Title & Chapter Number: Tale of Two Brothers 27/33
Author(s): - Author's Index
Website:
Fandom: Tolkien
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they are the property of Tolkien with the exception of an original or two, and I am sure he would be horrified if he read this…
Warnings: This story is rated NC-17 and contains male slash pairings and explicit sexual content, and twincest. If you find this offensive, or you are under-age, I strongly suggest you stop now.
Betas: Larian Elensar
Cast: Elrohir/Glorfindel, Elladan/Legolas, Elladan/Erestor, Elladan/Elrohir, Glorfindel/Erestor, Legolas/Erestor, Elladan/Elrohir/Glorfindel
Timeline: Early Third Age
Spoilers: None
Summary: Elladan tries to regain trust in his twin, Thranduil makes a discovery amongst his subjects, Glorfindel rushes toward Imladris.
Notes: Yet another coming of age story about the Twins… This story is part of a larger arc and runs concurrently with the Rock Stars series. The entire arc is: Forbidden Bond, Tale of Two Brothers, Rock Stars, Elves, & Smut, All That You Can't Leave Behind, Farewells and New Beginnings.
March 13, 3019, Pelargir, Lebennin
Elladan sat upon the floor, watching Elrohir as he lay in his hammock, swaying gently as the ship slowly rocked from side to side. It had been a week since either of them had touched the other; Elrohir was reluctant to touch his twin as he had once done. It was the longest either of them had gone without kissing or touching in passion than either could remember. Elrohir lay upon his back, hands folded behind his head, staring at the ceiling. Elladan ached for him, but part of him was still afraid, and he knew his twin felt that fear, as surely as if it were his own.
"Elrohir… gwador…" he whispered.
Elrohir said nothing, nor did he turn to look at his elder twin. He merely held out his hand in unspoken invitation, and Elladan accepted, gracefully swinging up into the hammock with his twin. Their door was barred and they shared quarters with no one, so they would have some privacy for a little while.
Elladan rest his head upon Elrohir's chest, his hands lying upon his brother's shoulders. He listened to the steady, powerful rhythm of Elrohir's heart beating, and felt the slow rise and fall of his chest with each breath he took. He said nothing, his own heart's rhythm slightly faster, his own breathing slightly more irregular. Try as he might, images from his last night with his brother would not leave him alone, indeed, as they passed through the Paths of the Dead they wore heavy upon him. Ghostly voices called his name, called him a deviant, calling him his brother's whore.
As he lay in Elrohir's arms, he tried to forget, he wanted to forget; he knew his brother loved him more than life itself, but he couldn't shake the fear that had come with that night, with the brutality in which Elrohir had touched him. His beloved's scent filled his nostrils, earthy and clean and herbal. Elrohir always smelled so good to him, so pure. "Amin mela lle, Elrohir," he whispered, as his hands began stroking his brother's shoulders.
Elrohir began to tremble slightly, a soft moan escaping his lips. He could feel the all consuming love and desire he felt for Elladan raging inside him; he burned and ached for his brother's touch. "Amin mela lle, Elladan," he whispered in reply, and his hands slowly began to roam his brother's back, one drifting into his hair, the other down his back and over his buttocks.
Elladan tensed when his lover's hands ran over the swell of his buttocks, he couldn't help it. He clenched his eyes shut and silently admonished himself for his fear, for his lack of faith.
Elrohir closed his eyes, a sickening feeling settling into his very bones as he sensed his brother's fear. His hands slowly fell away as he felt tears begin to fall from his eyes.
"Avo daur, a'maelamin (Don't stop, beloved)…" Elladan whispered.
"You fear me," Elrohir answered. "I cannot touch you and have you be afraid. I cannot blame you, gwador, I understand why you are fearful."
"Make me forget, Elrohir, make me forget why I am afraid. I do not want to be afraid of you, I love you…" Elladan whispered. He slowly began to move against his brother, undulating his hips and running his hands up and down his arms.
Elrohir closed his eyes and swallowed, his twin's motion inflaming him, his own desire burning him from the inside out. "Amin mela lle, aniron lle, (I love you, I want you) Elladan."
"Im baur lle, gwador, saes…(I need you, brother, please)" Elladan rose and looked into Elrohir's eyes, seeing them already dark with need. He was still afraid, but his love for his brother and his need for him overrode the fear as he pressed his lips to Elrohir's waiting mouth. He moaned into the kiss, Elrohir's tongue tracing his lips and entering his hungry mouth. He whimpered as he felt his brother's arousal press into his stomach and his hands tangle in his hair.
Elrohir pulled Elladan's head back gently, looking into his eyes, searching for reluctance. "I cannot do this, Elladan…" he whispered, "I am afraid, I am afraid it will come back. I would rather die than hurt you, a'maelamin."
