*Title: Princes Three: In the Shadows of Mirkwood (Complete)

*Author: Minuial Nuwing

*Contact: minuial_nuwing@...

*Website: http://geocities.com/minuial_nuwing

*Rating: NC-17 overall

*Type: FPS

*Pairing: Elladan/Elrohir; Elladan/Elrohir/Legolas, and various combinations
thereof ; )

*Warning: Explicit TWINCEST- if this squicks you, please don’t read it ;)

*Archive: First Light, AFF.net, LoM, OEAM, Naughty Elves; Others: I would be
honored-Just let me know, please!

*Feedback: Makes me smile, and write faster…

*Summary: Sequel to ‘PT: The Beginning’ -- Imladris’ favorite triad descends
on Mirkwood…and Thranduil.

*Notes: Stars (**) indicate italics. One star (*blah*) for emphasis, two
stars (**blah**) for mindspeak or thoughts.

*Beta:  Allie & Co. 

*Disclaimer: Only the quirks and perversions are mine. Everything else
belongs to the creator-god of Middle-earth, J.R.R. Tolkien. I am awed by his
gifts and humbled by his vision. I promise to clean them all up and return
them with smiles on their faces when I am done playing!

*****************


***Princes Three: In the Shadows of Mirkwood***


~The Eaves of Mirkwood, 2150 III~

Legolas sighed heavily, pushing back his hood, the failing light setting his pale 
gold hair ablaze. The cold rain had finally ended, but not before soaking elves 
and horses, causing them all to chill miserably in the fading warmth of the 
autumn sun. "And ‘twill only be worse under the canopy," he muttered, looking at 
the first ranks of Mirkwood’s giant trees in irritation. 

The party of six- the woodland prince and his guard- had been nearly a moon on 
the trip from Imladris, and there remained two or three days of travel through the 
forest ere they reached Thranduil’s realm. Delayed by unexpected rain and 
mudslides in the Misty Mountains, as well as the occasional thug, they were tired, 
sore, and ill-humored. 

"Aye, it will be, ernilen," the guard’s captain replied, smiling ruefully. "’Twill most 
likely be damp, chill and dark. As always. Why do elves live in the woods, 
anyway?" 

Chuckling, the woodland prince clapped his companion on the shoulder 
affectionately. "I am not at all sure, just now, Tiri. It seems a dank place, indeed, 
after such a rain. But we must bear it, to get back to the Halls." Clucking to his 
horse, Legolas said, "Come on, ‘Faer. Take us home, mellonen." 

Pausing to nuzzle his master’s knee affectionately, the spirited dark-bay stallion 
tossed his head, then set off confidently through the closely-packed trees. 
Picking his way, first right, then left, Ornfaer soon found the path he was seeking. 
Snorting loudly, he waited for the others to regroup, then headed down the 
uneven trail at a fast pace. 

As the small band of elves moved quickly through the dim forest, Tiriadon pulled 
his mount alongside the prince. "I think we should stop at the first open clearing, 
Tiri," Legolas said thoughtfully. "We can not possibly make the second this day, 
and ‘twould be fool hardy to rest among the trees, even with a watchman, this far 
from the Halls. In the clearing we can build a fire, at any rate." 

"Aye, and thus be able to dry out, also," the captain agreed with a grin. " There is 
also a small rain pool for the horses, which is surely full after such a storm as just 
passed. You are wise, for all your youth, ernilen." 

Legolas snickered. "Of course, pen iaur. And the fact that your birth was ten 
years ere mine makes your wisdom much deeper, eh?" 

His moss-green eyes sparkling, Tiriadon replied, "Aye, it does. If you will let me 
pass, híren, I will use my greater experience to secure the clearing." 

Checking Ornfaer slightly to allow Tiriadon’s fiery chesnut mare to move ahead, 
the prince found himself thankful- not for the first time- for the devotion he 
enjoyed from his guards. Assigned to him permanently, they were companions, 
as well as protectors. They had all killed for him many times over, and he had no 
doubt they would willingly die in his service. 

And, more importantly at this moment, he trusted them implicitly with his secrets. 
Though they wore the colors of Mirkwood, their loyalty- in any situation short of 
an armed revolt, at any rate- was to Legolas, rather than Thranduil. As they had 
all been at least distant witnesses to his changing relationship with the Peredhil 
twins, the promise of their discretion was reassuring, indeed. 

Turning suddenly through a nearly hidden opening, Tiriadon entered the clearing, 
followed closely by a second guard. They quickly scanned the open area for any 
obvious threat. Finding none, the captain slid thankfully from his mount. "We 
must get a fire going as soon as may be," he instructed, quickly assigning the 
soldiers their tasks. "There is little time to spare before sunset, and we need the 
warmth to dry us." 

Helping his captain relieve the horses of their burdens, then feed and water the 
exhausted animals, Legolas viewed the trees thoughtfully. His forest-honed 
senses troubled, he turned to his companion. "I do not like this, mellonen. 
Though I see no ungol-sign, it is strangely quiet. There is no birdsong, no 
movement of small creatures." Frowning, the prince repeated slowly, "I do not 
like it." 

Looking intently at his lord, Tiriadon nodded. "Aye, ‘tis very still. We will keep the 
fire going, and set a watch." 

Moving back to the warmth of the blazing fire, the two elves gratefully stripped off 
wet clothing, slipping on dry garments from their packs. Digging through the food 
stores, which had become distressingly short due to the delays, Legolas handed 
a strip of dried meat and broken lembas to Tiriadon, taking the same for himself. 
"’Twill be good to get home, for fresh food, if nothing else," the prince said with a 
smile. 

The captain laughed. "Aye, ‘twill be nice to have fresh food." Grinning broadly, he 
finished. "Among other things." Wincing at the flash of pain in his friend’s eyes, 
Tiriadon said, "I am sorry, Legolas. I did not think. Forgive me, mellonen." 

"’Tis naught to forgive," the prince returned, his smile sad as he glanced at the 
mithril cuff that spiraled around his forearm. "I did not beg your pardon in 
Imladris, though you were without your lover." After a moment, Legolas looked 
curiously at his friend. "How do you do it, Tiri? How do you manage, being away 
from her?" 

His lips curling slightly, the captain answered, "With my hand, híren, much like 
everyone else." 

Good humor restored, the woodland prince chuckled. "That is not what I meant, 
mellonen. I am well acquainted with that particular skill. I was speaking of the 
loneliness. How do you manage to keep up your spirits?" 

Tiriadon was silent for a moment. "’Tis not really so bad, ernilen. You have 
always done your extended traveling with Lord Elrond’s sons, so I am rarely gone 
for more than a week or two at a time. Usually it is a matter of days apart, not 
weeks or months." Grinning, he continued, "Unless you drag me off on a fool 
errand such as this one." 

Legolas smiled, but his intended jest died on his lips as one of the horses 
screamed in terror. Leaping up, he notched an arrow, running to where the 
trembling animals stood. Unable to see any threat, even with his keen eyes, the 
prince stood very still. Over the scent of the horse’s fear, he became aware of 
another odor. Wild, rank, and unmistakable. "Not yngyl, Tiri," he called softly. 
"Warg." 

"In the forest?" the captain replied, quickly pulling the frightened horses into the 
center of the clearing, as near the fire as they would bear. "’Tis something new." 
"Aye," Legolas said grimly, scanning the surrounding trees for the gleam of 
yellow eyes. "Something has drawn them from the mountains, I wager." Listening 
intently, he ordered, "Be ready, mellynen. They are coming." 

Backs to the fire, and to the nervous horses, the elves waited, weapons at the 
ready. 

Suddenly, with a snarl and a flash like yellow flame, the first warg attacked, 
falling to the ground in mid-leap, Legolas’ arrow piercing its throat. Even as the 
first creature fell, others charged the ring of elves, snapping and slashing with 
teeth and claws. Though the outcome was never truly in doubt, Legolas sighed 
with relief when the last beast fell to Tiriadon’s knife. "’Tis a bit much, fending off 
a pack of wargs after a day in the mud and rain," the prince observed wryly, as 
they piled the carcasses to burn. 

"Aye, it is," the captain agreed, heaving the last warg onto the stacked remains. 
"Come, ernilen. Let us wash, and then take some rest. We will set two guards for 
what remains of the night." 

Nodding, Legolas headed for the rain pool to clean himself of the dark warg 
blood. "’Twould be best to leave by dawn," he added, kneeling by the water. 
"Mayhap we can make the Halls by ithil’s rise tomorrow, if we have no further 
delays." 

"Mayhap," the captain replied cautiously, his red-gold braids swinging, as they 
scrubbed their bloodied hands and faces vigorously. "’Twill be quite a day’s ride, 
though." 

"But not impossible, Tiri," the woodland prince countered, leading the way to the 
fire. Spreading his blanket, he dropped to the ground. "’Twill be better to ride 
hard tomorrow than spend another night such as this one." 

"’Tis a fact, indeed," the captain said with a grin. "Get some rest, híren." 

Legolas rolled himself in the blanket, and lay watching the dancing flames. 
Reverie did not come easily, and when the blue-green eyes finally lost their 
focus, his waking dreams were filled, as always, with silver-grey eyes and black 
silk. 

********************************************** 

~Imladris, 2150 III ~

"Elladan!" Glorfindel yelled in frustration. "Wait! Your arm needs seeing to, pen 
neth." 

"’Tis alright," the elder twin called back, never slowing his pace. "Ada will look at 
it." Grabbing his brother’s arm, he urged ,"Come on, ‘Roh. Let us find him." 

"Aye," Elrohir agreed, his haste as great as his twin’s. "Mayhap there has been 
word while we were gone." The two hurried down the corridors of the manor, 
oblivious to the effect their state of disrepair had on those they passed. 

Elrond half rose from his chair when his sons burst into the library. Taking in their 
bedraggled appearance, as well as Elladan’s blood-stained sleeve, the peredhel 
lord immediately took charge. "Sit down, ionen," he insisted, pushing the elder 
twin into a chair. "Elrohir, fetch my healer’s box, and some water, please." 

Quickly ripping open the torn, bloodied sleeve and the makeshift binding, the 
ancient elf was relieved to see a relatively clean laceration, though it ran half-way 
from wrist to elbow. "It appears there was no poison on the blade," he said 
thankfully, carefully cleansing the wound. "’Tis deep though. It must be stitched, I 
fear." 

"It is naught to worry over, Ada," Elladan insisted, wincing as the water flowed 
over his arm, stinging where it touched the torn flesh. "’Twas only a gang of 
brigands, and they will bother Imladris no longer. Have you any word from 
Thranduil?" 

"Nay, pen neth, not yet," Elrond answered soberly, as he gently dabbed the 
wound with pain-dulling salve. Looking at his eldest son questioningly, the healer 
received a slight nod. "Hold his arm, Elrohir," he said, quickly preparing his 
needle. Elladan turned his head, burying his face in his twin’s neck. The sting of 
the needle was followed by the burn of silk thread sliding through injured flesh, 
and both father and son breathed a sigh of relief when a clean bandage was 
secured in place. 

"But ‘tis just at a moon since they left. We should probably have news at any 
time," Elrond offered, as though there had been no break in their conversation. 
Pressing a kiss to the elder twin’s forehead, then to Elrohir’s, he laid a 
sympathetic hand on each dark head. "He is well, yn nín . You must have faith." 

"But ‘tis not a full moon’s trip to Taur-na-Fuin, Ada," Elladan argued, carefully 
flexing his injured muscles. "They should have arrived several days ago, if all is 
well." 

"Aye, they should have," the elf-knight agreed. "Unless some difficulty has 
befallen them in the mountains." 

"’Tis no profit in such talk," Elrond said kindly, but firmly. "We shall hear soon, I 
wager, and until then, we will expect all to be well. To do otherwise is to doubt 
Prince Legolas." 

Taking in the dirty and exhausted condition of his sons, the Imladrian Lord 
sighed. "To the bathing chamber, with both of you now, I think. Do not get that 
dressing wet, Elladan. Elrohir, you will need to help him bathe." 

As identical ebony eyebrows arched skyward over barely suppressed grins, the 
younger twin replied, "I fully intend too, Ada. The return from a near three-week 
patrol requires a long soaking bath, and much scrubbing. ‘Tis definitely better 
with two." 

Elrond, having once had a twin of his own, was unable to squelch the images 
called forth by the teasing comment. Sighing, he shook his head ruefully at his 
younger son. "There are times, Elrohir, when it is well to limit yourself to a simple 
‘Yes, Ada’. I do not require details." Handing the elf-knight a clean bandage roll, 
he said calmly, "If the dressing gets wet, ionen, it must be changed. I will expect 
you both for a late dinner." 

************************************************************ 

Leaning back comfortably against his brother, water lapping around his chest, 
Elrohir sighed contentedly. Elladan chuckled, his good hand drawing idle circles 
on his lover’s stomach. "I agree, rohir nín. ‘Tis good to be home. And good to be 
clean." 

"Aye, it is," the elf-knight agreed, stilling the circling fingers with his own. "How 
fares your arm? Is the bandage wet?" 

"Damp," the elder twin admitted. "’Twill need changing, when we leave the tub. 
But the pain is much improved." 

"That is well," Elrohir said, turning to sit astride his brother’s thighs. "Because I 
am not yet ready to leave the water." Pressing a lingering kiss to willing lips, he 
murmured, "How long has it been, el nín, since you last had me like this, hmm?" 

"Too long," Elladan breathed, gathering the other in a tight embrace. Hissing as 
their bodies slid together sensually in the warm water, the elder twin twisted 
ebony-dark locks around his hand, gently forcing the elf-knight’s head back, 
nuzzling and nipping the pale throat. 

Unable to stifle a groan, Elrohir reached down and seized both slick shafts, 
stroking languidly with an open hand. "I want you now, tôr nín," he whispered, 
tickling a sensitive ear. "Have me, and make it last, hmm?" 

Heedless of his injured arm, Elladan slid both hands down to caress the firm 
cheeks, running teasing fingers over the puckered opening, before carefully 
slipping in one finger. His breath hitching, Elrohir pushed down on the searching 
hand. "Please, ‘Dan," he gasped, "’Twill not hurt." 

Swallowing hard, the elder twin quickly pushed in another finger, then another, 
stretching the tight muscle, before pulling his hand away. Capturing Elladan’s 
mouth in a fierce kiss, the elf-knight pressed tightly against the other’s chest, 
then pushed down, slowly impaling himself on his brother’s throbbing length with 
a harsh moan. 

Breaking the kiss, Elrohir raised a hand to touch his twin’s face, their midnight-
dark eyes locked in an intense gaze. They remained motionless as the familiar 
silvery sheen began to envelop their bodies, and each half of their faer reached 
eagerly for its mate. Thoughts merged, and the warm feeling of wholeness began 
to flow, but still they remained unmoving, until finally the fusing was complete, 
and the sensation of both filling and being filled became too much to bear. 
With a sobbing gasp Elrohir began to rock his hips, his straining erection rubbing 
against Elladan’s hard stomach. Moving as one, hands roamed, mouths nuzzled 
and nipped, as growls and moans fell in perfectly blended chorus, ending in a 
keening wail, as silvery seed spilled from both in the same instant, a single name 
echoing in the fused soul. 

**Legolas**

Snuggled tightly together, clinging to the warmth as their faer reluctantly halved 
once more, the thoughts of the Imladrian princes remained haunted by blue-
green eyes, and golden braids. 

