Title: A Friendly Game of Cards
Author: Khylaren, Orchyd Constyne, Cinnamongrrl, Alex
Contact: Khylaren@yahoo.com
Fandom: LOTR
Rating: NC17
Beta: Larien Elengasse
Warnings: explicit homoerotic content
Pairing: Legolas/Rúmil (Legolas/Haldir and Legolas/Orophin implied)

Summary:  The Fellowship takes a rest in the safety of Lothlórien, and Legolas gets involved in a game of cards with Haldir, Rúmil, and Orophin.

Note: This was a Round Robin done in LJ. For those who don’t know what a Round Robin is – one person writes a little, then hands it off to the next writer, and so on. This was interesting because one of us (I won’t name any names) has never ever written anything remotely slashy. It was extremely interesting because she was the one who wrote the first of the slashier bits! HAR!

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Legolas looked up in confusion, blinking sleepily at Rúmil. He could not figure out how he had lost his pants during the course of the evening, or how he came to be sleeping in the same, narrow bed with Haldir's youngest brother.

He heard a noise and jumped as an arm flung itself across his naked waist. Turning, his confusion only grew as he realized it was Orophin who lay curled against his back.  His confusion worsened when he saw the covers move at the foot of the bed, and saw the distinctive silver hair of the captain of the Galadhrim peeking out from underneath.

Bits and pieces of memory filtered through his sleep-fogged brain. Sharing wine with Rúmil, Orophin, and Haldir. Playing cards with the three guardians until he had lost what little money he had to gamble with. Haldir raising his eyebrows and suggesting....suggesting...

Legolas closed his eyes and leaned weakly against the pillow, ignoring the snuggling elves surrounding him.

An article of clothing for each game lost

And the wine had flowed as freely as the Nimrodel.

The Prince stole a glance beneath the bedclothes. He decided that he must have won at least as often as he lost, judging by the state of undress of his bedmates. Or... wait. More fragments from the previous evening began floating back into Legolas' mind. 

He'd run out of clothes quickly, hadn't he? Then someone had proposed a way for Legolas to win back his clothing. Rúmil, the innocent one (or so the Sinda had thought), came up with the notion that any player without clothing would have to perform a 'favor' for the winner of the round.

Legolas had agreed, wagering that his losing streak could not continue indefinitely, and even if he lost, what harm could there be? The March Wardens surely had some degree of protocol and would not ask the Crown Prince of Mirkwood to do anything... unseemly.

Alas. It would seem that his father's notoriously rotten luck was genetic, for Legolas had swiftly lost yet again and stood, baffled and more than a little embarrassed, before the winner as he awaited that elf's choice of favor.

"I wish you to sing my praises to the wondrously-fair elleth, Brilthor," Orophin had said somewhat despondently, eyes glazing over at the idea of the she-elf, "for she shall have nothing to do with me, and my heart is nigh to aching for her. Perhaps your silver tongue can work some magic where mine has not." 

Then a frowning Haldir smacked him in the back of the head. "I remind you once more, brother, to remember this is a slash story," the Marchwarden informed Orophin haughtily as the latter blinked in surprise and rubbed his head. Haldir turned his attention toward the prince, bright gaze promising much, and all of it of the naughty variety. "There are far preferable uses for Legolas' silver tongue than the wooing of a female." 

"As for your silver tongue, muindor..." Haldir slipped his arm around Orophin's waist and drew him close, warm palm drawing lazy circles on the bare skin of his brother's back, "There are better uses for that, too."

Legolas closed his eyes and fell back as memories of the night assailed him. Elves did not behave like this in Mirkwood! He watched horrified as Haldir kissed Orophin... a long wet kiss. 

He was so preoccupied with watching in horror... well, a little horror, mostly lust... that he didn't notice the hand creeping up his thigh until it had crept all the way up and was teasing the area where his leg joined to his body. He jerked back and looked at Rúmil, who smiled a shark's smile at him.

"You lost... and have no more clothes to pay." 

"But I lost to Orophin!" 

"Orophin, Haldir, it doesn't matter. They are busy so I will take the payment instead, " Rúmil was looking down right predatory as he advanced on Legolas... 

