Title & Chapter Number: Good Relations 3/16
Author(s): & - Author's Index
Fandom: Tolkien
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: We do not own these characters; they are the property of JRR Tolkien and his estate. We are not making money off this story; it was written for the pure pleasure of it.
Warnings: Slight angst, graphic homoerotic (slash) content, incest.
Betas: Alex
Cast: Haldir/Glorfindel, Elladan/Elrohir, Legolas/Elrohir, Thranduil/Elladan
Timeline: TA AU
Spoilers: None
Summary: The sequel to "Peace Offerings". Glorfindel and Haldir escort the twins to Mirkwood at Galadriel's request in the hopes of forming a political union. The travelers settle into their quarters and the games begin.
Elladan and Elrohir were given adjoining rooms and they waited a respectful amount of time after the chambermaids left to unlock the door between them. Elrohir stepped across the threshold and into his twin's arms, burying his face in his hair.
"Is your outer door locked, gwanur?" Elladan asked quietly.
"Yes," Elrohir breathed.
"Good," Elladan growled in reply. He pulled Elrohir to his bed and quickly began removing his younger twin's garments, batting his hands away when he tried to help.
Elrohir trembled with want and Elladan was in a predatory mood, which always excited him beyond reason. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the nagging throbbing in his loins, the heat that flushed his skin, and the sound of his own ragged breathing. Ever since that first night by the swimming hole, Elrohir had been lost to his brother. Elladan had taken him forcefully, ignoring his pitiful pleas that he stop, that what they did was wrong, and he now thanked the Valar for it. He craved his twin, loved him beyond reason or measure; he was defined by Elladan's touch, by his own body's unwavering need for him.
He stood before Elladan, now fully divested of his garments and watched his twin consume his flesh with his hungry eyes. He felt the beads of moisture that blossomed at the tip of his quivering arousal and he returned his brother's hungry gaze.
"Touch yourself, Elrohir," Elladan softly commanded.
Elrohir obeyed his brother's command and slowly began running his hands over his body in the way he knew Elladan liked. His palms grazed his pebbled nipples and he began fondling them with his fingers, arching his back and moaning quietly. He closed his eyes for a brief moment before hearing Elladan sternly order him to open them again. He returned his gaze to that of his twin and licked his lips, imagining Elladan's mouth consuming his own. One hand traveled slowly down his abdomen, his fingers brushing though the hair that grew around his arousal. His now unbound hair fell forward as he lowered his chin just enough to gaze at his twin beneath his weighted lids, and the corners of his lips curved in to a small smile as his fingers locked around his own length. He watched Elladan's body respond to what he did to himself; he saw the rising bulge in his leggings, the increased tempo of his chest expanding and contracting with each deep breath, his tongue dart out and wet his lips in anticipation. Elladan began removing his own garments as his hand momentarily left his arousal and he cupped the pouch of skin beneath his length and rolled its weight slowly. Elladan's tunic fell in the floor and he heard the pop of the string that held his brother's leggings closed. His hand traveled further back, his fingers massaging his own entrance as he spread his legs. His other hand left his hard nipple and he placed two fingers in his mouth, swirling his tongue around them, his eyes never leaving his brother's. He placed his hand behind his back, reaching for his entrance when Elladan stepped out of his leggings and ordered him to stop.
"Wait. That is for me, melethron," he whispered huskily. He approached Elrohir and tangled his fingers in his hair, pressing a bruising kiss to his waiting lips and feeling his trembling body yield to his advances. He slowly and thoroughly kissed his brother, not stopping until Elrohir whimpered pleadingly. He pulled back from their heated kiss and looked into his brother's eyes that glistened with unshed tears of want. He caressed Elrohir's face and smiled lovingly, taking his chin in his mouth and sucking on it gently as his twin moaned in response. He turned Elrohir around and pushed him to his knees next to the bed before stroking his own arousal and making it slick with his own seed. He then knelt behind him, taking Elrohir's wrists and pinning them over his head against the mattress, bending his brother over until Elrohir's chest rested against the bed.
"Lle naa vanima, gwanur," he crooned in Elrohir's ear. "I have waited to do this since we left the Golden Wood, and now I plan to make it last as long as I can."
