Title: The Dawning, 21/? 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 finds out his secret has been discovered and he has a suspicion about Legolas; Glorfindel is confronted with an inevitable change in his relationship with Erestor. Elladan awoke in the middle of the night. Thranduil still held him close, breathing softly near his ear. He shifted and the king awoke instantly. "Are you well, Master Elladan?" Thranduil asked softly. "Aye," Elladan answered. "You should take the potion now, you will sleep more soundly this night." "I suppose I should," Thranduil answered. "And I imagine you are anxious to return to the arms of your brother." Elladan could not suppress the gasp that escaped him. 'How could he know?' he thought frantically. At first, he thought perhaps Legolas had told him, but then he thought the better of it. Then he wondered if the king had not read his mind without his knowledge, but again, Thranduil did not seem the type. "I can see you are wondering how it is I know about the nature of your relationship with Elrohir," Thranduil said smoothly, sauntering across the room to retrieve the kettle that contained the herbal concoction. "Legolas did not reveal your secret to me, nor would he even if I had pressed him to do so; he is a good prince and honors his word. I am very perceptive, Elladan, and my powers of perception are not limited to battle tactics and the whereabouts of ungol and yrch." He hung the kettle on a hook inside the fireplace so that the contents of it would become warm again. "I took note of the way you looked at one another when you thought no one else was looking, I have also seen the small displays of affection that went unnoticed by others." Elladan looked at the bed as his cheeks burned. It was the first time he had been confronted by an elder about his relationship with Elrohir and he was struggling with how to handle it. "As I said to my son," Thranduil continued. "Love is love, it matters not what unusual forms it may take." Elladan looked up at Thranduil and answered, "Perhaps not to you, my lord. But it most certainly matters to others." Thranduil leaned against the mantle, completely comfortable in his nudity. "Then those others are unfortunate, my friend. For anyone who has felt the sort of love you have for Elrohir would surely recognize it and celebrate it, as a love like that should be celebrated." Elladan smiled at his new friend and nodded. Thranduil gazed upon him, looking so young despite his age, sitting in the middle of his wide bed with the sheets pooled around his waist. "By Elbereth, you are a vision, Elladan," he said softly. "So like your father was at your age." "You knew my father in his youth?" Elladan asked softly. "I knew of him, but we were not friends. My father was suspicious of the Noldor, as were all my people after the ruin of Doriath. While we dwelt as exiles together, we kept separate camps and we rarely spoke. I saw him again, in Lindon, after Fëanor's sons raided our haven." He heard the brew begin to boil and folded a thick cloth in his hand, grasping the handle and placing the hot kettle upon an iron trivet. He picked up the small cup and poured the steaming liquid into it, then carried it back to the bed. He sat the cup down and slid back beneath the sheets, pulling the blanket back over him. "Father rarely speaks of his youth," Elladan said softly. "It is no doubt painful for him to do so," Thranduil continued. "He lost both his parents, then lost Elros to his choice... You father has borne much in his life in the way of burdens." Elladan nodded, then took a deep breath and changed the subject. "Drink the potion down as quickly as you can," Elladan said quietly. "It tastes most foul but works very well." Thranduil nodded and swallowed the hot liquid in one gulp, his expression quickly turning to one of disgust. "That is terrible..." he grumbled as he set the cup down. Elladan chuckled and kissed his cheek. "I am sorry that we could not find away to disguise the bad taste." Thranduil slid back underneath the covers and pulled Elladan to him. "Stay with me until I fall asleep?" Elladan smiled and nodded. "Aye, that I will do." He pressed a soft kiss to the king's lips and laid his head upon Thranduil's shoulder, listening to his slow, rhythmic breathing. * * * * Legolas held Elrohir close, his cheek resting upon his friend's hair, Elrohir's back warm against his stomach and chest. It felt good to hold another this way, to sleep beside another and be comforted with their presence. He was not foolish enough to believe that this would ever happen again, and in the end, choices would be made, and Elrohir would choose Elladan. This did not make him sad. For as much as he cared for Elrohir, and for Elladan, he had always known they belonged together and he would never want to come between them. No he was saving his heart for another, for some unknown being that waited for him too, just as the twins saved their hearts for one another. He heard the soft click of the latch and heard the door open slowly. He closed his eyes as light ent He blinked, and in the shadows, he saw Elladan. Being only half-elven themselves, the twins would often forget he could see more and hear more than they could. Elladan watched them from the shadows; he was not moving. Elladan looked at Legolas and Elrohir snuggled beneath the covers. He knew in his heart what had transpired between them; Elrohir had given himself to Legolas, just as Elrohir had given himself to him that afternoon. It stung him to know Elrohir had done this without him present, not because of the act itself, but because of the feeling contained within it. After all, had he not just given himself to Legolas' father? But for all the kindness Thranduil showed him, there was no love there, not like there was between Elrohir and Legolas. It was the affection his brother had for the prince that left him feeling insecure. For a moment he thought, 'Perhaps this would be better for everyone; perhaps this would spare us pain...' With Legolas, Elrohir had a chance to live a normal life, a life in which they could walk arm and arm, touch and kiss one another without hiding. His heart clenched in his chest at the thought of walking away from Elrohir; he did not know if he had the strength to do it. Slowly he made his way toward the bed, letting his robe fall to the floor and carefully climbing into the bed beside Legolas. The prince rolled to his back and looked into his eyes; Legolas looked worried. "Tell me you are not angry with us," Legolas said softly. "I could not bear it if you were..." Elladan shifted so that he lay atop the prince and gently took his face in his hands. "I am not angry," he answered in a soft whisper. He caressed Legolas' face and watched his eyes close and his breaths grow deeper. "I have something for you, my prince," he murmured, then he took Legolas' mouth with a deep hunger. Legolas whimpered as Elladan plundered his mouth. He clutched at the Peredhel's shoulders, his strong, archer's fingers digging into the muscle. Elladan straddled him, pinning him to the bed with his weight as he undulated atop him, the Peredhel's tongue sweeping over his own in a deep, hungry kiss. He was utterly awash in his father's scent, in his taste, as Elladan claimed his mouth. He could feel his heart racing in his chest and he began to struggle. Elladan drew back and breathed deeply, then stared into Legolas' wide eyes. "Let me up," Legolas said in a breathless whisper. "Did you not like my present?" he asked softly. Legolas closed his eyes, fighting the stinging sensation that heralded tears. "I said, let me up, Elladan..." "Very well." Elladan rolled to the side and Legolas quickly exited the bed. Elrohir awoke and rubbed his face. "Where are you going, Legolas?" he asked groggily. "It is time I returned to my room," Legolas answered quietly as he pulled on his robe. "What? Why?" Elrohir