Title & Chapter Number: An Unbidden Desire: Part 3/7
Author(s): - Author's Index
Website: Dimensions_of_Dhvana
Fandom: Tolkien
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: With the exception of Menelhen, the characters and places in this story are the creation of Tolkien.
Warnings: Slash
Betas: Nope
Cast: Elrohir/Thranduil, Legolas/Elladan, Elrohir/Menelhen implied
Timeline: Pre LotR AU
Spoilers: None
Summary: The Lords of Mirkwood grow impatient for their lovers, asking Menelhen to separate the twins long enough to ease their frustrations, and Elladan makes a dangerous discovery.
Notes: Having abandoned RPS for a while (needed a break), I thought I'd share with y'all the FPS story I'm working on. Hope you enjoy and feedback would be most welcome!
Part 3
For the next two weeks, the Sons of Elrond were inseparable as they reforged the bond between them. Though they had only been apart for a couple of months, they acted as if it had been years, never seeming to run out of things to do or talk about. Sometimes, they didn't even need to speak at all, but acted in unison, their thoughts as one as they rose and slept, trained and hunted, played and relaxed together-always together. Though their hearts belonged to others, for those few weeks, it was as if no one else existed.
Legolas had known that when he fell in love with Elladan, he was truly falling in love with only half an Elf. He knew he couldn't have Elladan without Elrohir-one simply did not exist without the other. Despite knowing this, he was beginning to grow a little impatient at his lover for devoting every minute-awake or asleep-to his twin. He missed Elladan's company, his laugh, his kisses, his touch, his smile, and missing him was growing unbearable.
What made it worse was that he and Menelhen had fallen into their old pattern of teasing each other relentlessly until they were in a state of sexual frenzy with no culmination in sight. Or at least, not for Legolas. Menelhen had his own means of easing his frustrations, while Legolas's were beginning to drive him mad. It didn't help that Menelhen still refused to divulge his secret, enjoying their game-and the Prince's suffering-far too much. As he was making no progress with the Healer, and receiving no release from his lover, Legolas was quickly losing control.
Little did he know he wasn't alone in this situation. Thranduil, too, was growing tired of waiting for Elrohir's adoration of his brother to wan. He was in awe of the deep connection the brothers had-twins were so rare among their kind, it was impossible not to feel for them. Still, awe would carry him only so far, and Thranduil's tolerance was quickly reaching its limit.
As neither father nor son could tear their respective lovers away from each other, they did what all Elves in Mirkwood did when faced with a dilemma-they sought help of the Healer.
"You have to find a way to separate them, if only for an hour."
"An hour?" Menelhen asked, arching an eyebrow as he tried to conceal his amusement. "It's been two weeks-surely you need more time than that."
The pacing Prince didn't even pause in his path across the room while he shot the Healer a withering look. "If an hour is all I can get, I'm not going to object."
"So what do you want me to do?"
"I don't care what you do!" he snapped.
"Well," the Healer shrugged, "I suppose I could talk to Elladan for you."
Another withering stare in the Healer's direction. "Don't you think if it was that simple, I would still be here? Elladan expects me to be understanding and patient, so I can't do anything except wait, and Menelhen, I am tired of waiting!" Legolas walked over to the Healer and knelt down on his knees, staring up at the Elf with wide, pleading green eyes. Menelhen had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing out loud. "Please, you must help me! I'll do anything!"
Now he had to laugh. "We both know that's not true. However, as it is such a rare pleasure to see you on your knees before me, I shall consider aiding you."
"You're too kind," Legolas said, narrowing his eyes as he rose to his feet. "I suppose I will have to find some way to repay you."
"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that, my Prince. I'll let you know when and how."
"If I wasn't so desperate. . ." Legolas began, and was stopped by the Healer's chuckles.
"It's almost worth it not to have you pestering me about your father."
The Prince's eyes lit up-he couldn't believe he'd forgotten about his quest to discover Thranduil's secret. "Speaking of my father. . ."
"He wishes to have a word with his Healer. Alone."
Menelhen rose to his feet and they both turned to see Thranduil standing in the door to the Healer's quarters, the King's gaze far more glacial than usual.
"My Lord," Menelhen bowed as Legolas smiled sunnily at the regal Elf.
"Good morning, Father. How are you today?"
"Busy."
"Then I shall leave you two alone before you decide to delegate some of your responsibilities to me," Legolas said, trying to sneak past the King.
