Title & Chapter Number: Good Relations 14/16
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.
Haldir adjusted Glorfindel's arm so that he supported most of the warrior's weight as they made their way to the seneschal's room. Glorfindel had stubbornly refused to be carried, which had not surprised Haldir. Wisely, he had not argued with his lover, but he had insisted that Glorfindel allow him to help him walk from the healing room and down the hall.
"I despise being weak like this," Glorfindel grumbled as Haldir finally released his hold and let him sit on the edge of the bed. "You do not have to act nurse maid to me."
Haldir smiled. "I know, meleth. I would feel the same if our positions were reversed, and so would you. I shudder to think if I were ever wounded, what coddling I would suffer though at your hands."
Glorfindel managed a weak laugh. "All right, Haldir. You are right, and I am being an ungrateful wretch. I am lucky to have you to look after me."
Nodding, Haldir pushed his lover back against the mattress gently. "You are, meleth nín," he agreed with a playful grin. "Now please, take some rest."
The Vanya scowled. "I an wholly tired of sleeping, Haldir. Truthfully, I am hungry. Does Thranduil starve his guests?"
Haldir controlled his smirk, though it was a struggle. "No, I am certain he does not. Would you like me to have something brought up?"
"Please." Glorfindel sighed, settling against the pillows.
After giving the request to the servant he had summoned, Haldir took a seat on the edge of the bed and smiled down at his grumpy beloved.
"Is there anything else I can get for you? Anything that will make this forced bed rest any easier for you and myself to endure?" he teased.
Glorfindel managed a ghost of his usual grin. "Well, if I am forced to remain abed, the least you can do is share it with me, meleth." His grin turned slightly wicked. "Preferably without clothing."
Haldir leaned forward, brushing his lips against Glorfindel's smiling ones. "Aiya, seron vell," he said softly. "Such a difficult request to agree to." He drew back, shaking his head. "But you are not to overtire yourself, meleth, or you will not recover your strength," he chastised.
The Vanya did not look the least bit repentant. "Saes, Haldir. I missed you." He reached up and trailed his fingers over the silver strands of Haldir's hair.
"I missed you as well, meleth nín," Haldir replied quietly. "I do not like seeing you this way. I do not know what I would have done if you had not returned to me." He took a shaky breath. "I thank the Valar that you have."
Glorfindel smiled and reached up for him. "So do I, hûn nín," he said softly, drawing him close and kissing him. "So do I."
~*~*~*~
Elrond adjusted the fold of his robes for the third time as he slowly paced from one end of the room to the other.
"Beloved," Celebrían said softly. "You are fretting over naught. Did you not see them?" She rose gracefully from her chair and walked to where he was, folding her arms around his waist. She tilted her head and looked up at him.
"I saw them," Elrond replied quietly, his brow furrowed. "I admit that they truly appear to be in love."
Celebrían reached up and brushed her fingertips over the furrow between his brows, soothing it away. "Then why do you worry? Do you not believe Thranduil will make Elladan happy? Or Legolas, Elrohir?"
Elrond frowned. "You did not mention Erestor and Galathil," he said.
She laughed softly. "I did not mention them because Erestor is a grown elf and not our son. Who he chooses to love is not our concern. Elladan and Elrohir are, but I do not understand why you are worried. I thought this news would make you happy."
He pressed a brief kiss against her brow. "I am pleased with Elrohir's choice. Legolas is everything I could have wanted for him. It is Elladan's choice that worries me. Thranduil is no young prince. He is a King, and much older than Elladan. He is also rather," he flailed for a moment for something appropriately diplomatic, "headstrong and tenacious when it comes to his own will. I worry that Elladan and he are too much alike for a true relationship to work between them."
Celebrían reached up and cradled his face with her hands. "Beloved, that is exactly why I believe their relationship will work. Elladan has forever been impetuous, and dragged Elrohir into whatever mischief he could devise. He needs a stronger mate to guide him, teach him, and temper him. That Thranduil is strong in his will means only that Elladan will not be able to bend him to his own will so easily. Thranduil is not one to follow without reason, and Elladan needs someone who will challenge him from time to time." She pressed her lips against Elrond's softly. "I think it is a good and wise match, and I think our oldest son will benefit much from having Thranduil to love him and guide him." She kissed him again, slower this time, and he could not help but respond to the sweetness of it. "Do not worry, meleth nín," she whispered against his mouth. "Elladan will not forget the lessons he learned at his father's knee."