****************

Names:
Tiriadon - guardian or watcher ('Las' captain of the guard)
Ornfaer - tree spirit ('Las' horse)
Elvish translations: 
ernilen- my prince
mellonen- my friend
pen iaur- ancient one
híren- my lord
ungol - spider
yngyl - spiders
mellynen- my friends
Taur-na-Fuin - Mirkwood (wood of nightshade)
ionen- my son
yn nín - my sons
pen neth- young one
el nín - my star
rohir nín - my knight
tôr nín - my brother (by blood)
faer - spirit, soul


Chapter 2

~Mirkwood 2150 III~

Legolas opened his eyes slowly, reluctant to wake from the first deep sleep he 
had enjoyed in nearly a moon’s time. He and his guards had reached the Halls 
late the previous night. Exhausted, hungry and dirty, the woodland prince had 
scarcely greeted his family before being ordered to eat, bathe and sleep by a 
concerned Thranduil.

Stretching lazily, he sighed, remembering the last time he had slept in a bed. In 
Imladris. Raising his right arm, Legolas traced the curve of mithril that adorned 
his forearm, the etched gold and blue insets glowing in the sunlight that filtered 
into the concealed dwelling. Since leaving the hidden valley, he had rarely 
removed the cuff, save to bathe, and not always then. **‘Tis a part of Imladris I 
can keep with me always,’**  he mused, fingers idly worrying the thin, flexible 
metal.

A soft knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. "Aye? Who is there?" the 
prince called, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.
"’Tis Ada, Legolas. Are you waking?" a deep, musical voice answered. "I have 
breakfast with me."

Padding to the door uncovered, Legolas threw the bolt, then hurried back to the 
bed. He sat and pulled the sheet to his waist, then called "Come in, híren." As 
Thranduil entered the room, bearing a tray of fruits and breads, as well as a pot 
of tea, the prince’s smile widened. "Hannon chen, Ada. There was no need to 
bring breakfast to my chambers, though. I am quite fit enough for the hall."

The woodland king grinned, his emerald green eyes sparkling. "Nay, Legolas. 
Allow a father to spoil his son, eh? I am glad to have you home, ionen, and I wish 
to hear of Imladris. Dress yourself, pen neth, before the tea cools."

Slipping into leggings and a light tunic, Legolas quickly braided his hair into a 
single golden plait, tying the end off carelessly with a strip of lacing. Turning to 
find Thranduil regarding him quizzically, the woodland prince arched one golden 
eyebrow at his father in silent question.

"You look for all of Arda like a golden-haired Peredhel," the king chuckled, 
gathering his own waist-length golden hair in demonstration. "Eyebrow and all, I 
might add."

"I beg to differ, Ada,’ Legolas retorted, not knowing whether to be amused or 
dismayed. "The braid is a convenience, and I am wearing the colors of Taur-na-
Fuin, am I not? Besides, you arch your eyebrows, too."

"Aye, but not so expressively. 'Tis a talent of Elrond and his whelps," Thranduil 
said, still smiling. "Come sit down and eat with me, ionen. How did you find 
Imladris? ‘Twas your first extended stay there since you were an elfling."

"’Tis a magical place, Ada," Legolas replied, his eyes shining. "Such a lot of 
waterfalls, and the trees…there are many types which do not grow here, and 
gardens, and…" with a sigh he ended, "I did not like to leave, much as I missed 
Taur-na-Fuin."

Looking thoughtfully at the cuff that spiraled around his son’s arm, the king 
smiled slightly. "Aye, it is a wondrous place, pen neth. And Elrond a gracious 
host. May I see your new bauble?"

Hesitating only briefly, the prince slipped off the mithril cuff and handed it to his 
father. Studying the finely engraved oak leaves, and the flawlessly set lapis 
lazuli, Thranduil nodded appreciatively. Though his own preference was for gold 
and emeralds, the woodland king could acknowledge artistry, whatever the form. 
"’Tis the work of a master, indeed. Quite a gift, ionen," he said, handing the cuff 
back to Legolas. "I recognize the symbolism, of course. ‘Tis a blending of the 
colors of Imladris and the token of Taur-na-Fuin, is it not?"

"It is," the prince answered shortly, busying himself with breakfast. Stopping 
suddenly, he asked, "Ada, have you spoken with Lord Elrond since our arrival? 
To let him know we arrived safely?"

"Aye, I reached him for a moment this morning, pen neth. He was most relieved 
to hear of your safe return, and sent word that you are sorely missed," Thranduil 
replied, sipping his tea. "Tell me, how were Elladan and Elrohir? What did the 
three of you get up to, with no yrch to kill?"

"They are well, Ada," Legolas said with a smile. "We will be having a visit from 
them as soon as may be. I promised to show them around Taur-na-Fuin, as they 
have shown me Imladris. And we found much to do in the valley." 

Looking at Legolas thoughtfully, the king asked no more questions, listening 
instead to the stories his son chose to tell. 

When they had finished eating, and Thranduil prepared to go, Legolas laid a 
hand on his arm. "Ada, can you teach me to farspeak?" he asked hesitantly. "Is it 
an art I can learn, or a birth-gift?"

"’Tis an art, ionen, but one that does require some innate talent. I am not so 
accomplished as Elrond, but I manage, so it is reasonable to assume that you 
could learn, also, in time." His intense green gaze focused on his son, the king 
continued gently, "Is there something you would like to tell me, Legolas?" 
Drawing a deep breath, the woodland prince shook his head silently. Seeing the 
conflict in the blue-green eyes, Thranduil tried again. "Is there something you 
*should*  tell me, ionen?"

"Mayhap," Legolas sighed. "Probably. But let it be for the moment, Ada. Please?"

"Aye, for the moment, pen neth," the king answered, squeezing the prince’s 
shoulder affectionately. "Your siblings are most anxious to see you. We will await 
you in the courtyard."

***********************************

Descending the curving steps to the courtyard, Legolas looked around the 
woodland Hall, relieved to be home after the long journey. Contrary to popular 
rumor, the elves of Thranduil’s realm did not live underground. Their stores were 
kept in well-lit caves, and they had secure caverns to flee to if need be, but their 
lives were lived among the trees and plants of the great wood. 

Guarded by the gated entrance that dove deep into the earth, as well as the skill 
of elven bow and knife, the inhabitants of Taur-na-Fuin had built a concealed, yet 
comfortable refuge in the heart of the forest. Dwellings were to be found at all 
levels in the woodland settlement, from ground to canopy. The center of the Halls 
was a large courtyard, open to the sun and dotted with fountains. It was near one 
of these fountains that Legolas’ siblings waited with Thranduil.

As the prince reached the courtyard level, he was nearly knocked over by an 
exuberant armful of young elleth. "Golas!" she shouted, ignoring all efforts to 
shush her. "You are home!"

Chuckling, Legolas picked up his youngest sibling, twirling her gently. "Aye, 
Galueth, I am, indeed," he said with a smile, brushing back his sister’s mahogany 
hair. "And how are you, pen neth? Have you behaved yourself whilst I was 
away?"

"Aye, Golas, I have. Ada only locked his study door one time," she answered 
soberly, her sky blue eyes twinkling. Hugging her tightly, Legolas pressed a kiss 
to the flowing tresses. Galueth was the image of their mother, who had died in an 
yrch attack shortly after birthing her. Left with only one parent, she had been 
raised- and spoiled, some said- by her doting father and brothers. 

"Let him breathe, thêl dithen," an amused voice teased. Smiling in answer, 
Legolas lowered the youngling to the ground and caught his younger brother in a 
fierce hug. "And how fare you, Barangolas?"

Grinning, the copper-haired elf returned his brother’s embrace, emerald eyes 
twinkling. "I am well, tôren. And you seem very well indeed, for an ellon just 
returned from a hard journey. We have missed you." Lowering his voice, he 
continued, "And I expect to hear all about your trip later." At Legolas’ questioning 
look, he tapped the mithril cuff. "All about it. I feel there is surely a story here."
"Welcome home, tôr dithen," a voice interrupted, and Legolas turned to clasp his 
elder brother’s arm in greeting. 

"Anteruon," the prince said, laying a hand on the other’s shoulder. "You are 
looking well."

"I am well," the Crown Prince replied, gripping his brother’s arm in return, his 
grey-green eyes warm. "Did you find the Peredhil celebration to your liking?"
Sighing, Legolas reminded himself silently that his brother rarely meant to be as 
arrogant as he sounded. The eldest of Thranduil’s children was much like 
Oropher, with his dark, almost metallic gold hair, and his often inflammatory 
manner of speaking.

"Aye, I had quite an enjoyable time, muindor," the second-born prince answered 
easily, ignoring the faint ring of insult in the tone of ‘Peredhil'. "How was the 
celebration here in Taur-na-Fuin?"

"It went very well…" Anteruon began, but his attention was diverted when a 
chance sunbeam glinted on Legolas’ mithril cuff. Lifting his brother’s arm to 
inspect the piece closely, the Crown Prince raised both eyebrows in teasing 
interrogation. "’Tis quite a hunk of mithril, Legolas. And just what did you do to 
earn such a tribute, tôr dithen? Did you have to bed all the artisans of Imladris, or 
only her fascinating faer-sharing princes?"

His patience with the eldest prince at a deadly low, Legolas grabbed his brother’s 
tunic, his blue-green eyes glittering dangerously. "If I thought you understood just 
how insulting that sounded, *muindor*, I would kill you," he spat out, his face 
close to Anteruon’s astonished countenance. "As it is, I will say that your lack of 
couth has reached new depths. You speak loosely of people and things that are 
dear to me. Do not make such a mistake again."

"Legolas," Thranduil said quietly, "Release him. Now." 

Turning to Anteruon, he frowned. "And one day, ionen, your mouth will be your 
ruin, if you do not learn to weigh your words. If he were aught but your kinsman, 
you would likely be maimed now. You owe Legolas an apology."

"I am sorry, muindor," the Crown Prince said stiffly. "I meant no harm."

Looking at his brother soberly, Legolas finally nodded, though his face remained 
grim. "Aye, I know. That is why you are bearable. Most of the time." 

****************************************

Barangolas settled into his chair, handing Legolas a glass of deep red Dorwinion 
wine. Grinning broadly at his elder brother, he said, "So? Tell me all about your 
trip."

"’Twas a celebration, muindor, just like the one here," the golden-haired prince 
replied. "I had quite a good time."

Shaking his head in exasperation, the youngest of Mirkwood’s princes retorted, 
"Very well, I shall be more direct. Tell me about that," he insisted, pointing at 
Legolas’ arm. Holding out his hand, Barangolas waited impatiently while his 
brother removed the mithril cuff, handing it over with a sigh. "’Tis beautiful, tôren, 
" he said appreciatively, running a finger over the smooth inlays.

"Aye, it is, indeed," Legolas agreed proudly, much to his brother’s delight. 

"So, where did you get it?" the younger prince asked encouragingly.

"’Twas a gift," the other answered, offering no further information.

Frustrated, Barangolas said, "Even I know that, tôren, and I was not there! A gift 
from what elf? For what reason?" When Legolas remained silent, biting his lip in 
indecision, his brother turned back to the mithril piece. "Hmm, ‘tis oak leaves on 
gold, surrounded by lapis lazuli and mithril. Tokens of Taur-na-Fuin surrounded 
by the colors of Imladris."

Jerking his head up at his brother’s words, so like those Glorfindel had used to 
describe the cuff, Legolas found himself gazing into an exultant face. "’Tis from 
one of the Imladrian princes, is it not? And not a token of friendship, either, I 
would wager. Talk, Legolas. Which one? How did you choose?"

"Barangolas," Legolas began, unable to tell an outright lie, "Please, tôr dithen , let 
it be, hmm? I must consider how to tell…"

Suddenly the younger elf broke in, his eyes wide above a rapidly growing grin. 
"You did not choose, did you, tôren ? ‘Tis from both of them, is it not? Come, 
Legolas. You have never been successful at deceiving me. I am right."

Looking intently at his brother, the prince sighed. "Aye, you are right." At the 
youngest prince’s delighted chortle, Legolas raised a hand. His face stern, he 
continued, "And if you tell anyone, Barangolas, *anyone*, ‘twill be no force on 
Arda that can save you. Do you understand me, tôr dithen?"

"Very clearly, indeed." Laying a hand on his brother’s arm, Barangolas said 
seriously, "It is not just for fun, is it, muindor? ‘Tis about hearts?"

"Aye, ‘tis about hearts," Legolas agreed, smiling softly.

"You love them, then?"the youngest prince probed gently.

"Aye, that I do," the golden-haired prince answered, looking his brother full in the 
eye. 

"I am very happy for you, Legolas. You love them both?" Barangolas asked 
again, a slight smile on his face.

Nodding, Legolas gripped his brother’s arm affectionately. "Aye."

Breaking into a full blown grin, the younger prince said, "Tell me, tôren, do you 
love them at the same time, or separately?"

Legolas nearly caught him before he made the door.

***********************

Names:
Galueth - beloved of the gods (Legolas’ sister)
Barangolas - "ginger leaf" , as in the red-brown color of ginger (Legolas’ younger 
brother)
Anteruon - gift of Eru (Legolas’ elder brother)

Elvish Translations:
Ada, Adar - Dad, Father
híren - my lord
Hannon chen - Thank you
pen neth - young one
ionen - my son
Taur-na-Fuin - Mirkwood (wood of nightshade)
yrch - orcs
orch - orc
thêl dithen - little sister
tôren - my brother
ellon - male elf
tôr dithen - little brother
muindor - brother
tôr einior - elder brother


Chapter 3

~Imladris 2151 III~

Celebrian looked closely at her sons, concern evident in her soft grey eyes. 
"They are so solemn, Elrond," the Lady of Imladris said worriedly, her brow 
creasing. "’Tis not normal. They have not behaved so since they were elflings."

The twins sat cuddled together in a large chair, apparently uninterested in the 
singing and laughter around them. In days past, the princes would have sang the 
loudest, drank the most, and discomfited the entire Hall with their unrestrained 
ribaldry. 

This night they were silent, their wine untouched. Curled around one another as 
though for warmth, dark heads pressed close, they spoke only when courtesy 
required, and then only as much as manners demanded. Their hands 
intertwined, they appeared less the formidable warriors they were than lost 
younglings, stubbornly refusing to be afraid.

Sighing heavily, Elrond replied, "Aye, melethen, I know. ‘Tis worse tonight than 
most, even. They fare better on patrol, or involved in some other task. When 
there is nothing to hold their minds, they brood. ‘Twill only be another few days, 
though, ere they will be free enough of duties to travel for a while."

Her warm grey eyes filled with sympathetic tears, Arwen rose from her position at 
Celebrian’s feet. "I can not bear it, Nana," she said softly, glancing toward her 
elder brothers. "Is there nothing we can do? I am going to talk with them. Mayhap 
it will provide some distraction."

Elrond opened his mouth to argue, only to be silenced by a look from his wife. 
"Let her try," Celebrian said quietly, absently braiding her own mithril-pale hair. "It 
can do no harm, hervennen."

"I suppose it cannot," the Imladrian Lord agreed with a smile, catching one of the 
restless hands and holding it tightly. "And I prefer your hair unbound," he teased, 
loosing the silken plait that lay in coils on the velvet seat. "’Tis like moonlit water."

"Aye, and it tangles ‘round my legs like river-weed," Celebrian returned with an 
amused smile, before turning her attention to Arwen and the twins.

