Not One Word

Author: Minuial Nuwing ([email protected])
Beta: Fimbrethiel
Pairing: Elladan/Elrohir
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Serious fluff and EXPLICIT TWINCEST. No plot, not seeking one.
Request: Elladan/Elrohir, NC-17; Fluff, humour, presents, a feast, elflings.
Written for:

Summary: A Fourth Age Yuletide eve in Imladris. Eldarion visits his uncles and the others who remain in the Hidden Valley.

"Honestly, �Adan," Arwen sighed good-naturedly, shaking her head at the multitude of bright red splotches on her firstborn�s tunic, "sometimes he seems more your son than mine."

Elladan chuckled, settling the child more comfortably on his knee before dropping another hothouse strawberry into small, eagerly reaching hands. "I think Estel might take issue with that statement, th�l dithen."

"Your son, Nana," Eldarion explained patiently, with all the wisdom of his four years. "And Papa�s son, too. But I be Uncle Ladan�s boy...and Uncle Elhir�s little warrior," he added hastily, casting an anxious glance at Elrohir, who sat beside them at the treat-littered table.

"That you are, pen neth," the elf-knight agreed, ruffling his nephew�s dark hair affectionately. "Shall we go outside and take on Erestor and his hellions in a snowball fight?"

Eldarion�s answer was a delighted shriek and a dash for his only recently discarded coat, hat and mittens.

"Engaging the enemy again, are you, �Roh?" Elladan teased with a grin, but Elrohir would not be riled.

"I am, indeed. May we count on your throwing arm?"

"Have I ever left your back unprotected?" Elladan countered, bundling Eldarion into the nearly dry wrappings before slipping into his own outerwear. Turning to his sister, he remarked, a bit wistfully, "I suppose you must sit out this particular campaign?"

Arwen smiled, looking down at her own babe-swollen belly. "I suppose so, aye. I will hunt down my husband and request some ridiculous and unavailable delicacy. Such things help him feel needed." Catching at Elrohir�s leather-clad arm, she added, "You must mind Eldarion closely, �Rohir. Remember that he feels the cold quite keenly."

As do you, now.

The words hung between them, unspoken but visible in the dimming of the elf-knight�s sparkling eyes. Arwen sighed, struggling to her feet to draw her brother into a tender embrace. "I am content, and well-loved," she beseeched softly, reaching up to run soothing fingers over his furrowed brow, "and do not count the shortening of my days a loss. I would have you be happy for me...be happy with me, t�ren. We have all gained what we so long sought."

Elrohir nodded, his arms tightening for a moment before he released Arwen with a gentle push. "Off with you, then. We have battles to wage and wars to win."

The last of the somber mood that had fallen on the twins was effectively routed by Eldarion�s excitement as they made their way through the snow-shrouded gardens, toward the heartening sound of elflings� laughter. "Where are they?" the boy demanded, nearly bouncing in his impatience to find his new friends.

"I believe they are over near the sparring ground," Elladan said, swinging Eldarion to his shoulder. "Can you see them now?"

"I see them!" Eldarion sang out, wriggling in anticipation. "Put me down, Uncle Ladan!"

Elladan obediently lowered his nephew to the ground, forcing back a chortle as the tiny figure took off bravely through the deep snow. The drifts had nearly reached Eldarion�s waist when the eldest of Erestor�s five offspring, a lithe, silver-haired elf just past his majority, scooped up the child and settled him, with an ease born of long practice, on one hip.

"I found them, Uncles!" Eldarion called out unnecessarily, smiling a bit bashfully as Erestor and his other younglings emerged from hiding.

"Aye, you found them, and saved us from an ambush, I wager," Elrohir said with a grin, swinging the youngest of the five, an ebony-haired elf-maid with her father�s indigo eyes, through the air until she giggled aloud.