Elrohir spread his legs as wide as he could and arched back against Elladan, quietly replying, "Take me, Elladan, and do it slowly, do not stop until I beg you for release."
Elladan smiled against his brother's shoulder; Elrohir always knew what was in his mind, what he wanted from him. "That is just what I plan to do, my beauty," he growled. He slowly pushed inside Elrohir's body, inch by agonizing inch, until he was buried to the hilt in his brother's heat. Elrohir moaned and undulated against him, arching his back and rolling his hips forward slowly. He latched his lips upon Elrohir's ear, savoring his flesh, slowly tormenting him with long strokes of his tongue punctuated by nibbles on the point. He leisurely entered his brother and withdrew to his tip, repeating this motion over and over, until he heard what he waited for, the sound of his twin's voice begging. He increased the pace, striking his mark, thrusting harder and faster, driving deeper until he felt his impending release roaring in his veins. He growled as he thrust in as deeply as he could, burying himself to his root as he spilled his essence inside his twin's body.
Elrohir cried out into the mattress, the soft bedding muffling his wail of ecstasy. He spilled his release against the bed and panted underneath his brother as Elladan collapsed upon him, his soft lips caressing his ear as they reveled in their spent passion. He found climax, but still felt achingly unfulfilled. He knew this game well, he would remain in this state for the rest of the night until Elladan finally took him to bed and embraced his aching flesh with his sweet mouth, bringing him the release he would so desperately need. He smiled as Elladan whispered words in his ear so sweet as to melt the coldest heart, and he returned his brother's poetic words with his own that professed his undying love and devotion. He was whole in these moments when he sheathed his brother's length inside him, when he was wrapped in his strong arms and comforting words.
They reluctantly parted, slowly kissing and caressing one another before rising from the floor and stepping into the bath to prepare for dinner.
Haldir's lithe frame stretched taut as Glorfindel's mouth closed upon his length.
"Elbereth!" he hissed between clenched teeth, his eyes closing in bliss.
Glorfindel rolled his eyes up at his lover in amusement and took him deeper, swirling his tongue around the base of his shaft. His oiled fingers teased the opening of Haldir's body but did not enter him, despite the marchwarden's breathless pleading.
"Saes, Glorfindel," Haldir ground out. "Do not torment me so."
The Vanya lifted his head, letting Haldir's length slide from his lips and smirked. "We have several hours before we are expected at dinner, melethron. I intend to make the most of them." He lowered his head once more, running the tip of his tongue over the weeping crown of Haldir's length. "I promise you will find it worth the wait."
Haldir's hands gripped the sheets and wadded them tightly in his fists as Glorfindel resumed his leisurely torment. He groaned helplessly, undone by his lover's touch. The warmth of Glorfindel's mouth was replaced by his hand as the golden warrior moved lower. His tongue found Haldir's opening and circled it, the tip of it probing gently.
Glorfindel felt the body beneath him quiver as his tongue breached his lover's body, and he pressed as deeply as he could, delighting in the soft moans that escaped Haldir's lips. His hand moved in a slow rhythm over Haldir's length, the smooth column already slick with his lover's arousal.
"Gods," Haldir groaned, closing his eyes in bliss. "Do not stop." His body tightened and he cried out his release, the warmth of his seed spilling over them both.
The Vanyar smiled his success, and before Haldir could react, he had flipped his lover over onto his stomach. He ran his fingertips over the smooth curves of Haldir's buttocks, admiring their shape and feel. The marchwarden was like a golden god beneath him, perfect in every way, and Glorfindel could not keep from worshipping his flesh with his mouth.
Haldir gasped when he felt Glorfindel's fingers enter him, stretching him carefully. His lover's lips had moved lower and were mouthing the sensitive pouch of skin just below Haldir's arousal, and the combination of the two sensations was almost too much to bear. His length was hardening again, pressed against the mattress and he moaned softly as his need grew desperate.
"Mmm," Glorfindel purred, raising his head and nipping lightly on the full curve of one buttock. Haldir squirmed beneath him, groaned as Glorfindel added a third finger. He curled his index finger slightly, and was rewarded with a breathless cry as he struck his mark.
"Saes, meleth nín," Haldir pleaded, his body quivering with need when Glorfindel's fingers hit his mark again. "Aníron lle."