Then Legolas could not remember any more at all!

He wondered if that were a blessing or a curse.

Rúmil sighed in his sleep, snuggling unconsciously against Legolas’ chest. He looked down at the sleeping elf, and an idea began to form, inspired by the vague memories of the previous night. It simply was not fair that he could not remember what Rúmil’s penalty had been. Therefore, he would question him.

As thoroughly and persuasively as he knew how.

Rúmil squeaked in surprise as Legolas pounced on him, effectively pinning him to the mattress with his weight.

“Maur aur, Rúmil,” Legolas purred, smiling wickedly down at the startled elf. “Sleep well?”

“M-maer aur, Legolas,” Rúmil stammered. “Yes.” He swallowed nervously, made suddenly aware of the precariousness of his position by the press of Legolas’ thigh against his more tender areas. He swallowed again. “You are not angry about last night, are you?”

Legolas smiled, lifting an eyebrow as he regarded Rúmil. “That depends,” he replied slowly. “What exactly happened last night?”

The Lórien Elf's eyes widened. "You mean you do not remember?" Legolas' scowl confirmed the assumption. "It was just a game, Legolas. You seemed to have fun at the time."

"At the time," Legolas almost growled, "I was drunk. Now answer my question."

"Ho, ho!" came a voice from behind the Mirkwood Prince. "What's the matter, ernilen? Did you not get enough of that last night?" Haldir quipped, voice thick with laughter.

"Enough of what?" Legolas hissed.

Rúmil looked past the Sinda and into his brother's eyes pleadingly. "He doesn't remember, Haldir."

"Well," the eldest Marchwarden said at length, "if you do not remember, why should we tell you?"

In a flash, Legolas was on his feet and holding a small dagger to Haldir's throat. "Because if you do not, I assure you, you will be sorry." Starlight glimmered off the white mithril blade and his nude body. "I do not like being toyed with." He glared ferociously at all three of them, but they said nothing, seeming content to just stare appreciatively at him.

"Where were you hiding that?" asked Rúmil admiringly. "Do I even want to know?"

An angry breath hissed out between Legolas' teeth, and he drew the blade down in a low arc until the point was pressing just barely into Haldir's nipple. Haldir seemed to realize how utterly serious Legolas was, for his back stiffened and the smug expression faded from his face.

Orophin, however, was as oblivious as ever. "Oh, after the fun we had last night, there's no need for that sort of naughty game," he scolded lightly, and plucked the little knife from Legolas' hand to toss it backwards over his own shoulder. "All we did, Legolas, was have the tickle-fight to end all tickle-fights. There was lots of rolling around and fingers where they shouldn't be. You laughed so hard you almost threw up, Haldir nearly wet himself, Rúmil fell off the bed and hit his head--" here, Rúmil rubbed a presumably sore spot on his shining golden head and blinked up at Legolas with pitiful eyes-- "and in the end, I won."

Legolas returned Rumil's gaze with a steely one of his own. "So, before, you were only going to tickle me?"

Rumil blushed a deep and extremely attractive hue of pink. "Er, yes. Of course," he replied in a thoroughly unconvincing way. 

Haldir snorted skeptically, but Orophin just beamed sunnily at Legolas. "See? It was all just a misunderstanding."

Legolas did not believe a word of it... not one word. He was really quite sore in some odd places. But he smiled at them, those three devious brothers, and acted as if he did believe Orophin. 

He began to search for his clothing but he wasn't finding it... nor any other clothing either for that matter. No weapons but his tiny knife... and Orophin had cleverly thrown it away. He looked from one brother to the other. They all seemed to be looking at him to see if he was convinced that they were telling him the truth. 

He decided to go along with them. 

"So how did you win exactly?" He asked Orophin.

“He cheated,” Rúmil muttered.

“I did not cheat,” Orophin protested. “No one said that kissing was against the rules.”

Legolas blinked. “You kissed me?”

Orophin nodded. “Oh yes. It was quite nice, too. You really are quite good at kissing.”  

“I thought so, too,” Rúmil agreed. 

“Among other things,” Haldir added dryly.

