Title & Chapter Number: An Arrangement of Thorns 24/36
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's first day working solo. Elrohir and Elladan talk, and sex acts ensue.
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 sitting at Erestor's desk, to look across the room and see Erestor's secretary sitting at his. Not only did it feel strange, it also felt foolish. Melpomaen had been Erestor's secretary for the past fifty years, and could probably handle most of the details of the chief advisor's job as well as Erestor himself did. Three times he'd had to ask for help, and Melpomaen had given his assistance without untoward comment, but Elrohir thought he'd seen a certain sardonic amusement in the secretary's dark eyes.
Elrohir would have infinitely preferred to have remained at his own desk as Melpomaen's secretary. Both his father and Erestor, however, had felt that he should have an opportunity to try his skills, and though he would have argued with Erestor he would not debate the issue with his father. He felt like a fraud and an interloper seated in the leather upholstered chair that was not his, and though his desk had previously been Melpomaen's it felt wrong to be viewing the dark haired elf from this new and unasked for angle. Elrohir had been learning the politics of Imladris for a little less than two years; Melpomaen had begun his training a century ago.
Erestor had not seemed concerned that morning before he'd left. Dawn had not yet broken when he'd awakened. Elrohir had feigned sleep while Erestor had made love to Elladan one final time, though he knew that neither of them were fooled. It had felt peculiar to be present during their lovemaking as neither spectator nor participant, uncomfortable and unsettling. There was sufficient room in the wide bed for them to have danced their lingering intimacies out of his reach, but he and Elladan always fell into reverie curled against each other's bodies, and the two lovers had not seen fit to move. Elrohir had stared into the darkness listening to the soft cries and feeling the gentle movements against him, had strained to hear though the proximity had made such straining unnecessary. He did not think it was the sounds of carnal rapture that he had, in truth, been trying to discern.
Together they'd gone to bathe and dress, and then Elladan had departed for the barracks, leaving Elrohir alone with Erestor. A faint smile had played about Erestor's lips when he'd returned to the bedchamber, found Elrohir sitting upright in bed with the blankets pooled in his lap. If he had been Elladan, Erestor would have told him he looked like a tousled kitten waking from a nap. He was not Elladan, however, and instead of offering pretty words Erestor had sat down on the edge of the mattress, offered him a fond look.
"Thank you, Elrohir."
It had been too early for witty repartee and arguments. Elrohir had merely sat there staring at Erestor, looking bruised in the early half light.
"I'm sorry." He'd finally whispered, and Erestor had glanced away.
"So am I." His expression had been sad, distant. "We live and learn, do we not?"
It had crossed Elrohir's mind to ask if he offered such sage pieces of wisdom during council sessions, but he'd bit back the sarcastic comment. "I suppose we do."
Erestor had opened his arms then, and though there had been no necessity to make any pretences Elrohir had gone to him, slipped his arms about him and hugged him tightly. The dark fabric of Erestor's travel clothes had felt rough against his bare skin, unexpectedly rugged. For a dismayed moment Elrohir had thought he would dampen the shoulder of the adviser's tunic with tears.
"You're going to be alright, Elrohir. You and your brother both. You know what you need to do?"
He'd nodded, still holding on, and in the end it was Erestor who'd had to extricate himself from the embrace.
"And you don't really mind, do you?"
"No." It hadn't been a lie. He was not being asked to seduce Elladan; they had both been seduced quite neatly, quite efficiently already. It was the weaning away of Elladan's heart that was essential now, the filling of the gap that Erestor was making. That would be easy, too, Elrohir knew. It was knowledge both wanted and unwanted, desirable and frightening, the cause of gratitude and ferocious anger.
Erestor had made no mention of Elrohir's ostensible take over of his duties, whether because he had no doubts in that area or because it had not been upper most in his mind Elrohir did not know. Certainly the three of them had been more involved in their own concerns lately than in any of the business of Imladris.
"Melpomaen, I have no idea what to do with this." There was more than a hint of frustration in his voice, and he felt like cringing in his chair as the other elf rose and glided silently over to look at the papers in front of him.
"This," Melpomaen said dryly, tossing him another sardonic glance, "is out of your sphere of involvement. File it for Lord Elrond."
"They're going to want a reply soon." It was a request concerning land and building from the human citizenry; they'd apparently gotten together to work out a plan and make a petition. One of the draw backs to welcoming races besides elves into the haven of Imladris was the increasing population rate of the humans which led inevitably to the need for more housing.
"That doesn't matter." Melpomaen cocked an eyebrow. "Do you have the authority to grant land, call the council to make design plans, and send out work crews? No?"
Elrohir muttered, glanced down at his hands.
"No. So you write them a letter explaining the situation and file this for Elrond. Or more appropriately, you have me write the letter and file the petition for Elrond." He extended his hand and waited patiently, face impassive. Elrohir sighed and gave him the documents.
"Thank you, Melpomaen."
"It's what I'm here for."
Elrohir stared glumly at Melpomaen's silk covered back as he returned to his desk, wishing sincerely that this wasn't what he was there for. A single day had not yet passed, and he found himself wishing that Erestor hadn't left.
~*~*~*~
"I have had an awful day." Elrohir muttered as he paced. "I had no idea how many things Erestor typically takes care of, I hate delegating, and I think Melpomaen hates me."
"Why do you think he hates you?" Elladan asked. He leaned back against the headboard and reached for the plate of pastries on the night stand. "Want one?"
"No, thanks." Elrohir sighed, finally dropped down onto the mattress. "It's just his manner. He very politely and in no way that I could reasonably complain of treats me like the village idiot."
"Well, maybe he has something there."
