Title: The Dawning, 16/? Author: Larien Elengasse Type: FPS Characters: Glorfindel/Erestor, Legolas/Elladan/Elrohir, Thranduil Rating: NC-17 Archive: Rhovanion, OEAM, Mirrormere, Melethryn, Library of Moria. All others please ask. WARNING: Graphic depictions of sexual acts between males, incest, PWP, and some angst and romance. 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… Feedback: Yes please, larienelengasse@yahoo.com Author's Notes: This is a continuation of what has become a string of fics starting with "The Wager"; the Glorfindel/Erestor bug bit me again after a long respite. Since the string has been written out of sequence, this one follows "The Wager" chronologically. Summary: Thranduil pays a visit to his injured guests; Elladan overhears a conversation and plays a dangerous game; Legolas and Thranduil talk. Erestor drank his vegetable broth and herbal tea as instructed, then lay down on his uninjured side so that he could look at Glorfindel. He had a strange, disconcerting feeling that lurked at the perimeter of his consciousness. It was like a bad dream he could not remember but one that still haunted him. He remembered the battle with the spiders, he remembered being paralyzed, he even remembered seeing Glorfindel get wounded. However, he could remember nothing after that; instead of memories, he was left with an unpleasant feeling that he could not quite put his finger on. He was lost in his thoughts and did not hear Thranduil enter; his first indication of the king's presence was when he felt the bed dip beneath Thranduil's weight. He rolled to his back and immediately tried to sit up. "My lord..." Thranduil put up his hand. "No, stay where you are; you need to rest." He cocked his head as he looked upon Glorfindel. "Has he woken?" "No, my lord," Erestor answered quietly. "'Tis better that he rest; the both of you were injured quite badly. How are you feeling, Counselor?" "Better..." Erestor answered. "Weary, but I am starting to feel better. Your healers are experts at their craft, my lord." Thranduil smiled and nodded. "Aye, unfortunately they have had far too much practice as of late." Thranduil placed his hand upon Erestor's leg. "The healers said you had the visions..." Erestor frowned and realized that the visions Thranduil talked about were what accounted for the nagging feelings he was having. "I think so," he answered. "But I am not altogether sure." "I wanted to talk to you about them, so that when they return you will not be frightened and confused." Erestor struggled to sit up and Thranduil helped him, propping pillows up behind his back. "I cannot remember them," he said softly. "Are you telling me that they will return?" "They will not so much return as be remembered. You will not feel them with the same intensity, but you will remember what you saw." "Are you certain, my lord?" Thranduil looked at the floor. "Quite." "Are they from the ungol's poison?" "Aye." "And you have experienced these yourself?" "Aye, I have. I have twice been poisoned, and memories of the visions from both injuries remain." Thranduil took a deep breath and began, "The first time I was injured was not too long before we left for Mordor. My patrol was caught unawares. That time the dreams were about my beloved and about my father. I saw the Dark Lord doing unmentionable and horrible things to them. Of course, my father died not too long after that, and while his death was not as horrible as my dream, I worry for his soul." He paused then continued, "The second time was several years after we returned from Mordor. I married my beloved and she gave birth to Legolas for me. He was just an elfling at the time, having just found his legs and delighting in running everywhere he went..." A wistful smile curved his lips then he continued, "Those were the most horrible of the visions. The black beast raped my wife and mutilated and tortured my young son... Of course, it is all lies; that is how his black magic works. The venom enters your body and works upon your mind, bringing all your worst fears to life. It is not enough that when the ungol capture their prey they keep them alive even as they feast on their flesh, but the Dark Lord makes sure that death is slow in coming and the road to it is the most horrible you can imagine." Erestor swallowed as he listened to this fearsome tale, and he found himself reaching out and taking Thranduil's hand in his own. "When you first reawaken, you do not remember these fearsome visions. But sometime later they will return, as flashes at first, then eventually in their entirety. My healers, for all their skill, have not found away to purge the visions from the minds of the ungol's victims." Erestor nodded. "I understand. How do you live with them "You remind yourself that they are just bad dreams planted in your imagination by the Dark Lord's magic, you take a deep breath and you go on." "What happened to your wife, my lord? If you do not mind me asking..." Thranduil smiled sadly. "Too much had changed though neither of us wished to see it. When I returned from the war, we married quickly, for I had been gone for so long. I had changed; I was not the same young prince she had fallen for, though she did not want to see it. After Legolas was born, I became obsessed with the protection of our home. I rode ceaselessly in the woods, and she slept alone in our bed. She wanted to sail to Aman, she thought it would bring both of us peace; but I would not go. I refused to abandon Greenwood. She left when Legolas was twenty years of age. She left him here because she could see that no matter how much he would miss her, or she would miss him, he and I needed one another more. Believe me, there are days I wish she had taken him, that he was now strolling the beaches of Aman with his beloved, that he had grown up knowing peace and tranquility instead of war and violence. I have tried to send him, but he will not leave. He loves this wood as I do, and is determined to fight like I have to protect it." Erestor smiled sadly. "He is a valiant prince, my lord. He takes great pride in you and his home, and he serves both with much honor. My Lord Elrond was most impressed not only with his skills as a warrior, but with his ability as a statesman and leader. He was most taken with your son." Thranduil smiled proudly. "It gladdens my heart to hear this, Erestor. I am most proud of Legolas." He patted Erestor's hand. "Now, get some rest. If the visions return and keep you from resting, the healer can give you a tonic to quiet them." "Thank you, my lord," Erestor said quietly. Thranduil nodded then stood, bowing his head and covering his heart with his hand before turning and exiting the healer's chambers. * * * * Elladan and Elrohir were just outside the healer's door when they heard Thranduil talking to Erestor about the visions. Elladan pulled his twin into a small alcove as the king passed, he did not think Thranduil saw them, but he could not be sure. "What is it, Elladan?" Elrohir whispered. Elladan held his finger to Elrohir's lips until he was certain that Thranduil had passed and was out of hearing range. Elrohir smiled mischievously and pressed a kiss to his twin's index finger. Elladan glanced around quickly and slid his hand behind Elrohir's head, drawing his twin's lips to his own and kissing Elrohir possessively. Elrohir moaned softly as he arched against his brother; it had been many long nights since they had shared one another's bodies. He loved the way Elladan kissed him, how his twin's lips and tongue moved against his own. He could feel his desire just beginning to stir when Elladan pulled away and broke the kiss. He sighed, then opened his eyes slowly. A smile curved his lips as he watched Elladan tug down upon his tunic and try to regain his composure. "Was that it?" he teased. "No... erm..." Elladan cleared his throat. "What I meant to say before you so wickedly distracted me, was that I think we may be able to help Glorfindel and Erestor... perhaps the king as well..." "How?" "Do you remember the potion that father made for mother after she was attacked?" Elrohir furrowed his brow. "I think so..." "Do you remember the