Legolas touched his lips with his fingers and stared at the three Galadhrim. “I kissed all three of you?”

“It was more that we kissed you,” Rúmil explained helpfully. “Though you did kiss us back.”

“That was what ended the tickle-fight,” Orophin said. “You declared me the winner by default.”

“I see,” Legolas said, not seeing at all. “Dare I ask what happened then?”

Orophin swallowed uncomfortably and looked at his brothers with an expression of pleading. Haldir cleared his throat and jumped in to rescue his little brother. "Why, to the winner go the spoils, of course!"

The Prince rounded on Haldir, eyes flashing dangerously. "What. Spoils."

Haldir turned his back on Legolas, displaying a crisscross of red welts across his behind. The Marchwarden looked over his shoulder at Legolas. "These spoils. Although I'll warrant yours are much nicer; you did seem to enjoy it awfully much."

Legolas looked with wide eyes, then gingerly slid a hand around to his buttocks. Well, that certainly went some distance to explaining why he was sore, the Mirkwood Elf thought as his fingers brushed the tender bruised skin. "You tied down a Prince of Mirkwood and beat him?!"

Orophin laughed, a short barking sound. "Tied? Rúmil had to be tied. You just grabbed the chair and gritted your teeth! You're not joking, are you? You *really* don't remember?"

Dimly, Legolas felt a memory begin to creep back toward him, edging in crabwise as if afraid of his reaction. There had been tickling, then laughing until he thought he might be sick, then Rúmil’s proposal that if he chose to forego tickling for spanking, he for one had no objection.

And then Legolas recalled his own insistence that if he were getting spanked, they all were. And, with dawning horror, also recalled the delight that met his suggestion by all but one of the Galadhrim brothers. Rúmil enjoyed wielding the paddle, but not receiving its not-so-tender ministrations. Hence the need to tie him up before spanking him until the tender, smooth flesh of his buttocks was bright pink.

And then Legolas remembered the most unsettling thing of all about the entire night, the thing which had probably driven him to forgetting the entirety of it: the fact that he, himself, had paddled not only the reluctant Rúmil, but also Orophin and Haldir. After that, all was blank once more.

Had he enjoyed it? That, blessedly, was still hidden in the depths of his mind, no doubt by the powerful sense of embarrassment that even now was firing his cheeks to a shade of pink that rivaled Rúmil’s backside.

"Ah, so he does remember!" cried Orophin with delight. "Ah, but you are masterful with the paddle, my prince." Then he sobered. "I am sure fair Brilthor would be masterful as well." His wistful comment was accompanied by a heartfelt sigh, and he stared out of the talan window in her direction. "If only she would acknowledge my suit of her. Or even my mere existence! Then, I would die a happy elf."

Haldir's hand connected sharply with the back of his brother's head a second time. "Orophin, do not be dense." He flexed his shoulders showily; Rúmil’s blue eyes widened with appreciation and even Legolas was hard-pressed to ignore the rippling of muscles. "Brilthor will have nothing to do with you because it is as clear as the water in Galadriel's mirror that you are the gayest elf to nance down the pike since dear Legolas here left Mirkwood."

Orophin's gasp of dismay was accompanied by Legolas' gasp of indignation. "I do not know why you would think me the sort to prefer the company of males to females," Legolas replied somewhat snootily.

"Hm," Haldir retorted. "I do not know, either. It might have been the enormous erection you had the entirety of the tickling." He placed a fingertip on his jaw, pretending to be wondering. "Or perhaps it was how you shouted my name when you poured yourself down my throat." His eyes gleamed with entirely too much snark for Legolas' comfort. "But, really, I'm think it was the way you pounded Orophin so hard into the mattress that the entire bed moved across the floor."

Legolas gasped again, this time as his gaze followed the line of Haldir's pointing finger to see the marks across the wooden floor of the talan. Sure enough, there were scrapes reaching from one side of the chamber to the other. "Surely, I did not do that."

"Yes, you did," Orophin replied dreamily, his voice soft and eyes happily glazed as he thought back upon it. "Oh, 'twas wondrous."

Legolas only let out a strangled-sounding "gah!" and turned away to search once more for his missing clothing.

