Title: Princes Three: The Beginning 

Author: Minuial Nuwing

Contact: minuial_nuwing@yahoo.com

Website:: First Light - http://geocities.com/minuial_nuwing

Rating: NC-17 overall

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, OEAM, LoM, Cipher; Others: I would be honored-Just 
let me know, please!

Summary: Elladan and Elrohir set their carnal sights on their friend Legolas during a 
celebration at Imladris...and things happen. 

Status: Complete (14 chapters + 3 interludes)

Authors' Notes: You will notice that my guys live in a perfect world - the sky is blue the 
grass is green, twincest is not only accepted but expected, and friendships come with 
benefits…we should all be so lucky!


Italics indicate mindspeak or thoughts, when not used for simple emphasis.  In plain text, 
stars indicate italics.  One for emphasis (*blah*), two for mindspeak or thoughts (**blah**).


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: The Beginning***


~Imladris 2150 III~ 


**Please, 'Dan, let me.**

The words snaked sinuously through his mind, even as a tongue curled teasingly 
around the point of his ear.

**You know you want to. Shall I tell you what I will do if our friend agrees?**

The tongue was replaced by lips and teeth, nipping and suckling the tender tip. 
A hand roamed lightly down his chest, stopping to tug gently on the small mithril ring 
that pierced his left nipple.

**Just imagine it, melethen. That glorious golden body sprawled on our bed, 
hmm? Gasping with pleasure from our touch? Pleasuring us with…**

Caught somewhere between a moan of pleasure and a sigh of resignation, Elladan 
gave up on his braids for the moment and leaned back into his tormentor's embrace. 
As he tilted his head to look into the silver-grey eyes that so mirrored his own, the 
unbraided strands ran like a river of ink over his shoulders and his lover’s chest.

Elrohir hissed softly at the brush of the silken hair on his bare skin, and wrapped his arms 
tightly around the elder twin’s waist, nuzzling his neck, basking in the feeling of 
completeness that came only with touching his soul’s mate. He smiled when he felt the 
other’s thoughts brush his mind.

**You are a wicked, wicked tease, tôren. And I would not have you change.**

Elladan sighed contentedly, then gently disengaged himself from his brother’s 
arms and turned to face his twin. Brushing Elrohir’s lips with a chaste kiss he 
said, "If you do not let me finish with my hair, ‘Roh, we will miss the both the feast 
and your opportunity." 

The younger twin raised an eyebrow skeptically. "My opportunity?" he asked in 
disbelief, emphasizing his brother’s use of the singular. "Are you suggesting 
there would be no pleasure for you in what I desire?"

Grinning cheekily, Elladan bent his head to his lover’s right nipple, lapping it with 
his tongue before seizing the mithril ring in his teeth and pulling gently. "Is there 
not always pleasure for me in what you desire?" he questioned teasingly, before 
capturing the elf-knight’s mouth in a slow, searching kiss.

Elrohir waited only a moment before slipping his arms around his twin once 
again, pressing their bodies tightly together, letting the heat of the kiss spiral 
upward uncontrolled, until the blaze seemed to free-fall suddenly into his groin, 
causing his shaft to stir insistently. With a muffled groan, he ended the kiss, and 
eyed his lover ruefully. 

"I thought there was need to finish your braids, tôren," he returned jokingly, but 
Elladan saw that the silvery eyes had darkened with passion, mirroring the 
arousal that coursed through his own body.

"I’ve changed my mind, melethron," the elder twin purred, nipping and suckling 
Elrohir’s neck. "Perchance there is time for some quick relief, hmm?" With that, 
he captured his lover’s mouth again, and slid his strong hands down to the 
younger twin’s buttocks, kneading the muscles forcefully while pulling their hips 
tightly together.

The elf-knight moaned with pleasure, and rocked his hips forward, grinding his 
already aching erection against that of his twin. "Oh, yes…yes…" Elladan 
growled low in his throat. Tangling one of his hands in his brother’s nearly waist-
length hair, he pulled Elrohir’s head back and sucked hard on his neck, marking 
him with a rosy-purple bruise just above his collarbone.

"Take off those hateful breeches, rohir nín, and come lie with me," he ordered 
silkily, unlacing his own leggings, "and I will make you scream."

Elrohir quickly complied, taking a shuddering breath when his hardened shaft 
was released into the cool air. He scarcely got both feet back on the floor before 
he was grabbed peremptorily, and found himself pinned to the bed by his lover, 
who immediately renewed his sensual onslaught. 

Raising himself on one elbow off the body captive beneath him, Elladan aligned 
their weeping erections and began to stroke them with one hand as best he 
could, mingling the leaking fluids, slicking both hard columns in a rapidly 
increasing rhythm that soon had both twins gasping for breath. Stopping 
suddenly, he slid down and took Elrohir’s pierced nipple in his mouth, suckling 
and tugging at the ring with his tongue, rolling the peaked left nipple between his 
fingers roughly.

"Oh valar, ‘Dan," the elf-knight moaned, "You will undo me now!"

His tormentor raised his head with a wicked grin, his lips gleaming, and purred, 
"That is the plan, melethen. We can still make the feast if we do not dally," then 
continued down his victim’s body, nibbling his way to his ultimate goal.

Elrohir raised himself to watch breathlessly as Elladan trailed kisses and nibbles 
across his flat abdomen, and onto his thighs, deliberately avoiding his turgid 
length. Feeling his brother’s gaze, the elder twin raised his head to meet the 
stare, and was almost undone himself by the sight.

The elf-knight was propped on his elbows, his dark hair pooling on the pillows, 
his fair face flushed with pleasure, the silvery eyes nearly black with passion. The 
pale, war-hardened body shimmered with a fine sheen of sweat. His arousal was 
rosy-hued, leaking clear drops of pre-cum enticingly. 

Elladan froze for a moment, overcome, before ever so gently lapping the head of 
his lover’s shaft. "You are so beautiful, ‘Roh," he said hoarsely, before teasing 
the head once more with his tongue, tenderly licking the weeping slit.

Elrohir was beyond coherent speech. Moans and incomprehensible pleas fell 
from his mouth as his twin continued to lick and nibble at his aching flesh, and he 
found that his elbows would no longer support him. "Elbereth..." he gasped 
brokenly, "finish it …"

Pushed almost beyond reason himself, Elladan wet his own forefinger with saliva 
and slid it into the other’s relaxed opening, expertly finding his lover’s prostate at 
the same instant he swallowed the turgid length and sucked hard, hollowing his 
cheeks.

"Ai! Oh gods!…" was all Elrohir strangled out before he came convulsively,
throwing back his head and howling *"’DAN!"* as he spilled himself deep inside 
his brother’s throat.

Elladan licked the softening length tenderly before sliding up beside a still-dazed 
Elrohir and kissing him gently, allowing his lover to share the smoky-sweet flavor 
of his own seed. "I promised to make you scream," he murmured into the other’s 
ear, nuzzling the tip with his nose.

Becoming somewhat more rational, Elrohir felt a familiar hardness pressed 
against his thigh, and smiled. "And how might I repay the favor, melethen?" he 
whispered, rolling on his side to pull Elladan close. "Shall I taste you or touch 
you, hmm, tôren?"

"Touch me," the elder twin answered hoarsely. "I ache, and I want to watch you 
touch me."

Elrohir captured his lover’s lips in a possessive kiss, then purred "Watch then, 
pen vain. Watch while I pleasure you." Running his hand over the pale muscular 
chest before him, the elf-knight heard a growl of frustration and quickly relented. 
"Forgive me, ‘Dan," he said softly, "I did not mean to tease." Taking the other’s 
throbbing length in a firm grip he began moving steadily, circling the weeping tip 
with his thumb every few strokes.

"Oh gods, ‘Roh, that feels so good…so good..." Elladan moaned breathlessly, 
thrusting his hips into the warm, slick hand. Looking down at the source of this 
pleasure, he was mesmerized by the play of pale fingers against his darkened, 
throbbing length, and reached down to run his own fingers over his brother’s 
wrist. 

Elrohir tightened his grip slightly, increasing his speed, and bent his head to 
suckle a pointed ear, then the pale throat, marking it with teeth and lips. "Do I 
please you, el nín ?" he breathed hotly into the sensitized ear. "Will you come for 
me? I can feel it, melethen. You are so close…so very close… "

Elladan was drawing his breath in great gasps, his eyes dilated past seeing, his 
head tossing restlessly on the scattered pillows. "Oh, ‘Roh…now…" he panted, 
"Sweet Elbereth…I am going to come…"

"So let go, tôren," the elf-knight purred wickedly, running his thumb over the 
weeping head, "Show me how much I please you." 

For a brief moment, there was absolute silence, as every muscle in Elladan’s 
body tightened, freezing him in mid-thrust. Then, with a feral, wordless growl he 
fell over the edge, spilling his shimmering white seed over Elrohir’s frantically 
pumping hand. When the spurts ended, and the growls dwindled to sobbing 
gasps, the younger twin clasped him in a tender embrace, whispering sweet 
words, holding on until his breathing calmed, and both their hearts stopped 
racing. 

When they were both quiet again, Elrohir got up and padded to the bathing 
chamber, returning with a small pail of warm, scented water which he used to 
wash away the leavings of their passion. This accomplished, he stretched out 
once more beside his lover, sighing with contentment.

"We really must get up, rohir nín, unless I am to attend the feast both unclothed 
and unbraided," Elladan teased after a while, standing and stretching lazily. "Up 
with you, sluggard!" he encouraged, pulling playfully at Elrohir’s hand. "A party 
awaits!"

The younger twin groaned theatrically before rising from the bed to retrieve his 
leggings. Noting that Elladan stood bare before the mirror, brushing his hair 
languidly, Elrohir tossed the second pair of breeches at his brother with a 
chuckle. 

"Cover yourself, tôren. My control has limits, and they have already been sorely 
tested this day."

Elladan snickered, but pulled on the snug leggings and laced them before 
speaking. "I would not wish to exhaust you too soon, ‘Roh," he drawled, pulling 
the elf-knight into his arms and kissing him soundly. "We have many hours to go 
in this day."

Elrohir arched one ebony eyebrow skyward in an unconscious imitation of 
Elrond, and retorted, "I mean it, ‘Dan. If you do not quit, I won’t be responsible for 
my actions, or the lateness of our arrival at table."

Elladan chuckled and moved away reluctantly. Taking the other’s hand, he led 
the way to the window seat that overlooked one of the glorious gardens of 
Imladris. "Come, help me with my braids," he said with a smile," and we will talk 
further of your obsession with Legolas." 

"I am not obsessed with our Greenleaf, ‘Dan," Elrohir retorted, as he began 
dividing his twin’s raven locks expertly, starting the four-strand side braids that 
were worn by warriors in Elrond’s service. Though the sons of Elrond were 
entitled to the more intricate braiding and knots of elven royalty, both preferred 
the more practical warrior’s style, or even a single thick plait down the back- a 
tradition of their mortal kin, rather than the Firstborn.

"Hold this a moment," the younger twin urged, placing the end of a half-done 
braid in his brother’s hand. "I need to get your beads." 

Elladan obediently tightened his fingers around the hair strands, waiting as 
Elrohir scooped some beads from one of the two bowls sitting on their dressing 
table. Small ovals of intensely blue lapis lazuli seemed to glow in the elf-knight’s 
hand. Even as the elder twin watched the beads being effortlessly woven into his 
own braids, his attention was caught by the frosty gleam of mithril in Elrohir’s 
locks.

As long as he could remember, ever since there had been hair on their heads to 
braid, the beads had been there, an easy way for others to tell the eerily identical 
twins apart. Lapis lazuli- blue for the Crown Prince, the heir to Imladris…to Vilya. 
Mithril for the Elf-Knight, the commander-to-be of the awesome Imladrian 
forces…the one fated to replace Glorfindel as seneschal of Imladris- but not until 
the ancient elves decided they had had enough of daily responsibility. That these 
positions were different but equal in importance was an accepted fact in the 
valley. Even now, Glorfindel called Elrond "Lord" only by choice- and only in 
company…

*"ELLADAN!" * The rare use of his given name, as well as the tone of the 
utterance, snapped Elladan’s attention firmly back to the present. Discovering 
that his braids were completed, he looked sheepishly at Elrohir and said "My 
apologies, melethen. I was pondering the place of beads in our lives."

The younger twin glared sternly, and sighed. "I understood that we would ponder 
the benefits of Legolas in our bed. Have you completely missed my arguments in 
favor of the attempt? I was most convincing, I must say."

"I’m sure the trial run will only help your case, tôren," Elladan chuckled. Then 
growing serious, he continued, "I do not wish to deny you, ‘Roh. I am just not 
certain how well Legolas would receive our attentions. He is still young, and quite 
protected. He likely has no knowledge of elven twins outside his friendship with 
us, and his time with us has been mostly in the wild, not in intimate surroundings. 
If ‘Las does not understand that we share one faer in two rhaiw, if he equates our 
bond with that he and his brothers share…well, he may be appalled by the idea."

Elrohir was shaking his head in denial before he began speaking. "He is past his 
first millennium, ‘Dan. He is an accomplished warrior, and he has traveled 
extensively for his adar. I agree that Thranduil’s library cannot compare to Ada’s, 
and mayhap ‘Las has not studied the mystery of twinning. But he is our friend, 
and has been for six centuries. He is neither blind nor stupid - he must know our 
bond is different from that of other siblings. If not, it is time that he did."

The elder twin looked closely at his soul’s half, allowing the intensity of Elrohir’s 
feelings, and his confidence in their friend’s acceptance to flow freely through the 
twin-bond. Struggling to mount a last doomed argument before acquiescing, he 
felt his brother brush his mind with a final plea.

**Please, tôren, melethen, el nín. Please.**

Touched by the soft endearments, Elladan sighed and bowed gracefully to the 
inevitable. "Of course, rohir nín, if it is of such importance to you. I ask only one 
concession."

Elrohir grinned, delighted with his victory. "What would that be, tôren? First 
choice of position?"

Elladan smirked briefly. "That, too, of course. What I meant, you fool of an elf, 
was that I do not wish to blatantly seduce him. If you believe this move is well 
timed, so be it, but let us approach him honestly. He is certainly acquainted with 
the idea that friends may share much pleasure. In that, Taur-na-Fuin’s ways are 
no different from those of Imladris or Lothlórien. We will see what transpires from 
there." 

"Agreed," the elf-knight acknowledged. "I do not seek to discomfit him, either, 
and a few plain words may help avoid much misunderstanding." Glancing 
through the open arches, he exclaimed, "But right now we must dress, tôren, 
unless we are to appear in the Hall in leggings alone. The time for celebration 
approaches."

The brothers moved quickly to complete their preparations. Choosing to avoid 
formal robes, they slipped instead into under-blouses and dress tunics. This style 
covered them to mid-thigh, but was less cumbersome than the floor length robes 
preferred by many for dress. Both wore the soft black leather leggings which they 
preferred to velvet, even for formal occasions. Elrohir chose a deep burgundy 
tunic with his silver-grey under-shirt, while Elladan wore royal blue under his 
dark-grey velvet covering. Low boots of black leather completed both outfits.