"Thank you for offering your assistance," Thranduil said, giving his son a hard stare. "I will be sure to send my seneschal to find you later."
"And thank you for the warning," Legolas winked. "I will most definitely be making myself scarce. Menelhen, I hope to hear from you soon."
Thranduil sighed as he watched the Prince make his escape. "And I am supposed to entrust the care of Mirkwood to him?"
"He is an excellent leader, as you very well know," Menelhen said, sitting back down and pretending to return to his work. "Let him enjoy his youth. When he is needed, he will become a force to be reckoned with."
"If he can tear himself away from Elrond's brat long enough to do his duties."
The Healer wisely chose to avoid responding to that remark. "You said you wished to speak with me, my Lord?"
Sitting down in front of Menelhen's desk, Thranduil cleared his throat when the Healer didn't immediately look up from his book. The Elf used his finger to mark the end of a sentence, then glanced at the King. "How can I help you, my Lord?"
Thranduil's eyes narrowed. "Haven't we moved beyond this point, Healer?"
"Oh, most definitely," Menelhen grinned, "but it's so much fun to tease you."
"Now is not the time."
"Ah, but my Lord, with you there is never a good time, so I must take advantage of the opportunities you provide me."
"Are you finished?"
The Healer thought about it for a moment, then nodded. "For now."
"Why do I put up with you? I will not abide such insolence from any other Elf, but for some reason, I have not yet seen fit to throw you in the nearest dungeon. Tell me, Menelhen, why is that?"
"There are three Elves in the entire Greenwood who enjoy your company, my Lord. Your son, though that is a recent development indeed, myself, and a certain brat of Elrond. Of those three, I am the only one not free to leave of my own accord, and therefore, you must put up with me."
"Your reasoning is somewhat twisted, my Healer," Thranduil said, the hint of a sparkle in his eyes. "Is this your subtle way of telling me you no longer wish to serve me?"
"Never, my Lord," he said, then gave the King a brazen smile. "You know my only purpose in life is to serve you in any way I can."
"Your 'only' purpose, dear Menelhen?"
The Healer touched his finger to his lips in thought. "Well, I may have one or two more, and maybe a couple more in addition to that, and perhaps a few more after that, but I can promise you, you will always be first."
"How reassuring," Thranduil said, then his face lost its hint of humor as he gazed at the Healer. "Menelhen, you know I would never hold you here should you desire to leave. You realize you are free to go whenever you wish."
The silver eyes looked up to meet blue, an emotion quashed in their depths so quickly, Thranduil could not interpret it.
"My Lord, your offer is most generous, and much appreciated," he said, truly surprised that the King would be so willing to let him go. He didn't know whether to be disappointed at the knowledge or pleased that Thranduil valued him so highly as to give him his independence. "However, I have no desire to leave Mirkwood. This is my home. You are my family. There is nowhere else I wish to be."
The icy King stared at the Elf before him, then quickly rose to his feet. "I am glad to hear it, because I need you to distract Elladan long enough for me to have some time with Elrohir."
"Miss him, do you?" Menelhen asked with a knowing smile.
"That is none of your concern."
"Come now, my Lord. It's a little late to be hiding your feelings for him, especially from me."
"That doesn't mean the affairs of my heart are of any of your business."
"Ah, so you admit your heart is involved!" he said, clapping his hands in triumph.
"Healer, you are testing my patience."
"It's one of those other purposes in my life I told you about. Explain to me, my gracious Lord, if you are so eager to see Elrohir, why don't you tell him so yourself?"
p "I would, if I could tear him away from that brat long enough to do so. Every time I get near, though, his brother finds a way to maneuver between us." Thranduil looked at him, a ghost of a smile alighting his lips. "I'm afraid he does not care for me."
Menelhen snorted. "Noticed that, did you? I do not doubt that if Legolas and Elrohir didn't intervene, he would find the first opportunity to corner you and demand your head."
"And would lose his in the process."
"Which is why they continue to intervene."
"I don't know what it is he thinks I did to offend him so. This seems to be carrying on beyond our usual family enmity."
"It is my belief that he suspects you of harboring intimate feelings towards his brother, and is sending you the message that he will not stand for it."
Thranduil gave the Healer a calculating look. "Do you honestly believe that?" Menelhen nodded, and the King's face softened as he grew thoughtful. "I never would have imagined him to be that perceptive. Ah, well, perceptive or not, find a way to separate them."
