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Summary: Elladan looks upon the extrovert Elrohir with love, Elrohir looks upon his introvert brother with equal love, though neither can see it in the other. Elladan meets a man who shows him that love is possible and gives him a gift to share with Elrohir.
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I.
Elladan looked on as his brother charmed yet another delegation. At times he wondered just how many came to negotiate treaties and trade with their father and how many came to negotiate closer relations with Elrohir. Still Elladan could not help but admire the way he moved among the visitors, bestowing his presence on each with such ease and grace. When Elrohir spoke they listened in rapt attention, when he smiled Elladan could almost see the swoon. He was not jealous of his brother who had inherited, it seemed to all, the graces needed for skilled diplomacy, no he was not at all envious of Elrohir. Elladan was however, fiercely jealous of those who shared his brother’s time, those who were the recipients of his dazzling company and those to whom he granted the most intimate of knowledge, that of his beautiful body. The familiar feeling of discontent swept over him as he watched this evening’s chosen one slip his hand into Elrohir’s and walk from the room. Elladan sighed as he watched the unlucky ones disperse, several of the more bold seeking to salvage something of the evening in their eyes by seeking him out. Elladan backed further into the shadows, jumping alarmed when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“This way little one,” the whisper suggested. Elladan turned and smiled, relaxing on hearing a voice he had known since birth.
“Thank you Erestor,” Elladan replied as he slipped his hand into the offered one, leaving the bewildered group behind. “I feared I would again be the second chance any one of them would settle for in my brother’s place.”
Erestor patted the bench as he sat. “Is that truly the way of it?” he asked gently.
Elladan laughed, shaking his head. “They circle me like orcs once he has made his choice, they would take me and pretend I am him, after all, to many we are the same, so why should it matter.”
There was such resignation in Elladan’s words that Erestor’s heart went out to his once pupil, now friend. A strong arm curled around him as Elladan did what he had done over so many years; he nestled into that embrace, his head on Erestor’s shoulder. He was older now, grown, but the comfort was still there, just as it had always been when something had upset him. Erestor had always been able to soothe him and right what was wrong. Of all the things that maturity had brought and all the things that the age of majority had been left behind, this was his one constant. This and Elrohir’s ability to unwittingly cause him pain.
Erestor said nothing, long practice telling him that it was not words that Elladan needed, indeed, Erestor did not think he had anything more to say that would not repeat what had been said so many times over the years. And it was not to him to tell Elladan that his brother often sought the same sanctuary, that he had as many times held Elrohir like he held Elladan this night and listened to similar fears, though neither would believe him if he did find it within him to breach the confidentiality of each twin. Both would shake their heads and call him to task for such thoughts. Elrohir would not conceive of Elladan feeling any more than confident. Though quieter that he, Elladan comported himself with poise as a diplomat and as a warrior. Elladan would look in disbelief to learn of the tears of loneliness his brother shed, Elrohir was never alone, day or night, always there was a constant stream of willing companions. Only Erestor saw the masks slip to reveal deep heartfelt feelings. All it would need would be one small step by either of them, one movement closer and they would understand. They sat for some time, Erestor saying nothing about the quiet sobs, sighing as later he carried the sleeping elf to his bed, taking a blanket to cover him while he settled in the chair. He felt the brush of golden hair on his cheek as he dosed, turning with barely focused eyes to smile at his lover.
“We have company,” Glorfindel smiled back, reaching out to Elladan to move the errant strands of dark hair from his face.
Erestor nodded.
“Elrohir has chosen his companion for the night then?”
“Possibly for the next several nights, the party does not leave for four days.”
“Elladan will be spared much of it then, he rides at dawn, and,” Glorfindel kissed his lover, “we will have our bed back.”
Erestor chuckled and made room on the ample chair. “That we will.”
Elrohir untangled himself from the body curled around him. The sky was tinged with the gold of the new day as he looked beyond the window to the cobblestones below. In the courtyard the horses pawed at the ground, snorting into the cool air, anxious to be away. The troop mounted, its lieutenant saluting their captain before pulling his hood over his head. Elrohir stepped behind the curtain as his brother glanced up to the window where he stood, then turned his horse to the gate. Elrohir watched, not bothering to wipe away the tears that ran down his cheek, the fear in his heart as it always was, would this be the last time he saw his brother? Would an errant blade or bow take him without him ever knowing what lay in his heart?
“Elrohir?” The elf on the bed reached out to him, calling him back to him.
He was blond, always they were blond. long golden hair that was in deep contrast to his own. He had the slender body of one who spent his time within walls of stone. Always they were diplomats, minstrels, scribes, lean in the way warriors were not. And importantly, he was not of Imladris, an elf from far away residing for a short time, so that he would almost certainly rarely be seen again. Anything and everything that would give him no hint of any other. So different that they could not remind him of the one he wanted and loved with an ache that he thought so many times would consume him, burn him in a flame so bright that Elladan could not possibly ignore it..
Elrohir turned with a smile that belied his lack of enthusiasm. At least this one would keep the others away until it came time for them journey on. He pressed his body to the warm one that welcomed him with kiss, his legs parting to wrap around Elrohir’s waist, the invitation well understood. With little else Elrohir thrust deep, aroused by the thought of his brother rather than the elf who gasped beneath him. Stilling, Elrohir regained himself, his manner more tender when he stroked the hard flesh that lay between them. The elf arched, urging Elrohir who smiled, letting his conscious drift while his body performed. The climax was satisfying, he could see that in his eyes, but the blue eyes were not the ones he wanted to see regard him with such desire. Elrohir leaned forward, kissed the elf chastely before rising from the bed.
“Ada expects me soon, we had best wash and dress.”
The elf nodded, he well understood his role without question, after all one could hardly ignore the tales that were ample enough about this twinned lord. Many may catch his eye for a night or two, but seldom more than that, and even rarer was an invitation extended more than once. Yes, many caught his roving eye, but none his guarded heart. For many it mattered little, the chance to share Elrohir’s bed was enough, his prowess as legendary as his exploits with his hunter brother in battle. For some it served as a challenge to break the barrier between love and lust. All in some way fell in love with the charismatic elf, who in his own way felt affection for all of them in return. There was none who left his bed unsatisfied nor begrudging the exit. While Elrohir was spoken of in awe, it was never in hate or loathing. It was a manner that few had, to evoke such an acceptance for what he could and could not give. All would look eagerly to the one who entranced him and wonder what it was that they lacked.
“Elladan has departed?” Elrohir asked nonchalantly as he took his place beside his father.
Elrond looked quizzically at his son but kept silent on the question he wished to ask. “At dawn,” he answered as he regarded Elrohir, “they will not return until the snows fall in the mountains.”
Elrohir’s fingers curled tight around the paper in his hand. “So long?” he whispered.
Elrond was little surprised by his son’s reaction. The communication that had once existed between the twins was mostly gone. He found himself wishing for the days when two dark heads huddled together in private, silent conversation, sharing all their secrets, inseparable and indistinguishable. He found himself hoping that their paths had not become so separate that their choices would reflect their differences.