Elrond pulled her close, resting his cheek against her soft hair. "I am blessed to have a mate who is so very wise."
She laughed softly, wrapping her arms around his narrow waist. "I am blessed to have a mate who remembers it."
~*~*~*~
Galadriel separated the silver strands and began to braid them, smiling as Celeborn leaned his head against her. She finished his braid and smoothed it with her fingers.
"Are you satisfied, dear one?" Celeborn asked quietly, reaching up to wrap her arms around his chest. "Our grandsons seem to have found happiness for themselves, though not, perhaps, the matches you were seeking."
She leaned against him, pressing her lips against the top of his head. "I am, meleth nín," she answered softly. "That Elladan and Thranduil have found love surprises me, but does not displease me. The ties between Imladris and Mirkwood will be stronger for it."
He lifted one hand and pressed his lips against the back of it. "It is not the first time you have mentioned the need for the closeness between them. What have you seen, dear one? Will you speak of it?"
Galadriel drew away from his embrace and walked around the chair he was seated in, sitting gracefully in the chair across from him.
"Dark times are ahead, meleth nín," she whispered. "I have seen it in my mirror, though not all has yet been revealed; only that when the time comes, Legolas will have an important and vital role to play in it all. He will come to Imladris as a representative of his father's kingdom, and his presence will help shape the course of the future."
Celeborn frowned, reaching forward to grasp one of her slender hands. "You saw something else, beloved. What is it?"
She shook her head, a small smile gracing her lips. "Only that if ties were not strengthened between Imladris and Mirkwood, that Thranduil would not have sent Legolas to Lord Elrond. Galathil would have come in his stead, and his dislike for the Peredhil would have had disastrous results."
The Lord of Lothlórien bowed his head a moment, considering his wife's words. He raised his head and offered her a small smile. "Then it is well that things have happened as they have. Prince Galathil does not seem to hold ill feelings towards Elladan and Elrohir. Perhaps Lord Erestor is the cause?"
Galadriel laughed softly. "Perhaps."
~*~*~*~
Galathil knelt in front of the fireplace, his hands clasped behind his back. He struggled to keep his balance as Erestor slowly thrust into his open mouth. His own arousal throbbed, untouched, against his stomach, its tip glistening with moisture. His jaws ached from swallowing Erestor's length, and his lips were swollen from the constant friction. Tears of need and frustration leaked from the corners of his closed eyes as he worked the length of flesh between his lips, laboring to bring Erestor to his peak.
His lover had not made his task easy. Each time Galathil felt the shaft harden between his lips, the telltale pulsing along its length that signaled impending release, Erestor had withdrawn, staving off his climax. Only when Erestor had regained control again did he allow Galathil to resume.
He had lost track of the number of times Erestor had withdrawn, but each time it was a form of delicious torture to feel the length of hard flesh slide again between his swollen lips. He heard Erestor's breathing quicken, and felt his length throb against his tongue as he swallowed it deeper, desperate to hear Erestor's groan and taste the sweet saltiness of his seed.
A soft, keening cry escaped him when Erestor withdrew once more.
"Saes, hîr nín," Galathil pleaded softly, opening his eyes. "Let me finish, let me give you pleasure."
Erestor's fingers brushed lightly over his cheeks, wiping his tears and smiled tenderly. "You are doing so well, ernilen," he chided softly. "Are you weary? Perhaps you wish to take your rest now?"
Galathil shook his head vehemently. "No, my lord. I – I…saes…" His arousal throbbed insistently, making it difficult for him to think. He licked his lips, focusing hungrily on the length of flesh just inches from his mouth. "Saes, melethron. Let me please you."
"Since you beg so prettily, my sweet princeling, you shall have your desire," Erestor said. His hand closed gently on the back of Galathil's neck, drawing him forward. "Pleasure me, then."
With a low moan, Galathil's mouth closed around Erestor's length, his tongue swirling along the underside as he drew it deeper into his mouth. His jaws ached but he ignored them, concentrating on the task at hand: giving his lover pleasure. He sucked harder, working the entire length between his lips until he was finally rewarded with a deep, breathless moan.
"That is it, my lovely one," Erestor crooned, his hand tightening its grip on the back of Galathil's neck. "Take all of me, fill your mouth with me." His breathing grew ragged as his eyes closed, another groan escaping him.
He felt the first, spurting warmth of Erestor's seed upon his tongue and whimpered in pleasure, swallowing his lover's essence greedily. It was not until he felt himself being gently pushed away that he released Erestor's length, letting it slide reluctantly between his swollen lips.