Elrond’s only daughter had settled in the floor before her brothers, her elbows 
propped casually on Elladan’s knee. "Will you ignore me, also, tôren?" she asked 
gently, looking up at the elder twin.

Turning clouded grey eyes on the elleth, Elladan remained silent for a long 
moment, then smiled slightly, twisting a strand of his sister’s chocolate-brown 
hair around one finger. "Nay, thêl dithen, I will not ignore you. ‘Twould not be 
possible, even if I tried, hmm?"

"Of course not," Arwen said with a smile. "And what of you, Rohir?" she asked, 
giving the elf-knight his childhood name. "Will you attempt the impossible?"
With a heavy sigh, Elrohir shook his head, the smallest of smiles touching his 
lips. "Nay, Wen, I know better than to ignore you. ‘Twould likely end with my 
hair sticky, and my skin blue."

Her eyes sparkling, Arwen pouted fetchingly. "Do not exaggerate, tôren. I only 
did that one time, and ‘twas naught but honey, and blueberries." 

Chuckling, Elladan reached down and pulled the elleth into their chair, burying 
his nose in her wavy tresses. "’Tis good to have you back home. What were you 
up to in ‘Lorien, thêl dithen ?"

"Only the usual celebration doings," Arwen answered casually, causing eyebrows 
to raise on two identical faces. "’Twas much like feasting time here. I had quite a 
lot of fun."

"Would you like to elaborate on ‘usual celebration doings’, Wen?" Elrohir asked 
suspiciously. "Should we prepare for a horde of indignant Galadhrim? Or must 
‘Dan and I go to ‘Lorien and teach them to properly respect our sister?"

"The two of you are worse than Nana," the victim of the interrogation giggled. "I 
am full-grown, tôren, and able to look after myself. Though I appreciate your 
concern." 

Her face becoming serious, Arwen tucked an inky-black braid behind Elladan’s 
ear. "I am glad you have found another, muindyren," she said softly, pressing a 
kiss to each pale forehead. "I would that I had been here to see your happiness, 
rather than only the sorrow of your parting."

"'Tis not our intent to burden the household with our mood," Elrohir sighed, his 
face guilty. "We are not the best of company this eve. It has been a long day, 
with much time for thought."

"If ‘twas such a long day, mayhap you should go to your bed, hmm? ‘Tis possible 
it would improve both your moods," his sister answered kindly.

Elladan snorted in amusement, a trace of the usual devilment twinkling in his 
eyes. "Watch your words, Wen. ‘Twould most likely improve my disposition, aye, 
but ‘tis hardly appropriate advice from my thêl dithen, do you think?"

Elrohir grinned broadly, to the amazement of the surrounding elves. Lowering his 
voice, he teased, "Most inappropriate, indeed, thêlen. What have you been up to 
in ‘Lorien to leave you with such a bold tongue, hmm?"

Arwen stared at the snickering twins blankly for a moment, then flushed brightly 
in sudden comprehension. "'Twas not meant as such, and well you know it, 
Adan!" she hissed quietly. "Hush, Rohir!" she snapped, turning on the chuckling 
younger twin with a glare. 

Hugging his sister tightly, Elrohir said, "I am sorry, Wen. We know you meant 
well. But you have brightened our mood, at any cost."

Arwen looked at her brothers ruefully, and smiled. "Aye, I have, indeed, 
muindyren. ‘Twas worth a blush, I guess."

*********************************

~Mirkwood 2151 III~

Thranduil drew a deep breath, thankful for the short respite from the steady 
stream of elves craving his counsel on one matter or another. This weekly open 
audience, however necessary, was a thorn in the king’s side. Though he had 
ruled for centuries, the son of Oropher was still a warrior at heart, and would 
have preferred the rigors of patrol duty to the mind-numbing chatter of most of his 
visitors. 

Sitting in blessed silence in the council room, the king closed his eyes, allowing 
his mind to wander aimlessly. He had much to ponder. It had been nearly two 
moons since Legolas’ return from Imladris, but the usually forthcoming prince 
had yet to confide in his father. 

Thranduil was not a fool. Musing over his middle son’s demeanor, the king felt 
fairly confident that he knew Legolas’ secret. The prince had obviously taken a 
lover in Imladris, and a serious one, at that. The mithril cuff pointed to one of 
Elrond’s children, certainly. No other would throw around the tokens of two elven 
realms with such impunity. *‘Except Legolas, of course,’* Thranduil admitted 
wryly, if only to himself.

It pointed to one of Elrond’s sons, to be precise. Fully aware that his second 
son’s preference was for ellyn, Thranduil eliminated the Lady Arwen outright. 
Legolas may have dallied with a few maidens over the years, but this 
intensity…this was an ellon, no doubt. But which twin? 'Twas hard to imagine one 
without the other, and Legolas had always been equally close to both. The king 
found himself hoping the one in question was Elrohir, for purely selfish reasons.

Though he was equally fond of both Elrond’s sons, and indeed would have been 
hard-pressed to tell them apart without their beads, Elladan was the heir-
apparent to Imladris. If Elrond ever decided to withdraw from the daily 
responsibilities of ruling, the elder twin would take his place. And Thranduil well 
knew how little time such a burden left for extended travel. Such a match, if it 
lasted, would force Legolas to forsake Taur-na-Fuin, or live much of the time 
apart from his lover. Though Elrohir would also have duties, their nature should 
be such that he could be spared for short periods. If a binding came of the match, 
‘twould be possible to split time between the two realms.

Then there was the question of heirs. Of Thranduil’s children, the eldest and 
youngest seemed likely to present him with grandchildren. Barangolas, like his 
brother, showed a definite leaning toward his own kind. Elrond’s views he was 
not sure of…the king had to admit, heirs were far less important to immortals 
than to men…

Shaking his head ruefully, Thranduil chuckled at his own runaway thoughts. 
**''Tis scarce four moons since he left for Imladris, and I have them bound, 
serving two realms, and worrying about heirs,’** he mused with a smile. Firmly 
pushing away further thoughts of Imladris, bindings, and elflings, the king 
returned to his duties. 

**********************************

~Imladris 2151 III~

Elladan slid the beads from his hair, eyes troubled as he watched his brother. 
Elrohir stood before the arches, staring unseeingly at the moonlit gardens. 
Slipping on loose sleep-pants, the elder twin moved up behind the elf-knight, 
wrapping his arms around the other’s waist.

Elrohir settled thankfully into the embrace, tracing the rapidly fading scar on 
Elladan’s arm with a gentle finger. "’Tis nearly gone. We will have to remember to 
tell ‘Las about it, hmm?"

"Nay, ‘tis unworthy of a tale, ‘Roh. ‘Twas little more than a scratch," his brother 
replied, dropping a kiss on the tip of one ear. "Your beheading of the thug that did 
it makes a better story."

"’Twas quite a bit more than a scratch, tôren, " Elrohir argued. "The bleeding was 
frightful to see."

"So was his head as it hit the ground, rohir nín," Elladan retorted, one eyebrow 
arched teasingly.

"Better his head than yours, ‘Dan," Elrohir said soberly. "And you would have 
done the same for me, had it been my sword arm injured."

"Aye, I would, indeed," the elder twin conceded. Tightening his hold on the elf-
knight, Elladan bent his head to nuzzle the other’s neck. "But are we going to 
stand here in mutual admiration, or are you coming to bed?"

Elrohir snickered, turning in the embrace. Eyes sparkling, he pressed a lingering 
kiss to his twin’s mouth. "That is a difficult decision. Can you not admire me in 
bed, too?"

The elder twin grinned, untying his brother’s lacings before reaching for his own. 
"I believe I can manage that, melethen. Take those off."

Stripping off his sleep-pants, Elrohir turned to the bed, only to find Elladan staring 
at him intently. In response to a questioning eyebrow, the elder twin smiled 
slightly, his silver-grey eyes already darkening. "I am admiring you, just as you 
asked, rohir nín. Come here, and let me show you."

Dropping fluidly to the bed, the elf-knight stretched himself beside his twin, 
reaching out to pull the other close. Raising himself on one elbow, Elladan 
captured his lover’s lips in a possessive kiss, forcing them apart to delve deeply 
into the wet heat. Pulling away, he slid down and took Elrohir’s pierced nipple in 
his mouth, suckling and tugging at the mithril ring with his tongue, rolling the 
peaked left nipple between his fingers teasingly. 

The elf-knight groaned, tangling his hands in the silken obsidian tresses that slid 
tantalizingly across his chest and stomach. "Oh, gods, ‘Dan…" he panted, 
tugging the other back up into a fiery kiss. Arching up, Elrohir rocked his hips 
slowly, rubbing their hardened lengths together, leaving both whimpering.
Reaching between their slick bodies, Elladan closed his hand around his 
brother’s straining erection, drawing another desperate groan from the elf-knight. 
"Wait…please…" he gasped, grabbing the other’s wrist. 

"Why, rohir nín?" the elder twin purred, trailing his tongue wetly from ear to neck, 
suckling and nipping to mark the translucent skin. "Does it not please you, hmm?"

"Sweet Elbereth, of course it pleases me…" Elrohir moaned, turning his head 
instinctively to offer the other ear. "But…stop…please…just a minute…"

Elladan obediently stopped his nuzzling, but kept his teeth closed on the tip of his 
brother’s ear.

**Aye? What is amiss, melethen?**

**Together, el nín. Let go with me.**

Allowing the reddened ear to slip from his mouth, Elladan raised his head to 
catch the elf-knight’s eyes. Identical midnight-dark glances locked, sending a 
shiver through both elves, and the elder twin smiled wickedly.

**Oh, I intend to, rohir nín.**

Returning his hand to Elrohir’s weeping arousal Elladan positioned it against his 
own and began to stroke them as one, mingling the leaking fluids, slicking both 
hard columns in a merciless rhythm that soon had both twins gasping for breath.

Suddenly seizing his brother’s wrist, Elrohir pulled the pumping hand away, 
thrusting up violently with his hips, causing their aching erections to rub together 
forcefully. "Oh, Valar!…like that…" he hissed, pulling Elladan down against 
himself with an iron grip, grinding their bodies together roughly. "No more 
hand…like that…"

No longer capable of speech, the elder twin growled harshly, returning the fierce 
hold, digging his fingers into the other’s buttocks as they writhed together, pale 
limbs and ebony hair merging into one indiscernible whole. Arching his back 
forcefully, Elrohir froze for an instant, then shrieked wordlessly as his silvery seed 
spilled over both bodies. 

Elladan held the trembling form helplessly, feeling his own groin tighten as the 
warm wetness splashed across his stomach and his twitching length. With a last 
sobbing gasp he reached his own release, shuddering fiercely as his twin 
squeezed him harder.

As their ragged breathing eased, Elrohir felt a teasing voice brush his mind.

**Was that enough admiration for you, rohir nín?**

Snuggling closer to his soul’s mate, he let go a reply.

**‘Twas a good start…**

************************

Elvish Translations:
melethen - my love
Nana, naneth - Mama/Mom, Mother
hervennen - my husband
tôren - my brother
elleth - female elf
thêl dithen - little sister
muindyren - my brothers 
thêlen - my sister
ellyn - male elves
ellon - male elf
Taur-na-Fuin - Mirkwood (wood of nightshade)
rohir nín - my knight
melethen - my love 
el nín - my star


Interlude- Educating the King

~Mirkwood 2151 III~

Legolas paced the floor of his bed-chamber, distractedly toying with the mithril 
cuff that wrapped his forearm. He had returned from a two-week patrol this day to 
welcome news. Elladan and Elrohir were on their way to Mirkwood at last, and 
expected within the week, barring unforeseen delays. After a separation of 
almost four moons, the woodland prince was to be reunited with his lovers- and 
he had still not spoken with his father.

Sighing, Legolas cursed himself soundly for delaying the inevitable. Though he 
had once thought it best to await the twin’s arrival before telling Thranduil of their 
changed relationship, he now felt it a grave mistake. Mirkwood was his realm, 
thus her reaction- as well as that of her king- was his responsibility. In addition, 
Thranduil was aware of his son’s unusual reticence, and saddened by it. 
The prince feared that, however unwittingly, his continued silence would foster 
the impression he was ashamed of his lovers, of their bond. He would not let the 
twins arrive to such a reception. Thranduil, at least, must know exactly how 
things stood between the three princes before their arrival. His mind made up, 
Legolas headed determinedly for the king’s study.

*************************************************

Thranduil looked up expectantly as Legolas knocked on the open door, 
beckoning his son in with a broad grin. "Come in, ionen," the king invited, laying 
down his quill.

"I hope I am not interrupting, Ada," the prince said with a weak smile. "I need to 
speak with you, if you have time."

"Nay, you are not interrupting. ‘Tis time for a break, anyway, pen neth," Thranduil 
answered, his brow creasing slightly as Legolas firmly shut the door. "Pour us a 
drink, hmm?"

Rising from his chair gracefully, the king moved to one of the comfortable chairs 
that sat before the open balcony doors. Legolas filled two goblets with the heady 
Dorwinion red that the wood-elves preferred, then dropped into his seat, handing 
one glass to his father.

Thranduil sipped his drink appreciatively, then turned his emerald gaze on the 
prince. "What is troubling you, ionen?" the king asked gently. "You have been 
distant from me these past weeks, even when you were present."

Legolas bowed his head guiltily. "I know Ada, and I am sorry," he sighed. "I have 
struggled with this for many days, unable to see my way."

"And now you have decided that ‘tis best to share your problem with me?" 
Thranduil said, his eyes twinkling slightly. "I would like that, Legolas."

Unsure how exactly to proceed, the prince bit his lip. "’Twould be incorrect to call 
it a problem, Ada," he began. "At least, ‘tis not a problem for me."

"But you fear it may be a problem in my eyes," Thranduil returned, looking 
intently at his son. "Am I that frightening, pen neth?"

Legolas shook his head firmly, holding the king’s gaze. "Nay, Ada, not 
frightening. But I love you dearly, and your esteem is important to me. I would not 
risk losing it without great cause."

"And this event is sufficient cause, ionen?" Thranduil asked quietly, his face 
sober.

The prince was still for a moment, then nodded. "Aye, it is, indeed. ‘Tis sufficient 
cause to take the risk. Or any other risk, Ada."

The king smiled suddenly, and reached for his son’s hand, gripping it tightly. 
"Then we will work it out, hmm? For I am loath to lose your esteem, also."

Somewhat heartened, Legolas took a deep breath, and began. "I have not told 
you of all that happened in Imladris. ‘Twas more than a pleasant holiday, híren. 
I…I have left the larger part of my heart there, Ada."

"In whose care, ionen?" Thranduil asked kindly, touching the gleaming mithril 
cuff. "I assume ‘tis one of the sons of Elrond?"

Legolas swallowed hard, then met his father’s questioning gaze frankly. "Nay, 
Ada, ‘tis not *one* of Lord Elrond’s sons," he replied honestly, searching the 
king’s face for understanding.

Thranduil looked puzzled, his brow wrinkling. "But the cuff, ionen…surely no 
other would dare…"

Reaching out to lay a hand on his father’s shoulder, Legolas repeated, "’Tis not 
*one* of Elrond’s sons, Ada…’tis…"

Realization dawning, the king’s eyes widened suddenly, his voice rising at least 
an octave, as he broke in, "…*’tis both!*  For the love of Elbereth, Legolas, what 
are you thinking? You are bedding *both* the Peredhil gwanûn?"

