Title & Chapter Number: Good Relations 15/16
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 chairs around Thranduil's private dining table were full. Galadriel sat at the opposite end from Thranduil, surrounded by her wardens, Celeborn, and Celebrían. Elrond sat next to his wife with Erestor next to him. Glorfindel and Haldir were absent, the Vanya was not quite ready for an evening at the King's table, and Haldir had respectfully requested that he be allowed to stay by his lover's side. Thranduil's chair was still empty as they waited for their host to arrive.
Elves busily moved in and out, bringing trays laden with delicacies and pitchers filled with wine. Elladan and Elrohir chatted amiably with their old friends, taking delight in introducing them to Legolas and Galathil.
Rúmil smiled sweetly at the elder Prince and Galathil flushed under his regard. Orophin looked at Legolas, admiring his ethereal beauty over the rim of his wine goblet. Elrohir leaned over and gently shook his head.
"No, no, mellonen. He is mine," he playfully chastised.
Orophin leaned over, whispering in Elrohir's ear, "Come now, you do not really expect me to believe that you are so in love with him that you will actually go through with this. I know where your heart lies, gwador."
Elrohir merely smiled and answered, "Legolas is a rare beauty with a kind and strong heart, Orophin. He is an excellent choice for a bonded mate."
Orophin nudged the Peredhil with his elbow. "And the King? Thranduil will not be easily fooled in this, Elrohir. He has flawless powers of perception. They say he can see all that is in one's mind by just looking into their eyes."
Elrohir snorted and replied, "Then you best avoid his gaze, gwador. Or there may be penance to pay when you return to the Golden Wood."
Orophin furrowed his brow and grumbled before taking a large drink of his wine.
Thranduil entered the dining hall and bowed his head, covering his heart with his hand. His guests made to rise and he asked them to sit. "Please forgive my late arrival," he began quietly. "I had business to attend to that was unavoidable."
"Is there a problem, Adar?" Legolas asked softly.
Thranduil took his seat and waived his hand. "Only some minor skirmishes on the western border between rival clans of men. Nothing to concern us at this time."
Galadriel looked into Thranduil's eyes, sensing there was something more, but she could not discern what it was. She glanced at Celeborn, letting him see into her thoughts, and letting him know that something was amiss.
"Do you often have violence upon your borders, my Lord?" Celebrían asked.
Thranduil looked across the table to her and smiled. "Not often, Lady. Greenwood can be a dangerous place at times; remnants of Sauron's evil have not been entirely eliminated. However, it is by and large a safe and beautiful place to abide." He took a drink of wine and continued, "Men will always seek to make war, Lady Celebrían; it is in their nature."
She felt Elrond bristle at the remark and patted his hand under the table as she sighed quietly. She feared it would be a long night.
Elladan smiled and added, "It is also in men's nature to make peace and love, as evidenced by my ancestors."
Thranduil smiled and caressed Elladan's cheek. "Yes it is, melethen. Thank you for reminding me."
Elladan smiled and winked at the King, who smiled in return. Legolas and Elrohir tried to contain their mirth at so obvious a flirtation. Galathil looked at the table; he still had some difficulty imaging his father bonding to Elladan. His eyes widened as it occurred to him that Elladan would be his stepfather. As if Erestor could read his thoughts, he felt the Noldo's hand come to rest upon his thigh and squeeze it gently.
Elrond nearly groaned aloud as he watched his son gaze amorously at the King and smile oh so sweetly. He did not raise his eldest to be an eye-batting paramour to a Sindar King! Celebrían, sensing her husband was about to lose control of his temper yet again, gave his thigh a gentle squeeze as she whispered, "Tread lightly, meleth."
Galadriel raised one eyebrow at the blatant a flirtation, and heard the soft chuckle come from her husband. She also heard the quiet snicker that escaped Rúmil and shot him a chastising glance, at which, the young Galadhrim blushed and looked at his lap.
She smiled and addressed the King, "It pleases me that you have made a match with my grandsons, Thranduil. However, I did not think my oldest grandson would find love in the arms of Greenwood's King."
Thranduil smiled, glancing at Elladan for a moment, before replying, "Nor did I expect to fall in love with one so young. But love is often difficult to explain. Our hearts most often see what our minds overlook."
Elladan reached out and took Thranduil's hand, and the King gave him a tender smile that spoke volumes.
