Title & Chapter Number: Tale of Two Brothers 30/33
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: Thranduil deflowers his healer and loses a lover; the assault begins on Dol Guldur; the Dark Lord is overthrown.
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 16, 3019, Thranduil's Caves, Mirkwood
Ellegon awoke in his Lord's arms, his head on his uninjured shoulder, one arm across his broad chest, and one leg insinuated between those of his lover. It was early morning, the sun had not risen yet, and he lay very still, not wanting to wake his King. He smiled as he remembered the night's activities, Thranduil's touch, his mouth… Never had the young healer felt more complete or happier. He felt his radiant lover shift beneath him, a quiet moan escaping his lips. He snuggled closer, pressing his lithe form against the King's larger one, inclining his head so that his lips caressed his Lord's ear.
Thranduil moaned softly, his hands pressing the lithe body that lay next to him closer, his insatiable body awaking with hunger. "Legolas…" he whispered as he returned from reverie, blinking his eyes as the fog of sleep left them. He turned his head and gazed into the sparkling eyes of his healer and smiled. "Good morning, Ellegon," he said softly.
Ellegon rose to his elbows, his lips hovering near the golden King's. "Good morning, my Lord. Did you sleep well?"
Thranduil smiled broadly. "Aye, very well indeed, to have you with me provided me much comfort, my young beauty." His lips caressed those of the young healer, pressing a soft kiss to his hungrily waiting mouth.
Ellegon smiled and caressed the King's face. "You were dreaming, my Lord, dreaming of your son."
Thranduil's eyes widened for a brief moment before he covered his uneasiness with a smile. "I was? How do you know this?"
The young healer nuzzled the King's cheek and whispered, "You said his name as you woke."
Thranduil was amazed at Ellegon's complete innocence, how he did not make the connection between his current physical state and the object of his dreaming. "I do miss him, and I worry for him. `Tis a dangerous quest he is on."
Ellegon nodded, his expression turned grave. "It must be hard for you, my Lord. You and the Prince have always been so close."
Thranduil ran his hand into his young lover's hair, guiding his face closer and his lips to his own. "No more difficult than any other father. Surely you were close with your father."
Ellegon closed his eyes and sighed, the King's silken lips caressing his own, inflaming his desire. "My father died when I was young, my Lord. I never had the opportunity to really know him."
Thranduil pulled back, his brow furrowed and his voice laden with sadness. "How? How did he die, pen neth (young one)?"
Ellegon smiled wistfully. "He was killed by warg riders on the Western border of the wood, near the Great Forest Road. He was on patrol."
Thranduil caressed the young beauty's face with his hand. "Your father was one of my border guard?"
Ellegon nodded. "Aye, my Lord. That is why I became a healer. I wanted to be a soldier like him, but after he died, my mother made me swear I would never bear arms. She said she could not bear to lose us both. I wanted to serve you in some way, my father was always so proud of his position in your army, so proud to be one of your subjects. So I took up the healing arts, and found it was something I had a talent for."
Thranduil fought back a tear as he took his young lover's face in his hands, drawing his lips closer and whispering against them, "I am sorry, melethron, I did not know. I am grateful you chose the path you did, for if you had not you would not be here, in my bed now. To lose one as beautiful and kind as you would be too great a loss."
Ellegon sighed and quietly moaned as his lover-King pressed his lips to his own, the King's tongue teasing them apart before tasting of him again. He felt his own desire ignite as he slid his lithe form on top of his lover's, spreading his legs and rolling his hips downward, sliding his own burgeoning arousal against that of his King.
The young beauty's soft sighs and moans inflamed Thranduil's desire, as yet unstated from the night before. He moaned as Ellegon's lips left his own, leaving a warm silken trail down his neck. He arched his back pressing his chest into the young beauty's mouth, hissing as Ellegon took one of the rings that pierced his nipple between his lips, gently fondling it against his tongue. "Aaahh, yes, nín bain (my beauty), you mouth is magic, melethron nín."
Ellegon purred in satisfaction, his lover's powerful body flexing and arching beneath him, his words feeding the flames of his own need. He moved lower, his mouth pressing into the King's rippled abdomen, his lips brushing through the down-like hair that grew about his arousal. He gazed up at his golden lover and whispered. "I have never done this, my Lord. I want to please you, so very much."
Thranduil smiled, the need within him demanding release. "Do not fear, pen neth, you will not disappoint me, just do what comes naturally, follow your body's instruction."
Ellegon smiled, his eyes dark with desire. He nuzzled the King's arousal, smiling as he heard the deep rumble in his chest. He caressed his heated length with his tongue and lips, suckling the weeping tip before tentatively taking him in his mouth.
