Title: Winner Takes All (chapters 1-3 of 6) Author: Fimbrethiel Website: Iavas~e~Guren http://www.fimbrethiel.com Email: fimbrethiel@yahoo.com Pairing: Elladan/Elrohir/Glorfindel, Glorfindel/Erestor, Estel Rating: NC-17 Warnings: explicit depictions of homoerotic acts between consenting males, twincest, 3- way, voyeurism, masturbation. Mostly PWP, a wee bit of story Disclaimer: Don’t own them, dammit. Tolkien is the master, I’m only borrowing his boys and will bring them back safe and sound when they’re done having fun. No harm intended, no profit made. Feedback: Yes, please! Archive: OEAM, Melethryn, Glorfindel of Imladris, aff.net, Library of Moria, http://www.livejournal.com/users/fimbrethiel/ Beta: Helena, Donna, NimrodelJen, Orchyd Constyne (various chapters) Summary: During a game of cards, the twins decide to make a private wager, and the Golden One will be the prize. They have a witness, who will soon meet someone who will change his life. A/N: I was inspired by a memory Aragorn had in Laurelin’s ‘A River’s Tale’. Laurelin has graciously allowed me to use her imagery and write a little interlude of my own. Thank you, Laurelin, I hope I’ve done it justice! The ring Estel wears is, obviously, the ring of Barahir. Winner of the 2004 My Precious Award for Hottest adult-rated story! *~*~*~*~* Imladris, T.A. 2951 Glorfindel heard the sound of boisterous laughter emanating from the large suite of rooms the twins shared as he turned the corner, a relieved smile gracing his handsome features. He would have been told of any harm or injuries upon his return from patrol, but being the Elf he was, would not fully believe it until he heard and saw all three with his own eyes. //They’ve all returned, then, safe and sound,// he thought with relief. The twins and their foster brother had recently returned from yet another expedition into the wilds, their mission simply to slaughter as many Orcs as possible. The sons of Elrond would never forget the torture their naneth had endured in their foul, filthy dens. Estel frequently joined them, taking revenge against the hideous creatures that had slain his father when the boy was but more than a babe. Glorfindel, having sworn to serve and protect Elrond’s household since his return from the Halls of Mandos in the previous age, worried despite himself every time the three journeyed into the lands on one of their missions. But Elladan and Elrohir were seasoned warriors, and Estel, though young, had spent his entire twenty years training and fighting alongside the two and being trained by none other than Glorfindel himself. Estel, a mere mortal, could hold his own in combat, there was no doubt about that. A burst of ribald laughter greeted him as he pushed open the door. Elrohir had apparently just told a joke and had caused his twin and his foster brother to erupt into gales of hilarity. They finally caught sight of the blond warrior of Gondolin and the three gave a welcoming cheer. Rising from their seats, as one they swept across the floor and crushed the blond in a hug. “Glorfindel! When did you return from patrol?” Estel asked, smiling, as he drew back and returned to his seat, absently picking up and shuffling the deck of cards that lay before him on the table. “Just a while back. The borders of Imladris are secure, for now. The land carries rumors of Sauron’s rise, and I know not how long the land will be safe to travel, but for now our fair valley is protected,“ he replied. “You took some of the new recruits this patrol, did you not?” asked Elladan. “Aye. I am quite impressed. There are quite a few very promising warriors among them. As a matter of fact, one in particular stands out, a lad named Megril. His adar is the captain of the Southern patrol. He will be a fine warrior. He is already showing great promise; he simply needs a few more years’ experience under his belt. I suspect he will be a formidable force against the darkness encroaching on our land. We returned a few hours ago, but I spent a few extra minutes in the pit with him, refining his techniques.” At these words, Elladan snorted with laughter. “Yes, I’m sure you did,” he snickered, and gave his twin a knowing wink. The prowess of the golden-haired warrior was the subject of much speculation, and if truth be known, many a lusty fantasy. The beautiful blond neither confirmed nor denied any rumor, so the residents of Imladris were left wondering how much truth there was to that gossip. “My reputation precedes me,” Glorfindel responded dryly, more than a touch of humor in his voice. “If you must know, I allowed myself the luxury of a much-needed bath before joining you. I did not wish to subject my comrades to the stench of a two-week patrol.” “And for this, we are grateful, my Lord,” chuckled Estel, as he dealt the cards. Glorfindel, having taken a seat and stretching his long legs with a blissful groan, noticed the ring Estel now wore on his finger, a ring Glorfindel had known of for many years. “Ah, he told you then, Estel?” he asked the young Man seated opposite. “Yes, my Lord, he did,” Estel responded simply, knowing to what his friend referred. “And how do you feel about this revelation? You are not angry at Elrond for keeping your heritage from you?” Glorfindel questioned. Certainly Estel did not seem to be angry or upset. “Nay, I am not angry. Shocked and uncertain as to my path, but not angry. I understand why he did not reveal my ancestry sooner. My foster father is far-sighted; I trust his wisdom and know the reasons behind withholding my heritage from me until now. I know what is at stake, although I do not know if I have the strength to fulfill my destiny. It is unsettling to think that everything I have known in my life is not as it seems. I do not fault Elrond for this, though…” With a sigh, he returned to the cards in his hand. “Come now, we can discuss my fate at another time. Let us enjoy the company of one another now, and forget the troubles and uncertainty of our world for a while. My heart tells me we will have plenty of both ere long.” *~*~*~*~* //Mmmm, tôren, what I would not give to have seen THAT particular vision!// Elladan thought to his twin, smirking and cutting his eyes discreetly in Glorfindel’s direction as Estel expertly dealt the cards on the table and chatted amiably with the blond. (my brother) //El? Huh?// Elrohir, startled out of his own musings by his brother’s voice suddenly speaking in his head, sent back, raising a graceful eyebrow in a questioning glance at his twin. //Glorfindel? Bath? Come now, ‘Ro, do not tell me you missed that? You disappoint me,// he gently teased his brother. //There is no possible way that revelation could have escaped your attention!// //Nay, seron vell, I heard it. I was, err, distracted for a moment there. It did indeed catch my attention, as you well know. Our lovely Lord Glorfindel in his bath would indeed be a glorious sight to behold. My thoughts, however, were occupied by that scene in the library, remember, the one where I saw him and Erestor…// (beloved) //Ah, your distraction is understandable, then. What say you, tôren, to a taste of that delicious flesh for yourself? I confess I would not mind, either. Between the two of us, he would be sorely tempted. After all, there have been none yet born able to resist the charm of an insistent Peredhil, no? Especially one as beautiful and charming as you.// Elladan responded silently, silver eyes gazing appraisingly over the figure of the blond. (my brother) //Melethen, you are incorrigible! He is a lusty one and often have I dreamed of riding him until he is breathless and begging me to finish him as he did with Erestor. I do not think this is possible, though. He thinks of us as mere Elflings, El,// Elrohir responded, absently trailing his finger over the rim of the wine goblet in front of him. (my love) Elladan caught his twin’s eye. //Then it is high time we changed that notion, do you not agree? We have not been Elflings for a long time now. What say you, tôren? I too would like to feast on that pale flesh and see if it tastes as sweet as it looks.// //Aiya, El, you are going to be the death of me. Or us. We will probably succeed in being skewered only by the point of that knife he keeps in his boot. But the thrill of the chase is always exhilarating.// Giving his twin a smoldering look from under his dark lashes, Elrohir continued, //But aye, brother, we will have him. Tonight. Between us he does not stand a chance.// ~*~*~ to be continued… ~*~*~ CHAPTER TWO *~*~*~*~* Imladris, T.A. 2941 – ten years previous Elrohir walked slowly through the gardens, returning to his rooms late one night after spending an exhausting and pleasurable evening of debauchery with some gorgeous Elf or another. Feeling tired, sore, and blissfully spent, he cut through the center gardens rather than taking the path he normally would. About to step onto the wide porch and turn to the suite of rooms he shared with his brother, he glanced around and noticed there appeared to be lights on in the library. The heavy drapes were slightly parted, allowing a thin sliver of light to pierce the otherwise dark night. As it was quite late, he was certain no one was actually IN the library at that late hour. He thought to blow out the candles and lanterns and leave a note for the staff to be more careful in extinguishing the lights next time. The library of Imladris was legendary and contained countless scrolls, maps, and books of lore. An entire section of the Lord’s library was dedicated to the battle plans and diagrams penned by the hand of Gil-galad, the High King himself. In fact, one of Elrond’s most prized possessions was a journal written by King Turgon, passed down from hand to hand from Tuor to Eärendil, then in turn to Elrond and Elros. It was one of the few items salvaged from the ruins of Gondolin, and Elrond cherished it, the token of that great hidden city that fell ere he was even born. If a wayward spark were to set things aflame, the loss would be devastating. Elrohir neared the entrance and had actually raised his hand to push the door open when he spied a shadow moving. Listening carefully at the window that had been left slightly open to catch the warm evening breeze, he thought he heard the hum of a quiet voice. Feeling somewhat relieved that there at least appeared to be a living presence in the library and that his adar’s renowned literary collection was not about to be reduced to a smoldering ruin, he prepared to leave. As he turned, his breath caught in his throat at the vision revealed by the parted draperies. There was not ONE someone, but TWO. Elrohir drew his slender hand over his eyes to ensure he was really seeing what he thought he was seeing. //Oh sweet Elbereth…// he noiselessly gasped, pulling his hand back from where it lingered, inches from the door. There before him, spread in