Title & Chapter Number: Tale of Two Brothers 29/33
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: Legolas and the twins try to recover from the battle of Pelennor Fields, Thranduil finds comfort in the arms of his healer.
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 15, 3019, Minas Tirith, Gondor
"Please, my Lord. You must let them take him now, do not let his body linger here in this place of death and defilement. They must prepare him for the journey home."
Éomer knelt beside his fallen uncle, tears streaming from his eyes, he had arrived but it was too late, Théoden and his beloved stallion, Snowmane, lay dead upon the fields of Pelennor. "Where is my sister? I was told she was here, that she was injured," his voice was barely above a whisper.
Legolas placed his hand upon the new King of Rohan's shoulder. "Aragorn is attending to her, she is in the Houses of Healing," he gently tugged upon the man's shoulder, "Come, my Lord, it is time." Éomer struggled to his feet with the help of the elf, allowing him to lead him to see his sister. "Hiro ho hîdh ab'wanath (May you find peace after death)," he whispered over the fallen body of the valiant King. Legolas walked beside Éomer solemnly, a supporting hand upon his back. **So much death, so much loss to bear in so short a life…** he thought as they picked their way among the fallen. **May Eru protect us in this trial, may the sacrifice not be made in vain, may we see victory…**
"When do we ride?" Éomer asked quietly as they approached the Houses of Healing.
Legolas looked skyward and answered quietly, "But a week from now, it will take time to gather our troops and rearm ourselves for the final assault."
"What hope do we have of defeating the Dark Lord?" the man asked sadly.
Legolas stopped him and smiled as bravely as he could manage. "There is always hope, my Lord, without it, all would be lost."
Éomer nodded and turned to enter the Houses of Healing, leaving Legolas outside with his thoughts.
~*~*~*~
Elladan held Elrohir in his arms, his younger brother's head tucked underneath his chin. He absently ran his fingers through his twin's sable locks as they stared out at the devastation that Sauron's minions had wrought. The battle of Pelennor Fields had been won, but at a high cost. Countless numbers of their comrades from Arnor, Gondor, and Rohan lay dead, large numbers of Dunédain and elves had perished in the battle.
In this time of grief, no one took notice of the twins and the moment they shared. Elladan sat on the ground leaning against a great tree; his brother lay between his legs, arms around his waist, head beneath his chin. Elladan swallowed as he felt the warmth and love flow from Elrohir to him. He wanted to touch him, to kiss him, to love him until neither of them felt pain any longer, but they could not; there were too many prying eyes, too much risk of being caught together. "Amin mela lle, Elrohir" he whispered in a voice so low that no man could hear them.
"Amin mela lle, Elladan," Elrohir whispered in return.
They sat quietly as the bodies were separated, carcasses of Orcs and Uruk-hai to be burned, the bodies of men to be buried, and the bodies of their own kin to be set upon a funeral pyre. Neither said another word, at that moment, there were no words to be said.
~*~*~*~
March 15, 3019, Thranduil's Caves, Mirkwood
"Greenleaf…" Thranduil whispered. He was just waking from the first quiet night's sleep he had since he was injured, the stubborn fever had finally abated.
Ellegon brushed the hair from his beloved King's face with the back of his hand. He had not left him alone since his injury; he had spent every waking moment attending to the King, and had slept beside him in the bed. He smiled when the King's sapphire eyes opened and met his own. "Good morn, my Lord. You have been asleep for quite awhile."
Thranduil blinked back from reverie, he had been dreaming about his son. For a brief moment, he thought Legolas was there, and he reached up and touched the young elf's face. He noted the blush upon his cheek and the gentle press of his face into his hand and realized it was not his beloved. "Ellegon, have you been with me all this time?"
The young elf blushed again. "Aye, my Lord. You were suffering from fever, I did not want to leave you alone."
Even in his tired state, he could see the young elf was taken with him, it was made plain by his flushed expression. He allowed his hand to linger there, his thumb softly stroking the fine cheekbone; the young elf's smile warmed his tired heart. "Thank you for your dedicated care and loyal service, Ellegon. It will not be soon forgotten." Ellegon nodded and moved to rise, interpreting the King's words as his signal to leave.
What possessed Thranduil to do what he did next he did not know. Instead of releasing the young man, he slid his hand around the back of his neck and pulled him downward, pressing his lips to those of the young healer in a gentle kiss.
Ellegon gasped quietly and closed his eyes. The King's lips were remarkably soft and warm, pliant and decadently sensuous. He felt himself lean into the kiss, his hands planted on each side of his beloved Lord, holding his weight off the King's body. He opened his mouth to the teasing strokes of Thranduil's tongue and whimpered quietly as that tongue slid inside his mouth, gently tasting him.
