Title & Chapter Number: An Arrangement of Thorns 30/36
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: More sex.
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.
The final verdict leaned closer to story than to sex. A lot of people suggested both, but my sex scenes tend to be too damned long as it is. So, what we've got here is character insight and erotic imagery. Hope that works.
Velvet blackness. Elladan had thought that it would be different with Elrohir, easier, more comfortable. He trusted Elrohir with his life, his heart, his soul. He had known Elrohir since birth, knew everything about him, could ride the waves of his emotions, and could almost read his mind. What possible difference could a blind fold make between them when they had shared the darkness of the womb together, had shared both light and darkness ever since?
It did make a difference. His entire body thrummed with electric tension, his senses were unnecessarily stretched to their outermost limits to maintain that low key, psychic contact that could tell him of feeling and presence but little more. It told him nothing beyond what he already knew - that Elrohir was there, that Elrohir loved him, that Elrohir desired him. It should have been a relief to know those things beyond doubt, but within his darkness that knowledge was like drift wood in a raging river, something that could keep him afloat but that could not quell the storm.
"You're doing very well, Elladan."
Elladan immediately focused on his brother's voice, knew with a warrior's instincts exactly where he was standing, could have turned and taken his hand unerringly. Elrohir was behind and a bit to the side of him in his blind spot, though such positioning was hardly relevant at the moment. He relaxed somewhat, concentrated on breathing slowly and deeply.
"You used to cry when Erestor did this to you. Why don't you cry now?"
He licked his lips, exhaled, inhaled. Spoke. "I trust you, Elrohir."
"You didn't trust Erestor?"
"Yes, but…" He hesitated, bit his lower lip. He could sense Elrohir's frown, felt the mix of enjoyment and irritation.
"But what?"
"I was frightened." A whisper.
"You were frightened." Movement now, to his left and then in front of him. He could feel Elrohir's breath on his face, clenched his eyes shut behind the blindfold. "What were you afraid of?"
"That he would leave me. This way."
"And you think I would not do that to you?" The words came out flat, with no indication of feeling. Elladan reached mentally, felt for the emotions that could not be hidden from him. Love. Desire. Did those things deny the possibility that Elrohir was suggesting? His lower lip quivered.
"I don't know."
"Did he ever bind you and blindfold you?"
"Yes." His voice had taken on a faintly tremulous quality. Again he concentrated on his breathing.
"And do you think he would have left you that way? Do you think I would?"
"No, not like that." There was more surety in his tone this time. He did not believe that either of them would leave him blind, helpless and alone.
"On that you're right. You know you're safe." Elrohir paused, leaned in to kiss him. His fingers brushed across the blindfold. "But you let him do this to you, and you let me do it. Even though you're frightened to be left this way. Or, more to the point, you're afraid of being found this way."
"Yes." He clenched his teeth together, blinked against the sting of tears. He would not cry. No, not this time, not so easily or so quickly.
"Found by one of the maids, or maybe Glorfindel. Or maybe even father. Just how would you explain that, Elladan? What reason would you give for standing here naked and blindfolded with your hands folded behind your back?"
He swallowed hard, tried to formulate a reply.
"Would you say that your owner had ordered you to do it, and that you are obedient to him?"
Elladan tried to bow his head, but Elrohir caught his chin, kept him facing forward. "I don't know that I'd say anything at all." His voice was small, almost that of a lost child.
"Not good enough." A hint of annoyance there, and something else that Elladan could not quite identify. "You'd have to say something. Imagine… Oh, imagine that I am Father. And I want to know, Elladan, what are you doing? What is the meaning of this? I want to know, and I want to know right now!"
Elladan's breath hitched, his cheeks were scarlet beneath the black band of the blindfold. The tears he had willed not to shed were falling, not skating cleanly down but absorbing into blackness. The velvet was no longer soft against his skin but wet and clinging, comfortless. He swallowed repeatedly, struggled to keep his frame from trembling.
"I'm sorry…" He choked out, not knowing what to say but knowing that something was required. "I cannot explain…" The bell on his collar jingled faintly, a small sound that was barely audible over the sound of his breathing. Elrohir's fingers danced across the hollow of his throat, muted the bell. He stepped closer still, kissed Elladan's cheek.
"You are very brave, Elladan, very courageous indeed to be so frightened and to submit anyway. I value the trust you place in me."
Elladan shivered, leaned into his brother's embrace. Hands moved from shoulders to wrists, lips slipped from mouth to the lobe of his ear. Then Elrohir's hand was moving from hands to hip, over and around, teasing lightly over his cock. He gritted his teeth, fought back a desperate moan.
"I know you're afraid, but would you be aroused also, as you are now? If such a thing were to happen?"
Elladan started to shake his head, remembered the bell. "No, Elrohir." He wasn't sure if he was responding to the question or pleading for mercy.