asked confusedly, then cast a glance toward his twin. "Good night, Elrohir," he said softly, bending over and giving his friend a kiss upon the forehead. "I will see the two of you at the morning meal." He left quickly, not giving Elladan a chance to kiss him again, nor Elrohir a chance to protest. Elrohir turned to his twin. "What did you do, Elladan? Why did he leave?" Elladan laid back and drew Elrohir into his arms. "Nothing. I kissed him, 'tis all. I think he wanted to give us time alone." "You smell like Thranduil," Elrohir murmured. Suddenly the truth of the matter sank in. He sat up abruptly and barked at his twin. "You kissed him after lying with his father? You smell like him, you probably taste like him... How could you do that, Elladan?" "I was not thinking..." Elladan began. "Do not lie to me..." Elrohir growled. "I was testing a suspicion," Elladan answered. "I am not sure if I am right or wrong, but I will apologize on the morrow in either case." He pulled Elrohir back into his arms. "Come, brother, do not be angry with me..." Elrohir reluctantly laid his head upon Elladan's chest and closed his eyes, only wanting to find reverie again. * * * * Legolas quickly made his way through the corridors of his home. He closed the door to his bedchamber behind him and locked it, and then he fell upon the bed and struggled to regain his composure. He was trembling and suddenly felt cold. Quickly, he climbed beneath the covers and pulled them to his chin. He began recalling the names of all the Sindar nobles, reciting them in alphabetical order. He had done this exercise often as a youngster, when his nerves needed calming. The slow, methodical chanting of the names of his ancestors began to calm his racing heart, and he continued until reverie took him again, the name of his grandfather dying upon his lips as he fell into a deep sleep. * * * * Glorfindel blinked as he returned from reverie. He absently noted that the potion the twins had administered worked toward an added benefit; the visions Sauron had planted in his mind during their confrontation in Eregion were gone. Glimpses of those visions had often surfaced in his dreams; though not as vividly as they had earlier on. His dreams last night were of happy days in Aman, days spent swimming in the ocean and climbing friendly trees. A satisfied smile curved his lips and he began to roll over, only to find himself trapped, pinned against the bed under his lover's weight. Erestor slept soundly, it was much needed rest after his wounding and the torment of the visions. He breathed slowly, his chest rising and falling, his gently pursed lips resting upon his beloved's shoulder. He felt Glorfindel move beneath him and he mumbled, snuggling closer and holding his beloved possessively. "I love you..." he mumbled from that place half way between waking and dreaming. Glorfindel felt a catch in his chest. Erestor's words were unclear, but he had a suspicion of what was said. They had danced around it since their relationship had taken on this new dimension. Of course, he had often said he loved Erestor, and Erestor had said that he loved him as well. However, this time was different. This was not love born of familiarity or friendship. This was not love born of duty. This was a different kind of love; one he had not had experience with before. This kind of love frightened him and shook him to his core. Erestor murmured again and Glorfindel felt his lover stir upon his back before pressing a kiss to his shoulder blade then rising off his back. Erestor gripped his shoulder and encouraged him to roll to his back, then settled himself upon his chest. "I adore sleeping on you," Erestor mumbled sleepily. "Strange that something so hard can be so comfortable..." Glorfindel smiled wearily, pushing away the fear his lover's words had sparked inside him. "Lucky for me, you are not so heavy," he answered in as playful a manner as he could muster. Erestor chuckled and pressed a kiss to his lover's chest. "I find myself to be very hungry," he murmured. "'Tis no wonder," Glorfindel answered. "What with how you exerted yourself last night." Erestor sat up and caressed Glorfindel's face. "How fare you this morning, my lion?" "I am fine, Erestor," Glorfindel answered with a smile. "And I am hungry, like you." "Shall we emerge and find our way to Thranduil's dining hall? I think being on our feet for awhile will do us some good." "Agreed. But first you must let me out of the bed," Glorfindel answered with a wolfish grin. "You are the one who said you liked it when I was demanding and I took charge." Glorfindel took Erestor's face in his hands as he chuckled. He then drew his lover into a kiss before answering. "Aye, I did indeed..." Erestor smiled. Glorfindel had never seen Erestor look so beautiful; his lover's eyes glistened with happiness. "Come, my raven, let us rejoin the land of the living..." They rose from the bed and dressed, then found a chambermaid to direct them toward the dining hall. To be continued... Title: The Dawning, 22/? 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: Elrohir confronts Elladan; Elladan and Legolas talk. "What exactly is this suspicion you needed confirmed last night?" Elrohir asked his twin as he braided his hair. "I have found myself wondering why our lovely prince does not have someone he calls his own," Elladan called from his adjoining room. "I thought perhaps he suffered from a love as unusual as ours..." Elladan entered Elrohir's room, fumbling with the clasps on the loaned tunic. Elrohir rose from his seat and turned to face his twin. "I am not sure I understand you, brother," he answered with concern. "Elrohir, of all people you should understand me perfectly. We both know that sometimes love chooses unusual mates for our hearts. We are proof of that. Father was proof of that..." "We do not know the truth about father, Elladan," Elrohir cautioned. "You are only guessing because of part of a letter you found, one that we have not seen the full matter of." Elladan shrugged. "My intuition tells me what I believe, Elrohir. Besides, what does it matter if father loved Elros as you and I love one another? Are you ashamed of our love?" Elrohir batted Elladan's hands away and worked the intricate clasps upon his twin's tunic. "No, of course I am not. But we both know that not everyone feels the same way. Besides, father has never spoken of it, and I think it improper to make assumptions without knowing all there is to know. What has this to do with Legolas?" "Our prince keeps his heart for someone. He says he knows not who, but I suspect in truth he does." Elrohir's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Elladan. Do not..." "Do not what? Help him see that his fear is without reason? Help him find love as we have?" "You know not what you do. You cannot meddle in the lives of others this way, Elladan. This could be very painful to him. Tell me that the king did not ask you to do this..." "No! No... of course he did not. However, he does know about us." Elladan changed the subject. "What? Oh, sweet Elbereth..." Elrohir buried his face in his hands. Elladan placed his hands on Elrohir's shoulders. "Have no fear, my love. He knows and sees no harm in it. He understands, Elrohir, and has promised to keep our secret safe." "How does he know? Did you tell him?" "Of course not! I would never tell a living soul about us. Perhaps he knows in the same way Legolas did; perhaps our Sindar kin have far greater powers of intuition than any suspect." "Elladan, promise me that you will not meddle in whatever may be between Legolas and his father. If there is anything beyond a father-son bond, then it is not for us to pry." Elladan grumbled then nodded. "Aye, I promise. I could be wrong, I probably am." "Legolas is our dear friend, I would not have that change because of your 'intuition'..." "Agreed. I will apologize