incantation he recited when preparing it?" "Yes." "If we can gather the same ingredients perhaps we can make the same potion..." "And that would take the visions from their memory." Elrohir finished with a smile. Elladan smiled as well and nodded. "Come, let us explore the healer's gardens." "We may have to venture into the woods as well." The twins hurried down the corridor toward the healer's gardens. * * * * Thranduil sat back in a large, overstuffed chair, swirling blackberry brandy in a fine silver goblet. Legolas sat across from him with his own goblet of brandy, staring into the fire. "So your visit was fruitful?" the king asked his son. "Yes, it was most pleasant as well. Imladris is a beautiful valley, as you well know." Thranduil nodded in agreement then took a sip of his brandy. "I take it you have formed a bond of friendship with Elrond's sons?" "Aye, I have," Legolas answered, then took a sip of his own brandy. "And of the Lady Arwen?" "She is most beautiful, indeed, father. But she has eyes for another..." "And who would this other be?" Legolas chuckled at his father's not-so-subtle interrogation. "A Dúnadan, father." Thranduil's eyes widened. "Really? I wonder how Master Elrond feels about that..." "Father..." Legolas smiled as he shook his head. "You are wicked to gossip in this way." Thranduil smiled and winked at his son. "If one cannot be wicked with one's son, then who can one be wicked with?" Legolas laughed aloud. "So, you have lain with them then, I suppose?" "Father!" "Come, Legolas... It is not as if I am laboring under the delusion that you are still an innocent. Your attempts at secrecy here at home have not been altogether successful. Besides, you are my son, in more ways than one." Thranduil winked at Legolas. Legolas felt the heat rising in his cheeks. "Yes, if you must know, I have lain with them, several times in fact. It has been a most pleasant experience." Thranduil nodded. "I can imagine. The two of them entwined must be a sight to behold..." Legolas cocked his head. "It did not take you long to see what is between them..." "It never does, my son." Thranduil smiled. "I have no problem with it; love is love, even when it takes unusual forms. Now, that Glorfindel... that is an elf to behold. Pity his heart is lost to the staid advisor... well, pity for me I should say." Legolas chuckled. "I knew you would like him. I have to agree, not only is he beautiful, but he is strong and admirable; he is a wise and skilled warrior. Lord Erestor also has admirable battle skills, but he does not have the zeal for fighting that Glorfindel does." "They make a beautiful pair," Thranduil answered. "Fire and ice, they are..." Legolas sat his goblet down and knelt at his father's feet. He leaned forward and embraced Thranduil, resting his head upon his father's broad chest. "I missed you, father," he said quietly. Thranduil stroked his son's hair. "I missed you as well, Greenleaf." "I want to see you in love, I want to see you look at someone the way Elladan and Elrohir look at one another." "I want the same for you, Legolas. Perhaps we will both find it one day..." "I hope so," Legolas answered quietly. Legolas moved to sit in his father's lap as he did when he was a child. Thranduil held him as they gazed into the fire and enjoyed a quiet moment together. To be continued... Title: The Dawning, 17/? Author: Larien Elengasse Type: FPS Characters: Glorfindel/Erestor, Legolas/Elladan/Elrohir, Thranduil Rating: NC-17 Archive: Rhovanion, OEAM, Mirrormere, Melethryn, Library of Moria. All others please ask. WARNING: Graphic depictions of sexual acts between males, incest, PWP, and some angst and romance. 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… Feedback: Yes please, larienelengasse@yahoo.com Author's Notes: This is a continuation of what has become a string of fics starting with "The Wager"; the Glorfindel/Erestor bug bit me again after a long respite. Since the string has been written out of sequence, this one follows "The Wager" chronologically. Summary: Elladan and Elrohir concoct a healing potion; Glorfindel awakes; the twins find time alone. Elladan and Elrohir emerged from the woods with sacks of various flowers and some bark from different trees. The master healer watched as the twins prepared a cloudy liquid and whispered an incantation. He eagerly took notes of the ingredients and amounts of each, then wrote the incantation down in his notebook. If the potion and incantatinon worked, he would be able to help the troubled spirits of many of his kinsmen. Erestor had already begun to see flashes of the visions. The first several caused him to clench his eyes shut and gasp aloud. Glorfindel was still sedated but sleeping fitfully; Erestor was sure the visions were haunting him too. As the twins approached the bed with the concoction, he asked them in a worried voice, "Can we not wake him? These visions are bad enough when one is awake, but to keep dreaming them over and over without relief..." Elladan nodded. "Let me check his wound; if it has healed enough, I will rouse him." Elrohir handed the small bowl to Erestor. "Here, drink it all down quickly. It tastes most foul but will be worth it..." Erestor took the bowl and gulped the contents down, struggling not to gag. His expression was screwed into one of disgust as he handed the bowl back to Elrohir. "Most foul? That was the most disgusting thing that has ever crossed my lips... So bitter!" Elrohir sat upon the bed and chuckled. "Rinse your mouth out and spit into the bowl. You cannot ingest anything until nightfall." Erestor did as instructed and turned to watch Elladan attending to Glorfindel. Elladan slowly removed the bandage from Glorfindel's face and rinsed the poultice off with a warm, wet cloth. He smiled as he inspected the wound and the Elda's jaw. "It has healed very well. I can remove the stitches and I believe the bone is mended. He will not be able to eat solid food for a few days yet, but he is going to be fine." "That means no kissing with an open mouth," Elrohir teased Erestor. "Elrohir!" Erestor answered, crossing his arm over his chest. Elrohir chuckled. "And now for you, let us see how that shoulder is doing." He began removing the sling on Erestor's arm. "How did I do this?" Erestor asked. "During the visions you struggled so violently that you pulled your arm from the joint. I swear you would have torn it clean off if we had not untied you." Erestor shuddered. He realized the flashes of dream-memory were lessening in both frequency and intensity. "I believe the potion is working," he said with a wary smile. "Good," Elrohir answered. He examined Erestor's shoulder and found that the swelling had greatly lessened and the fever had left the joint. It was still tender, but was well on its way to healing completely due to the speedy healing qualities of the Elves. "You need to wear the sling for a day or two, just to be safe. You will have full use of your arm very soon." "Thank you, Elrohir," Erestor said quietly. He turned to look at Glorfindel. Elladan was dabbing small drops of blood from where the sutures had been removed. A long, angry red scar marred the Elda's jaw line, but Elladan insisted it would fade completely. The left side of Glorfindel's face was still swollen and red, but he looked much better than he had but two days before. Within a few hours they would know if the potion worked on the visions, already they were beginning to fade from his memory. He watched Elladan pass a small pouch of herbs under Glorfindel's nose. Glorfindel immediately growled and grabbed Elladan's wrist tightly. "Glorfindel, it is me. It is Elladan..." The Elda looked up into his pupil's eyes and released his wrist and groaned in pain. "Do not try to talk," Elladan answered. "Your jaw was broken and still needs a day or two to completely heal." "Ungol... Annatar..." Glorfindel ground out from between his teeth. "The ungol were real, that is how you broke your jaw. Annatar is a vision that came on with the fever..." "Erestor..." Glorfindel murmured. "Here, Glorfindel..." Glorfindel slowly turned his head to see his lover in the bed beside him. His arm and side were bandaged