Title: Diplomacy, Part 1 Author: Ellbee Author's Email: ellbee_g@hotmail.com Pairing(s): Elladan/Elrohir/Legolas Rating: NC-17 Summary: Legolas is reacquainted with the Twins. Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings and all the characters therein are owned by Tolkien's estate and whomever they've sold a piece of the pie to. I know – Tolkien…grave…spinning. Warning: Mild twincest Authors Note: Written with a good deal of help from Jennifer Lee. Diplomacy Part 1 Legolas sighed in contentment, listening to the birds and the sounds of the trees outside the open window. He supposed he ought to think about getting out. But the water was so relaxing, and he was so very tired. He and a small company had been tasked with carrying various messages from Mirkwood to Imladris, and the journey had been a difficult one. The had been much orc activity recently, and they had made what could be a lazy, comfortable two week journey in little more than half that time. They had ridden like demons through the mountains, stopping only when their horses needed rest. But the hard ride and the constant vigilance had taken their toll, and now he felt desperately tired. He had opted first for a bath in one of Lord Elrond's well-appointed bathing rooms, and was reluctant to leave it. The water had cooled considerably, but it felt refreshing in the increasing heat of the summer morning. The third time he startled awake to find the water lapping at his mouth he decided he had better finish and dry off. It would be very rude of him to drown in Elrond's bathtub, and his father would never believe it was an accident. Swiping his wet hair out of his face, he levered himself out of the water. He listened absently to the hum of voices outside the door as he slowly dressed in leggings and a loose tunic, leaving his feet bare. He had been aware for some time that at least two people stood just outside this door. Though they spoke softly, they made no attempt to hide their presence, and he had not concerned himself with them. There were many of these rooms in Elrond's house, he could hardly imagine he was keeping someone from a bath. So he was not startled when he opened the door, but he was pleasantly surprised to find the two brothers of the house. The last time he had been here he had only just met the twins, before being unexpectedly called home, and so had not been able to get to know them well. But he found them fascinating, though he could not say exactly why. They were very fair of face, it was true, with a square-jawed, grey-eyed, masculine beauty. And he knew they were fierce and deadly in battle, he had heard many tales of their exploits. Perhaps they were so interesting simply because there were two of them, so very alike that at first glance they seemed identical. He calmly shut the door and faced them, but before he could greet them, one of the twins spoke. "Welcome to Imladris, Prince Legolas. It is long since you have honored this house," he said, the friendliness and good humor in his eyes belying the formality of his words. The other said, "But perhaps you do not remember us." Legolas replied with a polite bow, "I prefer no title, if you please. I am only Legolas. Of course I remember you, Elladan. I thank you for your welcome, I am more glad than I can say to be here again." Elladan laughed softly. "Oh, you are very good. Is he not, brother?" "He certainly is," Elrohir said. "Or perhaps you are guessing? We have met only briefly before." "Tell us the truth," Elladan pressed with a grin, "is it a lucky guess? Even most other elves cannot tell us apart on such short acquaintance." "You are very similar, it is true, in the way that two leaves from the same tree are similar. But there are differences enough for anyone who would look," Legolas answered. He had no intention of revealing to him how he knew; let them guess. "Ah, but when have you had the chance?" Legolas's mind flew back to that first meeting, several years ago. He had received the summons from Mirkwood, and intended to set out immediately after a quick breakfast. He had seen the two riders from a window as he went down, and had known instantly that these must be Elrond's sons. They had been weary, sore, and dusty from their labors, but had insisted on joining him for breakfast. Elrond was far too well bred to apologize for his sons' appearance, but Legolas had read the exasperation in his face. It amused him, for he took it as a compliment to himself. Though their self-appointed road was a hard one, full of blood and vengeance, they had been surprisingly pleasant and clever company, with none of the bitterness or low-spirits he might have expected. They intrigued him mightily, but his departure cut short the acquaintance, and he had not seen them since. He smiled. "Only that one chance, long ago. But I have not forgotten." The twins shared a thoughtful look, and Legolas continued, "I was very sorry I had to leave so soon last time I was here, without furthering our friendship." Elrohir lifted an eyebrow. "Would you like to? We also