all his glory, was his father’s seneschal and Captain of the Guard, being taken forcefully from behind by his father’s Chief Counselor. Stunned and immediately aroused, Elrohir was unable to tear his eyes away. Sneaking back into the shadows – and thinking giddily to himself that given their current activities the two in the room were not likely to notice him anyway – he watched, unable to resist the vision in front of him. Erestor wore naught but a flowing night robe that had dropped off his shoulders to hang down his back and over his arms, which draped loosely behind his elbows to pool on the floor. //Mandos, he is much more muscular than those somber black robes lead one to believe,// Elrohir thought appreciatively, his eyes roaming over the surprisingly impressive form of his former tutor. Erestor’s long, slender scholar’s hands gripped the pale hips before him, his head thrown back in abandon, causing his unbound raven hair to sway provocatively with each masterful thrust of his hips. His eyes were closed in bliss, his mouth was slightly open, and he was panting heavily. While the sight of the staid, laconic counselor completely lost in sensual ecstasy was evocative enough, it was the exhibition of the former Lord of the House of the Golden Flower, Glorfindel of Gondolin, spread before Erestor and being mounted like a mare in heat that was nearly Elrohir’s undoing. He watched, spellbound, as Erestor’s hardness, glistening wetly with the oil he must have used as a lubricant, disappeared over and over between the perfect globes of flesh belonging to the fair-haired one spread so widely and wantonly before him. The powerfully built form of Glorfindel was bent forward at the waist over the divan, his long legs spread broadly. He was slicked with a sheen of sweat, which made his sculpted body appear to glow in the candlelight. Pooled, forgotten, on the floor near his ankles were his leggings. His arms were outstretched, palms flat against the low couch, trembling with the strain of supporting his torso in place against the onslaught of the driving force behind him. His head hung down toward his chest, shimmering flaxen hair carelessly pushed to the side over one broad shoulder. A few damp tendrils clung to his sculpted cheekbone. From his view through the window, Elrohir could just catch a tantalizing glimpse of Glorfindel’s proud, erect cock pulsing and twitching, untouched. His eyelids were partially closed in passion and fluttered over glazed blue eyes with each of Erestor’s thrusts. A glimpse of a pink tongue could be seen between slightly parted lips as his mouth moved. Elrohir realized with a bolt of pure lust that stabbed him low in the stomach that Glorfindel was groaning and muttering erotic words of encouragement to Erestor. He should leave. This intimate moment was obviously not intended for the eyes of another and he intuitively knew that both parties obviously so willingly involved would be scandalized if they were aware they were being watched, quite intently as it were. Yet he stood. Ever since he was a wee Elfling he had idolized the warrior. As Elrohir grew, his youthful idolization gave way to a growing and lasting respect for the blond Seneschal. Now that his majority was long past, he recognized at least part of those feelings. Lust. It was lust, pure and simple. Yes, his heart belonged to Elladan; they both believed that somehow the Valar had created their faer as one and bound it separately in two bodies. They were lovers; partners, their faer bound together for all eternity. They sometimes took others to their beds, but each knew they were incomplete without the other. Yet… Elrohir would have given anything to be Erestor at that moment. As he stood in the shadows, watching hungrily, Elrohir unlaced his leggings and slipped his hand down to his erect shaft, now hard and throbbing at his touch, already weeping with arousal. He had spent his lust well with his willing partner several times this night, and as impossible as he would have thought it to be just a few short moments ago, Elrohir knew this evening was far from over. The panting and grunting that emanated from the open window intensified in both pace and volume as Erestor increased his cadence. Glorfindel gasped as Erestor’s hard flesh pounded into him, striking that hidden spot inside his tight channel that sent bursts of stars through his vision. “Uhh, uhhh… harder, ‘Restor, harder… ai, yesss, that’s it… please, end it, I cannot… take much more…” Panting and breathing heavily, Erestor growled and chuckled, a low throaty sound, his words punctuated by each thrust into the velvety tightness of the beautiful, golden body beneath him. “Do you, UH, like that, ‘Fin? Do you, UH, like what I - do to you? Do you like to, ahhhhhh, give up… control? Do you like it, UH, when you are rendered… utterly helpless, UH, by another, UH, begging for your release? UH, beg me, ‘Fin, beg me…” “Aaaahhhh, yes, yes, do it, finish it, please, ‘Restor, uhhhh, I beg you,” Glorfindel pleaded. Unbelievably, Erestor pistoned his hips forward and back even faster, driving uncompromisingly into the tight sheath that engulfed him. One hand remained on Glorfindel’s hip, holding him in place against the onslaught. The other reached below and gripped Glorfindel's throbbing, weeping length and began stroking firmly in opposition to each push of his hips. Thrust. Stroke. Thrust. Stroke. The slender hand on his shaft stroked more quickly, and suddenly as a single unit, the two joined gave a great shudder, shouting out their climaxes, Glorfindel’s essence pulsing white and thick from his cock and coating Erestor’s hand. Glorfindel collapsed with a great shudder, finally, across the arm of the divan and Erestor slumped, exhausted, across his lover’s broad back, both of them gasping for breath. Quickly, before the two fully returned to their senses and noticed his labored breathing outside the window, Elrohir turned from the scene before him and ran quickly and silently back through the garden to the shared suite of rooms. He threw open the door to the common room, grabbed his unsuspecting and amused brother by the hand, and literally dragged him into his bedchamber. He paused only long enough to shed his tunic, lock the bedroom door, and seize a vial of oil from a table before throwing a startled but thoroughly aroused Elladan across the bed. “Ro? What is it?” “Shut up, El, and turn over.” He said nothing more as he slaked his re-awakened lust on his twin. The night wore on toward Anor’s rising before Elladan ever did get an explanation. *~*~* to be continued… *~*~* CHAPTER THREE *~*~*~*~* Imladris, T.A. 2951 A soft, fragrant breeze wafted gently through the open window. The night air was scented with the faint aroma of flowers, woods, and water that lingered from the heat of the day’s sun. The wine flowed as freely as their tongues while the quartet relaxed and enjoyed the company of one another. They were happy to have returned to the safety of their home after traveling through the growing perils of the land. The night wore on and the four played with easy familiarity. Three brothers, two bound by blood and one by love and duty, shared the tales of their most recent expedition through the wilds of Middle-earth. Glorfindel told stories of his patrol of the borders of Imladris. The Elda frequently brought his friends to tears of laughter with his humorous retellings of the antics of his border guards. He had an effortless way of relating to others, with quick-witted, self-deprecating humor. Glorfindel's disposition was one of unforced friendliness and vivacity, as easily able to charm a visiting dignitary during a heated political discussion as to tickle and tousle the hair of a wee Elven child. Indeed, the blond warrior was easy on the eyes, as well. Tonight, free of its usual warrior braids, his golden hair hung like a shimmering waterfall over his broad shoulders and halfway down his back. The thick mass was held away from his face by a delicate mithril clip, revealing gracefully pointed ears. Cerulean eyes sparkled like the great sky above on a summer’s day and were set in a proud and noble face. High cheekbones flanked a strong nose above full, luscious pink lips. The Seneschal’s long body was lean and fit, battle-hardened muscle flowing smoothing under softly shimmering skin the color of aged ivory. Everywhere he went, worshipful eyes followed. Half the population of Imladris would gladly share his bed. The other half already had, if one believed the rumors, although Glorfindel was not one to kiss and tell. He steadfastly refused to either validate or deny any such speculation. It was part of what made him so endearing. Elrohir found himself hard and aching at the thought of Glorfindel’s resplendent body rising wet from his bath, drops of water glistening like diamonds across a creamy expanse of flesh. His memory returned again and again to the scene he had unwittingly witnessed in the library those years ago. The golden-haired warrior had captivated him with his wanton sensuality. Since that moment, he had harbored a longing in his heart and his groin to have the blond one writhing beneath him in ecstasy, begging and whimpering in his need. *~*~*~*~* Glorfindel started, feeling the slight pressure of a warm, solid leg pressed intimately against his. He lifted his eyes from the cards he held in his hand to meet the laughing gray eyes of Elladan. Glorfindel questioningly raised a graceful eyebrow, then moved his leg away and returned to studying his cards. Slowly, gently, a wayward foot slipped forward to rub subtly against his calf, before sliding sinuously around his ankle and tugging the captive foot closer. Blue eyes rose again to meet gray, which were sparkling with humor and a touch of something else. Shocked at this blatant display of intimacy, Glorfindel’s thoughts whirled uncertainly. //What game is he playing? I must misunderstand, he surely cannot mean…// Glorfindel had stood by Elrond, beaming with love and pride as the Lord held his tiny twin sons for the first time. He had assisted his Lord and Lady in raising them. He taught them to swim and whistle like a bird; chastised them when they teased their sister and made her cry. Taught them the art of sword fighting and archery; held one sobbing twin in his arms while Erestor held the other, all four overcome with grief and horror after Celebrían was brought bleeding and abused back to Imladris. He had comforted them in their sorrow when their beloved naneth finally made the journey to Valinor. The buzz of conversation became a dull hum to his ears as he contemplated the warm foot twined about his ankle. Again, he met the gray stare of his tormenter. Blue eyes widened in surprise to see the barest tip of a tongue slither seductively between parted lips to caress the bow of a pink and sensuous upper lip. //By the Valar, that was no mistake.