but he looked unharmed otherwise. He sighed and closed his eyes, feeling a tear slip down his cheek. "Are you in much pain?" Erestor asked worriedly. He shook his head. "I know the visions are terrible, I had them too." Glorfindel nodded. Erestor slid to the edge of his bed and placed his uninjured arm around Glorfindel's shoulders. He looked to Elrohir. "Give it to him, please. I cannot watch him suffer this way..." Elrohir nodded. "Here, Glorfindel, drink this down. It tastes awful but will erase the visions from your memory." Glorfindel sucked the liquid from a reed placed in the bowl, cringing from the foul taste. "It will be over soon, Glorfindel. By nightfall you will not remember them..." Glorfindel nodded and rested his head upon Erestor's shoulder, holding his lover's hand in both of his own. Elladan and Elrohir left them alone, drawing a curtain closed around their beds. They gave the healer permission to administer the potion to his patients, and Elladan said he would administer it to the king personally. * * * * The twins walked down the corridor toward their guest chambers, hand in hand. "I am most grateful that it worked," Elrohir said softly. "As am I," Elladan agreed. "I do not want to know what they saw." "Nor do I..." They reached their rooms and Elrohir tugged upon Elladan's hand. "Come in my room with me," he whispered. Elladan glanced up and down the hallway and saw no one present. He followed Elrohir into his bedchamber and closed the door behind them, making sure it was latched and locked. Elrohir stood beside the bed, slowly unbuttoning his tunic. Elladan crossed the room to him, clasping his twin's hands in his own and pulling them back. Elrohir gazed intensely at him, allowing him to pull his arms out to the sides and behind his back. Their mouths danced near each other as Elladan clasped his twin's wrists behind his back with one hand. Elrohir reached for him with his mouth and he pulled away, feeling his brother's breath upon his lips. He caressed Elrohir's face and watched as his twin pressed his mouth to the palm of his hand. He could feel desire lighting inside him, feel the insistent pull and pulse of heat in his loins. He needed no words to know what Elrohir wanted; he always knew what Elrohir wanted. He assaulted Elrohir's ear with his mouth and heard his twin groan deeply. Elrohir leaned into him, bending one leg and wrapping it around his own, pressing his groin into him. "Please..." Elrohir whispered. "Yes." Elladan replied, and he released his twin's wrists and began removing Elrohir's garments in a fevered rush. Elrohir furiously tugged at his own and he quickly shrugged his tunic off his shoulders. The feel of his brother's fingers digging into the flesh and muscle of his back was intoxicating, and he forced himself to slow down, to savor their lovemaking, to make the moment last as long as possible. His mind drifted between the fire of the moment and memories of their first encounter. So often, Elrohir still looked like his innocent younger brother, his wide gray eyes pleading and afraid, his sinfully ripe lips begging to be consumed. Elrohir haunted both his waking and dreaming moments; the wicked acts he had perpetrated upon this perfect body swirled in his mind. Elrohir was always submissive with him, though rarely so with others. He supposed it was because he was the one who had taken Elrohir's innocence when he bent his twin over his narrow bed and penetrated his body. Legolas had been the only other one permitted to take Elrohir, and Elladan still found himself wondering why his twin allowed it. Elrohir pulled him to the bed and on top of him, wrapping his long, powerful legs around him as their bodies moved against one another. He could feel Elrohir's hands in his hair, his twin's lips upon his neck and ear, Elrohir's eager body arching and bowing beneath him. He moaned as his twin's oiled hand worked his arousal and he joined his brother in the act, slicking his own hand then reaching down between Elrohir's legs. The soft cry of pleasure that came from Elrohir's lips caused him to moan deeply in reply. Finding his mark, he felt Elrohir tense around his fingers and heard him utter a strangled cry into his hair. "Please, Elladan..." His twin's voice was his siren call, soft, deep notes sung to a lover, pleading with him to take him, to ride his body and join their hearts and souls in the act of love. "I love you, Elrohir," he whispered against his twin's lips as he entered his body. The sight of Elrohir lost in love and passion, his head thrown back, his lips parted and curved into a smile caused his heart to swell within his chest. As much as he wanted to savor it, as long as he wanted it to last, he could resist Elrohir's pleading no longer. He rode him hard and fast, burying himself to the root in his twin's heat. He felt Elrohir's seed spill hot between their bodies and his channel tighten and squeeze his length mercilessly. A deep growl escaped him as he emptied himself inside Elrohir and collapsed into his embrace. As he reveled in the warm afterglow of his climax he felt Elrohir's hands stroking his hair, heard his brother's voice whispering sweet words of love and devotion to him. He trembled in Elrohir's arms, reduced to the most pure of all emotion. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift into reverie, ensconced in Elrohir's embrace. * * * * Legolas lay upon his back on his bed, his hands folded behind his head, his ankles crossed. It felt good to be home, though the road had been treacherous. He imagined Elladan and Elrohir would be lying together, taking advantage of the time they had and the comfort of a warm bed. That thought caused his lips to curve into a smile as he remembered their conversations in Imladris. His father's reaction and observation had not come as a surprise, really. Legolas learned long ago that few things escaped his father's attention. He was pleased that Thranduil saw no harm in the twins' love for one another; his father's wisdom only made him love him even more. He wished his father had one to love. Sure, Thranduil had lovers, no shortage of them in fact. However, he wanted his father to love someone like Elladan and Elrohir loved one another, like Glorfindel and Erestor loved one another – although the Balrog slayer was not aware of his own feelings yet. 'One day,' he thought. 'One day he will find happiness and love in another, as will I.' He closed his eyes, the hard trials over the last few days finally catching up with him, and he drifted into reverie, enjoying a midday nap. * * * * Thranduil sat at his desk, an open volume of the history of his people before him. His eyes focused on the likeness of a helmed figure, cloaked in black, standing before the Mountain of Fire. A feral sneer curved his lip and he growled, "You will fall. Be it by my hand or another's, those you have murdered and tortured will be avenged. Laugh now, beast. For your days of malice and laughter will soon be over..." What Thranduil could not have imagined was that the Dark Lord would meet his fate at the hands of a halfling... * * * * In the Caves of Thranduil, two brothers revel in their love, two lovers heal each other, a king wishes for revenge and a prince wishes for love. In a land far west of Mirkwood, a halfling toys with a ring in his pocket. In Imladris, a young man learns of his heritage and birthright, and embarks upon the road to his destiny. In the wilds of Rhovanion, a wretched creature bemoans the loss of something he loved, searching for it and crying out in misery in the darkness. In the south of what was once the great wood, fearsome beasts rebuild and occupy a fortress. The times are changing and the Third Age is beginning to draw to an end. To be continued... Title: The Dawning, 18/? Author: Larien Elengasse Type: FPS Characters: Glorfindel/Erestor, Legolas/Elladan/Elrohir, Thranduil Rating: NC-17 Archive: Rhovanion, OEAM, Mirrormere, Melethryn, Library of Moria. All others please ask. WARNING: Graphic depictions of sexual acts between males, incest, PWP, and some angst and romance. 