“Of necessity, Elladan petitioned for such, taking only those with him willing to forego a bed for the discomforts of the road,” Glorfindel answered as he sat to the left of his lord.
“I understand,” Elrohir replied softly. There had been no goodbye from his brother, only the grey eyes turned to the window in the half light.
Given the night before Glorfindel wondered how much it was that Elrohir understood, but kept his counsel as the talk turned to matters of more import than that of the personal lives of the inhabitants of Imladris.
That night Elrohir begged forgiveness as he slipped alone away to his bed following the evening meal. He had struggled to get through the day without seeking permission to ride off after Elladan and had no inclination to test his patience further with having to utter meaningless phrases in a round of conversation of which he held no interest. In truth, to the surprise of many, this night was not to prove an exception as Elrohir increasing sought solitude in his bed, easing the loneliness with reading and for the first time in many years opening his sketching book. He had spent the first night turning the pages of the old book, remembering, tracing his finger over the laughing drawing of Elladan, wondering when it was that last he heard his brother so happy. He sketched Elladan once more, recalling him in battle, the proud warrior with sword in hand, the skilled archer with bow drawn back, the fire in his eyes burning bright. He sketched the Elladan that resided in Imladris, the quiet brother standing in the shadows with haunted eyes, assisting in the healing halls, scribing at his desk. Each night Elrohir put aside the book, tying the cord around its increasing girth, to try to find peace in sleep.
II.
The village was a much needed relief from the rigors of the road. The mortals who inhabited the desolate land welcomed the troop of elves with as much eagerness, for it was they who had swept through the mountains to rout the evil creatures from their caves. Life would be a little less harsh, crops could be planted and reaped with less fear, children freer to play in the open, women more sure their menfolk would return at the day’s end. The elves asked for nothing in return save a roof over their heads and warm water for bathing. This and more was granted, food appeared on the sparse tables, rent garments were removed, to be returned washed and skilfully repaired, feathers and sapling wood given for the fashioning of arrows. And in the night hours, offers of companionship.
Elladan was gracious in his avoidance of the invitations. He had no more wish to take to bed any of the villagers than he had any of the elves who had offered their charms to him, though it was a pleasant thought that at least in the village he was not the consolation for those unlucky in their wiles with his brother. Elladan turned all aside with a smile and a murmured explanation. All of them, until one night when strong horses of the Rohirrim ventured upon the settlement. Among their number, a son of the village returned.
Amidst the commotion, Elladan looked up from his cup, curious to observe the normally reserved folk. The man’s dark brown eyes fixed on Elladan as he glanced up, Elladan bowing his head in acknowledgement, one fighter to another. Elladan returned to his contemplations, aware that the man continued to regard him until he was lead away by the folk of the village, glad to see one of their number return. Only then did Elladan chance a look back, taking in the tall, broad figure in appreciation. Seldom had he been swayed by any but his brother, yet if this one asked, he would be hard pressed to refuse.
“I am told we have much to thank you for.”
The voice was a surprise, rich in tone and from one Elladan had felt sure had been spirited away by his kinfolk.
“We do as you do, it is our duty,” Elladan replied.
“You do more.” The man sat down next to Elladan. “You have shared your knowledge with us, worked in the fields.”
Elladan nodded.
“I am Amand, my lord.”
“Elladan, only Elladan.”
They talked until the lights in the great hall were dimmed, then in the growing darkness Amand placed his hand on Elladan’s arm. Elladan nodded in reply.
“Yes,” he answered, surprised at the word slipping from his lips.
It was not the first lover either had taken, that was certain from the expert hands that disrobed each other, and from the skilled fingers that explored the supple flesh. Elladan hissed when Amand curled his tongue over his ear, gripping his arm as the man sucked gently on the pointed tip.
“You are not like men,” Amand whispered, his hand sliding along Elladan’s thigh, “and yet there is much that is the same…you are beautiful Elladan, more than I imagined elves to be.”
Elladan stood while dark eyes raked over his body. The kiss brought them together as they tumbled onto the bed, Elladan taken aback when he found himself kneeling between strong thighs.
Amand smiled. “It is what I prefer, forgive me, if I overstep the mark on this, I had assumed that this you would find pleasurable.”
Elladan indeed found it to his pleasure, unsure at first that it gave equal enjoyment to Amand, relieved when he heard the moans of desire in response to each of his actions.
They were inseparable companions for the remaining days before the Rohirrim returned to reclaim their warrior. The relationship had been a source of comment and surprise among both elves and men used more to Elladan’s restraint in such matters. They had said their goodbyes in private, made love several times in the night as had been their wont in their time together and gifted each other with small mementoes of their time together.
Elladan raised his hand in salute as Amand did likewise before riding away.
It was later in the day that Elladan returned to his room, a space that felt deserted now, bereft as it was of the one he called friend. Elladan smiled as he walked around recalling the scent of the man as he lay on the bed, his head pressed to the pillow. Stretching out his hand he felt the little parcel sitting just under the covers. It was neatly wrapped in coloured paper and Elladan turned it over in his hand before he unwrapped it. He laughed as the smooth shape of the bottle was revealed. The note was written in expert script. Elladan gazed at the words for a long time remembering the conversations he had shared with Amand. Somewhere in those words the man had discerned the truth.
“For you and the lover who waits for you, for he surely yearns for you as you do for him. Go to him, love him well.”
Elladan took the stopper from the top of the bottle. The scent drifted around the room, the sweetness of it reminding him of buttered honey. Carefully he poured a little onto his hand. The golden liquid trickled between his fingers, cool at first then warming on his skin. Unbuckling his belt and unlacing his breeches with one hand, Elladan stroked his burgeoning erection, smoothing the oil along the length, imagining as he did another’s hand on him, preparing him, eyes dark in anticipation. The climax was fulsome, Elladan biting down on the pillow as he turned his head, his brother’s name on his lips, Elrohir’s beautiful features to the forefront of his thoughts.
III.
The first dust of white appeared on the high mountains, the wind bringing the chill of winter. The villagers wrapped heavy cloaks about themselves as they gathered the last of the crops, the elves, immune to the bite of the air collected what they could to stock the barns and cupboards. Elladan scanned the horizon, the passes would soon be too dangerous to transverse and they must make their own preparations to depart for home.
Home.
Elladan smiled at the thought with mixed feelings. He wondered what had kept his brother during the months, how many had occupied his bed, wondered what was to become of the two of them once he returned.
There had been many thoughts, courage flowering, only to whither under the harsh light of growing. There were the playful suggestions that Elladan’s life was too chaste, the ample evidence that Elrohir’s was not, the gradual withdrawal from each other, breaking the bonds that were once so unbreakable between them. He had cradled the vial and wondered anew. Imagined what it would be like to see Elrohir’s beautiful face reflected on the surface, to feel the ripple of muscle and tendon beneath the smooth skin as he applied the oil, to see Elrohir shiver.