Thranduil struggled to hold still, that unbelievably soft, warm, sweet mouth doing unmentionable things, teasing, tasting, tormenting. He burned and ached, waking dreams of covering the young beauty's lithe form with his own, thrusting into his tight heat crowding his thoughts. He gently caressed Ellegon's flaxen hair with his hands, slowly, gently beginning to roll his hips up into the youth's warm embrace. He struggled to regulate his breathing as that warm mouth left his arousal, those soft, silken lips caressing the skin that lay beneath before returning to its task. It went on forever, the slow building burn of need and want, the soft sighs and gentle purrs resonating along his heated length. He caught himself pleading with his young lover, a single word passing in a whisper past his lips, "Saes…" Ellegon grew braver, sucking now, swallowing, intensifying his efforts, desiring to bring his lover to release. Thranduil felt his release building, and he whispered, "Swallow, melethron, taste me."
Ellegon began swallowing as his lover spilled into his mouth, feeling the salty-sweet essence flood his mouth. He blinked as he felt a slight stinging sensation in the back of his throat as he endeavored to take it all, finally relaxing as his lover's heated flesh slid from his mouth. He looked at the glimmering drops that continued to ebb from his Lord's slackening arousal and he hungrily lapped them up, his tongue caressing the warm soft flesh in long slow strokes.
Thranduil closed his eyes and smiled in satisfaction, the warm caresses of the healer's tongue causing him to shudder intermittently as his desire abated. "Very good, nín bain, very good indeed," he crooned, feeling the press of Ellegon's cheek against his hip as he trailed his fingers through the young elf's hair.
Ellegon slid back up his lover's body, caressing Thranduil's face with his long fingers. "Did I please you, my Lord?" he whispered silkily.
Thranduil chuckled softly and tangled his fingers in Ellegon's flaxen mane. "Aye, melethron, you did." He ran the back of his hand down the young elf's chest, taking his arousal in his hand. "Now it is time for me to return the favor." Ellegon's eyes fluttered shut as he whimpered with need. "Lay on your stomach, lirimaer (lovely one)." He whispered.
Ellegon lay upon his stomach, his arms folded and hands beneath his head. He felt the bed sink beneath him as the King kneeled over him, his strong hands caressing his back and gently kneading his buttocks. The King guided his hips off the bed as a plump pillow was tucked underneath him and he felt a tremor of nervousness wrack his small frame. Oil dripped across his buttocks and he gasped, a small whimper escaping his lips. His arousal pressed against the soft silk of the pillow and began to throb incessantly.
Thranduil whispered, "Ssshh, pen neth, relax, I promise you will come to crave this."
Ellegon felt his buttocks separated gently, a single finger massaging his entrance, sliding effortlessly across his most intimate place. He gasped for air as that finger slowly breached his body, twisting and gently probing. "Ai!" he cried out softly, willing himself to relax.
Thranduil stroked his back with his free hand. "Try to relax, nín bain. I promise the pain will turn to pleasure soon enough."
Ellegon squeezed his eyes shut against the stinging tears that threatened to fall; his arousal throbbed painfully against his stomach as he whimpered beneath the gentle probing. A second finger was added as he cried out again, no longer to hold back the tears that streamed from his eyes. White-hot fire erupted through his body as he arched his back crying out again as the King found his mark.
"Now, is that not worth it, lirimaer?" the King crooned.
"Ai, yes, yes, my Lord," he moaned, his body painfully alive with want. "Saes, my Lord, Im baur…"
Thranduil placed his oiled arousal at the young elf's entrance, whispering gently, "You must relax, melethron, if you do, you will know great pleasure." He pushed inside slowly, stretching, opening the young healer's body as he cried out in pain. "Sssh, nín bain, breathe, relax, it will get better I promise." He struggled to regulate his own breathing, the unbelievably thigh heat almost undoing him. "Ai, Ellegon, you are so tight, so delicious, melethron," he growled as he waited, his self-control being pushed to its limits as he waited for his lover to open to him. He gently stroked his back, his hand reaching beneath the healer's body and taking his arousal, stroking it gently and slowly. He heard his lover begin to moan as his body relaxed, and he felt him gently rock against him, slowly starting to push back. He began to move, thrusting into his velvet heat, slowly, shallowly at first, before flexing his hips and driving deeper. He groaned as he struck his mark again, his lover's body arching and bucking back against him, the motion almost undoing him. Deeper and deeper he thrust, his pace quickening, his angle increasing until he struck his target with each thrust. Ellegon cried out his release, spilling himself over his hand, causing Thranduil to tumble over the edge, as he threw his head back and groaned his own climax, spilling himself inside his young lover's body.
Ellegon whimpered as he slowly withdrew, the sudden feeling of being empty causing his head to swim. He sighed as Thranduil gathered him into his arms and held him close, and he wrapped his long arms around him, burying his face in his chest. "Amin mela lle, my Lord." He whispered quietly as he squeezed the King tight, knowing his words were not spoken loud enough for the King's ears to register.
