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The breeze rustled through the leaves overhead and the water of the lake lapped gently at the shore below. The sun was shining. It was not too hot, nor was it too cool. In short, it was a perfect day in Valinor, however Legolas Greenleaf was as far from content as an elf could be. It was not just the fact that he sorely missed his mortal companions, that would be a constant ache until the end of days. Gimli’s passing a handful of years previous had almost been the end of the young, by elven standards, archer. Had it not been for the two elves lounging at the base of the tree Legolas was brooding in, he had no doubt that he would have faded and died as well. No, the more pressing problem lay with those same two elves.
He gazed down. Sunlight and shadow, light and dark, noon and midnight they were. They complimented each other, the perfect balance. Gil-Galad, or Erenion as he preferred his lovers call him lay with his head in the lap of the golden-tressed Balrog Slayer. Glorfindel lazily trailed his fingers through Erenion’s midnight locks, prompting closed eyelids and a sigh of contentment from the darker of his two lovers. Legolas smiled sadly, even though he loved them both he was the odd elf out, and he well knew it. Without his presence in their lives, and their bed, they would have formally bonded by now. He glanced down again just in time to see Glorfindel’s hand snaking under Erenion’s tunic and decided it was time to be elsewhere. He was not in the mood to participate, and to their credit they would likely invite him ere long if he remained where he was, but neither was he in the mood to watch. Only the slightest disturbance of the leaves marked his passing as he fled.
~
“He is brooding again,” Glorfindel remarked slipping his hand out from under his dark-haired lover’s light tunic.
“He believes that he is standing in the way of our formal bonding,” Erenion stated, stretching like a cat and raising himself reluctantly into a sitting position. Glorfindel arched a brow at him.
“He actually told you that?”
“No,” the dark haired Noldor replied, shaking his head. “He confided in his father, who confided in Celebrian, who confided in Elrond, who as you well know, cannot help but try and mend the hurts of everyone around him. Being that he is especially fond of Legolas, he took me to task as soon as he arrived yesterday. Not only did my former herald bend my ear for nearly an hour, but his lovely wife did as well. I vow, I do not know what it is about Legolas that rouses the protective instincts of nearly every elf in Valinor.” He sighed, frowning slightly at the chuckling Balrog Slayer. “However, they are right that something must be done to reassure him.”
‘To be entirely fair, love, he rouses our protective instincts as well.” Glorfindel pointed out, giving his lover a half-smile. ‘Perhaps now would be a good time to broach the subject of bonding with our lovely prince?”
“Perhaps. He is still fragile. Gimli’s passing was very nearly the final blow for him, inevitable though it was.” Erenion sighed again. “He still believes that we initially approached him out of pity, despite the fact that we have told him otherwise more times than I can count.”
“The only pity is that I was unaware that he fancied males before I sailed, else I would have approached him then,” Glorfindel stated archly. “I spent many a long night accompanied by thoughts of him and my own right hand.” He grinned at his lover. “But then, I might not have had you, so I am just as glad that I did not.” His reward was a lingering kiss. Reluctantly, Glorfindel pulled back. “If you feel so strongly that it is too soon to speak to him about bonding with us, then we must at least convince him that we love him and want him with us.”
“Yes, that at least and sooner rather than later else he may decide to disappear on us. Wood elf that he is, it will be blessed difficult to find him should he decide to do something that drastic.”
“We have at least until Elrond and Celebrian depart, then, to plan. Legolas is far too well mannered to vanish while we have guests.” Glorfindel rose to his feet, and took Erenion’s hand, pulling him to his feet as well. “Let us show Legolas precisely how much he is wanted, and loved.”
~
The stars were just beginning to appear as Erenion walked through the archway onto the balcony. Legolas stood at the stone rail, his eyes cast to the night sky. The dark haired elf regarded the younger of his two lovers for a moment. Legolas seemed oblivious to his presence, but Erenion knew better. He stepped up behind the archer and slid his arms around his waist, resting his chin on Legolas’ shoulder.