Galathil sat back on his heels, struggling to catch is breath. He was aware of Erestor watching him, and his skin flushed under the dark and knowing gaze.
"Come to bed, ernilen," Erestor murmured quietly, turning to extinguish all the lamps of their room save one. He carried it with him and set it carefully on the bedside table. He turned to watch Galathil as he crawled onto the bed, his arousal still painfully evident.
Galathil lay back on the coverlet, looking hungrily up at Erestor.
"What do you want, my beauty?" Erestor asked softly.
"Lle," Galathil whispered, his body aching with need.
Erestor smiled, reaching for the jar of salve and opening it. "Then you shall have me, meleth nín." He scooped out a generous portion of salve with his fingertips, and spread the slippery substance carefully over Galathil's length. His touch only served to enflame the Prince further, and a soft whimper escaped his lips. Wordlessly he offered the jar to Galathil, who looked at him questioningly for a moment, before dipping two fingers into it. Closing the lid, Erestor set the jar aside, and straddled Galathil's hips.
Galathil reached for Erestor's entrance with his slick fingers as his lover leaned forward, capturing a taut nipple between his teeth. A low rumble of pleasure escaped Erestor as Galathil's fingers breached him, spreading the salve into his body as deeply as he could reach. He found his mark and stroked it lightly, delighting in the quiver that went through Erestor's lithe frame. His lover laved his attention on the other nipple, biting it gently, and groaned when Galathil's fingers found their mark again.
"Take me, Galathil," Erestor whispered against his skin. "I would be yours."
Using his hands, he guided Erestor's hips until the tip of his arousal pushed against his lover's opening. He rolled his hips forward as Erestor pushed back, and he groaned in pleasure as his lover's tight heat surrounded his length.
Erestor's eyes were closed, and his mouth open as he moaned softly. He rocked forward and back, taking Galathil's length into his body with low sounds of pleasure. Galathil's hips rose and fell in rhythm to Erestor's rocking, and his groans echoed Erestor's as he neared his peak.
"Touch me, melethron," Erestor gasped. "Saes."
Galathil reached for Erestor's reawakened length and stroked it in time with their thrusts, feeling his lover's body tighten around him as he neared his own release. Erestor cried out, his length pulsing in Galathil's hand as his release claimed him. Galathil's hands were slick with his seed as he continued to stroke his length, his thrusts growing erratic as he reached his climax. With a loud groan, his hips bucked upward a final time, spilling his essence deep within his lover's welcoming body.
Erestor leaned forward, resting his head against Galathil's heaving chest, his own breathing finally slowing. His body occasionally twitched from the aftershocks, and he heard Galathil's soft chuckle.
"Melon lle, Erestor," Galathil whispered. His arms reached up to hold his lover tenderly. "You make me so happy."
"The feeling, dear ernilen, is mutual," Erestor replied, raising his head to press a soft kiss against Galathil's mouth. "Though it was not supposed to happen."
Galathil looked searchingly into his lover's dark eyes. "You are not unhappy that it did, are you?" he asked hesitantly.
Erestor shook his head. "No, seron vell," he whispered. "I am not."
A soft sigh escaped Galathil as Erestor finally pulled away, letting his now softening length slide free of his body. He immediately curled up next to his lover's body, resting his head on Erestor's chest. Erestor's arm slid around his shoulders, and he pressed a soft kiss against Galathil's hair.
"Will there be more lessons, now that we are lovers?" Galathil asked sleepily.
A low chuckle rumbled through Erestor's chest. "Ah, my sweet princeling," he replied softly, pressing him close. "What do you wish?"
"Honestly?" Galathil considered the question carefully for several moments. He was silent for so long, Erestor wondered if he had fallen into reverie. "Yes, I think I would. As long as we continue to have moments like this."
Slender fingers lifted his chin from his chest and Erestor placed a gentle kiss against his mouth.
"Aye, meleth nín," he replied softly. "We will."
~*~*~*~
Legolas straddled his father's lap as the warm water swirled around them. He sighed as Thranduil caressed his face, gently brushing the strands of wet hair that clung to his face behind his ears. He smiled as he trailed his fingers over the curve of his father's ear and pressed soft kisses to his face. "Melon le, Ada," he whispered softly.
Thranduil buried his face in his son's neck and answered, "Melon le, Legolas, meleth nín."
"You make me so happy, Ada," Legolas whispered, his lips ghosting over his father's ear. "I belong to you, I have always belonged to you."
