Request: Some angst, romance, first time, Elladan older than Legolas, take place in Mirkwood, love at first sight

Summary:Elladan must escort Legolas to Rivendell, can he control his hatred and other emotions?

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He awoke to a pool of dark sapphire locks around him; it was shimmering like the Silmarils in the moonlight. A steady rhythm of warm breath beat against his neck. However with every blink the world began to spin more and more and before he could take another look he was drifting, still wondering…is that… how… and then a deep sleep took him.

He was sent to Mirkwood to retrieve Legolas. He was sent on a simple errand by his father, Lord Elrond. How he had wished his brother had been available to play fetch for the young prince but alas, Elrohir was off to Gondor.

Growing up Elladan hated the prince from Mirkwood; he grew tired of hearing stories of the brave little prince battling yet another Great Spider or how the young prince was the fairest elf to be seen in Middle Earth in this Age. The twins loved causing mischief and were very good at it as well after all the years of practice on their sister Arwen. Elladan and his brother spent many late nights plotting the imaginary demise of this Legolas Greenleaf.

However much time has past since the days of pranks and Gandalf’s fireworks, a dark shadow was growing in Middle Earth. Sauron was back and the One Ring was rumoured to have been found once more. There would be a war, this was certain. Heavy laid the heart of his father, thought Elladan, he must put his childish feelings behind him, journey to Mirkwood and escort the son of Thranduil back to Rivendell for the council.

Elladan followed the Old Forest Road from Rivendell, through the Misty Mountains and in the dark forests of Mirkwood. To calm his nerves he reminded himself of the Greenwood of the past. Before the time of Sauron and his Orc armies there was once a beautiful forest here. As he walked along Anduin, the Great River, Elladan found himself wondering where the Enchanted Stream lay. The stream with waters that flowed dark and in their ripples carried an enchantment. For if anyone drink or bathed in the water they would fall into a state of drowsiness and forgetfulness.

He recalled the story of how Beorn warned Thorin Oakenshield and his followers to never drink nor touch the water. When they came upon the Enchanted Stream they saw a boat on the opposite bank. The Dwarves were able to retrieve the boat using a rope and hook. As they were disembarking Bombur was startled by a deer and fell into the stream. The instant his body struck the waters he fell into a deep sleep and did not awake for many days.

Elladan approached the grand hall of Thranduil. It was nothing like that of his father’s in Rivendell or his Grandfather’s Celeborn in Lothlorien. Tall fir trees created a circle around the entrance, and the fallen needles cushioned the elves already light steps. Where vines of ivy climbed the walls of The Last Homely House, here only northern moss gave contrast to the grey stone walls here.

“Welcome to the Woodland realm, Elladan, Son of Elrond, Lord of Rivendell” Boomed Thranduil. His voice echoed throughout the room. “I know why you have come and it fills my heart with sadness to give you my son, for I know the mission that lies ahead and it brings sorrow to my soul”

“My father feels your son is worthy of such a challenge. I have heard many tales of the triumphs of Legolas from my friend Lord Aragorn and as well from my father.” Elladan said and then a sly grin came across his face “I look forward to meeting another elf with such skill and grace to equal that of myself and my brother, for I tire of beating him and look for a new opponent to defeat.”

Thranduil nodded and called for his son. Elladan felt perhaps he had crossed the line with the last jest, but he found it hard to believe that an elf from the northern lands, the lands that had fallen into to darkness could compare to himself; an elf from the lands so beautiful and desired throughout Middle Earth. He was after all older and more skilled and learned of course. And then Legolas entered the room.

He was tall and slender, but you could tell he was strong from the tightness in his movement. It was controlled and full of ease at the same time. His hair was gold, and what little sunlight there was in Mirkwood fell upon his head. Eyes were a startling shade of blue. They were as dark at the night sky and held many ages in their glances. He then knew that this elf was old, but still Elladan himself had seen many more trees rise from acorn to ruinous age.

“Legolas, Son of Thranduil, well met. I am Elladan, Son of Elrond, and I am here to escort you to my home of Rivendell.”

“Well met, Elladan, though I know for what you send for me I still welcome your presence here in Mirkwood.” His words were like poetry whispered into the wind. “I shall gather the last of my belongings and let us begin our journey to Rivendell.”

They made the way for the long journey back to Rivendell. Legolas wanted one last look at his beloved home. He wanted to walk amongst the tall fir trees of the north and the forest streams. He sadly realised he would miss the Great Spiders the bats and moths of unusual size. Elladan decided to humour the prince, for he understood what it was like to leave your home; to venture out into the unknown lands of Middle Earth. They followed the Forest River west and Legolas stopped suddenly. In front of him lay a dark stream.