Glancing in the mirror with well-deserved satisfaction, Elladan grinned at his twin 
and teased, "I find us a bit more than passing fair tonight, ‘Roh. Legolas may find 
himself with some competition for our favors, if he chooses to play."

Elrohir grinned in return, then caught his lover’s chin and looked at him intently. "I 
always find you more than passing fair, el nín," he whispered, before claiming the 
other’s lips in a gentle kiss.

As he pulled away reluctantly, he felt Elladan caress his thoughts.

**And I you, rohir nín.**

"Come," Elrohir said cheerfully. "Let us join the company."



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


Elvish translations: 

melethen- my love
melethron- beloved or lover
rohir nín - my knight
el nín - my star
tôren- my brother
pen vain - beautiful one
faer - soul, spirit
rhaiw - bodies, flesh (plural)
Taur-na-Fuin - Mirkwood (wood of nightshade) 
Ada, Adar — papa, father


 
Chapter 2

The Hall of Fire was ablaze early this night, as it was Elrond’s practice to have 
his guests gather there for wine and conversation before dinner on feast days. 
The Lord of Imladris himself stood by the great fire, wineglass in hand, speaking 
with Glorfindel and the visiting Prince of Mirkwood, son of his friend Thranduil.

"How fares Taur-na-Fuin, Legolas?" Elrond asked curiously. "It has been many 
years since I visited the Wood."

"We fare well enough, Lord Elrond," the woodland prince answered, sipping his 
wine slowly. "Since Mithrandir entered Dol Guldur, and the dark one fled, the 
wood is more peaceful and wholesome than it has been in my time, but Adar still 
feels the darkness. The forest has not returned to its old brightness, as it was 
before the Necromancer came."

"I fear that we shall not be wholly free of the shadow for many years to come," 
Elrond agreed. "We have peace now, but it is a brooding, cautious peace." 
The Peredhel lord sighed heavily, a look of weariness on his agelessly fair face. 
Like his sons, he was ebony-haired and grey-eyed, and though he now more 
often wielded a quill than a sword, his luminous pale skin still covered the 
hardened body of a warrior. 

Rolling his shoulders underneath his burgundy and gold formal robes, Lord 
Elrond shook off his momentary soberness and said, "But that is enough council 
chamber talk for tonight. This evening is for merriment and pleasure."

"Aye, that is correct, meldir," Glorfindel interjected, "and you need distraction as 
much as any here." The seneschal threw back a large drink of his wine, then 
looked at his friend sternly. "And I will see that you take your ease, híren, if I have 
to bind you in this Hall after the feasting!"

Legolas grinned at the expression of mock affront on the Imladrian lord’s face, 
then twinkled at Glorfindel, who was having a difficult time hiding his mirth. The 
balrog-slayer’s sapphire blue eyes were glowing with amusement. His waist-
length wavy golden hair — by which he had been pulled to his first death, if the 
tales be true — hung unbraided down his back, kept from his face by small gold 
clasps on each side. He wore a midnight-blue dress tunic and leggings, both of 
velvet, with an under-blouse of shimmering gold, and black leather boots. 

Glorfindel was breathtaking, and like many young warriors before and many to 
follow, Legolas was completely captivated. So captivated, in fact, that he missed 
the entrance of his friends into the Hall, giving them a moment to study him 
appreciatively.

**Look at him, ‘Dan. He is absolutely magnificent.**

**Aye, tôren. That he is.**

The Prince of Mirkwood stood by the fire, the red-gold light flickering across his 
fair features. His ivory skin glowed in the firelight. His pale gold hair hung like 
sunlit silk to the small of his back, held back from high cheekbones by the tiny 
woven braids of Mirkwood royalty. He wore the lighter formal wear of his realm- 
soft brown leather leggings, a sage-green silk dress tunic embroidered with a 
pattern of leaves at the hem, and low brown suede boots.

Striding rapidly across the room, Elrohir stopped behind Legolas, and spoke 
softly in his ear. "We would like a word, gwadoren, if you can drag your eyes from 
Ada’s lieutenant for a moment."

Legolas quickly sat down his glass, then spun on his heel, clasping the elf-knight 
in a firm embrace, kissing him on each cheek in the manner traditional between 
close friends. "Elrohir, mellonen! Where were you hiding? I have been in the Hall 
for some time now."

Elrohir smirked, and answered, "We had some difficulties in dressing, ‘Las, and 
were delayed somewhat." 

Glorfindel’s golden eyebrows shot up in suspicion, as he knew the twins and their 
"difficulties" quite well. Those suspicions were confirmed a moment later when 
Elladan joined them, the shimmering length of his hair not quite obscuring the 
fresh love bite just behind one ear.

Glancing at Elrond to see if he had understood the situation, the Balrog-slayer 
was forced to stifle a chuckle, as the always-correct Lord of Imladris rolled his 
eyes in resignation, then allowed his glance to flicker repeatedly from the older 
twin to the younger. 

Curious, Glorfindel followed the gaze, then snorted quietly when he saw what 
had drawn Elrond’s attention. In embracing Legolas, Elrohir had allowed his 
clothing to shift somewhat, and a perfectly oval bruise was visible at the base of 
his neck.

Raising one eyebrow, Elrond reached over and tugged his youngest son’s tunic 
back into place. "Let us remain dressed, ionen," he said, struggling to hold back 
the smile that threatened to ruin his image as a stern father. "The reputation of 
Imladris has suffered enough at your hands, without taking leave of your clothing 
in a filled hall." 

Elrohir, still holding the prince by the forearms, chuckled and grinned at his 
friend. The blue-green eyes were shot with gold, and glowing with pleasure. To 
the elf-knight, those eyes were like a forest stream, bubbling with life and mirth, 
and he wanted to drown in them, watch them dilate with need…

"’Roh. ‘Roh!" Elladan said with some amusement. "I would like to greet ‘Las, also, 
tôren."

Unfazed, the younger twin released the archer’s arms. "Very well, ‘Dan. He is all 
yours."

**For the moment, that is el nín.** 

**We will share later, hmm? There appears to be plenty here for the both of 
us…**

"You are doing it again," Legolas accused with mock severity. "’Tis not polite to 
mindspeak in company."

Laughing, Elladan pulled the Mirkwood prince into a warm embrace. "Mae 
govannen, gwadoren. We have missed you," he said softly, kissing his friend 
once on each cheek. 

"I have missed you also, gwadoren. I have looked forward to this celebration for 
many moons. Mayhap we will have time to indulge ourselves in each other’s 
company these weeks," Legolas replied, squeezing Elladan’s forearms 
affectionately. "But tell me, where are the Ladies of Imladris? I was glad to see 
the Lady Arwen earlier this season in Lorien, but I have not met your Nana in 
many years."

Smiling, Elrohir replied, "Our sister is still lingering in Lorien with her current 
Galadhrim, and Nana thought some extra supervision might be in order during 
the weeks of merriment before winter. Arwen needs watching at times."

Elladan shook his head in agreement. "She oft runs quite wild. ‘Tis not fitting for 
an elleth to behave so."

A sudden burst of laughter caused the princes to turn, and they found Erestor 
grinning broadly, his sharp features surprisingly soft as he surveyed the twins. "Is 
that not the river saying the rain is damp, gwanûn? The pair of you naming 
another ‘wild’?"

Chuckling good-naturedly, Elrohir said "Aye, Erestor, you are right. ‘Dan and I 
had best not throw stones." Looking the chief-advisor over carefully, he grinned. 
"You are looking especially well tonight, mellonen. Glorfindel had best keep his 
eyes open, lest he lose you."

Erestor flushed softly, pleased. His usual black robes had been replaced by dark 
plum velvet drapings, which bought out the purple in his deep indigo eyes. His 
blue-black hair fell in elaborate braids to the swell of his buttocks, and mithril clips 
finished the ends.

Glorfindel smirked cheerfully at the elf-knight, placing an arm possessively 
around his lover’s waist. "You are neither big enough nor experienced enough to 
oust me, pen neth. And I can still stripe your hide if you make the attempt."

Elrohir threw his hands up in feigned protest. "You wound me, Glorfindel! I was 
merely trying to help you look out for what is yours."

"Guard your own bed, ernilen, and I will keep watch over mine," the golden elder 
retorted with a wicked smile, "and I would add that you should be more careful 
with your teeth." Turning to Legolas, he smiled and said, "Forgive us, mellon 
vain. Such jesting is perhaps best done without witnesses."

Elladan, who had been watching Legolas closely during the exchange, noted with 
some amusement that his friend was more flustered by such a compliment from 
one of Glorfindel’s radiance than he had been by the conversation. Regaining his 
composure quickly, the Mirkwood prince smiled and replied, "Think nothing of it, 
híren. I have brothers, and uncles, also. I have given and taken worse."

Just as Legolas finished speaking, the chimes calling the household to dinner 
rang out in the Hall. Elrond placed his empty glass on a table, and started to the 
formal dining hall, followed by his family and guests.

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

The dining hall was aglow. Light from candles bunched on the tables was aided 
by the flickering light from the massive fireplace at the end of the chamber. 
Elrond’s table sat at the head of the room, and it was here that the lords and 
ladies of the household, as well as ranking guests were served. Legolas found 
himself on Elrond’s right, beside Elrohir. Across the table was Elladan, then 
Glorfindel and Erestor. The rest of the noble household found their usual seats, 
and the feasting began.

Though Elrond always sat a fine table, this night began the feasting of Lasse-
lanta, and therefore the offerings were unusually fine. Meat, breads, fruits and 
greens of every type competed for the diners’ attention. The finest wines and 
juices were poured and consumed, and much mirth and song rang out around 
the room.

Quite at home beside Elrohir, Legolas laughed and talked with both the twins and 
the elder elves around him. After the meal was finished, more wine was passed, 
and the guests began slipping away in small groups toward the Hall of Fire, to 
continue the merrymaking. 

During a lull in the conversation, the golden prince took a sip of wine, only to find 
Elladan looking at him intently. "’Dan…what is amiss, gwadoren?" he asked 
concernedly. "Are you well?"

Elladan shook his head sharply, as if to clear it, and answered, "Aye, I am fine, 
‘Las." After a short pause, he continued, "But I fear I have had enough food for 
several meals. I think I will take a stroll, to hasten it down." Making his excuses, 
he felt Elrohir brush his mind anxiously.

**What is it, el nín? Shall I come with you?** 

**Nay, ‘Roh, I am fine. I am going to freshen our rooms, and make some 
preparations. Invite him up for a visit, hmm? I will take a fresh bottle of miruvor 
back with me.**

Elrohir grinned broadly, twinkling at his twin. 

**Very well planned, melethen. I will give you a quarter-hour.** 

Legolas eyed the elf-knight curiously. "What was that all in aid of, ‘Roh?" he 
asked quietly. "Elladan seemed quite discomfited by something. Have I broken a 
social code of Imladris unaware?"

"Nay, ‘tis nothing you have done, ‘Las," Elrohir replied, regarding his friend 
affectionately. "We selfishly hope to snare you for a private visit after feasting, but 
we left our chambers in a disarray earlier. "’Dan will take his walk by the cellars, 
then straighten up a bit. If you are willing to forego the Hall to join us, that is?"

Beaming, Legolas answered, "I can think of nothing that would please me more, 
mellonen."

Elrohir smiled and said, "Let us go, then." Turning to Elrond, he continued, "If you 
will excuse us, Ada? We will go find ‘Dan and catch up on all our lives."

The Lord of Imladris chuckled and replied "Aye, ionen, go ahead. Just do not 
overdo. I have no wish to see three wine-sick younglings in the Healing House 
tomorrow."

As the two princes left the hall together, Glorfindel leaned over and addressed 
Elrond quietly. "The gwanûn are up to something, meldir. I can smell it in the air."

The Peredhel lord agreed with a sigh. "Aye, they are, and I fear to ask. I am more 
content not knowing." Rising gracefully, he continued, "Come, let us adjourn to 
the Hall."

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


Elvish Translations: 

Taur-na-Fuin - Mirkwood (wood of nightshade)
Ada, Adar- papa, Father 
meldir- male friend
peredhel- half-elven
tôren - my brother
mellonen- my friend
gwadoren- my sworn brother
Mae govannen - Well met 
ionen- my son
elleth - female elf
pen neth - young one
ernilen- my prince
gwanûn- twins
mellon vain- beautiful friend
híren- my lord
el nín - my star
Lasse-lanta- literally "leaf fall", the season of autumn
melethen- my love


Chapter 3


Elrohir and Legolas walked slowly through the halls, watching the cheerful bustle 
of servants running to and fro, preparing chambers for overnight guests as well 
as serving those in the Hall of Fire.

"I like this place," Legolas said with a grin. "There is always something to see."

The younger twin smiled at his friend. "That is nearly too true, gwadoren. Oft 
‘Dan and I head for the wilds to get a little peace." Breaking into a huge grin, he 
continued, " But here we are at the rooms of the infamous Peredhil twins. Shall 
we see if my brother has made the place presentable yet?"

Laughing with his friend, the Mirkwood prince answered, "By all means. I have 
yet to see these dreaded chambers, you know."

With a theatrical bow, Elrohir opened the door and motioned Legolas inside. The 
door opened into a large den, which was awash in the light given off by a rough-
hewn fireplace on the far wall. Pillows and furs were piled in front of the fire, and 
comfortable chairs were drawn up near the luxurious heap of fabric. A table off to 
the side held a basket of fruit, a pitcher of cream, and other necessities, including 
several bottles- one of which immediately took Legolas’ attention.

"Aha!" he cried delightedly. Hefting the dark blue bottle experimentally, he asked, 
"Am I deceived, or is this an unopened bottle of miruvor, that cordial of the Valar 
your father brews? If that is the case, I find both your hospitality and your 
chambers flawless, mellonen."

"’Tis our pleasure to serve you, híren," an amused voice drawled, before Elrohir 
could answer.

Turning toward the sound, Legolas found himself momentarily speechless. 
Elladan stood in the doorway to the bed chamber. He had removed his boots and 
tunic, and was in the act of removing his under-tunic. Every muscle in his well-
toned torso seemed to ripple as he carelessly pulled the silky garment over his 
head, before tossing it at the basket near the door to the bathing chamber.

Legolas thought it one of the most sensual things he had ever seen.

Elrohir bit back a groan and let his thoughts fly.

**Take it easy, melethen. Remember I am here, also. And I need no 
persuasion.**

"Am I so horrible to look at that you are both struck dumb?" Elladan teased. 
"Come, strip off your formal rags and relax. I will pour the miruvor."

Recovering his wits, Legolas grinned at the elder twin and said, "For miruvor, I 
will endure your state of dress, gwadoren, and even join you." Kicking off his 
boots, he slipped his tunic off and tossed it over a chair before accepting a glass 
of the cordial of Imladris.

In the process of removing his own upper garments, Elrohir stopped and stared. 
The Mirkwood prince looked like carved ivory in the firelight. Though not quite as 
heavily muscled as the twins, he was of a height with them, and had the 
smoothly sculpted shape of a master archer. Broad shoulders tapered to a 
narrow waist, and his flat stomach disappeared temptingly into the snug leather 
leggings just below his navel.