His own need throbbing mercilessly, driven to the state by Haldir's own cries, Glorfindel could no longer resist his lover's pleading. He withdrew his fingers, pulling Haldir's hips up until his lover was on his knees. Glorfindel knelt behind him, placing the tip of his arousal at Haldir's opening. He entered him with a slowness that was sweetly agonizing for the both, and their gasps of pleasure echoed softly in the room.
"Ai, yes," Glorfindel breathed, feeling the tight heat surround his length. The exquisiteness of the sensation nearly undid him. Gripping Haldir's hips tightly in both hands, he began to move. His thrusts were shallow and controlled, and he concentrated on running his length over his mark until Haldir began to arch and flex against him. His lover's movements drove him deeper and he was lost. Reaching forward with one hand, he grasped Haldir's length. He thrust deeply, timing his movements with the strokes on Haldir's arousal until his lover was openly moaning in abandon.
Haldir tightened around him, squeezing his length mercilessly as his release claimed him. With a groan, Glorfindel's own release came, and he buried his hardness into his lover's warmth. Breathless, he collapsed against Haldir's strong back, and felt the body beneath him trembling with the aftershocks.
For a moment, neither of them moved, until Haldir finally cleared his throat.
"As much as I love having you in that position, meleth nín, my arms are beginning to tire."
With a soft chuckle, Glorfindel straightened and withdrew his softening length. "My apologies, hûn nín."
They curled together on the bed, Haldir's head resting on Glorfindel's chest. A soft, contented sigh escaped the marchwarden, causing Glorfindel to chuckle again.
"Happy, are you, meleth?" he asked quietly, smiling.
"Aye," Haldir replied.
"Was it worth the wait?" he could not resist teasing. His grin widened when Haldir rolled an eye up at him.
"Aye," Haldir admitted, his lips twitching faintly as he struggled not to smile.
Glorfindel chuckled, pressing a swift kiss to his temple. "Good." His arms tightened around Haldir, holding him closer. "I have another question for you, meleth nín," he said softly.
Haldir heard a note of uncertainty in the Balrog Slayer's voice that was wholly uncharacteristic. He rose up on one elbow so he could see Glorfindel's face better. "What is it?" he asked worriedly.
"If we could find a way where we could both be together, and still fulfill our duties," he began, hesitating for a moment before plunging bravely onward. "Would you consider making our relationship permanent?"
Haldir's eyebrows rose as he looked down at his lover. "I thought our relationship was permanent. We do not seek other lovers." Realization of what Glorfindel was truly asking him dawned across his features. "Or did you mean something else?"
Glorfindel nodded slowly. "I did." He looked searchingly up at Haldir's face. "Would you?"
A slow smile spread across Haldir's handsome face and he nodded. "I would." He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss against Glorfindel's mouth. "Come, there is a nice warm bath waiting for us."
Pulling Haldir down against him, Glorfindel kissed him slowly, as if for the first time. "A bath sounds nice," he purred when he finally released him. "But I can think of better ways to spend our time, a'maelamin."
Haldir shook his head and chuckled softly at the bright gleam in the warrior's azure eyes. "You are insatiable, meleth nín," he said, gasping when Glorfindel's fingers found nipples and pinched them.
Glorfindel grinned wickedly up at him. "You are not complaining, I hope?"
"No," Haldir groaned, burying his face in the warmth of Glorfindel's neck and nipping the soft skin lightly. His body was already reawakening to his lover's sure touch. "Never."
~*~*~*~
Galathil grumbled under his breath as he followed his father's wardens through the main gate of his home. They had found him, despite his best attempts to evade discovery, and with strong words and threats, forced him to return to his father's hall with them. Warden was an accurate description, he thought blackly, as they literally shouldered him into the main hall. There was certainly no escaping their attentions.
His mumbled curses died upon his lips, however, when he saw the expression on his Adar's face.
"Leave us," Thranduil commanded his two best wardens, giving them a faint nod of approval for completing their task. They bowed respectfully and turned, leaving the Prince Regent alone with the King.
Thranduil eyed his oldest son, noting the wear and stains on his clothing with open disapproval. His gaze finally rested on Galathil's face. Folding his arms across his chest, he fixed the Prince with a stern look.
