Reference Room

“And this is what Lord Elrond likes to call the Reference Room,” Erestor’s thin hand swept around the large area. “In this room are tomes and volumes of scholarly pursuit; mostly recent documents, although there are also copies of a few First and Second Age volumes here. We house recent histories, medical tomes, and military strategies, as well as a variety of other topics. Including, I might add, a complete genealogical record of many of the races of Middle-earth.”

“Very nice,” Faramir murmured as he glanced around, not really seeing the library or hearing Erestor’s words at all. His mind cast further back to a time when he was much younger and two Rivendell elves had come to Minas Tirith in search of obscure information found only in the great archives housed beneath the city.

Erestor, aware that he’d lost his audience, pursed his lips and cleared his throat. “If there is something else you’d rather see?”

Faramir instantly snapped back to the present. He’d asked to see Rivendell’s library and it was rude of him to allow his attention to wander after the effort made to accommodate him. “I’m overwhelmed by the amount of knowledge you have stored here.”

Erestor’s lips relaxed into a smug smile. “We take great pride in our archives.”

“With good reason,” Faramir said as he walked around, glancing up at the floor to ceiling bookshelves. Between each set of shelves was a full-length window that allowed plenty of reading light and, in warmer weather, fresh air. Heavy oak and maple tables were scattered about for those who wished to take notes and there were also numerous couches and chairs for the more relaxed reader. “Alas that Minas Tirith’s archives are not so well-preserved.”

“Indeed,” sniffed the Advisor.

“Nonetheless, our time in those archives could not be said to have been anything but informative. And we had no trouble at all finding exactly what we sought therein.”

“Besides some unexpected lore that we hadn’t considered.”

Erestor saw the color rise on Prince Faramir’s cheeks and his thin, dark brow rose in response. He remembered well the mission that took Elrond’s twins to Gondor. Judging from their impish grins and the faint blush on Faramir’s face gave him the distinct impression that there had been more exchanged that simple good will and esoteric knowledge. He bowed to Elladan and Elrohir respectively. “Perhaps you’d care to show Prince Faramir the archives?”

“We’d be delighted,” Elrohir exclaimed as he came fully into the room.

“The pleasure would be ..ours,” Elladan added.

Erestor turned to Faramir. “In that case, providing you do not mind, I shall leave you in capable hands.”

Faramir dragged his gaze from the twin image before him and focused on Erestor. “You have been a delightful as well as informative guide, Master Erestor.”

The thin lips twitched and the dark eyes twinkled. “Should you need anything else, do not hesitate to ask.” He executed another slight bow and, with dark robes rustling, exited the library.

A moment’s pause followed Erestor’s departure as Faramir drank in the sight of Elladan and Elrohir. They were dressed in silver and blue, colors that accentuated their dark hair and olive skins to perfection.

Elrohir sidled up to Faramir. “What else can we show you, Prince Faramir?”

“Elrohir,” Elladan cautioned, remembering that Faramir the Ranger was now Faramir of Ithilien, husband of the sister of the King of Rohan.

“Anything you think I’d find interesting,” Faramir said quickly, forestalling Elladan’s caution.

Elrohir glanced meaningfully at a slanted scribe’s desk.

“You remember that I’ve a fondness for hard woods,” jibed Faramir, more confident with the identical elven princes now that he’d been that first meeting long before the War of the Ring.

The twins threw back their heads and laughed in tandem and the sound was musical.

“And you remember we’ve a penchant for jests and word games,” responded Elladan. He moved even closer to Faramir and breathed the unique male scent. Men, he thought, smelled much differently than elves.

Elrohir slid to Faramir’s left so that the man was squeezed on both sides by gorgeous elf. Glancing from side to side, Faramir realized that even now he could not tell one from the other as long as they remained silent. “Rivendell is a fascinating place,” he said to break the silence.

“There are many sights,” Elrohir leaned close so that his warm breath tickled the prince’s ear.

“Will you show me them?”

Joining in the game, Elladan asked, “Where to start?”

Faramir promptly answered, “I’ve always enjoyed looking at beautiful things.”

“The garden?” Elrohir teased.

“He did say he liked hard woods, Elrohir.”

“Ah, yes, so he did,” Elrohir stroked his hand over Faramir’s buttocks and then squeezed the firm muscles.

Faramir came up on his toes with a soft hiss as strong fingers dug into his flesh. A hand cupped his length and he shivered. Boldly, he reached down on either side and did his own bit of experimental squeezing, much to his and the twins’ delight.

“Where are our manners?” Elladan exclaimed as he pushed against Faramir’s eager palm. “You enjoy rare books, do you not?”

“Absolutely. I am easily lost between the sheets.” Faramir grinned as he was swatted playfully on his behind. “Of a good book.”