for my rash actions last night and leave it at that." "Thank you..." Elrohir answered softly. Elladan took Elrohir into his arms and held him close. "I love you, Elrohir. You are my heart; you are my life. I could never do anything to hurt you..." "I love you, Elladan," Elrohir answered. "I know you would never hurt me, nor would I hurt you." Elladan took Elrohir's face in his hands. "You know that I would give you anything in my power, yes?" Elrohir smiled. "Aye, I do. And I would do the same." Elladan kissed Elrohir softly upon the lips. "Come, my beauty. Let us join our friends for the morning meal." "Did you remember to unmake your bed?" Elrohir asked quietly. Elladan's eyes widened and he dashed into then next room. Elrohir chuckled and shook his head as he waited for his twin to return. "It seems I have misplaced my wits this morning," Elladan grumbled as he returned. "It would be awkward to explain why your bed is mussed and mine is not..." "Perhaps you are delirious with hunger, my brother..." Elrohir teased. "Perhaps," Elladan answered with a smile. "Come, let us depart..." Elrohir nodded and followed his twin out of his bedchamber. * * * * As they strolled slowly down the hall, Glorfindel and Erestor met up with the twins. The four companions entered the dining hall to find guests coming and going at will. Thranduil sat at the head of the table, dressed in his courtly attire: a tunic and leggings in colors of green and tan, with an elaborate velvet robe overlying them. His hair was braided in formal fashion, his flaxen mane crowned with a mithril circlet containing spring foliage. Legolas sat at his side, dressed in warrior's garb. Elladan took a seat beside Legolas with Elrohir next to him, as Glorfindel and Erestor sat on the king's left, with Glorfindel next to Thranduil. "How fare my guests this morning?" Thranduil asked smoothly. "Are you well rested and mending with good speed?" Glorfindel nodded. "Our thanks to you, my lord, for your gracious hospitality and care. We should not burden you too much longer." Thranduil smiled. "You are no burden, my friends. However, I am aware of your urgent mission to the Golden Wood, and would not delay you more than necessary. As soon as you are given leave to go, you shall have escort." "And whom will give us this leave?" Erestor asked. "We will," the twins answered in unison. "And I will provide escort," Legolas finished. Glorfindel raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Well, that is settled then. Erestor, we are at the mercy of our pupils and the good prince." Erestor smiled, then raised his glass. "And we shall serve accordingly." The meal passed with friendly talk of goings on in Imladris and the eastern lands, with things turning more serious as Thranduil conferred with Glorfindel and company in regards to the route they should take upon leaving Mirkwood. As the gathering adjourned and the king rose to make his way toward council chambers, he touched Elladan upon the shoulder. "My thanks to you, Elladan. My dreams were peaceful last night." Elladan smiled and bowed his head. "I am glad to hear it, my lord." Thranduil smiled and nodded, then turned and departed the dining hall. Elladan chatted with Erestor, watching Legolas and Elrohir out of the corner of his eye. The prince was unusually solemn, and the time for his apology had come. He excused himself, leaving Glorfindel and Erestor's company and approaching the prince. "Legolas? Might I have a word?" Elrohir touched Legolas upon the arm and left him alone with his twin. "Can we walk out of doors?" Legolas nodded and led Elladan toward the secret gardens. "The prince seems to have a weight upon his soul," Erestor remarked softly. "Aye," Elrohir answered. "I believe it has to do with the upcoming journey. These woods are dangerous and he takes our safety as his personal duty. Come, I think a visit to Mirkwood's thermal pools would do the both of you quite a bit of good." Glorfindel and Erestor rose from their chairs and followed Elrohir toward the public baths. * * * * "What is it you would say to me, Elladan?" Legolas asked softly as they entered the private gardens. "I want to apologize to you for my actions last night," Elladan answered as Legolas guided him to a low bench. "It was insensitive of me to do what I did, considering..." "Where you had just come from..." Legolas finished for him. "Aye. I gave no thought to how that would make you feel. I only gave thought to what I wanted..." "Which was to separate Elrohir and me." "No..." "Elladan, we are friends, the three of us. I know Elrohir's heart belongs to you, and only to you. He loves me, this is true, but it is a love that comes from friendship and affection, not a love that is meant to last through the ages. That love is only for you." "You love him, yes?" "Aye, I do. But I love you as well, and in the same way. It is true that Elrohir and I are a bit closer than you and I are, but I think that is because you and I are too much alike." Elladan smiled. "We are. You are as fiercely protective of those you love as I am. I had thought that perhaps you were unhappy about my liaison with your father..." Legolas laughed. "Elladan, my father is more than capable of defending himself, he does not need me for that. Besides, if anyone was to need defending, it would be you, not him." Elladan chuckled. "True." "I only went to Elrohir because I sensed he was troubled about your being with my father. I sensed he did not want to be alone." "In my single minded way, I did not see that my laying with your father would trouble Elrohir so. He and I have both had other lovers in the past; but always it was with one another's consent. I did not ask Elrohir if he approved, I merely told him what I wanted. Being Elrohir, he did not refuse me. It was selfish, I recognize this now." "But you are forgiven, yes?" "Of course, Elrohir never withholds forgiveness." Elladan took Legolas' hand in his own. "Tell me something, Legolas..." "Yes?" "Who is it that you keep your heart for?" "I know not..." "Are you sure? You know all the secrets that Elrohir and I share. Would you withhold from us, who have been so forthcoming with you?" "I withhold nothing. I do not know to whom my heart will belong, I have yet to meet them. Why do you say such a thing?" "Something in your eyes made me think that there was more to this than would seem to be. I sensed that you harbored a secret. Perhaps it is buried so deep that even you do not see it?" "I hold no secret from you, Elladan." "Very well. I want you to know that you can trust Elrohir and me with anything you may feel. We would never betray your confidence, nor pass judgement." "I know this," Legolas answered softly. "We are still friends, yes?" "Of course..." Elladan and Legolas embraced, and Elladan bestowed a gentle kiss upon Legolas' lips. He caressed the prince's face with his fingertips, admiring the way his skin warmed to his touch, the way his lips parted and curved into a smile, the way his eyes fluttered shut. "What a rare beauty you possess," he whispered. "You are a gift to us, Legolas..." "It is I who has been given a gift, the gift of your friendship and love..." Elladan kissed him again, softly, the tip of his tongue gently playing about the prince's mouth. "I have patrol..." Legolas whispered as they broke their kiss. "I would not keep you from your duty, though I would wish to hold you longer." He released Legolas and rose, extending his hand. Legolas smiled and took Elladan's hand, then they walked from the gardens together. To be continued... Title: The Dawning, 23/? Author: Larien Elengasse Type: FPS Characters: Glorfindel/Erestor, Elladan/Elrohir, Legolas, Thranduil, Arwen Rating: NC-17 Beta: Alex 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: The travelers depart; Elladan has a realization; Glorfindel and Erestor spend some quality time and so do the twins. The morning was bright as the travelers met in the courtyard outside the caves. Glorfindel checked their supplies before mounting without difficulty, and Elladan sat astride his horse watching Legolas say farewell to his father. Something about the two nagged him. Thranduil was, in all respects, a fine father. He had raised his son well, taught him duty and nobility, and personally trained him to be an excellent warrior. One look at the two of them proved how proud Thranduil was of his son and how much he loved him. Legolas was proud of his father as well and loyal beyond question. While Elladan's suspicions were difficult to explain, they had not been extinguished by Legolas' assurances that he had yet to find his heart's mate. Something in Legolas' eyes as he gazed upon his father told him otherwise. The look wasn't one of want or desire, nor one of guilt or hidden secrets... It was a look of love that he had only seen from one other before; it was a look that spoke of a love so profound, so deep, that not even death would break it. Yes, there was only one who had that same look in his eye, and that look was the one Elrohir gave him. 