Elladan traced the ink on his chest. The needle had stung as the craftsman had pierced his skin, the man’s brow furrowed as he concentrated on the intricate letters that he had never seen before. It had been a surprising request from the elf, but the man relished the opportunity to work on so magnificent a canvas. He had been open in his admiration when Elladan had removed his tunic, touching the area to be adorned with reverence. Hence the work had taken longer than it might have it been on the rougher skin of a man. This had to be perfect to match the perfect creature who had commissioned it. Elladan had paid handsomely, pleased with the way it lay on his pale skin.
IV.
Elrohir watched the snow fall in tiny flakes, landing on the ground to glitter in the cool sunlight. It had been falling for weeks now, the mountains covered in a white shroud. Daily word came of another pass blocked and Elrohir began to feel his wait futile.
“He will return Elrohir,” Erestor whispered, watching the same pathways.
“Yes,” Elrohir sighed, “he will.”
“And talk to him Elrohir, do not let him think you do not care.”
“How can I? What can I tell him when he looks at me with such a distance between us?” Elrohir sought the comfort of the offered embrace. “How can I?”
“By telling him the truth, telling him what you have kept from him for so long.”
“And if he turns away?”
“What do you feel in your heart Elrohir, what do you truly feel?”
“Sometimes….sometimes, when he looks at me, I see, in his eyes, ….then he looks away, walks away.”
They had been walking away from each other for so long, Erestor cradled the young elf as he thought, that they doubted so much about each other now, even if one would return as he had promised.
Elrohir’s sketches lay on the table where he had placed them, an assortment of his thoughts scattered over each other. Erestor felt akin to a voyeur as he glanced through them. They were exquisite in their execution, the power and energy that they conveyed so potent. Overlaying the sensual nature of them was the feeling of love behind them. They could not have been sketched from memory, they were mementoes of what might be.
And they were obviously Elladan.
One had the quiet elf reclining on a bed with his hand out stretched in invitation to some unknown figure, another with his hair sprayed across a pillow, one hand resting on his stomach as the other curled around an erect organ, yet another of two identical bodies, limbs intertwined, one atop the other.
And one, poignant in its simplicity.
Fully clothed and armed, brothers holding each other tight, a heartbeat from a kiss. If just one image would sway Elladan, to convince him that Elrohir felt as he did, it would be this. There in Elrohir’s own eyes was the sorrow and the longing, in the grip of his hands on his brother, the desperation, in the poise of his mouth, the need. And in Elladan’s eyes, Elrohir had captured the same desire and love.
“Elrohir,” Erestor murmured, “all you need do is show him this.”
Elrohir watched as Erestor turned the pages before handing him the drink and gathering them up.
“They are beautiful, you would have made an excellent scribe.”
Elrohir laughed. “I had hardly the patience for such duties, these….these are …”
“From the heart,” Erestor finished, sipping at his wine, “you should show him Elrohir.”
“No.” The tone was sharper than he intended and he bent his head in apology, ”no, no, I cannot Erestor, I cannot.”
Erestor shook his head in resignation as the bell rang to announce the evening meal. “Come, some repast at least.”
Sleep did not come easily to Elrohir, this night no different to all of the others since Elladan had left, his dreams in the pitch dark haunted by visions of Elladan as cold as the snow surrounding him, trapped with no way home, lost on the treacherous paths. Elrohir cried out as he saw himself, his hands blood red, the white snow stained as he tore at the rocks and earth that covered his brother. He heard his own voice screaming Elladan’s name, saw his own dirt streaked face wet with tears, knew that it was almost too late to save him.
He woke shivering in the morning light, tangled in the bed sheets, his pillow damp. Below he heard the rustle of hurried movements, then the gentle tap on his door. Wrapping the swathe of bed sheet around him, he hurriedly glanced to the courtyard before making for the door. Erestor stood smiling at first then frowning as he took in the pale cheeks and the dark rimmed eyes.
“Word has come that they are within the valley and riding hard for home.”
Elrohir did not attempt to disguise his relief, embracing Erestor warmly. “I dreamed he did not return, that I had no time to save him.”
Erestor was no interpreter of dreams so kept his council as Elrohir related the substance of it. Yet it seemed to him that within the vision was a message. Time was running out, perhaps not in regard to any physical harm, but to stave off the pain of unconfessed love.
Dressed and groomed, Elrohir walked with Erestor to meet with Elrond, together with Glorfindel they would welcome back the troop.
“They are here,” Elrohir murmured, feeling the warmth of recognition course through him, a sensation he had not been aware of for many years.
Elrond regarded his son thoughtfully, looking to Erestor who replied with a small smile. It was a start back, one small step.
V.
Elladan looked around at the familiar places as he prepared to dismount. He breathed deeply recalling the scents of his home, happy as he sighted those who meant most to him. Elrond eagerly embraced him, Elrohir stood to the side until both Erestor and Glorfindel had released him.
“Brother?” Elladan asked.
The returned twin was taken up in a fierce embrace. “Welcome home Elladan, you have been missed.”
Elladan cocked his head, wanting to ask for more but his thoughts were interrupted by his father.
“Once you are bathed and rested, come and we will speak on what it is you have learned.”
Elladan nodded, waiting for Elrohir to speak again. When he did not Elladan excused himself and made for his rooms. Erestor watched the interchange between the two young ones with a sigh. So close, he had watched and waited. There before him was Elrohir’s sketch, a breath away from a kiss, but it had not happened.
VI
The bath was ready, the oils added and a grateful Elladan lowered his body into the water, a body that still resonated from the closeness of his brother. It would only have taken a change of words from Elrohir for Elladan to have found the courage to hold him in a lover’s embrace. If only he had whispered that he had missed him, given some hint that above all it was he who wanted him back.
Elrohir’s hand lingered on the door. He had come to talk to his brother, certain while in his room this was what he wanted, now on the threshold the old questions rose in his mind. With a sigh, he walked away.
Stepping from the cooling water, Elladan stopped before reaching for the towel. Elrohir was close by. Swiftly fastening the towel he hastened to the door, opening it to the empty corridor. The door closed softly, Elladan went back to preparing to meet with his father and captain, certain Elrohir had been there. A mirror reflected the symbol on his chest as he dressed, Elladan pausing a while to stare at the hope it represented.
VII
The pendant that Elladan wore flashed in the sunlight as he sparred with Glorfindel. It had not been intentionally hidden beneath his clothing since his return, it simply felt better close to his skin. Elrohir sat upright when he caught the gold, his brother seldom wore any adornment, much less what was not elven wrought. With a bow the combatants concluded the bout, Glorfindel fingering the stylised horse that hung around his opponent’s neck.
“’Twas a gift,” Elladan answered to the quizzical look, “from a friend,” he added noticing Elrohir’s interest.
“From the Rohan?” Glorfindel asked for his own and Elrohir’s curiosity.
“Aye, in a manner….from one who rides with them in defence of his land.”
Elrohir looked away. A gift such as the one that Elladan now tucked under his tunic would not be given to a passing acquaintance, not merely in thanks for what the elves had done within the village. Why he felt the piercing pain of jealousy he knew he had no right to feel came as no surprise. Since his brother’s return Elrohir’s feelings had crystallised. He was in love, and it hurt to think of Elladan with another, pained him to think of another touching him intimately, kissing him. So immersed in his thoughts he almost missed Glorfindel’s suggestion that they take advantage of the warmed water of the springs to refresh themselves.
