Title & Chapter Number: The Color of Love Trilogy 1: Thought You Were History 2/2
Author(s): - Author's Index
Website: Hith a Naur
Fandom: Tolkien
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: No money, no suey
Warnings: None
Betas: Silvara, the most wonderful beta in existence
Cast: Elrond/Thranduil, Elrond/Erestor implied
Timeline: Winter of 2510 TA
Spoilers: None
Summary: After Celebrian sets sail, Elrond recalls times when he was with the one he loved before the Last Alliance which drove them apart.
Notes: This came to me, actually, while listening to Celine Dion's "It's All Coming Back to Me Now" -- it is the first in a trilogy. Each based on a song I heard that brought about the story.
They would be going to war soon. A great Alliance had been forged, and the Elves would rally with the Men to help save Middle-Earth. But tonight, the preparations for war were put on hold. Tonight, there was no threat of impending doom; no Shadow loomed, ready to devour all Arda. Tonight was the Winter Solstice, a celebration of rebirth, marking the time when the day would begin to again take dominion over the night. There was feasting and singing and dancing, but for Elrond and Thranduil, alone in the darkened room they had shared for so long, there was only each other and the soft quiet of winter in Imladris.
It was to be the last night they would share together for a long time. Elrond would be marching with Gil-Galad's army, but Thranduil was returning to Greenwood the Great to join with his father before setting out for Mordor with that army. So, both Elves had decided that tonight had better count.
And they were wasting no time. Their clothes lay in rags strewn across the floor, ripped to shreds as the lovers tore at each other in their passion and haste. Their smooth, naked skin was pressed together in a heated embrace as their mouths locked, tongues swirling, twining together in a kiss that seemed to stop time. Hands, calloused from centuries of use with bow and sword, roamed freely across bare backs, chests, thighs, and butts.
As if they shared one mind, the two slid their hands down the other's body in the same moment, and wrapped their fingers delicately around the other's rigid cock. The kiss was broken as the two gasped their pleasure at the contact. Thranduil leaned down to kiss Elrond's neck and throat, as his hand stroked Elrond's firm shaft. Elrond responded ardently, nipping at Thranduil's shoulder as his own hand moved to cup Thranduil's tight sack and massaged the weighty orbs within.
Thranduil turned Elrond around in his arms, pulling his chest against Elrond's back. He felt his cock nestle against Elrond's ass as he reached around and gripped the elder Elf's ample erection and stroked it vigorously. Elrond's hands squeezed Thranduil's behind, and he leaned his head back to capture Thranduil's mouth in another breathless kiss.
The motion of Thranduil's hand on his staff was driving Elrond mad with desire. Before his passion reached the breaking point, though, he took control of the situation. He turned around and put his hands on Thranduil's shoulders, pushing him backward and down onto the bed. The Herald continued moving with a cat-like agility, sliding down Thranduil's body and plunging his mouth down over his love's firm rod.
Thranduil's head snapped back as his hands gripped the bedclothes. Elrond's mouth drew him in completely, using his tongue to explore every inch of the Elf's hardness while his hands massaged Thranduil's hips and thighs, pinning him to the bed. When Thranduil began to thrash about from the maddeningly slow teasing, Elrond obliged by bobbing his head up and down.
His lover began to grunt in sync with the motion, lifting himself onto his elbows to meet Elrond's eyes. The look of love that met his gaze only redoubled his arousal. His hips began to buck and thrust against Elrond, driving his pulsing cock into Elrond's wet and hungry mouth in a frenzy that did not let up until the wave of orgasm crashed over him. He felt the tingling twitch of the gurthelle pulse through him; felt his juices spill into Elrond's mouth as his body moved of its own accord and his breath was ripped from him in ragged gasps.
Elrond felt Thranduil's fingers underneath his chin, lifting his head as Thranduil sat up. The Mirkwood Prince tilted his head and kissed Elrond sweetly on the corner of the mouth, trailing his fingertips lightly across Elrond's chest. His voice was just above a whisper when he said, "I ache to feel you inside me, melethron."
The words sent shivers through Elrond's body. But they were nothing compared to the trembling that he felt at the sight of Thranduil positioning himself on knees and elbows, presenting his beautiful hindquarters to Elrond, and looking back over his shoulder at his love.
Elrond's cock throbbed in anticipation, but the Herald of Imladris forced himself to go slowly. The lovers always kept a phial of oil in the room to be used as lubrication, and it was this that Elrond reached for first. He removed the stopper, releasing the scent of lavender into the room. Dipping two fingers into the bottle, he then replaced the stopper and set the phial aside. He used his fingers to spread the oil across the tender opening Thranduil was offering to him. Gently, he eased one finger inside, followed by the second, making sure that the entire passage was well-lubricated.
Thranduil moaned in pleasure at the feeling. He quelled the natural instinct to tense, forcing his body to relax and accept the invasion of Elrond's fingers. Elrond was slowly moving his fingers in and out, coaxing the puckered flesh to widen in preparation. Thranduil felt tingles shooting through his body, especially his spent erection. While it was too soon for his body to allow him to become hard again, Thranduil nevertheless relished the sensations.
