Title & Chapter Number: An Arrangement of Thorns 28/36
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 thinks; Elladan and Elrohir talk; Elladan and Elrohir bump into Lindir at the stables.
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.
Dawn had not yet broken when he awoke, though outside the birds were already singing their song of morning. Elladan still clung to him, one arm wrapped about his waist, head resting on his chest. Elrohir ran a gentle hand from his brother's neck to the swell of his buttocks, encountered no broken skin or raised welts. He had not delivered anything so severe as what Erestor might have, and he had used the salve on Elladan afterwards. It did not surprise him that his brother had healed in his sleep, and he doubted that there would be any more than a little redness here and there to show for the previous night's activities.
He could not help feeling guilt even as lust stirred within him as he thought of what they had done together. He had not put up much of an argument when Elladan had asked him to step into this new role - he hadn't put up any argument at all, as he recalled. There had been no real discussion of it, merely that softly worded request that had caused him to buckle.
--Make me yours.-- Elladan had whispered, and Elrohir had known that had not been asking to be made love to on his yet neatly made bed. Not when he had been kneeling before his seated form to ask, not when he'd pressed his forehead to Elrohir's knee, slid downward as if to bow to the floor, to touch his smooth brow to Elrohir's booted foot. Elrohir had not let him do that, although he'd felt a twist of firein his loins as Elladan had attempted to show him obeisance. Instead he had pulled Elladan into his arms and kissed him, but it had not been an action of denial. The words he had whispered back had been, --Wait here.-- and he had known by the light dancing in Elladan's eyes that Elladan had understood that his request had been accepted.
Elrohir supposed that discussion had not really been needed. In a way they had been debating this since Erestor had left, though without recourse to words. The request had been in the conformity of Elladan's body, in his delicious malleability under Elrohir's hands. Only the slightest touch was needed to elicit a response from Elladan, the merest hint of pressure to move him from one position to the next. It was as if Elladan sought to please and obey even in the absence of orders, had turned his skills toward anticipating Elrohir's desires so that he could grant them in that aching absence. And Elrohir had allowed it. The words, when finally spoken, were only the culmination of a softly subtle seduction, Elrohir's acceptance only the foreordained conclusion to it.
Elrohir still could not rest completely easy with it, however. The erotic thrill had been unlike anything he'd ever experienced, even more intense than what he'd felt during those long and sickly rapturous hours spent in Erestor's chambers. Oh yes, shine of fresh perspiration, trembling of arms held impossibly willingly, snap of leather, moans and cries - it had nearly spiraled him into an unthinking state of desire seeking only release. The image of Elladan gazing up at him, rivulets of cream streaming down his face, was branded in Elrohir's memory.
He knew what it felt like. He knew the shame and the thrill, the trembling in his stomach that was three parts arousal to one part abject humiliation, how the two could twine together in an ecstatic, incomprehensible stew. He knew what it was like to nestle afterwards in the arms of his tormentor, needing that embrace while wanting only to bury his face in the blankets, to be unseen, to disappear. He knew about lying still, feeling the after tremors of orgasm and thinking, --Never again,-- and he knew about going back for more, and more, and more.
It was not something Elrohir would ask for if it came down to that. The beauty of their relationship with Erestor was that it had been passive. All he had needed to do was present himself; he had not needed to ask. He had been able to gather his reasons around him like a cloak to cover his nakedness, and the adrenaline rush had been allowed to go on because of that. Elrohir had been able to quell the shame by telling himself that it was all for Elladan, had told himself anything and everything he'd had to as time had gone on in order to settle the half frightened dismay that accompanied the ecstasy.
Elladan had asked, however, and he had no cloak of reasons with which to hide his true intentions. If there had been any twist of shame, Elrohir had not seen it. If it had been there Elrohir could only assume that to Elladan it was nothing more than an added spice, as desirable in its own way as the anticipated pleasure, and Elrohir could not find it in himself to judge Elladan for that. Not when he had taken his own pleasure buried within Elladan's shuddering body, hands clenched on hips striped with crisscrossed welts that he himself had inflicted.
~*~*~*~
The midday meal was over, and Elrohir heaved a sigh of relief. Melpomaen had put in an appearance, and though he had a perfect right to dine at the high table it was not typical of him. He had said nothing to either he or his brother, had given them a friendly nod as he'd taken his seat toward the end of the table and had thereafter conversed animatedly with one of the human traders. Nothing about his manner had seemed artificial, but then again, nothing had seemed wrong when he'd taken him to the tavern, either.
His presence had made both Elrohir and Elladan uncomfortable, a fact which aggravated Elrohir to no end. Had the elf come simply to demonstrate that he was not intimidated? Had he come to intimidate them? Elrohir was not impressed either way. Melpomaen had become a serious and unpleasant distraction during a time in which he'd planned to concentrate all his attention on his brother. He didn't want to be playing games, especially not for stakes as high as Melpomaen seemed to be willing to play for. Both he and Elladan had relaxed considerably when Melpomaen had finally departed.