Elladan handed his twin a glass of miruvor with a smirk, and turned to Legolas, 
who was eyeing him with a grin. "I am glad I amuse you, ‘Las. What do you find 
worth such a smile?" 

" I was remembering the night you got this, gwadoren," he answered, lightly 
touching the mithril nipple ring that glimmered on the elder twin’s chest. "I think it 
rich that the Princes of Imladris were persuaded by drink and dare to take part in 
a barbaric Taur-na-Fuin tradition- even if you only had stomach enough for one," 
he teased, indicating the pair of gold rings that graced his own nipples.

Elrohir raised his eyebrows in a parody of insult. "You well know, wood-elf, that 
such was not the case. You explained the symbolism behind the rings, even if 
you were nearly too drunk to talk. Left ring for first love, you told us, and right for 
first kill. We took a vote, and decided that since we were twins, we only needed 
one of each."

Legolas was not impressed. "Aye, we took a vote. There were two of you, and 
only one of me. How else could it have turned out, eh, gwadoren?"

Elladan broke in with a chuckle. "Enough already! We are sorry you have not a 
twin, ‘Las, but we won fair up." Turning to Elrohir, he went on. "And you, tôren , 
whined like a maid the next day." Grinning, he mimicked, "It hurts! It hurts!"

The woodland prince snorted, then reached out and tugged gently on Elrohir’s 
mithril ring. "'Tis not painful now, is it, ‘Roh?"

Elrohir looked at him in disbelief for a moment, as the sharp tingles of sensation 
caused by moving the ring ran through his body, then he grinned evilly. "No 
‘Las," he replied sweetly, twisting both the golden rings at once, "it does not hurt 
at all."

Legolas shuddered visibly for several seconds, then managed to return the grin. 
"Even now?" he queried.

"Aye, we are," the elf-knight answered. "Come sit by the fire and tell us of things 
in the Wood." Throwing himself down on the cushions, he patted a place beside. 
"These pillows are the best seats in the house," he said with a smile.

Elladan grabbed the bottle of miruvor and flopped down beside Legolas, topping 
off all the glasses before placing the bottle carefully on the floor beside the 
hearth. Assured of its safety, he turned to the others, and they began to talk of 
things both old and new.

Some time later, Elladan discovered that the miruvor was nearly gone, and the 
elves responsible, himself included, were nearly giddy. Elrohir sat with his legs 
stretched out straight, back propped against an overstuffed chair. Legolas lay 
sprawled on his back on the pillows, his golden braids long since undone, the 
unbound length of his hair shining in the firelight. Elladan scooted over to his twin 
and said, "Help me undo my braids, tôren, then I will help you with yours." 

Elrohir began removing braids and beads, then looked at Elladan questioningly, 
and received a slight nod in answer. Clearing his throat, he asked, "What do you 
know regarding elven twins, ‘Las?"

Legolas turned to his side, propping himself up on one elbow. "I know there have 
only been four pair recorded in all the history of elvendom- Amras and Amrod, 
Elured and Elurin, Elrond and Elros, and current company," he began, as though 
quoting a history lesson. 

"I have been told that you share one faer born into two rhaiw, and the resulting 
bond allows you to mindspeak freely, without the need to learn the art. I was also 
taught that when your uncle chose to be mortal, a part of his faer was returned to 
your father, so that he would not grieve and pass to The Halls of Mandos on 
Elros’ death."

Turning slightly, so he could remove Elrohir’s braids, Elladan nodded 
encouragingly at the woodland prince. He was pleased with the knowledge the 
other displayed. Mayhap their friend could be made to understand their 
relationship…

Legolas broke into his thoughts, a teasing smile on his face. "Of course, I know 
the two of you rut like rabbits at every opportunity."

For a split second there was absolute silence, and the prince wondered if he had 
put his thoughts too crudely, but then the silence was shattered by a delighted 
chortle from Elrohir. Elladan still sat as if in shock, his mouth half open. 

"You are drooling, tôren," the elf-knight teased gently, and the elder twin closed 
his mouth, then tried twice to express his thoughts before giving up. "Your move, 
rohir nín ," he said with a smile, "But first, I could use another drink. I am 
suddenly frustratingly sober."

While Elladan poured miruvor for all, Elrohir looked at Legolas curiously. "Where 
did you hear this, mellonen? It is quite true, and we do not go out of our way to 
hide our bond, but it is not common conversation fodder outside Imladris."

"Rúmil told me," he answered, as if that explained everything. "Actually, he asked 
me if I knew whether or not it was true, and I was unable to relieve his mind. 
Rúmil rather fancies either of you," he continued with a smirk.

"Rúmil told you?’ Elladan asked incredulously. "Why did Rúmil tell you? And who 
told him?"

"Pillow talk," Legolas admitted sheepishly. "Rúmil rather fancies me, too, if he 
cannot have one of you. Actually, Haldir told him, claiming first hand knowledge, 
as I understand it."

Elrohir raised an eyebrow and grinned, "Aye, he has his knowledge. As much as 
he could stand, if I remember correctly."

Legolas looked at the elf-knight quickly, a question forming in his eyes, but 
Elladan interrupted his thoughts suddenly. "And it does not disturb you, ernilen? 
That we are brothers, and also lovers?"

The woodland prince shook his head slowly. "It was rather a relief, when Rúmil 
told me, actually."

Both twins looked at him in shock. "A relief?" they chorused.

"Aye," he answered easily. "Never in six centuries has either of you tried to bed 
me. It was a little unsettling. I had to accept that you simply did not find me fair."

Elrohir shook with laughter, and the elder twin asked with a smirk, " A little 
conceited, are we, ‘Las?"

"Nay, not conceited," the golden prince replied in good humor. "Just happy with 
my lot in life."

"Legolas," Elrohir said suddenly, "What if we do find you fair? Very fair?"

"I would be pleased, of course, but I do not quite understand…" the woodland 
prince began.

"You have not really thought it through, gwadoren," Elladan interrupted gently. 
"We are one faer...our bond is into one soul, not between two. There is room in 
our lives and hearts for others."

Suddenly Legolas *did* understand, and he sat up and looked at the twins in 
amazement. "Sweet Eru, that is what Haldir was speaking of, is it not? The both 
of you together- with him, at the same time?"

Even as the questions tumbled out, images came unbidden to his mind- 
disconcerting images, that made his breathing quicken, and his cheeks flush, and 
his tongue cease working. "And you want to…you mean…both…me…you…"

Elladan and Elrohir nodded encouragingly at the poorly developed, yet 
essentially correct question, and the golden prince suddenly found his tongue 
again. "Now *I* need a drink," he said seriously, handing his glass to Elladan. "A 
big one."

The elder twin drained the bottle of miruvor in the offered glass, and handed it 
back to Legolas, who threw his head back and half-emptied the glass in one 
draught. Elrohir reached over and touched his arm lightly. "We would like very 
much to have you lie with us, mellonen, but it is alright if you would prefer not, if 
you do not wish to…"

"If I do not wish to?’ Legolas broke in incredulously. "How could I not wish to? 
Valar’s light, just look at the two of you! One would be more than enough, but 
both…of course I wish to! " Taking another gulp of his miruvor, he continued 
more calmly, "But I have never been with two…"

Elladan took the glass from his hand, and sat it on the hearth, then scooted up to 
sit at the woodland prince’s side. "Never mind, pen vain," he breathed against the 
perfectly pointed ear, teasing the tip with his tongue. "We will teach you 
everything we know."

"Aye, that we will," Elrohir purred into the other ear, nipping and suckling the 
delicate skin behind. "We want nothing but to please you, ‘Las."

Legolas took a shuddering breath, and looked from one pair of glowing silver-
grey eyes to the other. "I think I need another drink," he said unsteadily. 

"You are thinking too much," Elladan said cheerfully. "What you need is a back 
rub." Spreading his legs wide, he patted the floor in front of himself. "Come here, 
and we will relieve some of that tension."

Reluctantly moving to sit before the elder twin, Legolas watched Elrohir enter the 
bathing chamber and return with a small bottle of oil. Sitting down in front of the 
Mirkwood prince, the elf-knight moved the mass of golden hair over a shoulder 
and expertly braided it in a thick plait. With the hair taken care of, he pulled the 
stopper from the bottle and poured a generous amount of oil into Elladan’s 
outstretched hands, before dribbling a little onto his own fingers.

With one hand, he gently stroked up the pale throat, gently forcing Legolas to 
meet his eyes. "Look at me, mellonen," he ordered quietly. Legolas looked up 
uncertainly, and was rendered nearly breathless by what he saw. The darkened 
eyes were filled with warmth, as well as lust. Hair black as ebony glimmered in 
the firelight, spilling over the pale shoulders and down the well-muscled chest. 
Vaguely aware that Elladan was rubbing his tension-filled shoulders, the 
woodland prince felt himself begin to relax.

"If you do not want this, say so," Elrohir continued, lightly running his oiled finger 
over the ivory-skinned throat, then down the chest. "I would not damage our 
friendship by taking advantage." He smiled broadly. "I promise I will survive the 
rejection."

Legolas shook his head. "As if anyone sane would reject you..." Reaching up to 
tuck an inky strand of hair behind Elrohir’s ear, he smiled and said, "My mind is 
working overtime on the mechanics, however."

Elladan chuckled softly. "Let it go, gwadoren," he advised. "As I said, you think 
too much." Pulling Legolas gently but inexorably back against his own body, he 
slid his oiled hands across the firm chest, lightly brushing the golden rings.

A hissing gasp escaped from the prince, and Elrohir murmured approvingly, 
"That is right, pen vain. Just feel." Moving closer, he brushed his lips lightly 
across the high cheekbones before taking the full lower lip between his teeth, 
nipping and licking it teasingly, then moving to the rosy upper lip to continue the 
torture.

Legolas inhaled sharply, reaching up to tangle his fingers in the dark hair. 
"Enough play, Peredhel," he growled, before capturing Elrohir’s mouth in a fierce 
kiss. For what seemed an eternity the two warriors vied for control of the kiss, 
tongues clashing, teeth clinking…

Elladan breathed, "Sweet Elbereth…yes..." as he bent his head to suckle the 
back of the ivory neck, reflexively pressing his hips forward against the golden 
prince’s buttocks. Sliding his hands down the flat stomach to the snugly laced 
leggings, he emitted an audible groan when his fingers encountered the hard 
curve of the archer’s desire.

Legolas moaned into Elrohir’s mouth, arching his back, thrusting his hips toward 
the searching fingers. He nipped sharply at the younger twin’s lip, earning a 
groan, followed by a softly murmured, "I yield, ernilen."

The woodland prince shivered, his blue-green eyes darkening further, now 
gleaming like emeralds against his pale skin. "Do you, mellonen?", he asked 
hoarsely. Elrohir smiled slightly, nodding. "Then take those off," Legolas purred 
wickedly, tugging at the elf-knight’s breeches, "For I would see my prize."

As Elrohir stood to tug off his leggings, Elladan pulled sharply on the golden 
braid, loosing the down-soft hair. "And what of my prize, gwadoren?" he 
whispered, playing indolently with the stretched lacings of the soft brown 
breeches. "Will you be my golden trophy this night?"

Legolas let out a whimper at the image that flashed through his mind, and turning 
his head to meet Elladan’s dark gaze gasped out "Oh, gods, yes…", before his 
mouth was taken in a slow, sensual kiss. Breaking the kiss reluctantly, the elder 
twin murmured, "I would see my prize, also," as he unlaced the prince’s leggings. 
"Remove these, pen vain."

"And what of your covering, el nín ?" Elrohir asked with a smirk, kneeling to 
unlace his twin’s leggings. "Will you remain clothed while we are bare? Strip 
these off, and come lie on the furs, hmm?"

Elladan reached out and pulled the elf-knight close, kissing him soundly. Legolas 
let out a startled gasp, and both twins turned toward him warily. "Is something 
wrong, mellonen?" Elrohir asked gently, as Elladan stood to take off his leggings.

The Mirkwood prince shook his head and swallowed hard. "Nay, nothing is 
amiss. I just…you…that was the most erotic kiss I have ever seen."

Elladan lowered himself gracefully to the floor and held his out his hand. "Come 
here then, ‘Las, and we will share it with you."

Legolas looked at the pair sprawled on the hearth-furs, and was unable to 
suppress a groan. Both twins were stretched wantonly in front of the fire, and 
without the gleaming mithril rings, he felt he might not be able to tell them apart. 
Their ebony hair trailed on the furs like black silk, and the silver-grey eyes were 
nearly black with desire. They were marble pale all over, save for the rosy purple 
of their engorged arousals.

Taking a steadying breath, Legolas dropped fluidly to the floor, allowing himself 
to be pulled down to lie between the others. Propping up on their elbows, the 
twins looked him over carefully. Golden hair spilled like sunlight over his 
shoulders, to pool on the floor. The pale ivory skin was slightly flushed with 
arousal, and the now-deep-green eyes flashed gold in the flickering light. The 
peachy nipples with their gold rings were peaked, and his throbbing length lay 
against his flat abdomen.

"You are beautiful, mellonen," Elrohir breathed reverently, pressing a soft kiss to 
the swollen lips. Elladan leaned down and touched his mouth to the other two, 
flicking his tongue over the welcoming lips, then into the warm wetness. Legolas 
moaned helplessly at the new sensation, rocking his hips in a vain search for 
friction.

Pulling back from the kiss, Elladan nibbled his way down to the peaked nipples, 
then took the left one in his mouth, suckling and pulling on the piercing ring with 
his tongue.

Legolas hissed loudly, and was rewarded by a second mouth on the right side. 
Unable to bite back a moan, he panted, "Valar, wait…I cannot stand it!"

Elladan nibbled his way back up the ivory neck, and nipped hard, just below the 
curve of a shell-like ear. "Of course you can stand it," he purred, pushing back 
the golden hair soothingly. "Does it not please you, pen vain?"

"Aye, it pleases me very mu…" the prince began, when without warning Elrohir 
took his turgid length into a warm, slippery mouth. "Ai!..Oh,gods…’Roh.. 
oh,yes…good," he growled incoherently, bucking into the willing mouth.

As suddenly as it had begun, the wonderful sensation ended, and Legolas hissed 
in frustration, "Do not stop!" The elf-knight chuckled and kissed the fuming prince 
lightly. "I would not choose to stop, but I have other plans for this, " he murmured, 
stroking the other’s weeping erection lightly. "And I do not wish to wait for you to 
recover."

Grinning evilly, Legolas closed his fist around Elrohir’s throbbing erection, and 
stroked rapidly, teasing the engorged head with his thumb, his left hand reaching 
for Elladan at the same time. As the twins gasped helplessly, he said 
threateningly," I do not wish to wait, any longer, either."

Elladan reached quickly for the oil, slicking his own throbbing shaft before 
drizzling the cool oil on the woodland prince’s arousal. Legolas moaned harshly 
and snatched the bottle, pouring the slippery fluid liberally over his hand. Elrohir 
obligingly spread his legs for the questing fingers, which easily slipped inside his 
puckered opening. As the gently scissoring movement brushed his prostate, he 
threw his head back and barked harshly, "Sweet Eru, hurry!"