When Thranduil's body was ready, Elrond poured a generous amount of the oil into his cupped hand, rubbing it along his tight shaft, taking care to lubricate the tip especially well. He gripped his cock at the base and guided it into the waiting entrance, using his other hand on Thranduil's ass to steady himself. He eased himself into his lover, pushing forward a little at a time until he could feel his entire length being gripped by Thranduil's warmth.
The Prince gasped as Elrond entered him, then exhaled slowly, relaxing his body by inches in order to accept all of Elrond's staff inside him. When he could feel Elrond's thighs pressing against his ass, Thranduil pulled himself up onto his hands and began to rock forward and back against Elrond, repeatedly impaling himself onto his lover's arousal. He moaned with each thrust, sometimes moving his hips in a circle, sometimes slamming back against Elrond's thighs in a powerful motion, altering speed and direction in his wantonness.
Elrond gripped Thranduil's hips, but let the younger Elf do most of the work. He was very surprised at Thranduil's actions, as Elrond generally controlled the motion when they were coupled like this. This was a definite change, but Elrond's body was shaking with such a fire of passion that he was in no mood to argue.
The first hints of orgasm took him by surprise, so quickly did they come upon him. Elrond called out in rapture, and Thranduil responded by moving his body faster, even clenching and relaxing the muscles in his ass, which only spurred Elrond to louder cries of pleasure. He squeezed his eyes shut, points of color flaring across his field of vision. His hands clamped down on Thranduil's hips so tightly he felt his nails digging into the Elf's skin. But Thranduil did not ease his assault. Only when Elrond screamed and emptied himself into Thranduil in great pulsing spurts did the Mirkwood royal cease his ministrations. Elrond fell forward, laying his cheek against Thranduil's back, swallowing large gulps of air in an attempt to catch his breath.
They lay like that for some time before kicking off the soiled bedclothes and curling up together for one final sleep before the overlord Sauron claimed their love as one more of his victims.
~*~*~*~
Elrond shifted in his seat, stretching his back slightly. His head was pounding. He had too much to drink the night before at the festival. The Elf-lord smiled as he remembered dancing with both his Seneschal and his Chief Councilor. For just a few hours he had forgotten all about Celebrian and Thranduil. He was sure the three of them had received many odd looks.
He was pulled from his thoughts when that Chief Councilor quietly walked into the study. Elrond looked up and smiled at the pale, dark-eyed Noldo. "Good afternoon, Erestor."
Erestor nodded to his employer and then took a seat across the study, crossing his legs and leaning back into the chair. "Elrond, we need to have a talk."
Elrond cocked his head, his heart racing a little. "Usually when a conversation begins this way, meldir, the discussion is not a positive topic."
Erestor's lips curled up slightly at the corners, his eyes lighting with amusement. "I am sure, my Lord, that this conversation will not end with you thanking me for bringing it to your attention."
Elrond stood and walked slowly toward the slender Elf who had liquid ink eyes, crossing his arms as he went. "What has happened, Erestor?"
"Last night, while you were dancing with Glorfindel, I got a look at our emerald-eyed guest. Have you wondered why he is here, brūnmeleth-nīn?"
The Peredhil smiled, pleasant memories of the brief affair he and Erestor had shared flooding his mind. The Noldo had comforted Elrond in the wake of Thranduil and it ended when Celeborn had sought Elrond for his daughter. "I figured he felt guilt of some kind, A'maelamin."
Erestor's cheeks colored slightly at the familiar term his Lord had not used in centuries. "You are right... somewhat. He does feel guilt, but I do not think that the guilt is the driving force behind his trip here."
"Erestor, I am growing tired of this. Either tell me or leave it."
"He still loves you, meleth. It is visible every time he looks at you, even though he avoids you as much as he can. I am sure that is so no one, especially you, notices the feelings he hides. He perhaps even hides them from himself. But, they are there and they should be addressed. Perhaps," Erestor said as he stood, coming nose to nose with his old lover, "it is time to allow the wounds to heal."
Elrond took a deep breath, inhaling Erestor's warm scent. He always loved the clean, spring scent that seemed to follow the Noldo everywhere. He could not resist. The Elf-lord leaned in and let his lips softly brush his Councilor's, enjoying the soft and warm lips he had long ago ravished. Erestor pulled back, bringing his hand to his lips.
"Elrond, as much as you tempt me, this will not work. It didn't work then, it will not work now. You love him. You always have. And he does love you. Now is the time. Find out why he left you that long ago, why he hurt you so deeply. My heart has healed since you, my Lord, and I do not wish to reopen that wound with no salve in sight." Erestor let the hand that had touched his lips touch Elrond's cheek, gently brushing as a nostalgic smile crossed his lips.
Then he was gone from the room.
~*~*~*~
Elrond wove through the halls of his home, making his way to the guest chamber Thanduil occupied at the moment. The King had taken to residing in his chambers unless forced to keep company with the members of Elrond's family. The words Erestor had said echoed through his mind. Yes, he loved Thranduil. Always had. But, Thranduil had left him.