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… Feedback: Yes please, larienelengasse@yahoo.com Author's Notes: This is a continuation of what has become a string of fics starting with "The Wager"; the Glorfindel/Erestor bug bit me again after a long respite. Since the string has been written out of sequence, this one follows "The Wager" chronologically. Summary: Thranduil gets some disturbing news and makes a demand of Legolas; Glorfindel and Erestor find humor in their situation. Thranduil slammed the flat of his hand down upon his heavy oak desk in frustration. The herald flinched in response and waited for the king to reply to this latest news. "Not again..." Thranduil growled. "He cannot have my forest! He will not take my home!" he barked. He turned his dark eyes to his herald. The king then sighed and shook his head and continued, "Forgive me, Galador. I know 'tis not through any failing of our warriors that this has happened. Bear word back to the captain to stay as close as he can without endangering the lives of his soldiers. We must watch Dol Guldur carefully in the coming days." The herald bowed his head, his silver hair shrouding his worried face, then stepped backward and turned, departing the king's study. Thranduil sat heavily in his chair, leaning back and rubbing his temples with his fingers. Sauron had reoccupied Dol Guldur by sending the Nazgűl. Spiders and orcs were one thing, as long as he could remain aware of their movements he could combat the beasts, but the Nazgűl... there was no fighting the Nazgűl. How could you defeat what you could not kill? A sense of failure weighed heavy upon Thranduil. He was losing ground to the enemy; he feared that soon the wood would be lost. "Father?" He opened his eyes to see his son standing in the doorway. Legolas' eyes were clouded with concern. How many times had he wished that he had sent his son to Aman? How many times had he feared for Legolas' life? Was saving the wood more important than protecting his only son? He inwardly cursed his selfish, stubborn pride... "Was that Galador that just left? Is there news from the border? What is it, father?" Legolas asked as he entered his father's study, closing the door behind him. "Why do you look so... worried?" Thranduil rose from his chair and rounded the desk, placing one hand upon Legolas' shoulder and cupping his son's cheek with the other. "I want you to do something for me, Greenleaf," he said quietly. "Anything, father," Legolas answered softly. "When our visitors depart for Lórien, I want you to go with them." "Why? I have just arrived home, I have duties..." "Legolas, listen to me. I want you to go with them to Lórien and bear a message for me to Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel. Then I want you to ride south, to the Gap of Rohan, then west to the Havens." Legolas began shaking his head. "I want you to board the next ship and leave this place..." "No!" Legolas shouted. "I will not leave you here alone! I will not abandon my home..." "Legolas, please, you must do this for me. I will not have you risk your life any further; I cannot risk losing you. You must do this for me..." "I will not! I will not leave you..." "Legolas!" Thranduil barked. "I am ordering you as your father, as your king, to leave this wood and never come back! Do not make me banish you from this place..." "And what about what I cannot bear?" Legolas shouted. "How am I to live with the knowledge that I have ran from my duty as your son, ran from the duty I have to my kindred? How am I supposed to just walk away from here and leave you behind? If you want me gone, then banish me... but I will not leave Middle-earth, and if war comes I will ride to battle with whatever army will have me." Thranduil sighed and dropped his head. Legolas placed his hand upon his father's shoulder and tried to lift his father's chin. "Tell me what has happened, father, please..." There was no point in hiding it from him, Legolas was a captain in his guard, he would learn soon enough. "Sit." Thranduil motioned to a chair, and Legolas took it as he perched himself upon the corner of his desk. "War is coming, my son. I know not when, but come it will, and it will be the war to end them all..." Legolas gripped the arms of the chair in his hands. He could feel his heart beating in his chest, his blood racing through his veins. His father never spoke of what happened upon the Morannon, or of the horrors he saw in front of the Black Gates. Legolas only knew that his father had seen his own father fall, and had returned home with less than a third of those he had departed Greenwood with. Lord Elrond had told Legolas much about the great war that ended the Second Age, and had given him books of history to read. When Legolas was young, he had heard the murmurings of those that remembered his father from before the war, the hushed whisperings of nursemaids and cooks, of chambermaids and seamstresses. They said the king had changed, that he was no longer the same young prince he had been before leaving Greenwood. Some said it was the death of his father, some said it was the horror of war or that he had seen Sauron, but all agreed that a shadow had been cast over Thranduil's spirit. As Legolas looked at his father in that moment, the shadow was clearly visible. Often his father's gaze was kind, if not a bit weary, and in it, he saw his father's love for him. Now he only saw anger and regret, and something he had never seen before – fear. "The Dark Lord has retaken Dol Guldur..." "No..." Legolas gasped. "Úlairi have been seen, riding their crazed horses and flying upon winged serpents... The Dark Lord seeks to reclaim what he once made his own, and then he will make war upon all of Middle-earth. He will not stop, Legolas, not until every tree is burned and every living thing upon this earth is dead." "We must seek help from the White Council..." Legolas answered in earnest. "Mithrandir persuaded them once before..." Thranduil narrowed his eyes. "They will not attack again... Mithrandir may be our friend, but my heart tells me that Curunír* is not. Too many strange things are happening, Greenleaf. Why do yrch search the Vales of the Anduin? And now the Úlairi have come... I have an ill feeling about these things. My heart tells me that a great evil has awakened." "The Ring..." Legolas whispered. Thranduil took his son's hand. "Perhaps. We are fighting a foe that we cannot defeat, Legolas. Legions of Eldar, Men and Dwarves fell before the Black Gates. Great kings of the Noldor, Sindar, and Edain fell in that battle. We are but a small band of elves hidden in the forest. Had the Dark Lord not shown weakness in his arrogance and wore the One Ring into open battle, we all would have fallen into darkness. It is only by the strange fate of Isildur that we vanquished him; yet he was not destroyed..." "As long as the Ring exists..." Legolas whispered. "The Dark Lord lives..." Thranduil finished. "We must find it before his servants do; we must hide it!" Thranduil shook his head. "That Ring is evil, Greenleaf. None of us dare touch it or we risk being corrupted by it. No, my heart tells me that if it were here, it would have been found." Legolas paled. "Perhaps it has been found... perhaps that is why the Úlairi have come, to bear it back to its master." "If that is the truth, then we are all doomed, my son. All the more reason to leave this place and sail to Aman." Legolas looked into his father's eyes. "I will leave, if you will leave with me." "There are those here who still wish to fight for our home, Legolas. I cannot leave them leaderless..." "Then I will stay and fight with you, as I have always done." He rose and put his arms around Thranduil's waist. "I will not leave you, father. I love you..." Thranduil cradled Legolas' head upon his shoulder, stroking the length of flaxen hair beneath his hand. "And I love you, my son..." * * * * Glorfindel yawned and grimaced in discomfort, then he blinked as his eyes slowly cleared of reverie. He could not tell whether it was day or night, as being underground it was always dark. The healer's chambers were lit with lanterns, the light dim so that his patients could find rest. He slowly moved his head, feeling Erestor's