// *~*~*~*~* //Elladan, what are you doing? He will kill you!// Elrohir thought in alarm to his twin. He had witnessed the silent exchange of looks between his brother and Glorfindel. Always present in each other’s minds, he could feel his sibling was up to something. That ‘something’ would almost certainly land them both in some sort of trouble; it usually did. //Did you not want him, tôren? Perhaps I was mistaken…// Elladan purred silently back to his twin. //I would be more than happy to keep him to myself. He smells simply divine, does he not? The way his hair shines in the candlelight is most appealing.// (my brother) //Sweet Elbereth, do you have to be so - BLATANT about it? Even Estel will know what you are up to!// pleaded Elrohir, hoping in desperation that the blush he felt slowly creeping across his cheeks would be attributed to the heady wine they were drinking. //Brazen and wicked, that is what you are, pen vara.// (eager one) Elladan’s full lips twisted into a mischievous grin as he arched a slim eyebrow questioningly at his brother. //’Ro, tell me to stop and I will. But, melethen, you have longed for him for a decade. The opportunity presents itself. With but a small amount of machination on our part, you will have him. I can feel his uncertainty, but it is mixed with no small amount of curiosity. He would put up only a token resistance, I sense. His emotions are warring between desire and the sense of propriety as he reconciles the fact that we are no longer mere children.// (my love) Elladan pressed a bit harder. He could feel his twin’s reluctance was slowly being overcome by the desires of his body. //I can see you are not convinced. I will let this opportunity pass, but know this, tôren, we will not have another chance such as this. The Dark Lord’s power is again growing and you and I will be called away from our home to fight his rising. Glorfindel’s place is here, with Adar and Arwen. Our paths may not cross again for a long time. Would you ride to meet Sauron’s evil never having tasted that sweet flesh? Never having had his body quivering in desire under yours? If you are certain…// Elladan, ever the instigator, let the thought trail away, knowing his twin would take the bait. //Gods, El. I do want him; you know I do. It is taking every fiber of restraint I possess not to simply throw him across the table and have him right here in front of you and Estel. No, pen vaelui, you misunderstand me. My fear is not his rejection, it is losing his respect.// Elrohir took a deep breath and risked a furtive glance at the blond. Glorfindel did not notice, he was seemingly engrossed in the telling of yet another anecdote about his patrol and did not see the eyes of the twins become somewhat glazed as they conversed silently. (lustful one) //He would not refuse you, pen dithen, none could,// Elladan reassured his uncharacteristically insecure younger brother. (little one) While Elrohir was the more reserved and introspective of the two, he also possessed a quiet self-assurance that was quite unlike Elladan’s more assertive, and sometimes impetuous, manner. This uncertainty now was charming, and Elladan’s heart swelled with love for his brother. //You are beautiful and desirable, Elrohir. He would be a fool to reject you, and Glorfindel is no fool.// Elladan reassured his twin silently, and let a gentle fl you win this game, I will assist you in seducing your golden warrior. If it is determined I am the winner, I will have you at my mercy for the night. In either case, I will take full responsibility if our lovely Lord is offended. I will not have you bear the brunt of his displeasure.// Elrohir took a breath, paused, and centered his thoughts. Just as Elladan feared his brother would tell him to stop, Elrohir responded. //Aye. He is exquisite, and so passionate. I am willing.// *~*~*~*~* The stacks of coins before Elrohir became larger, and the pile before Estel smaller. Elladan and Glorfindel appeared to be fairly evenly tied. They played only a friendly game; the stakes were not high, but the four enjoyed playing together. It was a rarity that they were in the same place at the same time. Estel threw the last hand down on the table and grumbled in disgust. “By the fires of Morgoth, I am out.” Standing from his chair, he swayed unsteadily on his feet and would have tumbled to the floor had not Glorfindel’s quick reflexes saved him. “I am fine, Glorfindel,” he muttered, shaking off the hand that encircled his slim shoulders, steadying him. “Hush, pen dithen, let me walk you to your quarters. You forget you do not have the tolerance we do for this heady Elven wine. Sometimes I think you even believe yourself to be one of our kind,” Glorfindel chuckled gently. The low rumbling sound sent bolts of pure fire to the loins of the Peredhil. “You have also had much to think about this past day. Let me get you settled in your chamber. Besides,” he added dryly, “I seem to be standing anyway.” (little one) Turning back to the raven-haired twins still seated comfortably at the table, long legs splayed in front of them, he said, “And, as for you two, I will return to win my money back!” He grinned and swept the small stack of coins at Estel’s seat into the palm of one large hand. Leading a slightly weaving Estel, he turned to close the door behind and met two identical pairs of gray eyes, their heated gaze boring into his own. //I will also be back to see what those two are up to,// he thought. //Three can play at this game.// ~*~*~ to be continued… ~*~*~ Title: Winner Takes All (chapters 4-6 of 6) Author: Fimbrethiel Website: Iavas~e~Guren http://www.hithanaur.net/fimbrethiel/ Email: fimbrethiel@yahoo.com Pairing: Elladan/Elrohir/Glorfindel, Glorfindel/Erestor, Estel Rating: NC-17 Warnings: explicit deptions of homoerotic acts between consenting males, 3-way, voyeurism, masturbation. Mostly PWP, a wee bit of story Disclaimer: Don’t own them, dammit. Tolkien is the master, I’m only borrowing his boys and will bring them back safe and sound when they’re done having fun. No harm intended, no profit made. Feedback: Yes, please! Archive: OEAM, Melethryn, Glorfindel of Imladris, aff.net, Library of Moria, http://www.livejournal.com/users/fimbrethiel/ Beta: Helena Snow-Renn, Orchyd Constyne Summary: During a game of cards, the twins decide to make a private wager, and the Golden One will be the prize. They have a witness, who will soon meet someone that will change his life. *~*~*~*~* If you want to kiss the sky you better learn how to kneel. On your knees, boy… U2 *~*~*~*~* Glorfindel deposited Estel in his chamber, assisting the woozy young Man in removing his boots and tunic before settling him among the blankets and fluffy pillows on his bed. He chuckled softly to himself when the Man snuggled cozily down in the comfort of his bed and immediately fell into a deep, alcohol-induced slumber. Glorfindel fondly brushed a lock of dark hair off Estel’s forehead, ruminating briefly how young, yet noble, he looked. //This one is destined for great things,// he thought, knowing his predictions were uncanny in their accuracy. Something about having died did that to someone, he surmised. The hallways were dimly lighted that time of night, most of the inhabitants of Imladris having already gone to bed. Glorfindel treaded lightly, his footsteps soft and unhurried, making only the barest whisper on the tiled floor. He took his time as he pondered the happenings in the twins’ rooms. At the first forward brush of a foot against his, he had thought it was an inadvertent misplacement of a limb, the simple matter of legs far too long under a table much too small. The second, though, there was no mistaking it. For Elladan’s sake, Glorfindel assumed a façade of ignorance, giving himself time to assess the situation. Glorfindel, being an honorable Elf, would never breach another’s private thoughts. However, being ancient among the Eldar, he could sense the moods and general feelings of others without actually entering their minds. What he gleaned from reading the emotions of the Peredhil took him by surprise. His initial thought was of shock, which eventually gave way to amazement and intrigue. The twins were stunning creatures, there was no doubt about that. Only a fraction less in stature than Glorfindel himself, they were slim, clean-limbed and long of arm and leg. The brethren possessed the slightly darker-hued skin tone that bespoke of their adar’s Edain ancestry. The Noldor blood of their forbearers, combined with that of Melian, most beautiful of Maiar, ensured that the Peredhil of Imladris were fair of face beyond measure of Men and Elves. The dark locks and piercing gray eyes of their father were only enhanced by Celebrían’s bequest of grace and beauty, adding to their exotic looks and innate charm. They were as different as Anor and Ithil in temperament, yet complemented each other perfectly. Glorfindel reached the door to the twins’ room and paused a moment before entering. Elladan was intent on seduction. Glorfindel also knew that Elladan had involved Elrohir as well. Elladan was always the instigator; he had been since the twins were small, somehow convincing his younger brother to go along with whatever plan he had. Glorfindel wondered how far the Peredhil were going to carry this ruse of seduction, and decided then to play along with them and see just how far they would go before he let them in on his knowledge. *~*~*~*~* He knocked lightly on the door to let the twins know he had returned. Scurrying and rustling ensued, before a voice finally answered. “Glorfindel? Enter.” To outward appearances, nothing had changed. The gaming table was laid as it had been when he left; his cards lay untouched before his seat. The candlelight still illuminated the chamber with a soft glow. Yet, something was different. The twins looked just a bit rumpled, their skin flushed. Elladan had a look of satisfied amusement on his flushed face, while Elrohir appeared to be shaky and have difficulty catching his breath. Glorfindel’s senses detected a slightly musky undercurrent mingling with the fresh outdoor scent in the air. //Those two just cannot keep their hands off each other,// he thought with wry amusement as he recognized the smell of sex. With a determined look of nonchalance plastered on his face, Glorfindel returned to the seat he had vacated earlier. //Now that they have had their little bit of fun, let us see in which manner they will continue this farce.