"Yes, my Lord," Menelhen answered with a nod of his head, keeping his face low so the King wouldn't perceive the laughter in his eyes. Why did they insist on making everything so ridiculously difficult? He didn't know how they would survive without him.
"Good."
As soon as the King left, Menelhen went in search of the twins, grabbing Legolas along the way. The brothers were found on the archery grange, Elrohir smugly showing off his recently improved talents with the bow to his rather dumbfounded sibling.
"Truly, Elrohir, if you continue like this, I swear you'll even be able to beat Legolas one day."
"What's this I hear?" Legolas said as they approached the brothers. "It seems my reputation is at stake."
"I did say 'if'," Elladan grinned, grabbing his lover by the waist and kissing him soundly. "Where have you been? I've missed you."
"Didn't want to interrupt," he shrugged, sending a sidelong glance at the Healer promising severe punishment should he suggest otherwise.
Menelhen quickly swallowed his grin as he turned to the other Son of Elrond. "Elrohir, I must admit, I am surprised to find you here."
"Why is that?"
"From the way Thranduil was gnashing about, I didn't think you'd dare to miss another turn at guard duty."
"Guard duty?" the ebon-haired Prince asked, staring blankly at the Healer. Menelhen widened his eyes slightly, moving his head with the barest of nods. He could almost see the pieces click together in Elrohir's mind as he slapped himself upside the head, saving Menelhen the trouble of slapping the Prince himself. "Guard duty! Of course! I can't believe I forgot. Elladan, I've got to go, but I'll meet you for dinner. Legolas, see to it he doesn't miss me too much."
"I think I can manage that," the golden Prince grinned.
"I don't understand," Elladan frowned. "Why are you doing guard duty?"
"My father treats everyone as equals," Legolas said. "We all take our turns at various chores throughout the castle. He says it gives us strength, but in truth, I think it's meant to teach us humility, something you could use a bit of," he added, nipping at his lover's nose.
"Hmph. Well, be careful," Elladan said, clearly unhappy about letting his brother out of his sight.
"I'll be fine," Elrohir laughed, giving the couple a hug, "and I'll see you later, I promise."
Grabbing Menelhen by the arm, he hurried into the castle. When they were well out of earshot, he paused and faced the Healer.
"He missed me, didn't he?" Elrohir grinned, his eyes glowing with eagerness and affection. "That's why he sent you to find me!"
"Actually, it was Legolas who sought me out to try and gain some time with Elladan."
"Oh," the Prince said, the light going out of his eyes as his shoulders slumpled. At seeing the Prince's reaction, Menelhen didn't have the heart to toy with the Elf as he usually would.
"However, Legolas barely had time to get his request out before Thranduil came barging into my rooms, ordering me to find a way to separate you from your brother."
"So he did miss me," Elrohir smiled, the light rekindling in his eyes.
"Yes, he did, though he refuses to admit it."
"Refuses?" the Prince said, a sly expression on his face, one that created a sliver of apprehension in Menelhen's heart. "Well, then, if his Lordship is truly so eager for my companionship, he shall have to seek me out and not simply send you to fetch me."
"Elrohir. . ." Menelhen began, suddenly afraid to know what thoughts were growing behind those blue-violet eyes.
"Tell the King that if he wishes to find me, the last you saw of me is that I was headed east."
"I will not. Get yourself into trouble, if that's what you want, but leave me out of it."
"Oh, come now, Menelhen, you should be used to getting into trouble with Thranduil by now," he laughed as he began walking down the corridor. "Remember-east!"
The Healer sighed, watching as the Prince vanished down the hall. As much as he thought Elrohir was good for the King, it was times like these that he wished the Prince had never come to Mirkwood.
Slowly, he turned and began trudging down through the castle towards the King's rooms. Thranduil was not going to be happy about this, not happy at all.
~*~*~*~
The King of Mirkwood stormed through the castle leaving chaos in his wake as Elves dived to avoid the flashes of lightning in his eyes and the rumbles of thunder from his chest. Even Menelhen hadn't waited long after delivering his news before quickly disappearing, wanting to be as far from his Lord's reach as possible. All who peered after the King were simply grateful not to be the object of his anger.