Galadriel glanced at her husband and he leaned forward, kissing her cheek. "I am content," he murmured in her ear. "Are you, melethen? Surely they would not speak of bonding if their hearts were not true," he added, squeezing her hand lightly with his own.
Elrond frowned; he was still unconvinced.
"Is this what you truly desire, Iôn?" he asked Elladan quietly.
Elladan smiled gently at his father and nodded. "Yes, Adar. Thranduil makes me happy. We love one another. I belong with him."
Elrohir swallowed, schooling his face into a mask of gentle approval. Inwardly, it pained him to hear those words spoken to their father, though he knew they were not true. Still, he wished he and Elladan were bonding with one another in front of their families, rather than participating in the ruse Thranduil had planned.
"And you, Elrohir? Are you happy, Iôn?" Elrond asked.
"Yes, Adar," Elrohir answered softly. "Legolas and I love one another very much."
Elrond sat back with a sigh; Celebrían squeezed his leg reassuringly. "Then you both have my blessings, ynen. But know this," he gave Thranduil a hard, searching look, "if you hurt my son, you will answer to me, Thranduil Oropherion."
Thranduil smiled, biting back the words that he longed to say in the face of Elrond's threat. He could not blame the Peredhil for being protective of his sons. He would feel the same about Legolas or Galathil.
"I will love him and treat him honorably, Elrond. You may count on that," he replied gravely.
Giving Galadriel a brief but loving glance, Celeborn raised his glass and smiled at the newly promised pairs of elves. "May love join your hearts for all time."
Galathil could not help but glance at Erestor as they echoed Celeborn's toast. The dark haired counselor favored him with a brief but thoughtful look before taking a sip of his wine.
~*~*~*~
The servants had cleared the last of the dishes away. Sweet, spiced wine was served following the rich desert, and Elrond found himself relaxing and enjoying himself, despite his best efforts to resist. He had watched Thranduil and Elladan throughout the entire meal, and had to admit that the two truly did seem to love one another. Elladan's displays of affection were somewhat overdone, in his opinion, but Elrond suspected it was because his son was trying to show him the depth of his feelings for Thranduil.
Celebrían leaned against him, her soft lips pressed against his ear and he shivered, smiling at the warm caress of breath that teased him.
"You see, melethen?" she whispered sweetly. "Your worries were for naught. Our sons are happy."
He nodded, sliding his hand up her thigh. "I am not afraid to admit when I am wrong," he replied.
Celebrían pulled back and gave him a flustered smile. "My lord," she whispered. "You are bold this evening."
Elrond thought she had never looked lovelier than she did in that moment; her cheeks were flushed a delicate pink and her eyes were bright with laughter. His eyes lowered as he smiled lasciviously at her. "I am not half as bold as I could be, seron vell," he murmured.
Celebrían smiled coyly. "What did you have in mind, my husband?" she replied knowingly.
Elladan rolled his eyes at smirked at the shocked expression on Elrohir's face. It was not every day that they saw their parents behave in such a fashion.
Legolas was aware of Elrohir's embarrassment, and sought to distract him by the most effective means necessary. He leaned across the table, and deliberately brushed his hand across the rise in Elrohir's leggings as he reached for the bottle of wine. He grinned at the Peredhil's soft gasp and poured them both another glass of potent drink.
Celeborn glanced at his wife, noting the faint blush on her cheeks with a knowing smile. His hand reached for hers beneath the table and twined their fingers together.
Thranduil perused the table, watching his guests drink their fill of the potent blackberry brandy. It had its usual effect, and even the Lady Galadriel's face was a bit flushed as her husband whispered in her ear. He smiled and rose from his chair, taking Elladan by the hand.
"If you all will excuse us, this has been a rather long day. Elladan and I would like to retire."
Elladan smiled as Thranduil pulled him into his arms and nodded to his parents and grandparents as they left the table.
Legolas raised one eyebrow and glanced at Elrohir, leaning over and whispering into his ear. Elrohir stood abruptly and made his and Legolas' apologies as well, quickly tugging the Prince away from the table.
Legolas looked over his shoulder and addressed their guests. "Galathil will be happy to entertain you. We will see you in the morning."