'This is a love that transcends the physical,' Elladan mused. 'He loves Thranduil as I love Elrohir, only he does not understand it.' "Elladan?" His twin's voice broke his reverie, and he turned to face Elrohir, a misty smile upon his face. "What is it?" Elladan patted his twin on the shoulder. "I was wrong, Elrohir, about Legolas," he whispered. Elrohir smiled. "So you will interfere no more?" "I will interfere no more." "Promise?" "I swear it." "Good." Elladan turned to look at Legolas and his father. Thranduil embraced him, clasping his son tight to his chest as a smile curved his lips. Legolas' fingers dug into the thick robe his father wore; his face nestled in Thranduil's flaxen hair. 'Oh you do not know it, my prince' Elladan thought as a wistful smile curved his lips. 'But he does. He feels the bond and has made peace with it.' "Be careful, my son," Thranduil said softly. "And return as quickly as you may. I have been without your gentle council for far too long as of late." Legolas smiled. "I will, father. I have missed you and missed my home." Legolas pulled back and Thranduil caressed his cheek with the back of his hand. "The Valar blessed me the day you were born. Never have I felt so undeserving of another's love." Legolas smiled. "Stop talking that way... you know it is bad luck." "Of course. See? I need you to remind me of these things. Go on, I will look for your return." "Ten risings of Ithil!" Legolas called as he ran down the stairs. "Nine settings of Anor!" Thranduil answered with a smile. "May the Valar grant you speed and safe passage!" Legolas swung onto his mare's back and gave the signal to depart. They raised their hands in farewell, and Elladan cast a smile back over his shoulder to the king. Thranduil covered his heart with his hand and bowed his head, his lips curved into a smile. The courtyard was filled with the clatter of hooves as the party departed. * * * * Heavy mist blanketed the gently rolling hills of the Vales of the Anduin. The tributary of the Gladden River lay before them, glistening in the early dawn light. Legolas' eyes scanned the valley floor, his ears listening for signs of danger. Glorfindel also perused their surroundings; his warrior's senses seeking any sign that they were being watched. Glorfindel looked at Erestor and nodded. Erestor then turned to the twins and did the same. Elladan and Elrohir each leaned over, bestowing a gentle kiss to Legolas' cheeks, saying their silent farewell as they eased their mounts into the open. Legolas' guard had their bows at the ready, in case trouble they had not sensed lie in wait. 'Two more days,' Legolas thought. 'They have but a two day ride until they are under the lady's protection. Valar keep them until then...' They watched until the travelers disappeared into the mist, then stayed until they could hear them no longer. Glorfindel had assured him that the guards of the eastern fences of Lórien would be within a day's ride and that they would be fine. Legolas prayed he was right, as he reluctantly signaled to his regiment to turn toward home. They crossed the low point of the river, then reached the trees in little time. Once they were no longer in the open, Erestor sighed in relief. 'At least we will encounter no more spiders,' he thought. He looked forward to seeing Lórien again, with its towering Mellyrn and soft lights. He looked forward to sleeping under the stars and bathing in clear running brooks. So much of the great wood had been changed when Dol Guldur was built, and now the shadow was spreading again. Erestor was determined to speak with Galadriel and Celeborn about it; something had to be done. While the danger of Mirkwood was behind them, they were still not entirely safe. He focused his thoughts on the road ahead, staying alert to any danger they might encounter. * * * * In less than two days time, they arrived in Caras Galadhon. Arwen ran forward and laughed as her brothers embraced her, tickling her affectionately. Erestor handed his horse to one of the grooms and followed Haldir toward the lord and lady's flet with Glorfindel in tow. The twins would spend time with their sister before joining their grandparents for the evening meal. The letter to Galadriel and Celeborn was still in his pack, unopened and bearing the seal of Imladris upon it; he would be glad when it was delivered. Had they been ambushed, had the letter been taken, things would swiftly head toward a disastrous end. Prudence was needed now, prudence and careful planning. These were dangerous times for rash action. The meeting with the Lord and Lady of the Wood went as expected, and after lengthy conversation, including their misadventure that was the cause of their delayed arrival, Glorfindel and Erestor were shown to their talan. Glorfindel was amused that Galadriel had seen to it that they were housed together and in a very private location. Erestor was not so much amused as embarrassed. "How have I ended up with such a prude for a lover?" Glorfindel teased, as Erestor scrambled through the trap door. "It is obvious that the lady thinks we will be engaged in loud and lascivious acts, or she would not have put us so far out of the way," Erestor grumbled. Glorfindel grabbed Erestor and roughly pulled him close. "Ah, but we will, my raven... we will be involved in loud and lascivious acts... One cannot fault the lady for being wise." Erestor struggled in Glorfindel's grasp. The Elda held him tight about the waist, and as he writhed against him, he felt Glorfindel's desire stir against his backside. "Glorfindel! Can you think of nothing else?" "Do you expect me to, looking the way you do? It has been ages since I have touched you..." he murmured against Erestor's ear. "Ages?" he scoffed. "It has been but eight days..." "Eight days, eight months, it is all the same to me, my dark beauty." As Glorfindel's tongue flicked against his ear, Erestor stilled, a shuddering gasp escaping his lips. "Do you remember the last time I held you thusly?" Glorfindel purred into Erestor's ear, the Elda's hands sliding in a delicious rhythm over his hips and thighs. "No..." He lied. He remembered perfectly well... it was the night of Legolas' arrival in Imladris. "You stood on the edge of the dance floor, that enticing look of boredom on your face. You are always so alluring when you are bored, Erestor." A nip to his earlobe caused him to whimper and arch slightly against his lover. "I had just come in from patrol and you were harassing me about whether or not I had bathed..." A trembling, "Oh..." escaped his lips. "The temptation to shove you into the cloak closet and take you then and there was almost insurmountable... Nothing makes me want you more than when you feign indifference..." A shudder wracked his frame as