Needless to say, Thranduil was not happy. He might tolerate these instances of insubordination from his Healer, but not from an arrogant little Prince. He didn't have time to go chasing his lover around the woods. There was too much else that required his attentions, particularly the safety of his realm. The only reason he was playing the Princeling's game was to find him and send him to his grandfather. Let Celeborn deal with the brat, and the consequences of a broken agreement.
Heading east outside of the castle, the King was in such a foul mood he nearly missed the first clue of Elrohir's passage.
A pile of stones three inches high directed Thranduil towards which path to take through the trees, a subtle sign not easily noticed by most, but the King of Mirkwood knew the placement of nearly every stone in his demesne. Kicking the pile as he walked by, he quickened his pace.
The second sign was also indistinguishable, except to one who was looking for it. A single strand of ebony hair, shining like a thread from a spider's web, was tangled in the branch of a tree. Thranduil caught the silken wisp and yanked it from the branch as he passed, but there was the suggestion of a smile growing on his face. His student had learned well, but then, he'd had an excellent teacher.
As Thranduil continued his dash through the woods, he did miss the third sign until he was almost by it. A single leaf, its sides creased to form an arrow, directed the King to his final destination, his ears catching the distant rush of a waterfall before he reached the stream itself. He walked through the trees and into a clearing, where he stopped, frozen as if in a trance.
Before him was a vision which would have made the gods themselves weep with joy-or desire. His Princeling stood beneath a waterfall, the water passing in waves over his ivory skin, his raven hair spreading in rivulets over his back. Elrohir raised his head to welcome the water as it flowed over his body, his lips parting to drink the sweet moisture of the stream. Watching him, Thranduil's mouth went dry, his breeches tightening almost instantly.
Not even needing to see him to know he was there, Elrohir sensed the King's presence and looked at the Elf Lord over his shoulder. A coy smile curling his lips, his blue-violet gaze glowed with an otherworldly light as he beckoned the King to come to him.
And the King obeyed.
Not even bothering to remove his clothes, Thranduil dove into the water and waded to the waiting Elf. He swept Elrohir into his arms, plundering the soft lips with his own hungry ones. He drew on the Prince's heat, sucking Elrohir's warmth into him as he slowly backed the Elf up until they reached the rocks. Spinning Elrohir around, Thranduil undid his breeches and didn't even hesitate as he plunged into the Prince.
Elrohir lifted his head in a cry of pain and pleasure, clutching at the rocks with the hands he had placed there to brace himself. These past two weeks had been far too long without his lover, and Thranduil gave him exactly what he wanted while taking what he needed for himself. The King's shaft buried itself inside of him, grazing his pleasure spot with each movement, and driving Elrohir near to madness. He pressed against the King, wanting to feel more, demanding more. He didn't just want to sense Thranduil inside of him, he wanted Thranduil to overwhelm him till he didn't exist without the King.
Whimpers of joy escaped his lips as the icy Lord's long fingers began moving over his body, brushing over his arms, his chest, his hips, his thighs, and then settling between his legs. A strangled cry rose from Elrohir's throat as one of Thranduil's hands closed on his cock, the other resting over his heart. The King's mouth connected to his throat, first kissing, then gnawing, then biting till Elrohir's neck burned with the bruise that would form there, warming his skin and Thranduil's lips, heating the King to his bones.
Thranduil gave a few hard thrusts with his hand on Elrohir's shaft and the culmination of motions brought the Prince over the edge. Again, the Elf cried out as he spilled onto the rocks, his seed quickly washed away by the waterfall. The tightening of his body around the King brought him to orgasm and Thranduil quickly emptied himself into the Prince. Elrohir's head leaned against the rocks as he allowed the aftershocks to flow through him, his heart pounding in his ears the rhythm of his pleasure as Thranduil rested his forehead against the back of Elrohir's neck.
"I hate you," the King whispered as he continued to feel the tremors of his Princeling around him, cinders pricking at the backs of his eyes. All of his anger had vanished upon seeing the Elf, all thoughts of banishment gone, and for that he hated Elrohir, yes, but he also hated himself for being reduced to this. He was mindless, without a will of his own, a toy to be played with at the whim of a child, and all that child had to do was look at him, and he went from being a King to being the Prince's slave.
"Odd way of showing it," Elrohir said, turning his head to grin at his lover.
Thranduil looked into that blue-violet gaze shining with love and amusement, and he did the only thing he could do. He started to laugh. Wrapping his arms around Elrohir's waist, he laughed and held his Princeling close.
