*Title: The Early Years: For the Sake of Friendship (Complete)

*Author: Minuial Nuwing

*Contact: minuial_nuwing@...

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

*Rating: NC-17 overall

*Type: FPS

*Pairing: Glorfindel/Elladan/Elrohir, Elladan/Elrohir

*Warning: Very graphic slash and explicit TWINCEST- if this squicks you, 
please don’t read it ;)

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

*Feedback: Makes me smile, and write faster…

*Summary: The twins come of age, and Elrond asks a favor of Glorfindel.
A tale from the days before ‘Princes Three’, but it will stand alone.

*Beta: Fimbrethiel (Bless you, meldis)

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

This tale is quite different in style and form from the others in the ‘Early
Years’ series. The POV shifts in first-person between characters during the prologue before settling into third-person for the 'initiation'.  The later sections return to first-person POV.

*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!


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

**The Early Years: For the Sake of Friendship**


*…"You recall that he made a jest about changing our diapers?" Elladan
asked, watching Legolas closely. When the prince nodded, he continued,
"Glorfindel did much for us, gwadoren. He was our tutor in many
things…archery, sword-play…bed-play." Touching the left side of his own
chest, the dark elf smiled slightly at the dawning amazement in the archer’s
eyes. "This ring is for him, ‘Las. Glorfindel was our first."

"Together?" Legolas practically squeaked. "You had your majority rites
together? With Glorfindel?"…

---Princes Three: The Beginning, Chapter 10*

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

**Thoughts**


~Elrond~

He looks at me in horror, as though I have asked him to slay my sons, rather
than bed them. Sapphire-blue eyes wide, mouth open in wordless disbelief,
hands raised in a symbolic gesture of protection…

‘Twould be amusing, were the request any less serious.

Finally my fearless captain finds his usually over-merry tongue. “Do not
ask this of me, mellonen,” he says hoarsely. “I cannot.”

“But of whom shall I ask it then, Glorfindel? Erestor?” I thought not.
That question has brought a smile of sorts to his face, however. The very
thought of his calm, reserved lover being in this position…ludicrous!

My chief advisor would die of mortification were I to broach the subject,
however gently. He would help plan the feast, prepare the rooms, even aid the
gwanûn in dressing…but he would cheerfully fall upon his own sword before
agreeing to be *the one*.

I only hope Glorfindel does not share his sentiment.

For I need him. I need his warmth, and experience, and his caring. I need
the very part of him that makes the idea so abhorrent. I need his love for
my sons.

I will not have them suffer as Elros and I did…unguided, confused and
ashamed…though the shame was not of Maglor’s making. He knew, understood in
some small way, for he was witness to the bond between his own brothers.
But he was haunted, cursed by an oath that damned him whether broken or
fulfilled, and his own misery granted him little time to ponder ours.

I cannot blame Maglor.

Nor can I allow my pain to become theirs. I will not see them sundered
beyond the ending of time, their bond sacrificed on the altar of
predestined duty, or denied for the sake of propriety and procreation. I
would have their faer whole, and their days joyous.

And I would have them with me always.


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


~Glorfindel~


I am speechless, and the fact amuses him, lending a touch of lightness to an
otherwise tense moment. What Elrond asks of me…it is too much. The gwanûn
are nearly as my own. I have changed their diapers and dried their tears,
taught them to fight, hunt, and jest…

How can he ask me to take them to my bed?

“But of whom shall I ask it then, Glorfindel?” he retorts calmly.
“Erestor?”

The thought is humorous, even in the midst of such solemn discussion, and a
slight smile spreads across both our faces. My beloved is rather ill
suited for such a task.

Erestor loves the gwanûn, and they respect him as their elder and their
tutor,but I have taught them too well, I fear. Elrohir has already
mastered the art of making the stoic chief advisor blush, and
Elladan…Elladan…

Absolutely not.

Thranduil, mayhap? But this suggestion, too, comes to naught. The king
cannot leave his queen, who is near bursting with their first-begotten, and
It is unthinkable that the gwanûn should go to Taur-na-Fuin, to be so far
from home for such a momentous occasion.

He repeats the question, and still I have no answer, save one. Not of me.
Do not ask this of *me*. I love them almost as my own, and I would die in
their stead, but I cannot do this. What he asks…’tis unimaginable…’tis…

It is almost incestuous.

I have hurt him with my thoughtless protest. The grey eyes flash with pain,
and I suddenly realize the magnitude of my mistake.

“Then I could as well do it myself, meldir?” Elrond asks quietly, his face
drawn. “Is that what you imply? That there is little difference in
bedding my brother and bedding my sons?”

Nay, of course not! Geheno nin, mellonen. Of course not. But do not ask
this of me…

He is asking. Pleading. Not as my lord, but as my friend. My sworn
brother. ‘For the sake of friendship‘, he begs.

I cannot. *I can not.*

But I will.


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

~Elladan~


At first, I felt surely I had misunderstood. Glorfindel? *Glorfindel?*

The mind reels. That Ada should ask…that Glorfindel should *agree*…amazing…

We have discussed this day for nigh on a century, of course, ‘Roh and I.
How is it for those who have no twin to share their thoughts and fears, I
wonder? How do they bear the tension?

Ada has talked of the rites, many times…we are not unaware of the ways of
the flesh, though our experience is less than scant. I know, in theory,
what will take place after the feasting is done.

**Feasting of a different sort, hmm, ‘Dan?**

**Go away, ‘Roh. I am trying to order my own thoughts. I do not need the
complication of yours.**

**But what about sharing our thoughts and fears, hmm, tôren? You said…**

**Elrohir!**

**Going…I am going…grumpy…**  

My brother. Impulsive, hotheaded, exasperating…and beautiful. So very
beautiful. I sometimes think all of Elvendom must wear blinders. How can
any mistake my countenance for his? He glows with a passion for life, a
*goodness* that leaves me humbled.

From our birth, Ada has told us of our shared faer, encouraged us to depend
on one another, and chastened those who would separate us. Recently he has
spoken frankly of our faer’s fusing. The joining of our bodies. The
sealing of our bond.

The thought fills me with both yearning and fear. I have never slept alone.
Always, ‘Roh has been there, curled tight against me. But we have never
touched in that way, never kissed as other than brothers, though we oft
pleasured ourselves together, the sights and sounds of the other sweetening
our release.

Still, our fumbling adolescent fancies, such as they were, have been spent
elsewhere. Not that there has been any lack of temptation in our bed. To
hold him, his skin hot against mine, his scent surrounding me…Elbereth knows
how I have been tempted! How *we* have been tempted. But Ada bade us
promise to wait, counseling us not to dabble, lest the need of our faer to
be whole overcome us.

And so we have resisted, waiting for the time when we could join without
censure.

Waiting for today.


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


~Elrohir~


We are to be together, then for our rites. With Glorfindel. *Glorfindel?*

He has been our mentor, our tutor, our friend…but our bed-teacher? Our
*lover?*

‘Dan is right. The mind reels. The body, however, is not displeased.

I have awaited this day impatiently for a century or more, yet now that it
is here, I am torn between longing and dread. I would have it done and
over. We are expected to lie with the one chosen this night. ‘Tis
tradition. Ritual. And all of Imladris will know, and wonder - quietly,
with the utmost propriety, of course - what sort of showing we made.

But our fusing is for us alone. We are obligated to no day, obliged to
tell no one.

Ada has spoken to us of the glow, the merging of thoughts and movement…the
doubling of pleasure. The idea of joining with my twin is both mesmerizing
and terrifying.

He is breathtaking, my brother. Thoughtful, diplomatic, utterly
exasperating…and so very beautiful. I fail to see him in myself, though
others often mistake us. He shines with a gentle authority, a fierce
nobility that leaves me awed to be thought his equal.

I could lose myself in him. In his eyes, his voice. His arms.

The pull of our bond has been strong, these last years. We have lain in our
bed, curled together as always, aching to touch, to taste, to devour. And
we have resisted faithfully, soothing the tension with gentle teasing, or
releasing it in frenzied bouts of shared self-pleasuring, ever waiting for
the day when we would be free to slake our hunger.

Waiting for today.




--Elvish Translations:

mellonen - my friend
gwanûn - twins
Taur-na-Fuin - Mirkwood (wood of nightshade)
meldir - friend (male)
Geheno nin - Forgive me
tôren - my brother


***Initiation***


*Imladris 630 III*


“Do the gwanûn know it is you who will be joining them after the feasting,
cousin?” Gildor asked quietly, golden braids swinging as he leaned forward,
his lyrical voice carrying no further than his companion’s ear.

“Aye, they do,” Glorfindel sighed. “But only since the nooning. Elrond did
not wish to tell them too early, lest…” Ending abruptly, he turned to face his kinsman, sapphire-blue eyes narrowed ominously. “How did *you* know? It 
was not meant to be general knowledge.”

“Peace, mellonen,” Gildor soothed, toying with the remains of his
meal. “It was not hard to deduce, from my vantage point.” Pausing to take a
sip of his dessert wine, Gildor offered his reasoning, answering the wry
arch of a golden eyebrow.

“’Tis not me, *that* I know, though many speculate that I am the chosen one.
Elrond is their adar, Celeborn their iauradar. Haldir is rather young,
and quite arrogant- he would be a bad choice, and the Lord of Imladris does
not make bad choices. Thranduil is not here.”

Raising a hand as Glorfindel opened his mouth to object, the now
grinning gypsy-elf continued, “That leaves only three elves of suitable
merit and station - Lindir, Erestor, and yourself.” His grin becoming a
wolfish smirk, Gildor added, “I happen to be privy to Lindir’s plans for the
evening, and they do not include the young princes. Erestor would face an
army of Balrogs ere he would agree to lie with the gwanûn, and Elrond well
knows it. And that, my dear cousin,” Gildor finished triumphantly, “leaves
you.”

“It is an honor I would rather let pass,” Glorfindel retorted under his
breath as he rose from the table to follow the gathered crowd to the Hall of
Fire. “If you are agreeable, I would gladly talk with Elrond.”

Grasping Glorfindel’s arm lightly, his kinsman drew him toward a window
seat slightly removed from the festivities. “You would do that to the
gwanûn, meldir?” Gildor asked seriously, his deep blue eyes questioning. 
In answer to Glorfindel’s confused frown, he elaborated, “They
are expecting **you**, not me, cousin. I wager they would be hurt deeply by
your refusal. It would be as though you had found them wanting in some way.”

“Nay, I do not find the gwanûn wanting,” Glorfindel sighed, twisting
his own golden mane restlessly. “I find *myself* disconcerted at the
thought of bedding them. They are nearly as my own, Gildor.”

“But they are *not* your own,” Gildor returned firmly. “And for
tonight, you must try to look at them with the eyes of a bed-mate, not an
uncle, though your mind protests. They are elflings no longer, Glorfindel,
and they are very fair, indeed. Look at them.”

“Gildor is right, melethen,” Erestor agreed, appearing quietly from the
shadows. “You cannot fail Elrond, or the gwanûn.” Pressing a reassuring
kiss to his lover’s mouth, Erestor settled into the seat.

Prompted by his determined companions, Glorfindel turned his attention to
the great fireplace, where the twins held court, graciously bearing the
good-natured heckling of the crowd. Forcing back memories of piggyback
rides and bedtime stories, he looked intently at the sons of
his liege-lord.

The brethren stood side by side before the fire, the flickering light
warming their pale skin. Midnight dark hair, glossy as a raven‘s
wing, hung to the middle of their backs, the silken strands glinting with
red highlights in the fire’s glow. The warrior’s braids they had so
recently earned flashed with familiar beads- deep blue lapis lazuli for
Elladan, icy mithril for Elrohir.

Dressed in varying shades of blue and grey, the twins were a stunning sight,
their mortal blood lending an attractive broadness to their shoulders,
though they had not yet attained the full size and strength that time and
training would grant.

Running his eyes over them appraisingly, as he had once measured possible
tryst-mates, Glorfindel found his attention captured by long muscular legs,
encased in snug leather. “You are right, Gildor,” Glorfindel said
thoughtfully. “They are very fair indeed.”

“Do not get carried away, melethron,” Erestor interjected wryly. “I would
have you appreciate them, no more.”