Glorfindel's neatly trimmed nails raked his thighs through the suede of his riding pants. His hands flew behind him, grasping Glorfindel's buttocks and pulling him roughly against him. His lover chuckled, the deep, sensual rumble emitting from his chest causing Erestor's length to swell inside his too confining leggings. "Valar, yes," Erestor whispered, as Glorfindel pulled his braid aside and sunk his teeth into his neck, marking him. He growled low as he felt the blood rise and pool beneath the surface of his skin, his arousal throbbing painfully and rapidly, encased in its suede prison. "You enjoy this..." he rasped. "You enjoy reducing me to my most base emotions..." "That I do..." Glorfindel purred as he nipped the point of Erestor's ear, causing his lover to whimper with need. "For it is when you are debauched that I feel most enslaved... and that is what you want, is it not?" Erestor shoved his backside into Glorfindel's groin, the feel of his lover's arousal pressing into him nearly causing him to spend on the spot. He groaned as Glorfindel tore his tunic open, buttons popped and clattered to the floor as Glorfindel clutched at his chest. "I... I do not know what I want anymore..." he whispered hoarsely. He nearly wept as Glorfindel's hand slid inside his leggings, taking his arousal and squeezing until he thought he would faint. "Oh, I think you do..." Glorfindel purred. "And you are dying to give it to me..." Erestor moaned as his lover jerked his leggings down, and he struggled to free himself of both the cumbersome suede and his boots. As he kicked them free, he turned, his breath catching as he watched his lover disrobe. Glorfindel took his clothes off slowly, each clasp, each tie taking an eternity. Soon, the Elda stood before him, his skin flushed with passion, his arousal standing proud against his thigh. He watched as Glorfindel crooked his finger, and without hesitation, he stepped forward and into his love's arms. Glorfindel held Erestor's wrists behind his back, his other hand in his raven hair. "Do what you want," Erestor murmured. "All I have is yours to take anyway..." "And what do you want of me in return?" Glorfindel whispered against his lips. "Everything." Glorfindel consumed his mouth with unbridled passion, stealing his breath as he had already stolen his heart. Erestor yielded and withheld nothing, even as his beloved took him roughly. As he lay beneath him, feeling his lion's weight upon him, feeling his warm breath caressing his cheek, he smiled. It was just as Glorfindel had said, he was debauched and his lover was enslaved. If he could not have love yet, this would do. No doubt he would be a little sore, but Glorfindel had not caused him harm; his lion would never do that. He was covered in love bites and small bruises where the warrior's strong fingers had clutched at his flesh. All but one he was confident he could hide from prying eyes. 'This is where we belong,' he mused. 'Entangled with one another.' He wondered how long it would take Glorfindel to come around. How many years would he have to wait before hearing his lover say the words he longed to hear? 'It has been years uncounted already that I have loved him,' he thought. 'What is a few more?' He closed his eyes, a smile still playing upon his lips as Anor began to sink below the mountains. It would soon be time for them to rise and bathe before spending the night making polite conversation with the Lord and Lady of the Wood. Erestor thought he should stop and pick some flowers for Galadriel, as a show of thanks for her wise choice in their lodgings. * * * * The twins and their sister sat upon Elladan's bed. Elrohir braided his brother's hair as Arwen braided his own. It was something they had often done growing up together, the simple act creating an air of comfort and silent understanding between them. Arwen knew of their love for each other, though they did not know she was aware of it. She simply smiled and played the innocent sister for them; none were the wiser and all were the happier for it. "I have missed the two of you," Arwen said quietly. "We do not spend enough time together anymore," Elrohir answered. "The yngyl must have been very frightening," she said quietly. "Aye. Never have I seen such a hideous thing," Elladan answered, a shiver of disgust making his shoulders tremble. "I am glad Erestor and Glorfindel recovered so quickly. It would be a terrible blow to all of us to lose them, especially to father," she continued. Several more minutes passed and she placed a jeweled clip in Elrohir's hair, securing the final braid in place. She leaned forward, her hands upon her elder brother's shoulders as she placed a kiss upon his cheek. "I must dress for the evening, you know how formal the gatherings here are..." Elrohir smiled at his sister and she squeezed his hand, she then leaned forward and kissed Elladan upon the forehead. "I will see the two of you later," she said softly, before smiling over her shoulder and disappearing through the door. Elladan moved to rise from the bed to change into the formal robes his grandparents always kept for them, when Elrohir caught his hand. He turned and smiled at his twin. "Kiss me," Elrohir said softly. Elladan leaned forward and kissed his twin's lips gently, Elrohir's soft sigh raising gooseflesh upon his neck. They parted and his twin whispered, "Again..." against his lips. He smiled and complied; he never refused Elrohir. He sank back down to the bed, his hands carefully sliding to the back of Elrohir's neck, taking care not to disturb Arwen's work. They had already bathed; Elrohir smelled like heather and lilac and his hair gleamed in the waning sunlight that filtered through the treetops. Elrohir's hands were resting on his shoulders and they slid lower, pulling him closer. He savored the taste of his beloved, recalling the many days he had been too afraid to do so. "I love you, Elrohir," he whispered against the curve of his twin's ear. He felt his brother smile against his neck and heard him answer, "I love you, Elladan..." "I want to make love to you," Elladan continued, "but we have not the time for me to do it properly." "We will later..." Elrohir answered. "Later is not soon enough..." Elladan returned. He untied the linen nightshirt that Elrohir had donned after their bath, his fingers seeking his twin's warm flesh. "Just a taste," he whispered. "We have time for just a taste..." Elrohir sighed and leaned back against his hands as Elladan's lips made a thorough perusal of his exposed chest and abdomen. A musical sigh left his lips as his twin pressed his face to his groin, taking his stirring length into his mouth. He sank to his elbows, spreading his legs and draping them over Elladan's shoulders, being careful not to muss his twin's hair. He arched and moaned as Elladan pleasured him, his twin's mouth thoroughly consuming every inch of his flesh. He bit his lip as his climax came, stifling the cry that had built in his throat. His body bowed against his beloved, Elladan's hands gripping his hips as he spilled down his twin's throat. Panting and smiling, he opened his eyes, looking down at the top of his twin's head. Elladan lapped at him like a cat drinking milk, long smooth strokes of his tongue removing any trace of his seed. Each stroke sent tremors racing through him, and he swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat. He remembered the first time they had joined thusly, hidden in the hayloft at midnight. He had been so afraid, but utterly unable to do anything else. Their love had confused him, evolving from deep sibling love and understanding to something more. He wondered what would have become of him if Elladan had not been so bold. He was glad that his most beloved elder twin, the one he trusted above all others, was the one to initiate him into this magical dimension. His legs slipped from Elladan's shoulders and he