"Well," Thranduil drawled softly. "What do you have to say for yourself, Iôn?"
"What would you have me say, Adar?" he replied, determined not to show any remorse for his actions.
"An apology for running away and leaving me and your brother to explain your absence to our honored guests might be a good place to start, Iôn," Thranduil said. "I was expecting you here to greet them. Instead, I had to send Tarlyn and Amras to go and fetch you." His expression softened somewhat. "Why did you not obey me, Iôn? Why did you think you needed to hide from them?"
"I was not hiding, Adar," Galathil said strongly. "I simply did not wish to meet them."
Thranduil scowled. "Why ever not?"
Galathil wavered under the strength of his father's scowl. He took a deep breath and pressed doggedly onward. "I have no wish to associate with those Peredhil," he said, lifting his chin slightly. "They are not like us."
The King regarded his son, raising an elegant eyebrow. When Galathil said nothing further, Thranduil shook his head. "I see," he said finally. "You believe they are not worthy of your attention? Is that it, Iôn?"
The gleam in his father's eye told Galathil he had made an error in speaking his mind. He backpedaled quickly. "No, Adar. It is not that," he amended hastily. "I just do not wish to be coerced into bonding with one of them." He breathed a silent sigh of relief, thinking that his argument was sound.
Thranduil eyed him. "Your concerns are groundless, Galathil," he said coolly. "And I find your attitude towards the sons of Lord Elrond less than worthy of a Prince of your station. You know them not at all, so how can you presume to judge them on their mixed heritage alone?"
Galathil bowed his head, feeling like an elfling in the face of his father's disapproval.
"I see only one alternative," Thranduil continued, his voice hardening. "I charge you with the well being of Elrohir and Elladan while they are guests."
The Prince lifted his head, his expression betraying his surprise and dismay. "What do you mean, Adar?"
Thranduil dropped his arms to his sides. "What I mean is this: you will see to it that their every wish is granted, and that they want for nothing. You will entertain them and act as their host. Your duty is now to the sons of Elrond."
Galathil swallowed and bowed his head. "Yes, Adar."
"And know this: I expect you to fulfill this duty to the absolute best of your ability. Do not think that because you are my firstborn son, I will hesitate to punish you for dereliction of duty the same as I would any of my subjects loyal to me," Thranduil finished, his tone brooking no argument.
"Yes, Adar," Galathil answered meekly.
"Now go, and ready yourself as befits your rank," Thranduil said, flicking his eyes over Galathil's travel stained clothing. "You are expected at dinner this evening."
Grateful for the excuse, Galathil bowed, and fled his father's presence. He did not see Thranduil's smile as the door closed behind him.
~*~*~*~
Thranduil rubbed his forehead wearily, though his smile did not fade from his face. His oldest was trying at times, but he could not help but love the stubborn, hardheaded Prince. He could only hope to guide him, teach him, and show him that the world was far bigger than he knew.
Giving him the duty of serving the Peredhil while they were guests was a stroke of genius, Thranduil thought, his smile widening slightly. He was far too full of himself. Hopefully Elrohir and Elladan would take him down a peg or two, and in the process, teach his eldest a little humility.
Pleased with his decision, Thranduil made his way through the door that would eventually lead to his chambers. His steps led him past the library, and he saw that the door was open. Curious about who could be in his library, Thranduil paused at the entrance and looked inside.
A large stack of books were stacked in a neat column on a desk, and behind them, and Thranduil had to admit he was not surprised to see who it was that had dared to invade his library.
Erestor's dark head was bent over a rather impressive looking tome, his finger tracing the words as he read them. He was so enraptured by whatever he was reading that he did not notice Thranduil enter.
Thranduil watched him for a moment, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms. "I see you found my library, Lord Erestor," Thranduil said finally, smiling at the startled expression that crossed the counselor's face.
"Forgive me, my Lord," Erestor looked up, but looked anything but apologetic. "I did not mean to trespass. One of your servants told me you had an extensive library, and I am afraid I could not resist the temptation to see it for myself."