Erestor�s only other daughter, pale-haired and grey-eyed like her mother, was mired in early adolescence, an age that left her hopelessly susceptible to the twins� charms, and she blushed fiercely when Elladan greeted her with an affectionate smile, covering her reddened ears with his hands in mock horror. "You shall lose the tips to the frost, pen neth," he teased, slipping off his own scarf to drape over her head, "and your Nana will skin us all." The arch of one ebony eyebrow effectively silenced the snickering of her brothers, leaving the maid to regain her composure in peace.

Though all of Imladris knew the truth of the bond that Elladan and Elrohir shared, it was, as one young admirer so aptly put it, difficult not to dream.

"Are we going to play, or just stand and watch Celebiel squirm?" one of the middle brothers asked impertinently, gaining himself a glare from Erestor, who had wrapped a comforting arm around his elder daughter.

"Oh, we are going to play," Elrohir announced, in a voice that promised mischief, as he advanced on the elfling. "And I believe we shall begin with a game of...toss Thoron into a snow drift!"

The younglings dissolved into peals of laughter and snow-muffled shrieks of delight as soft white missiles flew haphazardly, striking friend and �enemy� alike, the joyful sounds of the most innocent war echoing throughout the valley.

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

Erestor smiled nostalgically as Arwen took her seat, having settled her over-excited son into his own chair with promises of shiny foil and curling ribbons to come. It seemed not so long ago that the Queen of Gondor herself, a wide-eyed elfling with a multitude of chocolate-brown braids, had wriggled impatiently in the selfsame chair, the Yuletide feast little competition for the starry tree and presents that waited in the Hall of Fire.

And Estel...to one of Erestor�s untold years, it was, indeed, only yesterday that King Elessar had been a wee child roaming the hallways, a flash of grey eyes and a hesitant smile under a shock of dark hair. And now the King of Men returned to his boyhood home, as he had four years earlier, refusing in this to be swayed. As long as Imladris stood, as long as the elves tarried, his children would be born in this Last Homely House, welcomed into the world by the sure hands of their uncle. He would risk neither babe nor bride to the less-skilled healers and midwives of the White City.

"You are quiet, Counselor."

Glorfindel�s rich brogue pulled Erestor back from his musings. "I was remembering, mellonen," Erestor said simply. "The world has changed irrevocably, and yet tonight we celebrate as we have for millennia."

"There is much to be grateful for," Glorfindel agreed, his gaze softening as he looked around the candlelit room. Though Elladan, rather than Elrond, sat at the head of the high table, and the gathering was but a fraction of the size it would have once been, many of those most precious to Glorfindel lingered yet in the valley. Beside him sat Lindir, his lover of many centuries and now his bondmate. And Erestor remained, tied to Middle-earth � like Glorfindel - by loyalty to Elrond�s sons, but also by love of his own Silvan wife, who was not yet ready to quit the land of her birth for unseen shores. The halls that had once rang with the shouts and squeals of Elrond�s children now echoed with the voices and pattering footsteps of Erestor�s wilding brood, and Glorfindel could not have been happier to have it so.

Though this winter�s coming found Thranduil and his kin enjoying the well-earned peace of Eryn Lasgalen, though Celeborn and the last of the Galadhrim lingered yet in Lórien, Glorfindel felt, nay, knew, with foresight honed by both life and death, that the day swiftly approached when Imladris alone would stand with C�rdan�s haven, the last of the legendary elven realms in Middle-earth.

Their twilight had come, beautiful and bittersweet, and all roads led into the West.

Shaking off his sudden melancholy, Glorfindel turned his attention to the bowls and platters being passed from hand-to-hand, the enticing aromas and artfully displayed offerings bringing a smile of anticipation to his face. Wild fowl joined succulent ham and glazed venison, amid a mind-boggling array of vegetables, breads and cheeses. Corn, slow roasted and cut from the cob to be baked in heavy cream and butter... beans, green and crisp, sprinkled with toasted nuts and seeds... mounds of whipped potatoes, and the curious golden-red potatoes the humans called �sweetuns�, baked in their jackets and split at the table, the fluffy center dotted with butter and honey, then sprinkled with nutmeg.