tilted his head back, exposing his neck to his love's full lips. "Thank you, my love," he whispered. "Mmm... my pleasure," was Elladan's answer. "But what of you?" "I think I will savor the ache in my loins, we will have time enough after the gathering..." "Such self-control..." Elrohir mused with a smile. "You say that now." Elladan winked. Elladan pulled his twin to his feet and they embraced. He laced Elrohir's shirt closed and turned him toward the door, giving his backside a playful swat. "Now, off with you. We both need to dress or we will be late." Elrohir winked over his shoulder and departed his brother's room, quietly making his way to his own. To be continued... Title: The Dawning, 24/? Author: Larien Elengasse Type: FPS Characters: Glorfindel/Erestor, Legolas/Elladan/Elrohir, Thranduil Rating: NC-17 Beta: Alex 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 thinks about his lover; Aragorn returns from the wild with news; the twins take comfort; Glorfindel is paid a visit. Glorfindel sat back in one of the chairs next to the hearth. The fire warmed his cozy office, casting a flickering orange glow in the dim winter morning. It had been a year since he and Erestor had forgone all other lovers, and this was the longest time he had been with only one mate. As he sipped his tea, he thought about all the things that had transpired in the past year. They had their share of arguments, plenty in fact; it seemed arguing was something they did exceedingly well. Of course, lovemaking was something they had done exceedingly well also. A smile curved his lips as he remembered the most undignified squeak Erestor had uttered in the bath that morning, and then he purred to himself as he remembered the most sensual moans that had followed it. He conjured the image of his lover in his mind, clutching the washbasin, his face still damp from cleansing; his head hung low and raven hair shrouding his face as surrendered himself to his lover's wet embrace. Glorfindel could still taste him upon his palate, still smell him, the dusky scent of his sex that lingered in the ebony down that was nestled at the base of his perfect length. "I must really do that more often," he whispered to himself with a smile. A knock upon his door broke his reverie and he rose from his chair, calling for his guest to enter. Elrohir came through the door with Aragorn in tow, and Glorfindel motioned to them to step forward. "Well met, my friend," Glorfindel said as he embraced Aragorn. "Well met indeed, Lord Glorfindel," Aragorn answered. "It is good to have you home again. What news from the north?" "Aside from the occasional orch raids, all is quiet," Aragorn answered, taking a seat as was bidden. Glorfindel shook his head as he rounded his desk. "We kill twenty, and thirty more replace them." Elrohir sat down as well. "There is news from the east," he said softly. "I trust our good friends in Mirkwood are holding their own?" Glorfindel answered. Elrohir shook his head. "Aye, they do, but it is hard going. All the lands to the east are falling under dark skies. There is talk that the Dark Lord is rebuilding his fortress. The Rangers of Ithilien have seen Haradrim traveling in their realm." "Gondor is in chaos," Aragorn added. "With the loss of the king, Gondor's defenses are weakened." Glorfindel nodded. Elrohir continued, "The Ruling Steward tries to hold Mordor at bay, but everyday, the Dark Lord's armies grow stronger." "We are not ready to confront him in open warfare," Glorfindel answered. "But would it not be best to strike before he is fully prepared and garrisoned?" Aragorn asked. "We do not have the numbers," Glorfindel answered. "What of the men of Rohan? And the Grey Company, and our own..." Glorfindel put up his hand, silencing Elrohir. "I know you fear for the people of Gondor. But all the armies of Rohan and Gondor put together could not defeat the Dark Lord in open warfare, not as long as he holds sway over the Nine. As for our own forces, they are too few in number, we would have to empty the valley. King Thranduil can spare no warriors, nor can Lord Celeborn. We are not as mighty a force as we once were, too many have sailed." He leaned forward, folding his hands upon his desk. "Next spring, the White Council meets. We will discuss then how best to proceed. For now, we must be silent and watch, and wait." Aragorn sighed and looked at his lap. "I fear Gondor will fall..." "It might," Glorfindel answered. "And if that is to be, neither you nor I can stop it." Elrohir tapped Aragorn's arm and motioned toward the door. They rose and Aragorn bowed his head. "My thanks, Lord Glorfindel, for your time and wise council." "I am sorry that it was not what you desired to hear, my friend." Elrohir smiled at him as he closed the door, and Glorfindel placed his head in his hands, his fingers clutching at his braids. * * * * Elladan looked up from his book as Elrohir entered his room. He placed the book face down upon the bedside table and held out his arms to his twin. "He refused..." "Aye. I knew he would, but Aragorn insisted. I only hope he does nothing rash. I would not put it past him to ride to the Black Gate and challenge the Dark Lord directly." He sat upon the bed and leaned into his twin's arms. "I am tired." "It was a long ride," Elladan answered. "I am tired as well. I feel sympathy for Aragorn, it is his people, his birthright that hangs in the balance now..." "The news from Mirkwood is not good." "What? Are our friends in danger?" Elrohir shook his head. "No more than usual, I suppose. But the shadow spreads, the Úlairi patrol the skies..." "Our friends will prevail. I only wish we could offer more aid." Elladan stroked Elrohir's hair gently as he spoke. "Come, lie beside me, brother. Take rest in my arms like you did when we were young." Elrohir kicked off his boots and unbuttoned his tunic, tossing it upon a chair as he curled up next to his twin. Elladan stroked his hair and his arms through the soft silk of his undershirt. He longed to do more, but that was impossible in their father's house. He closed his eyes, focusing on the soft rhythm of Elrohir's breathing and found reverie instead. * * * * Aragorn lay upon a chaise, gazing upon the fresco of his ancestors. It was a heavy weight, knowing that he was heir to a kingdom, descended from a line of men who had brought both honor and shame to the world of men. He hoped he did not possess the same arrogance that was Isildur's fall, and that he did possess the same strength and honor that was Elendil's fame. "You worry too much." Arwen's deep, silky voice disrupted his musings. He sat up and smiled at her as she perched upon the edge of the chaise. "It will give you wrinkles." She smiled as she traced a crease in his brow. "You are far too young for such things." "I missed you," he said softly. "And I missed you, Estel," she answered as he took her hand between his. "I wish I could kiss you," he returned. She smiled. "So do I, but you must live to take the throne, and father would most likely prevent that should he find us doing such a thing." He smiled and laughed softly. "Aye, he would. As would your brothers, I fear." "I can handle my brothers," she answered teasingly. "Their bark is worse than their bite, at least where I am concerned." She looked at him then continued, "The day will come when you have fulfilled your destiny, and I will be there by your side to celebrate it." "The gods have blessed me, to have the faith of the Evenstar..." "Your mother said she was blessed as well, to have given birth to such a son. It is good to have you home, Estel." She rose and leaned over, bestowing a kiss upon his forehead before leaving him to his meditations. * * * * Erestor groaned as he realized he had made the exact same mistake in his calculations three times in a row. He had been distracted all morning. Glorfindel's surprise attack in the bath had disrupted his routine, albeit in a most pleasing way, and now he was utterly unable to focus upon his work. 