldir turned on his heels, beginning to
lead the group through the forest.  Elrohir lingered behind a moment before
following his brother and friends.  As he passed, his hand brushed against
Orophin’s, their fingers embracing for a mere moment.  To others, it would have
been a casual brushing, perhaps accidental.  For Orophin, the touch spoke words
they had no time to express at the moment.  Later, they would meet, and become
reacquainted.

~~~~~~~~~~

Though he loved his grandparents dearly, and was fond of his companions from
Mirkwood, Elrohir felt the usual introductions between the Lord and Lady of
Lothlorien and the children of Thranduil were taking far longer than they needed
to.  Or, so it seemed to Elrohir.  He was tempted just to turn and leave to
explore the realm he had missed much in recent years.  But, the glances
Galadriel frequently turned his way forced the twin to still his climbing
anxiety, and keep still.

“It is good to see our kin from the North,” Celeborn said as he greeted Arondil. 
“We seldom have visits from the elves of Mirkwood these days.  It is a pity
visits from your people are not more frequent, but it is refreshing to hear any
news elves of the Greenwood may bring.  How fairs your father’s land in these
times?”

“Well, and yet still very much encompassed by the dark,” the first prince
replied.  “Skirmishes between our kinsmen and servants of the dark break out now
and again.  Our attentions are more focused on our own lands than those of
others.  Still, our father works hard to dispel fear and keep peace in the
land.”

“Lord Thranduil is a wise leader, and a caring one,” the Lady Galadriel said in
a sagely tone.  “He loves his people, doing what he believes to be right and
just.  There are times where he may seem rather harsh, but that is only a façade
to hide Thranduil’s more gentler side.  He has raised his children to be much
like himself, I am glad to notice.”  The four princes and princess bowed deeply
to her for her compliment.  

“If I may say so, my lady,” Legolas began, gazing around him at the wonder of
Caras Galadon, “the Golden Wood is more beautiful than Elladan and Elrohir
describe it to be.  And, they have often spoken of this land, the birthplace of
their mother.”

“That has been often indeed,” Celeron muttered softly, throwing his sister a
pointed look.  Galadriel’s musical laughter filled the air as Nimriel began to
blush in embarrassment.

“I thank you for your words, Prince Legolas.  I dearly hope you enjoy your stay
here.  For the moment, I suppose you would all like a bit of rest after your
journey.  I shall have servants show you to talans you may use during your
stay.”

“Thank you, grandmother,” Elladan said, bowing to his parent’s parent before
servants came to lead the younger elves to a place of rest.  Elrohir made to
follow them, but stopped when he felt a gentle hand rest upon his shoulder.  He
turned to find Galadriel’s kind eyes smiling at him.  The Lady then began to
lead the twin in a different direction.

“It has been long since you and your brother have visited the Wood,” she said as
they strolled the grounds together.  “I was beginning to think I might never see
the both of you again.  Is your father well?”

“Very well, grandmother,” the younger twin replied.  “He expressed feelings of
visiting Lorien someday soon himself before we left.  How is Arwen?”

“Well.  She will be pleased to know you have arrived safely.”  Elrohir nodded. 
Though it had only been a few months since Arwen had left for the Golden Wood,
and there were times when the twins would go a full year without seeing her,
Elrohir still missed his sister.  “But,” Galadriel’s voice spoke again, drawing
him back to the present, “your sister is not what--or should I say, who--is
occupying your mind at the moment, gwenneth.”

“What do you mean?”  Try as he might, Elrohir found it difficult to contain the
blush that threatened to color his cheeks.  Galadriel smiled, and pretended not
to take notice.

“There is another resident of these woods whom you think about.”

“Grandmother, I…”

“You know exactly what I am saying, Elrohir.  Do not try to hide the truth from
me.  I know you very well, in case you have forgotten.”  He sighed; he should
have known better than to try to hide things from her.  Galadriel was much
older, and far wiser, than many of the elves of Middle-earth.  Of course she
would have known about Orophin and himself; perhaps she had always known, even
before they themselves realized.

“Forgive me, grandmother,” he said softly.  “I did not intend to hide anything
from you.”

“And, please, do not try.”  He nodded once before she spoke again.  “What do you
feel towards him, Elrohir?”

“I…I am not entirely sure.”  It was the truth.  Elrohir knew he felt something
that went beyond mere friendship for Orophin, but as to what that feeling was he
was not entirely sure of at the moment.  He wanted to bond to the Galadhrim;
but, was it out of love, or something else?

“Is it not love?” Galadriel asked as if reading his thoughts.  “Do you not feel
for Orophin what your brother feels for Prince Legolas?”

“It is difficult to say.  We have been friends for so long, grandmother, that I
am afraid to test that friendship.  If I do, and the test fails, I could well
lose the closest friend I have.”

“Indeed, it is a risk.”  Galadriel ceased walking; her white robes rustled
faintly as she turned to face her grandson.  Slender, pale hands cupped his face
as she stared deep into his gray eyes.  Her blue gaze was piercing, but Elrohir
dare not flinch.  “But, pen-neth, it is a risk we all take when we fall in love. 
It is a risk I dared, as did your father and brother.  You must ask yourself if
you are willing to take the same risk as we did, and if you can face the
consequences.  If you feel that he returns your love, even just a fraction of
what you feel, then I advise you to voice what your heart desires.”

“I do not know if I can.”

“Then, you must discover if you can.”  She sighed, releasing him.  A faint smile
illuminated her beautiful face.  “Please consider my words, gwenneth.”

“I will, grandmother.”

“Now, go and rest.  There will be time for more discussion later.”  With a deep
bow, he turned and left her, heading back the way he came to join his brother
and companions.  

While he walked, Elrohir heard her words echoing within his mind.  Galadriel had
spoken of the fears that laid within his heart, the fear of rejection from one
of the people he cared about the most.  He had warred with himself on the matter
of whether he loved Orophin or not, and, if he did, whether he should speak of
the matter, or love in silence.  Elrohir found the matter rather confusing at
times; he often wondered where Elladan had gotten the courage to tell Legolas
about his love for the prince, and if his brother had ever felt as torn as he
did now.

/She is right,/ he thought to himself.  /I will have to speak of this matter
soon.  But, not now.  Not yet.  I am not ready.  I fear I never will be./ 
Elrohir sighed quietly to himself, noting the falling of the sun.  Arien was
descending, casting long shadows across the ground.  He had forgotten the
passage of time during his talk with Galadriel; servants would be calling for
the evening meal soon.  He decided to politely pass the meal when asked to
attend; there was too much going on in Elrohir’s mind at the moment.

He had almost reached the talan Elladan and Thranduil’s children had been
escorted to when a warm arm snaked its way about Elrohir’s waist from behind. 
Startled, the younger twin’s survival instincts took hold for a moment; he
struggled as he felt himself being pulled back, his shoulders pressing against
another’s chest.  He relaxed at the kiss planted in his hair, and the familiar
voice whispering into his ear.

“I have missed you, mellon-nîn.”

Translation:
Mae govannen, Elladan, Elrohir-Well met, Elladan, Elrohir
Meldir-Friend
Gwenneth-Younger twin
Pen-neth-Little one
Mellon-nîn-My friend



Chapter 3: Clear Skies and Starry Nights
Summary: Orophin and Elrohir spend the night reminiscing about old times and
getting reacquainted (slash).

“You mustn’t startle me so.”

“Forgive me.  But, we didn’t have time to speak earlier.  And, I’ve just been
released from the patrol and wanted to see you, lirimaer.”  Smiling at the
endearment, Elrohir turned within the arms encircling him, his gray gaze meeting
a blue one.  A kiss was planted on his brow, the faint scent of sandalwood
whiffed around him as Orophin brushed closer.  Elrohir felt himself drowning in
the warmth surrounding him, wondering again if this was love or some mockery
being played at his expense.

“It has been long since we last met,” Orophin said.  “Far too long.”

“Aye, it has.  I have been busy.”

“So I have heard.  It is rare that you visit the Wood anymore.  But, I am glad
to see you now, mellon-nîn.”

“It is good to see you as well.”

“Come,” Orophin said, taking hold of Elrohir’s hand gently in his own.  “There
is much for us to talk about.”  The twin nodded, following his friend as they
began strolling through the mellyrn trees.  They walked in silence for some time
before the Galadhrim spoke again.  “How fairs your father and Imladris?  I have
not had a chance to visit the valley as of late.”

“Well.  Though, I believe, Glorfindel thinks Ada works too hard, and tries to
find ways to distract him.  I find I have to agree.  Ada can spend hours locked
up in his study.  He becomes so involved in what he’s doing that he forgets to
eat sometimes.”

“Then, it is good that he has Lord Glorfindel to watch over him.  Though, I
dearly hope you have not inherited that same stubbornness.”  Elrohir laughed at
the thought.

“Nay, I believe Elladan received most of that.  When my brother fixes his eye on
something, he’ll do just about anything to get what he wants.  There is very
little that can get in his way--much less stop him--when he is in such a wanting
state.”

“Are you referring to the Prince Legolas perhaps?”  Elrohir smiled, turning to
the guardian.

“Meldir, you never cease to amaze me.”  He received a snort in reply, to which
Elrohir frowned playfully.  “I am being serious.  How else would you know of my
brother and the prince?  Did my sister speak on the matter?”

“Hardly.  Ask any Galadhrim that saw--or will see them--and they will give you
the same assessment.”

“Are they that obvious?”

“To our keen observation, I suppose they are.”  The twin thought on that last
statement for a moment.  It was true that the Galadhrim were rather perceptive
of the things that occurred around them.  Their senses were even acute to events
that did not concern them in the least.  Such fine-tuned sight and hearing made
them who they were, the best elven border patrols in the three havens.  But, it
made Elrohir wonder if they were also able to deduce what passed between himself
and Orophin.  Or, more importantly, his inner struggle.

“Elrohir?  Elrohir?”  When he received no reply, Orophin laid a gentle hand upon
the twin’s shoulder.  Elrohir seemed to revive at the touch.

“I’m sorry.”  He shook himself back to the moment.  “Did you say something?” 
Orophin stared at his friend.  Something was bothering Elrohir, he could sense
it.  But, he decided not to press the issue further.  Elrohir would tell him in
time, he need not rush things.

“Nay, I said nothing.”

“I must have been drifting off.  But, tell me, how have things been on the
borders?”

“There is little to do nowadays.  The borders are quiet by day, and by night. 
It is all thanks to you and Elladan.”  Elrohir shook his head, tossing dark
chocolate locks about his face.

“Do not give us too much credit.  We only do what we can.”

“You do a great deal.  Many are grateful that they can use the Redhorn Pass with
some measure of safety in these days.  It is gruesome work, the kind that many
would not under go for an extended period of time.  And, yet, you an Elladan
guard the pass, and others.  Many praise the both of you for your effort.  But,
sometimes, I think, you do far more than you should.”

“I suppose.  It is all very tiring work.  We spend most of the year riding and
hunting, in the wild far more than any elf could imagine.  We winter in
Imladris, and spend every other summer in Mirkwood.  I see my father and sister
little, my grandparents even less.  For now, I wish to relax and not think about
Orcs, or anything of the like, for some time.”

“Come, let me see if I cannot remedy that for you.”  The twin smiled, following
the guardian back to Orophin’s talan.  Deftly, they climbed the rope ladder
before bringing it up after them.  Slipping into the other’s embrace, they
kissed, long and deeply, pressing their bodies as close as possible.  Orophin
nibbled lightly at Elrohir’s lower lip, delighting at the moan that escaped,
before pulling away to explore the curves and plateaus of the pale face before
him.  He slipped to an ear, and gently sucked at a pointed tip, sending shivers
down Elrohir’s spine.

He had missed this.  Only once had they joined, solong ago, but Elrohir found
that once had not been frequent enough, even if they had had little time to
spend together.  He arched his head back, pressing his exposed neck more fully
onto the lips that lingered there.  The warm summer air breezed across the skin
of his chest as the clasps of his tunic were undone, allowing the garment to
fall open.  Blindly, Elrohir reached for Orophin’s own garments, tugging at the
gray cloak and tunic until they gave way and joined his own upon the talan
floor.  Feeling himself being turned, he backpedaled to the bed, following
Orophin’s guide.  His knees buckled when they hit the edge of the frame,
propelling both elves onto the straw mattress in a tangle of limbs and peals of
giggles.

As the laughter died down, the heat within their bodies began to rise again. 
Eyes darkened with lust and wanting, hands skimmed over warm, pale skin,
remembering sensitive spots not touched in a century.  Lips collided as hands
undid lacings, discarding two pairs of leggings.  For a moment the pair lay
quiet, eyes closed, as they relished the feel of the other’s nearness and
warmth.  Lust crept in again, as did impatience.  It had been far too long.

Elrohir gasped as slender fingers curled around his erection, the pads dancing
around the base of the column in fluttering touches.  Orophin’s lips were
fastened to his neck, sucking lightly at the throbbing pulse they found; his
other hand smoothed over planes of silken skin stretched over the taut muscles
of thighs and hips.  He kept up a steady motion; one suck with each pulse, one
gentle stroke with each quiver of muscle, one brush of the thumb over a heated
shaft with each moan.  It was slow and steady, but arousing all the same.  

Being thrice touched with each slight motion of his body or sound that he made
almost threw Elrohir over the edge, but he checked himself.  He wanted it slow,
wanted to take his time, wanted to be touched.  His eyes still closed, Elrohir
reached for the stand next to the bed, his hand almost instantly grasping a
small phial that rested there.  It mildly surprised him that, in all those
years, not a thing had changed in Orophin’s talan, not even where the small
glass of oil had been placed.  With a twist, he removed the stopper, slick
liquid spilling over his hands.  Reaching for the hand sliding up his hip,
Elrohir pressed their palms together, slicking the other’s hand, before moving
elsewhere.  He grinned at the gasp sounding near his ear as his fingers wrapped
about the Galadhrim’s erection.

Raising his head, Orophin gazed into Elrohir’s eyes.  As the two stared
longingly at the other, his hand slipped around the twin’s hip, finding the
opening and beginning the preparation.  Their eyes remained locked as they
worked to ready the other for their joining.  Feeling their work done, they
kissed again, the rings hanging about their necks chiming as they collided
against one another.  Slowly, Orophin sheathed himself into the shearing heat,
unable to quiet the moan he issued within the kiss.  Elrohir quieted his own
voice as he pulled the guardian forward, silent asking him to move.

Together they set up an unbroken rhythm.  At each of Orophin’s thrusts, Elrohir
would arch up to meet him.  Sweat gathered, creating a light sheen on their
skins.  Everything ceased to exist around them as time stood still.  As their
climax neared, Elrohir reached out, burying his hands among the silvery locks of
the Galadhrim, pulling them together into another desire-filled kiss.  Their
tongues danced in rhythm to their bodies, joining and entwining themselves about
one another.  With one angled thrust, Orophin struck Elrohir’s sweet spot,
causing the twin to climax; his own followed a moment later at the tightening of
the muscles encircling his erection.

He sank down into a warm, open embrace.  Smiling in a sleepy manner, Orophin
kissed column of flesh exposed to him before burying his face into chocolate
locks.  A soft kiss was bestowed upon his head as Elrohir pulled him closer.  As
they drifted off into a content sleep, enfolded with the other’s embrace, the
stars shone down on them from above, reflecting off the mithril rings lying
between them, the chains entwined.