Elrond frowned at the sudden and hasty departure of his sons, but his frown quickly disappeared when Celebrían pressed her lips against his ear. He barely stifled his gasp of surprise when he felt her tongue flicker against the tip. He struggled to maintain his composure under Galadriel's knowing gaze.
"Yes, well," he said, clearing his throat. "It is late. Perhaps we should retire as well, melethen?"
Celebrían's soft laugh tickled his ear. "I thought you would never ask," she murmured sweetly, and rose from her chair, tugging at his hand. "Goodnight, Adar, Naneth."
Erestor hid his smile carefully behind his glass of wine and watched as the Lord of Imladris followed his wife eagerly from the room.
Galadriel added her voice to Celeborn's, wishing their daughter good night, though she suspected that their farewells fell on deaf ears. She laughed softly, and turned to smile at the lord of her heart. "Are you weary as well, my husband?" she asked softly, for his ears alone. "Or do you wish to stay and keep Erestor and Prince Galathil from each other's arms for a while longer?"
"Weary?" he repeated, his eyes bright with laughter. He leaned forward, pressing his lips to her delicately pointed ear. "I will show you how weary I am, seron vell, the moment we are alone," he purred softly.
Orophin and Rúmil watched their Lord and Lady's flirtatious play, silently wishing everyone would leave so they could make their way to their adjoining rooms. Rúmil slid his leg along his brother's, innocently looking off into space.
Orophin bit back the growl of impatience that rose in his throat and narrowed his eyes at his playful lover.
"We wish you all a good evening," Celeborn said, rising beside Galadriel. He held out his arm, smiling down at her as she took it. The others bid them good night and watched as the Lord and Lady of Lothlórien left.
Galathil glanced at Erestor, wondering if his lover wished to remain longer or if they could also, at last, retire for the night. Erestor returned his glance with a knowing smile that made him shiver in anticipation.
Rúmil rose from his chair, stretching catlike, smirking at his brother's quickly averted gaze. He bowed politely to Erestor and the Prince. "Good night, my lords," he said. "Come, muindor." He turned to Orophin and grinned. "You must be tired as well."
Orophin rose and bowed, waiting until they were out of sight of Erestor and Galathil before pouncing on his brother and pinning him to the wall.
"You are very wicked, muindor," he whispered, his lips inches from Rúmil's. "To tease me thus in front of the others."
Rúmil's tongue flickered out and touched Orophin's lower lip teasingly. "Not half as wicked as I would have liked," he whispered in reply.
~*~*~*~
Erestor smiled lazily at Galathil, his fingers trailing across the Prince's thigh. "Well, now," he purred softly. "It is just you and I." His fingers drifted higher, deftly undoing the clasps that held Galathil's robe.
Galathil swallowed, glancing nervously around the empty dining room. "My Lord," he said, his breath quickening as Erestor's fingers brushed against his newly bared skin. "Surely we should retire to somewhere more private."
The dark haired elf lifted an elegant eyebrow. "I suppose," he agreed reluctantly. "It would not do for the servants to wander in while I am sheathed in your lovely body." His hand trailed slowly across Galathil's chest, pinching one dusky colored nipple until it hardened beneath his fingers.
The Prince moaned softly, undone by his lover's touch and the image his soft words induced. "Please, my lord," he whispered.
Erestor chuckled and rose from his seat. "Come with me, ernilen."
~*~*~*~
Rúmil laughed, ducking around the corner as he raced down the corridor. Orophin was on his heels, and he could hear his brother's soft, taunting growls.
"When I catch you, muindor, you are going to pay."
"Then you had best catch me," Rúmil tossed back over his shoulder, taking the steps that led to the next level three at a time. His brother was fast, but Rúmil had always been the fleeter, nimbler of the two. Of course, he had no idea where he was headed, but it did not matter. He leapt across the final step and dashed down the hallway, his footfalls silent and swift.
"I am right behind you," Orophin growled. "You can run, but I will catch you."
"Save your breath, muindor," Rúmil laughed. "You will need it!" The hallway turned sharply, splitting into two different directions. With Orophin nearly right behind him, he chose the left hall, putting on an extra burst of speed to reach the next corner. He skidded around it, nearly falling when the rug beneath him slid sideways, but he made it. Grinning, he followed the hallway through a large archway carved deep into the rock and stumbled to a halt.
Dead end.