As he searched, eyes focused anywhere but on the Galadhrim brothers, a thought occurred to him. Rúmil had said little. He knew they tied Rúmil... he remembered the paddling and the evidence was plain to see. He looked at the quiet brother. What was that look? Rúmil was very reluctant to be spanked, had not seemed to like it nearly as much as Legolas, in fact. 

But he could not, for the life of him, remember what else happened. 

He abandoned his search for his clothes. They were well hidden, thanks to Orophin, he expected. He moved closer to Rúmil, touched him on the shoulder. 

"Rúmil, what else happened last night?" 

Rúmil did not answer him, turned away from him. Legolas felt a stab of... guilt? What had he done? 

"Rúmil?"

“Perhaps we should see about finding breakfast, Orophin,” Haldir said quietly, tugging at his brother’s arm. “Where did you hide our clothes?”

Legolas saw Orophin dig beneath the bed for their hidden clothing, but kept his gaze on Rúmil. He was both worried and grateful that Haldir had the sense to know that whatever needed to be said between him and Rúmil, they needed privacy for it.

The two Galadhrim dressed quickly and left, Haldir darting a meaningful look over his shoulder before stepping out of the talan that Legolas could not decipher.

“Talk to me, Rúmil,” Legolas pleaded quietly. “What is wrong?”

“You really do not remember, do you?” Rúmil lifted his head and looked at Legolas with an expression of hurt. “I would have thought what you said last night would have meant enough that you would have at least remembered it this morning!”

“You know Mirkwood Elves cannot hold their wine.” Legolas’ attempt at humor fell painfully flat. “I am sorry I cannot remember. Will you tell me?”

Rúmil sat on the edge of the bed, his elbows on his knees, resting his head in his hands. He seemed utterly unconcerned that both he and Legolas were still naked.

“You said a lot of things,” Rúmil said finally, lifting his head from his hands and gazing at Legolas. His eyes were suspiciously bright. “You said you loved me.” 

Legolas blinked. “So it is not the spanking part that has you so upset?” He was trying very hard to ignore the fact that Rúmil had just told him he had declared his love for another male elf. One problem at a time, that was his Adar’s motto, and Legolas found himself adhering to it with all his strength.

"Did you not hear me?" Rúmil asked, mistaking the Prince's question for another feeble attempt at levity. "I said, you told me you loved me, and I returned the sentiment." The young March Warden's voice began to waiver and he said nothing further.

"Rúmil," Legolas said gently, "I think very highly of you and have always valued our friendship, but I cannot be held responsible for things I may have said in the thrall of too much drink." The Mirkwood Elf wished he could somehow ease the blow his words were causing, but he did not love Rúmil. He couldn't. The whole idea was preposterous!

Rúmil raised his eyes to meet the sapphire regard steadily. "My Iaurada always said that wine makes truthsayers of us all. He said you can always trust the words of a drunkard because he does not feel the need to protect himself or hide his true feelings the way he does when he is sober."

Legolas shook his head. "Rúmil, I was drunk! I probably spoke words of love to all three of you!"

"No," Rúmil said, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You told Haldir he was an overdressed fop and Orophin was a great fool for not putting him in his place, since it was so obvious he wanted to."

Legolas felt his last thread of patience snap. "Well, it is obvious," he said. "It couldn't be more obvious if Orophin painted the words 'I want to shag you senseless' on his chest and danced around Haldir with a lembas on his head." He huffed out an angry breath. "Insane Galadhrim," he muttered. "I should never have left Mirkwood. Giant spiders are easier to deal with."

At this, Rumil got gracefully to his feet and approached Legolas. "Ah, but then, my prince," he purred, "if you had never left Mirkwood, I'd have never gotten the chance to do this." And he threaded the fingers of one hand into the tangled gold of Legolas' hair, bringing his face closer for a kiss. Legolas pushed lightly against Rumil's chest, refusing to acknowledge the silken texture of the skin under his fingertips. Rumil was of the same height, and stared into his eyes an endless moment before bringing his face closer once more. This time, entranced by the other elf's beauty and desire, he allowed the kiss.