~~~~~~~~~~

It was late in the night when Elrohir awoke again.  He blinked to clear the
sleep from his eyes before moving to sit up.  Looking around, he noted that he
was alone in bed, his clothes neatly folded and resting on a chair nearby.  He
felt too comfortable to move; instead, he took to sitting in the bed and staring
at the stars above him, arms wrapped around his knees.  He had not been staring
long when a sound caused him to turn towards the entrance of the talan.

Up through the entrance came Orophin, bearing a tray precariously balanced on
one arm as he climbed the rope ladder.  Setting the tray down, he climbed the
rest of the way up before drawing the ladder after him.  Noticing the twin
awake, he smiled, retrieving his tray, plus two glasses and a bottle from a
nearby table.  Elrohir returned the smile, shifting a little closer towards the
Galadhrim.

“And, where have you been off to?” Elrohir asked as Orophin sat next to him on
the bed.

“Seeing as how I kept you…occupied during the evening meal, I thought it fitting
for me to bring you something to eat..”  With that, the Galadhrim set the tray,
filled with fruits, cheeses and some wafers of lembas, upon Elrohir’s lap. 
Setting the glasses down on the stand, he opened the bottle with a faint pop,
and proceeded to pour a glass of cider for the both of them as Elrohir took a
bite of cheese.

“Hm…I think you’ll do,” Elrohir said in a teasing voice as he took the glass
offered to him.  Orophin arched a delicate eyebrow as he took a small sip of his
own cup.

“I’ll do?”  A nod came in reply.  “For what?”

“As a go-fer.”  He giggled at the stunned look Orophin gave him before kissing a
pale cheek.  “I’m only teasing, a’maelamin.”

“I should hope so.”  He scowled, bringing about more laughter from the twin. 
But, Orophin couldn’t help the smile that crept across his face at Elrohir’s
endearment.  He kissed the dark crown, brushing a stray strand of raven hair
behind a pointed ear before moving closer.  Leaning against one another, they
took their share of the food before spending the rest of the night in a content
sleep beneath the stars and in each other’s arms.

Translations:
Lirimaer-Lovely one
Mellon-nîn-My friend
Meldir-Friend
A’maelamin-My beloved
Go-fer-Ok, so it’s not an elvish term.  A go-fer is someone you ask to run
errands or go to pick up things.  ‘Go for this, go for that’, get it?



Chapter 4: On the Borders
Summary: Feeling a little idle, Elrohir accompanies Rumil on what turns out to
be anything but a normal patrol.

That was it; he had had enough.  Nimriel’s cheeriness was just not going to work
for him today.  His mood was too foul for even the bright and active princess of
Mirkwood to clear the cloud lingering over him.  Elrohir was idle, and in need
of something to do.  Escorting Nimriel around Lorien was not the task he had in
mind to keep busy.  He needed something to do, some excuse to get away.  And, he
needed it fast.

It did not help that Arondil and Celeron were spending the day with Celeborn to
survey the lands, nor did it help that Elladan and Legolas had gone off to the
Valar only know where.  That left Elrohir stuck with Nimriel for the entire day. 
Unless some suitable excuse to leave the princess to her own devices presented
itself before him, he had no other choice.  Saying he was going to take a walk
with Orophin wouldn’t help; the Galadhrim had gone off with Haldir to train some
new apprentices.  And, Rumil was about to go on patrol soon.  Elrohir was in a
tight fix, and he didn’t like it.

The idea of escorting Thranduil’s children to Lothlorien had been a wonderful
thought.  Arondil and his siblings were eager to visit the wood, and Elladan and
Elrohir were willing to escort their friends there.  It was the perfect
opportunity for the twins to get away from their duties in Imladris for a few
days.  But, after three days of idle time, Elrohir was getting bored.  He wanted
to do something, anything to occupy his body, which was starting to get fidgety. 
Today, he had promised to escort Nimriel around the grounds.  He was not looking
forward to the task though he thought of the Mirkwood princess like his own
sister.  But, he had promised her, and Elrohir didn’t want to disappoint the
she-elf.

The sound of light footsteps upon fallen leaves drew his attention.  Turning,
Elrohir found himself facing Nimriel as she raced up to him; behind her strolled
Galadriel and a few of the Lady’s handmaidens.  The Lady smiled upon seeing her
grandson, to which Elrohir gave her a polite bow in return.  The princess of
Mirkwood skipped up to the Peredhel twin, hugging him tightly as if he had been
one of her brothers.

“Forgive me, Elrohir,” the young princess said.  “But, I’m afraid I will have to
break off our engagement for today.  Lady Galadriel has asked me to join her as
she travels around the city today.”  Nimriel stared up at Elrohir with
apologetic eyes, a slight pout on her rosy lips.  “You are not upset, I hope?”

“Nay, I am not,” he replied, laying a chaste kiss upon her brow.  “I will find
ways to engage myself.  Please enjoy yourself today, Nimriel.  There are a great
deal of wonders in the city you have not yet seen.  Grandmother would be a more
suitable guide for you than I would be.”  The princess beamed, presenting him
with another tight hug and a chaste kiss to the cheek before returning to
Galadriel’s side.  The Lady smiled knowingly at her grandson as she led Nimriel
and her maidens away.

“Thank you, grandmother,” Elrohir whispered before rushing off to ready himself. 
If he was quick enough, he would just be able to catch Rumil before the
Galadhrim left on patrol.  Perhaps today wouldn’t be so boring after all.  Some
steps away, Galadriel smiled as her grandson nearly ran off.  Nimriel giggled at
her side.

“I suppose he was rather enthusiastic about your engagement for the day being
broken,” the Lady commented as she began to stroll off in the opposite
direction.  Nimriel fell into step beside her, as Galadriel’s handmaidens
trailed behind them, talking amongst themselves.

“I felt awful that Elrohir was stuck escorting me around the city today,” the
princess commented.  “My brothers all went off today, so that only left Elrohir
for the task.  I would have enjoyed his company, but I know he would not have
enjoyed mine.”

“It was a kind thing for you to release him, Nimriel.  Elrohir will be very
grateful towards you later.  He will be much happier patrolling the borders than
wandering the city.”

“I know, my lady.  Which is why I had to come up with some excuse to let him
go.”  A moment’s pause passed between them before Nimriel spoke again.  “Do you
think Elrohir will tell him today?”  Galadriel smiled; so, she had not been the
only one in assessing Elrohir’s present emotional state.  Even in the short
amount of time she had been acquainted with the twins, Nimriel had developed a
keen understanding of how Elladan and Elrohir dealt with their emotions
differently.  Galadriel accounted it to the fact that Nimriel was the youngest
of four children, and the only female.

“Let us hope he will, child.  But, Elrohir still has some conflicting emotions
he must work out for himself.  He must sort out his own feelings before he will
be able to speak with Orophin.”  Nimriel nodded.

“I hope he finds the courage to speak of his heart soon.”

“He will, child.  He will.”  The two she-elves smiled at one another before
continuing on their walk as they entered the heart of Caras Galadon.  Silently,
Nimriel wished Elrohir luck before striking up an animated conversation with the
Lady of Lorien.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Rumil!”  Upon hearing his name called, the flaxen-haired patrol guard ceased
his preparations and looked up.  Running deftly through the trees came Elrohir,
knives strapped to his legs, bow and quiver slung over his shoulder.  He wore
the garments of the Galadhrim, gray cloak draped over his shoulders and over a
gray-green tunic and leggings.  The Peredhel twin looked as if he were ready for
a hunting excursion.

“And, where are you off to this fine morning, meldir?” Rumil asked, shouldering
his own bow as Elrohir stepped up to him.

“With you, of course.”  The Galadhrim threw him an incredulous look.  “I’m
bored, all right?  I love Lorien, I love the company of Arondil and his
siblings, but I’m bored!  I’ve done nothing but wander Caras Galadon for three
days now.  Only the Valar know why I haven‘t gone insane with all this
idleness.”

“There are other…nightly activities you’ve been engaging in.  With a bit of
enthusiasm if I am not mistaken.”

“Rumil!”  The guardian grinned as Elrohir blushed furiously.  “Anyway,” the twin
continued, fighting desperately to contain his embarrassment, “I thought I would
join you on your rounds today.”

“As you wish.  But, I must warn you.  Nothing exciting has been happening
lately.  I’m afraid you’ll just be even more bored than you are now.”

“I will risk it.  Anything is better than sitting around with nothing to do.  At
least going on patrol rounds will keep my senses alert.”

“If you say so.  Let us be off then.  We aren‘t due back until mid-evening.” 
With bows in hand, the pair set off through the woods, the early afternoon sun
shining down upon them.  For a time they walked in silence, eyes and ears ever
alert for sounds unfamiliar, or unfriendly.  They kept their attentions focused
on the areas around them, waving now and then to a Galadhrim they spotted in the
shadows.  Stealthily they moved, the Peredhel mimicking the cat-like grace of
his Lorien counterpart; indeed, Elrohir and his twin had spent enough time with
the Galadhrim to sometimes be mistaken as a member of the patrol.

“Rumil?” Elrohir said in a near whisper, breaking the silence around them.  

“Hm?”

“Tell me something.  What’s Orophin like?”  He flinched slightly as Rumil arched
an eyebrow.  “I meant, is he any different when…”

“When you’re not here?”  Elrohir nodded.  “That’s an odd question to be asking,
especially since you’ve known him for so long.  I mean, you two were friends
even before I was born.  What would possibly make you believe my brother is any
different when you aren’t here?”

“I don’t know.  Just something I’ve been wondering about, I guess.”  Rumil
looked thoughtfully at his friend for a moment.  Clearly Elrohir was disturbed
by something, but Rumil didn’t know the twin well enough to be able to deduce
what it was.  He had always believed his eldest brother and Elrond’s youngest
son were as close as friends could possibly be, without crossing into the
borders of love.  But, of course, the two had changed their relationship some
years ago.  Rumil couldn’t say how they had changed, or what had caused it.  He
had merely observed that something had passed between them one day and altered
how they viewed one another.

“Elrohir?”

“Yes?”

“Now it’s my turn to ask you something.”  The dark-haired elf turned, tilting
his head slightly in anticipation of the question.  “How do you think Orophin
feels about you?”