silken hair beneath his cheek. He had not moved for hours, and his body groaned in complaint. A smile curved his lips as Erestor sighed and his hand softly caressed his lover's chest through the linen of his sleeping gown. "Glorfindel..." Erestor murmured softly. "Yes?" he whispered in return. "How fare you?" "Better..." he mumbled. "Your shoulder, is it painful?" "No. My jaw is stiff and tender, but other than that, I am fine. And you, my brave councilor?" Erestor moaned as he stretched. "My shoulder is tight, but I will be well soon. Hopefully I will not need to battle any more ungol." Glorfindel nodded in agreement. "Aye, I agree with you on that point, my good advisor. I hope and pray my days fighting ungol are over." He chuckled. "What is so funny, might I ask?" "Look at us, two battered and weary souls brought down by a few ungol..." "I do not know about yours, but the one I had to battle was four times my size, and if I recall, there were more than a few..." Glorfindel nodded. "Aye, you wield a tree branch well, my friend..." Erestor pinched the warrior's nipple and Glorfindel barked in surprise. "I am still better off than you, so hold your tongue or you will pay for your insolence..." "You think you can best me then?" Glorfindel teased. "I know I can. I have before..." "Care to make a wager on that?" Glorfindel winked, and Erestor laughed. "'Tis good to hear laughter coming from these beds..." The pair looked up to see Thranduil standing before them, arms crossed over his chest. Erestor flushed as he asked, "How long have you been standing there, my lord?" Thranduil winked as he replied, "Long enough. Good to see you awake, Lord Glorfindel. How are you feeling?" "Better, my lord," Glorfindel answered. "My thanks to you and your healing staff, you saved our lives." "Lives well worth the saving, I should say," Thranduil answered. "Since you are feeling better, I will have my chambermaids prepare proper quarters for you, so that the two of you may have some privacy." He smiled over his shoulder as he turned to leave the room. "Many thanks, my lord..." Erestor called after him. Thranduil waved his hand in reply and sought out his chambermaids. To be continued... * Curunír = the Elves name for Saruman Title: The Dawning, 19/? Author: Larien Elengasse Type: FPS Characters: Glorfindel/Erestor, Legolas/Elladan/Elrohir, Thranduil Rating: NC-17 Archive: Rhovanion, OEAM, Mirrormere, Melethryn, Library of Moria. All others please ask. WARNING: Graphic depictions of sexual acts between males, incest, PWP, and some angst and romance. 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… Feedback: Yes please, larienelengasse@yahoo.com Author's Notes: This is a continuation of what has become a string of fics starting with "The Wager"; the Glorfindel/Erestor bug bit me again after a long respite. Since the string has been written out of sequence, this one follows "The Wager" chronologically. Summary: Elladan and Elrohir have a talk; Elladan and the king meet privately. Elladan smoothed the velvet of his robe as Elrohir stood behind him running a boar's hair brush through his thick sable locks. "It was kind of his majesty to have these robes delivered to us," Elladan said softly. "I would not like to sit at his table in my travel clothes." "I wonder if there is some secret to removing ungol filth?" Elrohir said absently. "Let us both hope that we do not need to discover it." "Aye. I wonder how long we will be delayed here?" "Glorfindel and Erestor should be ready to ride and fight, if need be, in few days time. Are you anxious to return to the Golden Wood?" "It will be nice to see Grandmother and Grandfather again, and to see Arwen. But staying here does have its advantages..." Elladan turned and looked into his twin's eyes as he caressed his cheek. "Aye, it most certainly does." "We have not seen Legolas this day, I wonder how he fares?" "Fine, I am sure; he is home after all. His father is quite impressive, do you not agree?" "Yes, Thranduil is an impressive figure – it is apparent where Legolas takes his beauty from, and his bravery..." "You are most smitten with Legolas, little brother," Elladan answered softly. "Are you saying that you are not?" "That is not what I am saying at all... but I am not as attached to him as you are. You have grown very close to him in the months we have been his friends, closer than you have to any other in our lives." "There is something about him..." Elrohir mused. "A quality of... vulnerability that underlies his strength and bravery. I was drawn to him because of his beauty in the beginning, but now I am drawn to him because of his spirit." Elladan nodded. He could sense the bond forming between Elrohir and Legolas, it was something that had not happened between his twin and another before. "You give yourself to him, that is something else you have never done for anyone but me." Elrohir looked into Elladan's eyes. Were it not for the bond that existed between them, he would have believed his twin to be jealous. "Does it disturb you that I do so?" "No. I am just surprised by it, I suppose. I have seen how you are with your other lovers, Elrohir; you are different with our prince." "The others are just diversions, a ploy to draw questions away from you and me. Legolas is not that..." Elladan nodded. "Does this bother you, Elladan?" Elrohir asked softly. "Of course not, Elrohir. What makes you happy makes me happy; but I would not want Legolas to get hurt. In the end, there is only you and me; there can be only you and me..." "I know." Elrohir turned away from Elladan, suddenly feeling uncomfortable standing so close. Elladan sighed as he took Elrohir's hair and pulled it behind his back. He then rested his hands on his twin's shoulders and kissed the crown of his head. "Come, we will be late for the evening meal." * * * * Thranduil sat at the head of the table, as was customary. Legolas sat on his right, Elladan on his left, and Elrohir took a seat next to Legolas. There was an air of tension that both Elladan and Elrohir felt but could not account for. Members of Thranduil's court asked them questions about Imladris and discussed political matters; the king only interjected when necessary, otherwise he was silent. Elladan's gaze was torn between the magnetic king and Elrohir. He could not help but notice how happy Elrohir was to see Legolas and he took note of all the soft touches upon the prince's arm. When his gaze left his twin, it was drawn to Thranduil. The king was resplendent, dressed in robes of deep green velvet and silver silk, his flaxen hair standing out against the dark hue of his robe. Thranduil was of impressive stature, taller and broader than the average elf. He was of similar height and strength to Glorfindel, though not quite as elegant. However, Thranduil had an irresistible magnetism, a feral sort of sensuality that could be quite unnerving. Elladan had decided to approach the king about the tonic he and Elrohir had developed and gain his permission to administer it to him that night. Thranduil knew of the existence of the tonic of course, he had given his approval to the healer to administer it to his soldiers, insisting that they received it before he did. Elladan did not realize he was staring at the king until Thranduil's eyes met his own, deep sapphire meeting stormy gray. "My thanks to you and your brother, Lord Elladan. Your tonic will ease the suffering of my warriors and return peace of mind to them." "It was our pleasure, my lord. We are happy that it worked as we hoped it would. We are also in your debt, for you saved the lives of our dearest friends and tutors." Thranduil smiled and raised his glass, his eyes never leaving Elladan's as he peered over the rim of the silver goblet. Elrohir caught the exchange between his brother and the king and turned his eyes away. He felt Legolas' hand upon his thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze, then he turned his gaze to his friend. The gentle smile that curved Legolas' lips warmed his heart. While he and Elladan had to keep up appearances, it always wounded him to see his beloved engage in flirtation with another. After the meal was over