And, as ever, there was wine � the deep red fire of fine Dorwinion, an early gift from Thranduil�s realm, and the pale golden glow of Imladris� own stock, not so widely known but worthy, nonetheless. Only the youngest of the elflings were denied a sip, their glasses filled instead with Taurwen�s much-loved fruit punch.

As plates were emptied, dessert appeared as if by magic - small chocolate cakes, piping-hot apple tarts, and rich, sweet slices of Taurwen�s crustless cheese pie, a creamy blend of soft cheese, eggs, sugar and cream, touched with vanilla and cloves.

As the last bites were taken and chairs pushed back with a round of satisfied sighs, Elladan raised his voice above the cheerful din to announce that miruvor and mulled wine waited in the Hall for the elders, as did a steaming kettle of cocoa for the elflings.

Some things, Glorfindel thought thankfully, never changed.

The tree, as well, was unchanged, though the tiny hands that decorated it lovingly, if haphazardly, now belonged to another generation. The past lingered, still, in the fragile chains of glass beads that Arwen had long ago strung under Celebrían�s watchful eye. And the star that Eldarion, lifted high above his father�s head, had placed atop the tree was the same mithril-and-crystal wonder that had once been carefully placed by not two hands, but four, neither of the young twins willing to accept the honor alone.

As the sounds of tearing paper and crumpling foil were joined by the excited squeals of the young and the more subdued, but no less heartfelt, thanks of their elders, Elladan caught his brother�s gaze and raised his glass in salute, his smile broadening at the gleam of pure delight in Elrohir�s eyes.

Joyous Yule, �Roh.

The elf-knight grinned, pausing in his task of stringing Eldarion�s new willow bow to pick up his own goblet and return the toast.

It is, indeed. Many more to us all.

"Fix it, Uncle Elhir!" Eldarion prodded, watching closely as skillful fingers stretched the finely braided bowstring taut. His beloved bow ready at last, the boy seemed to take note for the first time of a glaring absence in his uncle�s small pile of gifts. "You have naught from Uncle Ladan!" he exclaimed, casting a worried glance at his other uncle. "Have you made him angry?"

"Nay, pen neth, we..."

"When Nana is mad," Eldarion announced helpfully, "Papa buys her something, then they kiss and she is not mad anymore." There was a thoughtful pause. "That is why I am getting a sister."

A spray of mulled wine that only narrowly missed his nephew�s shoulder burst from Elrohir�s mouth, as he tried in vain to control his laughter. "If sisters come from gifts and kisses," he chuckled, giving Eldarion a gentle hug, "I foresee many of them in your future."

"No one is angry," Elladan explained seriously, though his own eyes sparkled with suppressed mirth. "Your Uncle Elrohir and I exchange gifts in our chambers, after the celebration is over. It is our own tradition, and we have kept it since we were scarce bigger than you are now."

Though the tone of the accompanying festivities has changed somewhat, hmm?

The teasing question brushed Elrohir�s thoughts unexpectedly, bringing a sensual smile to his face. Though he was not yet ready to agree with Elladan�s assertion that knowing you would soon make love was nearly as sweet as the act, he could not deny that the thrill of anticipation was pleasant, indeed. Glancing around to assure himself that their guests� attention was still mostly focused elsewhere, the elf-knight indulged in the admittedly uncouth pleasure of sticking his tongue out at his brother.

The quick flash of pink tongue, impudent but affectionate, left Elladan biting his own lip to quell the laughter that bubbled in his chest.

Promise?

Try to stop me.

Arwen, long accustomed to her brothers� silent conversations, had no difficulty guessing where this particular exchange was leading. Sharing a knowing glance with Erestor�s wife, she got to her feet and announced the evening over for the younger members of the party. Despite a few almost obligatory protests, the excitement of the celebration and the lateness of the hour had left the young ones exhausted, and goodnights were said with surprisingly little grumbling.

Erestor and his eldest slipped away soon after, as did Lindir and Glorfindel, leaving Estel alone with the twins. Elrohir had joined his brother on the divan, relaxing comfortably against Elladan�s chest. Estel smiled slightly, remembering a time when he had been so very jealous of the bond his elven brothers shared � jealous, and praying for one who would look at him as they looked at one another.