“Why does it trouble you so, love?” Legolas tensed in his arms and Erenion sighed. “What can we do to convince you that we love you, that we want you to stay with us?”
“I am a hindrance,” the young elf replied.
“You complete us,” the elder countered, tightening his hold. “We would be bereft without you.”
“Indeed,” Glorfindel said, drawing both his lovers away from the rail, “you make us whole.” He cupped Legolas’ face. “Let us show you how much you are loved.” He pressed himself against the archer nuzzling into the younger elf’ neck, his left hand sliding up to cradle the back of Legolas’ head, the right gripping Erenion’s waist and sandwiching Legolas between them. Erenion lifted Legolas’ hair away and began pressing open-mouthed kisses on the back of his neck as his fingers found the peaked nipples under the light shirt. The younger elf hissed with pleasure, his head dropping forward to rest on Glorfindel’s shoulder, exposing more of his nape to his dark haired lover.
Between their bodies, their young lover shuddered, his body responding of its own will to their ministrations. “Let us cherish you, my brave one, my beautiful warrior,” Glorfindel whispered before tracing Legolas’ ear with the tip of his tongue. The archer’s breath caught, his eyes closing as his senses were overwhelmed. The Balrog Slayer pulled back just enough to catch the younger elf’s chin in his hand. Legolas’ eyes fluttered open to meet his golden lover’s gaze. Glorfindel gave him a sensual smile and drew closer again, his lips almost touching Legolas’. The archer could feel his breath on his lips, could almost taste the unique flavor of his mouth. “Come,” the Vanyar whispered.
“Yes,” the younger elf said softly, his hands coming up to twine in hair only a shade darker than his own as he sealed his mouth to Glorfindel’s. Their tongues dueled until the need to breathe drove them to part. Legolas half turned, one hand still wrapped in the Balrog Slayer’s tresses. His other hand slid into silken black locks and he pulled Erenion into a kiss equally as passionate as the one he had just shared with Glorfindel. The Vanyar watched the kiss, slowly grinding his hard member against the younger elf’s. Legolas moaned into Erenion’s mouth, causing the darker of his lovers to tighten his grip and Glorfindel to grin lasciviously.
“Eru, what a treat to the eyes you are! To bed now, else we will end up ravishing each other right here on the balcony. I do not wish either of you to have bruised knees or backsides and the marble is cold.” He drew them towards the archway that separated the balcony from their bedchamber. As they reached the stone arch, Legolas released Erenion with a last swipe of his tongue over the dark Noldor’s lips and suddenly turned and pinned Glorfindel against the stone of the arch, pressing their groins together and moving teasingly in a circle as he grabbed a fistful of the Vanyar’s silk shirt and roughly pulled it down, baring his collarbone to the woodland prince’s lips, tongue, and teeth.
Erenion molded himself to Legolas’ back rubbing his erection into the cleft of the younger elf’s rear. He was rewarded with a growl and a hand reaching back to grasp his buttock firmly. His eyes met Glorfindel’s over the blond head between them and they both grinned. Legolas had turned out to be a remarkably passionate lover since their first night together, giving as good or better than he was given a fact that would have surprised those who did not know him well. Erenion began fondling the enticing ear tips in front of him, knowing from experience that they were a weak spot. Legolas faltered, shuddering, and Glorfindel took the opportunity to lever the younger elf into their dark lover’s embrace. Erenion quickly wrapped his arms around the woodland prince, gently but firmly restraining him as he continued his exquisite torture of his ear tips, this time with his tongue and teeth. Glorfindel ran his hands down the younger elf’s torso. He gathered the loose shirt, intending to pull it off.
“Tear it, I need to feel you!” Legolas cried. Glorfindel hesitated, concerned at the sudden intensity in the younger elf. “Please, I need you to!” Erenion met his eyes and nodded. Drawing a deep breath, Glorfindel tore the shirt from the woodland prince’s body. Another tremor ran through Legolas and he gasped, his body arching. His arms jerked, but Erenion’s grip restrained them.