Rolling over, Legolas pulled Elladan to him and kissed him fiercely, pushing the 
oil vial into the Peredhel’s hand and opening his legs. *"Now,"* he ordered," Do it 
*now*." The elder twin inhaled sharply, and pressed an oil-slick finger gently 
against the ridged pink opening. Legolas raised his hips from the floor and 
arched down suddenly, pressing the long finger in to the knuckle.

Elladan groaned wordlessly and added another, then another, until the archer 
was writhing under his hand. "Enough, ‘Dan," he panted. "Will be fine… just take 
me...gods...please..."

"’Roh? " the elder twin said hoarsely, raising his eyebrow in a silent question.

"Gods, yes!" Elrohir breathed, dropping to his knees and elbows, wiggling his 
rear temptingly at Legolas. "You take me first, ‘Las."

The prince drew a long shuddering breath, and hauled himself up behind Elrohir, 
rubbing his aching length against the oiled cleft. He bent and kissed the elf-knight 
softly on the shoulder, then took his hips in firm hands. Elladan swallowed thickly, 
and whispered, "All the way in, mellonen. He likes it that way."

With a single smooth thrust and a feral groan, Legolas buried himself in the 
younger twin, who let out a keening cry. "Ai! Move…move..."

Legolas hissed, and thrust smoothly into the velvet heat a few times before 
Elladan slid behind him and murmured, "Ready, pen vain?" rubbing his turgid 
shaft teasingly against the prince’s firm cheeks. "How do you like it, hmm?"

The woodland prince strained back against the elder twin and growled, "Hard and 
deep. And *now*."

Elladan groaned, "I think I can arrange that, híren ," and pushed firmly into the 
welcoming heat. "Oh Elbereth,yes…" he gasped, thrusting slowly. "Move 
between us, ‘Las...like...oh, gods...like that.."

Legolas thrust his hips forward and pulled back blindly, the double sensation of 
sliding into Elrohir, then being filled by Elladan clouding all his other senses. He 
lost all track of time. Nothing else existed. He moaned over and over as the hard 
length pounded his sweet spot, and the velvety warmth engulfed his throbbing 
arousal. Too soon, and yet not soon enough he felt the first tightening in his 
groin. Reaching around to stroke Elrohir’s weeping length, he panted, 
"Valar...’Roh...are you...I am going to..."

Elrohir whimpered hoarsely, "Yes...almost...oh, Elbereth...now..." Then suddenly 
pushing back hard against the prince, he barked out, " I am going to come…I 
am…Ai! ‘Las!"

Legolas howled as the velvety passage tightened around him, and the warm 
cream spilled over his fist. With a final violent thrust, the spasming walls pulled 
his own orgasm from him, and he spilled his seed deep in Elrohir’s body, his own 
spasms pushing Elladan over the edge with a hoarse shout.

The three tumbled to the floor and lay there in a heap for a few moments before 
finding strength to move. Legolas flopped on his back, pulling a twin to each side.

Elladan moved up and kissed him lightly. "Did we please you, ernilen?" he asked 
teasingly.

The woodland prince smirked, then pulled Elrohir up for a kiss. "I have not 
decided yet," he answered cheekily. "You will have to show me again."

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

Elvish Translations:

gwadoren - my sworn brother
Taur-na-Fuin - Mirkwood (wood of nightshade)
peredhil - half elven (plural)
mellonen - my friend
híren - my lord
melethen - my love
tôren - my brother
faer - soul, spirit
rhaiw - bodies
rohir nín - my knight
ernilen - my prince
pen vain - beautiful one
Ai!: Oh!


Interlude


Legolas slowly became aware of the smell of smoke and the crackle of a dying 
fire. Caught for a moment in the hazy state between sleep and wakening, he 
started to turn and stretch, and found himself snugly held in place, surrounded by 
silken strands.

As he jerked into full awareness, his first thought was of spiders- but the silk was 
not sticky, nor foul-smelling. It tickled, and smelled of brisk wind, rain and cedar. 
And it was black, he discovered, focusing carefully in the dim pre-dawn light 
beginning to slip through the arches.

Arches. Imladris. Oh, Valar’s wisdom! The twins. Moving carefully, Legolas 
raised his head and looked about. One of the twins lay facing him, legs entangled 
with his own, ebony hair trailing over them both, mingling with pale gold. 
Disconcerted for a moment, the prince frowned, then pushed back the covering 
furs and glanced down gratefully. The mithril ring was on the left- so this was 
Elladan, and it was Elrohir who was spooned tightly behind him, one arm draped 
across his hip, breath gently tickling his neck.

Returning his head to the pillows, he let his thoughts drift lazily. **Striped fabric**, 
he mused. **We look like a bizarrely striped fabric of black and gold.** 

**No, not fabric**, he decided with a smile. **Dessert! We look like a blackberry 
and cream trifle.**

**Or a sandwich**, he thought, breaking into a broad grin. **That is it, a 
sandwich. Creamed chicken on black rye**, he smirked, stifling a chuckle.

**No, I will not be creamed chicken**, he snorted quietly. Suddenly losing control 
of his mirth, he snickered helplessly into Elladan’s hair. **Honey butter on toasted 
lembas. Very toasted lembas.**

As Legolas tried to stifle his laughter, the curtain of dark hair was thrown back, 
and he found himself looking into twinkling grey eyes. 

"Such high spirits, and so early. What amuses you so, ‘Las?" Elladan asked 
quietly, mindful of Elrohir, still sleeping soundly.

Trying heroically to regain control, Legolas took a deep breath and managed, 
"Creamed chicken…" before once again erupting into suppressed laughter, 
shaking so that Elrohir stirred in his sleep, pressing yet closer.

Elladan raised one eyebrow skyward and queried, "Creamed chicken? It is not 
yet dawn, and you are laughing yourself sick over a sandwich filling?"

Legolas snickered once more and whispered, "Exactly. We look like a sandwich, 
and I will not be creamed chicken."

The elder twin stared at him blankly for a moment, before breaking into a 
dazzling grin. "And what filling would you be, hmm? And more importantly, what 
does it make me?"

"Honey butter," the woodland prince chuckled quietly. "And that makes you 
toasted lembas...or half a cinnamon bun," he added.

"Honey butter?" Elladan repeated musingly, raising his hand to the prince’s face. 
"Let me see…" he breathed against Legolas’ lips, before capturing his mouth in a 
soft, warm kiss. "Sweet and rich. Aye, you can be honey butter, I suppose."

"But just now, you are still sleep-drunk," he went on, snuggling closer to the 
golden prince, "As am I. Lie still, anor nín, and rest awhile. 'Tis not yet time to 
rise."

Legolas willingly complied, drifting slowly back toward sleep in the comforting 
warmth of the bodies curled around his own. 

Just as he dropped off, he thought drowsily of Elladan’s words. *‘Lie still, anor 
nín.’*

**'Anor nín,'** the prince mused.** 'Should I be flattered, or frightened?'** 

Too groggy to struggle with the possible import, he slipped into slumber.


*******************
. 

Elvish Translation:

anor nín - my sun

Author’s note: My elves can and do sleep when they feel safe, but they do not require sleep like 
mortals, being able to rest in reverie



Chapter 4


Elrohir crouched low, dropping his head as the swirling white knives flew by, 
perilously close. Springing up, he swung his light elven sword in a graceful arc, 
forcing Legolas to back up or be sliced.

Smiling grimly, the Mirkwood prince panted out, "Well done, mellonen," before 
renewing his attack. Feigning to one side, he dropped suddenly into a roll, 
slipping under Elrohir’s lethal two-handed swing to his unprotected body. The elf-
knight realized too late the prince’s intent, and tried to lower his blade in 
protection, but the twin knives sliced cleanly through the air, grazing the stiff 
leather of Elrohir’s bracers.

Though all the blades were wax-dipped to dull the razor-like edges for practice, 
the weapons were still potentially deadly, and Legolas quickly pulled back at the 
sound of contact. "’Roh," he asked anxiously, "are you alright?"

"He is fine," Elladan called from the side of the field, where he stood talking with 
Glorfindel. "Continue the match."

"Thank you for your brotherly concern, tôren," Elrohir growled . "I could have 
been skewered like a boar." Nevertheless, he took up his ready position and 
nodded at Legolas to continue the bout.

"Your friend is becoming quite a warrior, " Glorfindel commented. "I have never 
seen his like on the archery range. I wish some of our bowmen had half his skill, 
and they are more than twice his age."

"Aye, he is the best archer in Arda, or soon will be, I wager. But ‘Roh and I still 
best him in close combat," Elladan returned.

The Balrog-slayer looked at his some-time student sharply, but there was no 
trace of guile on his face. The double-entendre must have been unintended, the 
golden elder decided. Watching the match dispassionately, Glorfindel had to 
agree. As good as the Mirkwood royal was with his wicked white knives, Elrohir 
had the greater skill. He watched with interest as the warriors circled and parried, 
looking for an effective opening. 

They made an attractive sight also, the seneschal decided. Both dressed lightly 
in sparring garb, their muscles rippled and flexed visibly beneath the snug fabric. 
Elrohir’s raven locks were gathered into a thick braid, mithril glinting in the sun. 
The twins had talked Legolas into a single braid, also, and his golden hair hung 
like a rope down his back, the plait flying like a scythe as he turned and whirled 
with his knives.

The single braid did something else, Glorfindel noticed with amusement. It bared 
his neck for all to see, and evidence of his activities these past few days was 
plentiful. Anyone in Imladris who was past his majority would recognize those 
marks as the work of the twins. They were as blatant a ‘Keep Away’ sign as any, 
bar shouting.

Suddenly, the match ended as the elder had thought it must. Dropping low, 
Elrohir swung out a leg, taking Legolas completely by surprise, and effectively 
knocking him off his feet. As the archer hit the ground, the elf-knight rolled over 
and straddled him, pinning the amazed elf to the turf. Elrohir quickly laid the flat 
of his blade against the prince’s throat, and Legolas ruefully handed over his 
knives grips up, in a show of defeat.

The elf-knight took the knives and thrust them easily into the ground above 
Legolas’ shoulders, then raised his head to look intently at Elladan, his eyes dark 
as midnight in his exertion-flushed face.

Elladan smiled slightly, and took Glorfindel by the arm. "Let us go back, meldir," 
he said softly, pulling the Balrog-slayer along.

Glorfindel glanced back at the clearing, where Elrohir still sat astride the prince, 
then turned to look full at Elladan. "'Tis no longer a game, is it, pen neth?" he 
asked quietly.

"Nay, Glorfindel, it is longer a game," the elder twin answered with a wry smile. "If 
it ever was. I am not sure."

"Ernilen," the Balrog-slayer began, "Be careful. Take it from one who knows. Any 
triad is difficult, but yours? Yours has problems one can only imagine…"

"Let it be, mellonen," Elladan broke in seriously. "Please. Talking can not change 
our hearts. Just let it go."

"Aye, I will let it be for the current time," Glorfindel agreed. "But if you need me, 
or if your Prince needs a shoulder, I am here."

Elladan smiled in answer, squeezing Glorfindel’s arm gratefully.

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


"Get off me, ‘Roh," Legolas said in exasperation, pushing the blade away 
carefully. "You are quite heavy, gwadoren."

The elf-knight gave him a cheeky grin, and tossed his sword to the side. "I think 
not," he retorted, leaning close to the woodland prince and tossing away the 
knives, "I am quite comfortable, also."

With growing alarm, Legolas noticed the darkening of the silvery eyes, and the 
raspy edge of the usually musical voice. "Elrohir, let me up. Now," he insisted 
quietly, trying to calm his racing pulse. "We have an audience."

"Nay, they have gone," the younger twin purred, extending his body full-length 
over the prince and suckling the pale throat. "And I find myself famished," he 
continued, lavishly licking a perfect ear before nibbling gently at the point, "And in 
the mood for wood-elf."

Legolas gasped at the sensation, reflexively pressing his hips upward against his 
captor. "Wait," the golden prince pleaded, trying to hold on to his lucidity. "Stop, 
please, Elrohir. Not here. And Elladan…"

"Elladan knows, and he does not mind," Elrohir murmured distractedly, tugging at 
the fastenings of the archer’s snug shirt. "He…"

Suddenly, Legolas was furious. "But I mind," he hissed angrily, pushing with 
surprising strength against the startled elf-knight’s chest. "I do not wish to be 
taken like a human whore, in a public field, in broad daylight! Get off me!"

Caught off guard by the outburst, Elrohir moved away as the Mirkwood prince 
jumped to his feet. "I did not mean to treat you like a whore," he began 
soothingly, "I just wanted…"

"Exactly," Legolas snarled, his rage undimmed, "You wanted, so you were going 
to take. Never mind what I wanted. I am not a toy, Peredhel, to be played with 
whenever you like. I thought we were still friends."

"So did I," the elf-knight replied quietly, an ominous glitter in the darkened eyes. 
"And I found you more willing than you claim," he continued tightly, staring 
pointedly at the undeniable bulge in the prince’s leggings.

"Does that make it right?" the woodland prince snapped. "It is acceptable to maul 
me against my expressed wishes because my body responds?"

For a long moment, Legolas thought he had gone too far, and was to be 
thrashed. 

Elrohir’s eyes glittered coldly, and his hands clenched repeatedly. Then, 
suddenly, all the light faded from the grey orbs, leaving them sad and forlorn. "Is 
that what you think of me now? That I would maul you, take you against your 
will?" he asked quietly. Without waiting for a reply, he bent to pick up his 
discarded blade. "Forgive me, your Majesty. I will not bother you again."

Legolas’ heart sank at the pain in the grey eyes, the flame of his anger 
extinguished as quickly as it had flared. "’Roh, wait, please…" he begged, hoping 
the affectionate nickname would reach the elf-knight. 

Impulsively, he reached out and tried to grasp the pale hand, and was stricken to 
the heart when Elrohir shied from the touch. "I am going to bathe," the younger 
twin said without inflection, and walked away.

The woodland prince slowly picked up his own knives, re-sheathing them 
automatically in the scabbard at his hip. Torn between following Elrohir, as his 
heart bid him, and stubbornly staying away, as his pride insisted, he dropped into 
the grass and put his head in his hands. 

**Follow him. Do not let it wait.**

The words slid through his mind as though another was speaking. Surprised, he 
looked around, only to find that he was still alone.

**Go on! Please. He did not seek to hurt you.**

"Nor did I seek to hurt him," he replied to no one in particular, leaping to his feet 
and heading for the bathing pools.


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

Elvish Translations:

mellonen - my friend
tôren - my brother
meldir - male friend
pen neth - young one
ernilen - my prince
gwadoren - my sworn brother


Chapter 5 


Legolas hurried toward the public bathing pools, too distraught at his argument 
with Elrohir to ponder the sudden ‘inner voice’. There was always the chance the 
younger twin had returned to his own rooms to bathe, but he had headed toward 
the waterfalls, and the small collection of pools preferred by the Imladrian 
warriors.