Thranduil chuckled softly. "There is nothing to forgive, Lord Erestor. I am gratified to see another using it." He crossed the room and stopped in front of the desk. He could tell that Erestor wanted nothing more than to go back to his reading, but the elf was doing his best not to show it.
"Is there something you wanted, my Lord?" Erestor asked politely.
Settling his weight easily on the corner of the desk, Thranduil looked down at the counselor and nodded. "Actually, there is something I would like your assistance with."
Dark eyebrows rose briefly as Erestor looked at him in surprise. "Certainly, my Lord. What can I help with?"
Thranduil laced his fingers together over his knee. "My eldest son, Galathil, has been, shall we say, less than enthused about meeting Elladan and Elrohir. Quite frankly, he is appalled by the very idea of bonding with either of them." The King shook his head, sighing. "He is stubborn, willful, and overly proud."
Erestor said nothing, but Thranduil did not need Galadriel's powers to read what the counselor was thinking.
Thranduil nodded. "Aye, he is quite a bit like his sire, I will grant. But I hope that over the last age I at least have become a bit more open minded."
The dark-haired elf inclined his head gracefully. "You have changed, my Lord, I will agree. You are no longer the fiery-tempered Prince you were when your father was King. You have much more patience and a better understanding of your fellows." Erestor smiled briefly. "Becoming a parent changes all of us in that regard." He closed the book he was reading and gave the King his undivided attention. "What is it you would like me to do?"
"I have charged Galathil with the well-being of Elrohir and Elladan while they are guests here," Thranduil answered. "But I am thinking that duty alone will not be enough to teach him the lesson I wish for him to learn."
Erestor folded his hands beneath his chin and looked up at Thranduil. "And what lesson would that be, my Lord?" he asked softly.
"Humility."
"Humility?" Erestor repeated, his eyebrows rising once more. He smiled briefly and nodded. "Ah, yes. I am familiar with that word."
Thranduil snorted. "I remember."
Erestor's smile grew as he regarded the King. "I am glad to hear you remember your lessons with me. Knowing what kind of task-master I am, and my expectations of the pupils I tutor, you still wish me to… instruct your son?"
"He may be King one day," Thranduil retorted. "I think the lessons you would teach him would be well served."
"If that is what you wish," Erestor replied easily. "Then I will endeavor to do my best by Prince Galathil. Will you tell him?"
Thranduil nodded. "I will give him the choice of serving the Peredhil or serving you. He will, of course, choose the latter, believing it to be the lesser and easier task. I will leave the rest up to you."
Erestor chuckled softly, settling back in the chair. "Pity that your youngest does not need such instruction," he said wistfully. "He is a rare beauty. I would love to have him for instruction, even for just a night."
The King frowned. "Legolas is as different from his brother as Ithil and Anor. They are opposite sides of the same coin." He shook his head at Erestor. "No, my gentle son does not need your teachings, Lord Erestor. And I would not give him to you for such."
"Pity," Erestor said again, but smiled knowingly. "You are hoping that one of the twins will…?" he trailed off, his implication clear.
Thranduil nodded curtly. "I want his first experience to be remarkable. Having seen Elladan and Elrohir, either of them would easily suffice. They are truly beyond what I expected." He lifted his gaze, smirking briefly. "Tell me, has Lord Elrond ever approached you about them?"
Erestor looked appalled by the thought. "Most certainly not, my Lord. They are wild, yes, and he despairs at times that they will ever settle down. But he would never…" Erestor shook his head firmly.
Thranduil chuckled softly. "They are beauties, the two of them. I look forward to getting to know them better." He rose from his seat, adjusting the folds of his robe. He turned towards the door and paused. "I will send Galathil to you after dinner this evening."
"I will do my best, my Lord," Erestor replied, opening the book once more.
~*~*~*~
A knock sounded on the wood of the door, and Elladan lifted his head, his fingers automatically continuing their task of braiding his brother's hair.
"Come in," he said, patting the last braid into place.
The door opened as he was changing positions with Elrohir, settling himself comfortably on the floor between his brother's knees. Elrohir was already gathering strands to braid them as Legolas stepped into the room.
The Prince smiled hesitantly at them and was rewarded with bright smiles from them both.
"I trust you are both well rested?" he asked politely, watching the one called Elrohir braid his brother's sable hair with well-practiced ease.