“No, let Glorfindel see to you. You are too close. It will be better later if you spend yourself now.” The Balrog Slayer nodded in agreement and began to unlace Legolas’ breeches, his fingers brushing the rigid length straining the soft leather and drawing needy groans from the young archer. The breeches parted, and the trapped member sprang forth into Glorfindel’s hand and he gripped it firmly for a moment before stripping Legolas’ last remaining garment down his legs and assisting him out of it, pausing to run an appreciative hand along both the lean, well muscled calves and bare feet.
Kneeling, and heedless of cold marble or knees that might bruise, he slowly licked the length of the erect member before him. Legolas mewled, arching toward him. Glorfindel engulfed him, bobbing his head up and down and fondling the tender flesh that hung beneath with one hand as the other unlaced his own breeches. Erenion simply held the younger elf, whispering endearments and nibbling on his neck and ears.
Slicking his fingers with the fluid leaking from his own member, Glorfindel nudged Legolas’ thighs apart and gently probed the entrance to his body. The archer gave a long, low moan and raised his arms, wrapping them around Erenion’s neck behind him as the probing fingers breached him and shuddering in his dark lover’s embrace. The tremors intensified and Glorfindel drew harder on him, hollowing his cheeks. He slid his fingers deep inside the heated channel and crooked them. Legolas howled, his arms tightening.
“Let go, beautiful warrior. We have you,” Erenion whispered into his ear and with that, the woodland prince came undone, spilling into Glorfindel’s mouth. The Balrog Slayer drank the creamy seed down and lovingly licked his younger lover clean before rising.
Legolas’ eyes were closed, his arms still draped around his darker lover’s neck and his body drooping sensually in the circle of Erenion’s arms, the former high king supporting most of his weight. Glorfindel ran a finger along the archer’s jaw and the slate colored eyes fluttered open. The Vanyar smiled and brushed his lips across Legolas’. The woodland prince immediately cupped his hand behind his head and intensified the kiss, as Glorfindel had expected. Legolas loved kissing his lovers immediately after having been pleasured orally. The younger elf pulled back, eyes half-lidded and a wicked smile gracing his lips.
“Ai, you are too good at that,” he murmured.
“’Tis easy with one so delicious as you, love.” He lightly grazed Legolas’ lips with his fingertips. “Tonight is for you.” The younger elf sobered suddenly.
“Why? Why me?” he asked, his confusion palpable.
“For no other reason than that you are you, love,” Erenion answered, his arms tightening around the archer’s leaner form. “We love you for you and we would not be without you.” Glorfindel nodded, touching his forehead to Legolas’.
“I could not say it better.” He pulled back and cupped Legolas’ chin. “Legolas, we do love you and we approached you initially because of that love, not for any other reason.” He locked eyes with the younger elf. “Hear what I say to you, Thranduilion. Erenion and I both love you as much as we love each other. We wish to bond to each other and to you.” The woodland prince’s eyes widened.
“But, only two can bond, is that not true?”
“Not entirely,” Erenion said, the grin on his face evident in his voice. “While it is not common, even among the Noldor, it is not unheard of.”
“Of course, it is usually a mixed-gender bond even then but there have been a few same gender bonds,” Glorfindel said, almost conversationally. His expression grew solemn again. “Do not answer now, love. Think about it. There is no need for haste here.” Legolas shifted, his taut, bare backside brushing against Erenion’s rock-hard member and drawing a hiss from the dark haired elf.
“Nay,” the archer said, a slight grin pulling the corner of his mouth, “but there is a need here.” His left hand dropped from Erenion’s neck to slide into his breeches. “And here.” His grin widened as his right hand encircled Glorfindel’s already freed erection. Twin gasps rewarded his efforts and for a few moments there was no sound except gasps, sighs, and the rustle of cloth. “Bed, now,” Legolas said. Drawing both of them over to the enormous, silk draped bed. It was easily big enough for double their number, a fact which had prompted Legolas to cheekily speculate on both Erenion’s and Glorfindel’s pasts during a lighthearted moment early into their relationship.