A smile twitching on his lips, Glorfindel turned to his lover,
drawing him into a heated kiss. With complete disregard for Gildor’s
presence and Erestor’s blushing protests, he then nipped and suckled
an exuberant red-purple bruise on the translucent skin of the counselor’s
neck. “How could I do more than appreciate their beauty, pen vain?” he
purred, nuzzling a flushed ear. “You are my only infatuation.”

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

“What sort of ‘preparations’ do you suppose Erestor has made?” Elrohir
said curiously as the twins approached their chambers, having left the Hall
as early as diplomacy allowed.

Elladan shook his head helplessly. “I do not know, tôren,” he replied
somewhat anxiously. “As long as there are no swags and ribbons, I will be
well pleased.”

“Erestor would not do such a thing to us, surely,” Elrohir chuckled
half-heartedly. “Rose petals, mayhap, but…”

“Do not say such a thing, ‘Roh, even in jest,” Elladan admonished.
“Can you imagine you and me - not to mention *Glorfindel*- rolling around in
a pile of flowers?” Shuddering, he added, “’Tis grounds for a nightmare.”

Lacing his fingers with Elrohir’s, Elladan paused in front of the door to
their chambers. “Shall we face the preparations?” he asked jokingly, one
hand on the latch.

The elf-knight nodded wordlessly, and the door swung open on command.
Sighing with relief, then pleasure, the twins looked upon Erestor’s
handiwork. A fire crackled merrily in the fireplace, giving off a rich,
spicy scent of fragrant evergreens. On the table a large tray waited, laden
with cheese, fruit, and a lifelong favorite of the twins - dark ginger
cookies. A bottle of miruvor and three glasses stood near the platter.

“Look, ‘Dan,” Elrohir said, nodding toward the chair pulled up in front of
the fire. “Is that a form of instruction, do you think?”

Following his brother’s gaze to the fire, Elladan saw that sleep
pants and robes had been laid out to warm. “I daresay it is,” he
answered slowly. “Or at least a thoughtful suggestion.”

“Shall we, then?” Elrohir asked, offering one set of the silky black
garments to his twin as both headed for the bedchamber.

Further surprises awaited them in the sleeping room. Here, too, a fire
crackled in the hearth. The bed had been made fresh with deep blue 
linens, the top coverlet turned back invitingly. Candles of all 
shapes and sizes were in place around the room, waiting only to be 
lit. But the items that gave the most pause sat beside the bed. A small 
bottle of oil, and a jar of soothing salve.

Identical silver-grey glances met and held wordlessly, before the twins
turned back to the fire, and the task of removing beads and braids. “Mayhap
we should leave one side in, tôren,” Elrohir said suddenly. “It will make it
easier to tell us apart.”

“Does it matter, do you think?” Elladan mused, one elegant eyebrow arched
questioningly.

“It may matter to Glorfindel,” the elf-knight pointed out with a grin.
“Leave in the right, and I shall leave in the left.”

Undressing quickly, they slipped into the night pants, the heated fabric
gliding comfortingly over their skin. “It was thoughtful of Erestor to have
the chambermaid warm them,” Elladan commented, tying the robe loosely
at his waist.

“It was,” Elrohir agreed, belting his own robe carelessly. Turning a
curious gaze on his brother, he queried, “Do you think he minds,
‘Dan? Erestor, I mean?”

“I think he is profoundly grateful that Ada did not ask *him*,” Elladan
chuckled. “I do not think he minds, but he will no doubt be glad to have
this night over.”

“As will I,” Elrohir said with a deep sigh. “Come on,” he urged,
pulling his brother toward the chamber door. “We will have some miruvor,
and wait by the fire.”

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

Glasses had been emptied, refilled and emptied again, leaving the twins
pleasantly relaxed as they curled together in their oversized chair. “I
feel remarkably better,” Elrohir said with a smile. “Do you?”

“I do,” Elladan agreed, wrapping his arms more tightly around his
brother. “’Tis a marvelous thing, miruvor.”

Resting his chin on the elf-knight’s head, Elladan stared quietly into the
flames, warmed by both the fire’s heat and the fierce glow of the cordial.
Idly stroking the silken fabric beneath his hand, he was jerked back to full
awareness by his brother’s sharp intake of breath to find Elrohir’s robe
parted, and his own fingers drawing slow circles on his twin’s hard stomach.

Stilling the hypnotic movement, Elladan looked down into darkening
grey eyes and opened his mouth to speak, only to be silenced by a firm hand
upon his lips.

**Hush, tôren. And do not stop.**

Elrohir shifted in the embrace, his fingers slipping from Elladan’s mouth to
tangle in the silken ebony strands that fell forward between them. Tugging
gently, he pulled his brother’s head down until their lips met in a
tentative kiss, soft and nearly chaste in its tenderness, yet breathtaking
in its intimacy.

As they parted, the elf-knight was aware of little but the fierce pounding
in his own chest, echoed by the rapid thudding of Elladan’s heart. Drawing
a shuddery breath, he raised his eyes to meet a molten silver gaze, darkened
by pleasure-widened pupils and glowing with unmistakable emotion. As if in
confirmation, a single word swirled through his mind.

**More.**

Elladan slid his hand to the nape of Elrohir’s neck, idly stroking
the soft skin as their mouths met again, light nibbling kisses quickly
giving way to languidly stroking tongues as lips and teeth parted willingly.
Both gasped as a searing heat raced through their bodies, leaving them
tingling with desire in its wake.

Elladan felt as though his blood were on fire, his hands moving of their own
volition to stroke and explore his brother’s hot skin. His mind reeled, a
hopeless jumble of seething lust and stark fear, as the pull of the bond
strengthened until only one coherent thought remained: **Inside. I need to
be inside.** The words echoed tantalizingly in his own head, and he felt
as though his heart might fail when a reply crawled seductively through 
his mind.

**Yes, tôren. Yes…**

Suddenly the chamber rang with a noise like thunder, temporarily driving away 
all ideas of caresses and joinings. Jumping up in alarm, the twins looked 
toward the source of the sound in consternation that quickly gave way to amused annoyance.

On the balcony lay one of Mithrandir’s famous fireballs, gaily sending out a
shower of silver and blue stars. The skies above Imladris were alight with
blossoms of many colors, their sweet smell noticeable even indoors. Stars
Varda had never intended burst into blue and silver light, and a herd of
ghostly horses galloped wildly across the night sky.

One eyebrow arched ruefully, Elrohir turned to his twin. “Do you suppose
it was a coincidence? Or a reminder from the fool wizard that we have
company coming?”

Elladan shrugged, a grin beginning to spread over his face. “Whichever, I
suppose we owe him at least a word. Glorfindel could have found himself
unnecessary.”

“Which would *not* have pleased Ada, I daresay,” Elrohir chuckled,
heading for the balcony.

Leaning over the railing, the twins easily spotted the wizard, eye-catching
as ever in his grey hat and robes. “Good evening, Mithrandir,” Elladan
called cheerfully.

“And a good evening to you, ernilen,” the wizard returned, a twinkle in his
eye. “Have you enjoyed the fireworks?”

“We have, indeed,” Elrohir replied, “Though the fireball on the balcony was
a bit surprising.”

“Merely a sure method of drawing your attention, my friends,” Mithrandir
chuckled. Raising one bushy eyebrow wryly, he added, “I feared you might be
heavily engaged in other pursuits. This *fool wizard* knows a bit of the
world, and much that is in it. Including elven twins.”

Abashed, the twins glanced at one another, cheeks burning, before smiling
weakly at their friend.

“'Tis as it should be, younglings,” Mithrandir said with a smile. “And now,
it would be an old conjurer's bed time, as well as near time for your guest to
arrive.” Looking at each of the twins in turn, he bowed slightly, lifting a
hand in farewell as he turned from the balcony. “May your night be all you
wish.”


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

With Mithrandir’s departure, the twins returned to their chair near the fire, 
hesitating only a moment before snuggling together comfortably. Aware 
that the pull had once again receded, they shared an odd sense of relief-
tinged regret. Elrohir toyed with his brother’s braid and sighed, smiling as 
he felt Elladan’s arms tighten instinctively around him. 
 
**I am well, ‘Dan. Melin chen.** 
 
** Melin chen, tôren.** 
 
A soft knock sounded, and two pairs of wide grey eyes met briefly before 
Elrohir reluctantly disentangled himself and padded across the room. 
Pulling the door open resolutely, he found himself staring warily at 
their expected guest. 
 
Glorfindel smiled slightly, his own unease surprisingly lessened by the 
obvious apprehension in the younger elf’s eyes. When Elrohir failed to 
move from the doorway, Glorfindel’s smile widened. “Might I 
come in, pen neth?” he asked gently, a hint of mirth in the kind sapphire 
gaze. “It would make things simpler, I believe.” 
 
“Of course,” the elf-knight replied quickly, a faint blush coloring his 
cheeks charmingly as he stepped away from the door. Elladan came to 
stand beside his brother, their hands clasping in an instinctive reach for 
reassurance as they gazed guardedly at their chosen mentor. 
 
Glorfindel had also removed his formal garb, but the comfortable robe and 
sleep pants he had donned did nothing to diminish his imposing presence. 
His waist length golden hair hung free of braids, glowing like sunlight 
against the deep blue of his clothing. 
 
Closing the door firmly, Glorfindel hesitated only briefly before sliding 
across the bolt. They would have no unexpected visitors. Turning to the 
unusually silent twins, he drew a deep breath. “I believe some miruvor 
may be in order,” Glorfindel suggested. Catching sight of the used glasses, 
he amended, “Some *more* miruvor, that is.” 
 
“I will pour,” Elladan said quickly, relieved to have some specific task to 
accomplish. “Get our glasses, ‘ Roh.” 
 
Walking to the fire, Glorfindel settled himself in the center of the 
oversized chair, his mind pulled unwillingly to memories of rainy 
afternoons spent snuggled there, reading and wrestling with two dark-
haired elflings.  
 
Glorfindel was stirred from his musings by a soft touch on his shoulder. 
Smiling his thanks, he accepted the proffered glass of miruvor and took a 
drink as he watched the twins settle gingerly at the edge of the seat, 
seemingly prepared to flee at any moment.  
 
Suddenly noticing the single beaded braid left in each length of ebony 
hair, Glorfindel found himself oddly touched by the thoughtfulness of 
the gesture. “This is for my benefit, I presume?” he asked with a smile, 
fingering Elrohir’s mithril-sparked plait. 
 
“Aye,” the elf-knight answered, returning the grin. “We thought you might 
have need to tell us apart easily.” 
 
Tossing back the rest of his drink, Glorfindel glanced at his companions. 
“Finish your miruvor,” he ordered, setting the empty glasses aside 
when they complied. Lifting his arms in invitation, Glorfindel said, 
“Come here, hmm?” 
 
The twins hesitated only a moment before moving to snuggle against their 
mentor, just as they had been doing for much of their lives. Wrapping an 
arm around each, Glorfindel buried his face first in Elladan’s hair, then in 
Elrohir’s silken locks. “We must talk,” he began gently, toying with both 
beaded braids. “Do you wish to stay together, pin nith? All the time?” 
 
“Aye, we do,” both responded at once, earning a chuckle from Glorfindel,
despite the gravity of the question. “I would have you think well on the 
matter,” he said seriously. “You may find it uncomfortable to watch, or to be watched.”  
 
“We would find it more uncomfortable to be apart,” Elladan declared 
firmly, shivering slightly as the fingers that had been twisting his braid 
moved to stroke his ear. 
 
Elrohir hissed in surprise as a warm mouth covered the tip of his ear, a 
teasing tongue tracing the ridges before the swirling wetness vanished, 
only to be replaced by caressing fingers. A gasp followed, and he surmised 
that the tongue’s attention had been diverted to his twin. 
 
Glorfindel forced back a smile at the surprised gasp, stroking Elladan’s 
hair soothingly. They were so very young. Watching Elladan calm 
under his touch and murmured reassurance, Glorindel was struck with 
a flash of insight. **‘They have no need for pretense with me,’** he 
mused thoughtfully, **‘no reason to hide their anxiety, nor curb their 
curiosity. That is the reason for Elrond’s orch-headed insistence that I be 
their bed-teacher, rather than Gildor, or Thranduil, or Haldir…’** 
 
As though reading Glorfindel’s thoughts, Elladan raised his head to 
meet the sapphire gaze, a soft flush staining his cheeks. “We are glad that 
you are here, Glorfindel,” he said quietly.  
 