“We have a copy of dwarven eroticism.” Elladan boasted.

Faramir’s mouth dropped open for a moment and his mind went completely blank.

“Father keeps it on the second level, next to hobbit mating rituals.” Elrohir pointed up and Faramir noticed the balcony for the first time.

“I see.”

“Do you?” Elrohir tugged Faramir’s hand and led him behind a shelf to where a hidden curved staircase led to the balcony lining the upper reaches. From below, the balcony was barely noticeable and, in fact, to a human, was little more than a catwalk.

Faramir stared at the curving wrought iron staircase and his imagination ran rampant as he considered all the possibilities. Before he could voice any speculations, however, a hand planted itself smoothly in the middle of his back and thrust him forward. Instinctively, he held his hands out before him and he caught himself on the stairs. He locked eyes with Elladan, standing beneath the first curve of the winding stair. From behind, hands slipped beneath his tunic and rubbed up his back along his spine. Faramir arched as warm hands soothed him.

Elladan’s hands slipped between the open stairs and made short work of Faramir’s breeches, deftly unlacing them so that his cock was exposed. “You are as beautiful as I remember,” he mused as he languidly stroked Faramir’s cock.

Faramir laughed uncomfortably. He’d never thought of himself in terms of ‘beautiful’. Handsome, perhaps, but compared to the elves, he did not think beautiful applied and said so.

“You are mistaken,” purred Elrohir from behind. He leaned forward until his ground himself against the firm buttocks and nibbled at Faramir’s ear. “You are very beautiful.” He rained light kisses on the nape of Faramir’s neck, causing the man to shiver.

Hands pulled his breeches down past his hips and Faramir did not know which twin did it, and furthermore, he cared not at all. Warm lips kissed his exposed backside and he grew even harder as he was stroked and petted. “It seems hardly fair,” he mused as a warm, wet tongue flickered between his cheeks. “The last time we met in a library, you two sampled me as if I was a banquet, yet I had barely a taste of you.”

A brief pause followed his observation and a moment later the staircase jarred as Elladan climbed the outside up to Faramir. Sitting down on the step right above the prince, the elf spread his legs wide and leaned back. “Then feast until your heart’s content, Prince.”

Stretching up, Faramir grasped Elladan’s thighs and pulled him closer so that he hovered over the elf. Deftly, he unlaced the silver and blue tunic, exposing rippled muscles and flat, oval nipples. Greedily he latched on to one of them and sucked it into his mouth. He held the disk lightly between his teeth and flicked his tongue back and forth until it constricted and Elladan squirmed and grabbed a handful of Faramir’s hair.

Watching from behind, Elrohir put one hand down his leggings and stroked his own hard member while the other continued to caress Faramir’s hip. Kneeling behind Faramir, he nuzzled between the nether cheeks and stroked over the puckered flesh he found hidden there. Faramir pushed back, encouraging him to push his tongue deep into the opening. His own erection felt incredibly heavy in his hands and pre-cum slicked his fingers and palm. He sac felt heavy and engorged and a deep ache in his loins made him moan.

Moving downward, Faramir kissed and licked a trail to Elladan’s navel. He circled the edge with his tongue and when Elrohir’s tongue penetrated him, he thrust his own into Elladan’s navel. He worked his tongue in unison with Elrohir’s and echoed unconsciously Elladan’s soft moan. The warm wet invasion sent shivers along his spine in a direct line to his nipples, which puckered deliciously, even though they’d not been touched.

“The prince,” hissed Elladan, “has a wicked imagination, brother.”

Faramir briefly raised his head. “I read a great deal,” and then his mouth was on Elladan’s weeping cock and the elf groaned loudly. He sucked greedily, lapping at the sweet fluid dripping from Elladan’s cock, and swirling his tongue over the dark-colored head.

Elrohir gave Faramir one last, lingering swipe with his tongue and then gained his feet. He stood to the side watching as Faramir worshipped Elladan’s cock, taking it fully into his mouth and swallowing and working his tongue along the underside as he slowly raided his head. The process was repeated and Elrohir suppressed a moan. His brother was right; only a wicked imagination could produce such wicked torture.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Elrohir watching him and Faramir resisted the urge to chuckle. The elf’s expression was pure greed. He allowed Elladan to slip from his mouth and he smiled. “What are you waiting for?” His cock dangled heavily between his legs.

Without answering, Elrohir climbed on top of his brother’s thighs and seated himself. Their cocks bounced lightly against one another and Faramir knelt down between their legs and clasped their weeping cocks in his broad hand. Holding them closely, he opened his mouth wide and flipped his tongue over the purple heads and slits. He stroked up and down with his hand, his calluses rough on the tender cocks. Both elves panted as Faramir nipped and teased with his lips and tongue.