Elladan smiled gently at his beloved. "You will not hurt me, Elrohir. Please, do not make me beg…"
Elrohir gently guided his brother's mouth to his own, whispering against his lips, "Never, a'maelamin, never…"
~*~*~*~
March 13, 3019, Northern Mirkwood, Thranduil's Caves
Thranduil entered his chamber for his daily massage and stopped dead in his tracks. Sitting upon the edge of his bed, head bowed, hands folded in his lap, was what looked to be his son. "Greenleaf?" he whispered.
The young elf looked up at the King and stood quickly, bowing low before him, having been too lost in his own thoughts to hear him enter. "Forgive me, my Lord. I was lost in thought, I did not hear you enter." He flushed bright red at the embarrassing predicament he found himself in, sitting upon the King's bed. "My name is Ellegon, I am Agladir's assistant. He sent me to assist you."
Thranduil shook his head, gazing at the young male who looked so much like his beloved son when he was younger. He was tall and slight of build, elegant in form and manner; bright flaxen hair fell down his back in a single braid. He approached him and placed his fingers under his chin, turning the young elf's face up to his own and gazed into bright sapphire eyes. His face was flushed a becoming shade of pink and the King smiled. He was not as stunning as Legolas, but beautiful nonetheless. He spoke in a gentle tone, "You are embarrassed. Why so?"
Ellegon flushed brighter still and stammered, "I should not have been sitting upon your bed, my Lord. It just looked so comfortable and inviting, I only meant to touch it. Please forgive my impertinence."
Thranduil smiled at the luminous young male and released his chin. "No harm done, pen neth (young one)." He began removing the heavy velvet robes he wore, wincing as he pulled his arms back to slide them off.
Ellegon stepped forward and began assisting him, gingerly removing the King's robes and folding them upon a chair. He felt his face flush again as he regarded the King's nude form. He watched him move to the bed and lay upon his stomach and he gathered oils and bandages, joining him as he stood next to the bed. He carefully removed the bandage and smiled, a quiet sound of satisfaction slipping from him. "Your wound is much improved, my Lord. Outwardly it is healed, though I can see you still suffer some minor discomfort."
Thranduil chuckled and smiled. "You could say that…" He stretched some and grimaced, grumbling as pain coursed through his upper body. "Ai, I grow weary of this pain…"
Ellegon pulled out his oils and began rubbing his hands together, warming them. "I will rub your muscles, my Lord. Perhaps I can work some of the stiffness out of them." He was thankful for the oil as he felt his palms sweating in anticipation. He had long thought the King to be the most beautiful elf he had ever seen. He slowly began working the oil into the muscles of the King's back, leaning over the edge of the bed. He swallowed as he felt his arousal stir beneath his robes, the feel of the King's warm flesh beneath his hands almost more than he could bear.
"Mmm… you are an apt pupil, Ellegon, you work magic with your hands," Thranduil softly moaned. "I am beginning to feel better already."
Ellegon whispered, "Thank you, my Lord. It is my goal to serve you well and please you."
Thranduil yawned as his weariness began to overtake him, he had worked long and hard as of late formulating a plan to rid his beloved home of the Dark Lord's minions once and for all. "You do please me, pen neth. You please me very much," he whispered as he felt himself falling into reverie.
After Ellegon finished his massage he wiped his hands clean with a towel and removed the excess oil from his Lord's back. He leaned over and saw his fair face relaxed in reverie and he smiled, he did indeed execute his task well. He covered the King with a soft blanket and leaned over him. He could not stop himself from placing a soft kiss upon the King's cheek.
Thranduil was deep in reverie, dreaming of his beloved son. He felt the soft brush of silken hair upon his shoulder, and petal soft lips caress his cheek. "Greenleaf…" he whispered quietly as he dreamed dreams of loving his son.
~*~*~*~
March 10, 3019, Dunland
Glorfindel stretched and grasped his pack, whistling to Asfaloth as he prepared to continue his journey. He was but a few days from Imladris and wanted to make the best time he could, but neither he nor Asfaloth could go without rest or food. His loyal stallion trotted up to him, softly nickering and tossing his head in greeting. He affectionately rubbed the horse's face and swung aboard, cueing him to turn and gallop onward.
The stallion covered the ground swiftly, occasionally hopping over small obstacles that lie in their path. Glorfindel settled into Asfaloth's rhythm, his seat and legs moving surely with him, his head bent close to his flowing mane. His elven ears could only detect the steady beat of his hooves and the soft roar of his breathing. He had not seen a sign of Orcs or Uruks since leaving the Gap of Rohan and was relieved; he had begun to worry that Imladris had fallen under siege. He wondered what reason his Lord had to call him from Erestor's side before his errand was finished; it had been hard to leave him to journey on alone into what could be the most perilous part of his trip.
As he flew across the ground, he lost himself in thoughts of Erestor and the twins and prayed to the Valar that they were safe.
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