// He gathered the cards scattered across the table, and, beginning to shuffle, met Elrohir's eye and gave him a knowing wink. He was most amused to see Elrohir blush becomingly. *~*~*~*~* After the first few moments of boozy slumber, Estel woke with a dull, throbbing headache pulsing queasily behind his temples. His heart seemed to race, and he felt restless, tangled and stifled by the bed coverings. It was a common happening when he imbibed the rich Elven wine that was an Imladris favorite; after the initial intoxication, he found himself plagued with insomnia. With a wry smile, he recalled Glorfindel’s words. It was true; he had lived among the Elves for his entire life and did sometimes forget he was not of their kind. It was not a habit for him to overindulge in this manner. However, Glorfindel was correct. It had been an emotional day and the wine had gone straight to his head. It was not every day that one learned he was a descendant of the line of Elros and rightful heir to the throne of Gondor. He rose unsteadily from his bed and lit a taper on the table. Clutching the candle precariously in one hand, he staggered to his private bathing chamber to relieve himself. He rummaged through a drawer, searching for Elrond’s special “morning after” mix and found just enough of the liquid in the elusive bottle for one last dose. His foster father concocted an herbal remedy to ease the ills of too much alcohol and kept his supplies well stocked for his fosterling, as well as the occasional human visitor. Returning to his bedchamber, he noted with amusement that his tunic was folded neatly on the chair beside the bed and his boots placed carefully next to it. Glorfindel was widely lauded for many things; neatness was not one of them. He poured himself a large goblet of water and drank thirstily, heedless of the drops that overflowed and splashed his bare chest. Stripping off his leggings, shrugged on a thin night robe over his nakedness and poured himself another goblet of water. Goblet in one hand, candle in the other, he stepped outside to the wide porch and into the warm night air to wait for Elrond’s hangover cure to take effect and usher him back into a sleepy state. How he envied the Elves and their ability to imbibe without lasting effects! The family wing of the Last Homely House was arranged in a rough L-shape. Immediate family occupied the quarters on the first level. The twins, who had never been separated since birth, shared the largest suite, one that had been specially designed by joining two smaller chambers around a central common area and private bathing room. The upper echelon in Elrond’s employ, primarily Glorfindel, Erestor, and Lindir, along with a few of the higher-ranking members of Elrond’s counsel, was housed on the second floor. Elrond’s own quarters occupied most of the third level and had an almost panoramic view of the breathtaking vistas and waterfalls of the beautiful valley and of the Misty Mountains. Estel seated himself in one of the comfortable chairs placed strategically around the porch and stretched his long legs out in front of him. He placed the goblet on the ground near his chair and blew out the candle, allowing the darkness to soothe the dull thumping in his head. He leaned his head back against the chair and closed his eyes, waiting for the potion to take effect and calm the jittery feeling that inevitably came with overindulgence. The night sounds – crickets chirping idyllically, owls mournfully hooting, and the rustle of nocturnal creatures foraging among the shrubberies – lulled him again into light slumber. He woke with a start a while later and realized he was still outside. Ithil had traced a path across the sky and he reckoned he had been dozing for over an hour, no more than two. He stretched and groaned, rubbing the stiffness from his neck. It was as he looked about him in the moonlight to gather his belongings that he noticed light coming from the twins’ room, adjacent and around the corner to his own. What he saw took his breath away, any thought of his lingering headache driven out of his mind. *~*~*~*~* More wine, more cards, more forward brushes of feet. A firm calf pressed against his, fingers lingering against a hand, a friendly touch to an arm held just a tiny bit too long than propriety dictated. Sly winks and lascivious licking of lips. A gaze held, gray eyes to blue, a moment longer than necessary. The time for tact and diplomacy had long past. Those traits were better suited for Elrond’s counselor, anyway; Glorfindel’s way was forthright and direct. What had begun as a seemingly, if not innocent, but simple game of flirtation had raged into a full- blown assault of seduction, and it ended now. Glorfindel was not a diplomat, he was an Elf of action, and he wanted answers. He lay his cards face down and sighed, taking a fortifying sip of his wine. “Elladan, what, er...” he trailed off, words finally deserting him. Now that he had laid his cards on the table, so to speak, he found himself at a loss. “Why?” To Glorfindel’s surprise, it was Elrohir who groaned almost imperceptibly and slumped forward in his seat, burying his beautiful face in his hands. “El, I knew it, I told you,” he whispered forlornly. Elladan rose from his seat and rounded the table, kneeling on the floor next to his brother and enfolded him in his arms. He rested his cheek against his twin’s chest and softly stroked his hair. “Elrohir, seron vell, hush. This is my responsibility, you are blameless.” (beloved) “Nay, tôren, you are not to blame; I gave my consent. I could have refused,” Elrohir raised his head from his hands and wrapped his arms around his brother. He bestowed a soft kiss on his twin’s forehead while Glorfindel looked on uncertainly, unsure of what was transpiring between his former students. “I cannot go on with this charade. It was reprehensible and self-indulgent, and I will apologize.” (my brother) Elrohir gently extricated himself from the protective circle of his brother’s arms and rose to his feet, to come before Glorfindel and drop to his knees beside the Seneschal. Glorfindel turned in his chair to face the one before him and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting with his head tilted questioningly to the side. He was willing to play along just to see how far the twins would carry their charade. This turn of events had him puzzled. “I have wronged you, Híren,” Elrohir bowed his head in shame, his face flushed crimson in embarrassment. Tears shimmered in his gray eyes, framing them in shining mithril. (my Lord) Glorfindel reached out with one large hand and gently tipped Elrohir’s chin toward him, forcing the one kneeling before him to meet his piercing gaze. “How did you wrong me, pen vain? Please, explain yourself. A few moments ago, your brother was engaged in a harmless game of flirtation. None of us are shy virgins, inexperienced in the acts of love. I am not so naïve as to be caught unawares of the ruse you and your brother were intent on.” He paused, his hand dropping to Elrohir’s shoulder and rubbing gently. He caressed the ebony locks flowing over the strong shoulder before gently tucking a loose strand behind Elrohir’s ear. (beautiful one) Elladan joined his brother on the floor. He wrapped one arm lovingly about the waist of his twin and placed the other hand on Glorfindel’s knee before meeting the piercing blue eyes of the Seneschal. “Nay, Glorfindel, it is I who is at fault. I cannot allow my brother to be held responsible for this charade.” He nervously cleared his throat, unsure how to continue. “A number of years ago, ‘Ro saw you... “I saw you in the library, Glorfindel,” his twin interrupted. “You and Erestor. You were - involved.” Glorfindel’s blue eyes opened wide in surprise at this revelation. The friendship between him and the raven-haired Chief Counselor had been deep and abiding for years beyond count, and the line between friend and lover was occasionally blurred. They were not exclusive, nor were they in love, but occasionally took comfort in each other. Most of their infrequent encounters took place in the privacy of their respective quarters. The tryst in the library, though, was one he remembered vividly and with fond memories. Erestor had surprised and delighted him with his ferocity that night. In truth, he had surprised himself by yielding so enthusiastically. Elrohir rushed on before he lost his nerve. “It was late at night, and I was returning to my room when I saw the library still brightly lit. I feared the servants had left the candles alight, and when I reached the door I saw the two of you through a crack in the draperies. I should not have watched, yet I stayed.” The blush suffusing his fair face darkened and he hung his head in shame at his next words. “You were so beautiful as you gave yourself to him,” he whispered as the tears flowed unchecked down his cheeks in silver rivulets, leaving a shining path in their wake. “I wanted you then; I have wanted you since. I did not know how to approach you, for fear you would ridicule my desire as the infatuation of a child for his elder.” Elladan softly stroked his brother’s back in silent and loving support. “He came to me that night, Glorfindel, and I knew the depth of his passion for you. He has harbored this secret desire for years, afraid to speak of it to anyone save me. Then, tonight, I saw an opportunity to give him what he has longed for. I suggested a wager: if he were to best us tonight, I would assist him in seducing you. If I were to win, though, he would be my slave for the night. Little did I know... It was not Elrohir’s fault, mellonen vrûn. I can deny my brother nothing, yet in my vain attempt to give him his heart’s desire, I fear I have caused only discord. Díheno nin.” (my old friend; forgive me) “So, you sought to entrap me in a web of lies and deceit? Did you think me so ancient and decrepit that I would be unable to see through your ploy? Did you take me for a fool?” Glorfindel asked, his voice coming sharper than he intended. Identical gray eyes lifted in horror, widening in fear and disbelief when they met the piercing sapphire gaze boring into theirs. He cupped a strong hand to the cheeks of the two who knelt before him, brushing the rough pad of each thumb over proud cheekbones. Softening his tone, he looked from one exquisite face to the other, faces he held dear to his heart. “Did you think me so heartless as to ridicule your desires?” He slowly rose to his feet, bringing the two kneeling before him to stand. His hands roamed slowly across their backs with the barest touch, lifting inky silken strands of hair and allowing them to side sensuously through his fingers. //An absolute sensual delight, these two,// he mused. //Do they truly think me so immune to their charms?