"Well then, this is where you prove it." The hand on his cock was removed, met its partner at the back of Elrohir's neck. "First we'll remove this collar before you get yourself into more trouble."
A wave of nervous excitement washed over him at those words. Apparently Elrohir had not overlooked his lapse, had not chosen to disregard the small jingle that had betrayed his anxiety. He sensed rather than heard footsteps moving away from him, pausing and then returning. Again he felt Elrohir's touch on his sex, but this time there was something else, too, touch of leather and metal, slickness of oil.
"You aren't supposed to be this eager when this goes on, but I think we can manage." Elrohir purred, sliding his oiled hand up and down Elladan's length one final time. "Judging by what I see now, I think you're going to make a liar of yourself."
Elrohir had not teased him to full arousal, but far enough to make the process of slipping the series of connected rings around his cock uncomfortable. They fit, but only barely. The leather strap was fitted around his balls and tightened, though not unbearably.
"This shouldn't be a problem for you if you don't find any of this arousing." Elrohir said softly. "And it's also a favor to you. Imagine if someone were to find you thusly, maybe Glorfindel. You wouldn't need to think of something to say to say to him, now, would you? What you're doing is rather apparent."
Footsteps moving away, at first intentionally audibly and then… silence. Click of the door lock, the faintest breath of a breeze as the door opened and then closed. Another click.
There was no precision or control to Elladan's frantic, empathic reach. It was more of a lunge, a half panicked scrambling for his brother's presence. He felt only the low key hum of connection that he could key into any time, anywhere, regardless of his brother's distance, felt only the rhythmic pulse of love and desire. He knew it might only be a trick, that Elrohir might be no further from him than the chamber door, but he had no way of knowing beyond a doubt. Did love deny the possibility that Elrohir would do such a thing to him? Did desire make it possible?
The blindfold no longer served to mask his tears; beneath it his cheeks were flushed and wet. Elladan forced himself to breathe evenly and deeply, refused to sob like a child. He thought of what Elrohir had said, saw Glorfindel with hellish mental clarity rapping briskly at the door while simultaneously turning the knob. It didn't matter that the door was locked and that Glorfindel was not even in Imladris. Now it was down to words and images, down to his memory playing tricks on him as it so often did in the dark. Was the door locked? Was Elrohir in the room? And what would happen if neither was true, what would happen if Glorfindel were here, and if he were to walk in on him so? What would he, Elladan do? More importantly, what would Glorfindel do?
The heat that had begun to recede at the touch of cold metal returned, coiled low in his belly like a beautiful, poisonous snake. Dismay and desire filled him, confusion and lust mixing in a familiar, shameful blend that tasted indescribably bitter, tantalizingly sweet. The rings around his cock suddenly felt tight, teasingly tight and then uncomfortably tight. He bit back a whimper, again cast frantically about himself for Elrohir, again sensed only --love-desire-love-desire-love-desire.--
He wondered if Elrohir was pleased, if Elrohir was watching, if Elrohir knew how expertly his own thoughts had taken him to the place Elrohir had meant for him to go. Behind velvet darkness he saw a vision of wide blue eyes, alabaster skin and golden hair, saw that vision staring in shock at a vision of his own. Would he stumble backwards from that vision, grace departed, slam the door and run? Would he step forward, rip away the blindfold and leave Elladan blinking, eyes stinging in the sudden light, would his sky blue eyes be full of disgust and incipient questions? Or would he step in to do other things, would he close and lock the door behind him, say nothing so that Elladan would not know he was not with Elrohir until he felt the first touch?
Elladan's heart skipped a beat, resumed at a faster, more frenetic rhythm. Discomfort verged on pain, a hell of unabated urgency stymied by utterly uncompromising, biting steel. Golden hair instead of mahogany brushing over his shoulders, a soft voice whispering in his ear before bending him over --I think you'll agree, Elladan, that it would not be in your best interest to object to this…-- Followed by ecstasy, no safe word and no way out, captured yet somehow still safe.
A sob did pass his lips then, though whether of pain, desire, or humiliation he had no idea. His fingernails bit into the backs of his hands, and when Elrohir's hand settled on his shoulder he nearly screamed.
"You are so easy, Elladan. I like you this way."
"Please, Elrohir…" He whispered, and Elrohir pressed against his back, wrapped an arm about his waist. His hand drifted lower, stroked lightly between the steel rings. Elladan moaned.
"Please what? Please let you continue your fantasy of being ravished by Glorfindel in my absence?" He didn't wait for a response. "I've been too easy on you. Is that what you really want, Elladan? For me to come in here and just take you, no games and no discussion?" His fingers moved back and forth, nails clicking dully against metal. "Just take you any way I wish to, make you do what I want?"
"If that is what you desire…" Elladan's words were ragged, half way between a hoarse whisper and a moan.