He was in a room most likely used for storage, if the dust that coated its contents was any indication. Furniture was stacked neatly against the stone walls, covered with cloths to protect it from the dust. Bookcases lined with old texts and scrolls were scattered amidst the furniture, and there was even a wardrobe that held old robes and other clothes.
Rúmil glanced quickly around him, searching for somewhere to hide, when his brother's hands closed around his waist and picked him up.
"Ai! Orophin!"
"I told you I would catch you, muindor tithen," Orophin told him smugly. "You ran yourself right into a corner."
Rúmil wiggled, struggling to free himself from his brother's tight grasp, his body tightening with expectation. Orophin held him easily, lifting him higher until he dangled ungracefully over his brother's shoulder, his long hair sweeping the ground.
"Now, what should I do with you?" Orophin mused.
"Put me down," Rúmil suggested, earning himself a painful swat on his upturned backside. "Ai!"
"I will put you down when I am ready to, pen-velui," Orophin replied. "And then I intend to enjoy every inch of you until you are begging me to take you."
"Oh!" Rúmil stopped squirming, his arousal hardening at the thought.
"Though I should teach you a lesson about running from me," Orophin added, his hand reaching up to squeeze Rúmil's bottom. "I should not have to chase my lover though the halls of Greenwood."
"It was only a game," Rúmil protested. "Surely you are not angry. I thought it was great fun."
"Aye," Orophin agreed, squeezing Rúmil's bottom again. "Though if I had not been forced to chase you, I would have you writhing beneath me right now, on a nice, soft bed. Now, I am forced to search for a flat surface in Thranduil's storage room upon which to ravage you properly."
Orophin's bottom was within easy reach of Rúmil's teeth, and he could not resist the urge to bite.
"Ouch!" Orophin stopped abruptly and yanked the cover off of a large chair. He sat down, pulling Rúmil across his lap. "You are going to pay for that, melethron," he growled.
Rúmil wiggled on Orophin's lap, feeling his brother's arousal press against his backside. "Oh, I am worried," he smirked. "What will you do to me, muindor?"
Orophin's eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he scanned the room. His gaze paused on something behind Rúmil and he smiled slowly. "I know just the thing."
Rúmil was faster, but Orophin was stronger, not that Rúmil was all that interested in escaping at this point. Orophin lifted him easily and set him on the edge of a cloth-covered desk. His fingers made quick work of the ties that held Rúmil's tunic closed, and he stripped it from his brother's body and tossed it behind him without looking to see where it fell. Rúmil shivered at the intent look on Orophin's face as he set to work on his leggings, pulling the string loose in one, quick motion. He gasped when his brother grabbed the waist of his leggings and pulled them over his hips in one, fluid motion.
"Lay back," Orophin told him softly, pushing with his hands against Rúmil's chest until he lay flat on the desk, with his hips resting just on the edge. "Banwain," Orophin murmured, his hands gliding over Rúmil's chest and down his stomach.
Rúmil groaned softly when his brother's hand closed about his length, stroking the heated flesh in slow, even movements. He closed his eyes, his head rolling back against the hard surface of the desk as Orophin's worked him expertly. He heard the distinctive sound of the laces popping on Orophin's leggings and opened his eyes. He whimpered at the sight that greeted him.
Orophin's eyes were closed as he worked both their lengths, stroking one in each hand. His breath rose and fell, quickening with each stroke, and Rúmil moaned plaintively at the sight. Orophin opened his eyes at the sound of his brother's voice and smiled. Gathering the slippery moisture from the tip of his own arousal, he pressed his fingers against his brother's opening, sliding them inside.
"I am going to take you now, melethron," Orophin whispered, scissoring his fingers slowly inside his brother's tight heat. "I cannot wait."
"But…" Rúmil's eyes widened as he felt Orophin's fingers leave him, replaced by the hard press of his brother's length. He could not help but wince as his brother entered his hastily prepared body.
A long, shuddering groan escaped Orophin as he felt Rúmil's tightness close around him. His hands gripped his brother's hips, steadying himself as he waited for Rúmil's body to adjust and accept him. "Melon le, Rúmil."
Rúmil bit his lip, whimpering in frustration as his brother began to move. He reached for his aching arousal, only to have his hands batted away with a low, warning growl from Orophin.