'I wonder how he would take it if I were to walk into his office, pull his leggings around his ankles and torment him as he did me this morning?' he mused. A smile curved his lips. His lover had left without seeking reciprocity... Glorfindel had an amazing amount of self-discipline. Since their experience in Mirkwood, things had changed somewhat between them. Glorfindel was more often the one who took control. While this was not entirely dissatisfying, it left Erestor feeling at a bit of a disadvantage. Even when Glorfindel gave himself, he did so in such a way that Erestor could only yield to his overwhelming desire and presence. Glorfindel was a giving and consummate lover; skilled beyond the measure of any that came before him and insatiable in his desire and appetite. Erestor imagined there were many that would cuff him for even voicing the smallest of complaints, and he knew that there were very many lined up behind him, hoping for a shot at winning the famed Balrog Slayer's talents. "There is no point in continuing here," he said aloud to himself. "I cannot concentrate and I am wasting time." He closed his ledger and stored his writing implements, then borrowed Lindir's winter cloak and made for his lover's office. * * * * Glorfindel sat with his head in his hands, his fingers pulling fretfully upon his braids. A dark storm cloud loomed overhead and the flames jumped and sputtered with the wind. Glorfindel looked up into the dim light to see a hooded, cloaked figure standing in his doorway. He guessed that it was Erestor, but it was unlike Erestor to act so strangely. "Erestor?" he said softly, but the figure did not reply, it only moved toward him with predatory grace. He rose from his chair, only to be pushed back down in it, the figure's features hidden behind the overlarge hood. A slip of rope appeared from inside one of the figure's sleeves and he moved to rise again. The figure leaned over him, pinning his wrists to the arms of the chair as it shook its head. The familiar scent of cinnamon and vanilla drifted into his nostrils and he smiled. It was indeed his lover. He relaxed and watched with fascination as his lover tied his wrists to the arms of his chair, then produced more rope, tying his ankles to the legs. As his lover went about his work, he said not a word; the cloak still shielded his face, though a slip of raven hair protruded from beneath. Glorfindel felt the tie to his leggings pop free and he shivered; the shiver turning to a full-blown shake, as a leather gloved hand reached between his legs. He groaned and leaned his head against the back of the chair, struggling to roll his hips forward into his lover's embrace. He writhed in the gloved hand, lifting his hips as his lover pulled his leggings down to his knees. "Ah, gods!" he groaned as his lover took his rapidly swelling length into his mouth, the dark-cloaked head beginning to bob up and down quickly. He had no time to adjust, no time to savor the slow build of passion. Instead, it roared forth as he arched and cried out, his body tightening excruciatingly as his seed spilled down his lover's throat. The damp heat in his groin spread, the soft wool of the cloak teasing his trembling thighs as his lover's mouth traveled lower, not content with merely bringing one climax. His thighs were shoved apart and a slick tongue invaded his body as he cried out again, writhing and wriggling against the warm mouth. Still the cloak shielded his lover, trapping the heat of their bodies, teasing him relentlessly with its whispering caresses. He was aroused again, and drank from a second time, this climax coming even more forcefully than the first. He bit his lip as a soft knock fell upon the locked door, but his lover did not pause in his work. He stifled the cry of release, swallowing it as he came a second time, then collapsed back into the chair. His chest heaved as he panted, his heart hammered inside his chest. He was trembling from head to toe, barely registering his lover's silent request to raise his hips as his leggings were pulled back up and tied closed. He closed his eyes, his face turned up, lips parted in silent request for a kiss from his lover before he departed. When none came, he opened his eyes. He found his limbs untied and the room empty. "Thank you, my love..." he whispered to the empty room, almost not believing his own words. He reveled in the afterglow of his spent desire for long moments, before rising and cleansing himself in the private bath off his office. To be continued... Title: The Dawning, 25/? Author: Larien Elengasse Type: FPS Characters: Glorfindel/Erestor, Legolas/Elladan/Elrohir, Thranduil Rating: NC-17 Beta: Alex 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 makes a disturbing discovery; Thranduil fights for Legolas' life. Glorfindel entered Erestor's chambers without knocking, as was his want. His lover was relaxing in a chair by the fire, a book open upon his lap. He smiled wolfishly and crossed the room, kneeling between Erestor's legs and taking the book away. "What is the cause of such a lascivious grin?" Erestor asked, amused. "Oh, I think you know, good counselor." "Do I?" Glorfindel unbuttoned Erestor's tunic and pressed his mouth to his lover's stomach. Erestor's purr of delight caused a smile to curve his lips. "You bathed again? Such a fussy one about cleanliness..." "I have not bathed," Erestor whispered. "You smell like Sandalwood," Glorfindel murmured... "I have smelled like Sandalwood all day," Erestor answered. Glorfindel sat back quickly and gazed at his lover. "No," he answered, "You smelled like cinnamon and vanilla..." "No..." Erestor smiled. "I changed bath oil this morning, do you not remember? Perhaps you were too distracted to notice." He winked evilly. "Glorfindel?" Glorfindel swallowed, feeling the color drain from his face. "Erestor, do not play with me..." Erestor cocked his head. "I am not playing with you... Why is what I smell like suddenly of such importance?" Glorfindel shook his head and rose to his feet, quickly turning away from Erestor. "What is it, Glorfindel? You look as though you have seen the dead..." Glorfindel wheeled around. "Did you, or did you not come into my office this morning?" "What? No, I did not come into your office this morning." Erestor rose from his chair. "I went to seek you and found you gone... the door was locked." Glorfindel shook his head and began muttering. "Glorfindel, tell me what is wrong. You are beginning to frighten me." "I... I must go," Glorfindel stammered. He needed to get away, he needed to figure out what had happened, and when he did, he would kill the elf that did this to him. "No!" Erestor grasped his sleeve. "I want you to tell me this instant what has you so upset!" "I cannot, not now..." "Yes, you can, and you will, and yelling at me will not deter me," Erestor answered with determination. Glorfindel sat heavily in his usual chair, his head in his hands as he began tugging fitfully at his braids. "Midmorning, someone that I thought was you came into my office wearing a large woolen, hooded cloak. He blew out the lantern, locked the door and approached without a word. I could not see the elf's face, he was your height, your build... he even had dark hair; I saw it from beneath his cloak. I called your name, but he did not answer. Then, when he approached, I smelled vanilla and cinnamon, just like your bath oils." He looked into Erestor's face and read the apprehension upon it. "I thought..." his voice began to fail him. "I thought it was you..." he said so softly Erestor almost couldn't hear him. Erestor knelt before him, placing his trembling hands upon Glorfindel's thighs. "Go on, tell me the rest." A tear fell from Glorfindel's eye as he continued. "He tied my wrists and ankles to the chair... it was