Title & Chapter Number: An Arrangement of Thorns 18/36
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: Erestor and Elrohir snuggle up, drink excessively, and talk.
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.
He had not insisted upon spending an entire week of nights cramped in his narrow bed. The point had been made; there was no need to belabor it. Also, having Erestor in the room that had been his and Elladan's since childhood had not felt right. Though the span of years he had lived was short compared to most of the elves of his father's household, that room represented his known eternity. For most of the years of it, Erestor had been an alternate father figure, representative of authority, instructor, and guide. He seemed too large for that room in a way that Elrohir could not quite put his finger on, out of place or perhaps misplaced. Erestor's bed was better suited to the activities that took place in it than Elrohir's, and he found that he could make a place for himself there much more easily than he could place Erestor amidst his accumulation of childhood memories.
After the first day he'd had no further difficulties with their days spent in the office, with or without Elrond's company. Though Elrohir had not consciously thought about it at the time, he saw that he'd been avoiding his father since the affair with Erestor and Elladan had begun as if the elder elf might pick the guilt from his thoughts as quickly and with as much distaste as he might pick a fly from a bowl of soup. It had seemed to him that his father had often looked at him strangely, seemed to be trying to look through him, to see the carefully hidden secret Elrohir had no intention of revealing. In retrospect it was obvious to him that his own behavior was doubtless the cause of this. He had never hidden from Elrond before, never attempted to sneak behind his back, passively lie, avoid his company. Of course he would have his suspicions.
-Thank you, Erestor.- He thought wryly. -You've brought so much novelty to my heretofore comfortably normal existence.-
The thought held more chagrined humor than real sting. He understood the advisor better than he had initially; it seemed that with the healing of his flesh had come a clearing of his mind. Elrohir had not wanted to believe that Erestor could truly have feelings for Elladan, had wanted to insist to himself that the activities that took place in the bed chamber denied love and affection. That had been his error, the reason he had been manipulated so well and easily. Now he saw the truth in Erestor and Elladan's strange relationship, saw that for all his passivity and submissiveness Elladan held the largest degree of power because he held Erestor's heart. Knowing this granted Elrohir power too.
"What are you thinking, melme?" Erestor asked. They were both seated on the bed, both half drunk on the wine Erestor had brought for their last night before Elladan's return.
"This and that." He made no comment on Erestor's use of that particular endearment; "melme" had become a semi sarcastic term tossed back and forth between them equally and with little rancor. It went oddly with the affection Elrohir had begun to hold Erestor in, but it still managed to fit. "About Elladan. You.." He waved his wine glass in an expressive circle. "Us."
"Mmm." Erestor said. Shrugged.
"Tell me…" Elrohir smiled lazily as he tossed back the last of his wine, poured himself more. "What is it between you two?"
Erestor sighed. "Haven't we covered this before?"
"No, no. I mean the sex." He snickered, and Erestor grinned.
"You are drunk, little one."
"Not that drunk. C'mon, tell me."
Erestor raised an eyebrow and offered him a look of mock effrontery. "Do you think my skills are that poor? Melme?"
Elrohir waved a dismissive hand. "Not that. I mean the whips and chains and clamps and all the exciting odd and ends you seem to have an endless supply of. Where do you get that stuff, anyway?"
"Oh, here and there."
Elrohir considered, decided the matter wasn't worth pursuing. "Alright, then. Still, how is it for you, what is it? I've never really understood."
"Really?" Erestor said. "I think you do, at least a little."
"No, no, you're not going to turn this one on me. Talk."
He set his glass aside, leant back in the pillows. He was more than a little drunk himself. The wine had turned him philosophical, loquacious. He considered Elrohir's question carefully before answering.
"Oh, it's as if he gives himself to me anew every night." A gentle smile played about his lips. "Trust, belief… It continually amazes me that he allows even me to treat him so. Yet, he does, and he has let me make him transparent, nothing hidden from me."
Elrohir nodded, quietly entranced. "And what about me?"
"Oh, you." Erestor laughed. "Definitely it's the sport."
"Sport?" Elrohir said
"Mmm, you give me a challenge. You'll play, but as you've said it's not for me. I'm never really sure who's getting what from whom." He ruffled Elrohir's hair playfully. "I could fall in love with you if I let myself. But that's… inadvisable."
"I would think so." He shrugged. "I trust you, too, you know. At least in the specifics if not the broader points."
Erestor snickered. "My, but haven't we come a long way." There was a tinge of bitterness in his words, and Elrohir repositioned himself to rest his head on the advisor's shoulder. He turned his head to press a kiss to Erestor's throat before snuggling against him.