“That you are glad eases my mind, pen neth,” the Balrog-slayer answered, 
tightening his hold on the twins. “I would not lose our relationship to these 
rites.” 
 
“But you are not glad,” Elrohir returned solemnly, watching the golden 
elf’s face carefully. 
 
"I am not glad, nay," Glorfindel admitted slowly. "Though my reluctance 
has naught to do with your form. You are very fair indeed, and 
most ellyn would give much to be in my place. But you are nearly as my 
own, pin nith, and I would not choose to alter what we share in this way. 
I do not wish to lose you." Pressing a kiss to each pale forehead, he 
repeated, "I am not glad. But I am willing."  
 
Elrohir grinned suddenly, mischief sparkling in his silver-grey eyes. 
 
**Mayhap we could make him glad, ‘Dan, hmm ?** 
 
**Make him glad, ‘Roh? How would you…**
 
The elf-knight broke in with a vivid picture of his proposal, causing a 
smirking grin to curl the corners of Elladan’s mouth. 
 
**You are wicked, tôren.** 
 
**‘Tis one benefit to be had from bedding gwanûn, surely.**
 
Well aware of the private conversation being held around him, Glorfindel 
leaned back into the over-stuffed chair, allowing his mind to wander 
aimlessly. Aimlessly, and so far that he was taken completely by surprise 
when both of his ears were engulfed by wet velvet, the dual sensation 
sending a searing stab of heat straight to his groin. 
 
Struggling to regain control, Glorfindel found his head held firmly 
in place by two strong hands and his legs held tight to the chair by silk-
clad knees. Just as he feared he must give voice to his pleasure or burst, 
his ears were released with a final teasing lick, and he found himself 
staring into two pairs of sparkling grey eyes.  
 
“Are you glad now, híren?” Elrohir asked, laughter bubbling in his voice, 
though his face remained determinedly sober. 
 
“Or shall we continue?” Elladan added, trying with little success to force 
back a grin. 
 
Losing the fight against his own mirthful amazement, Glorfindel felt a 
slow smile begin to spread across his face. “Mayhap you are not so young 
as I thought,” he conceded with a chuckle. “I may be glad, after all, ere the 
night is over.” Standing fluidly, Glorfindel extended a hand to each 
twin. “Come along, mellynen.” 
 

 
-- Elvish Translations:
 
gwanûn - twins 
mellonen - my friend 
adar, ada - father, dad 
iauradar - grandfather 
meldir - friend (male) 
melethen - my love 
melethron - lover (male) 
pen vain - beautiful one 
tôren - my brother 
Melin chen - I love you 
pen neth - young one 
pin nith - young ones 
ernilen - my prince(s) 
híren - my lord 
mellynen - my friends 


***Initiation II***
 
 

Glorfindel moved easily around the bedchamber, lighting the fragrant 
candles that had been placed about the room. Turning back toward the bed 
as the last flame flared to life, he found the twins standing 
uncertainly, as though strangers in their own chambers. 
 
Slipping off his robe, Glorfindel looked questioningly at his 
companions. “It is still your bed, pin nith,” he said with a smile, settling 
himself comfortably against the down soft pillows. “Will you not sit 
down?” 
 
Silken black fabric slid away to reveal lightly sculpted chests and 
shoulders, pale skin warmed by the soft glow of candles. Almost 
reluctantly, Glorfindel found himself admiring identical expanses of taut 
stomach, and the subtle play of muscle under skin as arms were lifted to 
push back wayward strands of gleaming ebony hair.  
 
Though Glorfindel had taken part in the majority rites of many an ellon, 
and had considerable experience with triads in his lengthy past, never 
before had the two roles been mingled, and he found himself 
uncharacteristically disconcerted at the thought of guiding not one, but 
**two** innocents in this first experience. That those innocents were 
Elrond‘s sons, younglings he had helped raise from infancy, did little to 
decrease his anxiety. 
 
Elladan lowered himself to the bed and reached an encouraging hand out 
to Elrohir, who sat down close beside his brother. Watching the telling 
interaction closely, Glorfindel pondered quietly for a moment, then spoke 
frankly. “I cannot attend to you both at once, if I am to guide you as you 
need and deserve.”  
 
Glorfindel‘s glance moved from one wide grey gaze to the other 
before settling on the elder twin. “I think it would be best, Elladan, if I 
take you first.” When the elder twin nodded wordlessly, Glorfindel shifted 
his attention to Elrohir. “You must watch closely, pen neth, for I 
will allow you to take me afterward.” 
 
Elrohir squeezed his twin’s hand tightly, struggling to form the questions 
that swirled in his thoughts. “But Glorfindel,” he began, “I…that is 
‘Dan…we…I mean…” 
 
“I am well aware of who most oft leads in your relationship,” Glorfindel
interrupted gently. “Just as I am well aware of who most often instigates 
the pranks and practical jokes that have cursed Imladris since soon after 
your birth,” he added with a grin. Reaching out to touch the elf-knight’s 
cheek, Glorfindel added, “Trust me, hmm? You will understand in good time.” 
 
As Elrohir nodded reluctantly, Glorfindel leaned over and pressed a 
lingering kiss to his lips, causing the younger elf to gasp in astonishment. 
Taking full advantage of the opportunity, Glorfindel deepened the kiss, his 
tongue probing Elrohir’s mouth with gentle insistence. Agreeably 
surprised at the warmth of the elf-knight’s response, he threaded his fingers 
into the inky black locks, his thumb stroking the tip of one ear. A 
breathless moan escaped Elrohir, and Glorfindel felt Elladan stiffen 
suddenly beside him. 
 
Glorfindel pulled away from the kiss immediately and turned to meet a 
darkly glittering gaze. Laying his hand lightly on Elladan’s shoulder, he 
rubbed soothingly. “What is amiss, pen neth?” he asked quietly, though 
his talks with Elrond had left him well aware of the answer. 
 
Before his brother could answer, Elrohir had moved closer, pressing his 
flushed cheek against his twin’s as a possessive arm stole around his 
waist. “I am sorry, mellonen,” Elladan answered, dropping his head. “I 
just cannot…I…’tis hard… Ada said it will be different after…” As his 
stumbling words faded, Elladan bit his lip, then raised his head to 
meet Glorfindel’s compassionate gaze. “He is mine.” 
 
“I know, ernilen,” Glorfindel said earnestly, “And you are his.” Feeling 
some of the tension leave the muscles under his hand, Glorfindel squeezed 
Elladan’s shoulder reassuringly. “I have no wish to change that, pen neth. 
I want only to make this night as pleasurable as possible for all of us.” 
 
Nodding silently, Elladan tightened his hold on Elrohir for a 
moment then pulled away, looking expectantly at the Balrog-slayer. 
Glorfindel bit back a sigh as he met the frank grey stare and wondered 
fleetingly if this was a good idea, after all. Reminding himself that Elladan 
was - despite the cool contemplation in the silvery gaze - a youngling who 
had just reached majority, Glorfindel firmly took control. 
 
“Elrohir, I would have you sit here,” Glorfindel directed, patting a place 
near the foot of the large bed. “You must watch the preparation carefully, 
pen neth, but it would be best, I deem, if you do not touch.” A wicked grin 
curling his lips, Glorfindel added, “Other than yourself, of course. I 
presume *that* skill has been previously learned?” 
 
Elrohir snorted inelegantly. “Aye, híren, it has. That particular skill 
was mastered many years ago.” Meeting his brother’s amused eyes, he 
continued. “There has been much opportunity for practice. Is that not 
right, ‘Dan?” 
 
“Much opportunity, indeed, tôren,” Elladan drawled, his good humor 
restored. “And I would agree that you perform masterfully.” 
 
Glorfindel inhaled sharply, the implications of their casual teasing sending 
waves of warmth through his groin. In his mind images and echoes 
swirled unchecked: Ebony hair, stroking hands, plaintive whimpers and 
moans. And identical silvery-grey gazes, locked in wordless 
communication, each urging the other on… 
 
“Glorfindel? *Glorfindel?*” Elrohir repeated curiously, breaking into the 
rather pleasantly diverting thoughts. 
 
“Aye,” Glorfindel replied, dragging his attention firmly back to the 
moment. Looking questioningly at Elladan, he asked formally, “Are 
you ready to begin?” 
 
“Elbereth, do not use that tone of voice!” Elladan chuckled, his laughter 
shattering the tension that had begun building in the chamber. “I feel as 
though I am but two centuries, and back in the library preparing to suffer 
through yet another lecture on the breaking of Beleriand.”  
 
“I have faith, ‘Adan, that you will find tonight more pleasurable that 
Erestor’s monologue on the sundered lands,” Glorfindel retorted with a 
grin, tangling his hand in Elladan’s hair and pulling gently, forcing the 
younger elf down on the bed. Meeting the now trusting grey eyes, he 
added soberly, “Though I cannot promise that you will not find it more 
painful, also” 
 
Elladan raised a hand, tracing Glorfindel’s face in an affectionate 
gesture shared for centuries. “You will not hurt me past necessity,” he 
said with quiet assurance. “That is promise enough.” 
 
Glorfindel smiled in answer, lowering his head to press a line of soft 
kisses along Elladan’s jaw. “I am honored by your trust, ernilen,” he 
whispered, moving to an ear to lick and nibble at the sensitive tip. 
Rewarded by a sharp hiss, Glorfindel smiled and increased his efforts, 
stopping only when Elladan whimpered in protest, tossing his head in 
an attempt to escape the intense sensation. 
 
Pulling away slightly, Glorfindel looked intently into the younger elf’s 
flushed face, his thumb drawing calming circles on one pink cheek. “’Tis 
alright, pen neth,” he murmured soothingly, then lowered his head to 
nuzzle Elladan’s throat, forcing back a stab of regret as a bright 
red-purple bruise bloomed on the flawless skin. “Do not struggle so 
against the pleasure.”  
 
Moving to nip and tug at the dark elf’s lower lip, Glorfindel breathed, 
“Relax, ‘Adan,” before covering Elladan’s mouth with his own, his 
tongue pushing determinedly through the parted lips to wrestle gently with 
its mate. Elladan reached up to pull Glorfindel closer, his tentative 
response becoming bolder as his shy touches were met with encouraging 
sounds. Glorfindel growled his approval, shifting his weight so that his 
arousal was plainly evident against the younger elf’s silk clad hip. 
 
Elrohir sat breathlessly, his body reacting instinctively to the sights and 
sounds while his thoughts churned violently and a new, raw emotion 
flooded his senses. Anger of a kind the elf-knight had never before felt 
swirled over him as he watched his brother‘s body tremble and shift under 
Glorfindel‘s ministrations. A jealous rage that threatened to spill into 
action engulfed him, and he fisted the soft blue bed linens, reason fighting 
for control even as his soul screamed in agonized fury. 
 
**He is mine. Mine, mine, MINE!** 
 
Elladan froze instantly, his brother’s pained cry tearing through his mind. 
Feeling the elder twin go still beneath him, Glorfindel drew back in 
concern, following the darkened grey gaze to the forlorn figure at the foot 
of the bed. Concern turned to dismay as he saw a single tear slide silently 
down Elrohir’s face, and he would have spoken - would have tossed Elrond 
and his advice into the sea and left them alone - had Elladan’s right hand 
not gripped his wrist tightly, as the left reached for Elrohir’s tensed 
fingers. 
 
**Aye, I am yours, tôren. Always. Melin chen, faeren… gûren… rohir 
nín.** 
 
Elrohir squeezed his twin’s hand, allowing the calming touch to cool his 
anger, just as the passionate endearments soothed his pain. Meeting 
Elladan’s gaze, he grinned weakly. 
 
**Rohir nín? ‘ Tis a name I have never carried before.**
 
**Aye. Rohir nín. Mine.**
 
**Yours, tôren.** 
 
**You do not have to stay, ‘Roh. 'Tis alright. You need not watch, if it 
will pain you less to go.**
 
“Nay, I will not leave you,” Elrohir said firmly, reluctantly 
releasing his brother’s hand. Turning to Glorfindel, who had remained 
silent, he said, ”I am sorry, híren. ‘ Twas foolish of me to react so. Geheno 
nin.” 
 