That he had found that one was a marvel he never ceased to appreciate, and the knowledge that his gain would one day bring great loss to others he loved was constant companion to his gratitude. That, despite his place in their sorrows, neither the twins nor their father had ever looked on him with other than kindness and affection amazed him still.

Estel reined in his wandering thoughts with difficulty, turning them to matters less grave. "Another week or so, perhaps, Arwen says?"

Elladan nodded slowly. "Perhaps," he allowed. "It is not possible to be so precise as with an elfling birth, but I would say a few days, aye." He grinned suddenly, white teeth flashing in the firelight. "I wager she will leave me to enjoy the rest of my Yuletide celebration in peace, at least."

"You tempt fate with your insolence, t�ren," Elrohir warned jokingly. "Have a care, or the babe will drop ere the tables are cleared."

"At least a day, likely two," Elladan declared confidently. The corners of his mouth curling wickedly, he added, "Though perhaps we should hasten the remaining festivities, to be safe."

Estel snorted in amusement. "Do not let me detain you, �Adan. I know the way to my bed."

"One more round," Elrohir insisted, rising from his seat to pour generous shots of miruvor into three of the ornate blue goblets reserved for the fiery cordial. Passing one to Estel, he resumed his seat, pressing another of the glasses into Elladan�s hand. "To family," the elf-knight proposed, raising his drink in salute, "those who are, were, and will be."

"To family," Elladan and Estel echoed. A comfortable silence fell over the room, broken only by the crackle and hiss of the fire, until at last Estel roused himself and rose to his feet. "I will leave you to your dreams," he said, embracing each of the twins in turn, "and seek my own." As he reached the wide arch that led to the hallway, Elladan�s voice called his attention back to the fireside.

"Estel?"

"Aye?"

"Blessed Yule, t�r dithen."

A smile touched Estel�s face. "Blessed Yule, my brothers."

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

The twins made their way through the dimly lit halls with rising anticipation, their contentment with the success of the year�s gathering slowly giving way to excitement as their own private celebration neared. Deep in his musings, Elladan nearly yelped in surprise when a mischievous hand slid from its place around his waist to squeeze his leather-covered bottom teasingly. "Can you not wait until we reach our chambers?" he asked sternly, though his laughing eyes belied his tone.

Elrohir�s answer was a sly grin and a brief but forceful kiss. "Nay," he replied cheekily, his fingers tracing the crease of Elladan�s thigh, "I cannot."

"There are gifts yet to be opened, �Roh."

"Oh, I know, t�ren," Elrohir agreed, a gleam in his darkened eyes that caused Elladan�s stomach to tighten almost painfully. "I know."

Casting a wary look at his brother, Elladan opened the door to their suite, stepping inside and sniffing with pleasure as the smell of evergreens and winter spices that wafted from the merrily crackling fire reached his nose. A heartbeat later, the back of his head hit the just-closed door with a unexpected �thump�, and both fire and gifts were forgotten, his full attention fixed on the lust-darkened gaze that raked his body possessively.

Elrohir dropped fluidly to his knees, ignoring his brother�s startled gasp, to press his face against the rapidly swelling bulge in Elladan�s leggings, rubbing his cheek over the soft leather.

"Elrohir! What are you doing?"

The elf-knight met the barked question with a smirk, licking his lips suggestively. "I would have thought that rather obvious, Elladan," he retorted, releasing his brother�s hips to tug impatiently at knotted lacings, his eyelids lowering appreciatively as the leather parted and his hand encountered smooth, hot skin. "I made a promise, did I not?"

Elladan�s answer ended in a strangled groan as his leggings were jerked down unceremoniously and a warm mouth nuzzled the base of his shaft, licking and nibbling at the tender skin. A pink tongue lapped teasingly up his hard length, tracing the vein that throbbed insistently underneath, then Elladan shuddered, all thoughts of protest vanishing as Elrohir engulfed him rapidly, carefully held teeth skimming sensitive flesh just ahead of the elf-knight�s swirling tongue.