Wincing at the language, the prince agreed cautiously. "Aye, but ‘tis more than a 
simple tumble, Ada. I love them…"

Holding up a hand, the king closed his eyes for a moment. His voice nearer its 
normal rich timbre, he asked, "Does Elrond know?" When Legolas nodded, 
Thranduil rolled his eyes, muttering unflattering remarks in which ‘secretive, 
devil-spawning Noldo’ figured prominently. 

Regaining control, the king turned more calmly to his son. "But how do *they*  
feel about sharing? There is but one of you, ionen, and I would not have you torn 
in half, literally or in spirit. And it would pain me to see the gwanûn turn on one 
another."

Uncertain how much detail his father needed - or wanted - Legolas chose his 
words carefully. "’Tis no danger of that, Ada. Elladan and Elrohir share one 
faer…’tis as one soul that they love me, not as rivals. To them it is not a matter of 
sharing. There are only two souls involved."

"Two souls, mayhap, but three bodies, Legolas," Thranduil returned. "How can 
such an arrangement survive?" The corners of his mouth curling slightly, he 
queried, "Will you keep a bed calendar?"

Surprised by the unexpected teasing, the prince found himself grinning at the 
idea. **‘I will have to suggest that when they arrive,’**  he thought, suppressing a 
snicker. Turning his attention firmly back to his father, Legolas looked at the king 
appraisingly before speaking. "I am not sure how much you want to know, Ada. 
Surely ‘tis an uncomfortable subject for you."

"What ‘tis an uncomfortable subject, pen neth?" Thranduil asked with a small 
smile. "My son’s bed-play?" His cheeks flushing slightly, Legolas nodded. The 
king shook his head, his face kind. "Nay, ionen, ‘tis not too uncomfortable." 
Smiling at the prince’s reddened face, he went on, "Though if the memories 
cause you to color like that, I want no details, thank you all the same."

Grappling for a way to explain the triad without creating explicit mental imagery, 
Legolas sat silently for a long moment, then drew a deep breath. "We need ready 
no guest rooms for their stay, Ada."

"But surely we must provide a second bed chamber. I cannot have Elrond’s sons 
sleeping by turn on the floor," Thranduil replied, his hosting skills engaged. " A 
chamber near yours, of course. There is that nice one just below…"

"*Ada*," the prince broke in firmly, securing the king’s attention. When his father 
raised a questioning eyebrow, he said gently, "We have no need of a second 
chamber, Ada. Nor a second bed. Mine is quite sufficiently large. And all that is 
needed."

Thranduil stared at his son for what seemed an eternity, and opened his mouth to 
speak. Then closed it again. After several attempts, he managed what he knew 
was a singularly inadequate response. "Ai!"

**********************

Elvish Translations:
ionen - my son
Ada, Adar - Dad, Father
pen neth - young one
híren - my lord
gwanûn - twins
faer - spirit, soul
Ai! - Oh!



Chapter 4

~The Eaves of Mirkwood 2151 III~

Two heavily cloaked figures broke from the small group of horsemen, turning 
their mounts to face the departing Rangers. Exchanging gestures of farewell with 
each of the riders, two lyrical voices rang in soft chorus through the frosty cold of 
a late winter dawn. "Navaer, Arahael. Elbereth’s protection."

"I do not like leaving you at the edge of this accursed wood, gwedyren. Most 
particularly not in such cold," the leader of the riders said, his face grave. "I do 
not fancy carrying news of your fall home to Imladris."

"We are elves, Arahael. We do not heed the cold overly much, as well you know. 
Do not worry so, gwadoren," Elrohir replied kindly, his breath visible in the frigid 
air. "We were traipsing in the wilds long ere your people were driven to 
wandering."

"Aye, we were, indeed," Elladan agreed. "We were glad of your company over 
the mountains, but we need no escort in Mirkwood. ‘Twill be fine, gwadoren. And 
you have many more miles to go on your own journey. Best begin early, and set 
a good pace."

Nodding reluctantly, Arahael pulled up his horse, leaning forward to grip each 
elf’s arm in turn. "Navaer, Elladan…Elrohir. Elbereth’s blessing, gwedyren." With 
a last wave of his hand, the Chieftain of the Dunedain led his men away, leaving 
the two elves on the edge of the great wood.

Twinkling silver-grey eyes met above growing smiles, as the twins urged their 
mounts forward.

"Step lively, Mithrengil," Elladan ordered, slapping the shade-grey stallion’s neck 
affectionately. "We are going to see your friend, Ornfaer."

Elrohir’s slightly darker mount tossed his head with a snort, as though in answer 
to the elder twin. Chuckling, the elf-knight leaned up and scratched the stallion’s 
ears affectionately. "Aye, you too, Alagos," he said, turning to follow his brother 
into the forest.

**************************

~Mirkwood 2151 III~ 

"How will you manage this, ionen?" Thranduil asked, concern evident in his 
voice. "I would ask only that you maintain a sense of propriety." As Legolas 
opened his mouth to protest the king’s choice of words, the elder elf raised his 
hand in a well-known request for silence. "I have spent some measure of time in 
Imladris myself, pen neth, and I realize Elrond’s folk are less restrained in their 
displays of affection than is usual for our realm."

"I believe I may be credited with knowing how to behave in public, híren," the 
prince said with a frown. "I have no plans that involve coupling in the courtyard, if 
that is your fear. And I will try to muffle my screams."

"Legolas!" the king said sternly, both eyebrows elevated in umbrage. "There is no 
call for such sarcasm. I have no doubt you can and will behave properly, ernilen." 
His face softening, Thranduil continued, "I do not pretend to understand exactly 
how such a relationship came to be, or how it can endure. But I will support you 
in this, ionen, if it is your heart’s desire."

Dropping his head, the prince replied, "Forgive me, Ada. ‘Twas disrespectful to 
speak to you in such a manner. But I am no more likely to make a spectacle of 
myself than Anteruon, or Barangolas."

"Aye, and possibly less so," the king agreed. "But there is no denying this 
relationship is out of the ordinary. Will you discuss it with your brothers ere the 
gwanûn arrive, or leave them to discover the situation in their own time?"

"Barangolas is somewhat aware already," Legolas admitted. At Thranduil’s 
inquiring look, he shrugged, grinning sheepishly. "Younger brothers are a trial. 
He would not let it rest until I confessed." As the king’s eyes widened, the prince 
hurriedly added, "But not in detail."

"Mayhap I should place him in charge of interrogating prisoners," Thranduil said 
with a wry smile, "Or take lessons from him myself." His smile fading, he looked 
at Legolas intently. "What of Anteruon? ‘Tis likely to cause some unpleasantness, 
pen neth."

"Aye, I know,’ the prince answered soberly. "I have no wish to cause discord in 
the family, or the realm, Ada. And I love Anteruon, despite the occasional urge to 
throttle him. But I will not have this relationship treated like something shameful. I 
refuse to skulk in the shadows to satisfy anyone's twisted idea of propriety, and I 
will not ask Elladan and Elrohir to engage in any pretense."

Thranduil was silent for a moment, then said thoughtfully, "If you will have my 
advice, ionen, I would let Anteruon come to terms with this slowly. Forcing a 
confrontation will do naught but raise his back. Do as you must, and let him ask 
his own questions, in his own time." 

Nodding in agreement, Legolas offered, "’Twould be a mistake, I think, to treat 
this as an oddity. Have I ever announced a lover to my brothers, or to the realm? 
‘Tis a personal matter, and no explanation is owed to anyone, save yourself, 
perhaps."

"Ai! The privileges of fatherhood, hmm?" the king chuckled. "I feel you are right, 
Legolas. ‘Tis no need to borrow strife. ‘Twill find you, I fear, without any 
encouragement. But we will face that when it comes, ionen."

"Hannon chen, Ada," the prince said embracing his father warmly. "I will…"

**‘Las? Can you hear me, melethen?**

"Legolas? What is wrong, ionen?" Thranduil asked in concern as the prince froze 
in place, his eyes wide.

**Anor nín?** 

Breaking into a joyful grin, Legolas distractedly shushed the king. "Wait, Ada, 
please."

**‘Dan? ‘Roh? Where are you?**

**We are leaving the second clearing, soon as ‘Dan smothers the fire.**

**‘Tis done, muindor. ‘Las, can you hear us both?**

**Aye, I can, indeed, el nín. ‘Tis as though you are standing here with me.**

**We will be very soon, anor nín. Melim chen…we will be with you in a few hours, 
hmm?**

**Melin chen, el nín, rohir nín. I will meet you at the gates.**

"Legolas?" the king repeated, grasping his son’s arm tightly. "Are you well?"

"I am more than well, Ada," the prince replied, his face beaming. "Elladan and 
Elrohir are leaving the nearest clearing. They should be here shortly past the 
midday meal."

His eyes widening, Thranduil queried, "You mindspeak with them, pen neth?"

"Aye, and ‘twas much clearer than the last time," Legolas answered, unaware of 
his father’s fast-growing amazement. "I could hear them both, as though they 
were here in the chamber with us. ‘Twas quite nice."

"You have learned quickly, Legolas. Did Elrond tutor you whilst you were in the 
valley?" Thranduil probed curiously.

"Nay, Ada, no one taught me, so to say. Elladan discovered that he could reach 
me quite by accident one day," the prince explained briefly, wisely deciding that 
details of the event were unnecessary. "’Tis not difficult."

"They are still a fair distance away, ionen," the king said slowly. "’Tis at the outer 
reach of most minds…indeed, ‘twould almost be proper to call it farspeaking, of a 
sort."

"That is excellent, then, Ada, is it not?" the prince asked, his eyes shining 
delightedly. "Mayhap I will be able to reach them in Imladris one day, if I continue 
to strive, hmm?"

"I do not doubt that you will," Thranduil agreed, his face thoughtful. 

***********************************************

"Daro!"

The command rang out from above, even as three elven guards, bows at the 
ready, dropped from the trees, barring the narrow path. 

"Man anírach?" the middle guard demanded sternly, his eyes roving over the two 
cloaked travelers.

Recognizing the copper-haired sentry, Elrohir forced back a grin and replied, 
"Chen ad, Barangolas?"

"Elrohir? Elladan?" the younger elf queried, a smile spreading slowly across his 
face. "Mae govannen. ’Twould be best to let your ears show, mellynen, lest you 
be shot as brigands, and the mistake discovered after."

Chuckling, the twins pushed back their hoods and slid to the ground. Embracing 
each in turn, Barangolas added, "And ‘twould then be my head and bits Legolas 
would seek, hmm? ‘Tis in my best interest that you arrive safely at the gates. Do 
you wish an escort?"

Looking thoughtfully at the youngest woodland prince, Elladan replied, "Nay, we 
know the path well enough. Lest we shall need a friendly companion when we 
arrive?"

Barangolas chortled delightedly. "I wager you will find the welcome quite warm. 
My brother has been pacing before the gates since the nooning, and Ada will 
wait ‘til you enter the Halls." Grinning, he teased, "On with you, and hurry, ere 
Legolas goes mad."

Leading Alagos down the hidden path to the gates of the Thranduil’s halls, Elrohir 
said musingly, "Barangolas knows something of our relationship, hmm?"

"Aye, he certainly does," the elder twin agreed, tightening his grip on Mithrengil’s 
bridle. "And he did not seem discomfited. We can only hope for such…"

Coming suddenly into the small clearing before the gates, Elladan let his thought 
fall away unfinished. 

The entrance to the woodland realm was flung open in welcome, and before it 
stood Legolas, his face aglow as he started toward the weary travelers. Trusting 
the horses to stand, the twins met him halfway, gathering him in a fierce double 
embrace.

Snuggling tightly against his lovers, the woodland prince breathed deeply, 
inhaling the familiar scent that seemed to cling to them through all trials and 
travels. A scent of brisk wind and rain, of waterfalls and evergreens…of Imladris.

"We have missed you, anor nín," Elrohir whispered, burying his nose in the sunlit 
golden hair.

"Aye, we have, indeed," Elladan said softly, with a chaste kiss to one ivory cheek. 
"’Twas surely the longest winter ever suffered on Arda."

"And I have missed you," Legolas answered, nuzzling each pale throat, his 
tongue lapping gently over the familiar skin. "Very much, indeed."

"Stop, ‘Las," Elrohir warned, even as he instinctively leaned toward the teasing 
touches. "’Tis not a good idea."

"I find it quite to my liking," the woodland prince retorted, pressing a lingering kiss 
to each long-missed mouth. "And think it an excellent idea."

"It is quite to my liking, also," Elladan agreed with a smile, running a golden braid 
through his fingers. "But I feel fairly certain your adar would frown on a pile of 
coupling elves before his gates. And you are testing my control sorely, anor nín."

"Aye, and I have none to test," the younger twin added cheerfully, "So we had 
best greet King Thranduil soon as may be, hmm? We can then give your 
excellent idea serious attention."

Pulling away reluctantly, Legolas nodded. "Mayhap you are right. ‘Twould be 
foolish to try Ada’s patience so early in your visit." Turning toward the gates, the 
prince caught a glimpse of golden hair atop green robes, and drew a deep 
breath. "Come on," he urged, wrapping an arm around each of his lovers. "Ada is 
waiting just beyond the gates."

"Does he know, ‘Las?" Elladan asked belatedly, as they walked toward the 
waiting monarch.

"If he did not ere our arrival, he does now," Elrohir snickered before the prince 
could reply.

Casting a reproachful look at the elf-knight, Legolas replied, "Aye, he does, 
but…"

Further explanation was delayed as the woodland king stepped into the path of 
the trio. "Mae govannen, Elladan…Elrohir. Gûren linna ceni chen."

Moving as one elf, the twins stepped away from Legolas and bowed low, their 
faces serious. "Mae govannen, King Thranduil," they chorused. "Men lín cauno."

Smiling warmly, the king laid a hand on each dark head. "I have no wish to 
command you. And there is no need for formality between us. Come, let me look 
at the two of you." 

Shaking his head slightly, Thranduil carefully studied the mirror images before 
him, his smile becoming wistful. Naught was left of youthful awkwardness in the 
elves standing there. Beautiful they were, as always, but the soft beauty of their 
adolescence had crystallized into something much harder, much more 
dangerous…a dark, visceral sensuality that drove its hook straight through the 
heart, into the groin.** ‘Ai, ionen,**  he thought anxiously, **What have you 
done?’**

"Ada?" Legolas said with a frown, "What is amiss?"

Drawing a deep breath, the king turned to his son, "Nothing, pen neth. I was lost 
in thought and memory. A risk of age, I fear."

As he returned his attention to his guests, Thranduil found himself caught in 
Elladan’s gaze, the grey eyes kind, but appraising, as though aware of his 
musings. Looking to the younger twin, he found that Elrohir was looking at him in 
like manner. Here, at least, the king could still glimpse the younglings he had 
known. Their unusual silvery eyes still sparkled with the same life and warmth. 

Somewhat reassured, the woodland monarch smiled. "I know you must be 
hungry, and weary…and in need of a bath." Gazing pointedly at the prince, he 
continued, "Legolas will show you to your chambers. I will have a tray sent while 
you bathe, if that is to your liking?" As the twins nodded gratefully, he went on, 
"Then I wish you a good rest, and will expect you at my table for dinner."

As they turned to climb the curving stairs, Elrohir stopped suddenly. "What of the 
horses, tôren?" he asked Elladan with a grin. "We have walked off and left our 
mounts in the wood unattended."