// “Maethyren vyrn, did either of you beautiful fools think to simply ask?” (my dark warriors) ~*~*~ to be continued… ~*~*~ CHAPTER FIVE *~*~*~*~* His breath rasped in his chest as he watched, unseen, from his chair on the porch. He allowed one hand to drop slowly to the gap in his night robe and rub slowly over his bare chest, feeling the hairs whisper-soft under his fingers. The hand traced the thin line of hair down beyond his navel, becoming more coarse and wiry before spreading in an unruly mass between his legs. He allowed his fingers to comb through the thick curls before grasping the proud, hard length below in his fist. He groaned softly, his wordless sounds absorbed by the night, as he watched the scene in his brothers’ rooms. His breath became labored as he stroked the rigid manhood, which wept and throbbed within his hand. //Ianen bain…// he breathed. (how beautiful) *~*~*~*~* “Maethyren vyrn, did either of you beautiful fools think to simply ask?” (my dark warriors) The twins gaped in wide-eyed astonishment at the blond Elda as their jaws dropped in surprise at his words. Of all the responses, this was completely unforeseen. Upon their confession of the wager and their ruse, the best they had hoped for was forgiveness. At the worst, nay, better not to even think on it. Although the Peredhil twins were long past their majority, they could still barely suppress shudders of dread at the ominous raising of their Adar’s eyebrow. Elrond’s temper, while usually tightly controlled, was legendary in its ferocity. Glorfindel himself was not one to trifle with, either. “Do close your mouths, pin nith, you resemble two fish fresh-caught from the Bruinen, gawking at me thus.” Glorfindel’s blue eyes crinkled slightly at the corners as he smiled teasingly at them. (young ones) Elladan sighed in relief as Elrohir sagged visibly against his twin, leaning heavily into the warmth of his brother. True to form, Elladan was the first to recover and speak, as his younger twin twined an arm about his slim waist. “You are not angry, then? We are truly sorry, mellonen. We were wrong to attempt this deception. For all our years, we sometimes act like younglings entering fenneth.” He hung his head sheepishly, the relief he felt in Glorfindel’s acceptance visible in his demeanor. (my friend) Glorfindel again seated himself and pulled the two down to perch, one upon each knee facing each other, as he had done when they were small. The chair groaned precariously under their combined weight. They were children no longer, far from it, and the heavy weight resting upon each leg sent a thrill through his body. “Nay, I am not angry,” the Seneschal spoke softly. “In truth, long have I admired the adults you have grown to be. You have made us all proud. Your naneth would be most pleased if she were to see the Elves you have become.” Elrohir sat in silence as he observed the exchange between Elladan and the Seneschal. His emotions were in turmoil from the turn of events. “What now, then?” his voice faltered as he spoke. “Do we return, then, to as we were before? We have reached a point where our relationship has irrevocably changed. We cannot un-say what is said, nor un-do what is done. Where does this leave us?” He closed his eyes; dark lashes brushing his cheekbones as he pondered their actions of earlier in the evening. The wager had seemed so simple, so innocent. Warm breath caressed his neck as soft lips pressed to the pulse beating steadily at his throat. Elrohir felt a shiver course through his body as his eyelids snapped open, startled at the unexpected touch of lips against his skin. A mass of molten gold filled his vision, and he sighed softly as he arched his neck to invite further contact and allowed his eyes to close again in bliss. A soft, moist tongue tasted him delicately, fluttery butterfly wings upon the pulse point, only a whisper more than air. //Gods, he is intoxicating,// he thought, dazed, absorbed in the sensation of the tongue teasing his neck. Elrohir melted into the warm embrace of the blond. He had wanted this for so long, he was almost afraid to hope his long-unfulfilled desire could come to fruition. At last he forced open his eyes and met the amused gaze of his brother, boring into his and twinkling with mirth. “Does that answer your question, tôren?” (my brother) Glorfindel raised his head from where it nestled in the younger twin’s neck. His eyes gleaming wickedly as he roughly shoved the twins off his lap and stood. The chair groaning threateningly as it was released from the weight of three fully-grown Elves. “You two are not getting any less heavy, you know. Shall we move to someplace more suitable?” The two dark-haired Elves struggled to their feet, grasping the hands the blond one extended to them in assistance. “I shall surely have a bruise now,” Elrohir grumbled good-naturedly, wincing in slight discomfort as he rubbed his sore bottom. “I shall have to remedy that, pen velui,” Elladan purred seductively, reaching his free hand to caress his brother’s rear. “Shall I rub the pain away for you?” Elrohir playfully swatted his brother’s hand away before turning to face the Elda. His eyes turned serious. (lovely one) “Glorfindel, are you certain this is what you want?” It was not necessary for Elrohir to elaborate on “this”; there was no question in anyone’s mind where the night was headed. A small piece of Elrohir’s mind was still filled with apprehension. He worried that either Glorfindel played with them much as a cat worries a mouse before moving in for the kill, or that he had somehow fallen into a dream from which he would wake up humiliated and unable to face the Seneschal on the morrow. Blue eyes, darkened to the color of the depths of the sea, met his as Glorfindel spoke earnestly. “Elrohir, contrary to common belief, I do not take lovers lightly. I do not share my body readily with others. I choose carefully, sharing pleasure only with those whom I care about.” He leaned forward and claimed Elrohir’s full lips in a soft kiss, allowing his tongue to just tease those soft petals in a promise of things to come. “I care deeply about you and your brother. I have watched you mature from mischievous, troublesome Elflings into the rightful heir of Imladris,” he glanced at Elladan, and then returned his gaze to meet Elrohir’s, “and the future Captain of her defenses. I looked upon you first as swaddling infants, then as students, and finally as adults and equals.” He paused a moment, as if in consideration and licked his lips before continuing. “I have long admired you, the fighters and leaders you have become. Aye, I am sure. I would be pleased to share this night with you.” He amended, “The both of you.” It was important that the brethren knew Glorfindel was aware whatever happened this night would involve the three of them. There had been enough subterfuge, no matter how harmless, and he wanted to assure them he was not proceeding under false pretenses. Elladan wasted no more time. He had watched with growing interest as Glorfindel nuzzled his twin’s neck and was anxious to latch onto the other side of that slender column and drive his brother wild with lust. They occasionally took others to their beds, but it was his twin alone who could drive his passion spiraling to heights he could never reach with another. Reaching beside him blindly, he drew the form of his twin toward him and enfolded him in his arms, taking a step forward to press his brother’s back against the warmth of Glorfindel’s chest. He covered his brother’s lips with his own and gave him a long, deep kiss before raising his head and meeting Glorfindel’s eyes. “Haust. Si,” he commanded. “I would properly ravage my brother now.” (“Bed. Now.”) Their cards lay strewn about the table, their game forgotten. Elladan propelled them through the sitting room and into his adjoining bedchamber. Glorfindel trailed closely behind with a bemused expression on his handsome face. Mesmerized, he stood at the side of the bed watching as the two dark-haired Elves kissed passionately. //Aiya, they have no idea how striking they are together,// he thought idly. His leggings felt uncomfortably tight as he watched Elrohir slip one hand under his brother’s tunic to rub his chest. The younger twin moaned softly as Elladan nipped gently at the point of his ear. Elladan tore his lips from his brother’s ear and raised his head to look at Glorfindel with passion-darkened eyes as he queried, “Do you plan to simply stand there, or would you like to assist me?” Glorfindel crossed one arm over his broad chest and tapped the finger of the other hand against his temple, making a great show of feigned deep thought. Humor filled his voice as he responded. “Shall I let you two off the hook so easily? There seems to be the matter of a certain deception that lies between us. My honor has been besmirched and I shall claim recompense.” His eyes crinkled merrily. “If I am not mistaken, Elrohir, I believe you owe your brother.” Elrohir looked at the blond in momentary confusion. “One turn deserves another. Did he not pleasure you once already this night? I think it only fair you repay him in kind. That,” he proclaimed, “will be your punishment.” He nodded, satisfied, as both twins grinned. “Oh, aye, I agree, Híren; I am an honorable Elf and always repay my debts,” Elrohir agreed, blushing most becomingly. He reached again for his brother and drew Elladan’s tunic over his head before tossing it carelessly on the floor. (my Lord) Elladan laughed as he drew his younger twin to him. “He was in *such* a state, Glorfindel, I could not allow his discomfort to continue, for fear of his sanity.” He removed Elrohir’s shirt as well, then pulled his twin back down to the bed. Glorfindel quickly stripped off his own tunic, which also joined the growing pile of clothing. The mithril clasp that held his glorious mane from his face was set carefully on the beside table before he lay down beside the twins. Glorfindel drew his hands over their smooth bodies as he watched them embrace. Elrohir ran his tongue up his sibling’s chest before tracing a path from one rosy nipple to the other. Slowly, teasingly, never quite touching, he swirled in lazy circles around each straining bud. He caught one pebbled peak between his teeth, worrying it softly. Elladan gasped in pleasure-pain and wrapped his legs around Elrohir’s, rocking his pelvis against his brother’s hip. “We seem to have a bit of a problem, pen vara,” Elrohir whispered, between flicks of a tongue to his brother’s navel, while his fingers continued to tease the nipples his mouth so recently left. (eager one) “Ah, tôren, nay, I will surely perish if you stop now,” Elladan’s voice wavered as he arched his back in rapturous delight. (my brother) “You are wearing too many clothes.” “That is easily remedied, melethen,” Elladan’s fingers left his brother’s smooth chest and reached to untie his lacings, where they were stopped by a firm grasp. (my love) “Allow me,” Glorfindel bowed his head and drew Elladan’s full lower lip in between his teeth, suckling softly for a moment. “Aiya, you taste as sweet as your brother,” he sighed softly, before he reluctantly withdrew and moved to the foot of the bed to first draw off Elladan’s low