regretted your last visit was cut short. Truth to tell, we have very much looked forward to seeing you again." "Very much," his brother echoed. They stood very close, Elladan with his hands crossed over his chest, Elrohir leaning an arm on the door near Legolas's head, neither quite touching him. Their eyes were undemanding, yet he could feel the warmth of their bodies, and felt an answering a tingling at the base of his spine. He longed to accept their offer, but it would be unfair of him to lie. "You are very kind. But I fear I am too weary to be good company." "You mistake us." "Indeed you do. We ask nothing of you." "We wish only to show you the hospitality due an honored guest." "There is food, and wine, and comfort to be had." "Say you will." Legolas looked from one twin to the other as they spoke, their words a gentle and persuasive volley. As he licked his lips indecisively, he felt rather than heard their almost silent sighs, and his decision was made. "It would be extremely ill-bred of me to turn down such generosity, and I am very much attached to food and wine and comfort." Their eyes lit up at his words, though their outward demeanor remained polite and calm. "Excellent." "Please, come this way." The twins politely bowed him down the hall, leading him through a maze of hallways and up a wide stair. Elrohir opened a carved door at the end of the landing and ushered Legolas in. He took a step into the room, and heard the soft snick of the door shutting. And then both the brothers were close beside him, bearing him gently backward. He let his head drop back to rest against the wood of the door and gave them a lazy smile. Once again he felt hemmed in by the nearness, the warmth of their bodies. Elrohir leaned in slowly, but still did not touch him. "It has been far too long since you last visited," he whispered. "I---" his voice was not working very well, so Legolas swallowed and tried again. "I regret my long absence as well. But our fathers---" "Ah, yes. It is deplorable that there is this antagonism, between them. After all these long years, one would think that they could forget old grievances," Elladan said, suddenly absorbed in tucking Legolas's damp hair behind his ear just so. Legolas swiveled his eyes to Elladan, but the sensation of gentle fingers on the tip of his ear was so pleasant he had no mind to protest. "It is not right that we should be so sundered from our woodland kin," Elrohir agreed. "Perhaps," Legolas breathed, boldly tracing with a fingertip the smooth skin revealed by the V of Elladan's robe, "perhaps I will be an ambassador for my people." "An excellent suggestion." Elrohir's lips curved slightly with a smile, and rewarded Legolas with a kiss, a bare whisper of a kiss, little more than lips meeting lips before drawing away again, leaving the fair-haired elf sighing for more. Elladan's tongue traced the whorl of his ear, and under the twins' ministrations there was little that Legolas could do in return. Arousal flowed through his body, mingling with the weariness, leaving him weak-limbed and breathless. Without warning, Elrohir stood up straight, levering his body away from the others. "But what sorts of ambassadors are we?" he asked, a teasing glint in his eye. "We promised you food and wine, and have given you nothing of the sort." Legolas cared nothing for this, but to his keen disappointment Elladan seemed to agree, instantly ceasing his attentions and sliding a hand into the crook of Legolas's arm. "Come," he said. He tugged gently, Elrohir gestured, and Legolas allowed himself to be pulled docilely across the room. A large open window gave onto a wooded hillside, and near it was a table. Upon it was spread numerous good things: bread and cheese, fruit and choice meats, and a carafe of ruby-red wine. As he neared the table, Legolas raised an eyebrow. It was only set for one; he wondered how long they had planned this interlude. Installing Legolas in a comfortable chair, the brothers left him to eat in silence. Elrohir sat at a desk on the opposite side of the large room, pretending to read some tract or letter, while Elladan stretched out on the bed. It was, Legolas noted, a large, comfortable- looking bed, piled with cushions. It was also the only noteworthy item in the room, which was otherwise rather sparsely furnished, as befitted warriors who were often from home. Relaxing into the chair, Legolas let his mind be drawn out the window to the tree-covered hillside. He could hear the song of the birds and the trees, the breeze and the river, and he let it fill him, and calm his racing heart. After a few moments he took a deep breath, master of himself once again. He leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table. Truthfully, he was more tired than hungry, but they had indeed gone to much trouble on his account. They were watching him closely, he knew that much. Though they said nothing, he could feel their eyes on him, setting his blood to simmering in spite of his weariness. He allowed himself a sly smile, and devoted himself to eating, choosing