and the guests began returning to their quarters, Elladan caught the king's arm and offered to bring the tonic to his quarters personally. At the touch of his hand upon the king's arm, a sudden nightmarish flash invaded his waking sight. It lasted but a fraction of a moment, but it was enough to cause him to blanch and pull his hand away. At the same moment, Thranduil turned and pulled his arm away from Elladan, but he saw that it was too late. "It is not proper to take what is not freely given," he said in a low voice. "No one is permitted to touch me without my prior consent." "I... I am sorry, my lord," Elladan stammered. "I meant no offense, I did not mean to pry. I was not looking for..." Thranduil held up his hand and silenced Elladan. "You are forgiven, Master Elladan. But you can see why such rules exist, no?" Elladan nodded mutely. Thranduil was no stranger to being pursued or wanted; he recognized the offer for what it was, a hopeful opening for an invitation. While a sexual dalliance between him and Elrond's eldest son and heir probably would not help close the distance between their two realms, the Peredhel was far past his majority. He agreed to receive Elladan in his chambers, "I will see you in my quarters..." "As you wish, my lord," Elladan replied, and bowed as Thranduil took his leave. * * * * A soft knock upon his door signaled the arrival of Thranduil's guest. He called for Elladan to enter and turned to greet the Peredhel as he came through the door bearing a tray with a pot and cup. "You have brought this magic potion I see," he said inquisitively, closing the door behind Elladan. "Aye. I said I would, my lord." "How does this work exactly?" he bent down and breathed in the steam from the pot, wrinkling his nose in distaste. "It seeks out and mends the pathways in your mind which retain the visions. It is a combination of healing and calming herbs and magic that our father taught us." "And it only removes the visions, nothing else?" "Aye. It will leave all true memories untouched, only removing the false ones, the ones that do not belong. One effect is pronounced drowsiness, so you should take the potion only when you are ready for sleep." Thranduil nodded. "Well then, let us hold off this potion for awhile. I would like to speak to you, if I may." "Of course, my lord." Elladan bowed his head and followed Thranduil to a sitting area near the large hearth. A fire warmed the room, casting an amber glow upon the rug and stones of the floor. The king's bedchamber was large, as befitted one of his stature. There was a dressing area behind a willow screen, an intricately carved table, full length mirror, an armoire, an overlarge iron bed that had been handcrafted by dwarves and was draped in the finest silk. A heavy curtain covered a portico that lead to an underground mineral pool that was fed by a spring. The water was warm as it came from deep beneath the surface of the earth. Elladan sat in a large, soft chair near the fire as Thranduil took a seat across from him. "What you saw earlier," Thranduil began, "was a glimpse of what I have been living with all these years. It lurks beneath the surface of my consciousness. I am able to control it finally, but for many years it tormented me in both waking and sleeping moments." Elladan's own memories of finding his mother were still fresh in his own memory; there was no tonic that could remove them. "It was Legolas I saw, was it not?" "It is difficult to tell sometimes, all the blood makes him nearly unrecognizable." "Does he know?" "No. He knows I have been haunted by visions, but he does not know what I see, I keep it from him." Elladan nodded. Thranduil rose from his chair and offered Elladan some wine, which the Peredhel accepted. Upon his return, he held out the goblet. "You may touch me now, it is safe to do so," he answered softly. Elladan rose from his chair to stand before the king and extended his hand, accepting the goblet and letting his fingers brush the king's as he took it. Thranduil smiled that sensual smile and Elladan felt a brief tug in his loins. "I am honored that you wanted to be the one to administer the tonic to me." Thranduil spoke softly, his deep, honeyed voice caressing Elladan's ears. "It was the least thing I could do in exchange for your hospitality and aid to us," Elladan answered. He took a sip of his wine and thought for a moment. He then asked, "Is it true you can produce visions of your own in other's minds?" Thranduil chuckled and sat his goblet down upon the table. "My reputation has spread far if that rumor has reached your ears, my friend." He smiled and looked at Elladan. "Aye, but I do not so much produce visions as share memories of my own." "What sort of memories?" Thranduil took the goblet from Elladan's hand and sat it upon the table next to his own. "Memories from my life, like this one..." He took the Peredhel's hands and placed them upon his chest and closed his eyes. Elladan gasped, then his lips curved into a smile. He was in a wondrous forest, one that even rivaled the beauty of Lothlórien. Gently rolling hills, massive trees, ferns, flowers, and all manner of fauna roamed the peaceful wood. Among the trees could be heard a voice singing, one so beautiful that it nearly rent Elladan's heart in two to listen to it. He saw massive caves with carved iron doors, jeweled handles and colored glass lanterns. Tapestries hung upon the walls and intricately carved pillars of stone held the roof aloft. Everywhere there was music, singing, harpists, elf-maids dancing upon feet as light as air, gowns swirling, delicate necks craned and eyes lifted toward the sky as they sang songs to the Valar. He gasped again and murmured, "Beren..." He heard Thranduil answer with a soft, "Yes." He then saw the beautiful Lúthien and realized why so many compared Arwen to her; they looked very much alike with the exception that one had dark hair and the other was fair. He saw Mablung and Oropher dressed in their palace guard uniforms; Oropher was bearing his spear but the shaft only had a few notches upon it. He then saw King Thingol, then finally, Melian the Maia. As quickly as the vision came, it faded like a puff of smoke, and his hands were removed from Thranduil's chest. His palms tingled and felt warm from where they had rested upon the king's chest and he looked at them, rubbing them together before looking into Thranduil's eyes. "Your life in Menegroth," he said softly. Thranduil nodded. "Aye, those were the days of my youth." "It was beautiful, my lord," he said quietly. "I thank you for sharing it with me." "It is a pleasure to remember happier times, my friend. Sharing them with you is my pleasure as well." Thranduil reached for his goblet and took another sip of wine. "Are memories all you can share? Or can you share other things?" Elladan asked. Thranduil turned his alluring gaze to the Peredhel and smiled. "What would you like to see?" "Can you see what is in my mind?" Thranduil took his hands and placed them upon Elladan's head, his thumbs resting lightly upon the curves of the Peredhel's ears. A deep rumble of appreciation came from his chest as his lips parted ever so slightly. His thumbs caressed the curves of Elladan's ears and he heard the answering moan that they wrought. "Is that what you wish? Or is it merely a dream?" he asked sultrily. "I wish it..." Elladan whispered huskily. "Then you shall have it." To be continued... Title: The Dawning, 20/? Author: Larien Elengasse Type: FPS Characters: Glorfindel/Erestor, Legolas/Elladan/Elrohir, Thranduil/Elladan Rating: NC-17 Archive: Rhovanion, OEAM, Mirrormere, Melethryn, Library of Moria. All others please ask. WARNING: Graphic depictions of sexual acts between males, incest, PWP, and some angst and romance. 