When Elladan could take no more, he shoved his brother. “He is having all the fun.”

Faramir’s brow came up and his eyes twinkled. “Surely not all the fun?”

“More than his share,” amended Elladan. He slid down the stairs and his cock bounced, until he was situated between Faramir’s legs.

“I wouldn’t want to deprive you of your share,” Faramir soothed as he held his cock by the root and guided it to Elladan’s mouth. Glancing up, he saw Elrohir wink and then turn over to kneel with his bottom in Faramir’s face. Glad of the invitation, Faramir leaned forward and demonstrated that Men, too, knew many uses for their tongue. He curled his tongue and immediately plunged it into Elrohir as far as it would go and then as quickly withdrew it only to thrust it in again.

Elrohir’s hands curled around the iron stair and he appreciatively wriggled his bottom. Elladan’s hair brushed his thighs as his brother’s head bobbed. His knees threatened to buckle.

“Take him,” Elladan whispered.

Faramir paused and glanced down at Elladan, still sitting comfortably between his thighs.

“Yes,” Elrohir encouraged Faramir.

Pushing his leggings completely around his ankles, Faramir climbed over Elladan to stand behind behind Elrohir and position his cock at the puckered entrance. Slowly, he pushed forward, and the muscles surrounding his cock stretched smooth and white. Deep inner muscles constricted around him and Faramir’s head dropped back and his hair brushed his shoulders. A long sigh escaped his throat and Elrohir moaned softly at the same time. He thrust once and then a second time, feeling the tight passage flex and give. He hit Elrohir’s sensitive nub and the elf yelped.

Faramir felt his own opening being nudged and he leaned over Elrohir, forcing his body to relax and accept Elladan. His passage burned and the muscles protested until the elf unerringly found the spot deep in his body. And suddenly, Faramir needed to move and quickly. He grasped Elrohir’s hips and dug his fingers into the olive colored skin. He thrust deep and pulled back, impaling himself in the process. The combination of tight heat and deep penetration sent him reeling. He began thrusting harder, forcing Elrohir down on his knees on the cold, iron stair even as Elladan forced him deeper into Elrohir.

Peering over Faramir’s shoulder, Elladan could see the red marks on his brother’s hips from the Man’s fingers. He could see his brother’s opening, stretched taut. He stared with rapt fascination as Faramir’s cock slid in and out of his brother’s tiny hole even as he slid in and out of Faramir. Muscles clenched around him, squeezed him, milked him. He held onto Faramir as the pleasure intensified.

Elrohir could barely keep his knees and hands under him as Faramir slammed into him, pushing hard and fast. He heard the Man’s breath whistling between clenched teeth and he heard the soft little moans from his brother. Every move Faramir made stroked his prostate and Elrohir threw back his head and began a long, low keening. His passage tightened as his essence spurted, hot and thick, on to the stairs.

A few more thrusts were all Faramir managed before he, too, spilled himself. With a soft groan, he collapsed forward, still buried deeply inside Elrohir. He lay with his cheek against the elf’s back as Elladan finally reached his own climax with a grunt and groan. Faramir felt the elf’s essence trickle down his inner thigh and knew his own was also trickling down Elrohir’s. They lay entwined for a moment, catching their breaths.

At last, Elladan moved back and helped Faramir to straighten. Together they helped Elladan to his feet. His knees bore the impression of the ornate scrollwork on the wrought iron stairs, but he seemed to neither mind nor notice. As they straightened their clothes, they heard the outer door open and the three quickly assumed an innocent air as Elrond, Lord of Rivendell, came into view.

“Erestor told me you might still be in here.” The Noldor moved gracefully over the tiled floor. “When you’ve finished exploring the reference room, perhaps my sons could be persuaded to show you the stacks.”

Faramir just managed to keep the grin off his face. “The stacks?”

Elrond waved his hand airily. “The general collection. These old tomes are mostly scholarly.”

“Hobbit mating rituals and such,” Faramir glanced up at the balcony he’d not quite managed to see. “I would love to visit the general collection. Your sons know how much I enjoy discovering knew lore. That’s, of course, if they have time. I’m afraid I’ve kept them quite busy explaining elven culture to me.”

Elrohir glanced down at his boots to hide his grin and Elladan cleared his throat. “Perhaps m’lord Faramir would prefer to work from the bottom up?”

Faramir played along. “What’s at the bottom?”

“Men,” Elrohir managed.

“Some of the lost records of the first age,” Elrond said with a frown at his sons.

“The bottom sounds interesting,” agreed Faramir with a straight face. “Thank you for the suggestion, Lord Elrond. “I had wondered what I should do next.”

~*~ End ~*~