"Not until I say, pen-vaelui," Orophin growled quietly. "Your pleasure is mine alone to give." He smiled wickedly, thrusting deeper and earning a soft, pleading moan from Rúmil. "That will teach you to run from me." His hands gripped his brother's thighs, spreading them wider as he drove his length into Rúmil's tight heat. He could feel his pleasure building, growing, driving him towards his release with each long thrust. Rúmil's low, plaintive moans filled his ears as he shuddered, burying his length deeply. He cried out his pleasure as his release claimed him, and he filled his lover's body with his seed.
Panting slightly, Orophin grinned down at Rúmil's flushed face, his length still buried deep inside. "Now," he murmured.
Rúmil reached for his length and stroked it, feeling Orophin's arousal twitch deep inside of him. It did not take him long before he shuddered, groaning softly, the warmth of his release covering his stomach and hand.
Orophin withdrew his softening length from Rúmil's body and leaned forward, his tongue darting out like a cat's to lap at his brother's stomach. He thoroughly and lovingly cleaned every last bit of his lover's essence from his skin, humming contentedly as he did so. When he finished, he raised his head and smiled down at Rúmil.
"So, muindor tithen," he said, smirking. "Did you learn your lesson?"
Rúmil frowned but could not hold it. "Yes," he replied finally, chuckling softly. "I guess I did."
Orophin pulled his brother up from the desk and held him, wrapping his arms lovingly around Rúmil's shoulders. "You are not angry with me, I hope?"
"No," Rúmil replied, kissing the tender skin at the juncture of Orophin's neck and shoulder. "It was an interesting game."
"Melon le, Rúmil," Orophin whispered, hugging him tightly.
Rúmil smiled. "I love you too," he replied. "Now, can we go to our room? This place is rather drafty without clothing."
Orophin chuckled softly. "Of course."
~*~*~*~
"Wait for me there…" those were the last words the King had spoken before sending Elladan to the baths. The Peredhil sat and waited for his betrothed, beads of water running down his back and chest. He wondered if Elrohir and Legolas would be joining them that night, it would be too risky for him to have Elrohir alone, not with his grandparents and parents around.
He idly swung his feet in the warm water, listening to the soft splashing noises echo in the candlelit room. He closed his eyes, his head hanging back, the ends of his hair trailing through the water that puddled upon the floor.
"How delicious you are, pen-vaelui," Thranduil's deep voice purred in his ear. "I could look at you all day and into the night."
Elladan's arousal twitched the moment Thranduil's voice drifted into his ear. The Sinda's soft, heated breath caressed its curve, the deep, dulcet tones causing his heart to race and his body to awaken to the possibilities. "What would you have of me, hîren?"
"What would I have?" Thranduil turned over the thought in his mind as his hands roamed Elladan's shoulders, arms, and chest. "I would have you make such sweet sounds of passion as to enrapture all that would hear it."
Elladan smiled and leaned back against Thranduil's chest. His hands glided over the King's powerful thighs and he replied, "To think I was resistant to this."
Thranduil smiled and caressed the curve of Elladan's ear with his lips. He whispered softly, "I am glad you have changed your mind, pen-vain. It gives me great pleasure to see you undone by my touch."
"You do undo me, nauren; were it not for Elrohir's love, you would possess me utterly," Elladan replied quietly.
Thranduil stroked Elladan's stomach and smiled as he heard the quiet gasp issue from his lover. "I would not take what is not mine, by rights, pen-neth. I know where your heart lies, and there it shall stay, forever safe from those who would separate you."
"As your heart will remain safe in Legolas' keeping," Elladan replied breathlessly.
"Aye, that it shall."
It was Legolas' voice Elladan heard as he looked up to see the Prince and his twin come into the baths. Legolas led Elrohir by the hand; both dressed in thin, loose robes. Their hair was unbound, falling around their shoulders. Elladan remarked at how striking they looked together, dark and light, as the moon against the midnight sky. Elrohir smiled at him, his ripe lips curving sensuously and causing him to shudder with desire.
"Such a strange and giddy thing, love is," Thranduil purred into Elladan's ear, his skillful hands creeping lower to tease the dark hair that grew about the base of his arousal. "It makes fools of us all, I fear. It drives us to incredible lengths to keep it, makes us suffer the yoke of despair when we lose it. But without it, we are lost, no good to ourselves or one another."
