Title & Chapter Number: An Arrangement of Thorns 35/36
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: Elrond and Co. return home; Elladan and Elrohir 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.
One of the great truths of rulership is that one cannot ignore duties and appearances simply because one is entrenched in personal strife. Elladan and Elrohir had come to understand this with ever increasing clarity during their parent's absence. Rulership had not in fact been entrusted to them, but as Lord Elrond's sons they had been required to handle the mundanities of their father's duties, and to continue to present Imladris as a safe, respectable haven. Initially they had felt overwhelmed by this responsibility; within a matter of days they'd become bored with it. Over the last day and a half it had become an almost maddening burden, a frustrating side track that they could not depart from. It felt surreal to be organizing a welcoming party while so many more pressing personal matters danced in their minds, felt wrong to be thinking of those matters when they should be thinking about their parent's return.
Aside from their confrontation with Melpomaen and their own issues, the house had been in a frenzy of activity since the advance runners had informed them of Elrond and Celebrian's imminent arrival. It had not been strictly necessary for them to take an active part in the preparations; they could have simply given orders to the house steward and then stood back to reap the accolades for their servant's work. Elladan and Elrohir, however, had wanted to do more than give an order and allow the clockwork household to produce a perfect reception. They had wanted to show their genuine pleasure at their parent's return, and also to demonstrate to them that they could and had handled Imladris competently - even to the planning of a welcoming reception for its Lord and Lady. There was pride and relief wrapped up in this effort, the desire to please and a sincere hope to never have to do this again - at least not any time soon. And, of course, there was also guilt.
Their work had paid off. By the time Lord Elrond's entourage rode into the yard the frantic pace had settled into a more usual, natural rhythm per their orders. It had been Elladan who had suggested that none of them would feel like dancing and singing after a long trip, and that after the splendor of `Lorien they'd probably rest easier in a more homely atmosphere. With this in mind the house's usual time table was ignored, allowing the travelers a small vacation from their vacation. Lunch had been a simple affair; the dishes served were of the sort that could wait in the kitchen for the Lord and Lady to bathe and rest at their leisure.
Dinner was where their understated planning had really showed. Instead of having it served in the great dining hall, they had chosen the small family dining area with its round table and circular sky light. There Elrond and Celebrian were served upon dishes that were not Celebrian's best, but her favorites. Instead of the long, silver tapers always in evidence in the main hall, Elrohir had unearthed a set of short, white pillar candles in clay holders to light the table, and one of the maids had arranged a centerpiece of wild flowers to take the place of the more usual array of white roses.
Not surprisingly, Elrond and Celebrian had retired early, but they'd been well pleased with their son's work. Elladan and Elrohir had seen the pride and happiness reflected in their parents' eyes, and in spite of the turmoil of the past forty-eight hours they felt it had been well worth the effort. Elrohir could appreciate the irony of it, that the most important thing he had accomplished in an official capacity during his parents' absence had been the organization of their welcoming reception, but that irony did not detract in the least from the pride he felt in it.
With the day behind him, Elrohir lay back on his bed, contemplated the ceiling and the following day. Though Elrond and Celebrian didn't know it, only half of his work was done and he had not had an opportunity to speak to his brother since the previous night. Elladan had been in no mood to talk, though he'd said that morning that they'd talk after their parents had gone to bed. That had been an hour ago, but Elrohir had not snuffed the candles or undressed for bed. Elladan's word was always good, and there were matters that needed to be discussed, needed to be settled before another day dawned.
He understood why Elladan had walked away from him, and why Elladan hadn't spoken to him since, at least not in any intimate or personal way. He knew his brother better than anyone else, as his brother knew him. Elladan was angry; no, Elladan was furious, and as had always been the case he was frightened of his own volatile emotions. That he would get over it went without saying. Like their father, Elladan's temper could flare hot and bright, but also like Elrond he was not the sort to keep that fire stoked. It would pass and time would pass, so much time that everyone around him would almost forget what it felt like to be on the receiving end of his rage.
This time was different; it had to be different because they were no longer just brothers, no longer just friends. Right or wrong, for better or for worse, they had chosen a path upon which hiding was no longer possible. Elrohir had never before thought it could be possible that anything could come between them, that anything could turn them against or away from each other. That had changed the first time their lips had met in a lover's kiss, and it did not matter that Erestor had asked them to do it. The time for mind games and denial had passed; they could have refused, they could have turned away, they could have said no. They hadn't done any of those things, and so they were left with this bond of lovers that could only sustain them if they could also hold onto the unconditional honesty of twin born brothers.
The door swung inward; Elladan stepped inside wordlessly, seated himself on the trunk at the foot of Elrohir's bed. For a long moment neither of them spoke. Elrohir pushed himself up on his elbows, settled back against the pillows. Elladan crossed an ankle over his knee, studied the smooth wood floor in the vicinity of the toe of his boot. At last he spoke.
"Look, Elrohir, I'm sorry."
"No. Don't say that." He sat upright, scooted down to the foot of the bed. "I know it's easier, but it's not right. Dammit, Elladan, you've done the least to be sorry for, and you're the only one who's apologized."
"Then what do you want me to say?" He looked up, shoved a tendril of loose hair out of his face with controlled vehemence.
"Nothing. Just… just listen for a little bit, Elladan."
"Alright."