"We have to do something about him." Elrohir muttered as he and Elladan finished saddling their horses. It was a lovely day, and neither of them had felt like spending it cooped up indoors. Also, the temptation to return to Elladan's chambers was far too strong; it was best to take themselves beyond temptation's reach.
"There isn't much to be done." Elladan cast him a sharp glance as he vaulted into the saddle. "Unless you do see slitting his throat as an option."
Elrohir heard the sarcasm in his brother's comment, smirked. "No, I don't think that would be a good idea."
They rode on in silence, leaving the city behind them, turning their mounts away from the river, and heading for the more secluded regions of the surrounding forest. The main trails were quickly abandoned in favor of the more secret routes that they had discovered together in earlier years. Those times seemed incredibly distant to Elrohir now, the days when he and Elladan had played border patrol together like a barely remembered dream. He supposed there were still games he and his brother might play in this wilderness that was far enough away to be private while yet close enough to be safe, but these were games they had never imagined as elflings. Or at least, he had not.
"What are you thinking, brother?" Elrohir asked. Elladan's features were set, expression hard and eyes distant.
"I'm sorry, I was still mulling over the Melpomaen problem. Well, maybe not a problem. Still, I resent the way he took the upper hand on us, and I don't take well to intimidation."
"As you said, there's really nothing to be done about it."
"I know. But how I'd like to get my hands on him, if only for a few minutes."
Elrohir shrugged. "C'mon, let's think of other things for a while.
They dismounted, followed the sound of running water to a small stream a little ways to the north of them. The banks here were not bedrock and shale as at the Bruinen, but dark loam, decomposing leaves, and small twigs. Snails might be found here, both large and small, as well as turtles, frogs and toads. They had caught enough of all of those at a younger age, not to mention their fair share of catfish and bullheads. They contemplated the water for a moment, then settled down into the grass and high weeds away from the mud. Elladan grinned.
"Perhaps father is right that time is nothing more than an endless circle. Look Elrohir - here we are once more. Maybe we will explore caves next, or pretend to build a talan in the highest tree like the elves of Lothlorien."
Elrohir laughed, laid back in the grass. "I wouldn't mind building a talan out here, though I'd thought I'd outgrown the urge to have my own club house."
"Our own." Elladan shrugged. "And what is so different, now from then, really? We've come here to be by ourselves, away from others, just as we did as children."
"I guess you're right." Elrohir glanced at the bowing cattails, frowned. The nostalgia of that mixed oddly with the present reality; Elrohir found himself at a loss as to how he should assimilate it. Elladan had no such troubles; he moved over to lie beside his brother, nestled on his side with his head in the crook of Elrohir's shoulder.
"I don't want to…do that. Not here, Elladan. This place is not so secret as we thought it as elflings."
"No, it isn't." Elladan sighed. "But I wasn't thinking of doing --that-- as you put it, either."
For a while they lay together, Elrohir contemplating the sky through a lattice of boughs and green foliage, Elladan gazing into the forest. It was Elladan who broke the silence.
"What did you mean last night? When you said no warnings and no explanations?"
Elrohir blinked, nearly choked. Time overlapped strangely, the candle lit darkness of Elladan's rooms suddenly existed side by side with the peace of the forest. Birds sang, and in the distance of memory leather snapped cleanly against flesh. It was a fair question, he knew, and he also knew that Erestor had never expected them to mindlessly accept whatever he chose to do with them. There had always been the safety of the bed afterwards, the resumption of normality beyond the chamber door unless they had previously agreed to do otherwise. He didn't want to deal with it, but Elrohir was beginning to have a clearer understanding of his responsibility in this. He owed Elladan an answer to his question, even if the asking of it had made him everything suddenly surreal.
"Elrohir?"
"I'm sorry, I was thinking." He gently kissed his brother's hair, took a deep breath. "I didn't mean that I won't tell you what you've done wrong, or that I won't let you know that I'm merely entertaining myself. Only that it's not debatable, that I expect no questioning at the time. If you don't like it, you know how to stop it."
"Mmm." Elladan rubbed his cheek against the leather of Elrohir's shirt. "Alright, then."
Elrohir licked his lips. He had not spoken pompously, but inwardly he cringed at the presumption of his words. Elladan was not disturbed. On the contrary, his brother was nuzzling against him with tender ferocity. It was sensation that was threatening to drive him beyond the bounds of control, and he wrapped his arms about his brother, stilled his movements.
"I know you didn't like having to stop things with Erestor. Please don't feel that with me." He paused, swallowed hard. "It would break my heart to do you real harm, Elladan."
"I know, Elrohir." Elladan said lightly. "I trust you. Do you not trust me?"