those juiciest bits of fruit and meat, the ones that required a great deal of finger-sucking and lip-licking. After all, this was liable to be the only entertainment he would be able to provide until he had rest. He hoped they were enjoying it. He soon got well into the spirit of his little game, and as a result was eating more messily than he probably ever had in his long life. He bit a large strawberry in half, and the juice ran down the side of this thumb and into his palm. He dipped his head down, letting the tip of his tongue catch the juice, trailing it up to clean off his skin. This last action finally provoked a response. "I hope, Elrohir, that you are taking note. Our woodland kinsman is not as delicate an eater as we had anticipated." "Indeed not," Elrohir said from behind his desk. Legolas glanced over to see that he had set down his letter, and his eyes looked dark, almost glittering. But his smile was still gentle, and he seemed completely at his ease. Legolas only smiled, and took a sip of wine. "Oh, no, we of the woodland realm are not delicate at all." He flicked his tongue out to catch a drop of wine at the corner of his mouth. "We are practically barbarians." Elrohir let out a noise like a soft growl, and Elladan rose restlessly. He balanced on the balls of his feet for a moment before striding toward Legolas and his messy feast. Detouring by a dresser, he snatched up comb carved of bone. "Your hair is dry, I think. May I?" he asked, holding up the comb. Legolas shrugged casually. "If you like. Do not pull it," he warned, gratified to note that his voice sounded fairly level. In fact, he delighted in having his hair combed, and the lovers who had stumbled across this weakness and indulged him in it had found themselves well rewarded. A low, throaty laugh sounded from directly behind him. "Never fear," was all Elladan said. Within moments, Legolas understood how unnecessary his warning had been. Elladan's fingers were nimble and patient, picking out any snarls so gently that he did not know they were there at all. And then the comb whispered through his hair, over and over, followed by the elf's long, slender hand, letting the locks spill through his fingers like water. It was all he could do to stay awake, the sensation was so intoxicating and relaxing. But although his eyes sagged, they did not close completely, for Elrohir had abandoned his desk to perch one hip on the edge of the small table, watching closely as his brother combed the blond elf's hair. Legolas found himself transfixed by Elrohir's eyes; the interest with which he watched the proceedings made it all look much less innocent than it truly was, and for a long moment Legolas felt naked under his gaze. Legolas was not aware of when Elladan had stopped combing his hair, he was only aware of his hands, now pushing gently on his shoulders, urging him out of the chair. Elrohir was there in front of him when he stood, catching his forearms to lead him across the room again. His heart sped up as every step took them closer to that bed, which looked softer and more inviting with every passing moment. Again he regretted his weariness, wishing that he could more properly respond to such extraordinary treatment. Turning Legolas around, Elladan knelt on the bed, moving back a little and gesturing for Legolas to join him. He sank down gratefully onto the bed's softness, closing his eyes. Behind him, Elladan slowly gathered his long hair off his neck; Legolas felt cool air along the back of his neck an instant before fingertips danced there, touching, lightly exploring. Elladan's touch heated his blood, and a long sigh escaped him. The long fingers continued to stroke the back of his neck, to be joined moments later by another hand, lightly skimming down the front of his throat to the neckline of his tunic. Before Legolas knew what was happening, Elrohir had begun unfastening the tunic. Elrohir work exceedingly slowly, undoing one clasp at a time, and exploring with his hands and his eyes every inch of skin uncovered. The tunic finally open at the front, he smoothed his hands all the way up Legolas's chest to his shoulders, pushing the fabric down his nerveless arms. Then Elrohir leaned forward, and Elladan lowered his head so they could both attack his neck with soft, wet kisses. His skin burned wherever their lips touched, and a moan spilled unbidden out of his mouth. The rational part of his mind noted that his hosts tensed just a bit against him at the sound. When he gasped as the twins simultaneously bit the tender skin of his neck, their hands tightened on him, and Elladan let out a strangled sigh. They liked to hear him, then. He smiled at the knowledge, and held back nothing when Elrohir dipped his tongue into the hollow of his throat. Legolas brought his hand to the head of the elf kneeling before him, his practiced fingers swiftly disposing of the small silver clasp that held back the ink-dark hair. He combed his fingers through the thick locks, Elrohir's answering moan little more than a vibration against