Title: An Affliction of the Heart, 7/?    
Author: Larien Elengasse
Type:	FPS
Characters: Legolas/Elladan/Elrohir, Glorfindel/Thranduil
Rating:	 NC-17 for slashy goodness - eventually
Beta: Minuial Nuwing – you’re the best, darling!
Archive: OEAM, Library of Moria, Melethryn.  All others please ask.

WARNING: Graphic depictions of sexual acts between half-elven twins and a 
prince, and between a warrior and a king.  Allusions to violence. Brotherly 
incest. Rampant angst.
 
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they are the property of JRR Tolkien 
and his estate, and I am sure he would be horrified if he read this.

Author’s Notes: The twins come to Greenwood with Glorfindel to expand their 
education and everyone learns more than was intended.  Yet another 
exploration of the dangers and delights of love – I’m nothing if not a hopeless 
romantic.  Canon disclaimer is in place, as always.  The Donne poem quoted at 
the start is one of the Holy Sonnets, however, I think that in lieu of God, Love 
would stand quite well.
 
Feedback: If you care to share, larienelengasse@yahoo.com

Summary: Lessons continue and trouble looms.

Glorfindel’s absence at the king’s table was conspicuous that night, but none 
were so foolish as to inquire about the Noldo’s whereabouts.  Equally 
conspicuous was Thranduil’s grim mood, as much as he tried to conceal it.  
Despite Glorfindel’s efforts to be discreet, Greenwood was a small realm and 
word had quickly spread that he and the king were lovers.

While Thranduil’s mood was dour, the glances and concealed grins that passed 
between the twins and Legolas made for fresh gossip as to what might be going 
on between the three.  As usual, Thranduil retired to the sitting area by the great 
hearth after the meal to talk politics with his advisors, and the twins joined the 
prince on the other side of the room, where they caroused with Greenwood’s 
finest warriors.

Unable to concentrate on the conversation at hand, Thranduil excused himself 
and returned to his chambers, hoping beyond hope that he would find 
Glorfindel there.  When he did not, he changed out of his formal robes, 
removed his crown, and donned riding breeches and a simple tunic.  Braiding 
his hair behind his head as he used to do when he was a warrior-prince and 
pulling a cloak around his shoulders, he left his chambers and sought the Elda 
outside the caves.

He found Glorfindel sitting on a low hill, gazing up at the stars through a break 
in the thick canopy of trees.  For a long time Thranduil was content to just look 
at the Elda.  Never in all his years had he seen one so beautiful.  The warrior’s 
hair, for which he had been named as an elfling ages ago, was the color of pure 
gold and hung in long wavy strands around his shoulders.  His eyes were the 
color of the sea, a deep, rich blue, and his skin was a soft, pale ivory hue.  
Thranduil much admired the Elda’s body, for it was beyond compare – he was 
taller than many and powerfully built, each muscle in perfect proportion to the 
others.  Beyond his physical beauty, Glorfindel had an astounding intellect, 
though he often chose to downplay his wisdom.  He had a wicked sense of 
humor, when he cared to reveal it, and a heart like a lion.  No one doubted 
Glorfindel’s bravery or sense of honor and duty – those things were well known 
among both elves and men.

As Thranduil looked at the warrior, it was the Elda’s heart that concerned him 
most.  In a fit of uncharacteristic anger, Glorfindel had revealed that he loved 
him.  Thranduil wondered if the Elda even remembered saying it.  Love was 
something that clearly frightened Glorfindel, and Thranduil had to admit, it 
scared him as well.  Truth be told, he did not feel worthy of the love of so 
magnificent an elf – which was perhaps why he had kept Glorfindel at arms 
length for so many months.

True, there was little about each other’s bodies that they did not know – for 
example, there was a spot on the back of Glorfindel’s neck that caused him to 
purr like a cat when suckled, and Thranduil had a place just behind his left ear 
that caused him to shiver when Glorfindel brushed it with his thumb.  But for as 
well as they knew one another’s bodies, their hearts were undiscovered country.  

‘How could he love one like me - an inept ruler, a simple warrior thrust onto the 
throne because my father died?  How could I possibly compare to an elf like 
Elrond, who is respected and loved by all?  How could Glorfindel love me?’

These questions and more crowded Thranduil’s thoughts, causing a lump to 
form in his throat and an ache to blossom in his chest as he watched the Elda.  
He wanted so badly to kneel at Glorfindel’s feet and beg forgiveness; yet the 
one thing that had sustained him since he took the throne would not allow it – 
and that was his insufferable pride.

‘Why can I not just be who I once was?  Why can I not be that prince who 
sought the comfort of a wise warrior’s arms the night my father died?  Why can 
I not be who I was then?  That is who he loves, but that elf is dead.’

Glorfindel’s gaze lit upon him and he stepped from the shadows, approaching 
the Elda slowly.

“I promise you, I could never think of you as a whore,” he said quietly.  “Not 
you, never you.”

“Perhaps I overreacted,” Glorfindel replied.  “I am merely . . . frustrated.”

Thranduil sat down beside the Elda.  “It is my fault.  I thought you were 
enjoying the attention.  I thought you liked it that I want you so often.”

Glorfindel took a deep breath.  “We have known one another for a long time, 
yes?”

“Aye, we have.”

“And we have made love every night since I came to your realm.”

Thranduil resisted the urge to smile.  “Yes.”

“Is there anything about my body that you do not know?”

“No, I dare say there is not.”

