Chapter 3

~Imladris 2151 III~

Celebrían looked closely at her sons, concern evident in her soft grey eyes. "They are so solemn, Elrond," she said worriedly, her brow creasing. "It is not normal. They have not behaved so since they were elflings."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Aye, and it tangles around my legs like river-weed," Celebrían retorted with an amused smile, before turning her attention to Arwen and the twins.

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

Turning clouded grey eyes on her, Elladan remained silent for a long moment, then smiled slightly, twisting a strand of his sister’s chocolate-brown hair around one finger. "Nay, little sister, I will not ignore you. It would not be possible, even if I tried."

"Of course not," Arwen said with a smile. "And what of you, Rohir?" she asked, nudging the elf-knight with one finger.

With a heavy sigh, Elrohir shook his head, the smallest of smiles touching his lips. "Nay, Arwen, I know better than to ignore you. It would likely end with my hair sticky and my skin blue."

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

Chuckling, Elladan reached down and pulled Arwen into their chair, burying his nose in her wavy tresses. "It is good to have you back home. What were you up to in Lórien, dare I ask?"

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

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

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

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

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

"If it was such a long day, Perhaps you should go to your bed? It is possible that it would improve both your moods," his sister answered kindly.

Elladan snorted in amusement, a trace of the usual devilment twinkling in his eyes. "Watch your words, Arwen. It would most likely improve my disposition, aye, but it is hardly appropriate advice from my little sister, do you think?"

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

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

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

Arwen looked at her brothers ruefully, then a reluctant smile lit her face. "Aye, I have, indeed. And that is worth a blush, I guess."

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~Mirkwood 2151 III~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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~Imladris 2151 III~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Elladan grinned, untying his brother’s lacings before reaching for his own. "I believe I can manage that, aye. Take those off."

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

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

Elrohir groaned, tangling his hands in the dark tresses that slid tantalizingly across his chest and stomach. "Oh, Valar, ‘Dan..." he panted, tugging his brother back up into a fiery kiss. Arching up, Elrohir rocked his hips slowly, rubbing their hardened lengths together until they both whimpered.

Reaching between their slick bodies, Elladan closed his hand around his brother’s straining erection, drawing another desperate groan from the elf-knight. "Wait...please..." Elrohir gasped, grabbing Elladan’s wrist.

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

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

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

Aye? What is amiss?

Together, el nín. Let go with me.

Allowing the reddened ear to slip from his mouth, Elladan raised his head to meet Elrohir's eyes. Identical midnight-dark glances locked, sending a shiver through both elves, and Elladan smiled wickedly.

Oh, I intend to, rohir nín.

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

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

Elladan growled harshly, returning the fierce hold, digging his fingers into his brother’s buttocks as they writhed together, pale limbs and ebony hair merging into one indiscernible whole. Arching his back forcefully, Elrohir froze for an instant, then groaned wordlessly as his silvery seed spilled over both bodies.

Elladan held the trembling form helplessly, feeling his own groin tighten as the warm wetness splashed across his oversensitized skin. With a last sobbing gasp he reached his own release, shuddering violently in Elrohir's embrace.

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

Was that enough admiration for you, tôren?

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

It was a good start…

*~*~*~*~*

Nana, Naneth - Mama, Mother
tôren - my brother
rohir nín - my knight
el nín - my star