Thranduil hugged his son tight and nuzzled his neck. "I thank the Valar for you each and every day, Greenleaf. You are so precious a gift to me."
Legolas smiled and laughed softly, causing Thranduil to look up into his son's eyes. Legolas' eyes were like sparkling pools of deep, pure water, so blue one could lose themselves in their depths for all time. His laughter was like bright bells, heralding the oncoming of spring, and his smile warmed even the coldest night. Never had Thranduil gazed upon one so perfect, so pure and beautiful, or so brave. He lost himself in the sapphire depths of his son's eyes, remembering Legolas as a child.
Legolas smiled and caressed his father's face, whispering, "What is it, Ada? What are you thinking of?"
Thranduil smiled broadly and answered, "I was remembering when you were still an elfling, how you and Galathil would run through the halls, weaving in and out of the chambermaids' legs as they carried the laundry, or how you would burst into the council chambers when you had escaped from your tutors. I remember the first time you called me Ada. You had been alive but three short years, Galathil was just beginning to run. I took you and your brother out to the foothills on the night of a new moon, and we sat upon the ground, looking at the sky together. Galathil lay upon his back, tossing handfuls of clover into to the air, carrying on conversations with his imaginary friend…"
"Oli," Legolas answered with a smile, "Oli the Oliphaunt."
Thranduil smiled. "Yes, Oli." He caressed his son's face and continued, "You were looking up at the stars and chattering away, sounds that formed no words spilling from your sweet lips. You pointed at the Light of Eärendil and you shouted, just as clear as day, `Mine!' I turned you in my arms and stared at you in amazement, then you reached out and touched my face with your tiny hand and said softly, `Mine, my Ada.'" He smiled and a tear rolled down his face. "Never in all my life had I heard a sound so sweet as you calling me Ada for the first time, that is until you first said you loved me."
Legolas smiled and embraced his father, burying his face in his flaxen mane. "You are mine, in every way now, Ada. My father, my teacher, my protector, my friend, my lover." He pulled back and took Thranduil's face in his hands and leaned forward, his lips caressing those of his love as he whispered, "Long have I waited for this, Adar, for the moment that I could make you mine, that I could take my place in your heart where I belong." He pressed a deep kiss to Thranduil's lips, staking his claim on the King's mouth. He kissed him long and slow; tasting of him, savoring him until he felt his lungs would burst. He pulled back and gasped for air, opening his eyes and staring into the depths of his father's midnight gaze. "Aniron le, Ada, I want to be inside you," he whispered.
Thranduil lifted his son from his lap, rising from the warm pool and gently pulling him with him. "Come, meleth nín, follow me," he said quietly.
Legolas did as he was asked, stepping out of the warm water and following his father to his own room. The thought of taking his father in his childhood bed caused his heart to race. He felt the insistent ache of unfulfilled desire, the longing and wanting that harried him each time he gazed upon his father's beauty. He stood next to the bed he had slept in from the time he was old enough to sleep alone, staring into his father's bottomless gaze. His hands roamed over shoulders and arms that once cradled and rocked him to peaceful dreams. He longed for those arms to hold him tight, to crush his body against the solidity of his father's form.
He moaned plaintively as Thranduil slid his hands into his hair, drawing his lips up to him, back to where they belonged. He was afire with want, and he wrapped his long arms around Thranduil, pulling him close and yielding to him completely.
"Please, Ada," he whispered into his father's ear.
"Patience, meleth," Thranduil's deep voice echoed in his ear. "We have sometime yet before dinner, I would enjoy you as long as possible."
He trembled as his love laid him upon the thick velvet coverlets and parted his long legs. Soft yet heated kisses trailed up the insides of his thighs as he moaned and opened to the one he loved. He moaned plaintively as Thranduil concentrated on the apex of his thighs, bestowing long laps of his tongue to the tender flesh. He wadded the blankets in his fists as he arched his back and splayed his legs wider. His desire was given voice as he cried out when his love encompassed the velvety pouch of skin with his mouth. "Please, Ada," he whimpered, "I want you so badly."
"Ssshh, meleth," Thranduil crooned. "You will have me soon enough, let me savor you, Greenleaf."
Legolas swallowed and nodded, taking deep breaths to calm his racing heart. "Melon le, Ada," he said softly.
Thranduil nuzzled his son's moist sex, brushing his lips through the hair that grew about its base, tracing the vein that pulsed incessantly along the underside of his swollen, weeping length. He heard Legolas' deep moans and breathless whispers, and they drove him on. He loved the way his son tasted, how he felt, how he smelled. He loved Legolas' lean, sculpted body, and his beautiful, open face. His Greenleaf was the embodiment of all that was beautiful to him, and he touched him and kissed him with total reverence.