And Erestor had picked up the pieces. He had given him reason not to give up. From the tone of Erestor's voice and the way he had lowered his eyes as he left the study, Elrond knew he had to speak at length with his friend. He had hurt him much more than the Councilor had ever let him know. He needed to reconcile with him. As soon as he was done with Thranduil.
He knocked hard on the wooden door, breathing rapidly and trying to calm his racing heart. His breath caught in his throat when the door opened and revealed Thanduil wearing leggings and a simple tunic.
"Elrond?"
"We need to talk." He pushed past Thranduil and entered the main chamber of the suite Thranduil had been given. Elrond put his hands on his hips and turned to face the bane of his life.
Thranduil closed the door and slowly approached the agitated Lord. "What about, Elrond?"
"You and I, meldir. It was... brought to my attention... that perhaps there are unresolved feelings between us."
Thranduil sighed, crossing his arms. "Erestor never could keep to himself, could he?"
Lightning flashed in Elrond's eyes and his lowered his voice to a hiss. "Erestor cares more for me than you *ever* did, Thranduil."
"I am sure he does. Tell me something, Lord Elrond. Does Erestor warm your bed on the days that Glorfindel is out riding and cannot do it himself?"
Elrond advanced on the King, his eyes narrowing in menace. "You forget yourself, *Lord* Thranduil. You are in Imladris. You are *my* guest. You have no right to question what goes on in my bed or in my lands. Here, you show me the respect due my office and you *will* not insult myself or those I consider my family!"
Taking a step toward Elrond, closing the gap between them, Thranduil sneered. "Well, my Lord, I see the benefits of being the Lord of Imladris have increased significantly since last I visited."
"I should never have welcomed you into my home, Thranduil."
"Then why did you?"
"I thought that, perhaps, time and family had smoothed those rough edges you always showed when you resided with me. It was a mistake, welcoming you, when all you have *ever* done is insult me!"
They were fuming. They were angry. Neither really knowing why. So, Thranduil did the only thing he could think to do at that moment, staring into eyes stormy with contempt. He grasped Elrond by his hair and pulled him into an angry, fierce kiss. Elrond's hands came up to bury themselves into the King's mass of gold, opening his mouth to the onslaught that was Thranduil.
But, as soon as the kiss began, it was over. Thranduil pulled away harshly and pushed Elrond from him. His eyes cold, his tone sharp and his movements cruel. "Then your memory is fading, *Yaaraer*," he spat, turning the endearment into an insult. "Else you would remember many other things that I have done. Or perhaps, you are simply confused; not knowing which acts to attribute to which of your bedmates." With that stinging statement, Thranduil stormed from the guest chamber, leaving a stunned Elrond behind.
Thranduil, in a very veiled way, Elrond realized, had called him a whore.
He hated Thranduil, no matter what Erestor thought.
~*~*~*~
Glorfindel did one last round through the main house, making sure all was well. It was his duty to check all doors and to be sure everyone was in their rooms or at the duties. When he rounded the corner and entered the hall that would lead him to his room, he nearly died of fright.
Walking slowly toward him was the Lord of the House. He was barefoot, wearing his white sleeping gown. The proud Peredhil's hair was down and looked mussed, as if he had just risen from his bed. But his eyes, Glorfindel noticed, his eyes were glazed and haunted. His cheeks had no color in them and he looked lost, ghostly.
Glorfindel stood in front of Elrond, speaking softly to him. "My Lord?"
Elrond blinked, coming back to himself. "Glorfindel."
Glorfindel's heart wrenched. Elrond's voice was flat and without the usual richness and warmth. He took his Lord's arm and gently steered the lost Elf to his chambers, not wishing to navigate back to Elrond's suite. Once inside, Glorfindel sat Elrond on the bed and lit a lamp. He excused himself for a moment and went into his dressing room, changing from his uniform into a sleeping robe.
He reentered the bedroom and sat beside Elrond, taking his friend's hand.
"Could you not sleep, meldir?"
Elrond shook his head. He turned his head and looked at his friend, someone he had known for over a thousand years and considered his own family. The deep blue eyes were so full of compassion and understanding and Elrond felt himself open up to the Noldo.
"Thranduil and I met in Lindon. Orophor immediately disapproved of his relationship with me and made our lives as difficult as he could. We spent just over two centuries in Lindon together, and then Orophor left for Mirkwood, taking my love with him. It was... difficult. We rarely saw one another until I founded Imladris. Then he spent winters here every year. I could not visit him in Mirkwood; Orophor made it clear I was not welcome in his kingdom."
Glorfindel listened to the story, feeling honored that Elrond trusted him.
"Things were fine, Glorfindel; perfect, even. As perfect as one could hope for with an overbearing father who refused to allow us to bind to one another in hopes of marrying off Thranduil to forge some alliance in the future. Then, one night when I entered my room and found him on my bed. He had showed up, out of the blue in the middle of spring, to surprise me. When we lay together that night, though, there was a distance I had never felt before." He looked back up into Glorfindel's eyes. "We had been together for twenty-six hundred years, Glorfindel. I had never sensed any kind of coldness from him, but that night... and every night after, his heart was not with me.