VIII
The clothes were folded on the grass nearby, Elladan removed the pendant before entering the water. All three rested back on the rock edge, comfortable in the silence that surrounded them. Elrohir gazed at the mark on his brother’s chest as Elladan reclined with eyes shut. The intertwined letters on the pale skin looked so skilfully wrought that Elrohir was hard pressed not to lean forward and trace his finger over them. The man who had given Elladan the pendant had not been named, was it his that was woven with Elladan’s? As Elladan opened his eyes Elrohir looked down at the water lest he be caught regarding his brother with the desire he felt for him. Elladan in turn glanced to his brother whose head was bowed, his loose dark hair hanging to partly obscure his beautiful face. What was in stark relief was the curve of his neck, the smooth flawless skin that Elladan longed mark as his own. Glorfindel watched the interchange between the twins with the same despair his lover felt and the identical sense of helplessness. He had jested that the two be locked in a cupboard until they came to their senses, withdrawing it only when the gleam in Erestor’s eye indicated he would consider it.
Hoping to engage the twins with each other, Glorfindel spoke of the defences that had been set in place, of future sorties into the mountains, drawing on the experience of both. Given the common ground Elladan and Elrohir exchanged ideas readily, often in good humour as they retold stories, jesting with each other. In good spirits the three dressed and returned to their respective rooms to prepare for the evening meal.
IX
Elladan watched the familiar circles form around his brother until he could bear it no more, leaving to seek the quiet of the gardens. There he sat his hands folded on his lap watching the shadows of the swaying trees. There was a numbness to his spirit, a detachment from the world that held him that it was not until the hands held his that he was aware of another. Confused he pulled gently away, but the hands gripped his. Only then did Elladan look into his twin’s eyes.
“Elrohir? Why? Should you not be within?”
“I am where I should be,” Elrohir replied as he continued to hold Elladan’s hands in his own. He had returned to his chamber, unable to face Elladan’s opening of his door. Shutting his own door tight against the world, he had taken his sketches out once more and looked at them. All the hope rested there within the charcoal on paper. It galvanised him as never before. He could not let this chance go, who knew when or if in this perilous world he would be given a second chance?
“I am where I should have always been and never should have left…..Elladan, there has been so much standing between us, please….can you forgive me…”
Slowly they intertwined slender fingers, Elrohir looking to Elladan for assurance before he felt the soft mouth caress his. Lips parted, hands moved to hold heads close, clutching tight, afraid. Elrohir ran his thumb of the point of Elladan’s ear, thrilling to the sound he heard resonate deep within his throat.
Never had Elrohir imagined that one kiss could be so different to the others he had shared, never had he thought, even in his most ardent dreams of his brother, that it would stir him like this. They looked at each other with shy smiles before Elrohir leaned close once more. The second kiss was as electrifying as the first, they moved their heads together, tongues brushing over each other, lips moulding to each other. Drawing back once more, Elladan traced a finger over his brother’s cheek then lay his head on Elrohir’s shoulder as they held each other, their laughter soft amid the tears.
From the balcony Erestor turned as Glorfindel slipped his arms around him, indicating with a nod the two dark figures who walked along the path, hand in hand.
“Perhaps it would be best to halt training for the morning,” Glorfindel jested, “it may not be beneficial.”
Erestor laughed, kissing his lover’s cheek. “And we can use the time to our advantage also.”
X
The paths were ones they had walked many a time. They had sat together as elflings at the pool and spoken of their hopes and dreams, of becoming great warriors who would defeat the enemies of the elves and be renown for their skill with blade and bow. Then there seemed to be nothing as important, for in their young minds, things would always be as they were, change was not something they conceived of. Now as they sat together, Elladan resting against his brother, all of those things coming to pass, they pondered a new dream and hope.
“It grows late,” Elladan observed, “we should go back.”
“Aye,” Elrohir replied holding out his hand to Elladan as he stood, wrapping his arms around him as Elladan came to him. They delayed a while longer, unable to separate themselves, kisses exchanged as ardently as ever.
The awkward moment came when they stood at Elrohir’s door, his hand lingering on the handle.
“Would you….will you,” he asked not daring to look at Elladan until the last moment.
“Yes,” Elladan replied nuzzling at his brother’s neck, tongue licking over a bite mark left there, “yes.”
Wine was poured, arms linked as they drank, sitting on the large chair together. Elladan rested easily against his brother once more as the last of the wine was drunk.
“I have sleeping clothes if you wish.” The words were said so quietly with the lack of the usual confidence that Elrohir displayed with any other partner.
“Yes,” Elladan replied to the question he only registered on the outskirts of his hearing. He was at the table turning over the pages that had been scattered and left there. He marvelled at the drawings, he had forgotten just how talented an artist he brother was. Turning one page after another he recognised the subject of so many of the sketches, shaking his head at the time they had wasted. He held one in particular in his hands as Elrohir returned to the room, garments in hand.
Elrohir saw the picture in his brother’s hand. “I had not meant for you to see them,” he began, not confident of the way Elladan would perceive them.
“Why not Elrohir, they are beautiful, I am …….honoured by them, would that I could express how I feel in such a way…….would you have always hidden them from me had we not come to this moment?”
Elrohir started at the perception of his twin. Perhaps they had not drifted so far from each other as he had thought. “I would have not allowed them to see the light of day again had I lost my courage this night, I would have locked them away….it would have been too hurtful to look upon what might have been.”
Elladan held his brother tight in his arms, the sketch he held falling from his hands, its image committed to memory as he held his kiss from Elrohir for just a moment, a perfect imitation of the drawing now floating slowly to the floor. Later he would retrieve it and ask for it as his own.
XI
They had not disrobed in such a manner since they had chosen to occupy different rooms. Elladan tried to avert his eyes from his brother with only partial success. It was hardly that he had not seen Elrohir naked, that had happened this very afternoon, it was that they removed their clothing to share a bed.
“His name is Amand,” Elladan offered as Elrohir eyed the tattoo.
Elrohir traced the intertwined letters. “Then……”
Elladan looked down. “They are for us.” He took hold of Elrohir’s hand and retraced one E then the other. “For us.”
“For us,” Elrohir repeated, “it is beautiful.” He touched his own chest with a smile. Elladan nodded.
Elrohir bent his head to kiss the letters, Elladan threading his fingers through the long dark hair. Straightening Elrohir smiled, his own hands in his brother’s hair, pulling him into a deep kiss.
“Bed?” he asked shyly, to an equally shy brother.
“Yes,” Elladan answered, the clothing ignored as they held hands, then wrapped their arms around each other.
They stopped before the bed, eyes locked on each other. This was were their dreams had brought them, along different paths, but arriving at the same point. They both knew what it meant to take the next step. Small though it was in physical terms, it was what it represented that was the vast leap.