his skin. Kissing down his breastbone and over to his heart, Elrohir practically purred into him. He looked up at Legolas, his eyes at the same time merry and yet dilated with desire. "I can feel your heart beat, just here," he said, placing his mouth on Legolas's chest. "How it races." He slid his mouth along to a nipple, and circled it soothingly with his tongue, before tugging gently with his teeth. Legolas hissed at the exquisite tingling this sent through him, arching his back and holding Elrohir's head to him. Heat flowed through his body, and he found himself unconsciously rocking his hips, wondering if he was perhaps not as weary as he had thought. Aching to kiss, to be kissed, Legolas turned his head slightly. But Elladan leaned forward over his shoulder, while Elrohir rose up to meet his brother. Legolas felt his tongue heavy in his mouth as he watched them kiss deeply and languidly, moving perfectly together, taking such obvious pleasure in each other that he thought he might scream from need. They drew apart at last with soft, sucking sounds, and both looked at him. He could only imagine the picture he presented, his mouth open, panting quietly, his tongue all but hanging out. Slowly, very slowly, deliberately teasing, Elrohir turned his head, his lips whispering over Legolas's own. But Legolas was in no mood for sweet caresses. He slid his hand into Elrohir's hair, and taking a deep breath, kissed him hard, sweeping his tongue into that willing mouth, their lips pressed together so firmly they stung. Tasting, sucking, Legolas kissed him greedily, ever harder, ever deeper, vaguely aware of Elladan's hands clamped down on his shoulders. When Elrohir made to pull away, Legolas would not let him, tightening his fist the dark hair. He felt Elladan's long fingers thread into his own hair, holding his head in a loose grip, almost controlling his actions, steering the kiss. The thought made him moan in the back of his throat, and Elrohir was able to break free at last. For a few seconds he panted, large grey eyes slightly glazed with passion. "You were not wrong," he finally said, voice trembling a little. "So possessive, so..." He took a breath. "Barbarians, the lot of you..." Yet he moved in closer, hands sliding up from Legolas's waist to stroke his chest. Legolas found that his own breath shook as well, but he managed a smile. "And yet you come back for more..." His lips curved into a smile that felt almost predatory as he reached for Elrohir again. But a tug on his hair stopped him short. "I think not," Elladan breathed in his ear. He nipped at an earlobe, and bent to nuzzle his throat. "I think my brother is far too greedy..." And Legolas found himself moved, turned in the double embrace to face the other brother. Elladan ran light, tantalizing fingers over Legolas's throbbing lips. With a low growl, Legolas quickly sucked those fingers into his mouth, suckling them, worrying softly at them with his teeth. Elladan drew in his breath sharply, then whispered, "Still hungry?" For the space of a heartbeat or two, Legolas felt like prey instead of predator at the look of unadulterated lust in Elladan's eyes. Then warm, demanding lips met his, taking his thought and his breath, and an insistent tongue dove into his mouth. A small game ensued, male competitiveness driving both elves; fingers tangled in hair, teeth bit, tongues battled wetly, until they were each gasping into the other's mouth. By some sudden mutual agreement the battle ended, and brutal kisses turned gentle. "Shall we call this a draw, my barbarian friend?" Elladan asked with a soft chuckle, barely lifting his mouth. At the feel of strong hands sliding under his body Legolas pulled his mouth away, to see Elrohir tug at his leggings. He raised up slightly to allow Elrohir to peel off the garment, relieved and exhilarated by the freedom, by the warm air on his body, by the almost physical sensation of their eyes on him. Fully aroused in spite of his weariness, he closed his eyes, trying to regain some measure of control. Hadn't he been weary? He could scarcely remember it now; all of his senses had heightened, and passion-fueled adrenaline coursed through his body. But he was helpless once again as Elrohir explored his torso with fingertips, mouth, and tongue. Reaching down, Legolas wound night-black strands of hair in his fingers, pressing the head further into him, while behind him Elladan's hands combed through his own hair, gathering it and lifting it off his neck. Legolas shivered at the weightless feeling, at the air that blew across his back and his neck, at the way Elladan explored his neck with infinite care. Legolas sighed, lifting one hand from Elrohir's head to reach up and take hold of Elladan's, holding both of them to him. "Mmm," Elladan moaned into his skin, "your hair is like honey, like a field of wheat ruffled by the breeze. You are all golden, warm as summer sunshine." Legolas could not help the laugh that escaped. "And am I a reluctant maiden, that you must woo me with poetry and seductive words?" At