"We were together for a few more years, but he only came to Imladris twice before we went to war. The Winter Solstice in 3028 of the Second Age was the last night we spent together. He left at dawn the following morning and I did not see him again until the end of the Battle of Dagorlad.
"He came to my tent. His father had fallen in the siege. So had most of Mirkwood's army. Thranduil and about a third of them were left. I thought he had come to me for comfort, and I was ready to give it to him. I reached out for him... but he... knocked my hand away." Tears glistened in Elrond's eyes, his gaze lost to his memories. Glorfindel gripped his hand harder, willing his strength into his friend. "He told me it was over. His father had been right. He... called me names and yelled and screamed at me. I cannot remember everything he said, and I think that forgetting is a blessing. When he was done he simply left. He took his company and left us all to face Sauron."
Elrond sighed and closed his eyes, and Glorfindel thought the tale over. He opened his mouth to speak, but quickly shut it once Elrond continued with his tale.
"I didn't have time to think on it. It felt as if my heart was ripped in two, that half of my soul had been shorn from me. But, we had to fight. We had to win. And we did.
"We, Erestor and I, returned to Imladris after Gil-Galad fell and the force of Sauron was defeated. Thranduil sent me only one letter and that was to... berate me, I suppose, on my decision regarding Isildur and the Ring. He blamed me for his father's death, and the deaths of many of his close friends. He was angry, felt they had all died in vain just so a Man could possess the Ring. I fell to pieces. I was already wracked with guilt over so many of my actions, and to think my love blamed me for the death of his own father...
"Even with Vilya, I did not wish to rule Imladris. I just wanted to fade. But, Erestor did not allow me to. He held me here, loved me. He shared my bed and my life for almost a century. I am sure it was hard for him, knowing I could never love him as he wanted me to. When Celeborn came to me with an alliance offer if I wed his daughter, Erestor urged me to accept. I did. From then until now, you know the story. You have lived with us and been a part of our family since that time.
"But, today... Oh, today has been a trial for me. Erestor came to my study to tell me he thought Thranduil was here because he loved me. Hope rose in my chest. I could forgive him, Glorfindel. I just wanted to know why he was so angry with me. I kissed Erestor... I could not help myself. He refused me, though, as kindly as he could. He mentioned, with such heartbreak, that he his wounded heart had healed from me and he did not want to relive it. I wanted to pull him to me and tell him I did love him and always had, but how sorry I was that it was not enough for him or I.
"So, I sought out Thranduil to finally clear the air." Elrond laughed bitterly and swiped at his face. Glorfindel realized the Half-Elf was shedding tears. In all the centuries Glorfindel had known his Lord, he had never seen his eyes tear -- not even when Celebrian sailed. "We cleared the air, all right. He accused me of bedding both you and Erestor. Accused me of being everything but a whore. And he left, once again."
Elrond's large, grey eyes turned to Glorfindel and the Elda's heart broke at the sight. Tears fell slowly down ashen cheeks, his lip quivered with the pressure of holding back his sobs. Glorfindel embraced Elrond then, holding his dear friend close to him.
Elrond cried then, as he had not done since Erestor held him like this so many years ago after Thranduil had deserted him. "Why?" he sobbed. "I have wronged Thranduil in some horrible way. The only argument we ever had was over his father and him standing in the way of our future. And when that father died and nothing stood in our way, he left! Then I used poor Erestor to ease my pain, then Celebrian to ally with Lorien. Perhaps Thranduil is right."
Glorfindel shook his head, anger barely contained in his breast. "No, Elrond, he is not. You need to rest, meldir." Glorfindel walked over to his chest and pulled out a small phial. He brought it and a glass of wine back to the bed. "Drink this," he said, offering the phial to his Lord. Once Elrond had swallowed the bitter liquid, Glorfindel offered him some wine.
Within minutes, Elrond's eyes began to glaze over and Glorfindel slipped him under his own bedsheets, tucking him in and lowering the lamp so darkness filled the room.
With his blue eyes flashing, Glorfindel strapped on his quiver and grabbed his bow, exiting his room with one backward glance to the Half-Elf sleeping soundly in his bed.
Thranduil needed to be taught a lesson.
It was only when he stood outside Thranduil's room that he thought how he must look. His quiver was strapped over his indigo sleeping robe, his hair loose and flowing. He probably looked like some avenging spirit. Which is what he felt like. He silently stole into Thranduil's room through the open terrace door. He padded to the bed where the sleeping King lay and drew and arrow from his quiver. He nocked it and pulled back on the taut string, leveling the tip of the arrow at Thranduil's throat.
Glorfindel watched the sleep glazed eyes slowly come back to awareness when Thranduil realized someone was standing over him. "I would not move quickly, Thranduil, or I may just become jumpy and let my arrow loose too soon."