“Do you have anything like this in Rivendell, Elladan?” The blonde elf asked. “Do you have anything that can take over like this water can?”

“Rivendell is a place of healing, we tend avoid placing anything that can harm in our land” confessed Elladan. And then, just then he remembered those long nights with his brother many ages ago. He looked into the water, seeing in its reflection his grey eyes fill with brilliance of a plan. He would use this moment by the Enchanted Stream to his advantage. He would devise a way for Legolas to come in contact with the water. Give him just enough to daze him though and then, challenge him in a battle proving that once and for all Elladan was the greater of the two.

Legolas was looking out into the woods; he was the perfect image of an elf. Elladan felt something strange inside his chest. He had never felt this level of hatred before. It was making his chest tight, his breath was coming at shorter bursts and his hands where becoming a bit clammy. This was no way for an elven prince to be acting. What was wrong with him? He didn’t know, but one thing he knew for sure is that something had to be done, soon.

But how; that was the one question that remained unanswered to Elladan. He needed to achieve the act of somehow managing to have Legolas come in contact with the water, while making sure that he stays out of its enchanted harm. He gazed upon Legolas, hoping to discover some way to deceive the elf. He stared at his long blonde hair and thought of Legolas bathing, and how his golden wet hair would cling to his muscular shoulders. His eyes then followed those shoulders down his back, the slight contour of his waist and down to the firmness of his thighs. Graceful muscles, he thought to himself. How can this elf possess such beauty and such strength? Elladan took back his thoughts and suddenly decided on his plan.

He would dip his arrow into the water and then, with his perfect archery abilities, he would launch the arrow and graze the skin upon his upper arm. This would accomplish two things, Elladan would be able to get the water onto Legolas and he would be able to prove his fantastic aim as an archer. Now Elladan waited for Legolas to wander off into the forest and he then dipped the point of his arrow into the Enchanted Stream. He then tied a string around the crest and placed it back into his quiver. Prepared for the task ahead, Elladan ventured out among the trees to find Legolas.

Elladan found Legolas walking deep in the fir trees. He ran his hands smoothly over the branch of needles and then sat down beneath the canopy of the giant tree. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. Elladan thought this was the perfect chance for the execution of his plan. He reached into his quiver and searched for the arrow with the string tied upon it. Just as gently as Legolas had run his fingers across the needles, Elladan brushed the fletching and then grasped it tightly. He pulled taught the bow, placed the nock upon the bowstring, took a deep breath and just as he was to aim, Legolas was nowhere to be found.

"Would you dare to draw an arrow on me once more, Elladan?" As Elladan slowly turned to face him, Legolas slyly added, “For I fear it would not be a wise choice, my friend.”

"Think you that I would let you take me with such ease? Do you think I, Legolas, Son of Thranduil, is so easily caught off his guard?” Legolas stalked towards the dark haired elf. “And to think, the Son of Elrond is full of such treachery. You come into my lands, claiming to be taking me to a council in Rivendell. When in sooth you are but a messenger of Sauron. You have fallen into to darkness Elladan”

"You think me a traitor?" Elladan hissed. “I am not among those who answer the the Lord Sauron, I had merely wanted to place such a young and arrogant prince in his rightful place: below me.”

The two elves circled one another in the forest clearing near the Enchanted Stream. As Elladan looked into the eyes of his opponent he realised that he, himself, was indeed the lesser of the elven princes. Elladan in this moment realised he had not been driven by a hatred for the blonde elf, but he felt passion and desire for him. Suddenly he was overtaken by grief and lamented to Legolas.

“Forgive me, for I was not right. I meant no insult to you as my kinsmen. I was driven by a poison far worse than that of Sauron or the One Ring” Elladan lowered himself to his knees and was unable to look up, the shame he carried in his heart was weighing him down. “I beg your forgiveness. Please, I will do anything for you; I beg you look on me no more as a traitor.”

“Do not fret, Elladan; I do not view you as a traitor. But serve me this one night, and your honour will be soothed; lay with me and give me night of pleasure."

They walked deeper into the forest, searching for the area where they could be alone. Where they had once walked together as princes of the elven land, now, by their different postures, they were master and servant.

"Build us a fire," ordered Legolas. He stayed standing while Elladan knelt on the ground and gathered twigs and stones. Elladan kindled fast and full and soon after a hot fire was flickering and filling the area with a soft golden light. When Elladan went to rise, Legolas stopped him with a gesture.

"Disrobe yourself to the waist, Elladan.” Legolas said in a soft whisper. He watched as the darker elf removed his quiver and laid it next to him upon the ground. Elladan then removed his deep red tunic and revealed his pale torso. His body was strong, lean with muscles, tense with nerves and anticipation. Legolas reached down and toyed with Elladan’s thick dark hair. Elladan remained still while the younger elf traced a gentle hand down his chest and then trailed his nails back up the archer's back.