Reaching the rough-hewn structure that protected the pools, the woodland prince 
feared he had mistaken the other’s aim, for there was no sound save the gentle 
fall of water in the rinsing room.
As he looked around the dim disrobing chamber, however, he saw with relief that 
Elrohir’s dusty garments were hanging on one of the wall hooks.

Stripping off his own soiled clothing, he stepped into the second room of the 
baths, where water poured briskly from several high troughs, allowing the bather 
to rinse off the dust before entering the pools. As he stood under the streaming 
water, Legolas tried to gather courage to face Elrohir. Remembering how he had 
lashed out at the elf-knight, the prince cringed inwardly. 

Never before had he used ‘Peredhel’ as an insult…just as the Noldor-descended 
twins had never called him ‘wood-elf’, except with affection. To have stooped to 
such a remark…it wrung his heart, and he feared the mistake unforgivable. 
Consciously steadying himself, he twisted the water from his hair and entered the 
main bathing chamber.

On first glance, the pools seemed empty, but then the prince’s acute hearing 
caught a soft sigh, coming from one of the smaller, warmer pools that was 
partially hidden by rock formations. Stepping quietly, he rounded the stone 
barrier and stopped.

The elf-knight sat against the side of the chest-deep pool, arms extended along 
the rocky edge. His head was back, eyes closed as though resting, but it was 
plain he was not at peace. His face was tension-filled, and he flexed and opened 
his hands, as though seeking to loosen knotted muscles. 

"’Roh?" Legolas spoke softly, hoping not to startle the distressed elf. When he 
received no answer, he spoke again, louder, "Elrohir?"

There was no surprise in the voice that finally replied. "Aye."

"I…will…may I join you?" the woodland prince stuttered out.

Silver-grey eyes, glazed as those of a wounded animal, were turned to him, "For 
what reason, híren?" the younger twin countered quietly.

Only the shreds of his pride kept Legolas from crying outright. "Please, Elrohir, 
do not name me so. Will you not allow me to share your pool, to speak?"

Nodding wordlessly, the elf-knight closed his eyes once more.

Lowering himself into the warm, scented water, the prince was careful not to 
make physical contact with the other elf. Elrohir seemed like nothing so much as 
an injured wild thing, and Legolas was leery of touching him, lest he flee. Settling 
carefully in the pool, he drew a deep breath and said, "Forgive me, gwadoren. I 
let my anger rule my tongue. I am sorry."

As the seconds spun out in silence, Legolas’ heart sunk even lower. When it 
became obvious that the elf-knight would not speak, the prince said softly, "Six 
hundred years. We have fought and drank and played together for six centuries, 
Elrohir. Can…"

"Aye, six centuries," the younger twin broke in, looking at Legolas with tears 
brimming in his silvery eyes. "Six hundred years, and you think me capable of 
forcing you? Of trying to? Do you know me so little, after that span of time? I 
hoped…dared think, that now…but it no longer matters…" Unable to hold back 
his tears any longer, the elf-knight turned his head swiftly away, and drew a 
ragged breath. 

Shattered, the woodland prince could no longer restrain himself. Grasping 
Elrohir’s hand tightly, he cried, "But it does matter, it does…," before stopping to 
steady his voice. "Everything about you matters, rohir nín," he continued, the oft-
heard but never-used endearment slipping out easily. "Please, forgive me. I did 
not mean it. I know you would never, could never do anything so vile. Please, do 
not pull your heart away from me so."

The elf-knight looked at him intently, the smallest spark of light returning to the 
drowned grey eyes. "What did you call me?" he asked hesitantly.

Legolas looked blank for a moment, then flushed as he realized what he had 
done. "Rohir nín. I am sorry. That is Elladan’s name for…"

"You may use it, if you wish. I rather like it, and I think ‘Dan will not mind," Elrohir 
interrupted with a slight smile.

So relieved was the golden prince by even the hint of a smile on the other's 
countenance, tears began to flow freely down his own face. 

The elf-knight reacted with alarm. "Do not weep so, ‘Las. I can not bear it. 
Everything will be right. I am no longer distressed, and I am ashamed to have 
treated you so." Frowning with concern, he pulled Legolas into his arms, 
murmuring as though he were comforting an elfling. "Do not cry, pen vain, 
please."

"Valar, ‘Roh, I am so sorry," the prince sobbed out, his face buried in the younger 
twin's neck. "The things I said…how I hurt you…I felt as though my heart had 
been ripped out when you walked away."

"’Tis fine, gwadoren," Elrohir soothed. "Mayhap I was a bit overbearing. I did not 
think of onlookers." He grinned sheepishly, "Sometimes I need a reining hand."

Legolas snickered softly. "Aye, sometimes you do," he joked, before continuing 
seriously. "I am fair frightened by this new wrinkle in our relationship, rohir nín. 
Sometimes, I just want my friends back."

Elrohir glowed with pleasure at the prince’s use of the endearment. "Your friends 
have not gone, anor nín. We will always be here. Can we not be both friends and 
lovers?"

"I am not sure," Legolas answered honestly. "I have had friends that I bedded, 
some of them frequently, but this is not the same, I feel."

"Nay, I do not feel that it is, ernilen," the elf-knight replied, pushing back the 
damp golden hair to nuzzle an ear, "And I think we will let it be there, lest we find 
ourselves distressed again."

"Aye, I do not wish to be distressed again this day," the woodland prince said 
sweetly. "I wish to be loved…if you are still in the mood for wood-elf, that is?"

Grinning widely, Elrohir replied, "I am nearly always in the mood for wood-elf, 
mellonen." Turning Legolas astride his lap, the elf-knight tangled his hands in the 
sun-gold locks and brought their lips together, gently urging the other’s mouth 
open, sliding his tongue into the welcoming warmth.

As the kiss deepened- tongues dancing urgently together, teeth nipping- the 
prince let out a low growl and grabbed a handful of ebony-dark hair, pulling back 
the elf-knight’s head, exposing his pale throat to easy attack. Suckling and 
nipping, he covered the warrior’s neck with red marks, finally latching on to 
create a magnificent red-purple bruise in the hollow of his throat.

"Barbarian," Elrohir groaned, in delicious pain as Legolas nipped the tender spot 
over and over. Grasping the ivory hips firmly, he pulled the archer up tight 
against his chest, their straining arousals sliding together divinely in the warm 
water.

"Ohhh…that is nice…very nice indeed," the prince purred, rocking his hips 
against the elf-knight. Leaning out slightly, he slid his hand down to grasp the 
mithril ring that pierced Elrohir’s right nipple. Tugging gently, he smirked when 
warrior gasped, losing his grip on the rocking hips.

Free to move, Legolas slid down quickly and took the ring in his mouth, pulling 
with his teeth before releasing it to suckle the other nipple, garnering a helpless 
moan from his victim. Pulling away, he cooed, "Raise up a bit, ‘Roh."

"Why?" the other gasped out, even as he obeyed, pulling himself up on his 
elbows at the pool edge.

"Because I do not wish to drown, silly elf," the golden prince said with an evil grin, 
rising to his knees. Supporting the floating hips with his arms, he bent his head 
and languidly drew his tongue up the underside of Elrohir’s throbbing length, then 
took the engorged tip in his mouth and sucked softly.

"Oh, Elbereth…that feels good…" the elf knight panted, trying vainly to thrust 
upward into the slippery warmth. Raising his head, he stared open mouthed at 
the picture before him. Hair like sunlit gold fell across his abdomen and thighs, 
the drenched ends moving to and fro with the water. Even as he watched 
breathlessly, the cat-like tongue licked him from base to tip, lapping at the 
weeping slit before soft lips covered the sensitive head, teasing with gentle 
suction. Emerald eyes, warm and shining, met his for an instant, then fell away 
as the sweet torture continued.

Letting his head fall back, Elrohir drew a long shuddering breath that ended in a 
keening wail as Legolas suddenly closed his lips over the warrior’s aching shaft 
and swallowed, caressing the length with his tongue and throat. "Ai! Oh, 
gods…wait…not like this…" Elrohir gasped hoarsely, "Please…wait…"

Relenting, the woodland prince reluctantly let go of his captive’s hips, allowing 
the elf-knight to settle back into the water. "And what do you have in mind, 
hmm?" Legolas murmured against the dark elf’s lips, nipping gently. "How, if not 
like this?"

In answer, Elrohir stood fluidly and reached out a hand to pull the golden prince 
to his feet, leading him out of the pool to the drying room. Spreading his bath 
blanket on the soft mossy ground, the elf-knight lowered himself gracefully, 
gently forcing Legolas down with him. "Like this," the warrior whispered, licking 
and nibbling at an already-pink ear. "I would see you, and taste you," he 
breathed, nuzzling the prince’s ivory throat.

Legolas gasped as his lover bit down firmly, marking his neck, before trailing 
warm lips down to his chest. Inky-black hair, soft as silk, slid teasingly over his 
skin as the mouth trailed lower, finally taking in one golden ring, peaking the 
nipple and sending delicious chills running over his body. "Oh, gods…" he 
groaned, "Oh…oh..yes…" as the teasing lips went to the other side, suckling and 
caressing.

Nibbling and licking, the elf-knight made his way down the flat stomach, burying 
his tongue in the tempting navel before licking his way to the weeping arousal. 
The woodland prince whimpered wordlessly when Elrohir closed his mouth 
around the swollen head, swirling his tongue lightly over the slit. Slowly he took 
the turgid length into his mouth and began to move, sliding his lips up and down 
the aching flesh, again and again. 

Legolas panted helplessly, unable to thrust, his hips held securely in strong 
hands. "Oh, Valar…too much…please, rohir nín…please…" he pleaded, 
grasping the ebony hair in both hands.

Pulling himself up, Elrohir looked into the gold-flecked emerald eyes, then placed 
two fingers against the prince’s lips. "May I?" he queried softly, watching the 
other’s expression closely.

Legolas silently took the fingers into his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue 
around them sensuously. Closing his eyes with a groan, the elf-knight removed 
his wet fingers from the teasing tongue, using them to lightly stroke the prince’s 
tight opening. Capturing the archer’s mouth in a searching kiss, he slid first one, 
then both fingers into the puckered entrance, scissoring gently.

Adding another finger, he pressed in harder, suddenly finding the spot he was 
seeking, causing the prince to writhe beneath him. "Yes…there...oh, 
yes…please..." Legolas whimpered incoherently, pulling his legs up, spreading 
them wide.

Almost undone himself by the archer’s state, Elrohir moved between the eagerly 
spread thighs, positioning his dripping length at the relaxed opening. With a fluid 
thrust he entered the velvety heat, and strong legs immediately went around his 
waist, pulling him deeper still.

Struggling desperately for control, the elf-knight remained still for a moment, his 
breath coming in gasps. "Sweet Eru…now…move…" Legolas growled, 
squeezing his legs tightly around the warrior’s waist.

With a deep groan, Elrohir gave in, thrusting hard into the silken warmth. 
"Oh..yes..," he breathed, "You feel so good…" Speeding up rapidly, pounding 
into the willing body beneath him, he supported himself on one arm, then 
reached down and took the prince’s engorged, slick length in his hand and began 
stroking firmly, matching the rhythm of his own thrusts.

Legolas gasped wildly, shuddering. "I am going to come," he panted, tossing his 
golden head from side to side. "Oh, gods…’Roh…going to come…"

"Come, then pen vain," the elf-knight panted, "Spill for me…let me see you…"

With a feral howl, Legolas arched his back into a perfect bow, his shimmering 
seed splattering them both. Elrohir shouted hoarsely and thrust deep into the 
ivory body, the strong spasms milking his orgasm from him. Falling forward on 
the prince, he nuzzled the flushed face, nibbling at the swollen lips, before 
reluctantly withdrawing his softening length.

After their breathing had returned to normal, another bath was needed, so it was 
late afternoon before the two were read to leave the bathing house. 

Prepared to wear his dusty clothes again, Legolas was surprised to find clean 
clothing hanging on his hook, and his soiled garb nowhere to be seen. Slipping 
into the light leggings and shirt, he pondered their appearance, looking at Elrohir 
questioningly, as the warrior also had clean garments.

The elf-knight smiled, and answered the unspoken question. "’Dan brought them 
while we were in the pools, I wager. We will owe him heavily this night, ‘Las."

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


Elvish Translations:

peredhel - half elf
híren - my lord
gwadoren - my sworn brother
rohir nín - my knight
pen vain - beautiful one
anor nín - my sun
ernilen - my prince
mellonen - my friend


Interlude 2

The afternoon sun streamed onto the balcony, causing Elladan’s damp hair to 
gleam like purest obsidian as he leaned over the railing to see what helpful elf 
might be passing by below. Catching sight of Falowen, a young serving maid in 
the kitchens, he grinned broadly. She was the perfect choice to carry out his 
plan. 

Calling softly, he managed to capture her attention, and the confused youngling 
looked up uncertainly. To her amazement, she saw one of the twin princes- 
covered in nothing but leggings and wet hair- beaming down on her. "Híren?" she 
answered hesitantly, "Did you call?".

"Aye, I did Falowen. And my name is Elladan, please. Would you be headed to 
the kitchens now?" he asked, smiling kindly at her flushed face.

"Aye, Prince Elladan, I am. May I do some service for you, híren?" the startled 
servant replied, then blushed furiously when she realized how her question might 
be misconstrued. "Forgive me, ernilen, I meant…"

"I know what you meant. Do not distress yourself so, pen neth," Elladan said with 
a grin. "I can not bite you from up here. I would like you to deliver this note to 
your mistress. And tell her I want you to carry out the instructions personally. Will 
you do this for me, Falowen?"

"Aye, híren," the flustered maid answered, skillfully catching the dropped missive 
and hastening away, scarcely acknowledging Elladan’s thanks.

Chuckling, Elladan returned to the den and settled into his favorite oversized 
chair to await developments.

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

"Come with me to our chambers, meldir, and we will have a drink with ‘Dan 
before time to dress," Elrohir coaxed. "You have ample time before dinner."

Legolas shook his head. "Nay, ‘Roh. I need a space of time to myself just now," 
he replied firmly, touching the elf-knight’s arm to soften his words. "Mayhap I will 
come by your rooms before the meal. If not, I will see you at table."

"’Las, is something still amiss?" Elrohir asked carefully. "I do not wish for any 
wounds to fester between us."

The golden prince smiled and replied, "All is as well as it can be, gwadoren. I 
have much to ponder, and this manner of thinking is best done alone."

Frowning reluctantly, the younger twin watched Legolas go, then turned toward 
his own chambers.

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

Elladan looked up with a smile when Elrohir burst into their rooms. His face 
lightening at the sight of his twin, the elf-knight flung himself into the chair with his 
brother and snuggled tightly, relishing the warm feeling of wholeness that flowed 
around them. "Someone else has had a bath," he said softly, nuzzling the still-
damp strands.

"Aye, I did. And I see you escaped," Elladan teased, "If not completely 
unscathed." Gently touching the bruise on Elrohir’s throat, he continued, "Did you 
kiss and make up, or did he try to throttle you?"

"I fear a kin-slaying may have crossed his mind, but we have resolved our 
problem, for the time at least," the younger twin said morosely. "Thank you for 
the clothes, melethen, " he went on more cheerfully, "though I fear their 
appearance served to disturb our prince even further."