"Of course."
"Would you… for me?" He asked, cocking his head back on Elrohir's arm to look into his face. Elrohir caught his breath, felt as if, for a split second, his heart had stopped. Finally he answered.
"Yes, for you."
"You don't really like it, do you? It's a thrill, but you're not really comfortable with it, wouldn't go out of your way for it."
Elrohir squirmed, shifted uneasily on the grass. Elladan propped himself up on one elbow to gaze down into his face. "Well?"
"No, I don't really like it. But I won't ask you for anything that I'm not willing to give. And I think you know well enough that though I may not precisely like it, I don't dislike it, either."
Elladan chuckled. "Just because your body reacts favorably? I'd say that what's going on in your mind is more important than that."
Elrohir blinked, surprised that Elladan would make the distinction. Elladan rolled his eyes. "I always love it when I am once again reminded of the low esteem in which my intellect is held. Do I really come off as being that dumb?"
"No, Elladan. Just… innocent." He winced at the irritated look on his brother's face. "No, I didn't mean it that way. It's just that you always seem to see the sunshine through the clouds, always able to see the better side to things."
"Hmmm, I can think of one elf whom that does not apply to, but we agreed not to talk about him." He raised an eyebrow, settled back against Elrohir. "But as I was saying before, if something makes you feel bad later, even if it feels good at the time… well, I cannot call that `liking' in any way. I don't suppose it really matters, since I'm not that comfortable on the other end of things."
Elrohir's eyes widened. "You did not… not with Erestor!"
"By the Valar, no!" Elladan laughed. "I know you light up like the crystal chandelier at midwinter festival at the thought of seeing Erestor on his knees, but that…" tears of shocked mirth streamed down Elladan's cheeks, "no, I wouldn't want to see him that way. It's just the thought of it… it doesn't appeal to me that much."
"So what does appeal to you, Elladan?" Elrohir asked, idly twirling a strand of his brother's hair.
"Being with you. Not having to think, but only feel. Being taken care of, not having to be so damned important for a while."
"I didn't know we were that important." He made a sour face.
"You know what I mean."
He remembered Melpomaen in the tavern, waving his hand dramatically and proclaiming him a prince of Imladris. "Aye, I suppose I do."
"We should be heading back." Elladan sat up, brushed his hands swiftly through his hair.
"Oh, yes." Elrohir grimaced. "We need to nod our heads wisely while the steward tells us what wine he plans to serve with supper, and then we need to stroll ostentatiously in the garden. Do you ever suspect that everything would continue to roll smoothly along even if we were all to pack up and leave?"
"I've often wondered if they'd notice we were gone." Elladan snickered, reached to pull Elrohir to his feet. "Tonight, then?"
"Tonight."
~*~*~*~
Lindir was in the stables when they returned, unsaddling his own horse and preparing to brush her down. The twins stiffened momentarily, and again Elrohir caught that unsettlingly cold expression on his brother's face. It was both dismaying and reassuring to see Elladan so; on the one hand it did not fit his image of Elladan, while at the same time it was comforting to see that he was more than softness and silent submission.
"Greetings, Lindir." Elrohir swung down from the saddle, greeted the dark haired elf amiably enough. If there was a game afoot he felt confident in playing it, and if there wasn't he saw no reason to give it away.
Lindir offered them a wan smile. "So I am not the only one who thought today would be good for riding."
"Pleasant, not too hot." Elladan joined his brother, allowed the groom to lead their horses away. "But how are you, today, Lindir? Lately you've seemed rather melancholy."
Elrohir was somewhat surprised at Elladan's subtlety, but maintained his casual expression. Lindir shrugged.
"I have been difficult, haven't I?" His cheeks colored. "Let us just say there is someone who left with the Lothlorien party whose return I both look forward to and dread."
Elladan raised an eyebrow, but Lindir only smiled, looked down at his feet. "It doesn't really matter." He said, shrugged his shoulders.
"We have fallen out of touch, Lindir." Elrohir commented teasingly. "I knew not that you had a lover."
The elf's cheeks colored even more brightly, and for a moment he looked like an awkward elfling though he was older than they. "Oh, he is not mine."
They were distracted from their conversation a moment later when one of the house servants hurried in, holding her skirt up from the dirt. "Lord Elladan, Lord Elrohir! We have been looking for you! The steward needs to speak to you as soon as possible; we're to have more guests and he needs your approval on the arrangements."
Elladan rolled his eyes before turning to the maid. "We'll be right there, thank you for informing us." He glanced back at Lindir. "Duty calls. Enjoy your day, Lindir. I think it's a fairly sure thing that Elrohir and I won't."
This time Lindir's smile was more genuine. "Oh, I'm sure you'll manage." He turned, led his horse away laughing softly. Elladan and Elrohir exchanged worried glances before heading back to the house.
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