Elladan closed his eyes, digging his fingers into Thranduil's thighs. He heard the soft splashing of his twin and Legolas entering the water, then gasped quietly as he felt strong archer's hands sliding over his thighs. He opened his eyes to see Legolas kneeling in between his legs upon a bench carved in the smooth stone of the spring. The Prince gazed up at him with midnight eyes, his tongue darting out and wetting his soft lips. Elrohir stood behind him, his twin's hands roaming over the long curve of the Prince's back. Never in his life had he seen a more alluring sight, Legolas was pure sensuality, deceivingly dangerous in his gentleness. Thranduil was a predator all right, but his son was nearly as deadly.
He groaned as Thranduil gripped the base of his pulsating arousal in his hand and took the point of his ear into his mouth. The King had come to rest in a sitting position behind him, and he felt his arousal press into his back, and he reached behind him, wrapping his arms around the King's neck. He moaned loudly as Legolas engulfed his length with his mouth, Thranduil's hand expertly working what Legolas did not consume. The Prince started to moan as he worked his length between his lips and Elladan opened his eyes to see his brother's arm wrapped around Legolas' waist. Elrohir's cheek rested between Legolas' shoulder blades, his free hand caressing the Prince's arms and shoulders, his ripe lips dropping kisses to his flawless alabaster flesh. He saw Elrohir flexing his hips, rocking slowly back and forth, and he imagined his twin's arousal sliding between Legolas' buttocks with agonizing slowness. He whimpered as Thranduil consumed his neck and shoulders, the King's free hand teasing his nipples into hardened peaks. He felt his release building, burning him from the inside until he would cry out and lose all that he was in a moment of pure bliss. Thranduil's legs were wrapped over his own, holding them open, leaving him helpless to Legolas' assault. He could not thrust forward, he could not withdraw, he was pinned between them and utterly at their mercy. He felt his body tighten of its own accord, and he whimpered. Thranduil's hand forcefully gripped his arousal, preventing his release as he cried out into the steam filled room.
Legolas let Elladan's length slip from his lips and he smiled up at the trembling Peredhil. His own length throbbed mercilessly, Elrohir's skilled touch keeping him just on the edge of completion. He groaned as Elrohir's hand drifted lower, cupping the velvety pouch that lay between his legs and giving it a little squeeze. He spread his legs wider, rolling back into Elrohir and feeling his arousal slide into the cleft of his buttocks. "Aniron chen, Elrohir," he whispered hoarsely and he hissed through his clenched jaw as Elrohir bit him on the shoulder. "Ai, yes," he whispered as he felt Elrohir's fingers slide inside him, gently preparing the way for his rigid length.
Elrohir alternately licked and bit the Prince's neck and shoulders, leaving a trail of love marks that would be gone by morning. He withdrew his fingers and teased Legolas' entrance with the tip of his arousal, wanting nothing more than to thrust into Legolas' willing body. "I want to bury myself in you, pen-vaelui," he whispered.
"Mmm… yes," Legolas answered, as he pressed back against Elrohir.
Elrohir looked up to see Elladan impale himself upon Thranduil's rigid length, just as he entered Legolas. He reached around and pulled Legolas back against his chest, burying his face in the Prince's hair as he thrust inside him. Legolas reached down and grasped his hips; his long fingers dug into the muscle and flesh as he rode the Prince's body. Legolas undulated against him as he reached around him, taking his length in hand and stroking in time with his thrusts. Legolas' soft sighs and deep moans were fueling Elrohir as he increased his pace. He watched Elladan from over Legolas' shoulder, his twin straddled the King's lap, his arms wrapped around Thranduil's neck as he rolled his hips forward and back. Thranduil's fingers were buried in Elladan's hair and the King hungrily consumed his twin's mouth. His thoughts drifted to his twin's mind, softly caressing his consciousness, **Melin le, Elladan.**
Elladan responded, **Melin le, Elrohir.**
Elladan was the first to find his climax, his cry echoing through the steam filled room as Thranduil buried himself to the root. Legolas was next, his body tightening around Elrohir's rigid length as he growled his own release. Elrohir and Thranduil came close together, each groaning as they spilled their essence inside their lovers' bodies. Elrohir leaned his head against Legolas' shoulder, his arms wrapped tightly around the Prince's chest. Legolas sighed softly, his hands caressing Elrohir's forearms as he leaned his head against his lover's.