Thranduil's eyes widened as he looked up at the blonde Noldo. He opened his mouth to speak, but Glorfindel cut him off. "No, King, I don't want to hear your threats or insults. I should simply kill you now, be a kinslayer as well as a Balrog-slayer. But, it is because of Lord Elrond Peredhil that my hand stills and I do not cut you down where you lay." He slowly eased the tension in the bowstring and replaced the arrow. "It is because of him you live, Thranduil. And only because of him."
Glorfindel turned on his heel and left through the door, slamming it as he closed the door. He quickly returned to his own chambers, sliding the bolt home before removing his weapon. Letting out a slow breath, Glorfindel made his way to the bed, slipping in beside his friend under the sheets. Elrond turned to him in his sleep and nuzzled up to Glorfindel. The Elf wrapped his arms protectively around his charge and allowed sleep to take him.
~*~*~*~
Elrond came slowly back to awareness. He knew immediately he was not in his bed in his chambers. He sat up quickly, then held his head in his hands as a wave of dizziness washed over him.
"My Lord, you should not sit up so quickly." He raised his eyes and found himself looking into those bottomless black eyes of his Councilor. A soft smile graced the usually emotionless face and he was offered a warm mug. "Drink this, Elrond. It will help ease the headache. Glorfindel said he had to give you something to help you sleep, but it always leaves a terrible headache in its wake."
Erestor stood up and Elrond watched him go to the vanity in Glorfindel's room, he now remembered that was where he was, and retrieve some clothing, a comb and his hair clip. Elrond sipped the warm, sweet liquid, his eyes never leaving the graceful form of Erestor.
Erestor left the room for the bathing room and Elrond knew his friend was preparing a bath for him. "Erestor?" he called out.
"My Lord?" was the muffled reply.
Elrond stood from the bed, placing the mug on the side table. On unsure legs he crossed the small distance to the small chamber Erestor was in. Erestor was indeed preparing him a bath and Elrond blushed in shame. He should not be doing this, his friend was not his keeper and had other duties to attend.
"I have wronged you, meldir."
Erestor looked up from the floor at the stricken face of his friend. His face screwed up in an expression of confusion. "Wronged me, Elrond? How did you come to that conclusion?" In one swift, fluid movement, Erestor went from kneeling by the sunken basin of the tub to standing in front of the Lord.
"I took your love when I needed it and discarded it when it no longer suited my needs. I was so wrong and I hurt you more than I ever allowed myself to notice."
Erestor smiled again. "You took nothing. I freely gave what you think you took. I knew all along, Elrond. I just had hope, that was all. It was my own foolishness that hurt me. And it was so long ago, meldir, you should not dwell on it now. That century was one of the happiest in my long life, and I would not trade it for less heartache."
Elrond reached out to him then, pulling him into a tight embrace. "I do love you, Erestor. I always did."
Erestor pulled back slightly and brushed some tangles from Elrond's face. "I know, meleth. I know."
The Peredhil leaned in and gently placed his lips on Erestor's in a simple gesture of love. This time, Erestor did not shrink away, he allowed Elrond to find a small amount of solace and warmth in the love he offered.
Elrond broke the kiss and smiled at his friend. "Thank you."
The Councilor nodded and helped Elrond out of his sleeping robe then gave him a gentle push toward the tub. "Wash, my Lord. I will wait in the other room."
He nodded and watched Erestor leave the warm, steamy room. His heart felt a little lighter after his attempt at mending a break he had not known he had caused. The water eased the tension in his muscles and the ache in his head was slowly receding.
Yes, he did feel better now.
~*~*~*~
He and Erestor entered the library, talking quietly about the goings-on in the house and the plans for the remaining winter months. Elrond stopped short, though, when he saw Thranduil standing near the fireplace in the vast room. Erestor took his hand, squeezing gently behind the folds of their robes. He went to leave, but Elrond did not release the hand. He needed strength, and no matter how wrong it was to draw from Erestor, he could not be alone with the Sindarin Elf. He lifted his chin defiantly and narrowed his eyes.
"Can we help you, King Thranduil?"
"Yes, I think you can, Lord Elrond." His frosty gaze fell first on Erestor then on Elrond. "You can tell that insane Elf you have chosen for your Seneschal that the next time he takes it upon himself to simply enter my room in the dead of night and threaten my life, I will not be held responsible for the consequences."
Elrond tilted his head a little, confusion clouding his eyes. Erestor leaned over and whispered something into the Peredhil's ear. Elrond's eyes widened and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing out loud. So, his dear friend felt he had to defend his Lord's honor. He must remember to thank the blonde Elf when he returned from checking the borders.
"Thranduil," he said softly, "I do not dictate to my Seneschal what he should and should not do to defend what he feels needs defending. I find he is far more effective with little inference from myself. I would suggest that next time you find yourself on the receiving end of his wrath that you behave yourself. For *I* will not be held responsible for the consequences should you decide to test the limits of his patience."
Elrond released Erestor's hand and for once, he walked out on Thranduil.
Erestor crossed his arms and watched his friend leave the room, a sense of smug righteousness enveloping him. Thranduil deserved more than some terse words from Elrond and the King should consider himself lucky Glorfindel had not killed him. He turned to leave himself when Thranduil's voice stopped him.