“There is naught to forgive, ernil neth,” Glorfindel replied gently. “And 
you are not foolish, you are *bound*. Bound in a way that is inconceivable 
to most.” Seeing the gratitude flash in Elrohir’s eyes, he reached out 
impulsively. “Lie here beside us, pen vain. I was wrong to 
forbid your touch.” 
 
Stretching out beside Elladan, the elf-knight rubbed his cheek over his 
brother’s briefly, the contact further easing his heart. Elrohir then drew 
back slightly and curled comfortably on his side, his gaze fixed on 
Glorfindel. “Go ahead, híren,” he teased, a glimmer of the usual mischief 
sparkling in his eyes. “Guide us.” 
 
“Aye, I will guide you, ernilen,” Glorfindel chuckled in relief, taking a 
playful swat at Elrohir. “I will guide you to six moon’s stable duty, if 
you do not behave.”  
 
Turning his attention to Elladan, he pushed back a strand of raven 
dark hair, his fingers gently worrying one reddened ear. “You are 
beautiful, pen neth,” Glorfindel whispered, his breath ghosting over 
Elladan’s skin, making the younger elf shiver as his lips were caught once 
more in a fierce kiss, his tongue lured into the other’s mouth to be nipped 
and sucked teasingly. 
 
Elladan whimpered wordlessly as the demanding kiss ended and a 
warm mouth wandered down his neck, licking and nibbling its way across 
the pale skin of his chest to nuzzle a pebbled nipple. “Oh, gods,” he 
groaned, his hands gripping the bed reflexively as the novel sensation shot 
straight to his already aching groin, intensifying as the other tender peak 
was nipped, then lapped soothingly. “Sweet Elbereth…please…” 
 
Elrohir swallowed hard, staring mesmerized as Glorfindel unlaced 
Elladan’s sleep pants, easing the silken fabric off and scattering a trail of 
kisses over the newly bared skin, deliberately avoiding the younger elf’s 
weeping erection. His eyes widened further as Glorfindel slipped off his 
own garment, revealing a formidable arousal. Though the twins had oft 
bathed with Glorfindel in the pools, this was a new sight, and the 
Elrohir winced instinctively as visions of tearing flesh and unbearable 
pain flashed through his head. 
 
“It will be alright, ‘Rohir,” Glorfindel broke in reassuringly, as though 
reading the younger twin’s thoughts, and Elrohir blushed furiously, 
realizing he had been staring blatantly at the elder elf’s groin. Giving Elrohir
an encouraging smile, Glorfindel turned back to Elladan, taking in the 
obsidian dark eyes and flushed skin. “I need you to relax, pen neth,” he 
said quietly, brushing a soft kiss across swollen lips as he reached for the oil. “Relax, and let me lead you.” 
 
Elladan nodded wordlessly, shuddering as strands of silken gold 
trailed over his chest and stomach, teasing him with the lightest of 
touches. Firm hands spread his thighs, urging his knees up and apart, 
leaving him feeling exposed and terribly vulnerable. Expecting a painful 
intrusion, Elladan nearly shouted when instead a warm mouth engulfed his 
aching arousal and a slippery hand moved to gently knead his sac. 
 
Caught up in excruciating pleasure, the dark elf was only vaguely aware of 
the fingers circling his untried entrance, oiling and stroking the tender skin 
with increasingly insistent pressure until finally the guardian ring was 
breached, and one slick digit slipped inside. Elladan hissed in surprise, his 
attention drawn from the lusciously wet warmth that surrounded his shaft 
to the sudden sting in his backside. 
 
Glorfindel stilled his hand, sliding up to press a lingering kiss to 
Elladan's mouth, his sapphire eyes nearly black with desire. “Taste yourself,” 
he purred seductively, nibbling kisses punctuating his words. “You are 
quite delicious.” Elladan moaned as the smoky sweet flavor filled his 
mouth, his whole body relaxing into the gentle kisses. “That is right, 
ernilen,” Glorfindel murmured approvingly, pumping his finger cautiously 
in and out of the snug channel. “Do not fight me.” 
 
“It burns,” Elladan gasped, biting his lip as the finger began twisting 
carefully, easing open the tight ring.  
 
“I know, pen neth,” Glorfindel soothed as he moved back down the 
pale body, leaving a trail of wet kisses in his wake. “It will be better, I 
swear.” Raising his eyes to meet Elrohir’s, Glorfindel said quietly, “Come 
closer, pen dithen. I need more oil.” 
 
Elrohir moved to sit beside his brother’s hips, drawing a shuddery 
breath as he stared entranced at the gently moving finger. He poured a 
thin stream of oil over Glorfindel’s hand, watching mesmerized as the 
finger was joined by a second digit, forcing the ring of muscle to give, 
then scissoring insistently, stretching the now slick passage. 
 
Elladan shifted uncomfortably, and Elrohir moved immediately to soothe 
his twin, burying his face in the sweat-damp neck, murmuring 
nonsensically as his hand drew calming circles on one trembling thigh.  
 
Suddenly Elladan howled, his body arching sharply off the bed despite 
Glorfindel’s restraining arm. The elf-knight sat up in alarm, his frightened 
gaze flying to the ancient elf. “He is well, ‘Rohir,” the Balrog-slayer said 
with a slight smile. “’Tis pleasure, not pain.” Sensing Elrohir‘s disbelief, 
he added, “Come here, and I will show you.” 
 
Sliding down to join Glorfindel, the younger twin idly noted that there 
were now three fingers moving easily through the stretched guardian ring, 
and then Elladan’s hips lifted again, and he slammed down on the 
invading fingers with a growl that turned quickly to pleading moans. 
“Yes…oh, gods…yes…” 
 
Elrohir shivered, a searing wave of heat flooding his groin, as he looked 
from the thrusting fingers to his brother’s flushed face and impossibly 
dark eyes. “Teach me how,” he rasped, turning his own midnight dark 
gaze on Glorfindel. 
 
“There is a mound in the passage,” Glorfindel explained hoarsely, his voice 
roughened by his own ignored need. “You turn your hand, like so, then 
curl your fingers and rub…” 
 
Elladan let out a strangled yelp and bowed off the bed, his body trembling 
on the edge of orgasm. Glorfindel quickly removed his fingers and gripped 
the younger elf’s twitching length, squeezing firmly at the base to prevent 
his release.  
 
When the moaning gasps slowed to shallow panting, Glorfindel carefully 
loosened his grip and moved up to nuzzle Elladan’s neck. “You are doing well, 
pen vain,” he whispered encouragingly, pressing gentle kisses to the warm face. 
“I am going to take you now. Turn to your side for me. It will be easier that way.” 
 
Elrohir stared wide-eyed, his nervousness nearly a match for his brother’s, 
his own arousal throbbing demandingly. Never taking his eyes off his 
twin, the elf-knight loosened the laces of his own sleep pants, reaching 
inside to grasp the hardened flesh, a soft moan escaping as his thumb 
began to move slowly over the weeping head. 
 
Elladan rolled obediently to his side, allowing Glorfindel to lift his top leg, 
pushing it up gently toward his chest. Through a haze of desire tinged with 
anxiety he felt a warm body curl around his own, then a slick hand trailing 
across his stomach as an unfamiliar hardness nudged at his entrance, 
pressing more and more insistently until at last the guardian ring gave 
way, and the oiled shaft slid reluctantly through. 
 
Glorfindel stopped pushing as soon he felt the muscle give, a pleasured 
moan escaping as he struggled against the urge to thrust hard into the 
incredible tightness. “Relax, ’Adan,” he managed, his voice gravelly. 
“Slow your breathing.” 
 
Elladan whimpered softly, breathing deeply as he was urged, trying to 
relax around the invading girth. The searing burn slowly gave way to a 
more tolerable sting as his tension eased, and the impaling rod slid deeper, 
slowly but steadily, not stopping until he was nestled firmly against Glorfindel’s solid body, soft words of praise and encouragement tickling his ear. 
 
Glorfindel remained motionless, trying desperately to control his own 
breathing as the satin heat of the passage twitched around him, and the 
strong ring of muscle squeezed him almost painfully. “You feel good,” 
he murmured, nuzzling a flushed ear as he rocked his hips experimentally. “Valar, yes…so tight.” 
 
Elladan gasped at the strange mixture of pleasure and pain. Though he felt 
uncomfortably full, every movement sent a wave of heat to pool in his 
groin, swelling his already impossibly hard erection. Pressing back 
instinctively, he heard a wordless groan and found himself rolled forward, 
his leg forced higher as Glorfindel's thrusts became deeper and harder. 
Then another shift of his leg, and stars exploded before his eyes as bolts of 
mind-numbing pleasure raced through his body. 
 
Glorfindel let loose a string of oaths as Elladan yelped, slamming back to 
impale himself more deeply. Feeling his orgasm build as Elladan 
writhed against him, Glorfindel wrapped his hand firmly around his 
young lover’s weeping length and began to pump rapidly, in smooth 
counterpoint to his increasingly forceful thrusts. 
 
Just as Glorfindel thought he could hold back no longer, Elladan 
stiffened in his arms and spilled with a keening cry, his silvery white seed 
pulsing in thick streams over the still moving hand. Glorfindel thrust 
forward into the convulsing heat once more, groaning roughly as he 
released. 
 
For a long moment there was no sound save the rasp of harsh breathing, 
then Glorfindel carefully withdrew and pulled Elladan into a snug 
embrace, stroking his hair soothingly as both their bodies slowly 
recovered. “Are you well, pen neth?” Glorfindel asked quietly, feeling 
the pounding of the young elf’s heart finally slow. 
 
Suddenly unaccountably shy, Elladan nodded silently against Glorfindel’s 
chest. Sighing heavily, the ancient elf caught Elladan’s chin, 
gently forcing him to meet the probing sapphire gaze. “Do not shut me 
out, ‘Adan,” Glorfindel said firmly. “Are you well?” 
 
“Aye,” Elladan answered, “I am well.” Wrinkling his nose, he added, “I 
am also quite sticky.” 
 
“Here, tôren,” Elrohir broke in soberly, handing his twin a warm, wet 
cloth. Turning to meet Glorfindel’s questioning gaze, he handed the 
captain a towel also, before finally succumbing to an inquisitive 
eyebrow. “I was sticky, too,” he admitted with a sheepish grin. 
 
********************************************* 
 
"It is time, I think, pen neth," Glorfindel said, reaching across 
Elladan to lay an encouraging hand on Elrohir's shoulder. "There is still 
much ahead of us this night." 
 
Elrohir's eyes widened as he gripped his brother's hand tighter, the 
thought of dominating the legendary Balrog-slayer temporarily stealing his 
tongue. "I am not sure that…Glorfindel, I cannot…" 
 
"I daresay you can, ernil neth," Glorfindel teased gently, casting a 
pointed look at Elrohir's partially erect length. "I am many millennia 
your senior, and I have recovered." 
 
"That is not what I meant, híren," Elrohir stuttered, his cheeks 
flaming. "I am *able*, but…" 
 
"But not willing?" Glorfindel asked, one eyebrow arched in mock affront. 
"Do you find me lacking in some way, pen dithen? I am not fair enough, 
mayhap?" 
 
"No, no of course not," Elrohir replied, mortified. "I mean, yes, you are 
very fair, but…" 
 
"Hush, tôren," Elladan sighed, rubbing his cheek over his twin's 
soothingly. "You are but digging the pit deeper." With a last reassuring 
squeeze, he released his brother reluctantly, settling himself against the 
mound of pillows at the head of the bed.  
 
Glorfindel drew Elrohir into a loose embrace, dropping a rain of 
soft kisses on the younger elf's flushed face. "There is naught to fear, 
ernilen," he murmured soothingly, tracing Elrohir's lips with his tongue. "I 
will guide you, and I will not break."  
 
Reassured by Glorfindel's encouragement - and undeniably aroused by the 
feel of warm, silken skin moving sensuously against his own - Elrohir
met the teasing mouth hungrily, his body arching with an eagerness that drew 
a satisfied groan from Glorfindel. 
 
Torn between burgeoning arousal and aching jealousy, Elladan watched silently 
as kisses and caresses became more urgent, biting his own lip viciously as
Elrohir's every whimper and moan seemed to tear at his heart. Elladan dropped his head, closing his eyes to hold back the tears of frustration that threatened 
to spill. The heavy ebony curtain of his hair fell forward, obscuring the 
sight before him, if not the sounds that taunted him so. Struggling to suppress 
what he knew to be pointless rage, the elder twin felt a calming presence brush his mind. 
 