They heard the soft splashing of one entering the pool and both turned to see Thranduil carrying Elladan. The Peredhil had his legs wrapped around the King's waist and his arms around Thranduil's neck. Elladan smiled as he placed soft kisses on Thranduil's face and the Sinda responded by whispering sweet words into Elladan's ear. They joined Elrohir and Legolas, and Thranduil released Elladan. The four lovers sat next to one another on the stone bench, Elrohir on one end, his arms around Legolas, Elladan next to the Prince with Thranduil on his other side. Elladan knew that Thranduil wanted to hold Legolas in his arms, as badly as he wanted to hold Elrohir, but as long as their parents and grandparents were in the wood, they had to be careful and keep up appearances. They talked quietly in the baths for sometime before leaving the warm water and retiring to separate bedrooms. Elladan with Thranduil, and Elrohir with Legolas.
As Elrohir lay upon his back in the bed, caressing Legolas' back with one hand and the curve of the Prince's ear with the other, he thought about his twin. His beloved was curled against the strong form of Thranduil in the other room. He knew Legolas wanted to be in Elladan's place as badly as he wanted Elladan with him. But, he mused, if he could not hold his twin right now, Legolas was not a bad substitution; he was growing quite fond of the Sinda Prince.
~*~*~*~
Galathil would never look at his father's library quite the same way again. In particular, the desk where many of the scribes did their research work and where his father often sat late into the evening, reading old texts.
It was both unnerving and exciting, the way Erestor ruthlessly stripped him of his robes and turned him around, bending him over the desk. His lover's hands moved possessively over his back, his hips, and his buttocks, stroking and pinching the tender flesh. Erestor's hot mouth trailed kisses across his flanks, sending shivers of delight through Galathil's body. His lover's fingers delved between his buttocks, pulling them apart and opening his body to his gaze. Galathil felt helpless, wanton, and deliciously naughty, bent across his father's desk while his lover's tongue teased his opening until he was whimpering with need.
Erestor used his knee to press Galathil's thighs further apart, until he was balancing on the balls of his feet, most of his weight supported by the desk. His fingers gripped the edge of the desk tighter when Erestor's tongue penetrated him, and his soft, keening moans filled the library.
His plaintive cry of disappointment when Erestor's tongue left him made his lover chuckle. Erestor's soft robes brushed against his backside as his lover leaned across his back, brushing his fingers alongside Galathil's cheek. He turned his head, accepting the fingers his lover offered greedily, wetting them thoroughly with his mouth.
Erestor's long fingers pressed into him, stretching his passage with a sure touch that left Galathil breathless. When Erestor's fingers left him, he shuddered at the empty feeling they left behind. He balanced on his toes, spreading his legs as wide as he was capable, pressing his arousal against the hard wood beneath him. He heard his lover's soft murmur of approval and trembled, eager to be taken.
Galathil heard Erestor's robes fall open and moaned softly, making his lover chuckle once more.
"So eager, pen-vaelui," Erestor crooned, rubbing his weeping length between the cleft of Galathil's buttocks. "How lovely you look, ernilen, open and ready for me." He pressed the tip of his arousal against Galathil's opening, and entered his body with agonizing slowness.
Galathil trembled. His breath came in short, harsh gasps as his body was stretched, filled by his lover's hard length.
Erestor did not stop until his length was sheathed fully in Galathil's body, his thighs cupping his young lover's buttocks. He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss against Galathil's neck. His hands gripped the Prince's hips to steady him as he drew back, a low groan spilling from his lips. He thrust forward, burying himself in Galathil's body once more, eliciting a keening moan from his lover.
Galathil held tightly to the edge of the desk, his hips rising and falling with the steady rhythm of thrusts. His arousal ached, throbbing against the unyielding surface of the wood as Erestor's pace quickened. His lover paused, pressing his legs further apart, before resuming his long, swift strokes. Galathil cried out as Erestor found his mark, running his length over it repeatedly as his thrusts became more heated, his thighs smacking against Galathil's buttocks almost painfully. His body tightened, and he pushed against the desk, desperate to attain his release and frustrated by the lack of friction against his length. He felt Erestor shudder and heard his lover's deep growl of pleasure as the warmth of his seed flooded his body.
A soft whimper escaped him when Erestor finally pulled his softening length from his body. Tears of frustration and need spilled, unheeded down his cheeks, and Erestor kissed them tenderly away.