"You always were a problem, Erestor. Following him as if he could not exist without your presence in his life. Drove me mad millennia ago, drives me mad now. Most Elves change some as time passes us by, but you still pine after him as if he will ever turn his eye to you."
Erestor met the jealous gaze with a vicious one of his own. He was usually very composed and quiet, but Thranduil had always brought out the worst in him. "Thranduil, you have *no* idea what you have done or continue to do! You do not know Elrond, Glorfindel or myself as you seem to think you do. It would be wise, *King*," he spat at the Elf, "if you simply left the three of us alone and stopped with your outlandish accusations on Elrond's honor."
He stepped slowly and purposefully toward Thranduil, like a stalking cat. His eyes glittered in the light on the library, anger rolling off him in waves. "As for him turning his eye to me, you son of an Orc, he did that thousands of years ago. When you left him, broke his spirit because of your idiotic notion that he was responsible for Orophor's death, *I* was there. *I* picked up the pieces. *I* loved him when he wanted to simply fade. It was *me* who warmed his bed and heart while you sulked in Mirkwood. I have changed, dear King. When he wed Celebrian, I was set free from him. But, his pure and bright love had changed me. It's a shame that what could change me in a mere century could do nothing to alter your personality after spending over two thousand years with him.
"I pity you, Thranduil. I cherished every moment I shared with him. I loved him with all I was, hoping that I could make him forget you and your cold eyes. But," he said softly, backing off the King, "I couldn't. He loved you. He could not love me, he could not love Celebrian. I lay the blame for his lukewarm happiness through all these years at your door, Thranduil. So, don't you *dare* try and pass judgement on me, King of Mirkwood. I basked in the radiance that is Elrond and I remained by his side all these years. You... you have been obscured in Shadow, hiding yourself from that light. And I pity you."
Erestor walked out on the King then, his anger still boiling in him. He needed to be far away from this Elf who caused him to remember what hurt his heart so, to be faced with someone so blind and selfish that he would cut off his nose to spite his face.
The King of Mirkwood was an idiot. Plain and simple. Erestor decided Elrond was better off hating his former lover.
~*~*~*~
The cold winds blew through the open gables and halls of the Last Homely House. The late January snow fell soundlessly to the ground. Thranduil looked out from his terrace, sipping the mulled wine and thinking back to past mistakes and all his regrets. He had spent the last three weeks in his chambers, leaving only when he knew the three Lords he was avoiding would not be where he was.
Erestor's words had stung. They rang with truth. He thought that was really why he had always disliked Erestor, the Elf always spoke the truth. Whether you wanted to hear it or not, he presented it to you. Sighing and turning from the cold scene in front of him, he thought on the dark-eyed enigma that was Erestor. The Noldo did have his respect, he found his negotiating skills and his ability to read people an asset to Imladris.
But, those same skills were what had pinned him and laid bare his sins. Even if it was just the two of them in that library, it still ached to be reminded.
He needed to speak with Elrond. They needed to finally have it all out, to show their cards, and let the past be buried. He needed the past to be left behind, the ghosts were slowly killing him. Thranduil wrapped his cloak around his shoulders, swiftly walking through the dim twilight of the halls to Elrond's chambers. He rapped sharply on the door, shifting from foot to foot impatiently.
The latch gave way and the door opened to him. Elrond blinked blearily at him. It was obvious the Lord had been laying down, his red robes were rumpled and his hair was slightly mussed. "Elrond, I would like to talk with you."
Elrond regarded him warily, then nodded, inviting him into the warmth of the main chamber in his bedroom suite. He motioned to a set of chairs near the fire, and Thranduil sat heavily in one.
"Would you like something to drink, my Lord?" Elrond motioned to the small pot near the fire filled with sweet mulled cider. When Thranduil nodded, Elrond prepared two mugs, handing one to Thranduil and sipping at the other while seating himself. Elrond crossed his legs and watched the Mirkwood Elf from hooded eyes. "What do you want, Thranduil? You have been content enough to leave us alone and we have left you alone. Just a few more weeks and the snows will melt and you can leave this cursed valley behind. Why seek me out? Prolong my torment? Add to your amusement?"
Thranduil sighed. He hadn't thought this would be easy. "I wanted to talk to you about the past, Elrond."
The Half-Elf placed his mug on the side table and laced his fingers together. "The past? Hmm... all right. I will humor you. What about the past?"
"Let's start with my love for you."
"Your love? I believe your love was always based on your father's opinion."
Thranduil's eyes narrowed. "I did love you. I wanted to bind myself to you."
Elrond sat forward in his seat. "But you never did."
"I was going to."
"When?"
This time Thranduil sat forward, staring into the depths of eyes that had haunted him for an age. "The night that I surprised you. In that bed beyond this room. I sat there waiting for you for an hour. I was going to tell you that I did not care what my father thought, I loved you and I couldn't imagine my life without you."
Silence settled on the couple as Elrond took in this information. Thranduil had wanted to... but he hadn't. "You never said anything. And after that night, nothing was the same between us."
Eyes as cold as jade flashed at him. "Of course I didn't say anything. I found you in the arms of another. I no longer wanted to spend an eternity with someone who would betray me."