"Sleep now, nín bain. Take your rest in my arms," Thranduil whispered, stroking the young elf's hair as he listened to his breathing.
~*~*~*~
March 25, 3019, Southern Mirkwood
Ellegon ran alongside the other healers at the rear of the assault column. All of Thranduil's army charged through the forest, joined by forces from Lothlórien. Only a skeleton crew remained behind to protect the caves. His beloved King rode alongside Celeborn and Galadriel, Lord Erestor followed close behind. The assault on Dol Guldur was about to begin and he had insisted on coming, healers would be needed in this great battle, and he would not leave his lover's side. He had spent every day and night of the last week in his beloved King's bed, making love to him, caring for him. He would do anything for the Golden King.
The clash of armor rang in his ears along with the shouts of the soldiers. He remained behind the battle with the other healers, caring for those who were injured. The battle was fierce but short, Galadriel cast down Dol Guldur with the power of her ring. Ellegon climbed a tree, trying to catch a glimpse of his lover. Thranduil sat astride his black stallion, firing arrows with deadly accuracy and speed. A few of Sauron's minions tried to escape after the fortress was destroyed and Thranduil chased a warg rider down, removing the Orc's head with his broadsword. The King turned to see who remained standing when he caught the vision of his young lover in the tree. He smiled and raised his sword in triumph and Ellegon smiled in return, waiving his hand.
Shouts broke out beneath him and he looked down to see that a few stragglers had broken through the lines, determined to finish off those they could before going to their own deaths. Thranduil called to him as he sent his horse forward, galloping toward where the injured lay.
"Ellegon!" the King called, but it was too late. He watched as the black arrow pierced the healer's chest and his lithe form fell from the tree. He killed with a vengeance, driven by blind rage. He leapt from his horse, rushing to his fallen lover's side, kneeling in the dirt beside him. He held his limp body in his arms and cried out in anguish as his tears fell upon the young elf's lifeless face.
~*~*~*~
"Thranduil, mellon nín, you must release him now," Erestor whispered to his good friend, "he is gone."
Thranduil stroked the flaxen hair from his lover's still beautiful face. "He loved me, Erestor. He only ever wanted to love me, and now because of me, he is dead."
Erestor knelt beside his friend, "No, mellon, not because of you, because of Sauron. Do not carry this burden on your shoulders alone." He gently tugged upon his cloak, "Please, Thranduil, we must return to the caves."
The King rose, cradling Ellegon's body in his arms. He mounted his horse, riding back to the palace, holding his dead lover before him.
~*~*~*~
March 25, 3019, Udûn, Mordor
Aragorn dropped to his knees in exhaustion, Narsil's blade glowing with black and red blood. It was over; the Dark Lord was overthrown. He wondered where Frodo and Sam were, did they perish with the ring or were they still alive? He felt a comforting hand upon his shoulder and gazed up into Legolas' sapphire eyes, and he smiled.
"The Dark Lord is no more, Estel," the elf whispered, "Your destiny is realized. You are free now, Elessar."
"I could not have done it without you, Legolas, mellon nín." The King of Men whispered.
Legolas smiled wryly and softly replied, "Yes you could have, and you would have." He patted the man's shoulder and slowly turned, walking away.
Gimli clasped his shoulder and smiled knowingly, turning and joining his tall friend as they left the battle plain.
Aragorn slowly rose to his feet and turned to meet the pewter gaze of Elrond Peredhil. The elf Lord shined as if he had some inner light within him, even through the blood and grime that coated his armor and fine features. The elf Lord said nothing, merely nodded and smiled, pride evident in his sparkling pewter gaze. "Le hannon, hir nín (Thank you, my Lord)," he whispered.
Elrond flashed a disarming smile. "You did what I knew you would, Aragorn. Your path is clearer now, is it not?"
Aragorn smiled, if felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. "Aye, adar, it truly is."
Elrond embraced his foster son, and held him tight for a few moments. He spoke softly in his ear, "There is much to do, Aragorn. Come, let us see who still remains. We have dead to bury."
~*~*~*~
Elrohir knelt over his brother, brushing the sable hair from his pale face. "Elladan? Saes, gwador, wake." He looked skyward, the black clouds that had belched from the mountain of fire finally clearing. He whispered to the Valar, "Do not take him from me… I cannot live without him, if you are to take him, take me as well…" He looked back upon Elladan's pale form, blood and grime marring his beautiful face. He lifted his brother into his arms and carried him from the battle plain toward the camp, as men parted, clearing a path for him as he walked steadfastly. He felt Elladan's spirit in his body still, but it was weak, he felt his brother's lifeblood seeping through his armor into his own tunic.
He turned to Halbarad, "Get my father."
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