Rumil's lips, sweet and pink, were also soft and smooth and Legolas found himself sighing against them, parting his own to trace them with his tongue and investigate. He glided his tongue over the even line of Rumil's teeth and beyond, feeling the velvet of Rumil's own tongue before it came to tangle with his. 

Suddenly, the slow kiss of exploration turned hotter and more urgent. Rumil's hand fisted in Legolas' hair, and he dropped the other one to Legolas' hip, clasping it and bringing their lower bodies into full contact. At the first brust of scalding-hot arousal against his belly, Legolas jerked. He himself was painfully excited, and when Rumil touched a finger to the tip of his shaft, he felt it twitch and strain toward the stimulus.

"There is at least one part of you unable to lie about wanting me," Rumil groaned against his mouth, and wrapped his strong hand around its length. He stroked it a brief moment, drinking the faint moans of passion that escaped Legolas, before suddenly dropping to his knees. "I can wait no longer," he declared. "The time between last night's savouring of your taste has been far too long."

Then he took Legolas' member into his mouth to the base, and Legolas found himself clutching at the silver-gold head that bobbed on him. "Ai," he breathed, then repeated it somewhat more shrilly when Rumil's fingers, slick from saliva and the pearls of fluid that seeped from Legolas, found their way around his hips to the firmly rounded cheeks of his backside, and into the tight ring of muscle hidden between.

Legolas convulsed at the sensation of both filling and being filled at the same time, and just as he would have given himself over to the pleasure, heard the last thing he'd ever have wanted to hear at that momentous occasion: Haldir's voice, calling his name. Eyes flying open, he saw the marchwarden standing at the doorway to the talan, face smug and satisfied with the sight before him. Rúmil would not stop his ministrations, however, and with the suction around his shaft and the fingers impaling him so sweetly and Haldir's handsome face swimming before him, Legolas did the only thing he could do. 

He came.

Shame washed over the Mirkwood prince, shame and intense pleasure in almost equal measures.  His semen filled Rúmil’s mouth at the same time he glanced over again at the marchwarden. Haldir's eyes were dark as he watched his brother pleasure Legolas.

Legolas lowered his eyes and let himself be taken by the intense sensation. 

Soon he was spent, his trembling legs having a little trouble supporting his body. Rúmil rose and held him, steadying him, his own still engorged cock pressing against the prince as a reminder that only one of them was satisfied. 

But Legolas only indulged in such things when he was drunk. An heir of Mirkwood did not allow himself to be taken by anyone... ever. His father would have one of his Royal Fits. 

He looked into the Galadhrim's hungry blue eyes and saw much more than lust. He saw the brother's true feeling reflected back at him. He meant to turn his back and walk away but instead he whispered, "Have me if you wish, Rúmil of Lórien."

Strong hands gripped his waist, pulling him back against an equally strong chest.

"I do not think so, ernilen," Haldir's low voice caressed his ear. "You are much too weary to give my muindor the sport he requires."

"And I suppose you are fresh enough to satisfy him?" Legolas shot back, stung at the implication he could not.

Haldir's lips brushed teasingly across the curve of Legolas' ear as he continued. "I have more practice as such things than you."  He turned the prince in his arms, his hands sliding possessively down his back. "'Twas not meant as an insult to your prowess, ernil vain."

Before Legolas could voice much protest, Haldir kissed him, thoroughly. 

“Now, lay there on the bed, ernilen,” Haldir purred softly, stroking his body with skillful hands. “I will show you how Rúmil truly likes to play.”

Legolas shot Rúmil a glance, and was surprised to see the Lórien elf’s expression of trepidation and lust. Nodding to Haldir, Legolas reclined on the bed, curious to see what Haldir’s words truly meant.

Rúmil’s body visibly quivered as Haldir circled him slowly, stalking him like prey. His startled gasp when Haldir grabbed his arms and pulled them behind his back was muffled by the press of his brother’s mouth. Legolas heard a low moan escape Rúmil, his lithe body yielding against Haldir’s chest as his brother plundered his mouth hungrily. 