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… Feedback: Yes please, larienelengasse@yahoo.com Author's Notes: This is a continuation of what has become a string of fics starting with "The Wager"; the Glorfindel/Erestor bug bit me again after a long respite. Since the string has been written out of sequence, this one follows "The Wager" chronologically. Summary: Glorfindel and Erestor find some quality time; Legolas pays a visit to Elrohir; Elladan and Thranduil get to know one another better. Glorfindel smiled as Erestor snuggled close. This bed was far more comfortable than the plain beds in the healer's quarters. It was large and soft, covered in silk and velvet bedding, with thick pillows and a plump mattress. A fire blazed in the hearth, warming their room and casting a bright orange glow. They had a small table with two chairs, an armoire, a large iron tub for bathing, and a basin and pitcher for regular washing. The walls were decorated with tapestries and intricately crafted lanterns, and fresh flowers adorned vases that were set about the room. It was comfortable, luxurious, and very private. His fingers drew lazy circles upon Erestor's bare back, raising gooseflesh on the silken ivory flesh. Erestor moaned softly as he caressed and explored Glorfindel's chest with his elegant hands. So often in the course of their relationship, this was how their lovemaking would begin, with soft touches and quiet moans and sighs. It had been over a week since Glorfindel last made love to Erestor. A week was not so much in the long march of time that was an elf's life, but after so many years without that pleasure, a week felt like an eternity to him. They were both still somewhat limited as to what they could do, and more than once in their past their lovemaking had been strenuous. Glorfindel's eyes fluttered closed as Erestor's mouth found one of his nipples. His lips parted and he drew a ragged breath as his lover's mouth worked it into a hard peak. The advisor's hand kept the inflamed nub at full attention while his mouth moved to its twin. The steady pulsing in his loins increased as his lover's weight settled atop him. Glorfindel's hands began kneading Erestor's soft, fair skin, his fingers digging into the lean muscles that moved beneath the surface, muscles that rippled like waves upon a disturbed pond. He rolled his hips forward, pressing his awakening arousal into his lover's hip. Erestor responded with a deep moan, nipping at his engorged nipple before soothing it with his tongue. It was such a struggle to contain the fire that burned inside him upon just the touch of his lover's hand. His heart was beginning to race; his breaths were coming heavier and faster. A feral growl of pleasure escaped his lips as Erestor swallowed his length, his lover's lips and tongue working their sensual magic upon his heated flesh. He clenched his jaw, then groaned in pain before relaxing it. Erestor paid no heed to his groan of discomfort; his lover's assault was relentless. His hips were pinned to the bed as he struggled to thrust up into the hot, wet embrace of Erestor's mouth. The fire that had been slowly building was now threatening to rage out of control. He could feel his length swelling as it wept ceaselessly upon Erestor's tongue. The councilor moaned, sending cascading waves of ecstasy along his arousal, and he whimpered in response. He was undone, completely at the mercy of his dark, smoldering lover. Erestor gripped the base of his engorged length, staving off his release as he continued to torment him with his mouth. Long, slow strokes of his lover's deft hands upon his overheated and slick length were punctuated by squeezes at the tip, Erestor's thumb massaging and spreading the now abundant fluid that leaked from it. He groaned deeply as Erestor's mouth left his arousal and took the soft pouch of skin that lay beneath his length inside, and he spread his legs wide, offering himself to his dark councilor with no shame. A plaintive cry escaped his lips as his body was breached by Erestor's tongue, the slick muscle sliding in and out of his entrance with practiced ease. Breathless pleas escaped Glorfindel's lips, promises to do everything from slay dragons to humble himself in the most creative of ways. Erestor smiled in satisfaction and acquiesced, unwilling to withhold fulfillment from his lover any longer. He reached for a jar of healing salve that had been left behind and used it to generously coat his length. He moved so that his face hovered over his beloved's, their open mouths just out of reach of one another as his fingers slid inside Glorfindel's body. Glorfindel bowed off the bed and cried out as Erestor found his mark, the fingers of one hand buried deep in his body, the fingers of the other wrapped around his engorged arousal with surprising force. A whimper of pain escaped his lips and Erestor soothed him, placing soft kisses upon his jaw and murmuring words of comfort to him. The pain in his jaw subsided and he breathed deeply, shuddering with each touch of his lover's fingers to that place inside him that turned his blood to liquid fire. "Do not make me wait, Erestor, not any longer..." he whispered hoarsely. Erestor nodded and consumed the warrior's mouth; his tongue sweeping over Glorfindel's own before releasing it. He then buried himself in his lover's willing body, sliding in to the root before beginning to ride out his pleasure. He buried his face in Glorfindel's neck, tongue licking, teeth marking the smooth flesh as he felt Glorfindel's legs wrap tightly around his waist. His shoulder ached from the strain of holding himself off his lover, but he quickly pushed the pain away as he thrust deeper and harder into his beloved's strong body. He shifted his weight to his uninjured side and took Glorfindel in hand, pumping his lover's length with his slick fist. "Come for me, my love," he whispered. "I want you to find your release as I find my own..." Glorfindel bit down upon Erestor's neck, earning an answering groan from his lover before his body tightened with surprising force, wrenching a strangled cry from his lips as he spilled himself between their sweat slicked bodies. Erestor growled in response, his own climax coming as he emptied himself deep inside Glorfindel's passage. After several moments of quiet, the only sound heard being their rough breathing, Glorfindel whispered hoarsely, "Sweet Eru, Erestor..." Erestor chuckled as he lay upon Glorfindel's chest. "Mmm... that was most pleasant, Glorfindel," he murmured against the warrior's right pectoral muscle. He slowly raised himself off his beloved and looked into his eyes as he caressed his cheek with the back of his hand. "Is your jaw too painful?" Glorfindel smiled and shook his head. "In the heat of the moment I forgot myself, it would seem..." Erestor trailed soft kisses upon the pink scar. "Forgive me for driving you to such distraction, lover..." Glorfindel purred appreciatively, "Hmmm... I do believe I can do that." They lay quietly in one another's arms for long moments before rising gingerly and running a hot bath to soothe their aches. * * * * Elrohir sat in the middle of his bed, dressed in his sleeping gown as he brushed his hair. His eyes were clouded with regret as he thought about what Elladan would be doing in that moment. He was not sure he wanted his twin to be alone with Thranduil, but he had not voiced his opposition, instead agreeing to what Elladan wanted, which was at that moment, Thranduil. A soft knock upon his door broke his unpleasant reverie and he called for his visitor to answer. Legolas' head poked through the door. "May I come in?" he asked softly. Elrohir smiled and nodded. "Of course, my prince." He rose from the bed, placing the hairbrush upon the bedside table. Legolas entered and smiled as Elrohir embraced him, nestling his head in the crook between neck and shoulder. He stroked Elrohir's thick, silken hair as he felt Elrohir's hands caress his back through the thin silk of his night robe. "I am glad you came, Legolas" Elrohir said softly. "I was not looking forward to spending the evening alone." "Elladan is with my father, is he not?" "Aye, and most likely will be for the rest of the night." Elrohir drew back and placed a gentle kiss upon Legolas' lips. The kiss deepened as he sought entrance into the prince's mouth. Legolas complied, opening to Elrohir and allowing him to taste him for as long as he wished. He returned the kiss with equal vigor as he drew the Prince of Imladris deeper into his embrace. As their passions mounted, Elrohir