"Will you tell me what happened, rohir nín ?" Elladan asked gently. "Nothing was 
clear to me, only incredibly strong emotions."

"I am not exactly sure what happened," Elrohir began slowly. I was only 
playing…"

The older twin arched an eyebrow skeptically, and the elf-knight grimaced. 
"Mayhap I was not playing, but I meant no harm. He became so angry, so 
suddenly…and I, well, I returned the favor, and violence nearly erupted."

Elladan nodded thoughtfully. "I felt your pain, and your anger, tôren. But there 
was something else - I think…I know that I felt something else. Not as strongly as 
I feel you, always, but definitely there. I am certain it was ‘Las, and I know not 
what to make of it. He was angry, aye, but more than that, confused. So very 
distressed."

Elrohir looked at his twin incredulously. "You mean you could reach him? Touch 
him with your thoughts?"

The elder twin shrugged. "I am not entirely sure, melethen. It was perplexing, 
because feelings were streaming from both sources, and I was taken by surprise. 
I got the impression that you were walking away, hurt, leaving him in anger, and 
he was unsure what to do. I tried to soothe him, to send him after you. Whether 
he heard or not, I do not know. In any case, he did not answer."

"But he did come after me," the elf-knight said quietly, burying his face in 
Elladan’s neck. "I am fair afraid he will not like this, ‘Dan. It will terrify him. He 
already regrets coming to our bed, I wager. He feels he has lost his friends."

Elladan wrapped his arms around his twin, stroking his hair soothingly. "I did not 
foresee this, rohir nín. I know not what will come of it in the end. He cares for us 
deeply- but can he be ‘anor nín’ to both?" 

"Aye, that is the problem," The younger twin replied. "Could any stand to be part 
of a bond that includes something he cannot have? We cannot draw him into our 
soul, into our twin-bond, no matter how strong our bond with him might become." 
Elrohir sighed heavily.

"It was only to be fun, for pleasure. We meant no harm to him, el nín," he 
continued sadly, his voice muffled against Elladan’s throat. 

"And he knows that," the elder twin reassured him. "’Twill be alright, melethen, I 
swear. We will make sure of it."

"He called me rohir nín," the elf-knight said suddenly. "I think he is sorry. He was 
afraid you would be angry."

"I think he does not understand our bond, and he fears harming it," Elladan said 
thoughtfully. "I am not angry, melethen. We will discuss it tomorrow. We have a 
lot to discuss tomorrow."

Then he continued with a grin, "As for tonight, there are two gorgeous elves 
deeply in my debt, and I intend to collect, with interest."

"I look forward to paying my part of the debt, el nín," Elrohir purred, his tongue 
flicking along the other’s strong jaw. Suddenly his smile faded, and he whispered, 
"I am not so sure about the other gorgeous elf, though. He would not come up 
with me earlier."

"He will come up before the dinner hour, " Elladan said confidently, his eyes 
twinkling. "I sent him a most reassuring message."

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

Legolas paced his room, struggling to calm himself. So much had happened- the 
fight with Elrohir, the ‘inner voice’, and, well, everything at the bathing pools. The 
tears, the endearments…the sex…and Elladan knew, of that he was sure. What 
the prince was not so confident in was Elrohir’s insistence that his twin would not 
mind.

He worried that he had done something irrevocable, something that would 
destroy their friendship, and hurt the two people he cared most for in all of Arda.

Stopping his pacing suddenly, he gaped. **‘The two people I care the most for in 
all of Arda?’**  Closing his mouth, he stood very still for a moment, then groaned 
and dropped into a chair.  **‘Sweet Elbereth, what have I done? What am I 
doing? I am falling for two of my best friends, and I have betrayed one of them.’**

A loud knock at the door jerked the woodland prince from his thoughts, and he 
gingerly opened the door, half-expecting an enraged Elladan. Instead he was 
surprised to see a very pretty elven maid, wearing the apron and cap of a kitchen 
servant, and holding a basket.

"My Lord Prince," the maid said, curtsying low, handing him the basket. "’Tis from 
Prince Elladan, with his compliments. He also requests that you join him in his 
chambers at your earliest convenience, but please before dinner, he said, híren."

Smiling at the slightly garbled message, Legolas nodded his thanks, and shut the 
door. Taking the basket to the table, he discovered a small bottle of miruvor 
tucked into the corner, along with a beautiful green glass. Considering this a 
good sign that the basket was not booby-trapped (unless, of course, the miruvor 
were poisoned), he poured himself a splash of the cordial, and unfolded the 
green linen napkin that covered the rest of the offering.

The golden prince stood staring for a moment, then threw his head back and 
laughed aloud, in better spirits than he had been all this day.

The basket was full of cinnamon buns, fresh from the oven. Every one of them 
spread lavishly with honey butter.

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

Elvish Translations:

pen neth - young one
híren - my lord
ernilen - my prince
meldir - male friend
gwadoren - my sworn brother
rohir nín - my knight
melethen - my love
el nín - my star
anor nín - my sun 


Chapter 6

Legolas knocked softly, unwilling to walk into the twins' chambers uninvited. 
Nearly before the echoes ended, a lyrical voice called out in welcome. "Come in, 
gwadoren. ‘Tis unlocked." 

Taking a deep breath, the prince pushed open the door and stepped into the 
room. The twins sat cuddled together in a large chair, but as he entered they 
unfolded themselves gracefully, and stood to greet him. They were dressed 
identically in black and grey, and only their beaded hair allowed them to be 
discerned from one another. It was unusual for them to dress so, and Legolas 
found it disorienting. Fleetingly, he wondered if it had been done purposefully, to 
make a point.

Eyes focusing on brilliant blue beads, the woodland prince took a tentative step 
forward. "Elladan?" he said uncertainly.

"Legolas," the elder twin returned solemnly, silver-grey eyes searching the 
prince’s face intently.

For a moment, there was silence, then Elladan smiled and reached out a hand, 
which Legolas quickly moved to clasp. 

"I am…I mean…" he began, then suddenly drew the dark elf into a tight embrace. 
"Thank you for the...for the message," he whispered, his voice muffled by an 
ebony braid. "I was afraid."

"I know, anor nín," Elladan murmured gently, stroking the golden hair. "’Tis 
alright. I know."

Raising his head, Legolas looked into the glowing eyes, understanding dawning. 
"’Twas you, was it not? The voice, when no one was there. It was you."

"Aye, it was me," Elladan agreed. "We will speak of it tomorrow."

"But I don’t understand. How could you…" the golden prince started, frowning, 
only to be interrupted by a soft kiss.

"Tomorrow, ‘Las," the older twin repeated, running his thumb over the just-kissed 
lips. "We will talk tomorrow. Tonight we will feel."

"But…" Legolas began again stubbornly, when he was silenced by Elrohir’s 
fingers over his mouth. "Please," the elf-knight said quietly. "Tomorrow we will 
talk, as long as you wish. Tonight is for pleasure, for play."

"Aye, you owe me a great debt," Elladan teased with a grin. "Would you deny me 
my payment?"

Unable to resist, caught unawares by his own fast-rising elation, Legolas could 
not help but return the grin. "Nay, I would deny you nothing. Tonight we will play."

As he finished speaking, chimes rang out, calling the household to dinner.

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

The formal dining hall was once again awash in flickering light as Lord Elrond 
and his guests enjoyed another grand meal. The Lord of Imladris turned to his 
seneschal, and smiled ruefully. "I am beginning to yearn for a simple picnic, 
cooked over a fire, Glorfindel," he said wryly. "Another week of feasting to go, 
then scarce a break before the mid-winter celebrations begin. Why must elves 
celebrate everything with food?"

"Do away with the feasting, Ada, and serve only wine and miruvor," Elrohir 
suggested. "In little time, all attending would forget about food, and you would be 
free to have your picnic."

Glorfindel grinned. "Aye, they would forget about eating," he agreed. "They would 
likely also forget the way home, and we would be stuck with the drunkards for an 
entire season."

"Besides," Elladan broke in, "There is something to be said for a small meal with 
your miruvor." Smiling innocently at his father, he said, "Myself, I have become 
quite fond of honey butter with my late night cordial."

"Aye, something sweet goes well…" Elrond began, when he was interrupted by a 
strangled cough from the Mirkwood prince. "Are you well, Legolas?" the 
Imladrian Lord asked in concern.

"I am, híren," the prince replied, mastering his cough. Giving Elladan a blazing 
smile, he continued, "I agree something sweet is exactly the thing to serve with 
miruvor, especially just before sleep. I prefer cinnamon buns, myself."

Elrohir bit his lip furiously for a moment, then added, "You know, the two together 
would be the perfect miruvor accompaniment. Split cinnamon buns spread with 
honey butter, hmm? Truly, it sounds much better than many other options, don’t 
you agree, ‘Las?"

"Certainly, ‘Roh. Much better than, oh, say, creamed chicken…" Legolas began, 
dangerously near breaking into giggles.

"On black rye?" the twins chorused, and all three were lost, howling with laughter 
in un-princely abandon.

Glorfindel smothered his chuckles, watching Elrond sway between amused 
tolerance and outrage. Luckily, he had not yet made his decision when the 
offenders decided to withdraw.

"Permission to excuse ourselves, Ada?" Elladan gasped, threatening to erupt into 
giggles.

"Granted," the Peredhel lord nodded, as the three princes rose, still smothering 
laughter that threatened hysteria.

"Híren," Legolas managed with a bow, before he broke into snickers again, and 
was dragged from the room by the twins.

Sighing, Elrond looked at Glorfindel. "Why do I doubt we were discussing food, 
meldir?"

"Remember, mellonen," the Balrog slayer reminded him with a cheeky grin, "You 
are more content not knowing." 

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

Still snickering desperately, the three miscreants garnered many odd looks as 
they made their way through the halls to the twin’s private rooms. Once safely 
inside, there was a second’s silence as they exchanged glances, then as if on 
cue, the three burst again into laughter, tears streaming as they gasped 
helplessly.

"Well, I have just convinced your Adar that I am completely unhinged, " Legolas 
managed, after a few minutes.

"Nay, he already knew," Elrohir countered with a grin. "You spend too much time 
with us to be otherwise."

Looking around fruitlessly, Elladan opened the door and called a maid, asking 
that a fresh bottle of miruvor be brought to the chambers.

The elder twin turned from the door with a dazzling grin. "Shortly we will have all 
the necessary ingredients, and I suggest the two of you rest until then. You will 
need all your strength later, I promise."

"Mayhap we should make ourselves comfortable, ere the torture begins, eh, 
‘Las?" Elrohir said with a smirk, motioning for the archer to follow him into the 
bedroom. Digging carelessly through a drawer, the elf-knight pulled out three pair 
of loose black sleep-pants and tossed one garment to Legolas. "Here, try these," 
he advised. "We are nearly the same size, and the lacing will snug them."

As he spoke, the younger twin stepped out of his formal wear and slipped into 
the sleek black pants. Lacing the cording loosely, he turned and looked in the 
mirror with ill-concealed satisfaction. The silken glow of the fabric mimicked that 
of his raven-black hair, which hung nearly to the top of his garment, secured only 
by the small side braids with their mithril beads. His pale skin glowed like marble, 
and the mithril ring that pierced his right nipple shone with a frosty glint.

The golden prince looked at him warily, but stripped out of his own clothing and 
pulled on the sensually soft sleep-pants, tugging on the silken lacing to secure 
them. Looking in the mirror, he was surprised to find the black garment quite 
flattering. The loose pants rode low on his narrow hips, the shimmering black 
fabric emphasizing the creamy tone of his ivory skin. The golden nipple rings 
glittered in the flickering firelight, and his pale hair seemed ablaze.

Elrohir stepped close behind the prince, silvery eyes catching the blue-green 
ones in the mirror. "Aye, you are beautiful indeed," he whispered, pressing a soft 
kiss to the tip of one ear.

"As are you," Legolas returned, turning to press his lips to the elf-knight’s cheek. 
"Both of you. It is almost too much to bear."

Hearing the outer chamber door close, Elrohir picked up the third pair of sleep-
pants and led the way back into the den. Elladan stood opening the new bottle of 
miruvor, three glasses near at hand. Turning, he surveyed the other two 
carefully. "This is most exceptionally fine, " he said with a wicked grin. "Most fine, 
indeed."

Elrohir returned the smile, offering the silken black garment to his twin. "’Twould 
be even more fine, el nín," he purred, "If you joined us, hmm?"

"Aye, mayhap it would," Elladan replied, his smile turning predatory. "Some help, 
please, with my fastenings?"

"But of course," the elf-knight said, nimble fingers undoing the clasps that 
secured the formal tunic, pushing the heavy fabric off his brother’s shoulders. 
"We are here to serve, " he continued seductively, sliding the silky under-tunic 
off, pressing sweet kisses to the bared skin of Elladan’s chest, then slowly 
unlacing the black leather leggings.

Legolas stood watching, transfixed by the intense eroticism of the scene. The 
twins were totally absorbed in their teasing play, seemingly unaware of his 
scrutiny, and he took a deep breath, struggling to hold off his own stirring 
arousal.

Suddenly Elladan’s darkened eyes met his, and the golden prince swallowed 
hard, his stomach knotting traitorously as the elder twin motioned for him to come 
closer. Elrohir, snugging up the lacing of the sleep-pants, smiled at him 
reassuringly.

As he hesitated, then slowly moved toward the dark pair, Elladan looked at him 
curiously. "Surely you do not fear me, ‘Las," he said softly, reaching out to take 
the archer’s hand.

"Nay, I do not fear you," Legolas answered truthfully. "I feel like an intruder."

Elladan shook his head firmly, and caught the prince’s chin in his hand. "Not an 
intruder, pen vain," he said looking intently into the blue-green eyes. "An invited 
guest. A very welcome guest." 

Leaning closer, the elder twin covered the tempting mouth with his own, gently 
urging the lips apart to admit his probing tongue. Legolas welcomed the invasion, 
curling his own tongue around the other, nipping teasingly with his teeth, until 
Elladan growled with pleasure, pulling the prince tightly against himself.

"I…believe," he purred, punctuating his words with light kisses, "I…will have 
…my.. …first…serving...of…honey..butter…without…miruvor." Raising his head 
to look at Elrohir, he continued with an evil grin, "And without side dishes."

The elf-knight snickered. "You are cruel, tôren," he retorted. "Very cruel, indeed."

"Aye, I am," Elladan agreed with a smirk. "But you love me anyway, hmm?"

"Always, el nín," Elrohir said seriously, before turning a teasing smile on Legolas. 
"’Tis alright, ‘Las. I like to watch. Especially such gorgeous elves."

Legolas flushed slightly, finding the thought of Elrohir watching, but not touching, 
rather disturbing. And rather arousing.

"You may watch, but do not spend yourself, tôren. You belong to me tonight," 
Elladan ordered, "And I intend to enjoy you."

**And mayhap we will show him, rohir nín.**

Elrohir raised his head quickly, catching Elladan’s eyes.

**Mayhap, melethen.**

Sensing the prince’s discomfort, the elder twin pulled him close, licking and 
nuzzling a sensitive ear. "Do not worry, pen vain," he murmured softly, "I will 
make you forget he is here."