"Come, melethen," he said, releasing Galathil. "Dress yourself."
Galathil nodded, stepping away to gather his robes. "Yes, my lord," he whispered.
He was grateful that his robes were loose, though the material brushed against his arousal as he walked behind Erestor. His body ached with unfulfilled need, but he did not question his lover's purpose for leaving him this way. Instead he simply concentrated on following Erestor's lithe form through the halls of his home. It was not until he smelled the unique scent of oranges and jasmine that he realized his lover had taken him to the private bath that adjoined his chambers.
Careful fingers stripped his robes from him and guided him to the heated and scented pool, pushing him gently beneath the water. He sat down on one of the stone benches and closed his eyes, smiling in pleasure as the heated water caressed his limbs. He heard the splash of water as Erestor joined him in the pool and he opened his eyes.
"Wet your hair, ernilen, and I will wash it for you," Erestor commanded quietly.
Galathil nodded and rose from the bench, immersing himself fully in the water. He rose, wiping his eyes, and resumed his place on the bench.
The spicy scent of sandalwood and oranges filled the air as Erestor poured a generous amount of liquefied soap into his hand and worked it gently into Galathil's blonde hair. Long, slender fingers massaged his scalp, lathering the soap until it foamed, and Galathil sighed in pure bliss. A tap on his shoulder indicated he should rinse his hair, and he rose from the bench once more.
When he rose from the water, Erestor pushed his wet hair back from his face and guided him to lean against the side of the pool. He felt the cool, slippery touch of soap against his skin as Erestor's hands slid over his shoulders and down his back, kneading the muscles with a sure touch that left Galathil weak. He was turned, and the process was repeated with his neck and chest, the touches lingering on his nipples until they hardened into aching peaks beneath Erestor's fingers.
Erestor's lips brushed against his, and he leaned into the kiss, moaning softly. He closed his eyes, his tongue delving into the warmth of Erestor's mouth as his lover's hands drifted over his chest and stomach.
His arousal had softened somewhat under Erestor's gentle ministrations and the soothing warmth of the water. It hardened anew at this tender onslaught of his senses, and Galathil groaned quietly, the sound muffled by the press of Erestor's mouth as his lover's hand encircled his length. Slow, teasing strokes stole his breath and made him tremble against Erestor's body.
Erestor drew back, releasing his claim on Galathil's mouth. "On the ledge, ernilen," he whispered.
Galathil moved back, rising out of the water to sit on the edge of the pool. Erestor moved to stand between his thighs, his head bending to take Galathil's length in his mouth. His lover's hand pushed gently on his chest, indicating that he should lie against the floor, and he leaned back until his shoulders rested against the cool tile. Erestor's hands reached up to grip his thighs, pulling him closer and Galathil groaned as his lover drew him deep into the heat of his mouth. Soft, swirling suction caressed his length in slow and steady strokes, and he felt the touch of Erestor's fingers against his opening. They were slippery from the soap and slid into his body with ease, thrusting slowly in a counterpoint with his lover's mouth upon his length.
Erestor's fingers curled, seeking their mark and finding it deep within his lover's body. He swallowed Galathil's throbbing length even as his fingers brushed his mark again, and he heard the Prince's keening cry of pleasure. Warmth flooded his mouth and he swallowed Galathil's pleasure eagerly, milking every last drop of his lover's seed from his length until he felt the prince shudder helplessly beneath him.
Strong yet gentle hands drew him back into the water and held him as he recovered, his breath gradually slowing to something akin to normal. Galathil opened his eyes finally and gave his lover a satisfied smile.
"Melin le, Galathil," Erestor whispered, bending his head to claim Galathil's mouth in a swift and breath-stealing kiss.
It was not until afterwards, as Galathil lay nearly asleep next to his lover's warm body, that the Prince realized that Erestor had told him he loved him.
~*~*~*~
Gwador = sworn brother
Mellonen = my friend
Melethen = my love
Ynen = my sons
Muindor = brother by blood
Ernilen = my Prince
Muindor tithen = little brother
Melethron = my lover
Banwan = most beautiful
Pen-vaelui = lusty one
Hîren = my Lord
Pen-vain = beautiful one
Nauren = my flame
Pen-neth = young one
Aniron chen = I desire you
Melin le = I love thee~ Next Chapter ~
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