"Yes, thank you," Elladan responded, hiding his smile. He rolled his eyes up at his twin and saw Elrohir's eyes were bright with mirth. They had not `rested' at all.
"I am here to escort you to dinner," Legolas continued, unaware of the reason for their good humor.
Elrohir finished the last of the braid and squeezed Elladan's shoulder lightly. "All done, gwanur," he said softly.
They followed the Prince down the hall, and neither of them minded the view they were afforded of Legolas' slim backside as he descended the stairs. Elladan smirked knowingly at his twin, who rolled his eyes in response.
There was no one else save the servants in the dining room when they arrived, and Legolas led them to a trio of seats comfortably situated in front of the large fireplace.
"Adar and Galathil should be here any moment," Legolas said quietly, offering them each a glass of wine. "My brother arrived only an hour ago, but I am pleased you will get to meet him."
"Is he as fair as you are, my Prince?" Elladan asked with a coy smile, before taking a sip of his wine.
Legolas matched his smile. "Some would say fairer, though I do not think he is anywhere near as lovely as you and Elrohir." He took a drink of his wine.
"You are too kind," Elrohir said quietly, and he heard his brother's mental snort.
"Not at all," Legolas replied smoothly. "I merely speak of what I see."
Elladan smiled and placed his wine glass carefully on the hearth beside him. "Tell me," he said, leaning forward in his chair. "Have you many suitors, my Prince?"
Elrohir nearly choked on his wine and he gave his brother a brief look. ~Subtle, gwanur.~
Legolas lifted an eyebrow at his question. "Some," he replied. "Why do you ask?"
"I find that hard to believe. One as beautiful as yourself must have many that would wish to woo you. I only hope that my brother and I will have a fair chance at garnering your favors," Elladan said with a faint smirk.
Both of Legolas' eyebrows rose at this. "Well," he said, flushing faintly at Elladan's directness. "I could say, at this time, the competition for my 'favors', as you so delicately put it, is rather slight at the moment."
"Truly?" Elladan said, his smile broadening. "I envy the lucky creature who has the honor of being your lover."
Legolas took a sip of his wine and smiled wolfishly. "Perhaps it will be you, Elladan," he said, his voice dropping low. He turned and cast a heated glance at Elrohir. "Or, perhaps you, beautiful one." His smile widened. "Or, perhaps both?" Legolas' took another sip of his wine, his tongue snaking out to catch a drop that spilt on his lip, well aware of the sudden silence from the Peredhil as they watched. "I have been told that I should make my first time remarkable. I can think of nothing more remarkable than having the two of you in my bed."
Elrohir smirked, glancing at his brother.
"Being in your bed would be remarkable indeed," Elladan answered smoothly. "Though I wonder if you would be... up for the experience?"
Legolas chuckled softly, laying a hand on Elladan's knee. "Oh, I think I would be, meldir. Most assuredly."
Elrohir sat forward in his chair, his fingers lightly tracing the delicate embroidery on Legolas tunic. His eyes flickered to Legolas face and he gave him a slow, lazy smile. "I think we may have to put your words to the test, meldir," he purred softly.
"Oh yes," Elladan agreed, placing his hand over Legolas and leaning forward as well. "Most assuredly."
Legolas licked his lips, his eyes flicking from one pair of pewter eyes to the other.
Elrohir glanced at his brother and as one, they both moved forward, pressing their lips to opposite ears. Their warm breath sent shivers of anticipation down Legolas spine.
"Are you certain," Elrohir whispered, his lips lightly touching the delicate point of Legolas' ear.
"That you wish to be at both our mercies?" Elladan finished, running his tongue over the curve of the Prince's other ear.
Legolas laughed softly, his hands reaching up to cradle their heads, sliding his fingers into the silkiness of their hair. His fingertips brushed the tips of their ears, and he felt them shiver in response. "Oh yes," he said breathlessly, biting back a groan. "I would."
The rustle of robes drew the three of them apart, and they had each managed to settle back into their chairs by the time Lord Erestor, Haldir, and Glorfindel arrived. Their faces were flushed, but their color could easily be blamed on the heat of the fire they sat next to.
Elladan and Elrohir smiled innocently up at Glorfindel as the seneschal greeted them.