**Yours, tôren. Remember. Just as you are mine. El nín. Mine.**
 
**El nín? What of Iauradar?**
 
**He is our star, 'Dan. You are mine. El nín.** 
 
**Aye. Yours, tôren. Melin chen.** 
 
**Melin chen, faeren. Do not fret so. It will not be long now.** 
 
Elrohir had stiffened suddenly, and Glorfindel forced back a sigh, rightly 
discerning the cause of the sudden tension. **'Any ellon who 
envies me this night should experience such a moment as this,'** he 
thought wryly. 
 
Pulling back slightly, Glorfindel raised himself on one elbow and 
turned his gaze on Elladan, taking in the bent head and clenched hands 
before speaking. "'Adan?" he said quietly. "Look at me, pen neth." 
The elder twin shook his head silently, the glossy length of his hair gleaming 
in the flickering light.  
 
*"Elladan,"* Glorfindel repeated, a note of command entering his voice. 
"Look at me. I do not wish to address an elf whose face I cannot see." 
 
Raising his head reluctantly, Elladan met Glorfindel's gaze and 
Glorfindel's heart ached at the raw pain visible in the drowned grey eyes. 
"Would you have me go, then, ernilen?" Glorfindel asked quietly. "I 
have no wish to be the cause of such anguish." 
 
"Nay," Elladan returned tightly. "I am alright, híren."  
 
"You are not alright," Glorfindel contradicted gently. "But you torture 
yourself without cause." Reaching for the distressed elf's hand, he 
continued soberly, "This night is for **you**, pen neth. Both of you. It is 
not intended to take your brother from you, but to help you begin learning 
how to give and receive pleasure." 
 
"I know," Elladan answered quietly, gripping Glorfindel's hand. 
"And I am grateful 'tis *you* who is here with us. The depth of my anger 
frightens me, Glorfindel. I did not expect to feel this way, though Ada 
tried to warn us. He said it would be different after we…after our bond is 
sealed." 
 
"Aye, he warned me as well," Glorfindel replied with a chuckle, 
"though I feel he may have understated the case." Giving Elladan's 
arm a tug, he added, "Come down here and aid your brother, hmm?  It is 
most important that you learn to prepare your partner properly." 
 
Frowning uneasily, Elladan obeyed, moving to sit at Glorfindel's other side. 
Elrohir rose gracefully to his knees and leaned over, the silken ends of 
his hair dragging teasingly across Glorfindel's stomach and groin as he 
pressed a lingering kiss to Elladan's mouth. 
 
Glorfindel inhaled sharply, startled by both the whisper soft touch of the 
elf-knight's hair and the incredibly erotic vision before him. He had, in fact, 
been immensely relieved when Elrond told him that he was not to witness the 
twins' joining. Though he well understood the concept of the twin-bond, 
Glorfindel feared that the *sight* of the brothers together would be disturbing. 
It was not so.  
 
Elladan rose to his knees and they became mirror images, save the color of 
their beads. Glorfindel watched enthralled as the twins kissed languidly, 
their movements unhurried, as though savoring a delicacy long-awaited. 
They separated slowly and turned midnight dark gazes on the ancient elf, 
ebony eyebrows lifted as if seeking direction. 
 
"The oil, 'Rohir," Glorfindel managed, shaking himself out of his stupor. 
Drawing his knees up and apart, the golden elf met Elrohir's eyes. "Do you 
remember how, ernilen?" 
 
Elrohir nodded wordlessly and reached for the oil 
vial, his hands unsteady as he removed the stopper. The soft scent of 
sandalwood filled his nose as he poured a thin stream of the viscous liquid 
in one hand, then looked at Glorfindel uneasily.  
 
"Go ahead, pen neth," the Balrog-slayer said encouragingly, firmly 
tamping down his own impatience. "You will not hurt me. And you must 
instruct your brother." 
 
Elrohir oiled his fingers as he had seen Glorfindel do, then lowered his 
hand to spread the sweetly scented fluid on Glorfindel's skin, circling 
the puckered opening nervously. Meeting Elladan's wide eyes, he 
swallowed thickly. "Like this, tôren," he said hoarsely. "You spread the 
oil, and then you use one finger…" 
 
The elf-knight's voice failed as his finger slipped easily into the 
Glorfindel's body, the moist heat seeming to draw him in actively, and he 
whimpered aloud at the thought of such silky tightness surrounding his 
hard length. Slipping the single digit in and out until it moved freely, he 
carefully added a second and began working his hand in earnest, urging 
the tight muscle to stretch. 
 
Elladan stared mesmerized by his brother's movements, his weeping 
erection twitching in time to his pounding heart. The sight of Elrohir's 
slippery hand pushing and twisting, his fingers disappearing over and over 
into Glorfindel's body, was one of the most arousing things Elladan 
had ever seen.  
 
Turning his hand as Glorfindel had shown him, Elrohir curled his 
fingers, feeling curiously for the spot that had given his brother such 
pleasure. At first he searched in vain, then suddenly Glorfindel bowed off 
the mattress, letting go an oath that had both twins snickering helplessly. 
 
"'Tis funny, you think, 'Rohir?" Glorfindel asked when his breath 
returned. "Just you wait, pen neth. I will… Elbereth! Oh, gods…"  
 
Elrohir grinned proudly at Elladan and repeated the successful motion, his 
fingers drawing firm circles on the wall of Glorfindel's passage, stroking the sensitive mound mercilessly. Stilling his hand, Elrohir suddenly withdrew his fingers and arched a questioning eyebrow at his twin.  
 
**Will you try, tôren?**
 
Elladan drew a deep breath as the question brushed his mind, then nodded, 
reaching for the oil vial. His fingers slicked, the elder twin carefully 
mimicked Elrohir's movements, pumping his fingers easily in and out of 
the slick channel. Watching with interest as Glorfindel's body bucked and 
twisted under the pleasurable assault, Elladan suddenly frowned 
thoughtfully. 
 
Elrohir looked at his brother curiously and opened his mouth to 
speak, but the words never came, for in that instant Elladan leaned over 
and engulfed Glorfindel's weeping length in his mouth. Copying as well as 
he could remember the things Glorfindel had done to *him*, he licked and 
sucked at the hard shaft, his tongue rolling teasingly over the swollen head, 
then tracing the throbbing vein firmly.  
 
Glorfindel howled wildly as the most unexpected wetness surrounded him,
burying his hands in the satin soft ebony tresses that wandered across 
his twitching stomach. Holding with difficulty to the remnants of his sanity, 
he managed not to thrust forcefully into the delicious warmth, afraid of 
choking his inexperienced lover.  
 
Feeling his stomach tighten warningly, Glorfindel tugged gently at 
Elladan's hair. "Stop, pen neth," he rasped tightly, urging Elladan's 
head up. When the rhythmic movements continued unchanged, he pulled 
more sharply at the silken strands, his voice rising in his urgency. 
"*Elladan*!" he barked out. " Daro! Si!" 
 
The elder twin ceased his movements, reluctantly allowing the engorged 
shaft to slip from his mouth. Looking curiously at Glorfindel, he asked, 
"Why? Do I not please you?" 
 
"You please me very much, ernilen," Glorfindel managed, his attention 
riveted on the gleaming lips. "In a moment I fear you would have pleased 
me too much." 
 
Elladan's brow furrowed in confusion, then suddenly cleared, a wave of 
color flooding his face even as a grin played around the corners of his 
mouth. Elrohir chuckled at his brother's look of embarrassed pride, then 
sobered, gazing intently at his twin. "How does it taste, 'Dan?"  
 
In answer, the elder twin pressed his mouth to Elrohir's, gently urging the 
other's lips apart. As their tongues swirled together languidly, the elf-
knight sampled the rich, smoky taste of Glorfindel's seed with interest. 
"You taste rather good," he announced thoughtfully, bringing a smile to 
the ancient elf's face. "It is hard to describe. Like an unusually fine 
smoked cheese, mayhap. Or an aged cordial before a fire."" 
 
"Cheese?" Glorfindel repeated with a chuckle. "I think I prefer your 
second attempt, pen dithen. Aged cordial before a fire. That is a fine 
thought."  
 
Reaching for Elrohir, Glorfindel pulled him down into a heated 
kiss, molding their bodies together snugly as he rolled underneath his 
partner. A satisfied groan escaped the ancient elf as their arousals met, 
sliding together smoothly. Opening his legs widely, he caught Elrohir with 
his strong thighs and, tearing his mouth away, looked up into the elf-
knight's impossibly black eyes. "Now, 'Rohir," he ordered, his voice 
rough. "Oil yourself." 
 
As Elrohir sat up and his shaking hands found the oil vial, a caressing 
voice slid through his mind. 
 
**Shall I help you, rohir nín?** 
 
A shudder ran down the elf-knight's spine as he met Elladan's midnight 
dark eyes, then he shook his head slightly. 
 
**Nay, tôren, you must not touch. ' Twould be the end of me, I fear.**
 
With a look that somehow managed to appear both disappointed and self-satisfied, Elladan settled himself near the foot of the bed, idly stroking his own 
hardened length.  
 
**Very well. I shall touch myself, then, I suppose. And watch.** 
 
Elrohir's arched eyebrow spoke volumes as he drizzled a stream of oil 
over his aching erection, hissing sharply when the cool liquid hit his 
heated skin. Slicking himself carefully, he moaned aloud at the feel of his 
own hand, then turned an uncertain gaze on Glorfindel. 
 
Glorfindel raised himself on one elbow and patted the bed between his 
widely spread legs. Moving to the indicated spot, Elrohir nearly yelped in 
surprise when Glorfindel settled his hips on top of Elrohir's thighs, 
the prepared passage a mere hand's-breadth away. 
 
"Position yourself against the entrance," Glorfindel directed, his voice 
gravelly, "and push straight in. You will likely have to use your hand at 
first." 
 
Elrohir drew a shaky breath and rose up slightly, his heart pounding in his 
ears as he gripped his purpled shaft, placing the dripping head carefully against Glorfindel's body. A harsh groan sounded, and Elrohir watched in awe as the 
starburst opening twitched at the light touch. "Go ahead. Now," Glorfindel
demanded, his hips moving restlessly. "All the way in." 
 
The elf-knight pressed forward, surprised by the firm resistance. Then 
the guardian ring gave way, and Elrohir growled ferally, staring transfixed 
as he was taken into the impossibly hot, silken tightness. Panting frantically, he sunk forward until he was fully sheathed, his sac snug against Glorfindel's smooth cheeks. "Oh, gods," he gasped, the words becoming a chant, "oh gods oh gods ohgods ohgods…"  
 
Glorfindel grasped Elrohir's shoulders and drew the trembling body 
down into a warm embrace, groaning in pleasure as his weeping erection 
was caught between two hard stomachs. Wrapping his legs loosely around 
Elrohir's waist, he rocked enticingly. " Valar's grace, pen neth," he breathed hoarsely. "*Move*." 
 
"I cannot," Elrohir rasped, raising himself on his forearms to 
meet Glorfindel's eyes. "If I move I will…" 
 
"'Tis all right, ernilen," Glorfindel assured him, stroking Elrohir's 
raven locks soothingly. "I do not expect you to last. Just move." 
 
Closing his eyes, the elf-knight nodded and drew back slowly, then pushed 
forward, biting his lip as he sank back into the slick heat. Glorfindel 
growled approvingly and shifted the angle of his hips, a strangled moan 
sounding as Elrohir thrust forward sharply. "Yes," Glorfindel gasped, 
closing his hand around his own aching erection. "Like that." 
 
Elladan sat as if hypnotized, his eyes locked on the joined forms, his hand 
moving rapidly on his own slick length as he watched Elrohir pound again 
and again into Glorfindel's body, his head thrown back, ebony hair trailing 
over the entwined limbs. A fierce whimper escaped as Elladan's eyes fluttered 
closed, visions of his brother's flushed face and passion-darkened gaze crawling sinuously through his mind. Surrendering wholly to the sensation, he spilled with a sobbing moan, his seed splashing hotly across his twitching stomach. 
 