Thranduil lost himself in the silken sweetness of the young elf; the healer was an innocent, he could taste it. His was the first pair of lips to touch him; he was the first to taste his honeyed mouth. **Aaahhh, Gods, there is nothing like touching the untouched, tasting virgin flesh…** his mind answered. It had been long since he had done so, the last being his own son. That part of his being that craved the silken flesh of his own sex, that hungered for the untouched, overrode his heart, his mind, and for the moment, he took what was so freely offered, what he had not taken in longer than he could remember.
Ellegon moaned quietly, allowing the King to taste what no other had, allowing him to take what he had offered no one else. He had been secretly in love with the King for longer than he cared to admit, since before he was old enough to understand his feelings himself. He felt his Lord's strong hands caress his back, one hand sliding into his hair and the other over the swell of his buttocks. He whimpered into the kiss as that hand gave him a gentle squeeze, and he felt his arousal twitch beneath his robe as it swelled under the velvet folds. His thin arms trembled from the strain of holding himself in such an awkward position, and he felt the gentle press of the King's hand upon his back, encouraging him to come to rest upon his broad chest. They broke from the kiss and he quietly gasped for air, hovering over his King's beautiful face and gazing into eyes that were a shade darker than when he awoke. "My Lord, I do not want to hurt you… you are still injured, you…"
Thranduil smiled gently and caressed the lovely elf's face. "Forgive me, Ellegon, I was so taken by your beauty, I should not have presumed to take such liberties with you." He ran his thumb over the young healer's lips. "If this is not what you want, or you are not prepared to enter into such an arrangement, then please do not feel you must comply, just because I am your King. I would not take anything you did not willingly give," he smiled seductively, "But do not worry about me, I am well aware of my own limits. Your sweet lips have done more to rejuvenate me then all the medicines in our stores."
Ellegon stared into his blue eyes, knowing he should resist, knowing he should rise from the bed and insist the King get some rest, but he wanted him so badly. He wanted to feel his weight press him into the bed, his powerful hands upon his body, wringing moans and cries from him. He heard his voice come from outside himself as he answered, "I willingly give what ever you would have of me, my Lord."
Thranduil pulled him to the bed and covered his lithe form with his own. The young elf trembled beneath him and he slowly rocked his swollen arousal into Ellegon's. "I would give you this, and take more, if you are willing," he whispered seductively, "I would give you more pleasure than you dreamed possible, and take all that you have to give, nín bain (my beauty)."
Ellegon gasped as he felt the King's fingers work the clasps on his robes, pulling the fabric open to expose his lean torso. He moaned and arched into Thranduil's touch, pressing his chest into the King's hands, his very flesh burning with want. The King sat up and pulled him to a sitting position, skillfully stripping him of his robes, sliding them off his shoulders as they pooled around his waist.
"You are beautiful, Ellegon, so like my…" he caught himself before he finished his thought, instead, bringing his lips to the young elf's ear. He gently caressed the fine curve before concentrating on the point. He felt the Ellegon's hands trembling upon his shoulders, his soft moans and sighs travelling from his ears to his arousal. He wanted to bury himself in the healer's tight heat, to wring moans and screams from his lithe young form. He wanted to take his innocence and give him ecstasy in return; he wanted to show him the ways of pleasure and the flesh. "Touch me pen neth (young one), do not be afraid," he whispered.
Ellegon ran his hands over the powerful shoulders of his King, his fingers tracing the bandage that covered the wound the Orc arrow left. Thranduil's lips caressed his neck, tasting him, consuming him, and his own impossibly hard arousal throbbed and wept against the sheets. Only a thin layer of silk existed between them, a flimsy barrier that stood between his innocence and his greatest desire.
A knock upon the door interrupted their exploration of one another. The King grumbled his discontent as he rose from the bed, wrapping his robe around his powerful form. He placed one hand upon the post of his bed to steady himself as he stood, still a bit weak from his ordeal, and his young lover moved to help him. He smiled and placed his hand up, instructing Ellegon to stay in the bed.
He opened the door, the look on his face expressing his irritation. His chief healer, Agladir, stood at the door and bowed his head in respect, not expecting to see the King himself open it. He stammered, "My Lord, I… I did not expect to see you rise so soon… I came to check on your progress, Ellegon has not returned since you were brought inside."
Thranduil held the door close, blocking Agladir's view. "Ellegon has been with me since I was brought in. You have trained him well, Agladir; he has done a great service to me. As you can see, I am healing rapidly. How are my soldiers?"