"Come, my Lord, you are soaked. We should get you out of those clothes."
Thranduil only laughed even harder, kissing Elrohir's cheek. "You and Menelhen," he chuckled. "It stops with the two of you, or I swear, every Elf in Mirkwood will start to disobey me and anarchy will reign."
"Good. Then you will have more time for me."
"Hush, my lovely Princeling," Thranduil said, slowly withdrawing from Elrohir's body. "I will give you the afternoon, and it will have to do."
"You really think you can spare an afternoon?" he asked, arching an eyebrow at the Lord as they waded out of the stream.
"I am King. If I wish to spare an afternoon, then it shall be spared."
"Such arrogance," Elrohir grinned, raising the King's hand to his lips. "I shall see if I cannot help rid you of some of that."
"Look at me," Thranduil said, glancing down at himself, his clothing a mess, his breeches undone, his hair in tangles. "I think you've done enough for one day."
"Nonsense, love," Elorhir said, drawing the King's mouth down for a kiss. "I've only just begun."
Thranduil paused, searching the Prince's face. He reached up to stroke an elegant cheekbone, the skin flushed warm against his fingers. "I enjoy hearing that word on your lips. Say it again."
"What word, my Lord?"
"Love."
The sun itself was blinded by the light in Elrohir's face as he smiled up at Thranduil. Even naked and dripping wet, pressed up against an equally sodden Elf, Elrohir couldn't remember a time when he had felt so happy.
Still, Thranduil needed to earn his happiness, and he looked at the King with mocking eyes. "I didn't even know you knew the meaning of that word."
A low chuckle issued from Thranduil's throat. "There are several different meanings to love, and I happen to know quite a few of them."
"Indeed. Tell me, which meaning did you think I was referring to?"
"Hmm. . ." the King began, his wintry eyes glittering with amusement. "I would have to say the all-encompassing, all-consuming love that only comes with a great passion and leaves you lost without me."
"I'm afraid you've been working too hard, my Lord," Elrohir said, shaking his head, "because your mind seems a bit confused. Perhaps I should leave you alone so you can spend some time resting this afternoon."
"Don't even think about it," Thranduil said, holding tight to the Elf. "You're mine."
"Yours, am I? Perhaps you were referring to yourself when you were defining love," Elrohir teased, though his smile faltered when the King's eyes darkened. Unsure as to whether or not he wished to discover the meaning behind Thranduil's gaze, he quickly changed the subject. "Enough of this talk," he said, tugging at the King's shirt. "There are far more interesting things we could be doing with our mouths."
"Excellent idea," Thranduil said, drawing his shirt over his head, then moaning as Elrohir began lapping at a stiffened nipple. "If you continue to come up with such brilliant suggestions, perhaps I should make you an advisor."
"I don't think the rest of your council would approve of my ideas," Elrohir winked, pulling down the King's breeches and glancing up with a wink as he knelt down on the grass. "Though, clearly, you would."
Thranduil's eyes closed as the Prince's hot mouth swallowed him whole. Perhaps this was love after all-not simply having Elrohir bringing him to whole new experiences of physical pleasure, but having someone to banter with, to talk with, to hold.
But then his Princeling did something with his tongue that made Thranduil gasp and any further contemplations of love were ceased for the afternoon.
~*~*~*~
Legolas's eyes were distant in reverie, a smile of complete and utter contentment on his face. Elladan chuckled softly as he leaned over the Prince and kissed a silken cheek. The smile widened, but Legolas didn't wake, and Elladan carefully slipped out of the bed. Quietly pulling on his clothes, he tiptoed out into the hall and went in search of his brother. Legolas would be resting for quite some time, and Elrohir was sure to be bored and in need of entertainment while on guard duty.. Fortunately, he was just the Elf to provide it.
Reaching the outside of the castle, he approached the first guard he found and asked which post his twin was assigned to.
"Elrohir?" the guard frowned. "He's not assigned to any post. The King excused him from his duties while you were in Mirkwood."
Elladan was quiet for a moment, not knowing what to say. Considering they'd never had a single secret between them, he was staggered by his brother's deception. But this was Elrohir-his twin. Knowing his twin the way he did, there had to be an excellent reason for why he'd had to lie. He'd simply have to seek out Elrohir and ask. And then think up some way to torment his brother for lying to him in the first place.