It was Elrohir who climbed onto the bed first, reaching out to Elladan. They lay facing each other, hands simultaneously gliding over each other’s side, coming to rest at the hip. It took little then for the slight tilt of heads and for lips to meet. Elrohir curled his leg over his brother’s, bringing their bodies closer to together. Never had a body felt so perfect nestled against him, never had one so perfect as Elladan resided within his bed. Tender, gentle, hesitant hands touched the warmth of each other for the first time as lovers and both understood from this moment, there would and could be no others for them, there was nothing left that any other could offer them that would match what it was they had in each other’s arms.
What remained of the night passed in exploration with fingertips and mouths, teeth and tongues, across smooth skin and aroused flesh, discovering what brought forth cries of desire, revealing areas of pleasure in each other, bringing each other to climax often, with their touches and words only. As the light broke through the velvet of the night to herald the start of a new day, they lay asleep in each other’s arms.
XII
Elrohir woke, stretching his body, smiling at his still sleeping brother, kissing the swollen lips gently. The discrete knock on the door did not disturb Elladan, Elrohir wrapped the sheet around his waist, but the tray had been placed inside and the deliverer had disappeared.
The accompanying note was brief, written in Erestor’s hand, informing the twins that their presence at breakfast and subsequent training was not required, but they should avail themselves for the afternoon practice. Elrohir smiled as he held the note, wondering if Erestor had uttered whoops of joy or merely nodded his head with a gleam in his eyes. It did not concern him, and he knew it would not Elladan, to have the steadfast advisor and friend know what had transpired in the night.
Carrying the tray into the bedroom, Elrohir set it down on the table by the bed. He sat on the side, poured himself a drink, gazing at his brother as he sipped the juice.
“You are beautiful,” he whispered softly, stroking the silky mass of hair that spread across the pillow. Elladan’s arm was draped over his side, the other spayed over the bed, legs curled a little. He bore the marks of Elrohir’s teeth and mouth, bruises running down his neck and across his shoulders. Elrohir knew he wore the same marks, touching them gingerly, wondering what clothing he possessed would cover some of them at least. It had hardly been a problem to him in the past, none were allowed to claim him with such markings, just as they would not own his body. Now he had found the one he wanted to give that to, now he dared to dream it was possible.
Elladan stirred, feeling the glide of fingers over his body, sending a hope to the Valar that this was not a fancy of his imagination, that it was not the remnants of an illusion come to him in dreams. Tentatively he shadowed the hands, feeling the substance of them as long strong fingers curled around his. Only then did he focus his vision, smiling as they took in his brother. Elrohir leaned close, kissing Elladan softly on the lips, mindful of the fullness of their activities before the dawn broke.
Offering Elladan a sip of his juice, Elrohir relayed the news of their reprieve for the morning.
Setting the cup down, Elladan drew his brother to him. “Then we have been granted time to be alone,” he murmured as he lay Elrohir down on the bed.
“Indeed.” Elrohir spoke the word slowly, Elladan laying to face him, trailing his hand down Elrohir’s side.
“You are beautiful,” Elladan responded, mirroring Elrohir’s words to him, “I always envied those who could touch you when I could not. I wondered what it was like.”
Elrohir looked away, remembering hands that were not his brother’s, touches that he imagined to be Elladan’s in the darkness of the room, scents he tried to wash away in the mornings. Elladan turned his brother’s head back to him.
“I understand Elrohir, I understand why.”
It was a slow smile that graced Elrohir’s lips at Elladan’s words of acceptance. “I had always known that none could take what was your rightful place, but to ask you…..it was …not an easy thing.”
Elladan nodded, kissing Elrohir lightly. “It was no easy thing,” he agreed, “….to ask you to my bed.”
“But we find ourselves sharing a bed,” Elrohir laughed softly.
“Your bed.”
“My bed……our bed?”
Elladan frowned and Elrohir’s heart beat fast, thinking he had overstepped the boundary, that Elladan felt pressured, that was it all too soon after just this night’s confessions.
“You are sure, this is what you want?”
Elrohir nodded. “I am sure, so very sure.”
The words, coupled with the look in his brother’s eyes could not be misinterpreted.
“Yes,” Elladan replied simply, nothing more was needed.
Elrohir pulled his brother to him, the kiss as passionate as all had been through the night. There were other hopes that Elrohir did not share, not yet. There was time to know each other first, to continue the exploration they had begun in the night. Yet as he felt Elladan pressed close to him, he wondered how long he would be able to keep the dream secret.
“Should we eat?” Elrohir asked as he bit his lip, attempting to stem a reaction to Elladan’s insistent hand on his thigh.
His brother moved quickly, his tongue on the inside of Elrohir’s leg, a delicious trial to his groin.
“Food…..on….the ….tray..” Elrohir managed, not discouraging Elladan at all.
Elladan lifted his head with a sly grin, eyeing the contents of the tray. “If you insist,” he answered cryptically as he reached across Elrohir’s body to retrieve the honey pot.
“Elladan?”
“Something sweet to begin with,” Elladan began, turning the pot over in his hands before taking a sweet cake from the tray as well. He dipped the cake into the honey, offering it to his brother. He let the sticky liquid dribble onto Elrohir’s lips as he opened his mouth. Elrohir took a small bite and as he ran his tongue to catch the honey, Elladan leaned closer to lick at the sweetness. Their lips and tongues touched, a meeting made all the better for the warmed honey that allowed their mouths to glide over each other.
“More cake?” Elladan asked innocently, holding up what remained of the pastry.
Elrohir nodded, catching his breath as he felt the trickle over his chest. Holding up the cake once more, Elladan placed it within reach of him.
“And you?” Elrohir asked.
In part reply Elladan licked at the trail the honey had left across Elrohir’s chest. Elrohir shivered at the sensation, his hand in his brother’s hair.
“Elladan.” Elrohir breathed his brother’s name hoarsely, awed by the sensation aroused in him, frightened and delighted by the need for his brother that pervaded every fibre of his being.
In turn his brother lifted his head to exchange another impassioned kiss that fuelled the fire in Elrohir’s soul. He had promised himself he would wait, take time for the both of them to adjust to this step in their relationship. But with each kiss, each lap of Elladan’s tongue across his body, his resolve weakened.
Elladan simply looked at Elrohir with a smile, a curl of his mouth that promised so much more, that somehow reflected the love he held. “I have waited so long to have this with you,” he murmured, pouring a drizzle of honey into the palm of his hand. Dipping his finger into the pool he watched as it glistened on his finger tip. Smoothing it over the taunt nipple, looking at Elrohir as he did. Elrohir watched as best he could, finally laying back as soft lips wrapped themselves around the nub to suck gently. Elladan’s hand touched over awakening flesh, stroking down the length slowly. The cake in Elrohir’s hand crumbled onto the bed as he strove to maintain some control under the subtle onslaught. He moaned, caught hold of Elladan’s free hand, writhed against the body that lay partly atop him, wondered how he could resist taking this further, amazed he had not seen this sensuality in Elladan before, surprised that there had not been a stampede to his brother’s bed in the light of this.