The word was a chip of ice falling from his brother's lips, and Elrohir took a deep breath before beginning to speak. He started at the beginning, from the moment when he had seen Elladan on his knees in the garden, and though there were times when his words slowed and other times when his voice grew so soft as to be almost inaudible, he did not stop until he'd reached the end. Through most of that long discourse he kept his eyes on his lap, fiddled nervously with his sleeve cuffs. Elladan did not interrupt him, not even once, and though it had seemed a lengthy and difficult thing to explain in his mind he was rather appalled to find that it had only taken a little less than half an hour to lay it out in words.
"I am sorry, Elladan. I… I wanted to protect you, and I didn't like myself very much… Not what I was doing, or thinking, or wanting, or liking…" He trailed off, eyes darting up to almost, but not quite, meet Elladan's. " I love you, and that's always been the truth. So I used that as my excuse to cover everything else I was doing, good and bad." He took a deep, steadying breath. "The way you use the cuffs and games to make what you want to do alright."
He expected a gust of rage, but instead Elladan reached for him, picked his hand out of his lap and cradled it between his own.
"Elrohir, what do you think of me? Really?"
"What do you mean?" There was genuine bafflement in his tone, and his eyes were wide and startled. Elladan smiled ruefully.
"You wanted excuses to do what you wanted. I've never had any. Do you think me low and vile, do you level the same accusations at me that you level at yourself?"
"No! No, Elladan, never, it's different…"
"Oh yes, because I'm a little bit simple, right?"
Elrohir sighed heavily. "I'm sorry, Elladan. I swear I will never keep anything from you again, never treat you as anything less than an equal."
"I know." Elladan rubbed the back of Elrohir's hand, squeezed it gently. "But this… who we are… this is no one's doing but our own, and if we are equals than we are either both vile or we are both good and true. I don't think we're either, Elrohir, not heroes or villains, but I do know that I can't remain on this pedestal you've made for me as if I were a marble statue."
Elrohir swallowed hard, forced himself to look his brother in the eye. "Alright, then. Enough is enough. I love you, and I won't waste our time, sully our time, by blaming Erestor as if my feelings are a crime. And I don't want to chain you to our bed so that you can feel as if it's not your choice, either."
The hands holding his stilled, but did not release him. "Don't tell me you don't enjoy it."
Elrohir smiled, pushed Elladan's hair back from his face. "No, I won't tell you that. But sometimes… sometimes reasons do matter. You may not make excuses, but you aren't as accepting of this as you'd have me believe."
"No, I suppose not." It was Elladan's turn to glance down at his lap. "What does it matter, as long as it is between us, though?"
"It matters because you're blaming yourself, just as I have been blaming Erestor. It matters because people don't cast blame unless something is wrong. Isn't that what you were saying to me? That I blame Erestor because I think what we're doing is wrong? Do you think it's wrong, too?"
"I don't want to think it's wrong." Elladan said. His voice was small, strengthless. Elrohir turned his hand within his brother's, linked their fingers. "I don't want to stop."
"Neither do I. I think that maybe we both need to change the way we look at things." He glanced down at their joined hands, licked his lips. "This isn't going to be easy."
"No." Elladan replied. When he looked up his eyes were bright "But we've made a good start, don't you think?"
"Yes." Elrohir smiled. "Come here. Let's make it even better."
~*~*~*~
Elrohir watched his brother dress through half closed eyes. Their love making had been more tentative and awkward than usual, but no less satisfying for all of that. There had been no trappings of dominance and submission, no games, no implicit feeling of coercion, and Elrohir realized that in a way this was the first time that this had been so. Even their first time together had been orchestrated by Erestor, though Erestor had not been there. Since then their unions had been either guilty pleasure carried to fulfillment under Erestor's darkly redemptive shadow, or graphically sexual dramatics played out in order to exorcise demons they refused to outwardly acknowledge.
"Are you going to talk to him tomorrow, then?"
Elladan shook his head. "No, I'm going to see him tonight. He's probably wondering why he hasn't seen us yet." He pulled on his tunic without bothering with his under shirt, adjusted the sleeves and neck laces without looking in the mirror.
"Will you come back? Afterwards?"
Elladan shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. I'd like to, but…"
"But we have to be careful." Elrohir sighed, plucked at the embroidered pattern on the coverlet. "If you'd never changed rooms this wouldn't be an issue."
"If I'd never changed rooms, this wouldn't be an issue in more ways than one." He grinned, pushed his hair back behind his ears. "Get dressed and wait for me in my room. It's inconveniently located in the outback of no where, and about the best we can do for now."
Elrohir stretched. "Mmmm, tired."
"Get up, lazy thing."
He sighed dramatically and pushed himself up. "Well, since you put it that way." His eyes swept over Elladan's dressed form, and his smile faded. "Are you sure you don't want me to go with you?"
"No, Elrohir. This is between Erestor and I. Remember what you promised."
"Alright." He frowned as he pushed himself up out of the bed. "What do you need me for, Elladan?"
"To be there for me when it's over, Elf Knight." Elladan embraced him, kissed the high plain of his cheek. "I love you, Elrohir."
"As I love you." He stepped back, smiled wanly. "I will always be there for you, Elladan."
"I know." Elladan whispered. He turned toward the door, hesitated for a moment at the threshold. "I'll be back as quickly as I can."
~ 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.