“Well…I…”  The question had completely thrown Elrohir off-guard.  He stopped
walking as he contemplated the question.  Such an idea had never occurred to him
before, not even once.  Elrohir had been wrapped up in trying to untangle the
mess of his own emotions that he had completely failed to think about how
Orophin felt about him.  “I don’t know really.  He’s always been there to help
when I needed it.  He offers his services, and himself, before I even have a
chance to ask anything of him.  I always thought it was because we were such
close friends.”

“You never thought he might be in love with you?”

“Well…at one point, yes.  But, Orophin has always been the type of person to
offer someone help no matter what it was they asked of him.”  Rumil wrinkled his
nose in slight bemusement.

“Then, I’d say you are calling in some rather…unusual favors, mellon-nîn.” 
Elrohir fell silent, understanding the truth behind Rumil’s words.  The
guardian, in turn, used the silence to observe the mixture of emotions that
crossed the twin’s face.  Elrohir was clearly confused about his own feelings,
but knowing that Orophin might be in love with him was putting the twin’s own
emotions into a whole new perspective.  “You never once thought he might love
you?”

“No, not really…you really think he could?”  Rumil sighed.  It really wasn’t his
place to have this conversation with Elrohir.  But, he had been the one to bring
it up.  So, there was no choice but to plunge headlong ,and hope he didn’t rift
apart Orophin’s chances at being with the twin.

“I do think he is in love with you, Elrohir,” Rumil explained gently.  “Over the
years you have been friends, he’s taken few lovers.  And, he’s always admired
you greatly.  Orophin’s always very enthusiastic when he finds out you will be
visiting, or that he will be sent to Imladris.  Whenever you’re around, he’s
unusually cheery, and talks a little more than normal.”  He paused for a moment,
allowing Elrohir to take it all in.  “Something tells me, though, that you are
unsure of yourself.”

“Aye, I am.”  He couldn’t help the slight slumping of his shoulders as Elrohir
felt a little defeated.  “I’m just confused, Rumil.  “There’s something there,
something I feel for Orophin.  I’m afraid to say it’s love when it might not be. 
I’m afraid that if I call it love, and it’s not, something horrible will
happen.”

“Risks, meldir.  It’s a risk.  And, if I were you, I’d take it.  It could be
your only chance.”  His head snapped up; Rumil’s words were echoing Galadriel’s
earlier lesson to Elrohir.  They had both, in their own ways, told him to take
the risk, seize the moment.  He began to pick listlessly at a string on his
cloak as he contemplated the course of action he should take.

/Perhaps I should.  I might lose more if I keep silent and go on as is./

“Rumil, I…”  Elrohir’s words were cut off by the snap of a branch beneath a
heavy footstep.  The elves instantly armed themselves, bows drawn with arrows at
the ready.  They caught wind of the men before the group of half-dozen
surrounded them.  The men were of a rugged stock, their clothes patchy and
dirty, the hairs on their face and heads bristly.  Compared to the men of the
Rohan and Gondor, these men were of a less mannered stock, their ways rough. 
Even the rugged Dunedain possessed more refinement than this group.

“Well well, we track a deer and look at what we’ve caught,” one man said in
Westron with a gruff voice.  His dark eyes roamed over the elves’ lean forms;
the simple act caused the two of them to take an even more defensive guard.

“They’re from Rohan,” Elrohir whispered to Rumil in elvish, reading the accent
in the man’s speech.  “Or were.  Possibly of the race that was cast out when the
horse lords settled into the lands.”

“Aren’t they a little far from their settlements then?” the Galadhrim answered. 
“And, what are they doing in the Wood anyway?  Most men would not dare to enter,
much less hunt here.”

“Doubtless they do not realize where they have entered.  Or, they are letting
their stomachs control their minds.”

“I don’t understand a word they are saying,” another man said to the first. 
“Maybe we shouldn’t touch them.  They could be casting a spell or something.”

“What are they anyways?” a third man asked.  “They ain’t no men, too pretty. 
And look at them ears.”

“Whatever they are,” the first man answered, “we could sure use ‘em as slaves or
something.”  Though he didn’t understand a word they were saying, Rumil did not
like the tone of the men’s voices, or the way they were eyeing the elves.  

The next moment found Elrohir and Rumil fighting off the men.  Two fell swiftly
to the accuracy of the elves’ bows; another two fell as Elrohir drew a knife
from its scabbard.  He took down another man before he realized that there were
more emerging from behind trees.  In the heat of the fight, more men had snuck
up on the elves without theirs senses alerting them.  There came a crashing
sound, followed by a soft thud.  Elrohir’s eyes widened as he watched a man
approach Rumil from behind while the guardian was engaged with another.  A
moment later the elf fell from a blow to the head, hard enough to knock him out
but not do any physical damage.

“Rumil!”  With a flick of his wrist, Elrohir rip himself of his opponent,
turning to help the fallen Galadhrim.  A blunt, hard object struck him from
behind.  The blow sent stars into his eyes, his legs crumpling from underneath
him.  Losing his balance, Elrohir came crashing to the ground, losing his hold
on his knife.  The weapon went flying somewhere unseen as the men surrounded
him, blackness creeping into his vision.  The last Elrohir saw were the men
standing over him, sneering down at the elf.  The last thoughts that came to him
before the darkness claimed him was of Orophin.  And, then he saw and knew no
more.

Translations:
Meldir-Friend
Mellon-nîn-My friend



Chapter 5: To Arms
Summary: Orophin, Haldir and Elladan become alarmed when their respective
brothers do not return for the night.  Along with the help of the Mirkwood
princes, they seek out the missing elves.

All was quiet and calm within the borders of Lorien as evening approached, Arien
sinking past the horizon for some much needed rest.  The elves of the Golden
Wood went about their business quietly as they prepared for the evening
festivities.  Lean figures garbed in gray seemed to glide over the grass
ghost-like, as they moved to and fro, whispering to one another in hushed tones. 
Nothing at all seemed to be amiss…until a rather loud cursing drew the attention
of nearly every inhabitant.

“Calm down, gwanur-nîn.  A little backache isn’t going to kill you, after all
the other messes you‘ve been through.”

“Says you!  Would you please be a little more gentle next time you try to, so
call, ‘help me?’ ”

“I would if you would stop fidgeting and squirming around like a child. 
Besides, this is all your fault.  You should have paid more attention to your
surroundings when you were wrestling with that apprentice.  You are the March
Warden after all.  Falling down a hill while sparring, indeed.”  Haldir rolled
his eyes at his elder brother, gingerly fingering his lower back as the two
re-entered the city.  A giggling sounded behind them; the two patrol guards
turned to find Nimriel desperately trying to contain her amusement at their
bickering.  

“I suppose you find this all terribly funny, princess?” Haldir asked with a
scowl.  He didn’t enjoy being the object of someone’s amusement.

“Very much so,” Nimriel replied.  “I do have three elder brothers if you
remember, March Warden.  I always found entertainment in their bickering.”

“Well, thank you very much for the compliment, sister dear,” Celeron said in
mock excitement as he appeared with Arondil and Celeborn.  The eldest prince of
Mirkwood and the Lord of Lorien tried to hide their smiles, which only seemed to
fuel Haldir’s unsettled mood.

“Personally,” Arondil said, as Galadriel and her handmaidens joined them, “I
always found the bickering that goes on between Celeron and Nimriel the most
amusing.”

“Hear hear!”  The group turned as Legolas and Elladan appeared around a large
mallorn to join them.  “I have particularly found the arguments as of late the
most entertaining,” Legolas said with a grin.  “What say you, Arondil?”

“I must concur.  They have been more animated as of late.  I do believe even
Lord Elrond and Lord Glorfindel have found them of some entertainment.  Why, I
remember the lord of Imladris stifling some laughter just the other day.  I
think he surprised Lord Erestor, and I do believe that is a rather difficult
task to accomplish.  I must offer my congrats to the both of you.”  Laughter
flowed freely through the gathering as Nimriel and Celeron flushed a furious
shade of red.

“Has anyone seen Elrohir?” Elladan asked, looking around for his twin.  “I
thought he’d be back with Nimriel by now.”

“Oh, I released him from our engagement,” the princess explained, calming down
from her embarrassment.  “Elrohir seemed rather bored of late.  I had thought he
wouldn’t be too enthusiastic about joining me today.  So, I excused myself and
went on a walk with the Lady Galadriel.”

“I believe,” Galadriel continued, “that Elrohir went off to find Rumil.  They
must have gone on patrol together.”

“That would explain it then,” Haldir commented.  “Rumil isn’t due back from his
patrol for another hour.  I wouldn’t worry too much, Elladan.”  The March Warden
quickly shot his brother a look, as if in an attempt to calm any worries Orophin
might have had as well.  “They’ll be all right.  Elrohir and Rumil are both
adults, and warriors at that.  They can more than take care of themselves. 
Let’s just wait; I’m sure they’ll return soon.”  Elladan nodded.  He briefly
cast a glance at Orophin, noting the slight anxiety in the Galadhrim’s eyes
despite his calm exterior.  Orophin was clearly worried about both Elrohir and
Rumil, but knew there was little he could do until they returned.

“In the meantime,” Celeborn said, interrupting the uneasy silence that had
settled in.  “Let us proceed to the evening meal.  It will do us no good to
worry for now.  Let us try to relax and await their return.”  The others readily
agreed.  They were eager to place their minds elsewhere as they left the
clearing they had gathered in, and made for the inner parts of the city.

~~~~~~~~~~

Three hours had passed, and there was still no sign of either Elrohir or Rumil. 
The patrol that had gone out with them had long returned, but none of them could
remember seeing either elf for the last few hours.  Elladan was beginning to
worry, and he wasn’t the only one.  Haldir and Orophin were also worried, for
their brother and friend.  Likewise, Elladan’s rising anxiety was rubbing off on
Legolas and his siblings, as well as Celeborn and Galadriel.

“I can’t stand it anymore,” Elladan said, nearly jumping out of his chair. 
“It’s been too long.  Even if they had been delayed, they should have returned
by now.  Something has happened to them.  I can feel it, and I don’t like it at
all.”

“We should begin a search for them,” Haldir suggested.  “Most of the Galadhrim
have returned, and are in need of some rest before they are able to set out
again.  You, Orophin and I can set out for them right away, Elladan.”

“We’ll go as well,” Legolas said, standing.  He gently reached forward, cupping
Elladan’s hand in his own to reassure his lower.  “Six will be better than
three.  More eyes to see, and more ears to hear.”  Arondil and Celeron nodded in
the affirmative to their brother’s suggestion.  A faint smile of comfort passed
over Elladan’s face as he gently squeezed Legolas’ hand gratefully.  The
Peredhel felt ready to fall apart at the knowledge that his brother had gone on
patrol and had not come back.  The twins had long vowed that if one fell, the
other would shortly follow; nothing would tear their strong bond apart.

“We should leave soon,” Arondil said.  “The light is gone, but the moon is
clear.  However, if Elrohir and Rumil are taken, whoever their captors are, they
have a great lead over us.  The distance we must cover to retrieve our friends
and kinsmen will be great.  I do not wish to imagine what could have happened to
them in the time spent.”

“Yes, go quickly,” Galadriel said as the hunters began to set off.  “If they
happen to return, we will send someone to inform you.  But make haste, and
return quickly with them.”  Elladan nodded before he, Haldir, Orophin and the
princes of Mirkwood left to search for their missing kinsmen.  He prayed to the
Valar that Elrohir and Rumil were all right.  If not, he swore their captors
would not last long at his hands.  Indeed the thoughts of Orophin and Haldir ran
on a similar path, with those of the princes of Mirkwood not too far behind.

~~~~~~~~~~

It was good that Elrond’s sons had spent many a year traversing the lands of
Middle-earth in the company of the Dunedain of the North.  The rugged Rangers
knew from an early age which trails led somewhere and which didn’t, which signs
were genuine and which were falsified.  Such skills, accompanied by the keen
senses of the elvish race, had worked well in the past for Elladan.  He hoped
they would not fail him now.

The Peredhel searched the ground before him, crouching low to the moss to spot
even the faintest of signs.  Small droplets of perspiration collected at the
edge of his brow as he knelt in deep concentration.  He strained his senses to
see and hear in the dark.  Behind him, Elladan could hear the light footsteps of
Legolas and Orophin as the two searched the surrounding area.  Haldir had taken
Arondil and Celeron a few yards ahead of them to scout the area.  The search had
been slow up until this point, the only signs they were able to make out were
those of elves.

“Anything, meldir?” Orophin’s voice whispered into Elladan’s ear.  It was
becoming increasingly more difficult for the usually stoic Galadhrim to hide the
discomfort in his voice.  Elladan could sympathize.  Orophin, too, had lost a
brother, as had Elladan.  As well, the guardian had also lost a lover, and a
potential bonding partner.  The dark twin could only imagine what turmoil this
added distress could be causing Orophin; Elladan had always pushed the thought
of losing Legolas far from his mind.