Elladan looked at intervals to his brother, searching for something that would show any hesitation in accepting the way he was touched. This was the makings of his dreams, the unbridled ability to touch Elrohir intimately, explore the body so like his own, but so unique. Such softness in the hard lines of his chest and stomach, strength unimagined in the curve of muscle, Elladan was sure there was no other who possessed such power, such charismatic presence. He had no need to wonder what attracted others in numbers to his brother’s bed, no need to consider what kept them longing for more, there was simply none to compare with Elrohir. And how he loved him.
“You are beautiful,” he murmured.
Elrohir had had his share of flatterers. In the early days he had let them rule his head, and thought his heart touched by them, later he had recognised them as ploys for his affections, though he did not doubt all of them, for there were those who had indeed touched his heart and moved him to think of them fondly, but never to love so completely. The words may be the same, yet they held such meaning that they may never have been uttered before to him. Memories of even the finest lovers paled in comparison to how Elladan made him feel. He pressed the palm of his hand to Elladan’s cheek.
“’Tis you who are beautiful,” he replied, “I feel beautiful because of you.”
Elladan looked up with shining eyes. Had Elrohir been privy to his fantasies, somehow reached into his thoughts and been able to utter just what he had always wanted to hear? Pressing his cheek to Elrohir’s hand, he felt the thrill of fingertips caressing his ear.
“May I?” he asked quietly, his own hand stroking the now hard erection.
“Always,” Elrohir replied, laying back as Elladan once more wrapped his lips around him and once more he was assailed by feelings of want.
Elladan curled his tongue, sliding his mouth back and forth, his throat relaxed as Elrohir thrust forward, his hands reaching under the firm buttocks to hold his brother to him, savouring the release when it came, hot and sweet in his mouth, rivalling the honey that lingered on his tongue, his own seed spilling over Elrohir’s thigh. He curled then into the welcoming arms of his brother, Elrohir offering comfort and love. He had barely needed the constant touch to reach repeated climax, it was enough to feel the shiver within Elrohir and taste the results of his actions.
Little of the food had been eaten, save for a few cakes and the honey, whose empty jar sat discarded on the bed, drops of amber coloured liquid dotting the bed sheets, reflecting the light that bathed the room, testament to the passage of time.
“We had best bathe and dress, else the afternoon will be upon us, and we are expected.” Elladan’s voice was sleepy, the night and morn leaving him emotionally, if not physically tired, “there will be little indulgence for us if we neglect our duties further.”
Elrohir nodded, not inclined to move too quickly, stretching his well loved body carefully. A scattering of new marks were evident, his brother less , but either would leave little doubt as to their activities.
Finally they could delay no longer, stepping together into the warm scented water of the bath in Elrohir’s chambers. Close together, they washed, exchanging shy smiles with each other. In the silence Elrohir once more pondered what he wished to ask of his brother.
“Elladan….,” he started, causing Elladan to lift his head at the tremble in Elrohir’s voice.
Fear and apprehension gripped Elladan as he pulled away, his back rigid as he sat upright, readying himself for what he imagined was to come. He bit at his lip to stem the hurt that welled within him, determined to show no weakness. It had seemed so different with Elrohir, he had hoped that they had meant the words they had spoken to each other, that it was not the thrall of loving that had brought them forth, a practiced response that meant nothing once the spell had been lifted.
“Elladan.” His name was spoken softly, as tenderly as the hand that turned his head. “do not turn from me,” Elrohir pleased, his words barely audible, “not now, please.”
Elladan was unresisting as he gazed into grey eyes, and was lost in them. He could not give this up without a fight, even if he feared Elrohir’s words.
“There are things I would ask of you Elladan, answers I seek, but I would ask that you think on them, and not answer aye or nay until the day is over.”
Elladan cocked his head, unsure of what it was that Elrohir wanted from him.
“You will agree?”
Reluctantly Elladan nodded, torn between trust and fear.
Elrohir’s heart went out to his brother, it was obvious that Elladan feared the worst from him, yet he struggled to find the words he wanted and in the silence felt Elladan slipping from him.
“I would have you …with me…tonight…..and all the nights to follow,” he began at last, noting the change in Elladan as he opened his mouth to speak, “no, my love, do not answer until after we have completed this day.”
“And the second ?” Elladan asked, more at ease now, deliriously happy as he waited.
“There is but one more thing I can give to you, one part of me besides my heart, that I have offered to no other……..you have my heart, I wish you to have my body as yours also.”
Elladan looked with such love upon his brother that he was not sure if in fact he had heard the words at all. “You would have me…..”
“Yes, Elladan, more than I can put words to, I have wanted it for so long……and these past hours with you have made it clearer to me that is it right to desire you in such a way.”
Elladan knew his answers, pleased with the first, taken aback by the second request, never thinking that Elrohir would be the one happy to surrender himself to him. Yet there would be no possible way that he would refuse Elrohir any want. He pressed his hand to Elrohir’s cheek.
“Truly you must know how it is that I will answer, yet I will do as you ask and wait until the silver of the moon lights the sky to tell you.”
XIII
The afternoon was one of the longest Elladan had known. There was a myriad of things that needed his attention, but there was little that held his focus for long. The practice with the bow had been abandoned by a smiling Glorfindel, and now Erestor watched the third vain effort to scribe a section of manuscript before taking the quill from his hand and setting it down on the table. Elladan looked up apologetically.
“It requires a steady hand and concentration Elladan, and you have precious little of either skill at the present,” Erestor smiled, patting the empty hand. It was not a reproach, merely an observance. “Leave it until what concerns you now is resolved, this will need revising if you attempt to continue. “
Elladan mouthed a thank you, noting the heads turning in their direction. Erestor offered the more secluded space of his office as he sensed Elladan’s need to speak on matters that others need not be privy to.
Erestor closed the door to guard against eager ears. He motioned to the chair which Elladan gladly accepted, staring at his hands as he twined them, until he finally rested them on his lap. Erestor waited patiently as he had with all of Elladan’s announcements. The careful twin seeking the right words, rehearsing them before they were uttered.
“Elrohir…….Elrohir and I, spent the night together, and most of this day,” he began., looking up to Erestor who nodded. They both knew this was so, but Erestor was grateful that Elladan was able to openly tell him.
“I am glad for you Elladan, so happy,” Erestor embraced his young pupil, Elladan nestling into his arms as he had always done, finding the comfort in both his joy and sadness. Pulling back, Erestor sensed more was to come. While this was a momentous step in Elladan’s life, it did not fully explain his current agitation . “And…” he gently prompted.
Elladan looked up. “And, he asked something from me…..”
Erestor nodded, guessing at what it was that had been sought, still he waited, letting Elladan take his time to form the words as he wished.
“He asked that I stay with him, that I be with him….always…..” Elladan looked down at his hands as they once more were tangled and untangled.
“And this bothers you?” Erestor offered, placing himself in the position of the young elf who had found all he wanted suddenly offered to him, and was just as suddenly unsure.
“I told him I needed no time to think on it, that I was sure of my answer……..Erestor, I am still sure of my reply to him…..but what if he is not….what if it was only…..only what we shared that prompted him to ask, that it was lust that motivated him, and in the light of day, and with time to reflect…..he finds he cannot give what it was he offered…..what if he finds it was the forbidden that drew him to me, not the love he professed?”