boots, then his leggings. The older twin raised his hips obligingly, shivering in pleasure as the night air caressed his swollen arousal. Elrohir stood briefly and shucked off his own leggings. Glorfindel allowed his eyes to rake appraisingly over the forms, one lying provocatively, the other standing proudly nearby, their members already hard and leaking with arousal. They were nearly mirror images; the dark flâteithiol just below each navel, Elladan’s on the right of his abdomen and Elrohir’s on his left. It was unusual for Elves to mark themselves permanently in the manner of Men. The Elda admired the designs, very different yet obviously created by the same artisan. He would ask them someday what the designs symbolized. (“skin writing” – a loose translation of ‘tattoo’) Elrohir knelt at the foot of the bed. He lifted one of his brother’s feet and trailed his fingers over the arch and around the ankle before slipping one of the digits into his mouth and suckling sensuously. Elladan let out a strangled sound, somewhere between a giggle and a moan. The younger twin let the toe slip out of his mouth and began to kiss and lick a slow, torturous path up his brother’s leg. He slinked with feline grace up his twin’s body and finally knelt between his parted legs. Elladan let his thighs fall further and shivered in anticipation, as Elrohir tasted the sensitive skin of his groin. His brother was unparalleled in giving pleasure with his mouth. He cried out in surprise as his hard length was suddenly swallowed by Elrohir’s hot, wet cavern. “Ah, ‘Ro, you undo me,” he whimpered to his twin as Elrohir’s mouth sucked hard. Elrohir pulled back to the rounded crown and let his tongue circle the ridge. He flicked his tongue and tasted the drop of clear fluid that leaked from the tip and then leaned close to the blond Elda who watched with rapt attention. “Will you taste how pleasing my brother is, Glorfindel? Can you not see what it is about him that enthralls me so? How sweetly he surrenders to my touch?” He extended his tongue to the golden one, offering him a taste. Glorfindel let his own tongue slip forward through parted lips to take the proffered sweetness. “Aye, he is indeed appetizing. It is quite a pleasing combination of his seed mingled with the taste of your own sweet mouth,” he agreed as he drew back, savoring the flavor. The sight of his brother offering the Elf-lord his mouth caused Elladan to pant feverishly. He ground his ignored arousal against Elrohir’s leg, desperate for the friction he needed to bring him to his release. “Elrohir, please,” he whimpered, beyond caring that he was begging. //Glorfindel?// The Seneschal felt Elrohir’s cautious brush of thoughts against his mind and allowed the Peredhel entry. //Do you wish to participate?// //Nay, pen neth, for now I am content to watch,// the blond sent back, propping his head up on one hand. The other hand rubbed slow circles over the prominent bulge in his leggings. (young one) //As you wish, Híren,// responded Elrohir before lowering his head and running his tongue up the thick, pulsing vein on the underside of Elladan’s shaft. Eyes closed, he swirled his tongue around the velvety soft head and gave it a gentle lick before taking the whole length back in deeply. He relaxed his throat and pumped his head up and down over his brother’s aching member, swallowing and allowing the flat of his tongue to caress the shaft as he moved. (my Lord) Elladan groaned and began thrusting slowly upward into his twin’s mouth, running his hands through his brother’s dark hair. Elrohir opened his eyes and, with his gaze locked on the eyes turned pewter with need, began a rapid sucking motion. Elrohir understood his brother’s silent request and slowed the movement of his head, allowing the elder twin to plunder his mouth with his thrusting, keeping his cheeks hollowed and his lips tightly closed around the thick shaft. Elladan plunged harder and faster into Elrohir's mouth, and at last, with a low growl spilled himself deep in his brother’s throat, struggling to keep their eyes locked together. “That was incredible, seron vell,” he managed to croak as the after tremors of his orgasm shuddered through his body. (beloved) “Aye, it was indeed,” concurred Glorfindel, eyes midnight blue with desire as he leaned over Elladan’s trembling form to capture Elrohir’s swollen lips in a heated kiss. Tongues met in a wild duel as they struggled for dominance. The taste of Elladan’s seed, slightly bitter, mingled with the wine they had drunk filled the blond’s mouth as he ravaged Elrohir’s lips. ~*~*~* to be continued…~*~*~ CHAPTER SIX *~*~*~*~* And I need someone to love me I know you can Believe me when I tell you you can love me like a man - Bonnie Raitt *~*~*~*~* He sat in shadows, the dark night illuminated only by Ithil’s faint light. He had long suspected his foster brothers were lovers; this confirmation did not really come as a surprise. How many times had he returned from gathering wood during one of their travels to see the twins holding hands or wrapped together in a loving embrace? Rounded a corner of the Last Homely House and observed a stolen kiss, a lingering look? More often than not, across their shared campfire in the wilds, the twins woke entwined in a single bedroll, the second lying empty and forgotten nearby. It was the way of the Elves to love as they would, be they male or female. To love one another was the greatest gift bestowed upon the Firstborn by The One and there was no shame in any manner of its expression. The love between twins was revered above all; in time out of creation there was no love so rare, or so beautiful, as the bond shared by a single faer embodied by two. While he was of the Edain, he had been raised among the fair folk, as one of their kind, and saw no dishonor in any manner of loving. He watched them, enthralled and aroused by their splendor as they made love with the noble, fair-haired Seneschal. The sight brought a strange longing to his mortal heart. He wished he dared approach them, to simply knock on the door and confess his desire. To join with them. To share in a devotion so beautiful, so perfect… He longed for a love such as theirs, an enduring passion that transcended time. He dared not. So he watched. As the figures in the room took their pleasures within each other’s bodies, he lurked in the shadows. Silently, listening to the moans and the sounds of lovemaking drifting through the open window. He slowly stroked his manhood, matching his pace with that of the figures on the bed as they writhed and bucked against each other. When they reached their climaxes with roars of ecstasy, he spilled his seed hot upon his hand, stifling his own guttural cry with the heel of the other hand pressed tightly against his mouth. *~*~*~*~* Elladan lay spent between his brother and the Seneschal as he fought to control his breathing and slow his racing heart. The Peredhil twins had been lovers since shortly past their majority, but even after nearly two millennia, it still filled them with amazement that their lovemaking continued to become better. His eyes were glassy with spent passion as he watched Elrohir and Glorfindel kiss fiercely, tongues and lips clashing wildly. They were a study in light and dark: Glorfindel’s pale, golden, blue- eyed splendor a perfect complement for Elrohir’s ebony-haired, exotic beauty, his eyes almost midnight with yearning. Glorfindel rolled Elrohir onto his back and stretched his tall form upon the younger twin’s nude body, kissing him deeply. Golden tresses spilled across Elrohir’s lithe form as the warrior lowered his head and nipped the Peredhel’s neck between his teeth. He opened his mouth wide to take in as much of the creamy flesh as he could and sucked hard, marking Elrohir just above the collarbone. Elrohir whimpered in pain as the Elda chuckled wickedly. //He will be wearing a high-necked tunic tomorrow in spite of the summer’s heat,// Glorfindel thought with sly humor. //I wonder how he will explain that to his Adar.// The Seneschal rose on hands and knees and slithered seductively down Elrohir’s lean body. He was a great, golden lion on the prowl, feral and dangerous, wild tawny mane flowing about his head, a predatory glint in his eyes. The blond kissed and licked a hot, moist trail down his lover’s torso, and plunged his tongue into his navel, avoiding the swollen arousal lying hard and tight against the Peredhel’s stomach. He laved the flâteithiol scored in the skin with hot wet strokes of his tongue, fascinated by the marking. Warm breath teased Elrohir’s shaft, which strained and twitched at the promise of ecstasy within those pink lips, so close but altogether too far away. (“skin writing” – a loose translation of ‘tattoo’) Standing, Glorfindel kept his eyes focused on the dark beauties entangled on the bed. He toed off his boots and kicked them carelessly under the bed before untying the lacings on his breeches. He slid the soft leather slowly, sensuously down his lean hips, at last freeing his straining arousal. His heavy length sprang free, bobbing hard and proud as he slid the garment past muscled thighs and stepped gracefully out of them. Elladan claimed his twin’s bruised lips in a loving kiss, tasting his own seed. One hand toyed gently with the braids in Elrohir’s hair while the other traced slow, lazy circles around pebbled nipples. Elrohir’s hands tangled in his elder brother’s hair, deepening their kiss. His tongue explored the warm mouth that he knew so well. At last they broke apart, breathing heavily. The brethren drew their breath appreciatively at the toned, pale form that stood before them. In itself, the sight of Glorfindel half clothed was not unusual. The Seneschal often sparred shirtless with his warriors, but neither had ever seen the golden Elf-lord in quite this light before. Hard and ready. Glorfindel’s thoughts followed a similar path as he admired the lightly bronzed torsos of the twins. The passion evident in their kiss was easily one of the most erotic, arousing things he had ever witnessed. //By the mercy of the Valar, I will survive this night,// he prayed. //Mandos would not be pleased to have me gracing his halls again.