Glorfindel arched up to meet the increasingly forceful movements, and 
Elrohir raised himself on his hands, shuddering as his thrusts became more 
and more erratic. "Oh, gods," Elrohir panted breathlessly, "oh, 
gods…I am…going…*oh, gods!*"  
 
A keening wail burst from the elf-knight as he slammed forward a final time, 
writhing mindlessly against the hard form beneath him as the most intense 
climax of his life roared through his body, the pleasure prolonged almost 
unbearably by the strong spasms that accompanied Glorfindel's release but 
a moment later. 
 
Glorfindel caught Elrohir as he collapsed, all strength suddenly 
gone from his exhausted body. Long moments passed before the younger 
elf stopped trembling and was able to lift himself, withdrawing his 
softening length. Glorfindel rolled carefully and wrapped Elrohir in 
a snug embrace, tracing calming circles on his sweat-damp back. "You did 
well, pen dithen," he murmured, idly twisting the mithril-dotted braid 
around his fingers. "Are you alright now?" 
 
"Aye, I am," Elrohir answered quietly, his face buried in Glorfindel's 
neck. "But I am so very tired. And damp. And sticky." 
 
"I believe 'Adan has a cure in hand, for the damp and sticky complaints, at 
least," Glorfindel chuckled, gratefully accepting the basin of warm water, 
cloth and towel that a freshly-washed, grinning Elladan offered.  
 
After carefully cleaning Elrohir, then himself, Glorfindel urged both 
twins up from the bed, spreading a layer of clean linen over the cold, damp 
sheet. Settling them back down, he disposed of the wash basin, then 
disappeared into the front chamber without explanation. 
 
Elladan and Elrohir exchanged curious glances, but had little time to 
ponder the question before Glorfindel reappeared bearing the tray of food 
and bottle of miruvor from the den.  
 
"I thought this might be a good time for a snack, and a drink," Glorfindel 
explained, placing the laden tray on the night table and pouring three glasses 
of the potent cordial. He dropped to the bed, completely at ease despite his nakedness, and the night's activities. "It would be well to rest a while, ere we continue."  
 
"Besides, pin nith," Glorfindel added, meeting the twin grey glances 
seriously, "there are still things we must discuss." 
 

 
--Elvish Translations: 

Melin chen - I love you 
tôren - my brother 
pen neth - young one 
mellynen - my friends 
pin nith - young ones 
ernilen - my prince(s) 
ellyn - male elves 
ellon - male elf 
gwanûn - twins 
híren - my lord 
faeren - my soul 
gûren - my heart 
rohir nín - my knight 
geheno nin - forgive me 
ernil neth - young prince 
pen vain - beautiful one 
pen dithen - little one 
el nín - my star 
Iauradar - Grandfather 
Daro! Si! - Stop! Now! 


***Triad***


~Glorfindel~


It is with a profound sense of relief that I watch them squabble, their
affectionate banter reassuringly familiar.  Elrohir has eaten a dozen
cookies, Elladan his weight in strawberries…were it not for the smattering
of bruises and bite marks that adorn their pale skin, these past hours might
have been an illusion.

They seem no less at ease with each other, nor with their reluctant mentor.
Whatever else this night might bring for the gwanûn, I would have this
brotherly rapport remain unchanged.  Imladris would seem a dull place,
indeed, were their spirited teasing to be replaced by naught but lover's
sighs.

How to approach this next step?  It is at Elrond's insistence that I broach
the subject at all. They are young, and their bond yet unsealed.  Surely
it would be wiser to wait, to allow an exploration of the passion *between*
them, before beginning their instruction in the ways of a triad.

The gwanûn are watching me expectantly, and the words come at last,
halting as they sound even to my own ears.  "'Tis thought best that you
have some small experience in sharing your bond with another, ere this
rite ends."

'Rohir frowns thoughtfully, and I can see understanding spread across his
face.  Understanding, and not a little unease.  'Adan meets his brother's
eyes briefly and their fingers interlace in an unconscious show of unity,
then the clear silver gaze of Elrond's eldest turns to my face.  "You have
experience with such joinings, then, híren?" he asks calmly, as though
inquiring after nothing more unusual than the status of the patrols.

He is Elrond remade, and I wonder idly if Elrohir is likewise a copy of
Elros.  Would that my liege-lord's twin were here, that I might make the
judgment.  But had Elros chosen otherwise, would the gwanûn be with us
at all?  Such questions do not bear close scrutiny.  What is, is…and the
current peredhil brothers are now eyeing me warily, disconcerted by my
silence.

"Aye."  I offer no further explanation.  It is neither the time nor place for
*that* tale.  Someday, mayhap, when they are older and presumably
wiser.  But I am postponing the moment again. Drawing a deep breath,
and sending up a final prayer for coherency, I begin.  In nearly painful
detail.

Understanding comes with admirable swiftness, and Elrohir's unease
seems to fade to cautious interest as the mechanics become clear.  "And
there are many ways to manage this, you say?" he asks curiously, visions
of bent and twisted elves clearly visible in his eyes.

Elladan's concern is more basic, and less easily allayed.  He is fearful 
thathis brother may be unnecessarily hurt.  In the end, it is Elrohir's gentle
admonishments, rather than my reassurance, which break down his resistance, 
and 'Adan reluctantly agrees.  He chuckles despite himself at the elf-knight's 
joking references to a "gwanûn sandwich".

'Sandwich', indeed.  It will be a lucky elf who is chosen to fill it on a 
more permanent basis.  Their skin is like silk under my fingers, warm and soft.
The gwanûn move in fluid synchronicity, mouths and hands seemingly
controlled by one mind, suffering none of the awkward bumps and tangles
that oft plague newly formed triads.

Elladan's hair falls across my face, a heavy curtain of ebony strands, and
my heart clenches painfully as thoughts of Erestor rise unbidden.  But
even as the ache assails me, my mate's soothing voice echoes in my
thoughts.

**Melin chen.  'Tis no betrayal.  I will be waiting, melethron.**

Reassured by my bonded's acceptance, and buoyed by his promise, I turn
my attention firmly back to the deed at hand, and Elrohir's first yielding.
Despite Elladan's apparent authority in their relationship, 'Rohir 
is an aggressive warrior and an exuberant trickster. It is with some small
sense of shock that I note how easily he surrenders.

It is plain to see who will lead in their coupling, at least for a while.
Elladan takes control easily, with none of the reticence shown by his
brother, and I recognize that smoldering glow in his darkened eyes, that
need to possess, for I have often seen it in my mirror.  Elrond spoke
confidently of the equality between gwanûn, though, so mayhap this, too,
will change after their bond is sealed.

Half expecting another show of jealous rage from Elladan, I reach for the
oil, and I am both relieved and a bit surprised when he settles close beside
his brother, murmuring quietly as I begin the careful preparation.  Though
he witnessed the act earlier, Elrohir is caught off guard by the wet warmth
of my mouth around his hard flesh and he yelps loudly, rising to his
elbows to stare in disbelief before falling back, overcome by the novel
sensation.  I would chuckle, were I not otherwise occupied.

Valar, he is tight!   A whimper escapes as I push a second finger
past the snug ring, and I stroke his stomach soothingly.  Raising
my head, I catch a flash of anger - quickly suppressed - in Elladan's
obsidian dark gaze.  "I will not hurt *him* past necessity, either, 'Adan."

The self-proclaimed protector has the grace to look apologetic, and I grant
him a forgiving smile before returning to the task.  More oil, more gentle
stretching, another finger…and then Elrohir arches off the bed, a word he
most assuredly did *not* learn under Erestor's tutelage bursting from his
lips.

Elladan snorts in amusement, well aware of what has happened, then
quickly grabs his brother's hand, stopping its reflexive descent. "Nay,
'Roh," he says gently, interlacing their fingers.  "Wait a bit."

Elrohir's gaze is black as coal, his voice rasping as he tugs at Elladan's
arm, pressing his hips upward in a frantic search for friction.  "I cannot
wait.  Touch me, tôren.  Please."

The struggle for restraint is visible in Elladan's face as his eyes sweep
hungrily over the trembling form, finally coming to rest on the engorged
arousal curved tightly against Elrohir's flat belly, a pool of glistening 
fluid under the weeping crown.  An almost inaudible plea breaks through the
drone of our ragged breathing.  "Please, 'Dan.  I need you."

Before my eyes, Elladan's control shatters like glass on stone, and his hand
moves purposefully down his brother's body.  Elbereth!  Why do I stare
like a fool?  This must not happen.  Not yet.

Grasping Elladan's wrist firmly, I ignore the blaze of anger in his eyes,
addressing Elrohir instead.  "Turn over, pen neth.  It is time."

Desperate for release and seemingly beyond anxiety, Elrohir rolls
willingly, rising on elbows and knees with his flushed face pressed to the
mattress and the creamy globes of his backside raised enticingly.  A
perfect rendition of the position we have chosen, a compromise between
his comfort and Elladan's convenience.  "Like this?"  he asks hoarsely,
pulling the glossy length of his hair forward.

My heart is pounding so that I can no do more than nod as I move behind
him, gripping the slender hips with oil slick hands.  Unable to cuddle him
in this position, I whisper soothingly, stroking his back as I sink forward
with agonizing slowness.  Oh, gods.  So hot and tight and soft.  Oh,
gods…faster…I need…I need to breathe.  He makes no protest, though his
hands clutch convulsively at the wrinkled sheets, and at last we are
snugged together, and I can hold him, murmuring reassurance as his body
adjusts to this first invasion.

As the near dizzying tightness eases somewhat, I move cautiously, alert
for any sign of worsening pain…but ill-prepared for Elrohir's response.
With a harsh groan he rises to his hands, pushing back forcefully against
the shallow thrusts.  Sweet Eru!  Grabbing his hips tightly to stem the
frantic movements, I meet Elladan's questioning gaze and nod slightly.

To my surprise, I feel a trickle of oil, then a gentle finger spreads the
slippery fluid over and into my still stretched entrance.  Knowing there
would be no need for a full preparation, I have told my young lover only
to oil himself well.  The thoughtfulness of the gesture bodes well for their
fusing, I wager.

I hear Elladan's harsh breathing, feel his hands on my hips, slick and
trembling, and then he is groaning, a fierce guttural sound that melds with
the growl ripped from my own chest as I am breached with one steady
push, the force driving me deeper into Elrohir's writhing body.

There is a brief moment of calm, a last glimpse of sanity in which I worry
for 'Rohir, then we are moving, and the world narrows to velvet heat and
savage thrusts…gods, I had forgotten how it feels…filling and being
filled…the pleasure and pain blurring into one perfect whole…

And then I am howling, my hands fisted in Elrohir's tangled hair,
burrowing forward, coming in hard spurts deep inside him even as hot
cream spills over my pumping fist and into my shuddering body.  Then it
is dark and quiet.

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

Glorfindel slipped carefully from the jumble of arms and legs, wincing
slightly as he made his way to the bathing chamber.  It had been many
years since he submitted twice in one night, and his body reminded him of
the fact with every step.

Half-filling the bath, he scrubbed gratefully, washing and rinsing his
tousled hair until it glinted like sunlight in the candle-lit room.  
Untangling the heavy golden length carefully, he tied it back loosely, before 
draining and rinsing the tub.

Running a generous tub full of steaming water, Glorfindel sprinkled it
liberally with healing herbs, then returned to the bed chamber, slipping
into his sleep pants before he gently shook the twins awake.  "Come along,
ernilen," he insisted kindly.  "You will sleep better tonight and feel 
better tomorrow if you have a good soak now."

Settling the reluctant younglings in the tub, Glorfindel quickly stripped 
the bed, making it fresh with silky black linens.  Moving around the room, he
snuffed out all the candles save the one on the bed table, then banked the
dying fire.  Satisfied with his efforts, he picked up the jar of salve from 
the bed table and returned to the bathing chamber, only to find his freshly
washed companions nearly asleep in the water.

With skill born of long centuries tending both wounded and drunken
warriors, Glorfindel loosed Elladan's beaded braid, then soaped and
rinsed the ebony mane, drying the silken strands well and binding them in
a single loose plait.  Urging the elder twin out of the tub and into a 
towel, Glorfindel turned his attention to Elrohir, and soon both were washed,
braided, and towel wrapped.

Opening the jar of salve, Glorfindel met two wary grey gazes frankly.  "I
must look you over, pin nith, and apply some healing salve," he stated
calmly.  "I will see to you first, Elrohir."

Agreeing reluctantly - after it became clear that refusal was not an option -
the elf-knight stood stoically as his tender bottom was gently probed, then
coated with the soothing cream.  Elladan looked as though he might flee,
but the arch of one golden eyebrow made him think better of it, and he,
too, submitted quietly to the examination.