“And there is little about your body that I do not know.  Yet, for all that 
knowledge, I do not know you, and you do not know me.  It is this that 
frustrates me.  I know I should not feel this way, for you made your intentions 
clear when I arrived…”

Thranduil placed his hand upon Glorfindel’s arm.  “But intentions change, do 
they not?”

“They do.  Have yours?”

Thranduil sighed.  “I…” he closed his eyes and summoned his courage, 
“…please do not make fun of this…”

Glorfindel moved closer and placed his arm around Thranduil’s shoulders.  “I 
would never do such.”

“I am afraid if I reveal too much you will not like what you see.  I am afraid 
that if I share too much, you will find that I do not live up to your 
expectations.”

Glorfindel nodded and ran his hand over the thick braid that hung down 
Thranduil’s back.  “You have not worn your hair like this in many a year.”

“I seemed to remember that you liked it this way.”

“I do.  It reminds me of when you were young.”  He sighed.  “You have always 
been so beautiful.  I have always thought you were breathtaking to look at.”

Thranduil smiled a little as he focused his gaze on the grass.  “I have felt the 
same about you.”

Glorfindel turned his head and nuzzled the curve of the king’s ear.  “The Valar 
know that you are a stubborn one, you have always been such, and proud, so 
proud, as if you need no one.  We all need someone from time to time, 
Thranduil – I know I do.”

Thranduil closed his eyes and placed his hand upon the warrior’s thigh.  “I do 
not deserve you; I do not know how you could ever love…”

Glorfindel placed his fingers upon Thranduil’s lips.  “Sssshhh… You let me 
decide who I will love.”  He cupped the king’s cheek and drew his lips to his 
own.  

“I will not ask you to die for me, Glorfindel,” Thranduil murmured as the 
warrior’s breath fanned his mouth.

“Ask or no, it is a thing I would most gladly do,” he answered before pressing a 
deep kiss to the king’s lips.

*    *    *    *

Legolas stood next to the bed as the twins slowly undressed him.

“It is time for your pupils to show you that they have learned their lessons 
well,” Elrohir said softly, gently combing his fingers through the prince’s 
unbraided locks.

“Aye, my prince,” Elladan joined in as he slid the robe from Legolas’ 
shoulders.  “We wish to be apt pupils and make you proud.”

Legolas smiled, enjoying the attentions that the twins heaped upon him.  “Well, 
then I am ready for your demonstration.”

“Excellent,” Elladan replied with a wolfish grin, and then he playfully shoved 
Legolas to the bed.

Elrohir circled around behind the prince and gathered Legolas in his arms, 
urging the prince to his knees and pushing his flaxen hair over his shoulder.  
“You have fine skin,” he said softly, “smooth and flawless, and it tastes like 
cream.”

Legolas closed his eyes and purred in appreciation as Elrohir’s full lips caressed 
the vein that pulsed in his neck.  “Mmm… such a talented mouth already.  My 
mind races at the possibilities.”

Elrohir smiled and reached up, guiding Legolas’ lips to his own.  “I hope I live 
up to your expectations,” he murmured, then pressed a kiss to the prince’s 
mouth.  Releasing Legolas’ lips he said softly, “You like a soft touch too.”

“I like your touch, however you choose to give it.”

Elladan’s mouth explored his chest, a warm wet tongue slowly circling then 
fondling the small ring that pierced his nipple.  Legolas hissed with pleasure, 
then barked in surprise as the peredhil bit down. 

“Too hard, Elladan,” Elrohir chided, his hands slowly caressing Legolas’ arms.  
“Remember what he said – to watch and listen…”

“Forgive me, my prince,” Elladan murmured, gently laving the prince’s swollen 
nipple.

“Mmm… forgiven, my wolf,” Legolas answered in a low, smooth purr.

Elladan rose and looked into Legolas’ deepening blue eyes.  “My wolf . . . I like 
that.”

“That is what you are like, a wolf – crafty, beautiful, and dangerous.”

Elladan smiled and clasped the back of Legolas’ head, pressing a punishing kiss 
to the prince’s mouth.  Legolas yielded and moaned into the kiss, opening his 
mouth wide and allowing Elladan a thorough exploration.  

As Elladan released him, he said, “His desires are not as gentle as you think, 
little brother.”  

Elrohir grasped Legolas’ jaw and turned his head, fixing his gaze upon the 
prince’s deep azure eyes.

“Does my brother speak true?”  He slid his arm around Legolas’ waist and 
pulled the prince against his chest roughly.  “Am I treating you too kindly?”

Legolas smiled as he felt Elrohir’s burgeoning arousal press into his backside. 
“As I said, I will take whatever you choose to give.  Use me as you wish.”

“I will make love to you, my prince, not use you.  I would never use you.”  He 
nuzzled Legolas’ mouth then pressed a deep kiss to his lips.  The shudder that 
wracked Legolas’ lean, muscular frame caused him to smile into the kiss.  
“Your body tells me that I please you,” Elrohir whispered.

“You do, my Elf-knight, you surely do,” Legolas murmured in reply.

Legolas felt Elladan’s warm mouth exploring his belly and he looked down.

“I hope we both do,” Elladan answered.

The look in Elladan’s eye caused Legolas’ arousal to twitch.  The elder twin 
was certainly a brave lover, and a dangerous one.  Gazing into eyes the color of 
a storm-filled sky, Legolas answered, “Of that I have no doubt.”


To be continued…