Taking Legolas by the arm, he led him to the large white-draped bed, gently 
pressing the golden prince down to lie on the silky sheets. Stretching out fluidly 
beside the trembling form, Elladan propped himself on one elbow and looked 
down into the archer’s flushed face.

"’Tis alright, anor nín," he whispered, pushing the golden hair back, "Just relax. 
Let me love you." Flickering his gaze to the chair in the shadows, where Elrohir 
sat quietly, the elder twin bent his head to again claim the prince’s lips, one hand 
moving lightly over the flawless ivory chest.

To his own surprise, Legolas did soon forget the watcher in the shadows, his 
attention sharply focused on the pleasurable sensations running through his 
body. Hands, lips and tongue seemed to be everywhere at once, as Elladan 
kissed, licked, suckled and stroked the ivory body into breathless arousal. 

Skillfully unlacing the silky sleep-pants, the dark elf slid them from the slim hips, 
pressing a light kiss to the engorged head of the straining erection that emerged 
insistently. Stretching back up to the pillows like a huge hunting cat, he nipped a 
flushed ear gently and purred, "I want to taste you, pen vain. Then I shall take 
you so hard, you will not find breath to scream."

Legolas whimpered wordlessly, pushing his hips forward in invitation. Stripping 
off his own pants, Elladan lowered his body fully on top of the golden prince, their 
throbbing arousals rubbing together teasingly. 

Kissing the archer deeply, he slid his mouth from lips to throat to chest…down 
the flat ivory-pale abdomen, to the tempting column of hard flesh, flicking his 
tongue through the tantalizing drops of fluid dripping from the slit.

The woodland prince moaned breathlessly, his fingers tangling in the ebony hair, 
trying to force the teasing mouth onto his aching length. "Please," he gasped 
pleadingly, "Please. I hurt…"

Elladan willingly lowered his head, moaning as the silky-hard rod filled his mouth. 
Swirling his tongue over the engorged head and down the throbbing vein, he 
released Legolas’ hips, encouraging him to thrust into the warm mouth.

"Oh gods…yes…’Dan…oh," the golden prince gasped, rocking his hips furiously. 
"Yes…Ai!…"

Seizing the thrusting hips to steady them, Elladan swallowed the turgid length, 
caressing with tongue and throat, sucking hard. Legolas gave a keening cry, his 
body arching off the bed, then sobbed the other’s name as he spilled down the 
pale throat.

The elder twin moved up swiftly between the pale thighs, slicking his own 
weeping shaft with the dripping fluids. Kissing the prince tenderly, he pushed the 
long, muscular legs up over his arms, and entered the relaxed opening in one 
fluid thrust.

Growling low in his throat, Elladan remained still, allowing the archer to adjust to 
his size. When Legolas pushed back against him with a whimper, he lowered the 
straining legs to his waist and began to thrust slowly into the slick, hot passage.

"Valar," the dark elf panted, "Sweet Eru...good…oh, gods!…" Falling into 
wordless groans, Elladan began thrusting faster, pushing more deeply into the 
writhing body.

Long past words, Legolas moaned continually, his arousal once again throbbing, 
pressed tightly between their slickened bodies. Reaching down, the elder twin 
wrapped his hand tightly around the archer’s aching shaft, stroking in fluid 
counterpoint to the increasingly powerful thrusts.

Looking into the dilated emerald eyes, Elladan gasped out, "’Las…now?" his 
movements becoming erratic as he fought to hold back his orgasm.

"Aye…now…oh…oh gods!…’DAN!" the golden prince howled hoarsely, his 
pearly white fluids spurting over the pumping fist. "Ai!"

Elladan gasped harshly as the first spasms kneaded his piercing length, then 
buried himself in the caressing heat with a growl, spilling his seed deep inside the 
golden body.

Collapsing onto the exhausted prince, he nuzzled the flushed throat gently, then 
rolled carefully to the side, pulling Legolas snugly against his chest. "Thank you, 
anor nín," he whispered. "You are magnificent."

"You are quite welcome," the prince murmured against the hard chest. "I have 
never before so enjoyed making a down-payment."

Silently approaching the bed, Elrohir slid in behind Elladan, curling his body 
around his twin. "That was most enjoyable viewing, tôren," he purred, rubbing his 
own erection against the elder twin’s rear. "But for what did I save myself?"

Elladan rolled to his back, pulling Legolas with him, and wrapped an arm around 
the elf-knight, hugging him close. "Let me catch my breath, rohir nín," he said 
with a grin. "Then, if ‘Las agrees, we will show him."

Turning to Legolas with twinkling eyes, the elder twin smirked widely. "What 
about it, gwadoren? Would you like to watch?"

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

Elvish Translations:

gwadoren - my sworn brother
anor nín - my sun
Ada, Adar - Dad, father
híren - my lord
meldir - male friend
mellonen - my friend
el nín - my star
pen vain - beautiful one
tôren - my brother
rohir nín - my knight
melethen - my love
Ai -oh


Chapter 7


**"What about it, gwadoren? Would you like to watch?"**

Legolas sat up, eyes widening, as the question reverberated through his passion-
addled mind.

**"Would you like to watch?"**

Looking at the twins, he found his startled glance returned by two pair of shining 
grey eyes. Though the query was light-hearted, the woodland prince felt 
instinctively that they were offering him a gift, something of a value he did not yet 
understand. Even as he groped for words, enticing images floated before his 
eyes, and he remembered the incredible sensuality of their earlier teasing. "I…I 
do want…but…" he began, hindered by the erotic scenes playing out in his mind, 
"I just…" 

Elladan stretched luxuriously, causing his twin to groan loudly. "Stop twitching so, 
‘Dan," the elf-knight huffed. "Some of us are still waiting for a turn."

The elder twin chuckled, then kissed his brother soundly. "Aye, I know, but you 
will be rewarded for your wait, hmm?" Turning to Legolas, he said "We have 
never allowed another to watch, anor nín. The offer is not made without thought. 
Please…it will help you understand."

Caught in the questioning glances, having no real desire to refuse, the archer 
admitted, "I would like to, if you are sure you do not mind."

Elrohir grinned. "Nay, we do not mind. We are exhibitionists at heart."

As Legolas moved to leave the bed, Elladan caught his arm. "Stay here, beside 
us," he said, his voice soft. "You can touch, if you like."

"And ‘Las," the younger twin added, "Do not be frightened."

The golden prince turned a disbelieving glance on the elf-knight. "Frightened?" 
he repeated, confused. "Elrohir, ‘frightened’ is not the first word to mind when I 
imagine…well, the two of you." Grinning ruefully, he continued, " ‘Frightened’ 
does not even make the short list, mellonen."

Smiling, Elladan said, "I am glad to hear that is so, ernilen. But I will repeat ‘Roh’s 
reassurance. Do not be afraid. There is no danger here."

Legolas nodded, moving toward the edge of the bed, settling with his back 
against the headboard.

Elrohir rolled to his side, pinning his twin down with one strong leg. "We must 
remove these beads and braids, tôren," he breathed, nuzzling the other’s ear, 
expertly untying the tight plaits, loosing the ebony hair. "They are in my way, and 
I have little patience this night."

Reaching up, Elladan freed the elf-knight’s hair, then pulled long fingers through 
the waves left by the braiding. Beads of blue and frosty mithril fell unnoticed to 
the floor as the two identical mouths came together in a kiss that seemed 
endless. Legs entangled, hands stroking, shining black hair running like spilled 
ink over the white silken bedcovers- they became indistinguishable from one 
another, and the watcher gave up guessing, trying instead to calm his own racing 
pulse.

Then one twin raised from the tangle, and through his lust-fogged senses, 
Legolas noticed the mithril ring idly - it was Elrohir who slid sinuously down his 
brother’s body, dark head pausing to tug at the piercing ring, suckle the peaked 
nipples, dip his tongue teasingly into the tempting navel.

Elladan moaned wordlessly as the elf-knight moved over him, kissing and nipping 
the flawless pale skin, leaving a trail of pinked ovals in his wake. When he 
reached his twin’s now weeping length, Elrohir did not stop to tease, but quickly 
covered the swollen head with his mouth, using tongue and lips to caress the 
hardened flesh.

Arching up suddenly with a growl, Elladan pressed further into the slippery 
mouth, gasping as he was forced once again to the bed, hips held firmly by the 
pressure of a strong forearm. "Please, ‘Roh," he panted, "Now…please..."

"Soon, melethen," the elf knight soothed, his own voice shaking, " I do not wish to 
hurt you."

Pushing the tense thighs wider, Elrohir lowered his head, lapping wetly around 
the puckered opening, then pushed his tongue inside, stretching the ring of 
muscle before pressing a slick finger swiftly through.

Elladan let out a strangled yelp, and bore down hard on the intruding finger, 
which was soon joined by more, moving carefully but surely, making him shudder 
helplessly as his pleasure spot was stroked again and again.

From his place at the top of the bed, Legolas watched in awe, his own breath 
rasping, fair skin flushed. With a start he realized he was touching himself, 
fingers slippery with his own oozing fluids. Unable, unwilling to stop, he closed 
his hand around the weeping column, and began to stroke in earnest.

As the prince looked on breathlessly, Elrohir slid quickly back up, capturing 
Elladan’s mouth in a searing kiss. Then suddenly, with a grace that spoke of long 
practice, they rolled smoothly, reversing positions, the elder twin rising now from 
the tangle of limbs to straddle the other.

Legolas gasped wordlessly, unable to tear his eyes from the erotic tableau 
unfolding before him. Desperately trying to stave off his own climax, he found his 
hand unwilling to obey, and as he watched Elladan slowly impale himself on the 
elf-knight’s turgid shaft, the woodland prince spilled over his own hand with a 
hoarse groan. 

Trying to calm his shaken senses, Legolas closed his eyes for a moment, 
concentrating on controlling his ragged breathing. When he opened them again, 
he stared in disbelief. 

Elladan remained motionless, fully lowered onto his brother’s hard length. Their 
hands were joined tightly, and the darkened grey eyes were locked together, 
thoughts flowing almost visibly between them. They seemed to shimmer in the 
dimly lit room.

Legolas hissed suddenly. There was no ‘seem to’ about it. They were glowing- a 
faint silvery sheen that flowed from their joined bodies, brightening even as he 
watched in awe. Shivering slightly, he unthinkingly moved closer, drawn by the 
soft glow…

Sensing the approach, two dark heads turned as one, smiling reassuringly. Two 
hands reached out, as though controlled by one thought, and beckoned him 
closer.

**‘Mirror images,’** Legolas realized with a flash of insight. **‘Puzzle pieces, one 
left, one right…but together now, whole…’**

**Aye, I am that. You do understand.**

The voice echoed in the prince’s head, though no one had spoken.

"Sweet Eru…" he whispered hoarsely. "Elladan? Elrohir?"

"’Tis alright, ‘Las. I am here," two voices answered in unison, and Legolas felt a 
thrill akin to fear run down his spine as the reaching hands caught his, squeezing 
comfortingly. Startled, he stared in wonder as the silvery glow enveloped his 
hands, sending a warm surge along his limbs, and a faint echo of completeness, 
of belonging, through his heart.

Pulling away reluctantly, the golden prince stretched himself along side the pair 
as Elladan began to raise and lower himself on the piercing length, moans and 
growls falling in chorus from the identical mouths, hands moving as though 
choreographed.

Suddenly Elrohir reached out and grasped his brother’s hips, pulling him down 
hard. Fully impaled, the elder twin began to rock rhythmically, head thrown back, 
the ends of his ebony hair moving teasingly across the other’s thighs. Grasping 
his lover’s weeping arousal, the elf-knight began to stroke smoothly, in perfect 
time with the rocking hips, as both whimpered wordlessly in shared pleasure.

Legolas watched in amazement as they moved together, more perfectly 
synchronized than any two could be, until with a single, blended cry they came 
together, iridescent white seed spilling in and between at the same instant.

Falling heavily on Elrohir’s chest, Elladan lay still for a moment before slowly 
lifting himself from his twin’s softening length and collapsing on the bed. 
Wordlessly, he pulled Legolas over to lie between them, and in tandem each twin 
placed a leg over the prince, then lowered a flushed face to nuzzle the golden 
hair.

"Did I frighten you?" both voices asked gently, and the woodland prince shivered 
again at the terrifying unity. "No…" he began, then went on, "Well, not much 
anyway."

Stereo chuckles greeted his confession, and Legolas snuggled deeper in the 
bed, a hand on each pale chest. After a while, the prince noticed the twins were 
no longer moving and speaking as one, and found he was both relieved and, 
surprisingly, a little melancholy. He sensed the bittersweet quality of their joining. 
The completeness was all too fleeting. Impulsively, he hugged both twins tightly, 
and whispered, "Hannon chen," pressing a warm kiss to each pale neck.

"Nach maetolo, mellonen," the elf-knight answered softly, lips brushing an ear tip.

Elladan smiled, running his fingers across a high cheekbone. "Nach maetolo, 
‘Las."

Stretching with feline grace, Elrohir sat up and grinned. "Anyone else for 
miruvor?" he asked teasingly. "I believe I was promised honey butter with my 
miruvor, and I have yet to taste either this night."

Legolas shook his head in amusement. "You are insatiable. Both of you. We shall 
none of us be able to rise tomorrow." Grinning at the elf-knight, he answered, 
"Aye, go get the miruvor, ‘Roh. I could use a drink." Looking down, the prince 
continued with a snort, "I could also use a wash."

"Aye, and a clean sheet," Elladan chuckled, tugging the silky fabric from under 
Legolas. "Go to your wash, gwadoren, and I will spread us a some clean linen."

Padding to the bathing room, the prince filled a basin with warm water and 
gratefully scrubbed himself clean, enjoying the heady scent of the herbs and oils 
stored in the room. Elladan entered the chamber as he was drying, and filled the 
basin anew, adding several drops of a fragrant oil to the warm water. 

Sniffing appreciatively, Legolas asked, "What is that scent, ‘Dan? It smells of 
...well, of Imladris. Like waterfalls, and evergreens, and such."

The elder twin slicked several streaks of the oil on the archer’s chest, clearly 
pleased with his recognition of the scent. "Actually, it is made from the oil of a 
tree that grows here, high on the hills. But I agree, it smells like the hidden vale."

Elrohir entered the room to wash, and voiced his agreement. "Aye, it smells like 
home," he said, washing quickly in the steaming water. "’Tis the oil we take with 
us most often when we leave."

Returning to the sleeping chamber, Legolas found the bed covered in silky black 
linens, and the miruvor and glasses placed on the bed table. Pouring three 
generous servings of the cordial, he picked up one glass and settled comfortably 
onto the clean bed.

Coming through the door, Elladan and Elrohir stopped a moment and stared.

**He goes very well with black, hmm, ‘Roh?**

**Indeed he does. Black, ivory, and gold. Very nice. We must remember.**

Legolas turned a rueful grin on the pair. "Do I even want to know what thoughts 
you two are flinging around?" he asked with a pretend grimace.

Elladan laughed softly, placing the oil vial he carried in his hand on the table. 
"Well, no, probably not. You would blush, I fear."