Elladan�s hands went instinctively to his brother�s head, twining in the ebony braids, urging him closer, and Elrohir�s lips curled in satisfaction around the thick shaft that filled his mouth. Pausing in his rhythm, Elrohir gently disengaged Elladan�s fingers from his hair, moving them instead to rest on his shoulders, before returning to his task.

Tightening his grip, Elladan let his head fall forward, taking in the erotic sight of his own arousal disappearing again and again into Elrohir�s skillful mouth. His breath began to come in short gasps as suction and speed increased, and soon he was panting helplessly, his hips bucking even under the elf-knight�s restraining hands. "�Roh," he rasped warningly, "close...close..."

There was a pause as midnight-dark eyes met his own, a seductive voice brushing his thoughts.

Even closer than you think, t�ren.

Then Elrohir dropped his head and swallowed, one hand sliding from Elladan�s hip to fondle the tightly drawn sac beneath his straining erection, and Elladan howled, spilling in hot spurts down his brother�s throat, his fingers digging deep into Elrohir�s shoulders.

His knees trembling, Elladan closed his eyes and held on as he was licked and nuzzled tenderly, then tucked back into his leggings, the lacings pulled snug. He felt Elrohir stand, but opened his eyes only after a lingering kiss that tasted of both wine and his own pleasure. As he reached for Elrohir�s laces, his hand was gently pushed away, and he looked at his brother in surprise.

"I will wait," the elf-knight said, softening the refusal with another kiss. "There are yet gifts to unwrap, are there not?" A roguish grin lit his face as he added, "Though none so fine as yourself, t�ren."

Elladan chuckled weakly, his cheeks still flushed and senses still reeling from his sudden climax. "I am honored to be counted among the delicacies of the season, then. But your talented mouth has left me unfit to retrieve your package."

"�Tis no matter," Elrohir insisted, drawing his brother toward the hearth. "I will bring yours first, as always."

Elladan sank to the floor obediently, running his fingers over the soft furs that covered the stones, while Elrohir disappeared into the bedchamber, returning a moment later with a gaily-wrapped box.

"For you, el n�n," he said unnecessarily, placing the surprisingly heavy parcel in Elladan�s hands.

Elladan studied the gleaming silver foil and brightly-colored ribbons, smiling at Elrohir�s obvious excitement. "What have you done?" he asked, his tone gently teasing. "Wrapped a river stone?"

"Perhaps," the elf-knight returned cheekily. "Open it and see."

The foil tore away to reveal a leather-covered slipcase containing three thick journals, their mithril-lit spines glinting in the fire�s glow. Elladan eased one of the volumes from the snug case, running his fingers over the smooth grey leather, a pleased smile lighting his face. "They are beautiful, �Roh," he said happily, opening the cover to admire the blue and silver emblazoned end-pages. "I will have no further excuse not to..."

The words trailed away into silence as Elladan idly turned the page, then looked at his brother in astonishment before turning his eager gaze back to the treasure in his grasp.

Page after page was filled with notes, recipes and anecdotes, all written in Elrohir�s clean, forthright hand. Tonics and tisanes, poultices and methods for splinting a difficult break. The snatches of Rohirric healing lore, untutored and brutish but surprisingly effective, that had once saved Elrohir�s life, as well as his own. Details of the triumphs and failures he had thought to share with Elrond some day, his own sometimes cryptic observations buoyed and enlivened by the elf-knight�s memories of each event.

"The loose scraps of parchment were becoming unmanageable," Elrohir said, searching Elladan�s face anxiously, "and I feared some would surely end up in the fire ere you finished the copying. I have not yet discarded them, though, if you wish to check my work."

"You have rewritten all of them?" Elladan asked in amazement. "When did you find time to do this, rohir n�n?"

Elrohir shrugged. "Now and then. I have been working at it nearly since the year�s turning. The first volume is full, the second begun." He grinned suddenly. "But from now on the recording is your affair. I am a poor scribe."