"The stable hands took them," Legolas said reassuringly. "’Tis the usual way 
here for guests to leave their horses at the gates, since they must dismount to 
enter. Mithrengil and Alagos will be well cared for, and stabled with Ornfaer. I had 
already left instructions."

"Then let us see to our own care and feeding, hmm?" Elladan suggested, 
nudging Legolas toward the stairs. "Lead on."

As they entered the spacious dwelling on the third level of the Halls, Elladan and 
Elrohir looked around in amazement. The main room was dominated by a large 
bed, its frame of thick, bark covered limbs. On the wall over the bed hung an 
enormous oak leaf, wrought entirely of hammered gold, the thin metal pressed 
into a shape both exquisite and incredibly life-like.

The entire chamber seemed woven of twigs, yet the floor was solid underfoot, 
and scattered with soft furs. A massive iron fire-bowl sat atop a clay pedestal, 
and glowing coals heated a kettle of water. The walls did not reach the roof, but 
stopped an arm span short, allowing dappled sunlight to filter onto the simple 
wooden furnishings. An open door in the back wall revealed a large balcony, 
which reached out among the leaves, away from the courtyard.

"This is your chamber, is it not ‘Las?" Elrohir asked, looking at the prince 
curiously. "I recognize your bow," he added, nodding at the weapon propped 
against the wall.

"Aye, it is," Legolas answered, taking the two packs and placing them in a corner. 
"’Tis not so fancy as the Last Homely House, but quite comfortable."

"’Tis perfect, anor nín," Elladan said sincerely, moving to touch the woven walls 
in wonder. "I do not remember such walls from our visits as younglings."

"You likely stayed in guest chambers," the prince explained. "They are mostly 
ground level, and have stone walls, and such." Looking anxious, he added, "I can 
have one prepared, if you would be more at home."

"We do not wish live as we would at home, ‘Las," the elder twin assured him. 
"We came to be with you. And this chamber is wonderful."

"Aye, we did, and it is," Elrohir agreed. "But is this what your Ada intended? For 
us to share your chambers?"

"He did, indeed, rohir nín . Bu that is enough talk for the moment, hmm? You are 
welcome to use my bathing chamber, or I will take you to the cavern pools, if you 
prefer."

Eyes sparkling, Elladan asked, "You think us in need of a washing, then, 
melethen?"

"Aye, I do," Legolas replied with a grin, planting an inviting kiss on the elder 
twin’s lips. "I have no intention of tumbling two filthy elves."

"You intend to tumble two elves? ‘Las! And in the afternoon?" Elrohir teased, 
nuzzling an ear. "What will your Ada think?"

"Nothing that approaches the reality, I wager," the prince purred, kissing the elf-
knight warmly. "Now go scrub, before your food arrives."

"We will use your tub, anor nín," Elladan said with a grin. "’Twill be faster."

Picking up the kettle of hot water, Legolas led the way into the small bathing 
chamber. A large tub stood in one corner, under a short hollow branch that 
extended through the wall. As his guests watched in surprise, the prince moved 
the wooden tube slightly, and a rush of water poured into the tub. He emptied the 
hot water into the bath, then refilled the kettle under the water flow. 

Noting the twins’ confusion he grinned, then explained, "From the reservoir tanks. 
We collect rain and snowmelt to provide water for the Halls. Now into the bath 
with you. There are soaps and oils on the shelf, and towels on the rack."

"Clean clothes?" Elrohir said, one eyebrow arched in question.

"’Twould be a waste of time," Legolas answered, blue-green eyes twinkling. "Just 
wear a towel."

*************************
Names:
Mithrengil- "grey-star" (‘Dan’s horse)
Alagos- "storm of wind" (‘Roh’s horse)

Elvish translations:
Navaer- farewell 
gwedyren- my sworn brothers
ionen - my son
pen neth - young one
híren - my lord
ernilen - my prince
Ada, Adar - Dad, Father
gwanûn - twins
Hannon chen - Thank you
melethen - my love
el nín - my star
anor nín - my sun
rohir nín - my knight
muindor - brother
Melim chen - We love you
Melin chen - I love you
Daro - Stop
Man anírach? – "What do you want?"
Chen ad? – "You again?"
mellynen – my friends (plural)
Mae govannen- well met 
Gûren linna ceni chen – My heart sings to see you
Men lín cauno – We are yours to command
tôren - my brother


Chapter 5

Legolas stripped off his mithril cuff, then his tunic, biting his lip in frustration. 
**‘Blessed Eru,** ’ he thought, **‘How long does it take to bathe?’**

Prowling impatiently around the bed-chamber, he nibbled distractedly at the tray 
of fruit, cheese and bread that had just arrived. A full bottle of potent red wine 
accompanied the food, and the woodland prince absently poured himself a glass 
of the treasured Dorwinion offering. 

Intent on his task, Legolas failed to note the soundless swing of the bathing-
chamber door, until gentle hands twisted his golden hair, baring the back of his 
neck for a rain of soft kisses.

"’Tis a powerful libation, ‘Las," Elladan teased, snaking his arms around the 
prince’s waist, his palms sliding smoothly over the bare skin. "And could interfere 
mightily with your intention of tumbling two elves."

Leaning back against the bath-warm body, Legolas sighed deeply. "I assure you, 
el nín, there is not *that* much wine in the realm," he promised with a smile, 
burying his face in the damp ebony-dark locks that streamed over his lover’s 
shoulders. 

"I have missed you, anor nín," the elder twin whispered, lapping and nipping 
gently at one perfectly pointed ear. "*We* have missed you…your smell, and feel, 
and taste…"

Turning in the loose embrace, the prince wrapped his arms around Elladan, 
pressing their bodies together snugly. "Then taste me, melethen," he whispered, 
tongue flicking invitingly over the other’s lips, begging entrance, "before I go 
mad."

Legolas growled in triumph as the dark elf’s mouth opened, taking in the questing 
tongue eagerly. Struggling to maintain control of the kiss, the prince tangled both 
hands in his lover’s silky tresses, preventing all but the smallest movement. 
Teeth clinked together violently as tongues wrestled wetly for dominance… then 
suddenly, the battle ended. 

Much to Legolas’ surprise, Elladan’s kiss became yielding, nearly passive, as he 
allowed the prince free rein to plunder his mouth, merely caressing the thrusting 
tongue lightly with his own. At first astounded by the rare surrender, then 
enflamed by what it might portend, Legolas moaned into the willing mouth, 
grinding his hips enticingly against his towel-clad partner.

The elder twin whimpered at the contact, pressing forward urgently, his hands 
sliding down the archer’s back to pull their bodies more tightly together. His own 
eyes emerald-dark, Legolas pulled away from the warm mouth and found himself 
looking into eyes that were no longer silver-grey, but nearly black with desire. 
"Would you have me?" Elladan asked softly, his breath coming in shallow gasps. 
"Would it please you this day?"

"Aye, I would, " the prince breathed, "’Twould please me very much, indeed."
"Can I not leave the two of you alone for a moment?" an amused voice broke in, 
as Elrohir slipped his arms around Legolas, expertly loosing the straining 
leggings. "’Tis nearly indecent haste you show, don’t you think?" 

Lowering his head to suckle the ivory throat, marking the pale skin with a rosy 
bruise, the elf-knight murmured, "I wager I could spend myself just watching you, 
anor nín." 

Turning his head to capture Elrohir’s mouth in a fierce kiss, the prince whispered, 
"’Twould be a shame were you to be undone just yet, rohir nín. I have need of 
you here."

Reaching inside the opened leggings, the younger twin ran teasing fingers over 
Legolas’ hardened length. Hissing at the touch, the prince pressed back against 
Elrohir, pulling Elladan with him. "Elbereth, ‘Roh, be careful!" he gasped, his back 
arching reflexively, the friction causing the elder twin to groan as well. "Else I will 
be the one undone."

"Aye, and ‘tis a sight I am eager to see again, ‘Las. It has been too long," the elf-
knight growled wickedly, licking a sensitive ear tip lavishly. "But what have you 
done to ‘Dan to leave him so pliable, hmm?" 

Pressing his mouth to the prince’s ear, he lowered his voice further, the growl 
becoming a silky purr. "’Tis only you and me, melethen, did you know?" At the 
arch of one golden eyebrow, Elrohir continued, "He has never allowed another to 
take him. In all the years since our majority, we are the only two. Does it not 
make you feel powerful, anor nín? And loved?"

"Very loved," Legolas said soberly, raining soft kisses over Elladan’s face, before 
capturing his mouth gently. "Come lie with me, please?" the prince asked, 
tugging impatiently at the concealing towel. "There has been enough play. I need 
you." Reaching back, he stripped the elf-knight of his towel in one swift 
movement. "Both of you."

Fetching a vial of oil from the bathing chamber, Legolas returned to find both the 
twins stretched wantonly on his bed, glowing like marble and obsidian in the 
filtered sunlight. Stripping off his leggings roughly, the prince slipped gracefully 
between them, placing a hand on each well-muscled chest. Kissing each of his 
lovers soundly, he flipped open the oil vial, pouring a generous puddle into 
Elrohir’s hand first. Grasping Elladan’s wrist, he drizzled a pool of oil into the 
elder twin’s palm as well, sending a thought in response to the arch of an ebony 
eyebrow.

**Help me, hmm?**

An answer came quickly, as Elladan closed his oiled hand around the prince’s 
turgid length, slicking it with the warm fluid.

**Of course, ernilen. Whatever you wish.**

Groaning at the feel of the slippery hand on him, Legolas quickly splashed oil into 
his own hand, then coated Elrohir’s hard flesh with languid strokes, before 
stretching himself out beside the elder twin, his oiled fingers tracing light circles, 
teasing apart the pale thighs. 

"I have thought of little but this every night since I returned," the prince 
whispered, sliding down to suckle and nip at the mithril nipple ring, while his oiled 
fingers moved enticingly over Elladan’s puckered entrance, pressing harder with 
each pass. Nipping his way back up to the pale throat, Legolas bit down sharply, 
marking his lover. 

As he gently slipped two fingers past the ring of muscle, the dark elf gasped 
sharply, pushing down on the invading hand. "Oh, gods, ‘Las…more, please," he 
breathed, whimpering wordlessly as the scissoring fingers brushed lightly over his 
sweet spot.

Hearing a sharp intake of breath as Elrohir moved close behind him, Legolas 
obligingly bent his top leg, hissing in pleasure as first two fingers, then three, 
stretched him gently, slicking him with oil. Moaning softly, he pulled his mouth 
from the bruised throat, leaning his head back to lap at the elf-knight’s jaw, then 
suckle his neck, leaving a near-copy of Elladan’s marking on the translucent skin. 
"Please, rohir nín…that feels so good…" he gasped, pressing back instinctively, 
drawing a hoarse groan from the younger twin.

"How would you have me, melethen?" Elladan asked, his usually lyrical voice 
raspy with desire. "’Tis your day."

"Like this," the woodland prince breathed, moving between the dark elf’s spread 
thighs. "I would see your face, el nín." Steadying the hips that were lifted in 
shameless invitation, Legolas positioned himself carefully, then entered the tight 
passage with one smooth thrust, unable to hold back a groan. Muscular legs 
immediately curled around his waist, pulling him deeper into the oil-slicked 
warmth, then slid back up over his arms, granting him space to move. "Elbereth, 
‘Dan…be still," he begged as the elder twin growled, rocking his hips temptingly. 
"I will not last…please…"

Elrohir quickly moved behind the archer, rubbing his aching erection teasingly 
against the oiled cleft. "Are you ready, anor nín?" he asked hoarsely, grasping 
the ivory hips firmly. Receiving a frantic nod in answer, he pushed forward, 
burying himself in the welcoming heat, a hiss of pleasure escaping as Legolas 
pushed back forcefully. "Move…please…" he rasped, loosing his tight grip on the 
other’s hips.

The prince began to move rhythmically, thrusting forward to sheath his throbbing 
shaft in the silky passage, then back to impale himself once more on the piercing 
length, his breathing becoming audible as he gave in to the sensations and 
increased the pace of his movements. 

Entranced by the sight of the usually dominant Elladan spread beneath him like a 
willing sacrifice- eyes dark as night, ebony hair spread over the bed, hands 
wrapped in the headboard to anchor himself against the pounding thrusts- 
Legolas felt the first faint tightening in his stomach. Quickly grasping the dark 
elf’s weeping arousal in an oil-slick hand, he began stroking in time with his 
increasingly violent thrusts, forcing a string of incomprehensible oaths from the 
elder twin.

For a brief moment of clarity, the prince wondered what anyone nearby would 
make of the noises he was sure were ahead, then he ceased to care. Elladan’s 
body arched forcefully off the bed as he came with a shrieking growl, silvery seed 
spilling copiously over his stomach.

Squeezed by the intense spasms, Legolas managed a few more powerful thrusts 
before he climaxed, sinking his teeth into Elladan’s leg in a vain attempt to muffle 
the feral howl that escaped as he released deep inside his lover. Elrohir pushed 
forward in one last thrust, stifling a keening cry as his orgasm was pulled from 
him by the throbbing heat of the prince’s body.

Collapsing into a tangled pile, the trio reluctantly pulled apart, then curled tightly 
together, the twins cradling Legolas between them as harsh breathing slowly 
calmed, and racing hearts stopped pounding. Drawing a deep breath, the prince 
said softly, "Melin chen. I have missed having you to hold me like this the most."

"Melim chen, ‘Las," Elladan whispered, nipping and nuzzling the prince’s ivory 
throat, a second red-purple bruise blooming softly. "We have missed this, also."

"Aye, we have," Elrohir agreed, running gentle fingers through the tangled golden 
hair. "Do not ever doubt that you are missed, anor nín. Without you we are only 
one soul, hmm?"

Legolas suddenly remembered his father’s ‘two souls, but three bodies’ 
comment, and grinned broadly, causing questioning eyebrows to arch in tandem. 
Recounting the conversation in full, he snickered, "So what do you think, ‘Dan? 
‘Roh? Shall we have a bed calendar? With little figures for each of us, do you 
think?"

"Aye, by all means," Elladan said with a grin. "’Twould serve your Ada right if we 
made one and strung it from the balcony. Bed calendar, indeed."

"Do not be so hasty, tôren," Elrohir broke in, his face sober. "’Tis not an entirely 
bad idea." As his lovers turned to stare at him in amazement, he added, "Little 
figures, and a code of some sort." In answer to the confused looks, he explained, 
"You know a code…top, middle and bottom?"

For a long moment there was absolute silence, as the two elves sat aghast, 
unbelieving of what they had heard. Then suddenly the elf-knight chortled 
delightedly, laughing until tears streamed. "Oh gods, ‘Dan," he gasped, "If you 
could have seen your face…and ‘Las, I thought you would keel over. Valar, that 
was funny. Bed calendar, hmm? It does have some promise…as a joke," he 
added hastily as the others turned toward him with threatening glares. 

Shaking his head, Elladan said, "Someday, ‘Roh, you are going to go too far. You 
know that, do you not?"

"Aye," Legolas agreed. "And then we shall have to punish you, rohir nín."
"A fate I eagerly look forward to," Elrohir retorted with a smirk, causing the others 
to grin in spite of themselves. "But right now, I am famished, and thirsty, and I 
see food and wine on the table. Shall we wash and eat?"

*******************************************

The three princes were washed, clad in leggings, and busy eating when a knock 
sounded at the door. Glancing quickly around the room to see that all was more 
or less in order, Legolas walked to the door. "Who is there, please?" he asked 
politely, his hand on the bolt.