// The Elda’s body tensed with anticipation. The Peredhil were virtually identical, only the inked spots near their groins and their hair preferences made it possible to tell them apart tonight. Elrohir wore a few small decorative braids in his raven locks; Elladan’s thick tresses fell nearly to the small of his back, loose and flowing. Elladan noticed that the draperies covering the windows parted, allowing the warm night breezes to flow throughout the room. “Glorfindel, would you mind drawing the draperies? Remember, Estel’s rooms are directly across from ours; I would hate to think we were unwittingly giving our foster brother a show,” he said between kisses to the smooth skin of his brother’s neck. Glorfindel glanced briefly at the darkened window and shrugged. “Dear Estel was sleeping like a babe when I left him. He will not be rising any time soon. If he is seen before the noon hour on the morrow, I will be surprised.” He added smoothly, “Or perhaps he will wake, and believe playing with us is much preferable to sleep.” “Glorfindel!” cried Elrohir, shocked beyond reason. “He is our brother! Oof…” He winced as a sharp elbow jabbed him painfully in the ribs. “’Ro, I believe Glorfindel is, as the humans, say, ‘pulling your leg’,“ chided Elladan, who received an impressive impersonation of their Adar’s raised eyebrow in response. Glorfindel snorted with laughter as he reached for the twins’ extended hands, further thoughts of windows and draperies driven from their minds. The Peredhil drew the blond back to the bed to lie between them. He lay on his back with the twins reclined on either side of him. All traces of humor were gone, replaced by looks of rapt interest as their eyes and hands roamed his body appraisingly. Glorfindel closed his eyes and surrendered to the touches that meandered freely over the defined muscles of his chest and the flat plane of his stomach. A warm mouth closed over his, the tongue teasing his lips before slipping between the pink petals of flesh. He leaned up, straining, trying to deepen the kiss, but the wayward tongue withdrew and snaked across his cheek to then close over the gold ring piercing his left earlobe. The mouth closed around it and gave a gentle tug before moving on. A slow, torturous path was traced up the pink shell before closing over the elegant pointed tip and suckling gently. //Elladan… Elladan is on the left,// he thought, distracted, as shivers of yearning wracked his frame. A second warm, wet tongue teased his right nipple before sucking it in firmly. //That is Elrohir… Gods, his mouth is magic.// Fingernails lightly abraded the other pebbled nub and he drew his breath sharply between his teeth at the sensation. “You are wicked Elves,” he managed to spit out, and received only matching throaty chuckles in reply. He gasped when a strong hand closed suddenly over his leaking shaft and gave a quick, experimental stroke before quickly withdrawing. Another warm hand gently cupped the soft pouch below his arousal and deftly massaged the firm orbs within. He spread his legs wider, hips thrusting into empty air. He yearned for contact, something to ease the fire than grew ever hotter in his loins. He writhed on the bed and whimpered softly as trails of slick heat traced paths over his ribs, down his abdomen, leaving paths of kisses and nips in their wake. Hands fondled and caressed the long lean body, following the fluid lines of muscles that were hard and strong from years of training. Calloused fingertips pinched and tweaked his aching nipples. Glorfindel soon lost track of which hands and lips belonged to which of his lovers as they mercilessly teased him to the brink of insanity, with only an occasional touch to the pulsing, throbbing member that lay taut against his stomach. The Seneschal keened softly as his weeping arousal was suddenly engulfed in a hot, wet mouth. He thrust his hips, trying to gain further entry into that heat, but hands pressed his pelvis firmly against the bed. Reluctantly he stilled his motion, his body at the mercy of the raven-haired tormenters who held his body prisoner. One mouth sucked him relentlessly, drawing up the length just to the round crown before plunging back down nearly to the fine, soft hair that dusted the base. A second nestled deeply between his widespread legs lapping at his sac, drawing first one fleshy orb into his mouth, then the other. His hands clawed at the sheets; his body twisted of its own accord. He sought to end the delicious assault on his senses as he was brought to the edge of orgasm and back. Six… seven times; he had long since lost count. Each wave of pleasure transported him closer and closer to that pinnacle, so close but never quite within reach. The Elda had taken countless lovers over the millennia, but never in his long years had he been overcome by such raging, consuming fire. He wanted, nay, *needed*, this release – to be taken apart, laid bare, remade. His cries were pleading, incoherent, as he wept and begged for something, anything to end the furious inferno that ripped through him. “Ai, please, Elladan… Elrohir… end this, I need to come, please…” The Seneschal’s words were broken and harsh with need as he strained upward into that glorious heat. His arousal wept steadily, balls drawn up tight to his body, aching for release. Glorfindel cried aloud in dismay as the hot mouth encircling his shaft was suddenly withdrawn and the warm heat teasing his sac disappeared, leaving him painfully hard and quivering with unspent desire. “Not yet, pen vara,” one of his tormenters whispered, grasping his straining erection firmly by the base and gripping tightly to prevent his release. The Elda stilled his motions and struggled to regain some control of his unruly body. (eager one) Somewhere in the last remaining fiber of conscious he registered the quiet scraping of a drawer being opened and the dull clink of glass. Then cool liquid trickled along his member, a strong finger following the slick rivulets through the downy blond hair, over the tight sac drawn close to his body, and traveling lower to the puckered entrance below. The finger traced a circle around the pink, wrinkled flesh that quivered in anticipation. A single digit inched slowly into that tight channel and stopped at the first knuckle. Glorfindel groaned, then hissed in frustration at the gentle penetration when the finger stubbornly refused to advance. He pushed down and impaled himself fully on the finger straight to the knuckle. He heard a low chuckle from one of the twins before Elladan whispered, “My, you are an eager one, are you not?” A second finger joined the first, stretching and scissoring. A third was quickly added, twisting and circling, searching for the tiny nub that would bring so much delight. The blond gasped in pleasure as the questing fingers found their target, stroking and rubbing. It was agony, wonderful, blissful agony. The Peredhil worked his body as it had never been before and brought him to heights he’d never imagined possible. The elder Elf forced open eyelids heavy with passion as Elrohir spoke softly. “We would have you now, Glorfindel, if you would permit us. Do you have a preference? Would you have me take you, or would you prefer my brother’s touch?” The golden warrior moistened his dry lips and struggled to speak, his blue eyes glazed dark with passion as he gazed down his over sensitized body. He met the smoldering eyes of Elrohir, fingers still embedded deeply within the blond. His voice was husky and raw with need. “I would have you, Elrohir. Take me, claim me.” “Aye, melethen, as you wish.” Elrohir leaned into his brother, keeping his fingers in place. He plundered Elladan’s mouth in a heated kiss before pulling back and instructing his twin to lean against the headboard. (my love) Elladan groaned in frustration as he extricated himself from the tangle of limbs and moved to the head of the bed. He lay back against the pillows and slowly began stroking his weeping erection, never pulling his eyes from his brother. //Do not fret, tôren, we will not forget about you.// Elrohir’s silent admonishment was slightly teasing when he gave his brother a roguish wink. (my brother) Elrohir removed his fingers and knelt beside Glorfindel’s hips. “Raise your legs, meleth,” he commanded, then placed the raised feet against his shoulders with knees bent and forced back against the blond’s own chest. The tiny pink opening was fully exposed, slightly open and glistening with slick oil. The position afforded deep, strong penetration, something Elrohir would never consider with a less experienced lover lest he cause undue pain. He braced his lover’s feet firmly, and coated his own length with the viscous fluid before tossing the vial to his brother, who caught it one-handed. (love) He moved forward and positioned his throbbing length at the entrance to Glorfindel’s body. With a steady, long, slow push he buried himself balls-deep into that fiery passage. Glorfindel tensed at the sudden intrusion, keening softly in discomfort against the burning sensation as he willed his body to relax. The strong muscles of his passage constricted tightly against the invading flesh. Elrohir squeezed his eyes shut and fought against the need to begin thrusting into that magnificent pale body. //Mordor’s flames, El, he is so wonderfully tight…// Elrohir’s voice was strangled with barely-controlled need as he sought to reassure the Elda. “Relax, pen vain, I will not harm you. Tell me when you are ready.” He forced himself to remain motionless, his body quaking, to allow his lover’s body to become accustomed to his size. (beautiful one) The Seneschal breathed deeply for a few moments to allow the tension to seep from his body. Gradually the searing pain gave way to only mild discomfort as the tight ring of muscle relaxed to accommodate the intruder, leaving a feeling of being almost overwhelmingly full. Carefully he nodded, a silent signal to the Peredhel of his readiness. Remaining deeply embedded, Elrohir slowly began to move in small thrusts. Glorfindel winced slightly, his lips pursed at the lingering discomfort. His lover changed the angle slightly and brushed against the nub inside that tight channel, sending a bolt of white heat through his body and sparks behind his eyelids. The Elda’s eyes flew open wide as he arched his neck and yelped in pleasure. The remaining discomfort eroded, leaving only waves of pleasure in its wake. “Ah, yes… Elrohir…” the blond moaned, rolling his head side to side as his lover began longer thrusts, taking care to brush that pleasure spot only every second or third stroke. “Your sighs and moans are enthralling, pen velui. I would have you cry my name a hundred times and still crave to hear more,” Elrohir murmured to his lover, thrusting slowly and deeply into Glorfindel’s tight body. (lovely one) The Elda’s hands thrummed helplessly against the sheets, desperate to touch and bring himself to completion. He was unable to get his hands between their bodies to stroke his aching arousal, and finally gripped Elrohir’s forearms tightly as the Peredhel rocked into him, long and deep. The pleasure was almost unbearable and he begged his lover to end it. Elrohir raked his eyes over Elladan’s form, lounged against the headboard and slowly pleasuring himself as he watched them. //Are you enjoying yourself, melethen?