When Legolas gently tilted his head back, Elladan lifted his eyes slowly up the length of the other elf's body. He saw a dark cloak, and tall brown boots; tan leggings; a tunic of green leather, bound about with straps and belts; a grim yet beautiful mouth; and a dark gaze that reflected the bright flames of the fire. They balanced for a moment, each in the other's gaze.

Elladan’s breath was coming in short bursts as he waited for his masters’ next move. Legolas rested his hands on his waist; his glance was unchanged. Elladan knew in that moment what he needed to do. “Let me serve you master, let me take you with my mouth. I long to taste you and be the one to give you pleasure”.

As Elladan pulled aside Legolas’ tunic and leggings slightly, Legolas glanced down and said to Elladan, “I do bid you to keep your hands above your own waist; touch only my body. You will not spend your lust yet, I long for that privilege."

Elladan leaned into Legolas slowly. He ran his hands up the other elves body then returned them to his hips. He parted his lips slowly and ran the tip of his tongue along the length of Legolas; moving in small circles from base to tip along the underside before twisting himself to repeat this along the top.

“Elladan!” Legolas gasped, arching his back and throwing his head back, hips pushing up involuntarily, bucking towards the kneeling elf.

Elladan fixed his eyes onto the Adam’s apple and the long clean line of Legolas’ neck and he could do nothing to stop himself from standing up and fixing his mouth over it, longing to taste him, to feel the softness of his skin there, and to delicately touch the racing pulse beyond. It was wonderfully erotic.

“No. No Elladan, I beg thee…” came the gasp and shook him out of his needful trance. Immediately Elladan found the strength to release and he slid his hand out of Legolas’ leggings.

“I’m sorry. You’re just so… so...” He swallowed hard, making no secret of the fact that there was only one place he needed them to go now.

The next thing he knew, a long torso had been placed over him and Legolas was half sitting, half crouching on his thighs. “You want this,” he said, and lightly brushed his lips against Elladan’s jaw.

“I’ve always wanted this, to be with you.” He was smiling, the feeling of relief came across him. “You have led me to believe otherwise. You tried to deceive me in my own lands just a short time ago...” Legolas said as he ran his fingers through the dark curls of the other elf.

“Legolas, you have entranced me for many ages. I have become obsessed with you. I only want to be close to you now. I only want you to lay with me.” That was the truth, as strange as it felt to say it out loud. “Some days, my brother, Elrohir and I would plot ways to defeat you, the great elven prince from the woodland realm of Mirkwood. Alas, while he was plotting with arrows I was plotting with my heart.” Elladan stopped and looked at the silent elf. “Then tell me. What game is this? Come on, explain it to me. What do you want from me? You bid me to lay with you, now you lay still and pull away?”

“I long for… honestly, I do not know what I want from you.” Legolas sighed and shrugged, genuinely unable to answer. Despite all his age and all of his experience, this all felt strangely new and Legolas really wasn’t sure what to do.

Elladan gave him sweet little smile and shuffled backwards to end up kneeling at his feet. “Very well then; let me show you what I want. Close your eyes and lie back. Don’t move. Just relax for me.”

A deep breath he had not realised he was holding departed from Legolas as he did as he was told.

Gently, very gently, Elladan lifted one of Legolas’ feet and held it up while he ran his finger under the sole and up along the back of his leg. “I want to know every inch of you.” Legolas jerked a little when he reached the sensitive area in the pit of his knee. “Every point of your skin which makes you tremble,” He carefully parted both of Legolas’ legs wide and then his finger continued its journey running up his inner thigh. “And beg. And need.” As the finger strayed onto Legolas’ perineum and delicately stroked upwards, over his balls and up the shaft of his straining dick, Legolas gasped, his whole body jerking in tiny spasms. “I do not want to be just some nameless conquest you tell stories about. I want to be the one haunting your dreams. The one you crave. I want you to look at me and stop breathing for want. Even at the thought of just one… finger… moving... upwards…”

“Please…” Legolas begged as Elladan ran his finger right over the head, applying a little bit of extra pressure at the slit, making his whole body shudder.

“Intimacy, Legolas. It is about letting someone in so far you can become a part of them. I can do that for you. I want to do that for you. But I won’t do it if you feel nothing for me.” He ran his finger lightly up Legolas’ stomach towards his chest. “You need to see me as more than just a means to a release. Or a pretty face. You want to know why?” Now he was kneeling right over him, finger stroking up along his jaw.

Legolas opened his eyes and stared up into him. Elladan had such a quiet wisdom and dignity in his face that simply didn’t seem to match his years. “Why?’” he asked, at an awed whisper.