With a low growl, Haldir released Rúmil’s lips, his own lips ghosting over the pointed tip of his brother’s ear. “I am going to take you, muindor, in front of our lovely prince.” Haldir transferred his hold of Rúmil’s hands into one tight grip, and his fingers drifted slowly over the curve of his brother’s buttocks. “I am going to show him how to quench the fire that burns in your veins.” His fingers brushed the puckered opening between Rúmil’s buttocks, making his brother quiver again. “You are going to beg for him, plead for him, and come for him.” His grip tightened on Rúmil’s wrists and he held his brother’s glazed eyes with his own, merciless, hungry gaze. “Is that understood, muindor?”

Rúmil managed a faint nod, swallowing audibly. “Aye,” he whispered. 

Haldir smirked. "Then moisten my spear so that I might impale you upon it," he ordered cheekily as he lay back upon the rumpled bed.

Rúmil's eyes widened as he began to realize what was being asked of him. He paused only a breath, though, then hastily moved to comply. He pulled out a phial of sweet-smelling oil from the bedside table and dripped a hearty portion on his brother's stiff rod. He used both hands to stroke Haldir's cock, coating it with the slick fluid. 

Haldir's eyes closed at the gentle sensations, but his hunger was for other activities. "Now, Rúmil; I will have you now. Let our prince see how you like to be pleasured."

The younger Marchwarden moved to straddle Haldir's hips, facing away from his brother. He slowly lowered himself, working Haldir's arousal into his tight passage, groaning at the intrusion.

"Touch yourself for Legolas, dear brother," Haldir moaned as he began thrusting his hips up against Rúmil's trembling body.

But no sooner had Rumil wrapped his fingers around his hard, leaking shaft than light footsteps were once again heard, and there was Orophin, staring at the tableau before him, pink lips in a perfect O of shock before comprehension crashed down on him. He saw how eagerly Rumil took their brother within, saw the grip of Haldir's hands on Rumil's hips at being sheathed so perfectly. He saw Legolas laying satisfied and sleepy close by, watching with interest. And then he saw red.

With a single stride, Orophin was across the room and grasping Rumil's arms, heaving him up and off Haldir. "You," he addressed Haldir, whose eyes-- closed in pleasure-- blinked open in surprise. "I have longed for you for a decade, and well you have known it." He slapped his hand down on the table beside the bed, eyes and cheeks blazing with anger. "You have known it, and taunted me with it, withholding yourself from me until I am near to frenzied." 

Orophin motioned to Rumil, who lay sprawled out over the bed where his brother had tossed him, watching in amazement as the usually mild-mannered Orophin lost his temper. "Always you have told me 'tis because we are brothers, yet I find you sunk to the base inside Rumil!" Shoulders trembling, he worked hard to control his voice. "You are a liar and a hypocrite, Haldir.” 

He turned away, stalking to the ladder leading to the ground, but Haldir was there first. “You will not interrupt me, shout at me, and then leave me all in the space of the same minute,” the marchwarden said in a soft, dangerous voice. “If you want me that badly, you shall have me.”

Orophin lifted his chin. “Aye, I shall have you, but on my own terms.” And he grabbed Haldir’s shoulders, yanking him close enough for a kiss. The kiss was brutal, utterly without romance: more a clashing of lips and teeth and tongues than a meeting of them. Passion flared immediately as each fought against the other for dominance, struggling to make their way to the bed even as it became clear that each wanted to be on top. 

But fierce ardor wins over cool arrogance, and it was Orophin who pushed Haldir to the bed, swiftly rolling him over to his stomach before straddling his hips. “Is this what you like?” he demanded when he slid his hard member between the firm cheeks of Haldir’s ass, rubbing repeatedly over the dark entrance to his brother’s body and causing moans to issue from Haldir’s mouth. “You want me to be rough with you, instead of showing my adoration and tenderness?”

In response, Haldir bucked, trying to unseat Orophin, but the other elf had lowered himself to lay upon Haldir fully and begun laving his shoulders and back with wet, open-mouthed kisses that made the haughty warden whimper in spite of himself. Orophin worked his way down, hands massaging and lips soothing, until the tension and fight had gone out of Haldir. And when he first touched the tip of his tongue to the rosebud of Haldir’s bottom, the other not only endured it, but raised his hips for more, with a lengthy groan of submission. 

