Title & Chapter Number: An Arrangement of Thorns 3/36
Author(s): - Author's Index
Fandom: Middle Earth
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I do not own these settings or characters, and am making no profit from the writing and sharing of this story.
Warnings: BDSM, twincest, angst
Betas: None
Cast: Erestor/Elladan/Elrohir
Timeline: TA AU
Spoilers: None
Summary: Elladan and Elrohir go fishing. Erestor makes a suggestion.
Notes: This was an idea that struck me a while back when I was tossing around ideas on what to do when I'd finished with Glorfie and Erestor. Seems I haven't quite gotten Erestor out of my system. This is NOT the same Erestor as the one I wrote in my previous series.
By Ithil's light all had taken on hues of blue and silver from the water to the bedrock shore, to the still trees further up the embankment, to Elrohir's profile as he bent his head over the tangled fishing line. Silver fingers worked the snarled line adroitly, and Elladan found himself watching those fingers with more interest than he could readily explain, or perhaps with more interest than he cared to explain.
Elrohir had asked him nothing. He had never kept anything from his brother before, and he felt obscurely guilty as he flicked quick glances at him while watching his own line. He actually used his own fairly regularly, and it had been neatly wound and ready for use. The hand holding the slender rod was not still, however, and he did not expect this fishing trip to be particularly fruitful. He was wound as tightly as his line had been, quivering in guilty anticipation that communicated itself through rod and line to whatever creatures might be considering his bait. The thought made him uneasy.
"Elrohir." He broke the tense silence, took his courage in both hands. "I know what you want to know about."
"Mmm?" Elrohir asked. His hands grew still as he turned his head to face his brother. Ithil shown behind and above him, turning him into a black silhouette. Elladan licked his lips.
"About Erestor?"
"I have to admit that I'm curious." A brief pause. "You knew I was there."
"No, Erestor did. He told me later."
"You and he are... lovers?" Elrohir seemed uncertain in his choice of wording, and Elladan found himself equally uncertain as to how to answer. Finally he chose the easiest, least complicated path.
"Aye."
"And this is why you wanted your own room." He spoke musingly. "Why didn't you tell me, Elladan?"
Elladan winced at the faint tone of reproachful hurt in his brother's voice. "I did not know if you would understand. It is not a... typical relationship."
"I gathered that." His gaze cut to the river. "What is it like?"
Elladan's mouth felt dry, tasted like wool. He could not describe what he had with Erestor to himself let alone to his brother.
"He could show you." The words fell from his lips in awkward chunks. "He says you are beautiful."
Elrohir looked back at him, and Elladan could imagine his twin raising an eyebrow in sardonic amusement. "I should think so, considering."
"We are not the same person, Elrohir." The words came out more vehemently than Elladan had intended, and for a moment silence hung between them.
"I'm sorry, brother." Elladan whispered. Elrohir set aside the fishing line and scooted closer to him, settled a comforting arm around his shoulders.
"I understand what you mean. But I'm not sure what you're asking of me."
Elladan sighed, bowed his head. It was what Erestor was asking, not he, and though he had experience in seduction he had never thought to attempt it on his brother. Words failed as he leaned into Elrohir's warmth. When at last he spoke, the words that came forth were not the ones he had thought of earlier, had practiced until he was certain they would slide off his tongue as smoothly as melted butter.
"Elrohir, it's only me he's looking at when I'm with him. Only me. Not Elladan-and-Elrohir. Everything else vanishes. It's like," he struggled to express himself, "it's like being the only thing of importance. All of his attention is - on - me."
He sat upright, ran a distracted hand through his hair making a mess of his braids. "It's not that I feel ignored or neglected, or anything like that. But I love it when he looks at me that way, not even my other lovers ever looked at me like that. Like he wants to keep me forever."
"But he thinks I'm beautiful." Elrohir said softly, and Elladan nodded, eyes skipping away from Elrohir's face.
"I like the idea and I don't."
"Mmm." His brother murmured noncommittally. Elladan continued as if his brother had said nothing.
"I love being the only one, but sometimes it's frightening, too. And I wish I had you to cling to. I wish I'd told you from the beginning."
"I wish you had, too." Elrohir stroked Elladan's shoulder. "Does he love you? Truly?"
"Aye." Elladan said. His eyes did not meet Elrohir's as he spoke.
"I see." He bowed his head, considering. "What do you want?"
Elladan said nothing, and Elrohir could easily read the confusion of emotions in his brother's face. Sighing, Elrohir tried again. "What does this entail?"
"I don't know." He shrugged. "Just that it's never anything you don't want, never more than you can handle."
"Alright. Think about this, and if it's what you want..."
Elladan cut him off. "I do."
"Alright."
"Tomorrow night." He strove to inflect his voice with sureness, firmness and almost succeeded. Elrohir considered him for a moment, eyes narrowed, before answering.
"Tomorrow night."
~*~*~*~
He lay beside Erestor, felt the anchoring weight of the elder elf's arm wrapped protectively about his waist. He had been surprised that Erestor had waited for him, but had been glad of it nonetheless. It was rare for him to come to Elladan's rooms, and it was the first time that he'd made love to him in Elladan's bed.
He had not asked for the details of his outing with Elrohir. When he had tried to talk about it, Erestor had hushed him with soft words and gentle touches, told him that there would be time for that on the morrow. He made love to him slowly and sensually, almost as he had on the night he had taken Elladan for the first time.
There were no mithril bars hidden away in the posts of Elladan's bed, and Erestor had lightly brushed away his offer of the scarves that lay in his own bottom drawer. They had joined together without benefit of bonds or blindfolds, moved against each other in slow, surging waves, surface current, undertow and drowning swimmer all in one. Elladan had reached his climax in silently screaming ecstasy, teeth drawing blood from his lover's shoulder, and as always he'd felt a sense of delirious freedom that nearly rose above the glory of completion. Beneath Erestor's weight it did not matter that he was the eldest son of Elrond Peredhil, did not matter that he was joint heir to Imladris, did not matter that soon enough he would be taking his place as a leader of elves. With Erestor he was no different from any other; it was not in what he was given that he gloried, but in what was taken away.
Even afterwards Erestor had not wanted to talk about his discussion with Elrohir, and Elladan smiled sleepily into the darkness as he thought of that. It didn't matter how matters had gone with Elrohir. That was what Erestor had silently told him, that it did not matter, that it was not important to them.
~ Next Chapter ~
~ Previous Chapter ~
~ Library Main ~
~ Author Index ~ Character Index ~ Title Index ~
~ Hall Of Fire ~ Gallery ~
~ Links ~ Shops ~ Map ~ News ~ Rules ~ Lists ~ ~
This page is in no way affiliated with New Line Cinema or Tolkien Enterprises, and no profit is being made.
The information contained herein is NOT to be used to spam or in any other way harrass its members. Be advised that abuse of this site will not be tolerated, and the appropriate legal action will be taken.
Hall-Of-Fire.Com v.4.0, Copyright © 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009 by Cristine Cook-Fireheart. All rights reserved. This web site may not be reproduced in any form, except as occurs in normal browser caching, without express written permission from the author.
Website by Infinite Connections Design.