“I can only make out signs made by elves,” Elladan replied in a calm voice. 
“Even if Elrohir and Rumil had been abducted by elves, which I highly doubt,
there would be signs of a struggle.  But, I cannot see one here.”  He sighed
deeply, passing a hand over his tired eyes.  A gentle hand came to rest on his
shoulder; Elladan tilted his head, brushing his cheek across Legolas’ knuckles. 
The flaxen-haired prince gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze.  Up ahead, a
footfall sounded before Celeron appeared in their view.

“Elladan, Orophin, Legolas,” he called, his voice sounding a little grim.  “You
had better come and see this.”  Legolas frowned, disliking the sound of his
brother’s voice.  He helped Elladan to his feet before the three elves followed
Celeron back to where Haldir and Arondil waited.

It was not much further ahead where the March Warden of Lorien and the first
prince of Mirkwood awaited their friends and brothers.  Arondil leaned on his
bow, looking out over the grounds around them; he seemed alerted, as if waiting
for something.  A frown creased Haldir’s sharp features, the frown deepening
when he caught sight of Celeron returning with Elladan and the others.

“What did you find?” the Peredhel asked, dreading the answer.  He drew some
small measure of comfort from Legolas’ nearness at his elbow, and tried to give
Orophin that same comfort.  However, his face fell when he saw what Haldir
presented him.  The knife’s edge glimmered in the moonlight as it rested in the
guardian’s palm; a flash of deep red showed where blood had dried on its edge
and tip.

“We found it hidden in some overgrown moss beneath that mallorn,” Haldir said,
pointing to a tree just behind Elladan.  “It wasn’t taken, or damaged, so I can
only speculate that it was dropped and forgotten.  We also found this.”  Thus he
produced Rumil’s bow, the slender instrument intact, but its string broken, the
two ends dangling from the bow tips.  “It was some way up ahead, dropped likely
as well.”

“It’s not Orc blood on the knife,” Arondil commented quietly.  “I very much
doubt either one of them would have struck down an elf.  So, then it must be…”

“Humans,” Elladan finished as he knelt down, plucking a handful of bloody moss
and a patch of brown fabric.

“But who?” Legolas asked.  “Not men of Gondor or Rohan, and certainly not the
Dunedain.”

“Easterlings, maybe?” Celeron suggested.  Elladan shook his head.

“Its some men from the tribes cast out by the Rohirrim.  I can’t imagine why
they would attack elves.  No man dares to walk within the woods of Lorien. 
Except for the Dunedain, who are elf-friends, all men seem to think the Lady of
the Wood will cast a spell upon them for entering.”

“Only starving men dare to enter Lorien,” Haldir said.  “They must have been
hunting when they ran into Elrohir and Rumil.  We should follow their tracks
quickly, before anything happens.”  Elladan nodded and took the lead, searching
the ground before him for more tracks.  The others followed with feline grace,
none making more sound than the other.  Orophin kept close to Legolas, who was
right behind Elladan ever step of the way.  To say the Galadhrim was worried was
an understatement.  To say he was both terrified and enraged was closer to the
mark.

/By the Valar and all that is good on Arda, please let them be alive and well./ 
He silently ran the prayer through his mind over and over as the search
continued by the moonlight.

~~~~~~~~~~

An hour had passed since the search party had found the weapons and left the
woods.  They were in the open now, heading southeast.  The tracks were becoming
easier to read; the men left clear markings of their footsteps in the soft moss. 
Elladan read the signs easily, leading the others along an almost straight path. 
Soon, they came within sight of a thatched roof house, quickly constructed from
some fallen trees and sitting near the edge of a small forest.  The interior was
lit by some candles, casting shadows upon the walls.

“Is that it?” Celeron asked in a whisper, as the elves crouched in the thick
grass.  Elladan nodded.  

“How many are there?” Arondil asked.

“No more than a dozen,” the Peredhel replied, glancing around the make-shift
shelter.  “There are seven tracks leading from Lorien.  They meet up with three
other tracks near the door.”  Gray eyes narrowed, peering into the darkness. 
Elladan pointed to a spot towards the left of the house.  “There are three
graves over there.”

“Must be the three men Elrohir and Rumil cut down before they were taken.”  The
elves perked up as their ears caught the shouts of some voices from within the
house.  Haldir and Orophin instantly recognized the voice of their brother,
shouting out Elrohir’s name.  A heavy blow was heard being struck, followed by
Elrohir’s own voice calling out.

Silently, and with the same thought and intent, the party drew knives, swords
and arrows.  They crept towards the house in complete silence.  Elladan motioned
Arondil, Celeron and Legolas to stand guard on either side of the door to cut
off anyone escaping.  He nodded once to Haldir and Orophin, before the March
Warden stepped forward.  With a quick kick, Haldir had the door open, the force
of the action blowing out the light and plunging the area into darkness and
chaos.

Translations:
Gwanur-nîn-My brother
Meldir-Friend



Chapter 6: Nightmarish Sight
Summary: Unwanted thoughts flash through Elrohir’s mind as he awaits torture
from his unseen captors.  Will help come in time? 

He awoke slowly, and with a dull ache at the base of his skull.  Elrohir shook
his head to clear it, while blinking away the darkness.  The inky black
lingered, however, and the elf became aware of something covering his eyes.  It
was fastened on tightly; no amount of movement would loosen the blindfold. 
Likewise, his hands were bound behind him.  Only Elrohir’s legs were left free,
though the knowledge was of little comfort.  He began to wonder how many had
attacked Rumil and he as the sound of shuffling feet and hushed voices came to
his ears.  Elrohir listened intently, catching pieces of the conversation being
spoken.

“What are we gonna to do with ‘em?” a gruff voice asked.  He was answered by a
snort and another voice, the owner standing right next to Elrohir‘s head.

“Dun know.  Gonna have to be careful with ‘em, though.  They’re quick, and can
fight back.  Had to knock ‘em both in the head before they killed us all.”

“They came from that cursed wood, didn’t they?” a third voice asked.  This voice
quivered as if in fear; if Elrohir had not been blindfolded, he would have
observed the fear emanating from the man’s eyes.  “They say evil spirits live
there.  Maybe you shouldn’t have taken them.  We could become cursed, or worse! 
Who knows what’ll happen to us when the spirits have found out we took two of
their own.  We should take them back, right now.”

“Quit yer yappin’!  We ain’t gonna get cursed, so pipe down.”

“Hey, one of ‘em is awake.”  There came some shuffling from next to Elrohir; he
could only assume Rumil had been laid beside him.  Sounds of a struggle could be
heard, as well as the murmured voice of Rumil speaking some elvish obscenities
directed towards their captors.  The guardian was fierce, and a resourceful
fighter; he was in many ways like his brothers and the Galadhrim.  Elrohir could
only assume Rumil also had his hands bound, otherwise the men wouldn’t have
stood much of a chance.

“Hold him still!”  The struggle became more fierce as more men began to join in
holding the single elf at bay.  Rumil’s curses grew more frequent as he promised
much fear and death upon the men.

“He’s a tough one to hold, won’t stop squirmin’!”  Fabric was torn away, the
struggle between the elf and the men intensifying.  Suddenly, a heavy blow was
dealt, followed by someone gasping for air.  “That should keep him still for a
bit.  Wake the other one.”  A pair of rough hands hauled Elrohir off the floor
in none-too-kind a fashion.  The Peredhel lifted his knee instinctively,
connecting instantly with a soft mound of flesh.  A yelp was heard before the
elf felt himself thrown against a table top.

“Let us go,” Elrohir hissed in the common tongue, suppressing the sound of pain
he almost uttered as his arms crumpled beneath him.

“This one speaks our language.  Ain’t that a surprise.”  The elf moved to sit
up, but the men were faster and quickly pinned him to the table.  He moved his
legs to kick the men off, but stopped when Elrohir felt the cool edge of a knife
stroking the flesh just beneath his chin.

“Be a good boy, or else I’ll have to ruin that pretty skin of yours.”  Elrohir
cringed faintly at the voice murmuring so close to his ear; he could smell the
mead on the man‘s breath.  He bit down on his lower lip as the knife moved
lower, skimming across his neck before resting at the neckline of his tunic.

“Elrohir!” Rumil’s voice suddenly sounded.  He made a sound as if to move
closer; Elrohir could only assume the guardian was no longer blindfolded and was
being forced to watch what was going on.

“Hold that one!” the man who had spoken to Elrohir commanded.  “I’ll deal with
him later.  I’m going to have a little fun with this one first.”  The words sunk
in as a rough hand grabbed the front of Elrohir’s tunic.  He lashed out with his
legs as the material was first cut then stripped away from his torso.

“Don’t touch me!” the Peredhel shouted as he felt calloused hands roam over the
skin of his torso; shivers of disgust swept down his spine and over his skin at
the coarse touches.  He twisted away from the hands, but was roughly pulled back
into position.  A sharp slap was dealt to his face as if in punishment; the
rough abuse stung the delicate skin and turned it a dull red.  Chapped lips
descended upon Elrohir’s neck, and coarse facial hair scraped against his pale
skin.  The hands never ceased their movement as they found their way down the
elf’s sides and to the waist of his leggings.  Elrohir fought harder to get
away, but his struggle only caused the man to act more roughly towards him.

He tried focusing on something, anything than what was happening to him.  He
could hear Rumil, shouting his name and desperately fighting against the men who
were holding him.  Elrohir tried concentrating on sounds outside of where they
were being held as the man’s lips descended onto his own, bruising them in their
abuse.  Alas, no sounds of comfort came from the outside night.  In a desperate
attempt to calm his rising terror, Elrohir’s mind fled to moments with Orophin. 
But, the memories of the Galadhrim’s gentle, soothing touch in comparison with
the unseen man’s rough use only drove him deeper into despair.

“No!!”  Once again Elrohir felt the knife edge against his skin; this time, the
blade lingered over his abdomen, just above the waistline of his leggings.  He
made another attempt to escape, but a pair of hands, belonging to another man
Elrohir guessed, grabbed at the dark strands of his hair and forced him still. 
There was a quick swipe as his leggings were cut away; a thin line of blood had
marred the twin’s left thigh where the knife had cut a little too deeply. 
Elrohir swallowed hard, knowing what was coming next and dreading it.

“Don’t!  Elrohir!” Rumil shouted, his voice choking as he too registered what
was about to happen.  Elrohir squeezed his eyes shut behind the blindfold,
praying silently to the Valar for help.  He felt the hands skim across his torso
again before moving lower.  Just as the hands brushed across his thighs, forcing
them apart, a loud banging was heard followed by shouts of surprise and anger. 
Then, chaos insured.

~~~~~~~~~~

Elladan was woefully unprepared for the sight that presented itself once Haldir
had forced the door of the human refuge open.  The twin gasps he heard on either
side of him said without words that Haldir and Orophin were equally unprepared,
but also extremely angry.  There, before them, was a sight Elladan wished he had
never seen, one he wanted to wipe from his memory if only he had the power.  He
would need Legolas’ comforting words and caresses for many a night before the
image would dim in his mind.

In the dark produced by the extinguishing of the candles were twelve forms.  In
one corner, four men struggled to hold down Rumil, who tried in vain efforts to
move closer towards the center of the refuge.  The brother of Haldir and Orophin
was undamaged for the most part; a few still red bruises and disheveled hair
indicated just how rough the men were in restraining him.  Three other men stood
in another corner, apparently observing what was going on in the center; they
were also in charge of keeping watch out the windows, but had missed the
approach of the elves.

The center of the room was the most horrifying sight to the elves.  Elladan’s
double laid across a wooden table, his hands bound behind him and his eyes
blindfolded.  Elrohir’s clothes had been cut from his body and discarded into a
corner.  One man held his shoulders firmly against the table; a second man had
tangled his hands into the elf’s dark hair, also holding Elrohir down.  A third
man was…Elladan didn’t even want to think about what he was about to do.  Just
seeing the scene made his blood boil as he took a step closer, the silver blade
of his sword flashing in the moonlight which streamed in through the windows. 
Elladan’s gray eyes glowed an eerie pale color in the dim light.

“You are unworthy to be counted among the Secondborn of this land,” he hissed,
taking another menacing step forward.  The men instantly backed away from the
captured elves; they feared what they saw before them.  

“I told you!” the smallest of the men shouted at his companions.  There was
great terror in his voice, as well as in his eyes as he stared wide-eyed at the
elves.  “I told you we shouldn’t have taken them.  We are doomed to die now!” 
His words brought more fear into the men.  Two tried in desperation to flee
through the door, but were stopped by the quick strokes of Orophin’s sword.  The
Galadhrim was just as angry as Elladan, if not more so.  It was his youngest
brother and to-be-bonded lover that had been taken; none would make it past him
alive if he could help it.

The fight began with the first stroke of Orophin’s sword.  Desperate to keep
their lives, the remaining eight men grabbed whatever they could use as a weapon
and flung themselves at the elves.  Haldir made quick work of the three men who
had laid hands on his brother as Elladan took care of a fourth and fifth. 
Seeing themselves woefully outnumbered, two of the remaining three men slipped
past the elves and fled through the door.  They didn’t get far, however, when a
volley of arrows shot them down; the men had been unaware of Legolas and his
brothers guarding the door.