// It took a moment for Elrohir to realize his brother was addressing him. The younger twin’s thoughts were garbled as he allowed Elladan fully into his mind. It was becoming increasingly difficult to breath, let alone think as he moved within the blond’s tight heat. (my love) //Aye, tôren, very much so. You, however, look a bit lonely, although you do present a fetching vision as you pleasure yourself.// Elrohir made a sudden decision and again spoke into his twin’s mind. //Prepare yourself, El, and make it good,// and allowed his brother a vision of what he had in mind. (my brother) Elladan’s eyes widened as he saw the mental picture his twin showed him, and grinned wolfishly. //Aye, I can do that,// he agreed. Glorfindel barked in surprise when his lover’s hand suddenly smacked him soundly on the bottom. “Up you go, pen vain, on your hands and knees,” Elrohir directed and pulled abruptly out of the blond’s body, moving away and allowing Glorfindel’s upraised legs to drop to the bed. (beautiful one) The Elda protested in dismay at the loss of the thick length filling him and grudgingly rolled over, raising his trembling body to rest upon hands and knees. His dusky arousal hung heavily between his thighs, untouched and weeping. He dropped his chin to his chest, veiling his flushed and sweating face with flaxen hair that clung to his damp skin. He wiggled his bottom in encouragement and rocked backward searching for that hard member that had filled him so delightfully moments ago. He tossed his head to flick the clinging hair from his face and lifted his head. And stared. Elladan still lay at the head of the bed, his upper body supported by pillows, but he lay with knees bent to the side, his pink puckered opening completely exposed to view. As his audience watched in lustful attention, he upended the vial and drizzled a trickle of oil over his fingers. He seductively licked his lips and reached behind him to slide a slick finger into his backside. He moaned as he pumped the finger in and out, then slid a second in beside the first. His eyes rolled back in bliss as he rocked his hips, riding his own fingers. A third was added to the slippery passage, stretching and lubricating. The Peredhel put on a show worthy of the most sought-after courtesan in all of Gondor. He lowered his gaze and stared piercingly at Glorfindel, a silent challenge issuing from his gray eyes. Elrohir pressed a kiss against the small of Glorfindel’s back before kneeling behind and sheathing himself again in the blond’s tight channel. Elrohir languorously swayed against his lover as he watched Elladan’s preparation with keen interest. He was as familiar with his brother’s body as he was his own, and knew Glorfindel would not last long sheathed in Elladan’s sinful depths. Elladan withdrew his fingers and slinked across the bed with feline grace toward Glorfindel. Reaching the blond, he captured his lips in a searing kiss. His tongue swirled around Glorfindel’s wet heat, chasing and teasing before he finally pulled back, leaving the Elda panting. The Peredhel lapped at the Elf-lord’s sweat-slicked neck, tasting, the tang of fresh sweat and honey. He opened his mouth wide just below the blond’s ear and sucked hard, leaving a dark passion mark. Glorfindel gasped as his overheated skin was sucked and pulled. Elladan whispered mischievously, his breath caressed the blond’s ear, “Retribution for marking my beautiful brother,” before he gave a final lick to the tip of the pointed ear and moved away. Elrohir lifted Glorfindel’s body so the blond was almost upright, impaled deeply on the Peredhel’s hard length. Elladan turned and wriggled backward toward Glorfindel, who took his own throbbing erection in hand and pressed the blunt head against Elladan’s slick, prepared opening. The elder twin slowly pushed back, impaling himself upon Glorfindel’s flesh. At that moment, Elrohir thrust deeply into the Elda, propelling Glorfindel forward to sheath himself fully in Elladan’s tight passage. Elladan was well prepared and was able to accept Glorfindel’s ample length easily and with little discomfort. He murmured in appreciation as Glorfindel’s thick shaft filled him. Their position was awkward, but with a bit of wiggling and repositioning, the lovers managed to settle into a configuration that worked reasonably well. Elrohir set a brutal pace, able no longer to hold back his ardor. He tangled his hands through Glorfindel’s glorious tawny locks and pounded roughly into the ivory body beneath him. He withdrew almost fully from the blond before plunging back in to the hilt. His breath came in panting gasps, words of passion in Elvish and Westron spilling from his lips as he drove his lovers ever closer to their peaks. Glorfindel met the Peredhel’s thrusts eagerly with frantic counter-thrusts, each forward motion sheathing his heated flesh again and again into Elladan’s velvet depths. Each of Elrohir’s strokes sent white heat through his loins, bringing him closer and closer to that elusive release and forcing a mewl of desire from his lips. Fell and desperate, he was almost mad with need. Liquid fire tore through his veins, his mind void of all thought save putting an end to this sweet agony. Elladan, pinned almost motionless by the solid weight of two bodies atop his, braced his arms against the bed, helpless to do anything but revel in the sensation of being filled by Glorfindel’s heavy length. His own second release was close and the only thing he could do was lie passively, struggling to breathe, and allow his mind to wander through that of his brother’s, their ever-present connection strong now. It fascinated him to mentally hear his twin’s garbled, random bits of conscious bleed through unadulterated need. And the waves of raw lust that roiled around the periphery of the Elda’s mind was enough to take what remained of his breath away and propel him closer to his own completion. In the throes of passion, the blond opened his mind to the Peredhil and allowed the three to meld as they neared their climaxes. Glorfindel reached his release first, his long- denied orgasm tearing through his body, a primal scream ripped from his chest. Tremors wracked his long frame as he pumped his seed deep into Elladan’s body. His body shuddered with spasms of bliss, nearly blinding him with its intensity. His inner muscles clenched and undulated with the force of his orgasm, wrenching a mind-blowing climax from Elrohir. Elrohir threw back his head and howled as he was hurled over the edge, eyes clenched tightly. He thrust hard into the Elda’s quivering passage, straining, his seed flooding the Seneschal’s body in hot spurts. Elladan’s own release closely followed. The swirling maelstrom of lust that flooded his mind from his lovers was enough to send him plummeting into the abyss. He spilled himself onto the sheets with a long groan, his member untouched but for the friction of the bed coverings beneath him. Spent and exhausted, they collapsed to the bed, sweaty and sticky with the evidence of their passion. They lay entangled, dark against light, panting as they struggled to catch their breath. Elrohir relaxed into the warmth surrounding him as strong arms encircled him from front and behind. He wrapped his arms around his brother and leaned his head back, nestling the crown of his head under Glorfindel’s chin. The Elda kissed the top of his head gently and snuggled closer, his softening member pressed firmly against the cleft of Elrohir’s buttocks. The younger twin felt the steady thumping of his brother’s heart against his, echoed by Glorfindel’s beating steadily against his back. He felt a sense of perfect contentment. “Melin chen, maethyren vain,” Elrohir murmured drowsily. His lovers nestled closer to the warmth of his body as they whispered words of love to one another. How odd, each thought, that a simple game of cards and a ridiculous wager could end up in a moment such as this? (“I love you, my beautiful warriors,”) They did not know what the morrow would bring, but for now, the night was enough. Sated and content, the three drifted into reverie as the candles sputtered and went out, leaving only Ithil’s pale light to bathe them in a soft glow. *~*~*~*~* Anor had nearly reached her zenith by the time Estel rolled from his bed, mussed and tangled and sticky from his own seed. He washed and dressed quickly before hurrying to the dining hall to belatedly break his fast. His brothers and the Seneschal were absent, he noted with mixed dismay and relief as he filled a plate with light fare and settled into a quiet alcove. He ate slowly, deep in thought, memories of the evening before fresh in his mind. At last he sighed deeply and rose, setting out in search of his foster brothers. “…ing, Estel.” the young Man started when he heard the Chief Counselor’s melodious voice, so lost in his musings he was. Erestor continued, “I bear tidings from the Lords Elladan and Elrohir. They have gone a-hunting and bade me inform you they knocked upon your chamber door early this morn, desiring your company. When you did not answer, they allowed you to sleep and said they will join you this eve in the Hall of Fire.” “Hannon chen, my Lord,” the young Man answered, dipping his head and resting his right fist upon his heart in a sign of respect to the Elf-lord. “What of Lord Glorfindel? Did he join them as well?” (Thank you) “Nay, Lord Glorfindel has been closeted with Lord Elrond most of the day with the ambassadors of Lothlórien. I am just now on my way to join them,” the Counselor replied, bidding Estel a good day before taking his leave. Estel greeted the Lady Gilraen in the hallway and spoke with her briefly before retiring again to his chambers, quite ready to spend a day of quiet contemplation after such revealing events of the past few days. He returned to his rooms and idled away the remainder of the afternoon reading and reflecting. As dusk drew nigh he grew restive and determined a walk by the river would remedy the unsettled feeling that lingered within him. He strolled through the glades of Imladris, relishing the lingering warmth of Anor’s light caressing his skin as she descended over the horizon. Refreshed, he sang softly to himself. “…And suddenly even as he sang he saw a maiden walking on a greensward among the white stems of the birches; and he halted amazed, thinking that he had strayed into a dream, or else that he had received the gift of the Elf-minstrels, who can make the things of which they sing appear before the eyes of those that listen. For [he] had been singing a part of the Lay of Lúthien which tells of the meeting of Lúthien and Beren in the forest of Neldoreth. And behold! there Lúthien walked before his eyes in Rivendell, clad in a mantle of silver and blue, fair as the twilight in Elven-home; her dark hair strayed in a sudden wind, and her brows were bound with gems like stars.” Estel, Aragorn, Arathorn’s son, Isildur’s heir, Lord of the Dúnedain, found his enduring passion. ~*~*~ finis ~*~*~