could feel Legolas' hands in his hair, his fingers gripping him tightly. His own hands traveled down the prince's long back, settling on the firm, round globes of his buttocks and squeezing possessively. Legolas' deep moan earned a like one from him as he arched against his prince. As they separated, Legolas whispered, "You want me this way? Without Elladan here?" He had never lain with them separately before and was unsure it was a wise thing to do. "Yes," Elrohir answered with a husky murmur. "I do not need Elladan here to want you this way." "I do not wish to be a consolation prize or substitute, Elrohir," Legolas answered softly. Elrohir caressed Legolas' face and answered, "You are not. I always want you this way; you are ever in my thoughts..." "As you are in mine," Legolas answered, before claiming Elrohir's mouth once more. They moved to the bed, divesting one another of their sleeping robes along the way. Elrohir pulled Legolas down to him, wrapping his long legs and arms around his princely lover. "Take me, Legolas," he whispered. "I want to feel you inside me..." Legolas hesitated. He knew what it meant for Elrohir to give himself to him without the presence of his brother. It was an understanding the twins had; Elrohir was submissive to Elladan in their coupling. Elrohir had given himself to Legolas before, but Legolas had assumed it was something Elladan and he had worked out between themselves. Now Elrohir offered himself without his twin there, and Legolas wondered how Elladan would feel about that. Elrohir sensed Legolas' hesitation, and he took the prince's face in his hands. "You do not want me?" he asked softly. "I do, I want you very much," Legolas answered. "But you do this and..." "Elladan is not here," Elrohir answered. Legolas nodded. "He is not my keeper, Legolas. What I do with my body and who I give myself to is my choice, not his." "I understand that... yet..." "You do not want to come between us. I know," Elrohir answered. "Elladan knows how I feel about you, he knows that I do not see you as just another lover. I offer myself to you because I care deeply for you; indeed, I love you. I love how you feel inside me. I love how you hold me and touch me as though I were some precious object given into your care. I love the way you feel and taste and smell... Please, my prince. Do not deny me this..." Legolas looked into Elrohir's sparkling gray eyes and whispered against his lips, "I will deny you nothing..." * * * * Elladan rose to the balls of his feet, whimpering as Thranduil hungrily claimed his mouth. It was not like him to be so yielding and submissive, but if they were to join their bodies, he knew that was how it would have to be; the king yielded to no one. 'Valar, he tastes so good... he kisses so good...' Elladan thought to himself. The heady aroma of almonds and soft cedar blended in a smoky, musky scent that alone would drive him to distraction. The king's mouth was so warm, so wet, his lips so soft yet still so commanding; his hands so strong and possessive... The first touch of Thranduil's hand upon his bare chest nearly caused him to moan like an innocent. Skilled fingers manipulated and explored his body, raking through the light dusting of hair upon his chest, tugging gently upon it before traveling lower. All the while, that mouth kept plundering his own, delving deeper, drinking of him. Within a few moments, he was lost and utterly at the king's mercy, his body arching into Thranduil's own, his hands clutching at the Sinda's broad back. "Ah gods," he groaned as Thranduil's fingers found their way inside his robe, causing it to fall to the floor. He tugged and pulled at the king's robe until Thranduil shrugged out of it, letting it pool at his ankles on the floor. Elladan leaned his head back as Thranduil's mouth left his own and traveled to his neck. The thin slip of silk that made up his loincloth was all that separated them. The king's arousal pressed firmly into his hip and his own strained against the silken barrier that stood between them. "You are unusually beautiful, son of Elrond," Thranduil murmured. "I have never lain with one who had blood of the Edain. The mixture of it with your Eldar blood is quite interesting, and quite sensual..." Thranduil pulled away, keeping Elladan's hand and leading him toward the bed. Elladan took in the king's form with his eyes, his gaze traveling over the hard muscles and alabaster skin that glided over them. 'So much like his son, yet still so different...' he mused. As they arrived at the bed, he heard the king ask, "Do I please you?" He could not prevent the smile that curved his full lips. "Aye. You are most beautiful, my lord." He barked in surprise as the king tossed him onto the bed, then mounted it, straddling his hips. "I am most glad to hear it," Thranduil answered with a smile. "I sense you do not yield often. It is something you will grow accustomed to this night." Elladan nodded mutely, his hands fisting the sheets as Thranduil removed his loincloth. As Thranduil consumed him, he arched off the bed, instantly wanting to thrust deep into the wet heat that surrounded him. The king grasped his hips, pinning him to the bed as he worked his swollen arousal with unparalleled skill. He would bring him to the brink of release time and again, yet each time withholding what he so desperately wanted. There was no pretense between them, no sweet words of romance; there was only heat and want and lust so great he was not sure he could stand it. Without preamble, Thranduil rolled him to his stomach and lifted his hips. His arousal pulsated painfully between his legs, twitching and rising up to touch his stomach before lowering again. He closed his eyes, trying to contain the apprehension he felt as warmed oil drizzled between his buttocks. Thranduil's wicked, sinful mouth began teasing his flesh again, bestowing bites and sensual kisses to his back and buttocks. 'Do not beg,' he told himself. 'Just do not beg...' This loss of control was frightening, and for just a moment, he had a glimmer of what Elrohir must have felt their first time. It was not the first time that Elladan had been taken by another, but it was the first time anyone other than Elrohir had done it, and it was the first time in a very long time. He whimpered as he was breached by a single slick finger, his entrance reflexively tightening around the single digit. A second was added, then a third, and he was prepared diligently by his kingly lover. A gut wrenching cry escaped him as he was filled past what he thought he could bear; Thranduil did not stop until he was seated fully inside him. He breathed deeply, concentrating on the feel of the king's hands caressing his back and his deep, hypnotic voice murmuring words of encouragement. Thranduil's hand closed around his length, stroking him slowly, taking his focus away from the burning sensation he felt and placing it on the insistent ache in his loins. As he began to relax, the king began to move, slowly at first but then increasing the pace as desire built between them. "Yes," he whispered hoarsely. "Oh gods, yes..." He began rocking back to meet Thranduil's thrusts before thrusting forward into his strong hand. Again, Thranduil denied him release, squeezing him about the root as he whimpered in frustration. Finally, when he thought he could bear no more, when he thought he would die of pleasure, Thranduil's hand worked his length quickly and he cried out as he spilt himself upon the bed, his body bowing forward as Thranduil slammed deep inside him and found his own release. His arms trembled; his body shook with the force of his climax, and he felt the Sindar King gently take him in his arms and lie him upon the bed. He struggled to calm his breathing; his hands were trembling as he entwined his fingers with Thranduil's and allowed the king to hold him tight against his chest. Thranduil's soft, soft lips caressed his ear and his neck; his husky, hypnotic voice murmuring words of praise and appreciation into his ears. His thoughts drifted to his twin as reverie took him, and his body stilled inside Thranduil's protective embrace. To be continued...