"I do not trust you two when you smile like that," Glorfindel said, eyeing them suspiciously. "What trouble could you have caused in so short amount of time?"
"Trouble?" Elladan asked, looking at his brother with an expression of complete bewilderment. "What do you mean?"
"We have been sitting here with Prince Legolas, having a polite conversation," Elrohir added, looking reproachfully at Glorfindel. "I would not say we were causing trouble."
Legolas laughed. "No indeed, Lord Glorfindel. They have been most… entertaining."
Glorfindel nodded. "They can be entertaining, when they are not being utter scamps."
"Do not believe him, my Prince," Elladan said, shaking his head with a laugh. "He still thinks of us as elflings under his tutelage. He forgets we are grown."
Erestor snorted under his breath, shaking his head. Haldir hid his smirk, turning to examine the elegant tapestry that hung next to the fireplace. Glorfindel merely sighed.
~*~*~*~
The servants moved unobtrusively around the table, replacing dishes, taking empty cups and plates away. The candles in the room had burned down halfway, and cast an inviting glow about the room. The wine had flowed freely, and his guests had relaxed their guard somewhat under its influence. Thranduil leaned his chin on his hand and watched the proceedings with great interest.
Elladan and Elrohir were sitting next to each other and across from his sons. Thranduil could not decide which was more intriguing, the way that the twins looked at each other and accidentally touched each other when they thought no one would observe them, or the way they kept looking at both Legolas and Galathil like they were dessert. Legolas, to his credit, was holding his own, casting smoldering looks at both Peredhil that made Thranduil grin inwardly; his youngest was more like himself than he realized. Galathil, on the other hand, was trying his best to do his father's bidding and hold a polite conversation with the twins. However, everything he commented on was quickly turned back on him, usually in the form of an innuendo of sorts, and Galathil was becoming quite flustered. His oldest son's consternation only grew when he realized that Lord Erestor was eyeing him as well. There was a speculative gleam in the Noldo's eye that made Thranduil almost feel sorry for his eldest son. Almost.
Glorfindel sat opposite Haldir, and the two were constantly making eye contact and smiling for no apparent reason. Thranduil managed to keep from chuckling at the sight. He would never have thought to see the great Balrog Slayer so smitten.
More wine was served, and the twins began to openly flirt with Legolas.
"How impressive is your sword, my Prince?" Elrohir asked.
"Can you wield it with any strength?" Elladan added.
"Do you have to use both hands?" Elrohir grinned.
Legolas smiled, laughing softly. "Why, yes. I have been told my sword is rather large. Perhaps you would enjoy a demonstration of my swordsmanship later?"
Glorfindel overheard part of the conversation, but was unaware of its context as he innocently added. "Elladan and Elrohir are both masters at swordsmanship. I should think you would greatly enjoy sparring together."
Thranduil nearly choked on his wine.
Elladan and Elrohir snickered, but Legolas merely smiled. "Why yes, I would enjoy that. Very much."
Galathil frowned and opened his mouth to add something, when Lord Erestor leaned over and whispered something in his ear. No one else save Thranduil heard the Noldo purr softly, "I have a better use for that tongue than idle banter." The Prince looked stunned for a moment, before closing his mouth. A brilliant flush colored his cheeks as Erestor returned to his seat, chuckling quietly.
Dinner ended with strawberries and cream, and Thranduil found himself watching the twins devour their fruit with more than a bit of interest. Their ripe lips seemed to caress the fruit before swallowing it, and though he knew their teasing was meant for Legolas, he could not help but appreciate their efforts. When the last plate was cleared away and the last of the wine consumed, Thranduil rose gracefully to his feet.
"I wish you all good evening," he said as they rose as well. "Galathil, I wish a word with you before I retire."
Grateful to be excused from the presence of the twins and Lord Erestor, Galathil followed his father out of the dining room and into his study.
Haldir looked at Glorfindel and grinned. "I think the King has the right idea, meldir," he said quietly. "Shall we retire?"
Glorfindel chuckled wickedly. "After you, my dear marchwarden." He turned and gave the twins a stern look. "I expect the two of you to behave as befits your station. I do not wish to have to explain to your father how his two sons caused a diplomatic incident while guests in Mirkwood."