"’Tis Ada, Legolas," the king replied. "Barangolas and Galueth are with me. Your 
sister would like to meet our guests, and is loath to wait until dinner. May we 
come in for a moment?"

At the mention of his sister’s insistence, Legolas snickered softly, a sound that 
was echoed on the other side of the door by his younger brother. With a glance 
at the twins, who shrugged and nodded, he threw the bolt back, opening the 
door. "We are not fully dressed, Ada," the prince said, as his father’s eyes 
traveled briefly over his bare chest, but we are decent. We will be down shortly if 
you prefer Galueth not come in just now."

"Galueth has seen you shirtless before, ionen. I do not imagine it will traumatize 
her now. And I will be most thankful to hear the end of her begging," Thranduil 
replied with a smile, pushing the door open wider and ushering his daughter into 
the room. 

Barangolas followed, beaming annoyingly at his elder brother. "How are you, 
tôren? Good afternoon, Elladan…Elrohir," the copper-haired elf offered with a 
grin. "I hope you are well rested?"

"Aye, we are quite well," Elrohir returned with an equally large grin, his grey eyes 
sparkling. "And yourself?"

"There is little to complain about,’ Barangolas said, stepping back to allow his 
sister’s approach. "Mind your manners, pen neth," he admonished quietly, 
earning a glare from the elleth.

Staring in ill-concealed wonder at the identical faces before her, Galueth 
promptly disregarded her brother’s warning. Legolas smiled slightly at her 
amazement, then drew her closer. "Galueth, these are my best friends, Elladan 
and Elrohir. Their adar, Lord Elrond, rules in Imladris." 

"How do you do, híren?" Galueth said politely, as she had been taught. Then as 
the twins bowed their heads in greeting, the elfling blurted out, "You are both very 
pretty. How do you tell them apart, Golas?"

"Just now Elladan has a braid, and Elrohir does not," the prince explained, 
forcing back a chuckle. "Usually Elladan will have blue beads in his braids, and 
Elrohir will have mithril beads in his. You need not fear confusing them, thêl 
dithen."

Looking intently at the twins, Galueth suddenly fastened her attention on Elladan, 
stepping closer to the elder twin. "What is that on your neck?" she asked bluntly, 
pointing at the deep purple stain below one ear.

A snort burst from Barangolas, drawing a stern glance from a suddenly nervous 
Thranduil. "Galueth," he began, "’Tis not polite…"

"’Tis alright, híren," Elladan broke in reassuringly. "’Tis only a bruise, pen neth. 
Have you ever fallen, and marked your knee?" When the elfling nodded, he went 
on, "This is a bruise, much like one you might have on your knee or elbow after a 
fall."

"Ada can make it better," Galueth said kindly. "He always makes mine better. 
And he has sweets…"

"And just now he is ready to return to the courtyard," Thranduil broke in firmly. 
"We will see you all at dinner. And Legolas?"

"Aye, Ada?" the prince said expectantly.

"’Twould be best, I believe, if you wore only side braids," the king answered 
sternly. "All of you."

********************

A/N: Galueth is the elf-equivalent of a 5 or 6 year old child.

Elvish Translations:
el nín - my star
anor nín - my sun
melethen - my love
rohir nín - my knight
ernilen - my prince
Melin chen - I love you
Melim chen - We love you
Ada, Adar - Dad, Father
tôren - my brother
ionen - my son
pen neth - young one
elleth - female elf
híren - my lord(s)
thêl dithen - little sister



Chapter 6

"’Las, ‘tis not necessary to do this," Elrohir said gently, his gaze roving over his 
twin and the prince warily. "You told us ‘twas not the way of Mirkwood to make 
such a display. We do not wish to discomfit anyone, least of all yourself. Or 
Thranduil."

"I know ‘tis not necessary, rohir nín. And I am full aware of what I said in the 
valley," Legolas replied. Looking at Elladan intently, the prince continued, "Do 
you remember your answer, el nín?"

"Aye," the elder twin nodded. "I said you are ours, and we are yours. And that I 
would have that made abundantly clear to everyone, in all the realms."

"’Tis what we are doing tonight, mellynen, and I will brook no more argument," 
the woodland prince insisted. "I will not have my lovers perused like candy in a 
sweet shop, and there are many here who would do just that, if my claim is not 
clearly made."

"You do not trust us, anor nín ? I am crushed," Elrohir teased with a grin. "What 
must we do to prove ourselves?"

Legolas ran a finger over the younger twin’s mouth, eyes twinkling. "I am certain 
we will find some way for you to prove your loyalty, ‘Roh," he said with a smirk. 
"Later." 

His face becoming serious, the prince implored, "Trust me, please. I will not 
offend Ada with inappropriate conduct, I promise. ‘Twill likely seem no more than 
friendly attention to you. But we will be noticed, and our relationship noted."
"And likely remarked on," Elladan added soberly. "Silence from Anteruon is an 
unlikely blessing, I wager."

"Aye, ‘tis unlikely, indeed," the elf-knight agreed. "’Twould be most impolite to 
brawl with the crown prince at Thranduil’s table, ‘Las. Are you sure this is 
advisable?"

"I am," Legolas answered simply. "We are far past majority, and have Ada’s 
support. ‘Tis not necessary for my brother to concern himself, and I will tell him 
so. Forcefully, if need be." 

Slipping an arm around each of his lovers, the prince pulled them toward the 
door. "Come on, ‘Dan…’Roh," he urged with a grin. "’Tis time for wine…and 
probably fireworks."

*******************************

A wave of astounded silence rushed over the courtyard, reaching Thranduil just 
as the trio arrived at the bottom of the curving stairway. Turning expectantly, the 
king stood frozen for a long moment, eyes riveted on his son, and the elves who 
flanked him.

Though they wore black leggings, the Peredhil twins were dressed in the formal 
manner common in Mirkwood, their emerald green tunics worn alone, without 
shirts underneath. Wide collars of mithril adorned with three tokens, one of which 
was certainly an oak leaf, lay at their throats. Hair black and glossy as obsidian 
hung nearly to their waists, held back by simple warrior's braids, Elladan’s dotted 
with intensely blue beads of lapis lazuli, Elrohir’s with frosty mithril ovals.
Framed by such exotic darkness, Legolas seemed aglow in his garb of soft leaf 
green, his tunic open at the neck to reveal a silky blue layer underneath, the now-
familiar mithril cuff spiraling up his forearm. As the prince turned his head to 
speak to one of his companions, Thranduil saw with a jolt that his son’s woven 
braids were sprinkled with blue and mithril, the beads flashing like gems in the 
pale gold hair.

The trio paid no heed to the effect their entrance had on the courtyard, smiling 
politely as they made their way past the frankly staring elves to the king’s side. 
As the princes moved through the crowd, the silence behind them was swallowed 
up by the murmur of many incredulous voices and the hiss of excited whispers. 

Torn between amusement and annoyance, Thranduil shook his head at the trio. 
"’Twas your idea, I presume, ionen?" he asked, one golden eyebrow raised. "You 
all look very fine, though ‘tis not much short of the announcement you deemed 
unnecessary."

"Aye, ‘twas indeed my idea, Ada," Legolas admitted freely. "It seemed a good 
way of making my point, without the impropriety you so feared." Grinning, the 
prince said, "Besides, ‘tis quite a lot of fun."

"I can see how that might be so, pen neth," the king said with a chuckle. Looking 
closely at the mithril collars adorning the twin’s necks, he turned to Legolas with 
a mock frown. "So this is where the clasps of your tunic got to, hmm? May I see 
one, please?"

Removing his collar, Elladan passed it willingly to Thranduil. "They are mirror 
images, híren. Alike except for the positioning of the tokens."

The woodland king took the unexpectedly light neckpiece, studying the 
ornaments carefully. The golden oak leaf, flanked by the six-pointed Imladrian 
star and the horse-head, made as clear a statement as Legolas’ cuff. The tokens 
of Imladris and Mirkwood were blended exquisitely in each case.

"’Tis beautiful, indeed," Thranduil offered with a smile. Ignoring Elladan’s 
extended hand, the king carefully replaced the collar around the elder twin’s 
neck, pulling the dark hair free. Turning to include Elrohir in his gaze, he said 
quietly, "I do not pretend to understand, but I have long been fond of both of you, 
and I would have my son happy."

"As would we, your majesty," Elrohir answered, meeting the king’s eyes steadily. 
"And we are most grateful for your acceptance."

"Aye, we are," Elladan agreed, his intense silver gaze fastened on Thranduil. 
"And we will not betray your trust."

"That promise has been made and broken before, has it not?" the crown prince 
remarked caustically, joining the group. "Though I know not what trust there is to 
betray now."

"Mae govannen, Anteruon," Elladan said easily, repressing a sigh. "And there is 
much you do not know, I would wager. May we not dispense with the verbal 
sparring this night, ernilen?"

"I know enough regarding the Noldor to satisfy me, Elrondion," the eldest 
woodland prince replied archly. "And I do not wish to be addressed so familiarly. I 
am not your prince."

"A fact for which I thank the Valar daily, Anteruon," the eldest twin retorted, 
unfazed. "’Twas intended as a courtesy, nothing more."

"Courtesy is a subject in which you might take a lesson, ionen," Thranduil broke 
in with a frown. "’Twould serve you well to follow Elladan’s example. A ruler 
cannot always choose his company on personal whim."

Flushing slightly, the crown prince snapped, "’Tis a bit more than personal whim, 
Adar. As I said, I know enough of the Noldor to satisfy me."

"Aye, and I know enough of wood-elves to satisfy me, also," Elrohir said with a 
grin, "Is that not so, ‘Las?"

"Indeed, it is," Legolas answered, eyes twinkling. "I have always found you to be 
quite satisfied with wood-elf." Turning to Anteruon, he asked, "But what Noldo 
have you found so satisfying, tôren, hmm? ‘Tis a story I have not heard."

"Legolas," Thranduil began warningly, raising a hand as the crown prince began 
to splutter, his face purple with rage. "That is quite enough, ionen…"

"’Tis more than enough, Adar," Anteruon snarled, his hands curling into fists. 
"Look at him! Tarted up like a toy to be passed between their beds! ‘Twas not 
insult enough that he deserted his own realm to whore for them in Imladris...he 
had to bring their depraved games here, for all of Mirkwood to witness." 

Thranduil stood aghast as his eldest raved as though possessed, bitterly cursing 
both his brother and the Peredhil visitors. Casting a look around the king found 
that they had become the center of attention for those elves who had not yet 
went to the eating pavilion. 

His anger blinding him to both the ominous quiet that had fallen over the trio and 
the menacing step forward Elladan and Elrohir had taken, the crown prince 
continued to rant, "A Prince of the Realm, bedding these cursed Noldo-born 
mistakes of the Valar! And then to speak to me…to ME…in such a way…"

The Peredhil twins were somewhat restrained by being in a foreign realm, 
observed by its king. Legolas was free of the first constraint, and disregarded the 
second. With a single fluid movement he pushed Anteruon backward and to the 
ground, heedless of the gasps of the onlookers. Straddling his brother’s chest he 
grabbed the dark gold hair and pulled, stretching the terrified prince’s neck.
To Thranduil’s horror, he realized that Legolas held a small but deadly boot-knife 
in his hand. "Please, ionen…" he whispered, "please…" 

Oblivious to his father’s distress, the second-born prince drew his blade lightly 
over the other’s throat, leaving a faint red line. "I should cut your throat like the 
beast you are," Legolas hissed, face white with fury. "’Tis no matter to me, 
*muindor*, what you think of my life and choices. But you have once again turned 
your long tongue and little wit on people and things that are very dear to me." 
His voice becoming dangerously calm, he demanded, "I warned you before, did I 
not Anteruon? You dare call my lovers mistakes? You, who have done little more 
in your life than whine, criticize and dream of the throne?" His lips curling in a 
feral grin, Legolas asked, "What would you do now, ernilen, to save yourself from 
my knife, hmm? Is there anyone or anything you would not betray to save your 
benighted neck?"

**‘Las, ‘tis enough, anor nín. You have scared him enough.**

**I do not wish to scare him, el nín. I wish to watch him bleed.**

**Please, melethen, he is unworthy of your anger.**

**I will not allow him to speak so of you, ‘Roh.**

**‘Tis alright. We pay him no heed. Please, anor nín. Put away the blade.**

Aware of the eerie silence, Thranduil started to take a step toward his sons, only 
to be stopped by a hand on his arm. Turning to look at Elrohir in surprise, he saw 
that both silver-grey gazes were locked imploringly on Legolas. **‘They are 
mindspeaking,’** he realized with a start, then stood still.

**‘Las? Answer me, anor nín. You are frightening your adar, also.**

"Very well, ‘Dan…’Roh," the second prince said, seemingly answering no one. 
‘For your sake." Slipping the knife back into his boot, he smiled coldly at his still 
trembling brother. "Do not make the mistake a third time, tôr einior," he advised 
with chilling softness. "And do not forget whose pleas saved you."

Rising slowly, Legolas walked back to Thranduil, his face grim. A quick glance 
passed between the twins, and they moved to assist Anteruon. The crown prince 
scowled, and started to knock away the extended hands. Feeling his brother’s 
gaze, he thought better of it, and accepted the offered aid.

Seeing the episode ended in an apparently friendly fashion, the few other elves 
lingering in the courtyard returned to their own conversations, encouraged by an 
imperiously raised eyebrow from the king.

Thranduil’s face was a rigid mask as he turned to Legolas and Anteruon. "I hope 
we shall never suffer a repeat of this episode, yn nín." Drawing a deep breath he 
turned to the second-born prince, his face grave. "’Tis unconscionable to draw a 
weapon on another ellon, Legolas, save in direct self-defense. And the penalty 
for kinslaying, we will not discuss. I grant you your anger, ionen. But do not ever 
put me in such a place again. Do I make my meaning clear?"

"Aye, Ada," the still fuming prince replied shortly.

"Then we will speak no more of it tonight," Thranduil acknowledged grimly. 
Focusing his attention on his eldest son, the king said, "And once again your 
quick tongue and lagging thought have brought you near disaster. Elladan and 
Elrohir are welcome guests in my realm, and you, as my heir and my subject will 
treat them with at least minimal courtesy."

"The Noldo deserve little more than minimal courtesy," Anteruon returned coldly, 
then wilted somewhat under his father’s exasperated frown. 

"‘Tis folly to hold the perceived mistakes of the past against an entire group of 
elves in the present, pen neth," the king answered firmly. "Once again I am 
forced to remind you that *I* was there. *You* were not." 

Sighing, Thranduil shook his head, his eyes becoming distant in memory. "’Twas 
a tumultuous time, filled with miscommunication, and useless spite and envy 
among those who were called allies. And Oropher fell…as did Ereinion Gil-galad, 
and Elendil. We had the victory, younglings, but ‘twas a bitter triumph." 

His emerald eyes regaining their sharp focus, the king looked pointedly at 
Anteruon. "And there was no leader without fault, and none totally to blame. I will 
hear no more tonight. Do I make myself understood?"

"Aye, híren ," the crown prince replied grudgingly, casting a dark look at the 
twins. "Perfectly understood."

"Then ‘tis time to turn our attention to dining," Thranduil said heavily. "Come, the 
table is ready."

