Title & Chapter Number: An Arrangement of Thorns 16/36
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: Elrohir goes back to work. Erestor pays him a bedtime visit. Conversation ensues.
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.
It felt strange to be dressed. He had spent the better part of two days nude, and the process of dressing had felt oddly obscene, like a strip tease in reverse. It had not helped that Erestor had watched, that he'd been alone with him. Elladan had already been gone, off to make his excuses to Glorfindel and reap the consequences of their unannounced vacation. He had been allowed to sleep in a little later since Erestor was the only one whom he'd have to answer to this day, at least until evening when his father would undoubtedly have a talk with both him and his brother.
It occurred to him that he'd rarely seen Erestor completely nude. Erestor divested himself of as little clothing as necessary most of the time, his touch was leather, silk, or velvet. Finger tips and pounding heat were what he knew of Erestor save for that night, the one he didn't think about too carefully, this past weekend. That night he had lain against Erestor, felt flesh on flesh, drifted into sleep with his arms locked around the chief advisor's body. It was confusing now, to want his embrace while also wanting to shove him violently away.
They walked the corridors together, and Erestor was the same here as in the bedchamber, robed silent menace and disconcerting tenderness. He had not had to deal with gentle, affectionate Erestor before, and rather wished that he'd never had to. Erestor's cold distance, amusement, and even his controlled, artistic brutality were things Elrohir could understand. They were things that frightened him both for himself and his brother, he had to admit, but they were known quantities. It was game, and one that Elrohir thought he could have played against the elder elf if that had been all there was to work with. Erestor showing tenderness, feeling, perhaps even love… that was something entirely different. A new angle.
The office was an alien landscape though he had spent more hours within it than he could begin to count. Again it struck him that Erestor was the focal point, that which was real while all else merely faded, emerged, and faded again around him. Erestor was constant in his unvarying attire of somber, decorous robes, official or otherwise. Even the black leather gloves were not a secret skin worn only for him and Elladan; they were Erestor's riding gloves, inconspicuously shocking, both public and intimately private.
"'Tis a shame we're starting in the middle of the day. There's so much I have to cover with you before going to dance attendance at another one of your grandmother's political fiasco tea parties."
Elrohir nodded dumbly. Erestor looked frustrated and somewhat harried as he swiftly sorted through the papers stacked on his desk. He spoke in the half distracted tone he'd used in the classroom when he was called away from his own pursuits to explain something he knew forwards and backwards. Though Elrohir had never been out of Imladris save for visits to Lothlorien in his life, he suddenly found himself fully understanding the meaning of "culture shock."
"First of all, these are matters which you should take to your father to handle." He glanced up at Elrohir, registered the slightly dazed expression on the young elf's face. "Are you alright, melme?"
"I'm fine." Elrohir answered brusquely. Erestor frowned.
"We do have a month, give or take a few days. There is no point in covering this today if you are not going to remember what I tell you."
Elrohir bridled. Erestor, of all people, should know that comprehension and retention were not a problem for him. He met the advisor's eyes squarely, disciplined himself to focus on the matters at hand.
"Continue."
"Very well, then." The smile Erestor gave him was genuine, as was the sparkle of admiration in his exotic sloe eyes. Elrohir found that controlling his wandering thoughts was a simple matter compared to controlling his pleasure at receiving that look.
~*~*~*~
Dinner had been a tense affair. Elrond had clearly been displeased with his sons, and only Elrohir had been present to bear the brunt of it. Glorfindel had inexplicably sent Elladan with the border patrol; he would be gone for the entirety of the week. Judging by the frigid air between the two elf lords, Elrond disagreed strenuously with Glorfindel's decision to allow the oldest twin what he would surely be thinking of as an adventure. Celebrian was unusually quiet; she had always been the more permissive of the two, the one most likely to let small transgressions slide. Elrohir guessed that she had spoken up in their favor over the course of the weekend, and had been overruled. This did not bode well for the coming days, Elrohir knew. His father could be quick tempered, but his mother had a way of lying in wait. He wisely concealed his smile as he considered the possible outcomes of this parental disagreement.
He'd made his apologies in Elrond's study, listened to the ensuing lecture and threats of privileges temporarily denied with less trepidation that he had in the past. Intimate contact with Erestor had rendered such things as denial of privileges small and trifling. There was nothing quite like a sound whipping, Elrohir reflected, to make restriction to the house and immediate yard seem like a minor inconvenience. He had done his best to sound properly contrite, and his father had seemed satisfied when he'd allowed him to leave.
It would be Elladan's turn when he got back from patrol, and at least Elladan deserved the lecture and punishment. He felt a brief sense of satisfaction as he thought of that, but it quickly faded to morose resignation. Elladan had known what he was getting into, and would do anything for his wonderful Erestor. He'd cheerfully apologize, take his punishment, and then do it all again the very next week if Erestor asked it of him. And drag his twin along for the ride.
He flopped gracelessly onto his bed and stared up at the ceiling. The room felt like someone else's, which shouldn't have seemed odd to him considering he'd spent virtually every night for the past month in Erestor's chambers. He visited this room to change the sheets that did not require changing, and to pick up clean clothes and drop off dirty in the laundry hamper. He wondered if it would feel strange, sleeping here alone, while Elladan was gone.