Agladir smiled. "Most are healing well, my Lord. A few will take a bit longer."
Thranduil sighed, "That is a relief. Now, if you will excuse me I should return to bed before I earn my healer's wrath."
Agladir bowed again and backed away from the door. "As you wish, my Lord. Please forgive the… intrusion."
Thranduil furrowed his brow as he watched his healer leave and closed the door, securely latching it behind him. He turned and slowly moved toward the bed, admiring his young lover. Ellegon's hair was mussed, his braids haphazardly falling about his face. His blue eyes were darkened with lust and the sheets lay in a pile about his narrow waist. The King could see the evidence of his efforts between the legs of the young beauty, and he smiled. **Forgive me, Iôn, but it has been so very long…** he thought to himself as he removed his robe and crawled upon the bed.
Erestor had not needed to tell him what had passed between him and Legolas; he had seen it in the Counselor's eyes. He and Legolas had never begrudged one another for seeking solace in another's bed when they were apart, and Ellegon would make a fitting substitute, since he looked so much like his beloved Greenleaf.
Ellegon reached for his Lord as he climbed upon the bed, enfolding his powerful body in his long arms and sliding down into the soft bedding. He moaned quietly and gasped in delight as his King's mouth and hands explored his untried flesh, raising gooseflesh over his arms, chest, and thighs. He cried out as the King's mouth latched upon one pebbled nipple, skillfully working the sensitized nub between his lips and teeth, flicking the tip of his tongue across it and causing the young elf to writhe beneath him.
"Saes, hir nín, Im baur lle (Please, my Lord, I need you)…" he whispered breathlessly, his arousal feeling as though it would explode at any moment. He groaned and whimpered as his King's fingers danced across the quivering length of his engorged desire, and he spread his legs further apart, offering himself to his Lord. He felt Thranduil's hand slide down his abdomen, fingers trailing along the crease between hip and thigh, gently caressing the soft pouch of skin that grew beneath his arousal before circling his entrance.
Thranduil felt Ellegon's untried body tense when he touched that most intimate of places and he whispered reassuring words in the young elf's ear as he continued to softly massage his entrance with the pad of his forefinger. "Sshhh…lirimaer (lovely one), I will do nothing you do not want me to do," he nuzzled the young elf's ear, wanting him so bad he could taste it. His mouth left the beauty's ear, slowly working its way down his torso. Ellegon groaned as he pressed his mouth into his navel, probing with his tongue, his fingers still encircling and massaging his entrance. His mouth continued lower, nudging the healer's arousal aside, his warm tongue lapping at the soft pouch before continuing further back, flicking at the puckered entrance.
Ellegon cried out and arched against his lover, spreading his legs wider as he wadded the covers in his fists. As he felt the King's tongue breach his virgin entrance his arousal twitched, arcing hard against his stomach as the first signs of his release began to leak from him. He pleaded for contact with his over sensitized flesh, the insistent throbbing and pulsating sensation driving him closer to release. "Saes…" his voice was barely more than a whisper, tears streaming from his eyes, his body painfully alive, every inch of his flesh burning with want.
Thranduil closed his eyes, savoring the pleading whispers, the trembling of his young body, as his tongue slicked the virgin entrance. "Ask me, pen neth, ask me for what it is that you desire," he whispered.
"Touch me, hir nín, I need to feel your hands upon me. Saes…" he pleaded again, his arousal pulsating painfully against his stomach.
Thranduil smiled and drew his tongue along the underside of the healer's arousal as the young elf cried out and arched again, breathless with want, his musical voice moaning his name. He enveloped the hot length as the young elf's seed erupted into his mouth, swallowing each drop as it ebbed from him. He lingered between Ellegon's legs, languidly cleaning his softening length with his tongue.
"I am sorry, my Lord," the young elf croaked.
He raised to his elbows and stroked the young elf's stomach softly with his hand. "Sorry for what, nín bain (my beauty)?"
"I did not mean to… I tried to…" Ellegon blushed, his face heated with embarrassment for his lack of control.
Thranduil smiled and drew up next to his young lover, brushing the hair back from his face as he smiled. "You are young still, Ellegon. You have much to learn about ways of the flesh," he drew his finger along the young beauty's jaw, "I will teach you, if you allow me."
Ellegon gazed at his lover beneath weighted lids, a sleepy, contented smile upon his face. "I would be honored to be your student, my Lord."
The King nuzzled his ear and whispered, "Sleep, lirimaer, there will be time for more instruction later." He gathered his young lover in his arms and closed his eyes, ignoring the insistent ache in his loins; there would be time for that later. He fell into reverie with his young pupil as he stroked his hair and dreamed of his son.
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