*************************

Elvish Translations:
el nín - my star
rohir nín - my knight
anor nín - my sun
mellynen - my friends
ionen - my son
pen neth - young one
híren - my lord
Mae govannen - well met
ernilen - my prince
tôren - my brother
ellyn - male elves
muindor - brother
melethen - my love
tôr einior - elder brother
yn nín - my sons
ellon - male elf



Chapter 7

A varied spread of fruits, nuts, wild greens and many savory breads greeted the 
diners. Venison was the only meat served- in fact, the only meat common at any 
meal in Mirkwood, due to the lack of clean game animals in the forest. Most other 
food-flesh was garnered in trade with the men of the Esgaroth, and was thus 
scarce.

The atmosphere at Thranduil’s table was stilted, if not overtly unpleasant. 
Anteruon spoke only when spoken to, much to the relief of the king. To the 
surprise of all, Elrohir would not allow the crown prince to withdraw completely, 
including him in the discussions politely but firmly. 

Barangolas quietly declared the trio’s appearance a stroke of genius and 
Legolas’ prediction was proven correct by the second course…every elf present 
had observed and made assumptions about the relationship between their prince 
and the Peredhil twins. 

Most speculated, individually or in whispered conversation, regarding *which* of 
the dark visitors was the prince’s lover…and vowed not to find out by an ill-
advised approach. A few astute ellyn grasped the full significance of the display, 
broad grins slowly spreading across their awe-struck countenances.

Elladan and Elrohir were entranced by the lovely, yet informal setting of the meal. 
As usual in all but the most extreme weather, the wood-elves dined this night 
under a simple shelter of living branches, from which hung a multitude of softly 
glowing jar-lamps.

Galueth, long accustomed to dining in the pavilion, was far more entranced by 
the visiting twins. Ignoring Thranduil’s frown, the elfling left her own chair and 
slipped confidently into Legolas’ lap, where she was clearly quite at home. 
Eating quietly, she studied her brother’s beaded braids for several moments 
without comment, then wiped her hands and face politely before hopping down. 
Rather than returning to her own seat, Galueth turned to the elder twin, laying a 
hand lightly on his arm in a bid for notice. "Lord El’dan?" she said, waiting 
expectantly.

Elladan bit back a chuckle, answering with equal gravity. "Aye, my Lady? How 
may I be of service?"

"Might I sit with you for a moment?" the princess asked solemnly. "Golas says I 
am quite light."

Ignoring his brother’s snicker - as well as Thranduil’s expressively arched 
eyebrow - the elder twin smiled, settling Galueth on his knee. "You may, indeed. 
And ‘tis not necessary to call me ‘Lord', pen neth. ‘El’dan’ will be fine."
The elleth nodded happily, fixing her gaze on Elladan’s ebony braids. "Golas is 
wearing your beads, too," she announced astutely. "But he also has silver ones, 
like Lord El’hir. They look very pretty together."

"Aye, they do. But I wear blue, and Elrohir mithril, so you can tell us apart. 
Legolas can wear both, because he has no twin to cause confusion," the dark elf 
explained easily, toying with one silken mahogany plait.

Galueth reached up and pulled one braid over Elladan’s shoulder, examining it 
closely. "Your beads are a very pretty color, El’dan," she said wistfully, her eyes 
wide. "Blue like the sky."

Risking a glance at Thranduil, the elder twin found the long-suffering father 
shaking his head in resignation. The king answered the questioning arch of one 
ebony eyebrow with a slight shrug, a smile playing on his lips.

"Blue like your eyes, my Lady," Elladan corrected with a smile, "Which is a 
beautiful color, indeed. Would you like to have a few beads for your braids? I 
think ‘twould be alright to have two on each side."

"Aye, I would like that," Galueth answered, as Elladan untied one braid and 
slipped off four of the luminous lapis lazuli beads, placing them in the beaming 
elfling’s hand. Looking at the elder twin expectantly, she said, "Will you fix them 
for me?"

"I am not sure I can manage your braids, pen neth," he replied, tying off his own 
hair before looking carefully at the elaborately woven tresses. "Mayhap Legolas 
will aid you, hmm?"

"But I want mine to be like yours, " the princess insisted, touching the ink-dark 
strands admiringly. "Please?"

"Mine are warrior’s braids," Elladan began, "’Tis hardly proper…"
Thranduil broke in with a sigh. "Very little about my daughter is proper, ernilen. If 
she has her mind set on wearing Imladrian warrior’s braids tonight, you may as 
well humor her. ‘Twill be easier on us all."

Unbinding Galueth’s side-braids, the elder twin quickly created the simple four-
strand plaits, weaving two blue beads into each braid. Delighted with her new 
ornaments, the elleth hugged Elladan tightly before jumping down. 

The dark elf chuckled, casting a grin at Legolas, only to find the archer looking at 
him soberly. The solemn glance was quickly replaced by a smile, though it 
seemed to stop short of the troubled blue-green eyes. Reaching out impulsively, 
Elladan tucked a golden braid behind the prince’s ear, allowing his fingers to 
caress the sensitive tip, sending a thought to accompany the touch.

**Melin chen, anor nín. Always.**

With complete disregard for propriety, Legolas interlaced his fingers with those of 
the elder twin, pulling the reaching hand down to rest on his own leg. His eyes 
less clouded, the prince turned his attention to Galueth, who seemingly had not 
yet finished for the evening.

After showing her new beads to Thranduil, she moved purposefully to the other 
side of Legolas, turning a glowing smile on the elf-knight. "Lord El’hir?" she piped 
brightly. "I have no twin, either."

*********************************

"Elladan? Elrohir? I would speak with you both for a moment," Thranduil said 
quietly as they left the dining pavilion, following a short distance behind the 
others. "I will not take much of your time."

"Our time is yours, híren," the elder twin replied, inclining his head with a smile. "I 
do not fear that you will waste it."

"Walk with me then," the king replied. "’Tis a fine evening." Strolling slowly 
around the outer edge of the courtyard, he led them to a private area, then 
stopped, turning to face his guests. "I would like to apologize for Anteruon’s 
behavior. ‘Twas outside all bounds, and I am grateful for your restraint."

"’Tis alright, híren," Elrohir began, "We…"

"Nay, ernilen, ‘tis not alright," Thranduil broke in firmly. "And though there is 
naught that will excuse his manner, I would not have you believe he learned such 
attitudes at my knee. But ‘twas my mistake, none the less. Anteruon spent much 
of his youth with my old tutor, who was, of course, a close friend of Adar."

Elladan nodded understandingly. "And probably a witness to his end."

"Aye, he was," the king agreed. "And the stern yet compassionate man I 
remembered had been twisted bitterly by Adar’s fall, and all that accompanied 
it…and his influence has left a dark imprint on my son that I have been unable to 
remove. I did not make the same mistake again, hence the conflict between my 
eldest son and his brothers is fierce at times." Smiling ruefully, he added, "And 
Anteruon inherited most of Oropher’s arrogance, while Legolas was cursed with 
much of his temper."

Elrohir looked intently at Thranduil, a smile playing on his lips. "And what of 
yourself, Majesty?"

Chuckling, the king retorted, "I was blessed with both arrogance and temper, pen 
neth, but I was cured of them long ago." Laying a hand on the elf-knight’s arm, he 
said, "I would thank you for your efforts at dinner, also. ‘Twas kind of you to 
include Anteruon in the merriment, when he had just cursed you and your 
ancestors."

The younger twin shook his head slightly. "I was partly to blame, híren. ‘Twas my 
ill-advised remark that set everyone off, I fear. I want reining at times, or so I 
have been told."

Thranduil snorted in a most unkingly manner. "No doubt ‘twas my son who told 
you so, hmm? I would also apologize for his behavior, but I wager you are 
somewhat accustomed to it, after all these centuries."
 
Breaking into a broad grin, the king finished, "Speaking of Legolas, we had best 
return you to his side, ere he comes searching. He has been quite unusually 
patient already. And I have no wish to have his knife at my throat, even in 
thought."

Barangolas and Legolas stood at the center fountain, deep in conversation with 
another ellon when the three elves stepped into view. Waving merrily, the 
youngest prince beckoned the others to join them. 

"I shall leave you with my offspring," Thranduil announced with a smile. "I would 
wager that plans have been made…likely plans of which I wish to remain 
blissfully unaware. I bid you good evening, and pleasant dreams." Raising a hand 
in salute to his sons, the king turned for his own chambers.

Legolas smiled, holding out a hand to each of his lovers. "I thought mayhap Ada 
had captured you for the evening, and I should have to manage a rescue." 
Indicating his brother, he went on, "Barangolas has invited us to join them at the 
pools."

The younger prince grinned broadly, laying a hand on the arm of his other 
companion. "Elladan… Elrohir, this is my friend and captain, Lindel. Lind, as you 
may have guessed, these are the much maligned Peredhil twins. Elladan wears 
blue beads, Elrohir mithril."

"Mae govannen, Lord Elladan, Lord Elrohir," the red-haired elf answered 
formally, inclining his head respectfully. 

"Mae govannen, Lindel," Elladan returned with a smile. "And if you will refrain 
from calling me ‘lord’, I will not call you ‘captain’, agreed? Elrohir and I have no 
love of formality."

"Indeed we do not, " Elrohir added. "’Tis a pleasure to meet you, Lindel. You 
seem quite familiar, somehow. Have we been together in the past?"

Legolas grinned, shaking his head. "I would guess not, ‘Roh. But Lindel is 
Tiriadon’s brother, and there is considerable likeness."

"Aye, we are alike, though Tiri would groan to hear it said," Lindel chuckled. 
"Please do join us. ‘Twill be quite pleasant in the caverns this evening, and the 
gathering small."

"We would enjoy that greatly, if ‘Las agrees?" Elrohir replied casting a 
questioning glance at the golden prince. 

"Aye, we will go for a while, " Legolas said with a smile. "But I would like to 
change to easier garb. We will meet you there, hmm?"

*********************************

"You once told us that you had better judgement than to bed the captain of your 
guard," Elrohir said to Legolas with a grin, as they walked toward the cavern 
entrance. "I take it Barangolas does not?"

The prince snorted rudely. "Nay, he does not. Though no harm has come of it so 
far, I concede. Lindel is a good captain, and a stout friend, and Barangolas is 
very fond of him. Whether there is more to it than friendly lust, I do not know."

"’Tis not an overly large step from friendly lust to love, though," Elladan observed 
thoughtfully. "Mayhap your brother will take it. But he is quite young."

"He is a bit less than four-hundred years my junior, ‘Dan," Legolas retorted, one 
golden eyebrow arched in amusement. "And hardly an innocent, by any standards. 
‘Less you consider yourself a cradle-robber as well?"

"The thought does cross my mind occasionally, anor nín, " the elder twin 
admitted, seemingly serious. At the prince’s surprised glance, he grinned. "Then I 
remember your ‘midnight snack’ in Imladris, and my conscience ceases to 
trouble me. ‘Twas no elfling who woke me that night, was it, ‘Roh?"

Elrohir smirked at the memory. "’Twas not, el nín. Though he seemed quite 
innocent in slumber afterward, did he not? And blushed very sweetly the next 
morn…just as he is now."

"’Tis enough of that," Legolas said warningly, his face burning. "Behave 
yourselves, or I will turn this crowd loose on you."
"So you *are* taking us to be oogled like candy in a sweet shop, hmm?" Elladan 
teased, eyes twinkling. "I suspected as much."

"I am," the prince admitted freely, with a dazzling smile. "But I will be there no 
see that there is no unauthorized tasting."

"I assume Anteruon will not be present?" Elrohir queried as they reached the 
caverns’ mouth.

Legolas snickered quietly. "Nay, ‘tis hardly his type of gathering. He usually 
returns Galueth to her chambers after dinner, and then is off on his own 
adventures, though I have heard it said he has a fondness for my sister’s nanny. 
He is not altogether offensive at times, so who…"

The prince’s voice dropped off as they passed through the arched opening into 
the dimly lit caves.

A large central room was hung with rows of clothing hooks, and several benches 
were placed around the space, creating a convenient place to undress. A large 
rack of towels hung on each wall, allowing the patrons to cover themselves after 
stripping.

Tossing towels to his companions, Legolas quickly shed his light leggings and 
shirt, tying a towel loosely around his waist. "Ready for your unveiling?" he asked 
with a grin, placing a possessive hand on each of his lovers. "Barangolas and 
Lindel will be in the smallest room."

Leading the way into one of the many chambers that opened off the main room, 
the prince quickly located his younger brother, lounging in a pool at the back of 
the area. "Rinse of the dust, tôren, and join us," Barangolas called with a wave, "I 
have glasses for you."

"He has glasses for us?" Elladan asked curiously, dropping his towel before 
moving under the water streaming from a rinsing trough. "Dare I ask why?"

Chuckling, Legolas dried his face, then answered, "For mead. Barangolas and 
Lindel always supply mead for such gatherings, as Lind’s ada brews it to sell. We 
were really supposed to bring our own goblets if we wished to drink- but tôr nín 
can usually be counted on to bring a few extra."

The prince slid into the large pool, urging the twins down on either side of him. 
They were greeted warmly by Lindel and Barangolas, and introduced to the other 
four elves who shared the pool. Wooden torches flickered around the edge of the 
room, lending a warm glow to the steaming water. The water was soothingly 
heated in contrast to the pleasant coolness of the underground cavern, the 
company was enjoyable, and the mead was found to be of excellent quality. 

Relaxed and comfortable, Elrohir closed his eyes with a sigh, leaning back lazily 
in the chest- deep water. His eyes flew open in amazement a short while later, as 
teasing fingers slid first over his stomach, then dropped to his thighs, drawing 
slow circles that moved closer and closer to his quickly developing erection. 
Turning his head to stare in disbelief at Legolas, he found himself caught in a 
sparkling emerald green gaze. The younger twin grasped the exploring hand 
firmly, and appealed to the suddenly predatory elf beside him.

**’Las, what are you doing?**

**I would have thought that rather obvious, rohir nín.**

**We are in Taur-na-Fuin, in a public bath, with your brother, for the love of 
Elbereth! You are drunk, anor nín.** 

The prince smile sweetly, pulling the restraining hand over to rest on his own 
raging arousal. 

**Mayhap, but not to the point of dysfunction, hmm?**

Glancing around the pool, the elf-knight found that only Barangolas and Lindel 
remained, curled around one another in a way that left them little room to 
complain of Legolas’ behavior. Relaxing somewhat, Elrohir leaned over and 
whispered softly, "’Twould be much more comfortable in your chambers, 
melethen. And the night has but begun."

The prince’s smile broadened as he turned his head to nuzzle the younger twin’s 
throat gently. "Aye, but this night will be no shorter for beginning it here," he 
retorted teasingly, lifting his hips to rub against the captive hand.

Elrohir drew a deep breath, looking imploringly at his twin. Elladan arched both 
eyebrows helplessly, his straining arms evidence of his own struggle with a 
wandering hand. "’Las," the elder twin began in quiet desperation, "Do you not 
think ‘tis unwise…"

The entreaty was interrupted by a poorly muffled moan and gasping breaths from 
across the pool, which drew an audible snort from Legolas, as well as astounded 
glances - quickly replaced by brilliant smirks - from the dark elves. 

Several moments passed in silence, broken only by an occasional hiss or 
smothered chuckle, before Barangolas and Lindel rose from the pool. Smiling 
composedly at the entangled trio, the youngest prince said, "I hope your first 
night in Taur-na-Fuin is pleasant, mellynen. We will bid you good evening now." 
Flickering his emerald green glance between the twins, Barangolas added, "This 
pool is quite private, and others seldom come here in the evening, as it is known 
to be the site of our gatherings. Do not hesitate to make yourselves at home."