something I could imagine you doing, so I did not suspect. He... he... pleasured me, then left, without a word." He looked into Erestor's pale and shocked face. "I swear, I thought it was you! It smelled like you, felt like you..." Erestor looked at the floor, his body trembling in anger. "I will kill the one who did this, but not before skinning them alive and stringing them up for the crows!" he growled. "I am sorry, Erestor... please say you believe me," Glorfindel answered softly. Erestor struggled to calm himself. He was overwhelmed by feelings of anger and betrayal. He knew Glorfindel had done this unwittingly, but how could he not have known? How could his beloved mistake someone else for him? He took a deep breath and answered, "I believe you." He collected himself and laid his head upon Glorfindel's chest, wrapping his arms around his waist. Something he had not felt in many months returned... something he had thought gone for good. Doubt. It cast pallor upon their fledging love. Glorfindel closed his eyes and swallowed. Not only did he feel violated, but he felt sick at heart. Erestor was wounded; he could see that. Erestor could not understand how he could have mistaken another for him; indeed, he could not understand it himself. 'He doubts me now,' he thought to himself. 'It is the beginning of the end for us...' Neither spoke. Erestor sat with his head in his lover's lap, and Glorfindel stroked his raven hair as the fire crackled in the hearth. * * * * Legolas slid unsteadily off his mare's back, gripping her long mane in his bloody fist, his left arm clenched tight to his chest. The courtyard was chaotic, healers and warriors rushing between the horses and the caves, the sounds of wounded elves echoing in the cavernous chamber. The periphery of his field of vision began to turn white, and he fought to remain conscious. He had nearly fainted three times between the Enchanted River and his father's caves. "Greenleaf..." He felt the strong, comforting arms of his father support him as he slumped back against Thranduil's chest. He whispered, "I am all right..." as Thranduil lifted him in his arms, carrying him toward the healer's chambers. "It is the water," he croaked, fighting to stay among the living and resist the pull of never-ending slumber. "I was thrown down upon the bank..." He heard his father bellow for the healer. He had never heard fear in his father's voice before. "Stay with me, Greenleaf. Listen to my voice, do not fall asleep..." His father began a chant in a language he did not recall hearing ever before. Soon, the slumber was too strong and he acquiesced, barely registering his father's anguished cry as he slipped into numb darkness. * * * * Thranduil sat upon the floor in the healer's chambers, holding his son's limp body in his arms, rocking back and forth as he chanted ceaselessly. The master healer looked on through his tears, his heart breaking as he watched his lord fight for his son's life. 'It is too much,' he thought. 'Not even my lord's magic is strong enough to fight this evil...' He had seen the black water take victims before; they fell into the land of dreams, never to wake again. His staff worked upon the wounded, trying to avoid the king in his grief. The first elf to touch either Thranduil or Legolas would fall at the king's hand, he was certain of it. He had to let Thranduil try until he found it was hopeless on his own. He had sat that way for hours already, no one knew how long he would continue before he either accepted the truth or succumbed to his own exhaustion. Bustling near the door and hushed murmurs greeted his ears, and he turned to look at the entrance to his ward. An old man cloaked in gray filled the doorway. He leaned upon a gnarled oaken staff and wore a tall pointed hat. The man strode forward, tossing his hat upon a chair and boldly kneeling beside the king. He placed one hand upon Thranduil's head, the other upon Legolas, and began whispering a chant like the one the king uttered. The room stood still, silence fell like a blanket of night as they waited to see what would happen. Suddenly, the prince gasped, arching his back as his chest expanded, then he exhaled, relaxing into his father's arms. The color of life returned to Legolas' features, and his lips curved into a smile. Thranduil's eyes opened and he looked at the old man. "Mithrandir..." he said softly. "You have saved my son..." The old man smiled. "Come, let us get you off this floor and your son into a bed." The king and the old man departed, Thranduil carrying Legolas in his arms. The healer followed, to tend to the prince's wounds. * * * * Legolas struggled to sit up as his father propped pillows behind his back. "It was the Úlairi," he said wearily. "They drove us into an ambush of waiting yrch. They rode hideous winged beasts, the likes of which I have never seen before. They would swoop down upon us and snatch elves into the air, horses and all, before dashing them upon the ground from a great height." He took a deep breath and continued, "I lost five of my best warriors before we reached the thick trees, then the yrch set upon us. I was locked in battle with one, my knives were lodged in his armor and he fell. We rolled down the bank; I was able to free my knives before he fell into the river. I stopped myself, but not before my hands came to rest in the wet mud." Mithrandir frowned as he stroked his beard. He did not speak often, and when he did, he said little. The Elves of Thranduil had long counted him their friend, ever since he convinced the White Council to attack Dol Guldur. Thranduil himself had fought beside the great wizard, and he had undying respect for the Ainur. "I am glad I came," he said quietly. "It is Sauron's aim to divide the free peoples of Middle-earth. He will continue to attack and divide you, for he fears another alliance of Elves and Men." He smiled gently at Legolas and patted the prince's knee. "It is fortunate that I was wandering your forest when the Úlairi came. I am glad I could be here to help you." "As am I," Thranduil answered. "You saved my son's life, I will forever be in your debt." "I owe you my life, Mithrandir," Legolas said softly. "I will not forget it." Mithrandir smiled, then chuckled. His eyes twinkled for a moment as he gazed at Legolas, then his expression grew more grave. He rose to his feet. "I must be traveling south. The White Council is to meet come spring, and I have some investigating to do..." Thranduil rose as well, standing aside so that the wizard could clasp his son's uninjured hand. As Mithrandir turned, the king embraced him. A smile curved his lips as the wizard chuckled again, patting his back before pulling away. They watched while he left as silently as he came. One never knew when or where the Grey Pilgrim would turn up. Thranduil sat back down at his son's side, taking Legolas' hand between his own and giving it a comforting squeeze. Legolas smiled sleepily at his father and closed his eyes as Thranduil leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his forehead and smoothing his loose hair from his face. "You need rest," the king said softly. "As do you," Legolas answered. "I will sleep soon enough. For now, I wish to look after you." "Father, I will sleep when you sleep, and not a moment before." "Stubborn..." Thranduil muttered with a smile. "I learned it from you," Legolas answered. "You might as well lie down here, because I don't trust you. If you leave, you will pace the halls, not get rest." Thranduil chuckled. "You know me too well." "Aye, I do." Thranduil removed the pillows and helped Legolas slide back down into the bed. He then lay down beside him and smiled as his son rolled into his arms. He remembered all the times Legolas had fallen asleep in his arms as an elfling, and as he drifted into reverie, he counted his blessings, not least among them was his son. To be continued...