Legolas raised his head and looked down at his father, peering into Thranduil's deep midnight eyes. He watched his lover's lips curve into a smile as he made his way up his body, bringing their mouths together in a bruising kiss. He tangled his fingers in his father's flaxen mane and wrapped his legs around his waist, rolling his hips forward so that their lengths brushed against one another. Legolas consumed his love, delving into the deepest recesses of his father's mouth, tasting and savoring him as he listened to his deep moans. He whimpered when Thranduil pulled away, and watched him sit up and take his arousal in his hand.
Legolas nodded and drew in a deep breath as Thranduil straddled him and lowered himself upon his rigid length. A loud gasp escaped him as he was sheathed in his father's unprepared body and his eyelids fluttered as a deep moan escaped his lips.
Thranduil closed his eyes and moaned softly as Legolas' length breached his body. He paused atop him for a moment, giving himself and his son time to adjust to the sensations flooding their bodies. He felt Legolas' strong fingers graze the tops of his thighs and he looked down at his son. A blissful smile crossed Legolas' lips and his eyes were closed, his chest rose and fell as he breathed deeply and Thranduil saw a single tear slip from the corner of his son's eye. He slowly leaned forward, causing Legolas to whimper quietly and he kissed the offending tear away, caressing his son's face as he whispered words of love in his ear.
Legolas' hands came to rest upon his father's hips, his fingers clinging to him tightly as he waited for his love to move. He heard his father pledge his love and devotion to him and he pressed his ear to Thranduil's lips as he smiled. A quiet gasp escaped him as Thranduil began to move atop him, slowly rising and falling, the pace gradually increasing. He heard the keening cry that escaped his love and he opened his eyes. His father leaned back upon his hands, his back arched and his thighs flexing. His flaxen mane cascaded down his back and his face was turned skyward, his luscious lips parted as he moaned in ecstasy. Never in his life had he seen a sight more beautiful as that of his father lost in passion. He began to rock his hips to meet his love's motion, thrusting deeper, driving further inside his tight body. His own release was building steadily, burning him from the inside, clamoring for its release. He took his father's length and pumped his hand along it, squeezing, releasing, milking the opalescent essence from his love's length. He focused on the sensations that were assaulting him, the hot glide of his hand along his father's silken length, the nearly unbearable ecstasy of velvet heat that squeezed his own pulsating desire. He felt his lover's release spill over his hand and stomach, and his own came hard upon, his arousal twitching and swelling before he spilled his essence inside his lover's body.
He watched his father's climax take him, watched his eyelids flutter, then still, watched the sweet smile cross his lips after a long sigh escaped them. He smiled as he heard his father's deep voice whisper, "Melon le, Greenleaf."
He smiled and stroked his father's hips. "Melon le, Ada," he whispered in reply. He laughed softly as his father fell upon him, attacking his neck and chest with his mouth, and he wrapped his arms around him, holding him tight and sharing in the warm afterglow of their spent passion.
~*~*~*~
Elladan awoke on his stomach, his hands folded beneath the pillow he rested his head upon. Elrohir lay atop him like a warm blanket, protective, comforting, loving. He smiled as he slowly began to awaken, glancing around the room and getting his bearings. They were in the King's bed, alone, and were guaranteed not to be disturbed. He shifted slowly beneath Elrohir and heard his twin's sleepy moan. "Elrohir," he said softly, "Wake, gwanunig."
Elrohir moaned and mumbled, burying his face in his twin's hair and shifting atop his body. "Mmm… Elladan? What is the time?"
Elladan smiled and answered softly, "I do not know, meleth. It feels as though we have been asleep for days."
Elrohir nodded, nuzzling the back of Elladan's head. "Aye, it does," he answered quietly. "You must be stiff, I have been on top of you nearly the entire night, I think."
Elladan chuckled and wiggled beneath him. "Not so stiff as to not enjoy the feel of you there, gwanunig," he purred.
Elrohir smiled wickedly and nipped the lobe of Elladan's ear. "Mmm… feeling sprightly are we?"
Elladan growled in response, "Quite."
Elrohir stroked his twin's sides and purred, "Then we will have to do something about it."
Elladan closed his eyes and moaned as he felt Elrohir's awakening arousal tease the cleft of his backside. "Take me, Elrohir," he whispered. "I want to feel you inside me."