"*Now* you are ready for a good rest, no doubt," Glorfindel offered
cheerfully, scrubbing his hands in the draining tub.

Leading the way back to the bed chamber, he tucked the exhausted twins
into bed as though they were but elflings, pressing a chaste kiss to each
dark head.  "Maer dú, 'Adan…'Rohir," Glorfindel said quietly.  "Posto
mae."

"Maer dú, híren," Elladan and Elrohir chorused sleepily, their eyes
beginning to close.  Suddenly the elf-knight's eyes flew open, and he
reached for Glorfindel's hand.  "Are you leaving?"

"I will sit with you a while, pen dithen," Glorfindel said with a
smile. "If you like."

"Hannon chen," Elrohir murmured, snuggling closer to his brother as his
eyes slid closed.

Glorfindel sat silently for a few minutes, listening as the twins' breathing
became slower and deeper, seeming to synchronize as they slid into sleep.
Rising noiselessly, he snuffed out the candle and made his way
toward his own bed.  And Erestor.


--Elvish translations:

gwanûn - twins
híren - my lord
Melin chen - I love you
melethron -  lover (male)
tôren - my brother
ernilen - my prince(s)
pen neth - young one
pin nith - young ones
pen dithen - little one
Maer dú - good night
posto mae - rest/sleep well
hannon chen - thank you



***Fusing***


~Elrohir~

I woke, as always, snug in my brother's embrace.  His chest pressed tightly
to my back, his face buried in my neck - his scent and the soothing warmth
of his body surround me.  The silken rope of his hair, still damp, lies
twisted with my own braid, the ends brushing my skin teasingly.  Slowly,
carefully, I remove the length of lacing, gently unweaving the inky
strands.

I do not wish to wake him.  Not yet.  The stars are just beginning to fade
from the velvety sky, and these moments before the day awakens have
ever been the most precious to me.  The most precious, as well as the most
trying.  We have slept so entwined for years uncounted.  For over a
century I have woken thus, excruciatingly aware of his hardness nestled
against me, my own throbbing insistently in answer.  And for over a
century we have moved reluctantly apart, firmly tamping down the
flickering flames of desire, resisting the siren's song of our bond.

Today there is no need to resist.

The realization rushes over me like icy water, leaving me breathless.  
Shivering - whether from anticipation or anxiety I could not say - I
instinctively press back against 'Dan, seeking reassurance from his
closeness as I have since our birth.  His drowsy moan goes straight to my
groin, and I stifle a whimper as his arms tighten and he snuggles closer,
his arousal sliding enticingly against me.  A moment later my racing heart
leaps painfully, then settles into a steady gallop as the tip of one ear is
enveloped in a warm mouth, and a teasing drawl slithers through my mind.

**Your heart is pounding, tôren.**

Suddenly the reality of what is happening strikes me, and my body goes
rigid, torn between fear and desire.  Immediately the swirling wetness is
gone from my ear, replaced by a hand that strokes my hair gently, idly
twisting the loose braid.  'Dan takes a deep breath, and he is once again
simply tôren einior - my protector.  "We have the rest of our lives, rohir
nín," he says quietly, accepting what he sees as refusal without protest,
though the echo of pain in his voice brings tears to my eyes.  "Mayhap
eternity.  There is no need to rush."

As he begins to move away, I grab his hand and hold tight, ignoring his
surprised yelp as I once again press back, molding my body to his, our
hearts now thudding in unison.  Brushing a kiss across his palm, I place
his hand on my trembling stomach, and my thoughts reach out - half plea,
half demand.

**Love me, 'Dan.**


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

~Elladan~

His skin is warm under my touch, warm and smooth as the silk sheets on
which we lie, yet he shivers as though chilled to the bone.  I can feel his
anxiety, and taste his desire, for they echo my own chaotic emotions.  I
feared my heart would shatter when he suddenly stiffened, so unyielding
and silent in my arms, then I worried lest it leap from my chest as he
relaxed against me once more, his quiet entreaty becoming a never-ending
mantra in my mind.  *Love me. Love me. Love me…*

Sweet Eru, I do.  I have, always.  I will, always.  I have ever been his,
from the moment of our begetting.  Will ever be his, to the end of Arda,
and beyond.  As he is mine- tôren, guren, faeren, rohir nín.  The feel and
smell and taste of him are my earliest memories, my anchor, my assurance
that all is well.

I bury my face in his neck once more, inhaling deeply, savoring his
familiar scent, so like my own, and yet not.  It is intoxicating.  My tongue
flicks over the satiny skin of his throat, tentative, asking permission.  
And permission comes, in the form of a firm hand on my head, as 'Roh
stretches his neck invitingly, his encouraging murmurs stirring a fire in me
like none I have ever known.

I gently tug his hand free, licking and nipping his fingers teasingly,
causing him to chuckle deep in his throat, even as he trembles against me-
and suddenly I am swept back in time, caught in a memory I have not
consciously recalled in centuries.


~*~*~*~*~*~

**I am but a wee elfling, sitting astride Ada's knee, one hand tangled
comfortably in his hair.  'Roh sits likewise on the other knee, and we both
stare with brotherly superiority as Nana rocks our new sister, who has one
thumb stuck firmly in her tiny mouth.

"Surely I did not do that, Ada?  'Tis ridiculous to suck on your own
thumb."  'Ridiculous' is my new word, and I am inordinately proud of it.

"Nay, you did not, 'Adan," Ada replies, his eyes twinkling.  Even as I puff
up with pride, he chuckles softly, tightening his arms around both of us.
"You sucked 'Rohir's thumb.  And he yours."**

~*~*~*~*~*~


I am jerked suddenly back to the present by the wet lash of 'Roh's tongue
around my thumb, and a bolt of searing heat shoots through my body,
swelling my already aching shaft.  He tilts his head, and grey eyes,
darkened with desire and sparkling with mirth, meet my startled gaze.

**I remember, also, tôren.**


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

~Elrohir~

My anxiety evaporates like morning mist, replaced by the warm glow of a
shared memory.  I force back a burst of laughter at 'Dan's surprise as I 
turn in his embrace, snuggling closer.  Though his mind is oft open to me, as
mine is to him, we do not intrude lightly into one another's thoughts.
Raising one hand to his cheek, I meet his eyes apologetically, and I am
immediately lost in their midnight dark depths.

"Do not be sorry," he says quietly, "My memories are yours to share."
His lips ghost across my hand once more, soft and warm, as his fingers
loose my hair, threading through the damp strands, smoothing the waves
left by the braiding.  Then his mouth covers mine, his tongue tracing my
lips gently, almost hesitantly, until they part in invitation, and suddenly 
I am drowning in him.  The taste of him, the smell of him, the silken feel of
his hair under my hands and his skin against mine - nothing else matters.
It was for this that I was born.


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

~Elladan~

Our tongues wrestle lightly, teasingly, and 'Roh's surrender is clear here,
too, as in his breathless whimpers, and the way his body conforms to
mine.  Pliant yet insistent, he pulls me over to lie above him as our kisses
deepen, and I settle between his open legs, unable to suppress a
shuddering groan as our swollen lengths nestle together for the first time.

My brother presses up eagerly, his hands tangling almost painfully in my
hair as I nuzzle his neck, sucking and nipping sharply until the imprint of
my teeth is visible, stark red and blue against the translucent flesh.
Glorfindel's fading mark is no longer visible underneath my own.  'Roh is
mine, and only mine.

The pull of the bond washes over us in waves, and the urge to end it, to
simply plunge into his offered body, is overwhelming.  And yet…I yearn
to see him tremble and moan under my hands, under my mouth, as he did
under our tutor's touch.  Pressing a lingering kiss to his parted lips, I 
pull away slightly, ignoring his growl of protest as my eyes roam greedily over
him.


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

~Elrohir~

His weight lifts from me suddenly, and a wordless complaint bursts from
my mouth as I instinctively arch toward the hard heat of his body.  Forcing
my eyes open, I meet his obsidian dark gaze, shivering as it sweeps over
me possessively.   I can feel his hunger, his need - and yet he remains
motionless, save one hand, which traces my face gently.  Then those
impossibly dark eyes meet mine once more, and his voice echoes in my
lust-fogged mind.

**Beautiful.**


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

~Elladan~

His pale skin glows in the dim light, soft and luminous as silk over the
rippling muscle beneath.  The ragged rhythm of his breathing hypnotizes
me, as does the soft flush that colors his flawless face.  Then he shifts
restlessly, and the spell is broken.  He is exasperated by my lack of haste,
and I cannot forestall the smile that breaks as his thoughts brush mine.

**Are you in need of further lessons, 'Dan?**

He is still 'Roh, even as he willingly yields control.  Still impatient, 
still cheeky.

**I think I shall manage, Elrohir.**

**Then do so. /Elladan/.**

Still grinning, I brush an affectionate kiss across his swollen lips before
lowering my head to nibble at his throat once more.  Then his hands are in
my hair, his teeth scrape my ear, and our kisses are no longer affectionate,
but fiery and full of promise.


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

~Elrohir~

The feel of his mouth on my throat leaves me gasping for air, arching
helplessly into the warmth as he licks and nibbles a searing path down my
neck, then across my chest.  The sleek curtain of his hair falls forward,
black as ink, to tickle and tease my skin.

Then his lips brush my nipples gently, and I whimper, the sound becoming
a wail as he sucks one hard nub into his mouth, nipping with sharp teeth,
then easing the sting with a swipe of his tongue.  His fingers find the
other, tugging and rolling the tender peak before his mouth covers it in
turn.

Oh, gods, I have never felt, never imagined…


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

~Elladan~

I feel him tremble against me and I shiver in return, his pleading murmurs
sending white-hot bolts of desire through my body.  I am no longer sure
who is truly in control, nor do I care.  He pushes up frantically, his 
arousal hard and wet against my stomach, and with a harsh groan I give in,
rubbing my aching shaft on his leg like a buck in rut.

A strangled outburst fills the room, then his hands are fisted tightly in my
hair, tugging savagely, forcing me back up to meet his desperate kiss.
'Roh's eyes are black, glittering with desire, and I know instinctively that
they mirror my own.  There is no teasing, no tenderness in these kisses -
they are bruising, needful, almost violent in their hunger.

Suddenly his legs wrap around me, strong as mithril, and his voice cuts
through my addled thoughts, hoarse and demanding.

**Now.**


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

~Elrohir~

I am nearly undone by the press of his body against me, his hard length
cradled against my crease, brushing my salve-slick entrance eagerly.  Our
teeth clash spectacularly, nipping and pulling at tender lips and tongues.
Suddenly, I taste blood and wrench my mouth away, my lust-induced
stupor shaken by the coppery tang.  Breathing hard, I lie motionless,
staring up into 'Dan's face.

His eyes are bottomless, dark and liquid.  In them I see the tenuous threads
of control begin to unravel, and for a brief instant, I am afraid again -
fearful of what we have unleashed, unsure of what will be left after the
passion burns away.


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

~Elladan~

His unease washes over me unexpectedly, and immediately the fierce pull
of the bond fades, replaced by a wave of guilt.  His legs slip unnoticed
from about my waist.  There is a smear of blood on his chin, jarringly
bright against the translucent fairness of his skin, and his eyes flicker 
with confusion and longing…and fear.

My heart clenches painfully as I lower my head in a feeble offering of
comfort, my throat aching as I struggle to speak.


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

~Elrohir~

His cheek brushes mine, a tender gesture left over from long ago, and I am
startled by a trace of wetness against my skin.  Pulling back, I stare 
aghast at the silvery tears trickling down his face.  "You are afraid of me," 
he whispers raggedly, pain in every syllable. "Melin chen, 'Roh.  Do not be 
afraid. I cannot bear it."

Desperate to ease the hurt swirling in his eyes, I brush kisses over his 
face, lapping away the salty wetness. "Nay, tôren, not of you.  Of the lust, 
aye, and of the dawn.  But not of you."

My own tears well in relief as he calms, returning my kisses with aching
tenderness.  The pull strengthens once more, but the mindless hunger is
gone, replaced by a smoldering warmth that at once arouses and reassures.
"The dawn will find us as it always has, rohir nín," he promises, his breath
tickling my ear torturously.  "I swear it."