"What about Elladan?"
"What about you?" Erestor arched an eyebrow. "You're willing enough, at least in the specifics you trust me in."
Elrohir shifted against him, sipped from his glass. "I don't think Elladan's reasons are the same as mine."
"No, I don't either. But let me guess, and you tell me if I'm right or wrong." He wrapped an arm around the younger elf's waist and pulled him close. His words drifted to Elrohir's ears in a soft gust of sweet wine scented air. "You love and hate the vulnerability. It excites you and frightens you because, for a little while afterwards, you want to trust further than you think wise. It's an uncomfortable ecstasy, and you think that if you keep playing with it you'll eventually figure out… something."
"Something." Elrohir echoed.
"Am I right?"
"Maybe I don't want to be as transparent as Elladan."
"Maybe he's not wholly transparent, at least to others."
"You have a point." Elrohir smiled, and this time it was his turn to sound bitter. "I wouldn't know half of what I do if you hadn't given away the game."
"It's not a game, Elrohir. Never has been."
"And I don't know half of what I think I do." He chuckled mirthlessly. "Isn't that the next line?"
"Actually, you don't. But that doesn't matter."
Silence hung between them for a while, an oddly comfortable silence. Elrohir polished off his wine, and Erestor companionably poured him a fresh glass.
"Don't think badly of him." Erestor finally said. Elrohir's eyes reflected hurt as he looked up at him.
"What am I supposed to think? Transparency and manipulation don't often go hand in hand."
"Then be angry with me. You've done a fine job until now of making excuses for Elladan so I could be the only responsible party. And besides, that isn't far wrong." Erestor stroked Elrohir's cheek. "Has it not occurred to you that he might have been too afraid to go about this in any other way?"
"Elladan? Afraid?"
Erestor sighed impatiently. "Yes, Elladan afraid. Wouldn't you be afraid if you held desires that you thought might drive him away from you forever?"
"I suppose." His lips formed a thin line. "It was so good of you to bring all this to the surface, Erestor. You're so… self sacrificing and generous in your intentions."
"You don't know the half of it." Erestor said darkly. Elrohir glanced at him sharply, but the elder elf refused to elaborate.
"I'm jealous." Elrohir murmured into his glass. Erestor expression softened with amusement.
"I'm flattered."
"Don't be. I'm jealous of you, not Elladan." He considered his words carefully, swirled the contents of his glass. Erestor reached to steady his hand before he could splash the wine on the counterpane. "He is such a contradiction… I never saw that before. I don't know if I want to kiss you or kill you."
"Kissing is preferable. At least in my opinion." He followed the words with action, turning Elrohir's face to taste his lips. The contact was warm and sweet in apparent denial of the low key argument that characterized their conversations. Elrohir sighed, rested his head against Erestor's chest when the kiss broke.
"I wish he was transparent to me."
"I could give you that."
"The way you gave me to him?" Cynicism colored Elrohir's words, and Erestor winced.
"Something like that." He rubbed Elrohir's shoulder gently. "Would you have, otherwise?"
"No. That doesn't make it right." Elrohir sipped from his glass, wiped his chin with his hand as a small rivulet spilled from his lips. "Will you bother to tell him what you're doing? Or is this the next phase in the plan, something you and he have already decided upon?"
"He wants what you want, Elrohir." Again there was that strange note in Erestor's voice, both melancholy and mysterious. "You two are not so different in spite of your efforts to deny the sameness."
Elrohir rolled his eyes. "This, after all these weeks of telling us how wonderfully unique we are. I thought you were supporting our individuality. Among other things."
"Do you feel in need of a little support?" Erestor asked archly, and Elrohir chuckled.
"After all you've had to drink? I don't feel like being supported until lunch tomorrow."
"I'll take that as a compliment on my stamina."
"You should take it as stunned awe at your alcohol tolerance." He giggled into his wine glass. "So, transparent Elladan. And I suppose you've got plans for me, too?"
"Now that would be telling. Tomorrow, when Elladan is here, we'll play."
"And what do you get in return?"
"Satisfaction."
Elrohir met his eyes unsteadily. "That sounds menacing."
"It's not. At least not much."
"Maybe I have plans, too."
"I've rather suspected that you have, melme." The word sounded less sarcastic than usual, more affectionate. He kissed the top of Elrohir's head. "I trust you in the broad points as well as the specific ones."
"Good." Elrohir whispered. He began to say something else, but the words faded away unheard. Erestor plucked the glass from the young elf's hand, smiled as he settled him back among the pillows and covered him with sheets and counterpane.
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