Seeing his comrades fall before him, the last man was growing ever more fearful
of the elves, and desperate to get away.  Grabbing the knife he had used
earlier, he pulled Elrohir to his feet, brandishing the knife against the elf’s
neck.  Elladan froze, as did Haldir upon the turn of events.  Fear quaked within
the man, but he held firm as he stared the elves down.

“Another step and I cut him a new smile,” the man threatened in a menacing
voice.  Elladan flinched as the knife was pressed further against his brother’s
skin to prove the man’s voice.  A drop of crimson marred the blade edge as
Elrohir let out a small, choked hiss.

“Let him go,” Elladan demanded.  “Your comrades are dead.  You can’t leave here
alive.”

“I will leave alive, or this one dies.”  The elder twin’s gray eyes narrowed as
he took a step forward.  Growing more fearful from his life, the man attempted
to carry out his threat as he pressed the knife further into Elrohir’s neck. 
Elladan moved to stop the man; he froze when he saw the man’s eyes roll back
into his head.  The knife dropped away harmlessly as the grip on Elrohir
slackened, then fell away as the last man dropped dead.  The hold on the elf
released, the twin almost sank to his knees before another arm slipped about his
waist.  The touch was familiar, and the faint scent of sandalwood calmed him.

“Orophin,” Elrohir whispered as a warm cloak was laid across his shoulders.

“Aye, ‘tis I, lirimaer,” the Galadhrim replied, cutting away the bonds that
imprisoned Elrohir’s wrists before removing the blindfold.  Gray eyes blinked a
few times, clearing blurry vision before they focused on a kind face framed in
silvery hair.  A deep sigh of relief washed over Elrohir as he melted into
Orophin’s familiar and soothing embrace, feeling comforted now that he was safe.

“Diola lle, a’maelamin.”  Elrohir turned briefly to his brother; he gave Elladan
a small smile to reassure his twin that he was all right.  Elladan closed his
eyes, drawing in his own sigh of relief.  A pair of slender arms wrapped
themselves about his waist, and he gladly sank back into Legolas’ comforting
embrace.  The young prince kissed his lover’s brow, hugging Elladan tightly
against his own slender form.

“How did you find us?” Rumil asked quietly as Haldir helped him to his feet and
freed his hands.

“We tracked you, gwanur-nîn,” Haldir replied.  “It took much of the night.  But,
at least we arrived in time.”

“Aye, it was a good thing we got here when we did,” Arondil replied, looking
around the make-shift refuge as he ventured a step inside.  “It is time we
returned, I believe.  I do not wish to stay in such a place any longer.  I can
only image how the two of you feel right now.”  His blue gaze fell
sympathetically upon both Elrohir and Rumil.  Celeron patted his brother’s
shoulder kindly, knowing what he was thinking and feeling the same.

“Let us go,” Orophin said.  Elrohir nodded, allowing himself to be steered from
the place.  He leaned against Orophin more for comfort that balance.  The sun
was just beginning to rise as the elves made their journey back towards
Lothlorien.  Their hearts were lightened in knowing they had retrieved their
companions without any harm done.  

Glancing back once, Elrohir hoped the refuge would never been used again for
such a purpose as it had been utilized for that night.  He turned away, sinking
deeper into his lover’s embrace.  Sensing the twin’s need for comfort, Orophin
tightened his grip about Elrohir’s waist, now and then whispering comforts into
the twin’s ear.  They would be home soon; he hoped all would be well.

Translations:
Lirimaer-Lovely one
Diola lle, a’maelamin-Thank you, my beloved
Gwanur-nîn-My brother



Chapter 7: Gentle Recovery
Summary: Orophin freely gives his comfort to the shaken up twin, who draws from
his nearness and strength (slash)

“Elrohir!”  Upon seeing her brothers and friends return with the missing elves,
Nimriel sprang from her seat beside Galadriel and launched herself at the
youngest Peredhel twin.  The princess hugged Elrohir tightly, tears slipping
down her face and staining the cloak he wore.  “I’m so sorry!” she sobbed,
suddenly dismissed as she was reduced to a sorrow-filled elfling.  “This
wouldn’t have happened if it hadn’t been for me.  I shouldn’t have broken our
arrangement.  I’m sorry!”

“Hush now,” Elrohir said softly, returning her hug and giving her a gentle pat
on the back.  “It’s not your fault, Nimriel.  You couldn’t have known this would
happen.”  If it was possible, Nimriel’s tears seemed to increase at the
gentleness of his words; her sobbing made it difficult to discern her next
statement.

“I still feel responsible for everything.”

“Come now, child,” Galadriel said as she gently pried the young princess from
her grandson.  “Elrohir and Rumil are safe now.  Do not trouble yourself any
longer.”  Nimriel nodded and sniffed, retreating into the safety and comfort she
felt at her brother’s side; seeing his sister still in need of a little comfort,
Celeron wrapped an arm about her shoulders and hugged her tightly.  “How do you
fare, Rumil?” Galadriel asked, turning to Haldir’s youngest brother.

“I am all right, my lady,” Rumil replied with a slight tilt of the head,
brushing some silvery hair behind his ear.  “I suffered little damage, just a
few beatings; I‘ll heal quickly enough.  It is Elrohir who went through the
worst of the ordeal.”

“I am fine,” the twin insisted, seeing all eyes turn to him.  He pulled the
cloak tighter about his form, suddenly feeling very exposed.  “There is no need
to worry about me.  There was no…lasting damage done.”  Elladan was about to
protest, but Legolas’ hand on his arm and Galadriel’s stern look silenced him. 
The Lady then spoke again.

“’Tis well that you are both safe and unharmed.  Take the day off and rest, all
of you.  Much has occurred this night; now is the time for sleep, and small
comforts.”  Haldir bowed as he led his brother back to Rumil’s talan for some
sleep; the younger Galadhrim looked tired and worn from his ordeal.  Celeron,
accompanied by Arondil, went off in another direction, the pair intending to
find some way of calming their fretful sister.

“Come, melme,” Legolas said in a soothing voice while taking Elladan’s hand. 
“Let us go find something to eat, then we can rest.”  He urged the twin to
follow him, tugging gently on Elladan’s hand.  The Peredhel spared a glance back
at his twin before following his lover; Galadriel followed them, leaving Orophin
and Elrohir alone.

“Is there anything you need?” Orophin asked, the concern in his voice reflected
in his eyes as he regarded Elrohir.

“A bath first,” Elrohir replied quietly.  “I’ll decide what next after that.”

“Come then.”  The twin nodded as Orophin wrapped an arm about his waist, letting
the Galadhrim steer Elrohir back to his talan.  Orophin briefly disappeared up
the ladder, returning a moment later with two white robes before leading the
Peredhel towards the baths.  Seeing a few of them occupied, he searched until he
found one slightly secluded from the others and led Elrohir towards the small
pool.

“Will you stay?” Elrohir asked suddenly, his voice sounding a bit timid.  He
looked at Orophin with doe-like gray eyes, almost as if he were afraid to be
left alone.  The pleading seen in those stormy eyes tore at the Galadhrim’s
heart.

“Of course, lirimaer.  Of course I‘ll stay.”  Orophin kissed Elrohir gently,
drawing him into a warm embrace.  The dark-haired elf sighed, relaxing in the
circle of his arms as he laid his head upon his lover‘s shoulder.  They remained
in their embrace for some time, before the sound of a small splash drew their
attention back to the bath; a small seed had fallen from its branch and was
slowly sinking below the surface of the water as the two watched.

“Better have that bath, lirimaer,” Orophin said, removing his arms from around
Elrohir.  The Peredhel nodded, standing still as his lover removed the cloak and
his boots before helping Elrohir into the pool.  He sank below the surface,
allowing the warm water to wet his hair and unwind his tense muscles; when
Elrohir resurfaced, Orophin had removed his clothes and was slipping into the
pool next to him.  At the mere hint of a signal, Elrohir moved closer to the
Galadhrim, slipping into Orophin’s arms as the silver-haired elf worked to
unbraid his dark, wet hair.

“Diola lle,” Elrohir whispered, burying his face into Orophin’s neck.  The
guardian smiled as his hand gently combed through the dark hair; Orophin’s other
hand remained busy drawing small, soothing circles along the small of Elrohir’s
back.

“You’ve already thanked me.”

“I know.  But, I wanted to thank you again.  If you hadn’t come…”  A soft kiss
to his lips silenced him.

“No need to say anymore, lirimaer.  I came in time; let’s not think about what
would or would not have happened.  It’s over, and you’re safe.  That’s all we
need to know.”  Elrohir nodded, closing his eyes as he sank deeper into the
warmth of his lover’s arms.  Orophin reached for a nearby washcloth, gently
scrubbing the dirt and grime from both their skin and hair.

“Orophin?”

“Hm?”

“What would you have done if…if you hadn’t…”  The gentle ministrations on
Elrohir’s skin ceased at his words.  The twin looked up, noticing the grim set
of Orophin’s jaw; pale blue eyes seemed haunted as Orophin stared straight
ahead.

“I told you not to think about such things.”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it.”  Elrohir felt his chin being tilted upwards, a
lingering kiss placed upon his lips.

“Try to think of other things.  It won’t do any good to linger on unpleasant
thoughts.  Now come, the bath is finished.  You need some rest.”  The Peredhel
nodded, allowing his lover to help him out of the bath and wrap one of the robes
around him.  Orophin wrapped the second robe around his own form before
gathering Elrohir in one arm, their clothes in the other, and heading back to
the Galadhrim’s talan.

When they arrived back at the flet, Orophin noticed a large silver platter of
food awaiting them; Galadriel had had the foresight to send a servant to provide
some food for their return.  He gently urged Elrohir to eat some of the fruit
and lembas before drinking a draught of honey wine.  When the twin had had his
fill, Orophin removed the plate, helping him to lie on the bed before slipping
in next to him and taking his lover into his arms again.  Elrohir’s form
instantly molded to his own, the twin’s hands clasping handfuls of Orophin’s
silvery hair; for lingering moments, they remained silent as they held one
another.

“Feeling better?” Orophin asked, twisting strands of dark hair around his
fingers.

“Much better,” Elrohir said, sighing gently.  In truth, his nerves still felt a
little high strung, the encounter with the humans not quite leaving his memory. 
But, he felt comforted having Orophin so close; knowing the Galadhrim was
watching over him gave Elrohir the sense that he was safe.  He had never felt as
helpless as he had when in the clutches of the men.  He closed his gray eyes,
his resolution hardening and he whispered.  “Orophin?”

“Lirimaer?”

“Help me.”  The hands combing through his hair stopped as Orophin registered
what Elrohir had just said.

“Help you?”  A nod.  “Help you with what?”

“To forget.  Saes, a‘maelamin.”  Doe-like eyes stared up at the Galadhrim,
wordlessly begging him to take away the memories that brought so much pain and
humiliation.  Even if nothing had happened, Elrohir still felt abused and
violated; the laughter and voices of the men would not leave his ears.  He
needed--begged for--his lover’s touch to take it all away.

Orophin wordlessly complied, shifting so that Elrohir’s body rested underneath
his own; his robe fell open with their movements, exposing the Galadhrim’s toned
chest and abdomen.  Elrohir placed his palms against the chest before him,
feeling the steady heartbeat and rippling of muscle as Orophin leaned forward to
draw the twin into a lingering kiss.  Orophin’s fingers lightly brushed the skin
of Elrohir’s side through his robe, eliciting a sigh of contentment into their
kiss.  

The kiss broke as Orophin trailed away to explore the planes of Elrohir’s neck,
lightly nipping on an earlobe and teasing the tip with his tongue.  A flush of
arousal stained the twin’s cheeks and neck as he turned his head aside to allow
more access to his skin.  Blindly, he felt for the sash around Orophin’s waist
and, with a twist of his hand, unbelted the strip of fabric, allowing the
Galadhrim’s robe to fall open.  Elrohir felt his own robe being peeled from his
shoulders and body before being cast carelessly aside; Orophin’s robe joined his
as the Peredhel skimmed the fabric from pale shoulders.

“A’maelamin?”

“Si, lirimaer.”  Elrohir pulled him forward, lips pressing together again as
warm skin touched, creating delightful friction.  Again Orophin broke away,
trailing soft kisses along the Peredhel’s neck and chest; his fingers followed
his mouth, dancing along the skin in playful patterns.  The twin lay still,
working to steady his breathing as he drowned himself in the warmth of his
lover’s ministrations.  Fingers brushed against the healing cut on his thigh;
they were followed shortly by lips tenderly kissing the pale pink injury.