Elrond gasped. "Betray you? Has your memory been affected so by time, Thranduil? I was *never* with anyone else!" Elrond stood up, glaring down at the King. "Would you mind informing me just *who* it was I was betraying you with?"
"I saw you!" Thranduil rose to his feet, meeting the angry gaze with one of his own. "You and Gil-Galad, Elrond! In each other's arms outside your door!"
Elrond's lip lifted in disgust. "You think I threw you over for my King? Are you insane?! Did you have so little faith in me? Of course you did! Why else would we be having this discussion?!"
"I saw what I saw, Elrond!"
Elrond's voice was laced with barely controlled anger. "Then you saw *wrong*, Thranduil. How dare you not even *ask* me about it?! You let me believe all was well for several years after that incident! You *lied* to me that entire time!"
Thranduil's eyes widened, then narrowed. He hissed through clenched teeth, "I have *never* lied to you! My feelings for you never changed despite the hurt I felt at your indiscretion!"
"There was no indiscretion!" Elrond threw his hands up and walked to the mantle, leaning against it with his head resting in his hands. He tried to regain some measure of control over his emotions. To his credit, only a slight tremble remained in his voice as he said, without looking up, "Why are you here, Thranduil? To throw your very late accusations at me? To kick me while I am down?"
"I am here," Thranduil spat, "because I was foolish enough to think that you might accept such comfort as I was able to offer you in your time of grief!"
"If I wronged you so badly all those centuries ago, why should I believe that you would offer me *anything* but derision and ridicule?"
"Because, you miserable excuse for a horse's arse, I love you! Is that so hard to understand?" Thranduil was shouting at the top of his lungs, not caring if the entire host of Imladris could hear him. "I never stopped loving you! Not when I saw you in Gil-Galad's arms! Not when you wed Celebrian! Not then -- and not now!"
Elrond slowly turned to face Thranduil, amazed at what he was hearing. Tone notwithstanding, was the Mirkwood King professing his love after all this time? He could only stare; his heart was pounding in his ears, and his lips refused to form words.
Thranduil, meanwhile, took Elrond's silence as mistrust and suspicion. "But you're right," he finally conceded. "What reason do you have to believe me? I'm just an insane liar, right?" He turned and began to storm out of the room.
"Oh, no, you don't!" Elrond yelled, rushing after him. He grabbed Thranduil by the arm and spun the King around to face him. Toe to toe and eye to eye, Elrond refused to back down this time. "Thranduil, you proud, spiteful son of an Orc, did it ever occur to you that I never stopped loving you, either?! Did you consider that even though you broke my heart when you left that I still never gave it to another?! I went to Erestor for comfort, Celebrian for heirs, and Glorfindel for companionship. But my love was ever yours!"
Elrond punctuated the statement by wrenching Thranduil's body close and crushing his lips with a forceful kiss as full of anger as it was of love. When at last he pulled back, he added his final words on the matter. "And it still is. If you want it, it will be waiting with me in the next room." He released Thranduil and walked into his bedchambers, pushing the door not-quite-closed behind him.
Elrond didn't have to wait long for an answer. Only a few moments had passed when the door swung inward and Thranduil's tall, lithe form filled the doorway. Neither spoke a word; none were necessary. Thranduil walked in and closed the door. Elrond was lounging on the bed, bathed in the soft candlelight. He was naked save for a thin dressing gown that did little to hide his body. Never taking his eyes from Elrond, Thranduil slipped out of his clothes as well, standing gloriously nude before the Peredhil.
Thranduil approached the bed and accepted Elrond's outstretched hand. The dark-haired Elf eased Thranduil down beside him and leaned in for another kiss. This one was tender, loving, and very much reciprocated. When their mouths opened and their tongues began to pleasantly grapple with each other, it was easy to forget all the time that had passed; easy to forget the hurt and distance; easy to forget they'd parted at all.
Elrond slipped out of the dressing gown with a little assistance from Thranduil. The King ran his calloused hands over Elrond's chest before leaning down and kissing the hollow of Elrond's throat. He trailed featherlight kisses down Elrond's chest and stomach, turning his body as he moved down so that his head was down by the foot of the bed. He felt Elrond's hands caressing his thighs and hips as he leaned over and pressed his lips against the tip of Elrond's erect member.
The Lord of Imladris turned onto his side, inhaling sharply when Thranduil opened his mouth and pulled Elrond's shaft inside it. Elrond wrapped his arms around Thranduil's hips and caressed his behind as he returned the gesture, bringing his lips down around Thranduil's erection. The Mirkwood Elf moaned, sending shivers through Elrond's body. Elrond moved his mouth over Thranduil's cock in quick, short thrusts; Thranduil, meanwhile, preferred to make studious use of his tongue along the length of Elrond's rod, or suck on the head while stroking the shaft with his hand. Elrond was using his hands to massage Thranduil's smooth sack and tease the taut skin behind it when he heard Thranduil's voice.
"I don't suppose," he began, a little hoarse, "that you still keep a phial of that oil by your bedside?"