Nodding silently in farewell, Elladan and Elrohir watched the two elves leave with 
ill-concealed amusement. The elder twin returned his attention to the prince, who 
was now grinning widely. "I thought you said there would be no tasting, 
melethen," the dark elf said teasingly, lavishly licking an ear tip. "Any excuses?"

"Nay, ‘Dan," Legolas retorted, his face determinedly solemn despite his 
shudders. "’Twas *unauthorized*  tasting that I vowed to prevent. This is fully 
authorized. And quite enjoyable."

"Indeed?" Elrohir smirked, rubbing his palm lightly over the prince’s turgid length. 
"And what else might you find enjoyable, ernilen, hmm?"

Hissing in pleasure, Legolas arched toward the stroking hand, digging his fingers 
into the elf-knight’s arm. "I would enjoy my favorite twin benefit," the prince 
purred, lifting himself to sit on the edge of the pool. "Two mouths. On me."

Elladan raised one ebony eyebrow in teasing reproach, his darkened grey eyes 
sparkling. "’Las! So demanding, anor nín. And where would you have those 
mouths?"

"Everywhere," Legolas breathed, tugging impatiently on both dark heads. "Come 
up here. Now."

Raising themselves from the pool, the twins stretched out fluidly beside their 
golden prince, tongues moving in wicked unison as they licked, nuzzled and 
nipped the ivory body into a state of excruciating pleasure.

**************************************

Thranduil removed his leggings slowly, only partially aware of his surroundings. 
His distress over the evening’s conflict only slightly resolved, his mind was awash 
with thoughts of disaster averted, and issues still raging. **‘What if Legolas had 
lost control? What if the Peredhil twins had erupted at the insults? What shall I do 
with my bull-headed eldest son? Will he ever be fit to rule?’**

Wrapping himself in a towel, he headed absently for a private pool, wishing to be 
alone with his thoughts, though he had been unable to bear the confines of his 
chambers. Moving instinctively through the seemingly empty caverns, his mind 
occupied, the king took several steps into the smallest room before becoming 
aware of his error.

Thranduil did not mean to intrude. He did not mean to stare. The functioning part 
of his mind screamed **‘Move, for Elbereth’s sake. Leave. Now!’** His body, 
however, refused to obey. Caught in the same trance which often caused 
soldiers to stare at the carnage of a battle ended, he gaped in amazement at the 
scene playing out before him.

Legolas lay stretched on the floor of the chamber, his unbound hair shimmering 
like gold in the torchlight. His ivory body was liberally covered with rosy purple 
marks, visible even in the dim light of the cavern, his fingers laced firmly in the 
silken ebony locks that streamed over his writhing form. 

One dark head moved languidly from one pierced nipple to the other, teeth 
tugging sharply, to be followed by a tongue lapping soothingly at the over-
sensitive peaks. Another was visible between the tensed ivory thighs, moving 
rhythmically below the strong forearm that anchored the prince’s hips.

Thranduil stood rooted, unable to tear his eyes away as Legolas tossed his head 
mindlessly, whimpering moans and unintelligible pleas increasing steadily. **‘You 
must not see this! This is your son!’,**  the coherent part of his brain screamed in 
a last desperate plea, and his body finally stirred to answer, allowing a silent step 
of retreat…but it was too late.

With a keening cry the prince arched into a perfect bow, shuddering in an 
obviously brain-fogging release that left him limp and breathless. As both ebony 
heads moved up to nuzzle the flushed face, one pair of midnight-dark eyes 
locked on the slowly retreating king, meeting the wide emerald gaze in 
recognition. Thranduil stopped dead, recognizing the futility of flight.
Dropping his head to the crook of Legolas’ neck, Elrohir was unsure whether to 
laugh or scream.

Deciding to take a conservative approach, he whispered, "’Las, we have 
company."

Still bemused after his explosive climax, the prince turned his head to press a 
lingering kiss to the elf-knight’s mouth. "Company?" he repeated docilely, "What 
sort of company?"

Elladan glanced up sharply as the whispered entreaty reached him, allowing the 
ear he had been nibbling to slide from his mouth in disbelief. "The difficult sort, 
anor nín. ‘Tis your adar, lest I am caught in a nightmare."

Focus returned with admirable swiftness to the widened blue-green eyes. "Ada is 
here? In this room?"

As the twins nodded mutely, Legolas closed his eyes for a long moment. Sitting 
up gracefully, he reached for a towel, tossing the others to his companions. "’Tis 
an unanticipated visit, Ada," the prince said in a triumph of understatement. 

"’Twas an unanticipated sight, ionen," Thranduil managed, rubbing his hand 
wearily over his eyes. "And I have suddenly lost my urge to bathe."

"We are quite finished here, híren ," Elrohir interjected. "We will leave you in 
peace."

The king turned his intense emerald gaze on the elf-knight, then on Elladan. "It 
appears to me, pen neth, that you are rather less than half-way finished. But I 
would advise that you reconvene in a more secluded area. Such as your 
chambers."

Raising one eyebrow in a veritable whirlwind of unspoken comment, Thranduil 
added, "I will speak with you tomorrow. All of you. In my study. After breakfast." 
Walking away, the king looked back and added, "Pleasant dreams."

*****************************

Elvish Translations:
ellyn - male elves
pen neth - young one
ernilen - my prince
elleth - female elf
Melin chen - I love you
anor nín - my sun
híren - my lord
ellon - male elf
Mae govannen - well met
el nín - my star
tôren, tôr nín - my brother
rohir nín - my knight
Taur-na-Fuin - Mirkwood (wood of nightshade)
melethen - my love
mellynen - my friends
Ada, Adar - dad, father
ionen - my son


Chapter 8

The second-born prince’s bed-chamber was rife with a volatile mixture of 
grudgingly suspended lust and restless apprehension. Despite his calm 
demeanor in the caverns, Legolas himself was obviously distressed, pacing the 
room like a caged beast.

Elrohir threw himself across the bed heavily, his head hanging, ebony hair 
brushing the floor. "What will he do, ‘Las?" the elf-knight asked musingly. 
"’Twould seem we are not to be banished, or surely he would not have sent us up 
here."

"How should I know what he will do?" the woodland prince retorted sharply, 
casting an annoyed glance at the younger twin. "’Tis a new experience for Ada, 
thankfully. And for me, also." 

"Whereas we often couple in the caverns of Taur-na-Fuin?" Elladan interjected, 
one elegant eyebrow lifted wryly. "Pull in your claws, anor nín. ‘Twill solve 
nothing to shred ‘Roh alive."

"’Tis no profit in idle questions, either," Legolas flung back bitingly, aware he was 
being unreasonable, but unable to stop. "Mayhap he is granting you a last 
tumble, and will banish you come the morn."

The elder twin’s eyes narrowed ominously. "’Twould seem you do not think that 
such a bad thing, from your tone."

"’Tis all you ever agreed to, is it not, Elladan?" Legolas snapped. "Your quick 
tumble has gone awry, and here…"

"Your temper has robbed you of your reason, ‘Las," the elf-knight interrupted 
mildly. "We did not…"

"No,*‘we’* did not, ‘Roh," the prince returned, the façade he had carefully 
constructed since dinner - supported by copious amounts of wine and mead - 
beginning to crumble under the strain of the evening. "’Twas *you*, and ‘Dan was 
merely dragged along…" Legolas’ voice trailed off as he turned tear-filled blue-
green eyes to look at the gaping elder twin, then strode quickly onto the balcony, 
pushing the door closed with a thud. 

"What in the name of Elbereth was that in aid of?" Elrohir asked in astonishment, 
his brow furrowed as he turned to his equally confused brother.

Meeting his twin’s eyes, Elladan shook his head helplessly. "I have no notion, 
rohir nín," he replied soberly. "But I intend to find out."

The dark elf moved to the balcony door, only to find it held closed from the other 
side. "Open the door, ‘Las," he ordered quietly, then waited, receiving no 
response from outside. 

Still speaking quietly, the elder twin said, "I know you can hear me, anor nín. You 
are an elf, after all." No answer was forthcoming, so he added more insistently, 
"If you do not loose the door Legolas, I swear I will cut it through. Will you not at 
least tell me what I have done?"

There was a long pause, during which Elladan reached reluctantly for his sword, 
then suddenly the door swung open under his hand. Breathing a sigh of relief, 
the dark elf stepped onto the balcony, closing the door once more. Looking 
around warily, he saw the woodland prince standing at the edge of the platform, 
staring up at the stars through the waving branches.

"’Tis a fearsome drop, ‘Las," the elder twin said lightly. "Do not stand too close."
"Wood-elves do not fall from trees, mellonen," Legolas answered without turning 
around. 

Forcing back a stab of pain at the casual ‘mellonen', Elladan replied softly, "But 
the less agile races may, and I would not choose to end our acquaintance in a 
heap at the foot of this tree. Sit down with me, please, anor nín. I do not know 
what I have done, but if you will tell me, I will do my best to make amends."

The prince turned clouded eyes on the dark elf, a sad smile gracing his face. "’Tis 
nothing you have done, el nín."

Somewhat encouraged by the endearment, Elladan sank to the floor, patting the 
space beside himself. "Here, ‘Las. I am tired, and still reeling from the caverns. 
Just sit down and tell me what this is all in aid of, so we can go to bed. Please."

Dropping reluctantly to the platform, Legolas leaned against the wall, resting his 
arms on his pulled up knees. Never turning to look at the elder twin, he said, 
"You told me once, in Imladris, that ‘Roh had talked you into bedding me."

"Aye," Elladan admitted cautiously, "he did. But I believe there was more to that 
conversation than you are quoting. I also said ‘twas the best idea he has had in 
two millennia."

"You did," the prince agreed. After a moment’s silence, he went on quietly. 
"Glorfindel told me that you and ‘Roh did occasionally take another lover." In 
answer to an interrogating eyebrow, he replied, "I asked him. Did you ever 
choose a maid, ‘Dan? As the third?"

"A few times, aye," the dark elf answered slowly. "’Las, I don’t…"

In an apparent change of subject, Legolas broke in swiftly, "Galueth was quite 
taken with you this evening at dinner. She can be overly determined."

"’Twas rather sweet," Elladan chuckled. "I did not mind."

"I could see that," the woodland prince nodded soberly, his gaze probing, eyes 
shimmering with unshed tears. "You appeared to enjoy yourself a great deal. And 
you were quite good with her."

Turning the full force of his silvery gaze on Legolas, the dark elf said, "I begin to 
see where this is going, unless you intend to accuse me of having inappropriate 
thoughts about an elfling."

"Nay, of course not!" the prince replied, obviously appalled. "’Tis that, well…I 
have only this night realized that you may have preferred an elleth as your third. 
‘Twould explain your reluctance to approach me, and I can understand, after 
seeing you with Galueth…’twould allow you to have elflings of your own, ‘Dan, 
and you looked so *right* sitting there cuddling her…"

"Listen to me, Legolas," Elladan interrupted firmly. "’Tis true that Elrohir first 
thought to approach you, and that I was unsure…" As the golden prince opened 
his mouth to speak, it was gently covered by a strong hand. "Be quiet, anor nín, 
and listen," the dark elf repeated, lowering his hand as the other nodded.
"But my unease was not because I did not desire you, ‘twas because I feared you 
would not understand our twin-bond, and I did not wish to risk our friendship. 
Valar’s wisdom, Legolas, think! Have you forgotten what passed between us this 
afternoon?" 

As the prince shook his head silently, Elladan went on earnestly, "‘Tis true that 
‘Roh and I have bedded the occasional elleth, together and apart, but our choice 
- *my* choice - was made long centuries past. You did not force me to settle for 
an ellon, ‘Las. You are the reward for a choice made long ago."

"But mayhap you did not think it out…" Legolas began slowly, his face still 
pensive, though there was a flicker of relief in his eyes.

Sighing deeply, Elladan said, "I am Peredhel, anor nín." With a rueful smile he 
added, "I have some small understanding of choices and consequences, hmm?"

The sparkle returning to his eyes, the woodland prince nodded slowly, "Aye, I 
suppose you do, at that." Suddenly sober once more, he continued, "I am sorry, 
el nín. You must think me foolish, to entertain such thoughts. But I was so afraid 
you had not chosen freely…"

Leaning over, Elladan pressed a soft kiss to the down-turned mouth. "Nay, you 
are far from foolish, ‘Las. But you do still think too much. And *I* think my sister 
and your brother will provide us all with elflings aplenty to cosset and spoil." 
Breaking into a grateful grin, he asked, " Now can we please go to bed?"

Rising gracefully from the platform, Legolas reached down a helping hand to the 
elder twin, pulling him easily to his feet. "Are you so very tired, ‘Dan?" he asked 
with a teasing smile, pulling the dark elf snugly against his body. Feeling 
intoxicated by sheer relief, he whispered, "’Twould be a shame to drift off too 
early."

"I think I may be convinced to remain awake," Elladan replied, burying his nose in 
the silky golden tresses, "with sufficient incentive."
"Then I shall see that you have it," the prince promised with a smirk, leading his 
lover back into the bed-chamber.

Elrohir sat up expectantly as the two elves entered the room, relief washing over 
him at the sight of their smiling faces. Legolas walked directly to the elf-knight, 
reaching out to stroke the inky-black locks. "I am sorry, rohir nín," he said. "I 
should not have snapped at you so. Forgive me, please."

"’Tis alright," the younger twin answered, clasping the prince’s hand. "I would 
wager you had much on your mind."

"Aye, I did," Legolas agreed, "But we will speak of it later. ‘Dan is very tired, it 
seems, and requires some enticement to stay alert."

"Does he, indeed?" the elf-knight smirked, glancing at his grinning brother. "And I 
suppose you are to provide this attention?"

"I thought you might aid me in that," the prince returned, smiling at the look of 
surprise that flickered across Elrohir’s features. "’Tis hardly fair that I should be 
the only one to enjoy twin benefits, do you think?"

"That would depend, anor nín," the younger twin replied, his expression serious. 
Legolas looked at him in confusion. "Depend on what, ‘Roh?"

Breaking into a dazzling grin, the elf-knight snickered, "On whether or not he will 
promise to stay awake long enough to return the favor."

************************************

Elladan tossed his head restlessly, pupils dilated hugely, his fingers grasping 
convulsively at the silken hair trailing teasingly over his chest and stomach. He 
had never known such sensation before, the pleasure so intense, so many-
layered, that it was nearly pain.

Though reason - long since fled - would have surely told him there could only be 
two mouths and four hands, his over-sensitized body twitched and arched as 
though beset by an army of tormentors. Far past comprehensible speech, he 
instead pleaded silently, his thoughts broken by moans and whimpers.
**Please, anor nín …I cannot…I need…**

Legolas raised his head slowly, running his tongue lightly up his lover’s weeping 
erection, tracing the throbbing vein before poking teasingly at the slit, lapping up 
the dripping fluid with a devious smile. "But of course you can, melethen," he 
purred, one hand slipping down to press gently against the puckered opening, as 
the other drew slow circles on Elladan’s twitching stomach. "’Tis naught but what 
you have done to me, many times over."

Elrohir let the mithril nipple ring slip from his mouth, his tongue and teeth tracing 
a wandering path