Erestor had said nothing to him after learning of Elladan's departure. Elrohir's face flushed in dull humiliation as he thought of the terms of endearment that had flowed so easily from the advisor's honeyed tongue, and the way he had glowed under that attention, clung to him, behaved with all the dignity of an affectionate puppy. Worse - like a kicked puppy cuddling hopefully against its fickle master.
The pain from the beating had been completely gone by morning. Elrohir was glad of that; it had not been nearly so awful as the whippings he'd seen Elladan receive, but he still had not wanted the reminder through out his day. He'd thought of that often when watching Elladan in the normal routine of things, thought of how his brother must feel the abrasion of clothing over welts, cuts, broken skin. He'd wondered if Elladan reveled in that, if it was to him like a lover's token worn in the flesh rather than on it. Elrohir might have felt something like that, briefly, flaring and fading as quickly as a shooting star. Now, outside of Erestor's chambers, he did not want to wear the advisor's tokens, did not want to feel a rush of affection toward the one who had left him alone.
He glanced up when the door opened, a frown furrowing his brow. Even his father knocked before entering; only Elladan would walk in unannounced. The frown hardened into a glare as Erestor stepped into the room.
"Is there something you need?" He asked pointedly, not rising from the bed. Erestor shrugged eloquently.
"You. I was wondering what was keeping you."
Elrohir willed himself to ignore the traitorous beating of his heart. "I assumed my presence was not required in Elladan's absence. You said nothing."
"I did not think I needed to, melme."
"Don't call me that." He felt a sense of déjà vu as the words passed his lips, but this time they were not in sight of his father's office, not in the safety of the garden gazebo. A small smile played about Erestor's lips.
"Why not? You did not mind yesterday. Or the night before."
He chose to ignore the latter comments, maintained his temper and control. "It's what you call Elladan."
"And I cannot love you, too?"
"You do not." His face was brick red; he turned his gaze to the ceiling. Erestor crossed the room and sat down on the bed beside him.
"Not as I love Elladan, no. But must there be only one kind of love?"
"I am not interested in playing games. This… this is not politics or diplomacy." His expression was fierce when he met Erestor's eyes once more, and he sat upright, keenly aware of the defenselessness of his supine pose. "This is personal. What do you want? What is this about?" He hissed.
"I love your brother, and your brother loves you."
Elrohir closed his eyes, thought of a day spent in Elladan's forbidden embrace. "So, I am a gift to your lover." He said dully. Erestor sighed.
"I would do anything for Elladan, though I know you still doubt me. Anything at all. But I could not share my bed with one whom I had no feelings for, Elrohir."
"Share your bed!" Elrohir barked laughter. "Damn you, you manipulative, scheming…" His lips moved soundlessly as he searched for words, and he angrily swiped tears of frustration, betrayal, and humiliation from his eyes. Erestor reached for him, and he shoved him back.
"No!" He snickered. "Or `Thorn,' if you prefer."
"This is your room, Elrohir. Not mine."
"So glad that you make the distinction." His tears flowed faster, and he clenched his eyes shut. "Did you and Elladan decide this together? Did he tell you he wanted me, and you magnanimously complied? Has it all been smoke and mirrors since the night Elladan talked to me at the river?"
"No, Elrohir." Erestor said, reaching to touch Elrohir's sun kissed brown hair. "I only saw what Elladan would not say, and sought to give it to him."
"It." Elrohir said sardonically. "Do you think that maybe you've taken a bit too much upon yourself?"
"Sometimes." It was Erestor's turn to look away. "It's too late, now."
"No, it isn't. I can walk away."
"But will you?"
He was silent for a long moment, eyes riveted to his lap. Of course he would not. Not when the idea of spending this night alone made him want to begin crying all over again, not when Elladan was the most important person in his life.
"How do you love me, then?"
"I don't know, little one. Can you explain how you love your brother?"
"More than I should." He cast Erestor a scathing glance. "Thanks to you."
"I did not create the feelings in your heart."
"No, but you could have left them alone." He stared down at his hands. "I trusted you, Erestor. You were my teacher, someone I looked up to. Someone whom I respected and believed would never hurt me. Someone I thought I could turn to if I ever needed someone. I trusted Elladan."
"I will always be here for you, Elrohir. As will Elladan." His voice was thick, husky, and Elrohir glanced up sharply. The advisor's dark eyes were luminescent with unshed tears, and Elrohir stared, amazed. Elrohir hesitantly touched his cheek.
"You would cry because of me?"
The advisor's jaw clenched. Tears or no, the look he cast upon Elrohir was filled with pride. "Perhaps the actions I have committed are… unethical. I may have underestimated you, thought you could be moved along easily without ever seeing beneath the surface. I've made errors. That does not mean that my feelings are not true, that I have ever been false in emotion or intentions toward either Elladan or you."
"You're trying to tell me I should trust you. In spite of this."
Erestor shrugged, refused to answer. "Will you come back with me?"
"No." Elrohir said softly. "But you can stay."
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