Erestor knelt so that he could take Elladan in his arms. “Elladan, I too had doubts, questioned the motives and whether it was love that Glorfindel felt for me, so I know what it is you question…..but I can see it in his eyes as I saw it in Glorfindel’s……it is love Elladan, pure and simple, love for you.”
There were tears in Elladan’s eyes, Erestor could feel it in the shudder of his body, Elladan felt so fragile at this moment.
“He asked something further…” Elladan added softly.
With Elladan’s head on his shoulder, Erestor could guess what it was that now was requested. It had been strange to Glorfindel when he had discovered just how intimate where the secrets that the twins shared with his lover. To those involved it was nothing more than a reflection of their trust in each other. With this knowledge, Erestor was aware of Elladan’s brief experience.
“With Amand……”
“I had no such difficulty, but we did not love, not in the way true lovers love.”
Erestor cupped his hands around the distraught face, kissing Elladan chastely on his lips. “Elladan you love with your heart, your body will follow its lead….take the gift, use it as Amand intended.”
Elladan laughed nervously. “Its scent will certainly refresh Elrohir’s memory of our activities……it is a sweet.”
“It was not only the oil he gifted you with Elladan.”
“No. no it was not only that.”
With a last embrace, Erestor watched a more content Elladan leave, hoping that he had advised correctly, and that he had not misjudged Elrohir.
XIV
Elladan sat in silence at the table, little of the food on his plate becoming more than a plaything. Elrohir was not present, not a rare event, but one that this night weighed heavily on him. Once it was polite to do so Elladan excused himself to walk alone along the corridors, halting before Elrohir’s door, his hand on the latch, only to turn away and seek the sanctuary of his own rooms. The room was alight with the soft flickering of multiple candles as he entered. Elladan searched the room, puzzled at the profusion of red blooms of roses that decorated his chambers, interspersed with the candles, on the table a bottle of wine with two glasses.
“Elrohir?” he asked the seemingly vacant space.
Elrohir appeared dressed in sheer pants that hid nothing, a vision that Elladan could not have conjured even in his most erotic dreams of his brother. His skin glistened in the light, dusted as it was with silver. His hair was unbraided, falling across his shoulders and chest. Elladan gasped as Elrohir took a step closer and the warm scent of lavender and mint assailed his senses.
“I thought…” Elladan began as Elrohir held him in his arms, a kiss, light to his lips but charged with such emotion that he swayed under the pressure.
“I am sorry,” Elrohir stroked his brother’s hair as he spoke, taking out the braids, untangling them with his fingers, “but…..I could not leave well alone, I feared that you may run from me….I wanted to be a little more……..persuasive…...” It was not the right word, Elrohir knew that, he did not want to force an answer on his brother, what he wanted to do was to show Elladan how he felt. He kissed him gently, a brush of lips. “I did not, I do not want you to think you are like the others, you have always been the one I have thought of, dreamed of…..”
Elladan laughed softly, his brother pulled away from him, certain that in his jumbled earnest words he had caused what he was attempting to avoid. He had never felt so vulnerable, so lost for the right words, words that usually tripped so easily from him. But this was no part time bed mate, this was the one he loved, Elladan was different and it made him anxious.
“Shhhhh, Elrohir, “ Elladan urged gently, “ there is no need for words, I do not have to be convinced……..I thought you had doubts about us when you were not at dinner….but I do not need all of this to see the love you hold within, and if I did not trust my judgement, I have the wisdom of another to convince me that you are true.”
“Then I thank you,” Elrohir replied, tugging at Elladan’s clothing. “A bath is ready, bathe and return to me with haste…..then we will talk, I would hear your answer.”
Elladan’s heart hammered as he removed the last of his clothing and entered the bath. The water was scented and he guessed Elrohir had used the same herbs for his bath. On other nights he would have lingered in the warmth, closing his eyes to imagine Elrohir waiting for him. This night he took only the time that was necessary to clean and refresh his body before wrapping the towel around himself, drying his skin before putting on the clothing Elrohir had left for him, this night he did not have to imagine.
The fabric of the pants was soft to the touch and it glided over his body, clinging around his muscular thighs, outlining the curve of his calves and he guessed his buttocks as well. Brushing his damp hair he let it flow over his shoulders as his brother had done. With a smile he took a little longer to prepare himself, taking out the small container that had also been a gift from its place on the table. Dipping the strip of cotton into the dark mixture he carefully traced under his eyes as he had been shown, then added a similar thin line to the lids. He blinked into the mirror, satisfied with the reflection.
The effect was not lost on his brother as he stepped out. If Elladan had been stunned by the sensuality of his brother, then he had matched the effect, for Elrohir openly gaped at his brother. The intertwined letters on his chest stood out on the pale skin, more so as Elladan appeared to have rubbed oil into his skin, the sheer material had the desired effect of following Elladan’s every move, caressing his body as a second skin, shimmering in the light. The pants were slung low on his hips, covering only just the swell of his groin, that in itself was enough to arouse him, but what drew Elrohir’s attention above all was the outlined eyes He stepped closer, his hand hovering close as Elladan flicked his eyes closed.
“Where did you learn to do that?” Elrohir murmured in awe of the effect, “it is striking.”
“Amand,” Elladan replied softly.
Elrohir’s hand fell as a quiet sigh was uttered involuntarily and he cast his eyes down.
Elladan turned his head so that he could search his brother’s face, and Elrohir his.
“He is a friend. Elrohir, a dear friend who taught me much about what it is to love,” Catching his brother’s look, he continued, “yes, I do love him, and he me, but it is a love of friendship, he has a lover he is gladly sworn to, as he knew I was for you.”
Elrohir smiled once more. “He is wise then.”
Elladan nodded. “I will teach you how to apply the lines, but there is much more he showed me that I would rather share.”
“Show me,” Elrohir breathed, “show me.”
Elladan guided his brother to the bed, laying him down on the crisp fine cotton of the sheets. With skilled hands he removed the light garment, the revealed body drawing a moan, his tongue darting over his lips as the sight before him pervaded his every sense. For his part Elrohir traced over the letters above his brother’s heart with his fingers. It was a tangible testament to his love if Elrohir ever needed one and it would stand as a reminder for all time and to all a warning as to where Elladan’s heart lay. Elladan looked down at the fingertip weaved over the tattoo, then to the look in his brother’s eyes.
“I will have one to match,” Elrohir vowed.
Elladan nodded, there would be no disagreement from him, there would be those in Imladris who would perform the task.
Fanning out his brother’s hair out across the pillow with his fingers, the pants now discarded fully, Elladan stood by the bed, taking off his own clothing as he committed to memory the scene before him, open in his admiration for his brother.
“By the Valar you are beautiful,” Elladan breathed slowly as he touched his brother, “you are so beautiful, so beautiful.” He lowered his head, the bite marks he had placed on his lover’s neck would remain for days, replacing the ones fading from the previous night and morning.