“I would wound them a thousand times just for marring your skin,” Orophin
whispered, pressing his cheek to the soft flesh of Elrohir’s inner thigh as
fingers softly traced the cut.  The dark-haired elf smiled, cupping Orophin’s
chin into his hand as their eyes locked together for a brief moment.  The
Galadhrim tilted his head, tenderly kissing the slim wrist as he slid forward a
bit, hands bracing themselves against the twin’s hips.  Elrohir allowed his head
to fall back onto the pillows as he felt his lover take his arousal into a warm
mouth.  He groaned deeply as he felt his love’s tongue flick over the head as
Orophin pulled away before taking him in again; a slight hiss of pleasure
escaped Elrohir as he felt teeth lightly rack the heated erection.  He whimpered
softly as Orophin pulled away, cool air sweeping over his moistened skin.

“Gently, melme, gently,” Orophin cooed, placing a kiss upon a slender hip.  “We
have all the time we need.”  Elrohir nodded as he opened his arms, folding the
Galadhrim against his body when Orophin slipped into his embrace.  Their hips
ground together, eliciting gasps and moans from the pair as they rocked back and
forth against one another.  As they moved, their erections rubbed together,
causing lights to sparkle and dance behind closed eyelids.  It was almost too
much for either of the lovers to bear.

“Saes…” Elrohir breathed as he claimed Orophin’s lips in a frenzied kiss.  The
silver-haired lover complied with the plea, hurriedly slicking his fingers with
some nearby oil whilst turning the twin onto his stomach.  Elrohir lay still,
one hand fisting the sheets in anticipation as he waited.  A slick finger probed
his opening before pressing in, soon joined by another.  He moaned and closed
his eyes as the digits gently spread and prepared him; they were soon joined by
a third, and Elrohir groaned as they brushed his prostate ever so slightly.  He
began rocking back against the fingers, growing more impatient as the seconds
ticked by.

“Slowly, lirimaer.”  Elrohir whimpered at the words and at the retreating
fingers.  A moment later he issued a deep sigh as he felt the evidence of
Orophin’s arousal pressing against his opening.  Slowly, his entrance was
breached as the Galadhrim pressed inward; impatience claimed the twin as he
pushed against his lover.  Orophin gasped at the sudden sensation of being
sheathed, scowling faintly when he caught the smug expression on Elrohir’s face.

Gathering the twin into his arms, Orophin slowly thrust in and out.  Elrohir
rocked with him, pressing back as Orophin thrust forward.  He gripped the hands
encircling his waist, shuttering as warm lips fastened to an ear and sucked
lightly.  All the fears that had been building in his mind faded away at their
joining, the music of their moans and whispered endearments drowning out the
mockery of the men.  The Peredhel’s world became centered around a lithe form,
silvery hair, blue eyes and a gentle voice whispering his name.

“Orophin…”  Elrohir’s voice ended in a gasp as the last thrust hit his prostate,
sending stars into his eyes.

“Come with me, lirimaer,” the Galadhrim whispered.  Reaching around the twin’s
waist, he clasped Elrohir’s erection in a loose hold whilst placing a tender
kiss on the twin’s neck.  His thumb flicked over his lover’s head, his fingers
lightly brushing against the sac beneath.  With one final thrust, Orophin felt
orgasm claim the twin, and he followed a second after.  From the heights of
pleasure, they sank back together to the solid earth.  For a while they laid
still, the cool air breezing across their pleasure flushed skin and chilling the
sweat that had condensed on their forms.

“Diola lle, a’maelamin,” Elrohir whispered as he turned in Orophin’s arms,
nuzzling his lover’s neck.  Orophin smiled, pulling the covers over them before
wrapping his arms tightly about his love.

“You are thanking me an awful lot this day.”

“There is much I have to be thankful for.”

“Indeed.”  They lay in silence again, basking in the afterglow of their
lovemaking and feeling content.  “I would bind myself to you, Elrohir.”

“Aye, as would I.”  He played with the ring about the Galadhrim’s neck, the ring
he had given him years ago and the mate of the one Elrohir also wore.  He stared
up into bright blue eyes and smiled.  “One day soon.”

“Aye, one day soon.”  They shared another tender, loving kiss before sleep
claimed their exhausted forms.  Dreams did not haunt Elrohir this day, for the
memories of the encounter had subsided at the gentle ministrations of his lover. 
Indeed, there was much for him to be thankful for.  One of which was to be
blessed to have Orophin at his side.

Translations:
Melme-Love
Lirimaer-Lovely one
Diola lle-Thank you
Saes, a’maelamin-Please, my beloved
Si-Here



Chapter 8: Returning Home
Summary: Haldir has a heart-to-heart talk with his kinsmen about hidden feelings
and unvoiced emotions as the pair watch the departure of the twins and their
companions (Orophin‘s POV).

Mid-summer is drawing to a close; soon, the season will be ending, and another
will begin.  Again, as always, the leaves of the mellyrn will turn from green to
gold, and then litter the ground with the glittering foliage.  I’ve lost count
of how many times I have watched the seasons change as I wander the borders with
my brothers and the other Galadhrim.  I have seen many seasons, and yet I feel
as if I have not seen enough.  Or, perhaps I feel as if I will never see the end
of the changing seasons.  Such is the way of the elves, and I have come to
accept that fate.  We are immortal, and only the pains of a fatal wound or a
broken heart can sever our ties to Arda.  Time is nothing to us.

And, yet, time can also be a curse.  We remember everything, both the pleasant
and the unpleasant events of our lives.  The passage of time, short or long,
matters not; but we feel the change all the same, much like our fellow mortals. 
They have a different concept of time due to the experiences they encounter
during their short lives.  They do not fully understand us immortals, just as we
do not fully understand them.  But, the pain and longing that changing times
bring is the one thing we both can comprehend.

As I sit here on one of the patrol flets, the late morning sun warming my back,
I think again how time can be cruel and, yet, kind.  It has been kind in
bringing to me the one person, other than my brothers, who holds my heart.  I
have seen him little over the years, thought about him when I was alone at
nights and wondered when we would next meet.  Time and patience granted me my
wish.  And yet, it is time which takes him away.  It is time that urges him now
to return to his own home, to his own duties.  Hardly two months have passed
since he rode into these woods in the company of his brother and friends.  Two
months, I feel, had not been enough.

Elrohir.  We said our farewells in Caras Galadon, but that was not enough for
me.  Thus, the morning sun finds me sitting idly upon my talan, watching as you
and your companions head back to the valley that is your home.  I watch as the
sunlight glimmers off your dark locks, turning them a deep crimson.  Your stormy
eyes are smiling as you joke with one of the princes of Mirkwood.  You don’t
realize I’m nearby and watching, and I don’t expect you to; even for elves, it
is sometimes difficult to detect the presence of a Galadhrim.  I gaze at you,
and wonder when we will next meet.  I hope it is soon, but I cannot say for I do
not know.

“Orophin?”  The voice of my brother drifts to my ears; I acknowledge his
presence with a slight nod of my head.  Haldir seats himself next to me, his
feet dangling off the end of the flet.  He keeps his hazel gaze fixed on the
ground below us, refusing to meet my eyes.  I know my brother too well to wonder
why he has come.  He is here for answers to his questions.

“What is it you want to know?” I ask, shifting my position slightly while
curling one leg underneath my body, and allowing the other to hang over the
side.  I lean back on my hands, relaxing my posture just a bit as Haldir finally
turns to face me.

“You’re not going down to see him off?” he asks, curiosity lacing his voice. 
Though he is the March Warden, my brother, like any normal elf, is brave and
courageous, valiant in battle and yet curious about certain aspects of life. 
No, I did not phrase that correctly.  He is curious about aspects of *my* life,
especially my love life.  

Haldir is well-versed in the ways of love, courtship and bonding; after all, it
was he, and not I, who had urged Rumil to take a lover almost immediately after
our brother’s majority.  I had not seen it fit to educate--in a manner of
speaking--my youngest sibling in the ways of love and bonding.  When he had
asked me questions that I could not--or would not--provide the answers to, he
had turned to Haldir, who was more than happy to speak with Rumil on the matter. 
I have had my share of lovers, of both sexes, but I do not believe I am fit to
explain the comings and goings of the heart to another.

No, Haldir possibly has had more experience with various partners than I have
despite the nearly one hundred years difference between our ages.  But, while he
can be rather boastful about his love conquests, I am rather quiet and keep
things to myself.  Rumil will often confide in Haldir when he is uncomfortable
about a situation between himself and his lover.  Yet I will keep silent and
brood over the matter until I reach a solution.  My ways in dealing with love
seem to frustrate Haldir, who feels the need to help me with my problems.  Which
is probably why he has come; he must believe there is some tension between
Elrohir and I.  Dear brother, what you see is what we want you to see.

“We have already said our farewells,” I reply, fingering the end of a braid as I
speak.  “There is no need for prolonged good-byes between us.  It is time
Elrohir returned to Imladris, we both know that.  What is the use of bidding
someone farewell twice?”  I catch him rolling his eyes at my words; he does not
feel the same way I do on this situation.  And now the interrogation will begin.

“Why not see them to the borders then?  As an escort?”

“Because they are not in need of one.  The twins know this area as well as their
father’s home.  If you feel they need an escort, gwanur, why do you not go?”  He
falls silent, knowing I am right.  To my right I spot a flicker of silver; Rumil
is in the next talan, listening in on our conversation.  Haldir does not seem to
notice him, and I decide not to speak about his presence.  My youngest brother
knows better to leave me to my devices, yet he finds great amusement in Haldir’s
attempts to break through my shell.

“Do you love him?” Haldir asks.

“Of course I do.”

“And yet you will not see him off?”

“I told you, Haldir, I’ve already said my good-byes.”  He frowns at my words,
and presses harder.

“But, you may not see him for another few years.  You will not spend even a few
more minutes in his company?”

“He has been in my company a great deal over the last two months, if you
recall.”

“That time was enough?”

“For us, yes.”  A pause as he contemplates his next question; I believe I know
what he is about to ask.

“Will you bond with him?”  I was correct.

“Eventually, yes.”  And, now he will ask…

“Why not now?”  Impatient to have your elder brother bonded, are we?  Are you
trying to have me wedded off this moment before the love of my life leaves the
borders of my home?  Are you trying to coerce me into going through the ritual
now?  Well, I can play this game too, brother dear.

“Why ask why?” is all I say.  I attempt, rather unsuccessfully, to hide my smile
at his yelp of frustration; in the next flet, I sense my other brother hiding
giggles of amusement at Haldir’s exasperation.  He scowls at me as he crosses
his legs, resting his elbows upon his knees and his chin upon his hands.  He
pouts in a manner reminiscent of when he was a child.  I know this look well;
Haldir is trying to make me feel guilty for winning his little game.  But, I am
too old to feel that guilt anymore.  “We will bond in time,” I say.  “Now is not
that moment.”

“Why not?”  Is that concern in your voice I hear?  I turn and look into his eyes
and, yes, he is concerned for me.  But, why?

“Why do you wish me to be bonded to Elrohir this moment, gwanur?”  He sighs and
stretches out on the talan upon his back.  Haldir’s hazel eyes are fixed on the
sky above, and he remains quiet a moment as he thinks of what to say.

“I just want you to be happy, is all.  I’ve seen how you look at Elrohir; you
always have such love for him, even before you became lovers.  And, yet, in
public you only refer to one another as friends though everyone knows what the
two of you do when you are alone.”  If he is attempting to make me blush, then
he has succeeded for I feel a faint creeping of heat over my cheeks.  In the
next talan, Rumil listens intently to our conversation, but makes little noise.

“We were friends before becoming lovers, Haldir.”

“Were.  You *were* friends; you are not any longer.  We may be immortal,
Orophin, but we aren’t getting younger.  When was the last time you took on a
lover before Elrohir?  How many years?”

“I don’t recall.”

“Exactly!”  He sits up and faces me, gazing deep into my eyes with his hazel
pair, which seem to have turned green under the sunlight.  “I know you are not
like me, and have not had many partners.  I have wondered why that is.  I think
I know now.”

“Oh?”  My curiosity is perked; my brother believes he knows me that well?

“Aye.  It is because you have been searching.  You have been looking for someone
to share your heart with, not your bed.  You want someone to love and cherish,
share your life with.”  I am impressed.  So, Haldir has been able to read my
inner most wishes and desires.  I never thought he would, but I say nothing as
he continues.  “I believe you’ve found that person in Elrohir, gwanur.  You
found him the day you met and became friends, but only recently have you come to
realize this.  And yet, I cannot understand why, after years of being lovers,
you have not bonded with him yet.”

“You are right,” I say after pausing for a few moments.  “I have found what I
was searching for.  Now that I have, I see no hurry to bond with him.  I am not
our Lady, but I feel there are things that have yet to take place that might
sunder our bond.  I do not wish to bind myself to him only to have that tie torn
apart.  If this bond is to be, then the Valar will tell us when the time is
appropriate.”

“But, you do love him?”