Raising a golden eyebrow, Legolas looked pointedly at the oil container. "Oil, 
‘Dan? For whose benefit?"

The elder twin chuckled. "On general principle, mellonen. I would have it that we 
could all walk tomorrow."

Taking up their drinks, the twins lowered themselves fluidly to the bed, one on 
each side of the woodland prince. As they sipped the potent miruvor, talking 
quietly, Legolas let his mind wander back to the first miruvor they had shared in 
these chambers. 

Wondering idly if he had made the right decision that night - and all the nights 
after - he sighed. Surprisingly, he was as comfortable sitting here as he always 
had been with the twins. At this moment, it was almost as if nothing had 
changed. **'Except we are all naked'**, he observed with a muffled snort.

Elladan looked at him expectantly. "What is funny, ‘Las?"

"My mind is just wandering. I fear I have had as much miruvor as is good for me," 
Legolas answered, extending his body sensuously to put down his glass.

"Good," Elrohir purred, sliding up beside the prince and setting down the other 
two glasses. "Because I am ready for my honey butter."

Later, Legolas would wonder with amazement what had possessed his body. At 
the moment, he was conscious only of a sudden wave of burning lust. "And I am 
in the mood for my cinnamon bun… split," the woodland prince growled, 
straddling the elf-knight’s thighs, pulling a willing Elladan closer so he could sit 
astride both.

Rendered boneless by shock, the twins lay back against the pillows in 
amazement as the archer kissed each senseless, then began a lazy journey 
down both pale throats, nipping and sucking the skin to a rosy hue, mouth 
moving steadily from one to the other.

"Elbereth, " Elladan gasped, "What are you doing, ‘Las?"

"Do you want me to stop?" the prince murmured, never slowing in his attack.

"Gods, no," Elrohir breathed, straining closer to the ravenous mouth.

"So shut up," Legolas growled, then lifted his head with a grin. "Please?"

Without waiting for a reply, the woodland prince pulled the dark heads close 
together, his tongue flicking invitingly over swollen lips. Both mouths opened 
willingly, and three tongues wrestled together briefly, arranging themselves for a 
deeper kiss, teeth clinking and nipping gently.

Pulling away with a groan, Legolas left the twins to their kiss as he moved his 
mouth down to the shining mithril rings that pierced the dusky nipples, pulling 
with his teeth sharply, then soothing the sensitive peaks with his tongue, rolling 
the unpierced nipples roughly between his fingers.

Moaning wordlessly into Elrohir’s mouth, Elladan broke away from the kiss and 
reached to tangle his hand in the golden mane, only to be gently pushed away. 
"Nay, touching not allowed," the prince gasped, his own emerald-dark eyes 
locking with the dilated pupils above him. "’Tis not fair if I cannot move."

"Then move!" Elrohir hissed, struggling to push his hips forward, "For the love of 
Arda, move..."

Legolas shot a wicked grin at the frustrated elf-knight, stroking the twin flat 
stomachs lightly, causing the muscles to twitch and jump.

"’Las..." Elladan rasped warningly, "You are..." then quickly howled, 
"Ai!…yes…yes…" as the prince swiftly grasped a straining erection in each hand, 
moving to tease first one, then the other with flicking tongue and firm lips, moving 
back and forth swiftly between identical bodies.

Panting harshly as the warm mouth moved to engulf him, Elrohir whimpered, 
"Don’t stop...please…" his body writhing erratically under the sensual assault.

Pressing a final soft kiss to each weeping slit, Legolas reached for the oil, turning 
his lust-darkened eyes on the gasping twins as he slicked his own aching 
member lavishly, shuddering at the sensation. "Pick a side," he whispered 
hoarsely, gaze flicking between two pair of grey eyes, both now midnight-dark.

Wordlessly Elladan took the oil and poured a generous amount in his hand, then 
reached over and spread it on Elrohir’s engorged flesh, drawing a shuddering 
groan from the elf-knight. Then, pulling his hair over one shoulder, the eldest twin 
started to drop to his knees and elbows, but was stopped by a soft word from 
Legolas.

"Not like that, please…I want to hold you," the prince murmured, pulling the dark 
elf down onto the bed, then spooning closely behind him, wrapping him in a snug 
embrace. Burying his face in the silky black hair, Legolas gently forced the 
other’s leg forward, then flexed his own hips sharply, sliding into the welcoming 
heat with a shuddering gasp.

Elrohir quickly curled around the archer, lifting one of the ivory legs forward to 
drape over Elladan, then guided his own turgid length to the loosened entrance 
and pushed inside, growling low in his throat as the silken walls surrounded him. 
Wrapping a strong arm around both of the elves before him, the elf-knight 
pressed a kiss to the golden hair, then began moving with shallow thrusts.

Legolas pushed back against Elrohir with a groan, then began to rock his hips in 
counterpoint to the elf-knight’s small, rapid thrusts, pushing up into the silken 
passage before him, then back to impale himself on the hard flesh.

Elladan let out a ragged gasp, and began pushing back rhythmically onto the 
prince’s throbbing erection, nearly sobbing with pleasure when Legolas reached 
down to stroke his aching length in an oil-slick hand. Struggling to hold on, he 
panted breathlessly, "Too much…I am going to…can’t wait…"

"’Go ahead, pen vain, " Legolas gasped, licking a flushed ear tip wetly, "Spill for 
me…let me feel you come…"

With a final sobbing moan, the elder twin pushed back against the prince and 
came hard, pearly fluid spurting freely over the pumping hand, onto his own 
stomach. As the warm cream spilled over his hand, Legolas let go a keening wail 
and thrust forcefully into the convulsing passage, his own climax ripped from him 
by the violently pulsing warmth.

Elrohir managed only a few more thrusts into the caressing heat before he too let 
go, spilling his seed deep inside the prince’s body with a guttural moan.

Panting for breath, the three laid motionless until their hearts ceased racing, and 
their harsh breathing became quiet. Moving reluctantly, they separated, then 
snuggled close together again as warm waves of weariness overcame them. 
Legolas sat up sleepily and pulled the silky bed coverings over their exhausted 
bodies. As he drifted off to sleep, his last drowsy thought was of the morning. 

**Tomorrow we talk…**

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

Elvish Translations:

gwadoren - my sworn brother
anor nín - my sun
mellonen - my friend
ernilen - my prince
el nín - my star
rohir nín - my knight
melethen - my love 
tôren - my brother
Hannon chen - Thank you
Nach maetolo - You are welcome
Ai - oh
Pen vain- beautiful one



Chapter 8

Legolas stared at the arches in the dim morning light, unable to rest despite the 
early hour. Surrounded by warm skin and silken hair, he could feel the gentle rise 
and fall of Elrohir’s chest beneath his own hand, and the steady beat of Elladan’s 
heart thudded softly against his back.

The prince had never felt so secure, so at home - nor so apprehensive. He 
looked toward the promised talk with fearful anticipation. There were questions 
that begged answers, and yet the very explanations he sought seemed to 
threaten his current state of sweet contentment. 

Moving carefully, so as not to wake the deeply sleeping twins, Legolas slipped 
out the bottom of the bed, going to the bathing chamber for a quick wash. 
Returning, he searched the wardrobe, snaring a light outfit of shirt and leggings 
to don in place of his formal wear from the previous evening, and went quietly 
into the den, pulling the heavy door silently closed behind him.

Dressing quickly, the woodland prince tied his unbraided hair back loosely in a 
knot, then headed for the balcony, drawn by the first slivers of pink and gold in 
the dawn sky. Standing in the cool fragrant air, he closed his eyes, concentrating 
on the faint roar of the waterfalls, then the first stirrings of birdsong, and 
thankfully felt some of his anxiety drain away. 

Legolas moved back into the chamber, starting a small fire to dispel the chill that 
had come in with the night. To his surprise, there was a soft knock on the door. 
Uncertain- and decidedly unready to face Lord Elrond at dawn, dressed in 
borrowed clothing, with the twins still asleep- the prince stood still, but when the 
knock was repeated, he went to the door, fearing the sound would wake Elladan 
and Elrohir.

To the archer’s surprise, it was Glorfindel who stood outside the door, dressed 
like the prince in leggings and light shirt, his glorious golden hair tied back in a 
simple strip of leather. 

"May I join you, ernilen?" the elder asked quietly, smiling. "I brought tea, and a 
pre-breakfast morsel," he continued, indicating the laden tray in his hands.

"Of course," Legolas said, opening the door wide. "Did I wake you, híren?"

"Nay, pen neth, you did not," the Balrog-slayer chuckled softly. "I have been a 
dawn riser through two lifetimes. I will not stop just because Erestor is a slug. I 
noticed you on the balcony, and feared you would not feel free to go to the 
kitchen for tea."

"Hannon chen, mellonen," the prince replied, warmed by the thoughtfulness 
evident in the elder’s gesture. "Come sit by the fire with me for a while, if you 
will."

"Aye, I will. I take it that the twins are still abed? They are sometimes slug-like, 
also, I fear, though only at home," Glorfindel twinkled, settling himself in a chair. 
"But in their defense, I would wager the three of you had a late night last eve. 
Spirits were certainly high in the dining hall, at any rate."

Blushing furiously, Legolas could think of no answer that would not cause more 
embarrassment, so he nodded silently, handing the elder a cup of tea. 

Looking carefully at the prince, Glorfindel smothered a kindly smile. "I meant no 
harm, meldir," he said gently. "You have not exactly been secretive. And you can 
hardly blame me for drawing the obvious conclusion, when you are in the rooms 
of the gwanûn at dawn, wearing their clothing…and the marks of their teeth, I 
might add," he finished with a grin.

"Oh, Valar’s light," Legolas groaned, mortified. "Is the whole of Imladris 
discussing me?"

"If they are, it is in jealousy, pen neth," the elder elf replied soothingly. "Do not 
distress yourself."

Nodding silently, Legolas sipped his tea, watching as Glorfindel uncovered a dish 
of strawberries, a plate of sweet muffins, and a crock of blackberry jam. 

The Balrog-slayer spread a split muffin generously with the jam, and handed it to 
the prince with a smile. "Eat something, Legolas," he insisted gently. "I sense 
tension in you this day. You will be better able to face whatever is ahead with a 
bit of food in your stomach."

The golden prince reluctantly accepted the sweet roll, and was surprised to find 
that he really did feel somewhat better after a few bites. Smiling gratefully at the 
golden elder, he said, "It does help, at that. I am thankful for your care, and your 
company, Glorfindel."

"You are welcome to both," the elder answered with a smile. "All of us enjoy 
having you in the hidden valley."

After a few minutes comfortable silence, during which both elves finished their 
sweets, Legolas looked at the Balrog-slayer curiously. "Glorfindel," he began 
hesitantly, "I would like to ask you something. If you feel it would be disloyal to 
answer, tell me, and we will forget the query."

The elder elf nodded expectantly, waiting for the prince to continue. Taking a 
deep breath, Legolas asked, "’Dan and ‘Roh, do they often…well, take other 
lovers?"

"Besides yourself, you mean?" Glorfindel questioned. When the woodland prince 
nodded, he replied. "There are several answers to that question, ernilen. Aye, 
they do occasionally take another to their bed. But I have never before seen 
them choose a close friend, such as yourself. Nor have I ever seen them hold to 
a third as they have you. Such a liaison is usually far more fleeting."

Legolas nodded thoughtfully, then the two sat in companionable silence, drinking 
tea, each occupied with his own musings. 

Both looked up when the bed chamber door swung open quietly. Elladan walked 
into the den, stretching lazily. He was dressed only in leggings, and his raven 
locks hung unbraided, not quite concealing the wealth of nips and faint bruises 
that decorated his neck. Smiling warmly, the elder twin came to the fire and 
settled himself easily into the large chair beside Legolas, pressing a soft kiss to 
the surprised prince’s mouth. "Good morning, anor nín," he murmured, before 
turning to the Balrog-slayer, who sat watching the exchange with frank curiosity 
on his face.

"Good morning, Glorfindel," Elladan said with a grin. "Up early as usual, hmm, 
meldir?"

"Aye, I am. And a good thing, too, or your prince would have been without tea 
while waiting for you sluggards," the elder replied teasingly.

"Can you not wait ‘til after breakfast to insult us, mellonen?" Elrohir chuckled, 
strolling into the room. Like his twin, he wore only leggings, but had taken time to 
pull his hair back in a careless braid. Joining the group at the fire, he threw 
himself unceremoniously into Elladan’s lap, his legs falling across the prince’s 
body. Leaning forward, the elf-knight planted a tender, but far more than friendly, 
kiss on Legolas’ lips, bringing another faint blush to the fair face. "Mornin’ ‘Las," 
he said sweetly, then turned and kissed Elladan warmly. "Good morning, el nín."

"No, I cannot wait, and a good morning to you, also," Glorfindel teased. " Will I 
see the three of you at breakfast?" the elder queried, "Or would you prefer that I 
have something brought to your chambers?"

"That would be most appreciated, meldir," Elladan said gratefully. "We have 
much to discuss this day, and the sooner we may start, the earlier we shall 
finish."

"I will see to it, then pen neth," the Balrog-slayer responded, rising fluidly to his 
feet. "I must go assure myself that Erestor is among the moving, then I will order 
your meal." Turning to Legolas, he smiled kindly. "Thank you for your company, 
ernilen. I have enjoyed our time together."

The golden prince smiled in return. "As have I híren. Give Erestor my greetings."

After Glorfindel departed, an uneasy silence fell over the trio left by the fire. 
Pulling himself up with a sigh, Elrohir headed for the bed chamber. "We should 
finish our morning ablutions, ‘Dan, before breakfast arrives," the elf-knight said. 
"Come and dress, so we can braid and be done with it."

"Aye, I suppose you are right," the elder twin agreed, squeezing the prince’s 
shoulder warmly before rising from the chair. "We will come in here to braid and 
bead, ‘Las, if you want to remain by the fire."

Legolas nodded and settled back in the chair, watching the flames dance in the 
fireplace. So intent was he on his musings that he did not notice the twins had 
returned until they dropped to the cushions in front of the fire, brush and beads in 
hand. Glancing up, he saw that they were once again dressed alike, this time in 
thin, dark-grey leggings and deep blue shirts, a darker echo of the light grey and 
blue clothing he had borrowed from their wardrobe.

As Elladan braided his twin’s hair, slipping mithril beads into the ebony plaits, he 
turned to the prince. "’Las, we will braid your hair, if you wish," he offered, raising 
both eyebrows in question.

Hesitating only briefly, Legolas replied with a smile, "Aye, I would like that." 
Lowering himself to the floor beside the brothers, he watched the elder twin 
complete the elf-knight’s braids with practiced ease.

"Now, for you, pen vain," Elrohir said with a grin. With two pair of hands working, 
it was only a few minutes before the pale golden hair hung perfectly brushed and 
braided. As the woodland prince stood, his braids swung forward, and to his 
surprise he found they were dotted with beads, alternating lapis lazuli and mithril.

In answer to the arch of a golden eyebrow, Elladan grinned widely. "They go with 
the clothes, ‘Las," he explained innocentl