"Yes, seneschal," they replied in unison, their eyes twinkling with suppressed merriment.
Lord Erestor rolled his eyes at Glorfindel. "You are wasting your breath, meldir," he said, moving away from the table to sit by the fireplace.
The Vanya laughed, and followed Haldir out of the dining room. They heard the marchwarden's undignified squawk of outrage followed by Glorfindel's wicked chuckle, but could only guess at the cause.
~*~*~*~
Galathil waited pensively as his father poured himself a glass of brandy, his hands folded behind his back. He waited for his father to chastise him for doing so poorly with the Peredhil. It simply was not fair. He did not have Legolas flair with flirting or with words. He was far too straightforward an elf for such things, and did not have much skill with them. Elladan and Elrohir had been aware of his pitiful attempts and had scorned them, it seemed, giving their attention to his younger brother instead. How was he to compete with Legolas when he was woefully outmatched by all three of them?
Thranduil carefully replaced the stopper on the decanter and turned to face his eldest son.
"I have a proposal for you, Iôn," his father began. "Or a choice, rather, for you to make."
Galathil looked at him in surprise. This was not what he had expected. "Yes, Ada?"
Placing the brandy snifter carefully on the corner of his desk, Thranduil folded his arms and regarded him. "You did not do well with Elladan and Elrohir this evening, Iôn, though I know you tried your best. It seems to me that perhaps the lesson I wish for you to learn would be best learned from someone older and more experienced than the sons of Elrond."
"What do you mean, Ada?" Galathil asked.
"I will give you the choice of continuing your duty to Elladan and Elrohir, or, commit yourself to the hands of Lord Erestor. Before you answer, I want you to consider this carefully. If you choose to serve your duty to Lord Erestor, I expect you to obey him as you would me. I will not accept anything else from you."
Galathil shifted uncomfortably. "In what capacity would I serve Lord Erestor, Ada?" he asked.
Thranduil smiled gently. "In any capacity he requests of you."
The Prince's eyes widened slightly as he remembered Erestor's words to him at dinner. "You mean…"
His father shrugged gracefully. "That is always a possibility, Iôn. He may simply ask for you to bring him tea and his slippers. I do not know for certain. However, I do know that you will learn from him. As I did, when I was not much older than you."
"What will I learn, Ada?" Galathil asked quietly, his brow furrowed.
Thranduil placed his hand on his son's shoulder. "Patience, respect, and humility. Lord Erestor excels as a teacher in these. You could learn from no better."
Galathil considered his father's words carefully. Lord Erestor was interesting, for certain. The dark-haired elf seemed to smolder with the same raw sensuality that he had seen his father display from time to time. He remembered the feel of Erestor's hand on his knee, and the warm touch of his breath against his ear when he whispered to him. It had not been altogether unpleasant. If Lord Erestor was looking for a companion in the bedroom, Galathil supposed he could do worse than serve in that capacity. At least he would not expect him to match wits with innuendo.
Finally, Galathil nodded. "I choose to serve Lord Erestor, Ada, if that is acceptable."
Thranduil smiled. "Yes, Iôn. That is acceptable. Now, go. Lord Erestor is waiting for you by the hearth in the dining room, unless I am mistaken."
Galathil eyed his father in surprise. "You told him?"
A soft chuckle escaped the King and he embraced Galathil lightly. "Of course, Iôn. I was pretty certain what you would decide."
He frowned, uncertain that he liked being so predictable. He was still frowning when he left his father's study to find Erestor.
~*~*~*~
Legolas glanced back at his companions and smirked. They were walking through one of the rare places in his father's hall that had windows – the indoor garden, and the twins had their heads together. From the looks on their faces, they were obviously planning something. They glided up beside him, one on his left, the other on his right, and smiled mischievously at him.
Elrohir reached for him, wrapping his arms securely around Legolas' waist as Elladan stepped closer, his hands sliding over Legolas' shoulders.
"We were interrupted earlier," Elladan said.
"We did not get to finish what we started," Elrohir continued.
"We would very much like to continue that now," they stated in unison.
Legolas smiled demurely and answered, "Well I know of just the place to do so… follow me." He slipped from the Peredhils' grasp and glided down the hall.
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