this Elrohir let out a low chuckle, almost identical to Elladan's, only slightly more breathy, more wicked. "My brother is very prettily spoken," he said, pausing in his work to smile up at Legolas, "but he always speaks the truth." Unable to answer, his eyes widened as the kneeling elf smiled up at him slyly, and leaned into him, brushing his mouth across Legolas's heaving chest. There was sensation everywhere; lips on his neck, his ears, his face, his chest, while warm hands touched where ever the lips did not. Legolas was in a peculiar haze of pleasure and exhaustion he had never known before. Forcing himself to speak, he said, "What was in that wine?" Elladan gave a low chuckle, echoed by his brother. "Nothing but good, sweet grape, my friend. We would not be so devious. But to desire, and be desired – it is a heady feeling. I feel it myself," he murmured as he nibbled a path from Legolas's ear to his shoulder. "And you would be a strange creature indeed to not feel dizzy at my brother's hands. He is exceedingly talented." Elrohir smiled at Elladan's praise as his hands caressed up and down parted thighs. With a wicked grin and a lifted eyebrow, he laved Legolas from base to tip in one long stroke, sending a shudder through the wood elf that would have sent him of the bed if Elrohir had not anchored him down with strong hands on his thighs. And Elladan, it seemed, had anticipated Legolas's reaction, as his arms wrapped around his chest, helping to steady him under Elrohir's assault. Legolas shuddered again and closed his eyes, surrendering his weight to Elladan and his body to Elrohir. He lay his head back on Elladan's shoulder, and that elf continued to nibble his shoulder while his twin did his own, very different nibbling. While his fingertips stroked lazy patterns on the insides of Legolas's thighs, his tongue teased the very tip of his arousal, drawing wicked, wet circles until Legolas thought he could no longer breathe. But then what breath he had escaped out of him in a long moaning sigh, as Elrohir bent over him, taking him slowly into his mouth. And Elladan, meanwhile, had no mercy; his hands roamed across Legolas's chest, alternating between fingernails and fingertips, scratching lightly and caressing softly. "I thought you were weary," came Elladan's teasing voice in his ear. "I was," Legolas gasped. "I am. And yet…" There was that soft laugh once again. "I know," said Elladan, "my brother can raise the dead, can he not?" But Legolas was too lost for banter, and he drew great gulps of air in, and plunged his fingers into Elrohir's hair. Elrohir made no protest, but in a moment Legolas found Elladan's fingers threaded through his, prying his hands away and holding them out to his sides. "Please," Elladan said, his breath hot against Legolas's face, "if you grasp him so, I cannot see. Let him do as he will." His voice held a mixture of amusement and desire that sent shivers down Legolas's spine, and he allowed himself to be restrained. He let the sounds of his enjoyment spill out, knowing it would please the twins; if he had a brief thought that perhaps he could not take such treatment in silence, he pushed it away, holding onto his precious illusion of control. He could feel the pressure of Elladan's sex against his lower back, and rocked his hips slightly, pressing himself into the elf behind him. Elladan gasped and murmured "wicked," against Legolas's throat, just before he bit down hard. At that moment Elrohir took Legolas deep into his mouth, tongue and lips combining to bring him to the brink of inevitability. For the space of a couple of heartbeats Legolas was completely still, every muscle in his body taut in anticipation. Then his released washed through him, and he tightened his grip on the hands that held him, and cried out as his hips bucked off the bed. Elrohir must have realized that holding him down would be futile, and simply wrapped his arms around Legolas's thighs and held on, drinking him in, draining every last bit of tension and energy from his body, leaving him weak with satisfaction. He collapsed panting against Elladan, who let go of his hands to twine his fingers back into Legolas's now tousled hair. "Now," said Legolas when he could draw breath once more, "now, I am truly tired." Both brothers smiled, their hands tracing warm patterns over his skin. When Elladan pressed down on his shoulders, Legolas groaned deeply. "Ah, I know what you need," Elladan murmured, and through heavy-lidded eyes Legolas saw Elrohir nod in agreement. Together, they coaxed him onto the bed, until he lay prone on the soft feather mattress. He was too exhausted to even moan when he felt strong hands on him, stroking and massaging away all the soreness of his overworked muscles. The pressure of their hands eased his back, his neck, his arms, giving him a strange but not unpleasant melting sensation. As they set to work on his thighs and buttocks, aching from long days astride his horse, he felt the world slipping away. Wrapped in luxurious comfort and complete security, he slept.