Elrond smiled, slightly embarrassed. "I, um, put one here the day after you arrived. Just in case." He started to move to retrieve it, but Thranduil laid a hand on his chest.
"No, you just lay there, mellon-nin. I want to show you something." Thranduil got the phial and removed the stopper. He tipped the bottle and poured a small stream of the oil onto Elrond's swollen cock. After replacing the phial, he wrapped his fingers around the shaft and stroked, making sure that the entire length shimmered in the dim light. Thranduil then sat astride Elrond's hips and reached behind him to guide Elrond's well-lubricated erection into his tight ass.
Elrond moaned in surprise and pleasure, looking up at Thranduil. "Where did you learn that?" he gasped out.
"You were not my last male lover, either, Elrond," Thranduil grinned, placing his hands on Elrond's chest as he began to bounce on the balls of his feet. He moved up and down in slow, shallow thrusts, looking down into Elrond's eyes the entire time.
Elrond slid his hands up Thranduil's arms, then down his sides, across his thighs, and back to his arms, losing himself in the sensations of this new position. As it had been the last time they were together those centuries ago, Thranduil was in complete control of Elrond's pleasure. And just as he was then, Elrond was enraptured by it.
Thranduil sat up more fully, moving his weight back onto his knees. The motion drove Elrond's arousal deeper into Thranduil, burying it completely into the King's rear passage. Elrond cried out at the suddenness of the gesture. The cries quickly turned to moans, however, as Thranduil began to gently rock back and forth. Elrond reached out and took Thranduil's member in his hand and stroked it furiously, causing Thranduil to groan low in his throat.
It did not take long at all for Elrond to begin to feel the stirrings of orgasm. He reflexively clenched, inadvertently squeezing Thranduil's cock and causing his old lover to wince. Thranduil only smiled as he gently removed Elrond's hand and replaced it with his own, working his rod in time with his motions on Elrond. Elrond's moans grew in intensity with each motion, and the sight of Thranduil masturbating above him was nothing short of breathtaking.
After what felt like an eternity of anticipation but was still over too soon, Elrond moaned loud, long, and low as his body jerked, and he fired his seed deep into Thranduil's ass. The feeling sent Thranduil over the edge as well, sending his fluids spurting onto Elrond's stomach and chest with an enormous groan of release.
Thranduil eased himself off of Elrond and left the bed, grabbing his tunic from the floor to clean himself with. He then got back onto the bed beside Elrond and kissed the Peredhil sweetly as he wiped off Elrond's chest and groin. They would both need thorough cleanings in the morning, but neither of them cared about that now.
Elrond doused the candles and settled back into the bed, feeling Thranduil's comforting weight curling beside him. The room was silent for several minutes. Then, Thranduil spoke.
"Elrond? What *exactly* just happened, and what does it mean?"
Elrond did not hesitate to answer. "What just happened was our relationship returning from the Halls of Waiting. And it means we have a *very* long talk ahead of us."
~*~*~*~
The warm spring breeze swept Elrond's robes around his legs and his hair flew in his face. He felt laughter bubble in his chest. It had been so long since he felt so complete, so happy. The stable hand brought the large bay stallion into the courtyard, the saddlebags and tack already strapped onto his back.
Behind the Lord of Imladris stood his family: Erestor and Glorfindel to his right, Elladan and Elrohir to his left. The golden haired Sinda, who had been standing beside the Peredhil, walked to his mount. He was trying to not feel so lost, leaving just as he had found his heart again. It was not a permanent departure. His lover would arrive in his kingdom next fall and stay with him for the winter. It still meant he had to spend three seasons alone.
Elrond placed his hand on Thranduil's hip. When Thranduil turned around his breath caught in his throat at the sight of the Lord. Grey eyes were brimming with unshed tears, but shimmering with deep love. They had been lovers for just under two months, but to the King of Mirkwood, it seemed just a heartbeat's worth of time.
Leaning in he brought Elrond's warm, petal-soft lips to his. His lover's lips parted and allowed him access one last time before he rode off for home. The kiss was slow and sweet, but all too soon it came to an end and Elrond pulled back. Elrond lifted his hand and cupped Thranduil's cheek, smiling up at him.
"Three seasons will pass quickly, meleth."
Thranduil simply nodded, embracing the Half-Elf quickly and then mounting his horse. He reached down, took Elrond's hand, and opened his mouth to speak. "I lo-"
Elrond shook his head, silencing him. He knew what Thranduil was about to say, and he did not want to hear it. He spoke softly and gently to his lover. "Not yet. Give us time, Thranduil. Give *me* time. We have the life of Arda to speak those words. Ride home to your children and rest assured my heart is yours and I will arrive in Mirkwood before the first snowfall."
Thranduil regarded the Lord and nodded, smiling softly at him. Elrond squeezed his hand tightly then released it. He turned from Thranduil and joined his family on the main front stairs to the Last Homely House. In the early morning spring light, Thranduil Orophorion, King of Mirkwood and holder of Elrond's heart, lifted his hand in farewell and rode out of the blessed valley of Rivendell.
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