"You are nothing of the sort," Elladan objected, drawing Elrohir into a warm embrace. "It is a wonderful gift." His eyes dancing, he added, "Shall we see if I have done half as well?"

Without waiting for an answer, he leapt up and soon returned with a long, shallow box, its heavy parchment wrapping embellished with swirls of silver and gold and secured with knots and bows of gleaming foil ribbon.

Elrohir took the offered package, his face alight with anticipation as he hefted it experimentally. "There are no river stones in here, I wager," he joked, lowering the lightweight box to the floor.

"Open it," Elladan urged, his own voice tense with excitement.

The parchment left the box with a satisfying �rrrrrrrrip� under Elrohir�s eager hands, and the elf-knight lifted a carefully folded black bundle from the tangle of ribbons and paper. Rising to his feet, he shook out the butter-soft leather, revealing an expertly cut riding cloak, the edges trimmed with a fine braid of twilight grey horsehair, a detail that identified the garment as the work of Rohan�s master leather-smiths.

Elrohir swung the surprisingly light yet warm cloak over his shoulders. "It is every bit as fine as �omer�s," he bragged with a broad grin, "and a perfect fit. Thank you, �Dan!" Sliding his hands over the carefully rolled seams, he added, "It has a glove pocket, also." A moment later, his smile gave way to a perplexed frown as he drew a folded sheet of fine vellum from the cloak�s pocket, then cast a questioning gaze at his brother.

"Perhaps you should open that, as well," Elladan remarked casually, rising to stand near the elf-knight.

The crimson wax bearing the seal of Rohan�s King broke away cleanly, revealing a few lines of Westron script, and Elrohir raised wide eyes to Elladan�s face before reading the short missive once more. "A foal?" he asked tentatively, as though afraid to believe what he had read.

"A colt," Elladan affirmed with a smile, "born this spring past. You will have him as a yearling, t�ren, soon after the thaw. The Rohirrim will not take him from his dam until the year turns. It is their tradition, with the Mearas."

Elrohir whooped with delight, throwing himself headlong into Elladan�s arms, crushing his brother in a breath-stealing hug. "How did you manage it?" he demanded, when at last he released his hold. "What have you promised �omer?"

"My virtue is safe, in that quarter, at least," Elladan chuckled. "I have sworn to provide him with a case of miruvor each year of his reign, and that you alone will train and work the animal. He will have breeding rights, as well, when the colt is grown."

"The colt is grey, �omer writes?" Elrohir asked, hungry for any news of the coming addition to his stable.

"Aye," Elladan answered. "Grey as the morning shadows, Estel claims, and already swift as the winter Bruinen."

"Estel?"

"Though he may now be King of the Reunited lands, he was good enough to act as parcel bearer. He is still Estel, so Imladris commands much loyalty," Elladan explained with a grin, "and I see no reason to discourage such an attitude."

"You are wicked, t�ren," Elrohir chided teasingly, drawing his brother back into his arms.

"Only when need dictates," Elladan corrected, his eyes twinkling. "Though I admit that it often does." Toying with one gleaming black braid, he touched his lips to Elrohir�s in the barest hint of a kiss. "Blessed Yule, rohir n�n."

"Blessed Yule, �Dan," Elrohir breathed, catching his twin�s mouth in a kiss that was at once tender and insistent, and Elladan was reminded anew that the elf-knight had not shared his earlier release.

"I fear I have neglected you," Elladan murmured, licking and nibbling a path to Elrohir�s ear, "though �twas at your own behest." His hands moving to loose the clasps of his brother�s white silk tunic, he added, "Shall we enjoy the fire, or warm our bed?"

"The fire," Elrohir replied immediately, his movements deft and eager as he relieved Elladan of both over-vest and tunic.

"And a final glass of miruvor," Elladan agreed. Turning toward the side table to retrieve the cordial and glasses, he cast a meaningful look at the elf-knight�s leggings. "Make yourself comfortable, �Roh."

His groin twitching under the darkly flickering gaze, Elrohir tugged off his leggings and boots and tossed them aside, then dropped to the fur-covered floor. "I would have you comfortable, as well," he said pointedly, reaching for the heavy blue bottle and goblets as he ran his eyes over his brother�s half-clothed form.