“No more than you, “ his brother replied, “you are truly magnificent.” Little wonder Elrohir considered as Elladan’s attention focused on his right nipple, the soft lips latching a hold to suck it to hardness, that there were many who would have gladly shared his bed had he been of the mind to do so. That the one who had succeeded dwelled in far off lands pleased Elrohir, though he knew fully his brother’s pain at his own less than discrete liaisons. Perhaps one day Elrohir would tell of those, who in the moment of climax, called out the name of his twin, before more thoughts of the past assailed him, Elrohir’s breath was taken by Elladan’s next move. His brother’s tongue slid along the sensitive skin of his groin. His erection hardened further, his body arching up to the touch, feet and hands digging into the bedclothes below him.
“Elladan, “ he murmured huskily as the tongue continued its slow exploration of his flesh. Dark hair draped over his thighs, caressing his skin as his brother moved, gentle as a hand reached up with fingertips outstretched to trace over his mouth. Elrohir parted his lips, Elladan grazed his finger over the exposed teeth, his own mouth open to slip moistened lips over his brother’s erection. Elrohir nipped at the finger as Elladan raised and lowered his head, Elrohir engulfed and released in an agonisingly simple action that left him panting. Nipping at the finger, sucking at it in imitation of Elladan’s mouth on him, Elrohir was unable to stop the arch of his back, sinking further into the warm wetness of his brother’s mouth, deep to his throat, Elladan relaxing to allow it. This was all so new to Elrohir, always the dominant one, he moaned, a sound matched by his brother, Elladan’s response reverberating over his hard body.
Elladan eyed his brother with undisguised lust. “Still want me?” he asked, the question so unnecessary that Elrohir almost laughed.
“No other, ever again,” he replied, Elladan withdrawing his finger to slide it down Elrohir’s chest and stomach. His twin shivered, understanding where the trail would stop.
Elladan smiled, his finger tracing over the erect organ from tip to base, almost teasing in its motion. The smile turned more deadly as Elladan held his brother’s gaze and his finger paused only briefly before Elrohir’s gasp told him he had found the place he was seeking. Elrohir moaned and tossed on the bed, pressing down on the intrusion, relishing the exquisite pain, and only barely able to imagine the pleasure of Elladan within him. For Elladan’s part he felt the untouched nature of his brother’s body in the way Elrohir moved and cried out. It was not that he doubted Elrohir’s assertions that he was the first, it was simply his joy to be the one that surprised him.
“I have no wish to cause you pain,” Elladan whispered.
Elrohir shook his head though the pain was evident in his eyes, much more so was the expected pleasure.
“You will not Elladan,” he gasped, moving once more as Elladan gently added another finger into the untried channel. “It is more than I imagined, this desire for it, the need for you.’
It was not relief that seeped into Elrohir’s mind as Elladan withdrew from him.
“No, no,” he cried out, grasping at Elladan’s wrist trying to hold him.
“Turn over, Elrohir, there is more.”
Elrohir did as he was told albeit with reluctance, unsure what was to follow. Elladan offered a soft pillow to lift his hips and a gentle hand caressing his back in long sure strokes. He was much the confident lover, beyond what Elrohir knew of his experience, much then was due to the Rohan warrior.
“What else have you to show me?” he murmured, turning his head to look over his shoulder.
Elladan’s hands gently kneaded the muscles of his brother’s shoulders, drizzling a little of the contents of the vial over his skin. The liquid warmed from the body heat, glistening as Elladan smoothed it over the perfect form, working his way down the length of Elrohir’s spine until he knelt with Elrohir’s sleek thighs between his own. His next action drew further gasps from his brother as slick hands worked apart the firm muscles of Elrohir’s buttocks. The sweet elixir was smoothed over the tight muscles, a finger slipped inside once more, the intrusion welcome, Elrohir pushing back much to the delight of Elladan. Leaning forward Elladan kissed each cheek before using a little of the oil to rub over himself. With a sigh he pressed forward, guiding his erection to the entrance.
“No,” Elrohir groaned.
Elladan pulled back in shock, more primitive instincts of survival readying him to flee. Elrohir turned over, reaching out to his twin.
“Not like that,” he murmured, “I want to see.”
“But…..”
“I want to see Elladan.”
There was a curt nod of acknowledgement before Elladan was given little chance to defer. Elrohir pushed himself using a steadying hand on Elladan’s leg, his eyes blazing as he watched the length slip within him, only then did he look to Elladan. Dark eyes returned his gaze, a certainty expressed within them.
As one they moved, there was little of the awkwardness of new lovers, the confidence that came with complete trust and overwhelming love ensured that once joined they were more than just Elladan and Elrohir. Elrohir felt the flood of his brother’s thoughts, so much more intimate than the last night, there was little unknown now between them, all that was Elladan was now Elrohir. Elladan’s eyes glazed silver as he acknowledged and accepted the union. Unable to avert their gaze from each other, they moved hands unseen over what they could of each other, Elladan moved with long languid strokes within his brother, groaning at the clench of muscle around him, Elrohir cried out, fingers biting into his brother’s skin. And time and again he was breached, Elladan delving deeper with each thrust until he could contain it no longer. Sure hands grasped at Elrohir, fingers curling around the weeping organ, the hand matching movement for movement, the rhythm of his thrusts.
After as they lay panting, hair damp from the exertion, flaccid organs touching as they kissed threatening to spread the fire once more through their bodies, the twins looked to each other with a smile, certain there would be few within the walls of the house, nor even the gardens beyond who would not have heard the echoes of their passion.
As with the last night, it would not be the only time that the inhabitants of the haven would hear of their desire for each other. There would be those who would shake their heads in amusement of the antics of the young, and there would be those, who like Erestor, who would rejoice with teared eyes that at last the twins had found their place together.
“Would you….” Elladan asked softly as the light of day emerged from the darkness of the night.
Elrohir shook his head. “If it pleases you, I would not give this up,” he answered.
Elladan merely smiled in reply. “It pleases me.”
XV
The battle was as bloody as was to be expected when the very existence of all they had known was the prize. Men and elves, and a single dwarf fought side by side, until weary but in triumph they could again raise the banners of their houses high.
Elladan spied him in amid the revelry, the cut of his clothing and the braiding in his hair unchanged from what he remembered though several years had passed since their last meeting. They greeted each other as the friends they were, each regarding the other with interest. There were more lines on the face of the man, more faint scars to evidence the harshness of his life, but he was still the striking figure that had taught Elladan so much.
“You line your eyes still,” Amand commented as Elladan nodded, “and the magic of the elves sees you as much the youth you were when I first caught sight of you.”
Elladan bowed to the warrior who stood beside his friend, Eomer was now king and as such Elladan acknowledged his status, even as he saw the sadness in his countenance that indicated that he wished it were not so.
“You wear the ring still,” Elladan looked at the elven ring on Amand’s finger.
“As you do the necklet.”
The friends smiled at each other.
Amand touched Elladan’s cheek. “You are happy with your lot?”
The question needed no reply as Elrohir moved to stand with his brother. There was a flicker of amusement in his eyes as he noted the reaction of Amand and his lover at the twin images.
Elladan turned to his brother, touching his arm. “Aye, I am happy.”
The End