Elrohir scowled at his brother, who returned the look with a broad grin. "Oh, come now, Elrohir. This was your first day. And also, I think everyone was out of sorts today. I asked Lindir if he'd like to sing tonight after dinner, and you'd swear I'd asked him if he'd like to go to Bree to dance naked at the largest tavern."
Elrohir laughed. "Now that's a sight I wouldn't mind seeing."
"Ah, but I daresay we'll have to make do with only our imaginations on that score. I do wonder what got into him, though. He's usually so even tempered."
"Well, with half the staff riding out to what Erestor calls "Galadriel's Tea Party" I think everyone is feeling odd."
"Do you think Thranduil will show?"
Elrohir snorted. "No way. He'll send someone in his place as he always does. Probably his son since he can't well get away with sending only an official emissary . If father hadn't gone he could have…"
"But father couldn't get away with that unless he wanted to be on mother's bad side for the next season cycle."
"Exactly." Elrohir shook his head. "I think they're all quite mad."
"I might have something to take your mind off of your day." Elladan smiled wickedly, and Elrohir closed his eyes, flopped back on the mattress. He was tired and frustrated, certainly not in the right frame of mind to treat Elladan as he deserved.
"Dear brother, I do not wish to use you as stress relief."
He did not see the frown that briefly marred Elladan's expression, the drawing together of brows and slight downward curve of full lips.
"You don't have to do anything, Elrohir." Elladan scooted down to sit beside his brother's supine body. "Sometimes Erestor…" He bit his lip, let the words abruptly drop.
"Sometimes Erestor what?" Elrohir's eyes flashed open,
"Nothing. Just sometimes he has rough days also."
Elladan bowed his head, pressed his lips gently and then with more fervor to Elrohir's. It was a tender assault, but an assault nonetheless, one meant to drive away thought and reason. His lips moved from lips to chin to jaw line, skated in a perfect trail of delight upward to his brother's sensitive ears, and Elrohir was lost. Whatever Elladan had begun to say about Erestor was also lost, unspoken and temporarily forgotten.
Elrohir did not protest when he was pulled up and back to lie more fully on Elladan's narrower bed. He reached for Elladan, but his hands were batted teasingly away until finally he surrendered, laid back on the coverlet and allowed himself to be undressed, kissed, licked, touched. His brother had said he needn't do anything, and he was as good as his word. Elrohir shivered, trembled under Elladan's touch, writhed and rolled his hips in wordless pleading for release.
He wondered if Elladan would have him as he had so often been had. Elrohir watched, breath coming in ragged gasps as his brother removed a bottle of massage oil from the night stand drawer. He parted his thighs expectantly as Elladan poured a generous amount into his palm, but instead of delving between his rounded cheeks he took Elrohir's cock in his slick grip. Elrohir's eyes rolled back and his lips parted as he thrust upward, moaning thickly as he was milked by a hand that had become velvet vise.
All too soon the delicious sensation ended. His vision returned to focus as Elladan lifted himself, parted his thighs over his brother's body. More oil was poured, and Elrohir stared in lustful shock as Elladan slid slick fingers along his own crevice, held himself open with one hand while stroking oiled finger tips over his small, tight entrance. His eyes never left Elrohir's as he slipped his index finger in tiny, teasing circles, never looked away as he eased that finger in, worked it in and out.
Elrohir gasped, unaware that he had been holding his breath until that moment. Elladan had shifted position, was now genuflecting over Elrohir's body to provide a better view. One finger had been replaced by two, moving more swiftly now, and Elrohir could see from the angle of his brother's hand, the movement of tendons and muscles in hand and wrist, that he was crooking those fingers, searching out his inner sweet spot and stroking it with shameless desire. Elrohir's gaze darted helplessly between Elladan's face and the hand between his legs, to the opening now glistening with clear oil and the two fingers scissoring within it.
The expression on his brother's face was not intentionally seductive, not teasing or blatantly tempting. Elladan's expression reflected only the bliss of what he felt, sensation translated into half closed eyes and parted lips, openly given with no hint of shame. It was that as much as the sight of Elladan touching himself that brought a rush of pure desire through Elrohir's blood, that made his cock quiver in eager expectation. A third finger made its way past the barrier of muscle; Elladan keened softly, jaw tightened, sound ululating from behind even, white teeth as his eyes glazed with passion. It was more than Elrohir could stand. He reached, touched his brother's hips and was immediately rewarded.
Both knees sunk in the mattress at either side of Elrohir's body, and he cried out as Elladan took his weeping member in hand, held it as he settled down upon it. Elladan relaxed, opened for him, took his length inside of him without pause or hesitation, and Elrohir shuddered, nearly screamed with rapture as he was enveloped in that hot, oiled sheathe.
Again he reached for Elladan, and again Elladan knocked his hand away. He rose and fell as easily and gracefully as an ocean wave, lifting and lowering himself with steel muscled thighs. The fingers of his left hand splayed lightly on Elrohir's chest in a small concession to balance while he stroked his own cock with his free hand, pumping swiftly and surely toward completion. Elrohir could only writhe and raise his hips, thrust upward in time with his brother's movements until, with a strangled cry, Elladan found his release. Hot fluid jetted over Elrohir's abdomen; muscles contracted spasmodically around his engorged member. Time stood still, and then Elrohir too was spiraling into blackness broken by sudden flashes of kaleidoscopic light and color.
And even afterwards Elrohir did not have to do anything. He laid back against the pillows, gasping harshly for breath as Elladan vanished into the bath, returned a few moments later with a basin of water and some towels. He had already cleaned himself, and now he set about cleaning Elrohir up as well, head bowed, face concealed by the straight veil of his dark hair. Still trembling with the aftershocks of his orgasm, a dark thought crept into Elrohir's mind. --Erestor trained him well.-- He shook it off quickly, feeling vaguely contaminated by the mere idea.
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