With much kissing and caressing, Erenion and Glorfindel were soon as bare as Legolas and they rolled together on the bed in a mass of tangled limbs and groping hands. The older two elves were nigh to bursting with pent up desire but both concentrated on working their younger partner back into full arousal.
“I want you inside me,” Legolas moaned, his member again stiff and ready.
“Which one?” Glorfindel asked, his voice rough with long denied need.
“Either! Both!”
“Here,” Glorfindel said, lying on his side with his back to his lovers. “Legolas, fill me and Erenion will fill you.”
The Vanyar raised his leg to give his younger lover better access and Legolas pushed seed slick fingers into his tightness. After only a cursory stretching, the Balrog Slayer impatiently insisted that he was ready to be breached. The prince complied, easing in as carefully as he could. Glorfindel grunted and pushed back insistently, driving the arousal impaling him in to the hilt with a ragged moan of pleasure. He nodded as soon as he had adjusted to the archer’s girth. Legolas lifted his leg, laying it over his fairer lover’s hip and breathed his assent to the darker. Erenion eased into Legolas’ still-loosened passage with a gasp, fighting to stay still until another breathless assent told him that the woodland prince had adjusted.
They began to move together, Legolas rocking between them in a steady rhythm, alternately lavishing kisses on Glorfindel’s neck and turning to tangle tongues with Erenion. He reached around Glorfindel, taking the Balrog Slayer in hand and stroking in time to their motion.
“Harder,” Glorfindel grunted, panting. Legolas shifted very slightly, his thrusts hitting that one spot within Glorfindel. Erenion followed suit, hitting that little bundle within Legolas in turn.
“Yes! Oh!” Glorfindel’s body clenched around Legolas, pulling the younger elf over the edge with him. Legolas buried his face in the Vanyar’s hair, calling out in the Silvan tongue as he came. Erenion thrust once more into the tight heat surrounding him and fell as well, throwing his head back with a loud gasp. He collapsed a moment later, wrapping an arm around both his lovers.
After a few minutes of respite, Glorfindel rose from the bed and returned with wet clothes and goblets of water. Tenderly, he cleaned both of his lovers and handed them each a goblet. After returning the goblets and cloths to their proper places, he climbed back into the bed, sandwiching Legolas between himself and Erenion. Content merely to rest in his lovers’ presence, he drifted towards reverie listening to their even breathing. The lanterns guttered and went out. Just before he drifted into his dreams, he heard Legolas speak softly.
“Yes.”
Erenion lifted his head slightly,” What, love?”
“My answer is yes,” Legolas repeated, snuggling into his darker lover’s side.
“What changed your mind?” Glorfindel asked, twirling a strand of the woodland prince’s hair around his finger.
“Something that Gimli said to me towards the end,” Legolas replied softly, the echo of grief evident in his voice. “He told me that I was never meant to be conventional about anything, and that he found it to be one of my more endearing qualities.” He gave a pained chuckle. “Actually, the way he put it was ‘You love to shock the daylights out of everyone, lad, and you’ll have to work twice as hard at it when I’m not around to help you. My life hasn’t been dull since we left Rivendell with the Fellowship, and I’m ready to rest now, but it’s been a great deal of fun. Don’t turn into a stick in the mud and disappoint me or I’ll haunt you.’” Legolas fell silent for a moment. “I have come perilously close to being haunted these last few years, and I almost gave up the very thing I want most because I have been wallowing in grief. If Gimli were here, he would have hit me with the flat of his axe, and he would have been right.” He snuggled even closer to his darker lover, and pulled the fairer one’s arm around his body, clasping Glorfindel’s hand in his and tucking it under his chin. Sighing deeply, he dropped into reverie.
Erenion and Glorfindel’s eyes met and they smiled over their young lover’s head, wrapping him tighter in their embrace and following him into elven dreams.
The End