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

~Elladan~

The veil between us has grown gossamer thin.  I can feel the heat of his
need, of his desire, and it joins with my own, leaving me breathless and
eager once more.  My hand reaches for the oil as though of its own
volition, and our eyes meet as the heady scent of sandalwood fills the air.

With trembling hands, I drizzle a thin stream of the sweet smelling liquid
over my twitching length and Roh's fingers close around me, spreading the
slippery fluid, drawing strange, feral sounds from my throat.  I seize his
wrist in warning, and he spreads his legs, knees raised in willing
submission.

Swallowing with difficulty, I stare mesmerized at his offered entrance, 
still slightly stretched and abraded from Glorfindel's attentions.  My own
bottom is tender, and 'Roh was surely subjected to a more vigorous assault
earlier.  Uncertain, I meet his gaze.

**'Roh, are you not…**

**A bit, but 'tis no matter.**

**You could…**

**Are you not sore?**

**Aye, but…**

**Then hush, tôren, and get on with it.**


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

~Elrohir~

I am both touched and exasperated by 'Dan's caution.  It is so like him to
weigh the options, even now, caught in the irresistible tug of our bond.
Focused on my affectionate amusement, I am taken completely by surprise
when his mouth engulfs my swollen shaft, and I rise reflexively to my
elbows.  *"Elladan!"*

He chuckles around my hard flesh, and the vibrations leave me panting
helplessly as his teasing voice echoes in my mind.

**Like that, do you, tôr dithen?**

He does not wait for an answer, and I fall back on the pillows, closing my
eyes as his tongue firmly traces the pulsing vein underneath, then swirls
around the weeping slit, the warm wetness nearly too much to bear.
Elbereth! Good…so good…I need…


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


~Elladan~

A tantalizing echo of his pleasure floods my senses, and my throbbing
arousal twitches painfully, begging for attention.  Even the glide of the
silk sheets over my skin is sweet agony, and as my oiled fingers carefully
breach his body, his pleading whimpers - half pleasure, half pain - have me
writhing against the bed, struggling to hold back the fierce climax that is
building deep in my belly.  I can wait no longer.


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

~Elrohir~

I groan aloud as his weight settles over me once more, solid and
comforting, and my legs wrap eagerly around his waist, urging him closer.
This time there is no fear, and no hesitation.  His hand slides between us,
guiding the unfamiliar movement, and he sheathes himself in one steady
push, drowning my pained gasps in a plundering kiss as his disjointed
thoughts invade my head.

**I am sorry, tôren …so sorry…hurt you…Melin chen…oh, gods…oh…yes…**


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

~Elladan~

The veil is torn, and his pain rushes through me - a red-hot burning and
stretching that takes my breath - yet it is overlaid with my own pleasure,
and I cannot stop until I am buried completely in him, our foreheads
pressed together, his arousal trapped firmly between our trembling bodies.

His hand touches my cheek, gently, and I know the wonder in his face is
reflected in my own.


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

~Elrohir~

I am awash in sensation, in swirling thoughts and emotions.  His pleasure
becomes mine, and my pain eases and then evaporates as it flows freely
between us.


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

~Elladan~

Our thoughts flow unchecked, mingling and melding until…


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

~Elrohir~

…'his' and 'mine' have no meaning.  Entranced, we watch as a silvery
shimmer envelops our bodies.


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

~Elladan~

So warm…we have never felt so warm, so…


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

**…whole.  I am whole.  The sense of belonging, of completeness, brings
tears to my eyes.  I never knew…'tis unlike anything I have ever felt, yet 
it is familiar, an echo of a time before my begetting.

It was for this moment that I have yearned these last years - this coupling
of bodies, this fusing of soul.   I am content.

And yet, already the maelstrom of pleasure threatens.  The aching
sweetness of my joining - of being both master and mastered, hard and
soft, sword and sheath - quickly becomes unbearable.

With a pained whimper I begin to move, slowly at first, reluctant to end it,
and then faster, more urgently.  I am caught up in the spiraling sensations,
edging closer and closer to completion, until finally there is blinding 
light and flooding warmth, and the slow sundering of my soul.**


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

Elrohir woke to the sound of birdsong just as the first delicate streaks of
pink began to color the sky.  Wrapped snugly in his brother's arms, he
drew a deep breath.  "'Tis dawn, el nín," he whispered quietly, smiling as
Elladan's embrace tightened around him.

**And we are as we have always been.**



--Elvish Translations:

tôren - my brother
tôren einior - my elder brother
rohir nín - my knight
guren - my heart
faeren - my soul
Adar, Ada - Father, Dad
Naneth, Nana - Mother, Mom
tôr dithen - little brother
Melin chen - I love you
el nín - my star


***Afterthoughts***


~Elrohir~

We dress in silence, my brother-lover and I, each lost in private musings.

My abused backside protests as I reach for my boots, and my wince of
discomfort is not lost on ‘Dan, who grins weakly, looking distinctly
culpable.

**You are sore, tôren.**

**Aye, a bit, el nín.  But ‘tis no matter.  I am well paid for my pain.**

**Melin chen, ‘Roh.  I could help you with the salve.**

**Melin chen, ‘Dan.  But I managed the salve already . . .**

“And I have done enough,” he chuckles, wrapping both arms around me
snugly, his nose buried in my unbound hair.  A delicious warmth envelops
me at the touch of his skin, and the beloved scent of him rolls over me as
never before.

There is a sense of peace, of belonging, that I have never known outside
our joining.  I feel him - sense his mood, his thoughts - more clearly than
ever.  And I am humbled by the depth of his love for me.

The blazing anger and jealously of last eve seem foolish indeed in the
clear light of this morn.  How wrong I was to fear that another could come
between us, could take him from me.  There is no “between us”.   We are
one faer, one entity, the meaningless space between our physical forms
bridged by our unbreakable bond.


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

~Elladan~

I hold him tightly, my guilt washed away by the fierce warmth of his love.
Never before has he been so open to me- his thoughts, his emotions nearly
as my own.   *This* is what it means to be truly bound - our birth-bond
sealed by conscious choice.  He is mine forever, as I am his.  There is
naught that can sunder us.  No lover, no amount of anger . . . no choice.

My elation is dampened suddenly by thoughts of Ada, and his twin.  Our
mortal uncle, who died so long before our birth.   That they were once
lovers seems certain.  But what of their bond?  Did it remain somehow
unsealed, or was it broken . . . and by what force?  And how has Ada
survived, if they were as we have become?

**Let it be, melethen.  Do not darken today with thoughts of choices long
made.**

My arms tighten around him, and I inhale deeply, his familiar scent at
once comforting and arousing.

**I cannot lose you, rohir nín.**

**Nor I you, tôren.**

I pull away slightly to meet his clear grey eyes,  reassured by the promise
glowing there.  Shaking off the last traces of sadness, I press a fleeting 
kiss to his lips and step back reluctantly.  “It is long past the final chimes for
breakfast.  If we are going, we had best make haste.”

‘Roh reaches for brush and beads, quickly weaving my hair into a single
thick braid.  A satisfied grin flits across his face as he turns expectantly, 
and I raise an eyebrow in question, but he merely shakes his head, handing
me the brush.

His hair is like silk in my hands, heavy and flowing, and the mithril beads
gleam like stars against the ebony strands.  Tying off the finished plait, I
glance in the mirror before us,  and the reason for my brother’s smirking
smile becomes clear.  Fading bruises march down the side of my throat,
and ‘Roh’s translucent skin bears a glowing rosy-purple stain, the imprint
of my teeth still clear at its edges.

It is quite clear how we have spent our night.  Touching the tender skin
gently, I meet his sparkling gaze. “Mayhap side braids would have served
us better.”

“Nay, ‘Dan,” he replies, a trace of laughter in his voice.  “Let them look.
There is but one thing lacking.”

Before I can respond, his mouth is on my throat, hot and wet, and I can do
little but cling to the strong  arms that support me as his teeth press hard
into my neck.  I feel the blood pool underneath my skin, and answering
flickers of heat begin to curl in my groin before he pulls away, his
breathing rapid and uneven.

**Now we are ready for breakfast, tôren.**


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

~Glorfindel~

I ease into my chair at the table, my body protesting not only the time
spent with the gwanûn, but Erestor’s determined reclaiming of his
property, as well.  My baleful gaze is met by an amused snort, and a
soothing voice echoes in my mind.

**Never mind, melethen.  I will make it up to you.  Tonight.**

His indigo eyes are aglow, both affection and relief swirling in their
depths.  He, too, is glad to have last night behind us.  My discomfort and
ill humor fade before the warmth of his love, his acceptance, and I break
into an answering smile just as Elladan and Elrohir enter the hall.

The gwanûn are quite late, whether by design or accident, and few remain
at the tables.  Those who have lingered attempt to appear nonchalant, and
fail utterly.   The usual cheery greetings are stilted, the gazes frantic as 
the gathered elves  try to avoid focusing on what is surely the most striking
sight in the chamber: the nearly fluorescent lover’s marks that adorn both
pale throats.

That they are not *my* marks is certain.  The imprints are far too deep, the
colors too vivid. ‘Adan, in particular, looks as though blood might flow
from beneath the translucent skin of his neck at any moment.  They greet
me, as always, with a quick clasp of my shoulder, and I surrender the last
of my uncertainty with a thankful sigh.   It seems that nothing has
changed.

As the gwanûn move to greet Erestor, I risk a glance at Elrond.  Surely the
sight of his sons, their bond so obviously consummated, holds pain for
him, as well as joy.  His face is a calm mask, but his twilight eyes are
suspiciously bright, and he returns my concerned look with a sad smile.

My attention turns back to the others, Elladan’s quiet “Hannon chen”
reaching my ears, too, though it was meant for my mate.  Erestor returns
the offered embrace warmly, then leans toward ‘Rohir’s beckoning hand,
dropping his head to better catch the whispered words.

A hiss of “*‘Roh!*” slices through the air, and ‘Adan turns a reproachful
gaze on his smirking brother.

Erestor’s face is scarlet-hued, his expression an odd mix of horror and
amusement.  Elrohir pats Erestor on the shoulder with a grin, then turns
his attention to greeting Elrond.  Meeting my bonded’s bemused gaze, I
probe tentatively.

**What did he say?**

**‘Tis best not repeated, melethen.  He asked a question, that is all.**

**A question?  That caused you to color so?**

Sighing in resignation, Erestor nods slightly.

**Aye.  He asked how I manage to walk.**


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

~Elrond~

It is done.  As my sons walk into the hall, innocents no longer, I
immediately sense the change in them, in their bond.  I realize, as few do,
the true meaning of those blatant marks of possession that they wear so
openly.

Tears sting my eyes as I watch them greet Glorfindel and Erestor.  It is a
bittersweet triumph for me.  I have guarded the gwanûn since birth,
carefully fostering the deepening of their attachment.  Encouraging their
dependence, protecting them from those who would look askance, teaching them 
to treasure their bond as the sacred gift that it is.  And yet. . .

They are no longer mine.  Never again will ‘Adan turn first to me for
advice and comfort, nor ‘Rohir seek my aid in calming his brother’s ire at
a joke gone awry.   No longer . . .

Elrohir breaks into my sober thoughts with an exuberant embrace, his eyes
dancing with mirth - apparently at Erestor’s expense, if my chief advisor’s
vivid blush is any indication.  It is impossible to remain solemn when
‘Rohir grins, and I smile in spite of myself as I squeeze him tightly.

He is like quicksilver, my younger son - his moods mercurial, his decisions
often rash.  He loves and hates with the same reckless abandon.   There is
much of Elros in him, and that realization has oft chilled me, darkening
my dreams and haunting my waking thoughts.   I will not surrender my
son - *my sons* - without a struggle.

Elrohir steps back to make room for his brother, and suddenly silver-grey
eyes are searching my face intently, seeing too much, understanding things
best left alone.   “Melin chen, Ada,” Elladan whispers, embracing me
fiercely, and for one final moment he is simply my eldest - my heir, my
hope . . . the one who is like me.  Then he is back at ‘Rohir’s side.

And that is as it should be.



~*~Finis~*~


--Elvish Translations:

tôren - my brother
el nín - my star
Melin chen - I love you
faer - soul, spirit
Ada - Dad
melethen - my love
rohir nín - my knight
gwanûn - twins
Hannon chen - Thank you