"Do you know where I might be able to find him?"
"I believe Elrohir was seen heading that way," the guard said, pointing towards the east.
"Thank you," Elladan nodded and headed off in that direction. He quickly realized just how vague the guard was being when he found himself facing a large expanse of woods. Fortunately, he was searching for Elrohir, and he could always rely on their bond to guide him. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on Elrohir's presence and immediately began walking towards the sensation that was his brother.
As he neared the rumblings of a waterfall, he realized just what it was about his brother he was sensing, and he stifled a laugh. So that's why Elrohir had been so secretive-he was hiding a lover! The silly fool-what was he worried about? Anyone who could make Elrohir happy would be welcomed by Elladan.
Deciding to catch a glimpse of the Elf who had won his brother's heart, at least for the time being, Elladan softly approached the clearing around the waterfall. Sounds of lovemaking reached his ears and when he was close enough, he ducked behind a tree to peer at the couple. His eyes widening, he was momentarily stunned by the beauty that was Elrohir.
Is this what Legolas saw when they were making love? he had to wonder as he watched Elrohir writhing on top of the other Elf, his head thrown back in ecstasy. His hair flowed around him in raven-black waves, his pale skin slightly flushed with his exertions, his lips swollen from kissing-Elladan was surprised he'd never noticed how attractive his brother was before. He'd always just been Elrohir-his twin. Elladan had only known Elrohir's inner beauty, but now, seeing his outer beauty, he had to wonder why it was Elrohir had spent so much of his life alone. He could have had any Elf he desired, but then, perhaps he'd just been waiting for the right one.
Hopefully, the Elf providing his brother with such pleasure was that one. Nothing would make him happier than knowing his brother was as deeply in love with another Elf as he was with Legolas. If that was true, then perhaps Elladan wouldn't have to worry about him as much as he did, and he would feel better about leaving him alone when he went off with Legolas.
Just then, Elrohir laughed as the Elf rolled him over so he was on top, his brother's face obscured by a mass of white-gold hair. Elladan took a moment to admire the form of the Elf moving above his twin-he would have been dead not to notice a body that was almost perfect in its splendor. His brother was certainly a lucky Elf-not quite so lucky as he was with Legolas, but very close.
Elrohir lifted his head to capture the lips of his lover, burying his hands in the golden mane. As the hair was lifted, Elladan was able to see just who it was that his brother was kissing, and the revelation made his blood run cold.
It couldn't be, he thought, slowly backing up into the woods. Never-not Elrohir, not with him, not after everything that had happened, after the grief he had caused their family. He just couldn't believe it. It simply wasn't possible. There must be some trickery involved-that was the only explanation. Thranduil must have done something to coerce him, to trap Elrohir into his bed. Elrohir would never have gone there willingly.
After he had nearly tripped over a fallen branch, Elladan paused, leaning against a tree. This was all his fault-if he hadn't abandoned Elrohir in Mirkwood for the summer, this never would have happened. But since it had, it was up to Elladan to make up for it. He would see to it his brother would never have to suffer another night with that monster again.
~*~*~*~
Smiling smugly to himself, Thranduil walked down the hall to his rooms. He couldn't recall the last time he had felt so relaxed-he should spend an afternoon away from everything with his Princeling more often. It was just what he needed to calm his mind to he could settle down and concentrate on the work ahead of him.
As he reached for the door to his room, it was only the instincts honed through centuries as a warrior that saved his life in that moment. He ducked at the same instant as a blade buried itself in the wood to his door. Whirling around, he was pinned to the wall by an arm against his throat and a pair of blazing blue-violet eyes.
"Stay away from my brother," the Elf growled, his voice drowning in fury.
Thranduil's gaze instantly narrowed, hints of frost spreading across the blue irises. "Be careful, young Prince. You are playing a dangerous game here, and I don't think you're aware of the rules."
"I know the ones that are important-protecting my family being the first and foremost in my mind. I don't know what you did to him, how you seduced him into your bed, but it will not happen again. Stay away from Elrohir, or next time, I will not miss."
Elladan released the King and Thranduil watched as he stormed down the hall, a smile growing on the wintry face. So very alike, and yet so very different. He would have to mention to his Princeling to keep his brother under control, he thought, snatching the knife from his door as he walked inside. He would permit such accidents in judgment once, and only once. After that, it was no longer an accident, and he refused to be held responsible for anything that followed.
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