Orophin pulled away immediately, earning another groan, this one of frustration. “Now you are aware of how bitter it tastes, to be left unfulfilled,” he told Haldir even as he reached for the same vial of oil Rúmil had used on Haldir. Slicking some on himself, he positioned himself at Haldir’s entrance. “After so long, I cannot be bothered to wait to prepare you,” he said, and all assembled were surprised at the hint of malice in his voice. Haldir began to struggle again, but it only served to push him back onto Orophin’s erection. With a mewling sob, Haldir went obviously limp, trying to make it as easy for himself as possible. 

Orophin slid in, and threw back his head in ecstasy. “I knew it would be so,” he gasped. “So tight, and hot, like I am on fire.” His hands gripped Haldir’s hips, and he began to pump smoothly. ‘Haldir, you must forgive me for this,” he gritted out. “I love you so, and you have been so cruel… “ 

“I forgive you,” Haldir replied breathlessly, raising up as the discomfort of his brother’s intrusion was replaced by growing pleasure. “I forgive you, only do not stop.”

“I will never stop,” Orophin replied, mouth falling open in blatant lust as waves of ecstasy began to crash over him. “No, never stop.”

Now, all this time, Rúmil and Legolas had been watching in something akin to awe: never in their lives had they seen such a display of wanton lust and desperate love. The expressions on the faces of Orophin and Haldir were those of souls finally made complete, and Legolas was touched. “ ‘Tis beautiful when two become one,” Rúmil whispered, and his eyes were wide and hopeful as they stared into Legolas’. 

Legolas stared back, and saw a depth of devotion and need in Rúmil he had never expected to find in another. He brought his mouth to Rúmil’s kissing him gently. “Still you have not reached completion,” he murmured against the other’s lips. “I would taste you; will you let me?”

Rúmil looked at the Mirkwood elf and Legolas' heart constricted with emotion. Was this what he had hunted and searched for in all the beds he had occupied over the centuries? This lovely warrior? He dropped to his knees, not waiting for an answer. Rúmil was ready... more than ready. His encounter with Haldir had seen to that. 

Legolas looked up into Rúmil’s eyes and smiled then he bent his head to his task, delicately licking the dewy slit until Rúmil made a mewling sound and tangled his hands in the Prince's golden hair. Was this what he waited for? Was this why the she-elves had left him feeling vaguely...empty? 

Legolas let his tongue circle the swollen head, wetting it with the clear sticky fluid and with his own saliva before moving farther down... slowly... inch by slow, slow inch until his nose touched the silvery curls that nestled the long shaft. He smiled around his mouthful when he heard Rúmil sigh loudly, and began to move his head up and down, up and down, swallow and lick, swallow and lick. Neither of them even noticed the brothers who watched intently.

"Legolas!" Rúmil was begging and not even sure what for. 

Legolas was pleasuring him... taking him to heights of pleasure he had not known, nor did he understand why this was so. Legolas felt him give in, felt him let go and was ready when his mouth was filled with the thick, pearly liquid. He swallowed and swallowed again as the Galadhrim spent himself.

Haldir collapsed in Orophin’s arms, feeling deliciously and wondrously sated. Orophin’s soft breathing told him his brother was feeling the same. He heard Rúmil’s soft cry of pleasure and turned, watching as Legolas took him into his mouth and worked the shaft slowly with his lips and tongue.

Orophin’s arms tightened around Haldir as he watched his brother lose himself to Legolas’ touch. “You are mine, Haldir,” he said quietly. “Say it.”

“I am yours, muindor. Forever, if you will have me,” Haldir replied, sighing as Rúmil’s body flushed beautifully in passion. “I wonder how long it will take before our prince discovers he is lost as well.”

Rúmil cried out Legolas’ name, his body shuddering as he spilled his release into the prince’s eager mouth. 

Orophin smiled, feeling his arousal return at the sensual sight before him. “I think, dear muindor, it will not take long at all.”

And to think, it all began with just a simple game of cards.