Elrohir trembled upon hearing Elladan's words; it had been many years since his twin had invited him to do such a thing. "Are you sure, meleth?" he whispered quietly. "Is it truly what you want?"
Elladan nodded and arched against Elrohir. "Aye, meleth nín, it is what I want."
Elrohir pressed his lips to Elladan's ear and whispered, "Then you shall have it."
He reached across the bed and fumbled in the drawer of the bedside table for the phial of oil Thranduil kept there. He retrieved it and sat up, straddling Elladan's thighs as he prepared his now stiff length with the slippery substance. He gently parted the round globes of his love's backside and slid a single oiled finger inside him.
Elladan whimpered and arched against Elrohir's hand, his breath hitching as he adjusted to the invasion. He was seldom taken and not accustomed to the feeling, so he appreciated the care Elrohir showed in preparing him. He gasped as a second finger was added and pressed back against him, he was already craving more, needing and wanting more.
Elrohir prepared his twin with great care, slowly rotating his fingers, scissoring them, stretching and opening his love. He crooked his finger and Elladan cried out into the bedding and bucked back against his hand. A sensuous smile crossed his ample lips as his own recollections of just how good this felt floated through his mind. "Is that not the most amazing sensation?" he whispered into Elladan's ear. "Does it not set your blood afire and your heart to racing?"
Elladan nodded and whispered, "Aye, please, Elrohir, more."
Elrohir repeated the motion, his breath catching and arousal twitching upon hearing Elladan's keening cry. He wanted nothing more in that moment than to bury himself to the root in his twin's heat, to ride his writhing body to their mutual completion. But he willed himself to wait; to be sure Elladan was ready before entering him. "Are you ready, meleth nín? Are you ready for me to claim you?"
"Yes," Elladan whispered, "Aniron le, Elrohir."
Elrohir positioned his rigid length at his twin's opening and answered, "You shall have me, Elladan, always." He entered his twin's body in one smooth and slow thrust, not stopping until he was buried deep within him.
Elladan cried out and arched against Elrohir, pulling his legs underneath him as he pressed back against his twin's body.
Elrohir grasped Elladan's hips to steady himself, overcome with intense desire and overwhelming feelings of love and devotion. He began to move immediately, thrusting shallowly at first, slowly increasing the depth and pace with each thrust. He buried his face in Elladan's hair as he reached around him and took his heated length in his hand. He began stroking him in time with his thrusts, squeezing and releasing, his grip sliding through the viscous fluid that leaked from his twin's length. Elladan's plaintive moans rang in his ears, never had he heard so beautiful a sound. "Melon le, Elladan," he whispered against his brother's ear.
"Melon le, Elrohir, you feel so good inside me," was Elladan's breathless reply.
Elrohir groaned as his climax drew closer and Elladan began to tremble beneath him. "Tolo, Elladan," he whispered, "Come for me, meleth."
Elladan cried out as his release took him. Elrohir wrapped his arms around his twin's shoulders holding him tight and burying his face in Elladan's hair as he thrust deeply, a whimpering cry escaping his lips as he spilled himself inside Elladan's body.
Elrohir lay against his brother, his face resting in Elladan's rich sable hair, his body curled against Elladan's back as the warm waves of his release washed over him. He heard Elladan's soft sigh and moan of satisfaction and he smiled, raising one lazy hand to stroke his twin's hair.
"Mmm… that was wonderful, meleth," he said softly.
Elladan smiled and nodded. "Yes, it was melethron."
Elrohir felt his length begin to soften and slip from his twin's body. He heard Elladan's small whimper of disappointment as he slid from his twin's welcoming heat. He took a deep breath and softly spoke in Elladan's ear, "We need a bath gwanunig."
Elladan chuckled and nodded. "Aye, that we do. I suppose we will need to dress for dinner soon, and the chambermaids need to come in and change the bedding. Thranduil will not wish to sleep in the aftermath of our lovemaking."
Elrohir laughed softly and slowly rose off his brother's back. "I cannot imagine he would be too pleased with that."
Elladan rolled to his back and sat up, pounding his hand upon the mattress and pretending to bellow in his best King's voice, "Where is my chambermaid? My bed is not fit for a human!"
Elrohir laughed and shook his head. "Do not let him see you do that, gwanunig… I think he would give you a sound thrashing."
Elladan winked and nodded. "It is our secret, gwanunig."
The two brothers rose from the bed and donned their robes making for the King's private bathing chamber.
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