“Aye.  That I do.”  He seems relieved to hear my answers to his questions.  I
know he may think my ways unusual, perhaps unconventional, but he will not try
to change me.  I can feel Rumil smile, and that brings a smile to my face.  “Now
then,” I say, my smile broadening.  “When will it be your time to bond, Haldir?”

“Me?  Bond?”  Haldir seems stricken by the very idea of such a thing happening. 
Oh, I could tease him forever on this matter.

“Why yes.  I have Elrohir to bond to, and I suspect Rumil will choose Lindir
when he is ready.  So, all that leaves is you.  Come now, brother dear, there
must be someone who you wish to spend the rest of your eternity with.”

“Are you mocking me?”  His glare would be one to stop any normal Galadhrim in
their tracks.  But I am not any normal Galadhrim; I am his older brother.

“Of course not, gwanur,” I say while trying to sound innocent.  “Whatever gave
you that idea?  Now, who would be perfect for you?”

“Orophin…”  I ignore the warning in his voice, barely able to contain my grin of
mirth.

“The princess Nimriel is a wonderful lady, then of course there is the lady
Arwen.”  I smile at his scowl but brush aside the implications of such a look. 
“Or is it that you prefer male lovers?  Perhaps the prince Arondil, or his
brother Celeron?  Someone with darker hair maybe.  What about the advisor
Erestor?  I believe he will make a wonderful partner.”

“Orophin!”

“Calm now, Haldir.  I am only trying to help.”  The leaves to my right began to
quiver as Rumil struggles to suppress his laughter.  “You will be all alone once
Rumil and I have bonded.  So, tell me who you like and I shall try my best to
match you two together.”

“Celeborn will never accept that!”

“Celeborn?”  His eyes go wide as he realizes his slip of the tongue.  “By the
Valar, Haldir, have you been bedding our Lord?!”  Laughter explodes next to us
upon the revelation, and I am finding it difficult to contain my own giggles. 
Of course Rumil and I had known about our brother and Lord the entire time; we
had stumbled upon them by accident, and were told by the Lady Galadriel that it
was an arrangement between her and her husband when we thought to report to her. 
Haldir never knew that we knew and had tried to keep it a secret.  Until now.

“I…we…that is…you are impossible, gwanur!”  I can help it no longer and burst
out into hysterics as, blushing a deep crimson, Haldir exits the talan, growling
as he hears Rumil joining in my laughter.  Once on the ground, he stalks off
but, in his embarrassment, he nearly trips over a root and elicits more laughter
from us.  

It takes some time before the giggles die down and we are able to breathe
normally again.  I steal a glance at Rumil, who smiles and waves in return
before continuing with his patrol.  I remain on my talan for a while longer,
catching a last glimpse of Elrohir before he clears the forest and makes for
Imladris with his brother and friends.  Indeed it may be years before I see him
again, but I am content to know that we will reunite.  I pull out the ring
hanging about my neck, and watch as the sun glitters upon the band.  

Smiling, I replace the ring beneath my tunic and move to leave the flet to
continue with my patrol.  Yes, one day we will reunite.  Until then, I get to
think of the reunion to come…and tease my brother mercilessly as pay back.  Oh,
the joys of being the eldest.

Translations:
Gwanur-Brother



Chapter 9: After So Long
Summary: Years have passed, the ring is destroyed, Elessar is on the throne of
Gondor with his new elven wife.  Elrohir is given one last chance to see Orophin
before the Galadrim departs over sea (slash).

Many times had he ridden to Imladris, but always with the intent of returning to
his home.  Over the years, he had carried messages to the lord of the valley or
accompanied his Lord and Lady for some formal function or another.  Sometimes he
came alone or in the company of his brothers just for some time off.  Within a
few weeks of arriving, he would be turning around and riding back in the
direction he had come.  Alas, this ride would not make a complete circle; he
would be leaving Lothlorien, his home for centuries, and would not return.  It
would be the last time he would see Imladris as well, yet he hoped it would not
be the last he saw of his lover too.

Orophin pulled the hood of his cloak a little lower about his face as the large
party from Lorien entered the borders of the valley dwelling just as early
evening set in.  He wanted to see Elrohir so badly, but was half afraid of
meeting the half-elf.  The Galadhrim knew of the decision the Peredhil had to
make now that Elrond was leaving Middle-earth.  Elladan had already told Legolas
of the choice he and his brother had made, but Elrohir had not had the chance to
speak of the matter to him.  

Orophin regretted not having the time to speak with his lover in Minas Tirith
during Arwen’s wedding to Aragorn; there was little he could do about that now
except wonder what Elrohir had decided.  Would he sail to the Undying Lands when
he was ready?  Or would he forever remain in Middle-earth to eventually pass
away?  Orophin hoped he would choose the first as the party drew ever closer to
the manor.

“What troubles you?”  He turned to the voice and found Rumil eyeing him from
behind his own cloak.  “You seemed worried about something.  Is it Elrohir?”

“Aye,” Orophin replied with a small sigh.  “But do not trouble yourself over the
matter, gwanur.”

“You are afraid of his decision.”

/How wise of you, gwanur.  Perhaps, at least to you and Haldir, my feelings are
not so hidden./  “Aye, I am a little worried.”  Rumil reached over, placing a
comforting hand upon his brother’s arm.  Orophin smiled at the small amount of
contact as he covered his brother’s hand and gave it a light squeeze.

“He loves you, Orophin.  Whatever his decision, knowing that should be enough.” 
Rumil had become rather wise over the years; Orophin wondered if that was due to
Lindir’s influence.  Whatever the case, he was glad for the words that lightened
his heart, even if only by a little.

“Diola lle, Rumil.”  The brothers exchanged smiles before quietly following the
rest of the party in passing the arched gateway of Imladris.

~~~~~~~~~~

/Here they come.  How many will be left with Ata’da when the party leaves?  Not
many it seems./  Elrohir was feeling nervous as he observed approaching party
from Lorien, the fading sunlight shimmering off of his dark hair as he stood
upon a balcony, overlooking the road to the Last Homely House.  So many events
had happened in the last few months that everything had been a blur.  He was
looking forward to greeting his friends from the Golden Wood, but at the same
time he was saddened to see them, for Elrohir knew their final destination was
the Grey Havens.  It was a place he was not yet ready to journey to.

His heart skipped a beat as his stormy gray eyes picked out one familiar silvery
head from all the rest.  Orophin had removed his hood as the party passed the
arched gateway of Imladris, the sunlight glittering off of his hair.  Elrohir
watched as his father, accompanied by his seneschals, Elladan and Lindir,
greeted Galadriel and the Galadhrim traveling with her.  

As the party dismounted from the steeds they had been riding, Lindir graced
Haldir’s youngest brother with a brilliant smile and a warm embrace; they would
be traveling together in two days time.  Elladan took the chance to speak with
Haldir, the former March Warden inquiring of news from Ithilien and its princes. 
The eldest twin was more than happy to provide the information, and the pair
made off for a place to talk.  That left Orophin alone with the rest of the
unpacking party.  Elrohir debated on whether or not to go down and greet his
lover, but decided against it for now.  He would find a more appropriate time
for a reunion, preferably a time in private.

Elrohir had been so lost in his thoughts for the last few moments that he
completely missed the pair of blue eyes that lovingly fixed themselves upon his
person.  He was startled out of his reverie upon receiving the feeling of being
watched before gray orbs returned the stare.  Orophin smiled and signaled for
him to stay before exchanging a few words with another Galadhrim and
disappearing into the manor.  Elrohir could feel his heart beating faster as he
heard the footsteps made by soft booted feet drawing closer to his balcony
perch.  At long last, the door to the room opened, a lean form slipped in and
wrapped itself lovingly around Elrohir’s person.

“Lirimaer, I’ve missed you.”

“A’maelamin…”  He turned in the embrace to share a tender kiss with the one he
loved so much.  As they broke for air some moments later, Elrohir leaned his
head against Orophin’s shoulder, a soft blush staining his cheeks as he wrapped
a strand of silvery hair around his finger.  A pang of sadness suddenly overcame
him; Orophin sensed the slight change in his loved one.

“What is it?”  Elrohir sighed deeply, attempting to bury himself deeper within
the warmth of the Galadhrim before he ventured a reply.

“You will leave in three days.”

“Will you not come with me?”  Orophin felt his heart wrench when Elrohir shook
his head.

“I have things to do here; my tasks are not yet completed.  I cannot leave my
home…not yet.”

“Yet?”  He couldn’t stop the hope from sounding in his voice; Elrohir had said
‘yet.’  Orophin wondered if that meant the Peredhel still planned on venturing
to Valinor.  He waited patiently for the answer even though each passing second
felt agonizingly slow.

“Elladan and I had a talk while we were traveling to Rohan before Pelennor
Fields.  It was a long talk, lasting most of the ride.  We debated things,
reconsidered our decisions…and then we decided.”  Gray eyes lifted to meet blue
as Elrohir voiced his next words in a whisper.  “We chose to be immortal.”  The
twin smiled faintly at the soft sigh Orophin uttered.  “But we cannot leave
Middle-earth yet.”

“You will eventually?”

“Aye, when we feel our work here is done.  Elladan and I must look after
Imladris for some years more.  He will not leave until Legolas is ready to sail. 
And I cannot leave my brother alone.”  He paused, collecting his thoughts while
leaning his forehead against Orophin’s neck.  “This is so difficult for me.”

“Lirimaer?”  When he received no answer, Orophin gently placed two fingers
beneath a smooth chin, lifting Elrohir’s head until their eyes met.  “What is so
difficult for you?”

“This decision my brother and I have made.  Elladan does not have anything to
worry about.  Though they are far apart, Legolas is still residing on
Middle-earth; they may see each other whenever they wish.  But you…you will sail
in three days time.  You will sail, and I will remain here.  How long must I
wait before I can see you again?”  Tears began to well up in the stormy orbs as
a rush of emotions began to overwhelm his body.  “How many years will pass
before I can see you again?  I’ve waited so long already, I do not know if my
heart will endure it any longer.”

“Lirimaer…”  Orophin pulled him closer as Elrohir’s tears began to flow freely. 
He hated seeing his lover cry, but could understand the emotional turmoil he was
going through.  The Galadhrim was comforted that Elrohir would eventually sail
over the sea, but what would happen in the meantime?  Years would pass; would
they take on new lovers?  Orophin knew they would not, but how would the years
change them?  He too was afraid of the answer.  “Hush now, lirimaer,” Orophin
soothed while running gentle hands through raven locks.  “We still have three
days together.  Let us make the most of them.”

Elrohir nodded as he lifted his head and wiped the tears away.  A smile graced
his face as he felt a tender kiss being placed upon his lips before Orophin took
his hand and led him away from the balcony.  His lover was right, they still had
three days left together.  They would be the last days the pair would have
together in a long time.  The Peredhel was determined to make the most of them.

~~~~~~~~~~

The stars shone brightly overhead, brighter than they have ever been in the last
few years.  They twinkled and danced among the dark, clear sky as if to both bid
farewell to the elves departing and welcome them to their new home.  As always,
one star in particular outshined all the others.  Eärendil illuminated the
valley dwelling, brightening a path for a pair of lovers who walked the banks of
the Bruinen hand-in-hand.

“Do you fear tomorrow?”

“Nay, I do not fear it.  I wish it would not come, but I do not fear it.”

“We will be together again.  It will be some time before that moment comes to
pass.  But, it will come.”

“I know.  I look forward to it.”  Elrohir ceased his walk as he turned and
wrapped his arms about the slender waist of his lover, leaning his head upon a
shoulder.  Orophin smiled, pulling him a little closer and laying a kiss upon
the raven crown.  They fell silent as they remained in one another’s embrace,
the stars shining off of their hair and the river creating a light, misty spray
about them.  After a time, Orophin spoke again.

“Elrohir?”

“Hm?”

“I would bind myself to you now, before I leave this land.”  Gray eyes widened
as Elrohir gazed up at his lover.  Hope and loved shined in his eyes, the barest
of smiles upon his lips.

“Now?”  Orophin nodded before embracing the twin tightly.  Elrohir closed his
eyes, sighing in contentment.  Slowly he reached inside his tunic and retrieved
his ring, Orophin copying his movements.  The Galadhrim reached beneath raven
hair, unclasping the silver chain and cradling Elrohir’s ring in his palm; his
other hand took hold of the twin’s left.  He looked upon the twin with a great
deal of love when Elrohir took his own ring and waited.

“I, Orophin of Lorien, bind myself to you, Elrohir Peredhel.  I take you to be
my chosen partner in life.  I will wait for you in Valinor until the day you
arrive to be with me forever.”  Elrohir blushed faintly as he felt the cool
circlet being slipping onto his left ring finger.  He gently returned the kiss
placed upon his lips before it was his turn.