"No, none of that." He squeezed, and Elladan tilted his head back on Elrohir's shoulder, gritted his teeth. "I'm not Erestor. No pretty word games that allow you to never have to admit to anything. Tell me if that is what you want."
"Yes, Elrohir, yes." He said, and he was beyond caring that he was sobbing, beyond caring that he had lost his last shred of dignity, beyond even guessing if Elrohir was pleased as his hands were guided away from his back, as he was bent forward, as he gripped his ankles.
~*~*~*~
He lay nestled against Elrohir's side, erect member pressed against Elrohir's hip. He had not thought he would be able to reach climax with that vicious device binding him, and he had been right. It had taken close to an hour after Elrohir had finished with him for his arousal to subside sufficiently for its removal, and that abatement had had more to do with the steady ache and plain physical exhaustion than with loss of interest. Now that desire had returned, and he suspected that Elrohir had no intention of relieving it.
"Elrohir?" He asked softly. His brother shifted, pressed his lips to Elladan's hair.
"Hmm?"
"Would you ever really leave me alone?" The question came out sounding hesitant and small. Elrohir pulled him closer, ignored the slide of hard flesh against him and the corresponding hiss.
"I would never put you in such a position that you might be found by anyone else, Elladan. Never."
It was not quite the same as giving him a no, and Elladan knew it. He considered pressing the point, didn't. The space that existed in the aftermath of their joining was always like this, always colored in the twilight tones that lay between what they had done and who they were beyond this door. Warm, loving, yet not entirely just Elladan-and-Elrohir yet, still more master and slave than lovers, brothers. Tilting back toward that, but not quite there.
"Can we make love?" That he had made it a question rather than simply initiating physical passion reflected those twilight colors, as did Elrohir's uneasy stiffening as he made his reply.
"No, Elladan. Your collar."
He sighed, settled his head against Elrohir's shoulder. "I'm sorry."
"Maybe… again?"
Elladan understood what he was suggesting, and he also understood that Elrohir was wavering. Erestor wouldn't have wavered. Erestor would have kissed and cuddled him, held him close and whispered endearments, would have released the reins enough to allow conversation to go where it would and enough for the shift of power to begin tilting back. He would not, however, have changed his mind about anything that had gone before, would not have even considered letting both Elladan and himself off the hook. Erestor had had more practice.
"Whatever you want, Elrohir."
"Alright, then." He turned Elladan onto his back, took his hand and guided it to his cock. "Talk to me. Tell me about how it started. And touch yourself."
"How it started?" He asked hesitantly. His fingers circled his cock, squeezed gently, slid more slowly than he actually liked, slow to please Elrohir.
"Not for you and Erestor, or you and me. Just how it started for you. When you first began to want me to be more to you than a brother." He gently stroked Elladan's brow, gazed into his eyes. "Erestor said you wanted me before you wanted him, that he saw it in your eyes."
"I… I don't know, Elrohir…" He closed his eyes, felt their twin pulses --heat-shame-love-desire.--
"How did you feel?"
Elladan shivered, remembered. It had been a blur of confusion and denial, of waking from dreams that had left him shaking, left him in a condition not so different from that which he was currently in. --Heat-shame-love-desire,-- and utterly grateful that his brother could not read him the way he could read Elrohir. Now those dreams seemed almost innocent, sweet dreams of lying under or over Elrohir, of kissing him, of making love in the gardens or by the river's falls. Those dreams had ended in silent, midnight explosions, midnight like black velvet and explosive as any orgasmic rush he'd ever felt in this room or in Erestor's.
Finally he had shoved it all away from himself, had ignored and denied it, done it for the sake of his own sanity. He had forgotten it, as best as he could, had told himself that when his eyes lingered over long on his twin brother that it was brotherly affection, admiration, anything but heat, shame, love, and desire.
"I felt ashamed, Elrohir. It wasn't good…" He bit his lip, understood the contradiction of his words in the rigid heat under his hand. "I thought if you knew you would hate me."
"Never, lirimaer." Elrohir whispered, breath tickling Elladan's cheek. "I could never hate you." His hand crept downward over the plain of Elladan's taut belly, over to hip, between his thighs. "Tell me what you imagined, what you fantasized or dreamt."
And Elladan did. The words came slowly at first, then more quickly, finally tumbling over each other and at last trailing away. Elrohir's fingers were pressing between his thighs, into his darkened cleft, into him, and Elladan knew not when Elrohir had brought out the oil, only knew that the fingers within him were hot and slick and smooth, merciless. Words were not possible, but Elrohir no longer demanded words. His hips bucked upward, and he writhed against Elrohir's body, against hot sheets and between his hand and his brother's. Writhed, cried out, reached his fulfillment with eyes closed in a darkness that was little different from black velvet or velvet midnight.
~ 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.