A smirk curled Elladan�s lips and he handed his burden over willingly, quickly slipping out of his own leggings and boots before lowering himself beside Elrohir. "Satisfied?"

"Not yet," the elf-knight retorted, his eyes dancing, "but I expect to be rather soon."

Elladan snorted in amusement. "You are such a tart, t�ren," he teased, pouring two glasses of miruvor, then settling the bottle safely on the edge of the hearth.

"And you would have me no other way," Elrohir replied confidently, tossing back his drink in one quick tip of the goblet. Reaching for his brother�s arm, he added, "Now, are you going to finish that, or shall I set it aside for you?"

"Neither," Elladan said, urging the elf-knight down onto the soft furs. He pressed a lingering kiss to Elrohir�s mouth, then pulled away to dribble a winding trail of miruvor from throat to nipples to navel before lowering his head to trace the fiery cordial�s path.

The elf-knight shifted and hummed with pleasure under the sensual tickle of the miruvor and the light, playful swipes of Elladan�s tongue, his fingers tangling encouragingly in the silk-soft ebony strands of his brother�s hair. Hums and sighs turned to gasps and pleas as Elladan slid lower and a final splash of miruvor ran from stomach to groin, trickling slowly over flushed skin to disappear between trembling thighs. Elrohir nearly sobbed with frustration before at last Elladan�s mouth closed, hot and wet, over his aching arousal. He was granted only a moment�s indulgence before the swirling warmth slid away, following the dribbles of miruvor that led deep between his eagerly spread thighs. Strong hands urged his legs wider still, then a keening wail burst from his throat as he was breached by a determined tongue, the heat of Elladan�s mouth amplified by the fierce burn of the miruvor.

Elladan tightened his grip on his brother�s hips, his arms shaking with the strain of Elrohir�s wild bucks and lunges. Pulling away regretfully, he spared a last slurping lick for the elf-knight�s rigid length before moving up to stare into lust-clouded grey eyes. "I love you," he whispered, dropping a spate of feather-light kisses around Elrohir�s lips before claiming his mouth hungrily, the kiss filled with both desire and the deep affection that colored their every touch.

And I love you, el n�n.

Elrohir returned the vow tenderly, his thoughts brushing his brother�s mind even as his legs wrapped eagerly around Elladan�s waist, urging him on as he pushed slowly into the familiar warmth of Elrohir�s body. Their movements were at first languid and sure - the slow, sweet loving of two who had uncounted nights behind them and eternity yet to enjoy � and only reluctantly gave way to the more purposeful thrusts and grinds of impending completion.

At last, unable to stave off the end any longer, Elrohir arched sharply and gave a shuddering moan, splattering both his own chest and his brother�s hand with streams of shimmering white. Elladan pressed deep into the clenching passage and buried his race in Elrohir�s neck, sucking hard at the translucent skin, as the caressing spasms overwhelmed him and he spilled with a muffled groan. After a long moment, Elladan withdrew carefully and moved aside, pulling Elrohir into a loose embrace. Drowsy and sated, he pressed a kiss to Elrohir�s forehead in answer to the elf-knight�s sleepy caress, then snuggled into the warm furs, eyes slowly losing focus as he slid into reverie.

It seemed only a heartbeat later that he awoke to a dying fire and an insistent pounding on the chamber door. As the pounding was joined by Estel�s voice, calling his name in increasingly frantic tones, Elladan shouted his understanding, then turned with a sigh to meet Elrohir�s poorly concealed grin. "Not a word, �Roh," he warned, rising to struggle into his leggings and retrieve a tunic from the wardrobe. "Not one word."

"Not one word," Elrohir agreed, eyes sparkling with mirth as he watched Elladan pull on a work tunic, then quickly braid his hair in a single heavy plait.

"�Dan?"

Elladan sighed. "Aye?"

There was a snort of laughter, quickly smothered.

"Joyous Yule, t�ren."

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