“I, Elrohir Peredhel, who has chosen to be accounted among the Firstborn, bind
myself to you, Orophin of Lorien.  You will forever have my heart, and I will
make my way to you with the utmost speed when I am able.”  He smiled as he
slipped the ring onto his lover’s finger before their eyes locked.  Their next
words were spoken together, in a near whisper meant only for their ears and the
stars above that took witness to their joining.

“Im mela lle.  Ilyamenie.”  Each sighed blissfully as they felt a surge of
warmth and love envelop them as the Valar blessed their match and sealed their
union.  As they joined for a kiss filled with their love for another, the stars
brightened together in a warm glow; all those in Imladris who witnessed the
change in the sky knew a bond had been formed and smiled at the happy thought.

“Come,” Orophin said, tugging Elrohir into the surrounding woods.  “Let us make
the most of this night together.  In the morning, we shall say good-bye with
love in our hearts.”  The twin smiled and nodded, allowing himself to be led
into the trees.  It took only a few moments before the Galadhrim found the spot
he wanted.  He had visited Imladris many times in the past, and had found the
small meadow-like space during one of his first visits.  It was large enough for
three people to lie down in comfortably, and afforded a magnificent view of the
sky.  No paths led to it, so it was assumed few knew of the spot.  Orophin loved
it immensely; lying down in the grass reminded him of his talan in Lorien with
its similarly majestic view of the stars.

“I have never been here before,” Elrohir commented, gazing in wonder at the
small meadow.  “I don’t know how I could have missed it.  Elladan and I explored
the entire valley during our childhood.”

“The surrounding trees are rather thick in this area.  Even an elf could easily
miss this place.”

“I am glad you have brought me here then.  When I am lonely in the coming years,
I can come here and think of you.”  Orophin smiled, drawing his bonded closer to
share a kiss.  He slowly drew his tongue over Elrohir’s bottom lip and delighted
in the twin’s moans.  Together they knelt then laid in the soft carpet of grass,
Orophin’s body a pleasant weight upon Elrohir’s.  Hands roamed familiar curves
and plains through tunics and leggings before impatient fingers undid clasps and
lacings, throwing the garments carelessly aside.  The cool night air caressed
their heated skin as eyes darkened with lust and love.  “A’maelamin?”  Elrohir’s
voice sounded hitched as he spoke, arms tightly wound around his lover’s chest.

“Lirimaer?”  Orophin raised himself upon his elbows slightly, gazing down at the
flushed face of his lover, one hand tentatively brushing aside a dark lock.

“I need you.  I need you now.”

“But…”

“Now, please.”  The Galadhrim nodded once before raising a hand, dipping two
fingers into the dark-haired elf’s mouth.  Elrohir eagerly took them in, sucking
on the digits lightly and playing with the finger pads with his tongue.  Orophin
grit his teeth as he became painfully hard just watching the sensual movements
of his love’s tongue.  He removed his fingers, replacing them with him lips and
tongue while his hand made busy, seeking out his lover’s entrance.  Elrohir
moaned into the kiss as he felt himself being prepared; even in his frenzied
need, he was glad Orophin was taking the time to ensure he wasn’t hurt.

The slowness of their moves was started to wear on him; Orophin easily
understood why Elrohir was so impatient to be claimed.  The twin needed to know
he was loved, needed to know he would always be loved, rather than relish in the
sensual dance of their love making.  Using his own pre-ejaculate, Orophin
quickly slicked himself before slowly pressing through the entrance of his
lover.  

Elrohir’s head fell back, hair spraying around in the grass in dark waves, a
silent scream of pleasure leaving his lips.  He pushed against his lover as
Orophin began to move, stars dancing in both of their eyes at the intensity of
their joining.  Fingers interlaced, palms pressing together as Orophin leaned
forward to claim another kiss, his hair creating a silvery curtain about their
faces.  As one they came, shuttering as their spilled their seeds.  Feeling
suddenly drained, Orophin fell forward, his head pillowed against Elrohir’s
chest, the twin’s arms wrapping around him as gentle hands stroked his hair and
back.

“I will miss this,” Elrohir whispered, gently kissing a pointed ear.  “I will
miss the feeling of holding you and being held by you.  I will miss you.”

“And I you.  But we will be together in the end.”  Orophin tilted his head
slightly to gaze into stormy eyes sparkling with love.  “We are bonded now.  We
will always be together, and when we are not, we will find our ways back to one
another.”  Elrohir smiled, cupping his lover’s face in his hands and drawing
them close for another kiss.  The stars overhead twinkled, watching out for the
lovers, promising in silence to keep them each safe until they would be
reunited.

~~~~~~~~~~

He asked me this morning if I would accompany him to the shores, but I could
not.  I know that if I see the Sea, I will be compelled to go with him to
Valinor; that is something I cannot do yet.  Elladan and I are lords of Imladris
now that Ada is sailing.  My brother will not leave until Legolas is ready, and
I cannot leave him alone.  We also promised Arwen we would be with her until
Estel passes; we must keep to our word.  I do not know how many years will pass
before I do make my way to the Grey Havens.  I can only hope the time will pass
quickly.

In the midst of the riding party, I see him turn.  Orophin, a’maelamin, I miss
you already.  You catch my eye, and I return your smile.  Your smile is
bittersweet, and I know mine is the same.  We are bonded, our hearts pledged to
one another for the rest of our time.  Yet now we must part for a while, not
knowing when we will be together again.  Fear not, melme; I will always be true
to you.

I twist the band upon my finger as he turns and leaves through the gateway.  Was
this how Elladan felt when Legolas left for the quest with the Fellowship? 
Hollow yet whole?  Your heart light and heavy at the same time?  It is an odd
feeling I must admit.

“He loves you, gwanur,” a voice says from my elbow.  I turn to find myself
facing my mirror, who offers me an encouraging smile.  “He loves you as much as
you love him.  And he is also a Galadhrim; Orophin will never betray your love.”

“Aye, I know.”  Elladan leans over, offering me a brotherly kiss upon my cheek
before turning away and entering the house as the last of the party leaves.  I
watch them go, watch as they make their way down the paths that lead to the
manor.  Even with his hood on, I can still pick out Orophin from the rest.  I
wait until they are out of sight before entering the half-empty house.  One day,
I will be making that same journey.  I smile as I think about that day and go
about my new duties.

/I look forward to meeting you again, a’maelamin./

Translations:
Gwanur-Brother
Diola lle-Thank you
Ata’da-Grandfather
Lirimaer-Lovely one
A’maelamin-My beloved
Im mela lle-I love you
Ilyamenie-Always
Ada-Father
Melme-Love



Chapter 10: Blessing of the Valar
Summary: Arriving in Valinor with his brother and the rest of the elven company,
Elrohir ponders what awaits him and is given a pleasant surprise (slash).

The warm, salty air felt refreshing against his face as he leaned against the
boat and watched the waters of the Sea sail by.  It seemed to Elrohir that the
water stretched for miles; Middle-earth was long behind them and Valinor was
somewhere up ahead.  The young Peredhel trusted the skills of the shipwright. 
He was more than confident that Círdan would get them to the Undying Lands with
speed and in safety.  His heart fluttered as the white ship pressed onwards.  It
had been ages since he was an elfling, and yet here he was feeling like a
two-hundred-year-old again.

Elrohir wondered about the land he had called home for so many years.  Questions
flew through his mind, replaced with new questions before answers could be
formulated or found.  How was Arwen faring now that she alone of their family
remained?  Would the handful of elves that stayed behind join them in time?  How
would Middle-earth change over the years?  Questions, questions and more
questions wound their way into Elrohir’s mind, making him suddenly feel
exhausted and his limbs heavy.  Yet there was nothing that could make the happy
feeling that had embedded itself into his person go away; Elrohir was going
home, to where his real home was.  He was going to his lover.

“Careful, pen-neth,” a kind voice said from his elbow.  “Lean over any further
and I’m afraid we’ll have to cast a net and drag you back into the ship like
this morning’s breakfast.”

“Círdan,” Elrohir greeted with a warm smile upon his face.  The shipwright
returned his smile, his gray-blue eyes sparkling.  The Peredhel eyed him for a
moment, marveling at the white beard the other elf sported, the only one of
their kind to have such facial hair.  The Teleri elf was kind and much loved
among his own people and the other groups of elves.  It was he who had come for
Elrohir and the others when Estel passed away.

“Excited to be going to where your true home is?” Círdan asked.  Elrohir’s eyes
sparkled at his words, though he wondered exactly what the other elf meant.

“Aye.  I miss Ada and Nana, Glorfindel and Erestor, grandmother and everyone
else.”

“Ah, but there is another you miss the most.”  Círdan smiled at the light blush
that began to stain Elrohir’s cheeks as the younger elf nervously twisted the
band of mithril upon his left ring finger.  “I see that I am correct.  How long
has it been?  I dare say it has been a long time.”

Elrohir nodded.  “One hundred and twenty years.”

“Ah, I see I am correct again.”

“I’ve thought about him everyday since he left.  Some nights I lie awake
thinking of the times we had together.  The longest we’ve ever been apart before
was five years.  One hundred and twenty is so short a time for an elf, and yet
it felt like forever to me.”

“That is because you are in love, and are loved in return, pen-neth.  I am
surprised you were not melancholy all these years.”  Elrohir laughed at his
words as a strong gust of wind caught their hair, raven and silver strands
waving wildly about in the air.

“Oh, but I was.  I missed him terribly all these years.  My heart would ease now
and again seeing my brother with Legolas; they reminded me a lot of what Orophin
and I share.  And the visits to Minas Tirith were especially helpful.  My sister
refused to let me wander her halls in a daze and would always find ways to
entertain me when I seemed to be feeling a bit down.  My nephew and nieces also
kept me busy to the point that I hardly had time to think about the separation.” 
The Peredhel smiled faintly as he paused for a thought.  “I shall miss the
family I still have in Middle-earth.  But, I feel that I am going where I
belong.  I couldn’t be more happy.”  

Círdan smiled, patting the younger elf’s shoulder affectionately before pointing
off into the distance.  “We are almost there.”

Elrohir turned and followed the shipwright’s finger with his gaze.  There, in
the far distance, his elvish eyes picked up a spot of land in the Sea.  The land
itself seemed to be shimmering with a light brighter than that of either Anor or
Ithil.  Overhead, the look-out also spotted the land and gave out a shout; from
the lower decks, elves came forward to catch a view of the land that was to be
their new home for the rest of eternity.  Elrohir smiled upon seeing his twin,
Legolas and Gimli come forth and marvel at the land; the Dwarf seemed especially
touched to see it, the first of his kind to see the land of the Valar.

/It is home.  We are home./

~~~~~~~~~~

“There!  In the distance!”  Light twinkled in Lindir’s green eyes as the former
minstrel of Imladris caught the first sight of the white ship nearing the coast. 
Hundreds of elves had gathered to welcome their brethren, the recent arrivals
from Middle-earth.  Among them was the House of Elrond, there to welcome the
elven-lord’s sons, and with them  was the household of the King of Mirkwood;
Thranduil had left sometime after Celeborn made for Imladris, and was now
awaiting the arrival of his last child.  And, of course, the Lady Galadriel was
there to welcome the last of her people to the eternal shores.

One stood apart from them, lingering on the edge of the woods that bordered the
shores of Valinor.  Patience had always been his virtue; there was very little
to cause him to hurry or speed up his actions.  He awaited one upon the ship,
and would wait until he had greeted his family and friends.  And, when he had,
only then would Orophin step forward and greet his beloved.  He felt nervous,
and wondered if Elrohir had felt the same.  

For years the Galadhrim had wandered the lands of Valinor, settling in the
forest that separated Manwe and Lorien’s lands.  Most of the people of
Lothlorien and Mirkwood had made their homes there; those of Imladris stayed
close by their kinsmen while Círdan’s people had settled near the shores.  The
Wandering Company had taken to wandering the Undying Lands as they had in
Middle-earth, but they always stayed close to their kindred.  And Frodo and
Bilbo, the two dear little Hobbits that had taken on the harsh task of a
Ringbearer, once restored to their youth and health by the grace of the Valar
had settled down with the members of Elrond’s house; they often visited the
other companies and were found many times in the company of Mithrandir.

Orophin felt at home in Valinor, much like he had felt at home in Lorien.  But,
there was something always missing in his life.  His brothers could see it,
indeed nearly everyone could observe the slight diminishing of the light in his
eyes.  They all knew what it meant, that part of his soul had stayed in the
lands of his birth.  The light had recently returned, however, and that brought
about good news for the Firstborn.  It brought the news that more of their
kindred was returning home.

“You can step a little closer, you know,” a voice sounded from Orophin’s right. 
He turned to view his brothers eyeing him.  Sighing softly, he turned blue eyes
back to the Sea and fixed them upon the ship swiftly approaching the shore.

“I am not the first people he needs to greet when he arrives.”

“No,” Haldir said.  “But you are the one he wants to see the most.”

“His family…”

“Will understand,” Rumil finished.  “They know his mind and