“Because that’s not how I see you.”

Their lips met in a fiery burst of heat and wetness. Elladan was molten lava on his skin, burning and sliding over him, and it felt nothing short of intoxicating. Fingernails ran down his chest, slow and rough.

Legolas broke away to hiss as nails scraped over sensitized nipples. “How do you see me, Elladan?”

“Flawed. In ways you care not for others to see. Ways which you feel you must hide behind stories. And oh…” Fingers raked down his thighs, “…so…” they moved under them to tilt his hips up, “…perfect for that.”

The same finger which had been driving him insane breached him and made Legolas gasp. It didn’t hurt though. He was already long since past feeling anything but hunger for Elladan’s touch, any way he could receive it. “You’ve lost me,” he admitted.

“We are all flawed somehow. That is why we need others to heal the cracks and make us whole. And that’s what I want to do for you.” He continued to work his fingers in and out of Legolas, not taking as much care as the soft tones in his voice implied.

“I have been drawn to you for a long time, despite what I’ve said and how I’ve acted. With every tale I heard of your wonders, I wanted to do this. I wanted to care for you and heal all those cracks. But I didn’t want… I didn’t want…’

“You didn’t want it to mean nothing to me, because it would mean something to you?” Legolas finished his sentence off for him.

Elladan nodded and Legolas grabbed his hands, clumsily pulled him close and kissed him deeply. “It does. I promise you, it means more than you know.”

“Take me, I am yours Elladan…”

“You’re not…”

“Trust me, I am ready. Never been so ready.” Legolas said with a smile.

Another kiss, and Elladan moved back and stood up, leaving Legolas flailing.

Legolas grunted as Elladan bluntly pushed inside him and thrust. “Shhhh, don’t think about it. Don’t talk. Just feel this,” Elladan commanded. “Feel my weight pressing you down, anchoring you. Nothing else. Just surrender to it.”

A throaty moan escaped Legolas’ chest as Elladan rolled his hips and started to hit every sweet spot he had in his body. A hand snaked around his jaw and drew his neck back to rest his head on Elladan’s shoulder, fingers running over his jaw. Soft lips kissed his ear and teeth brushed across the tip. Warm gusts of breath, steadily growing faster in time with his own followed next. He heard his name being spoken but it was distant to him. Everything was. He was reduced to sensation alone; the strange pleasure spiking inside, the rub of skin against the caress of the soft bed of pine needles; Elladan reaching inside him and doing everything he promised; seeking out all the cracks and imperfections that haunted him and filling them with his weight of adoration and care. Even his own voice, panting and crying out as he reached a plateau was nothing. All he could hear was Elladan’s breath and Elladan’s voice echoing in and out of his mind. All he could feel was Elladan’s body lifting him up and finally, an explosion in his chest.

“Legolas, I haved loved you for many ages and I fear this is the worst of them for us to remain as lovers. You have been chosen by my father, Elrond, for a great mission. I know not where your futures lies; but I know it lies not with me.”

“I do not understand, you take me and for the first time I feel whole in my life and now you cast me aside. Elladan, this was one moment, a moment I hoped to be the first of many, and now you deny me?” Legolas stood and walked into the distance, gazing into the forests of Mirkwood.

“Forgive me, sweet prince. I will never forget, but it is not your path to remember… I will carry the fire for both of us, in hopes we may be one again…” Elladan reached into his quiver and his fingers found the arrow and he aimed and shot true, grazing Legolas shoulder.

And then sleep took Legolas.

He awoke to a pool of dark sapphire locks around him; it was shimmering like the Silmarils in the moonlight. A steady rhythm of warm breath beat against his neck. However with every blink the world began to spin more and more and before he could take another look he was drifting, still wondering…is that… how… and then a deep sleep took him.

The next thing he knew he was on his back, being cradled in Elladan’s arms. “Mae govannen,” Elladan said, looking down at him with what could only be described as affection in his eyes.

“Mae govannen.” His voice felt scratchy and sore.

“I know not what happened, but we awoke here, near this stream, sleeping and dreaming…” Elladan said. Legolas looked around and realised that he was bleeding on his upper arm and sore over the rest of his body. They were both completely dressed and Elladan gave no admittance that anything out of the ordinary had happened.

“Shall we head on to Rivendell Legolas, we have wasted much time saying your goodbyes to Mirkwood.” Elladan never turned to face Legolas, for if he did, Legolas may have seen the pain in Elladan’s eyes. The pain of having loved and lost, but this was in the best interest of Middle Earth. Now he was the bravest elf in the story, he was the one who defeated the great challenge. Elladan had given up his love and Legolas or anyone else, would ever know.