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Princes Three - Any Shelter
by Minuial Nuwing
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Chapter 7

Legolas drew a deep breath then strode rapidly toward the fire, determined to approach Elladan now, before his courage failed utterly. Stopping a scant pace from the spot where the elder twin sat, he addressed his wronged lover directly, sparing no notice or greeting for the surrounding elves. "I would speak with you, 'Dan," he said, silencing the dark elf's protest with a gesture reminiscent of Thranduil. "By the stream crossing. At Ithil's rise."

Fully expecting to be tackled and pummeled by an enraged elf-knight, the prince was startled to see a flicker of something approaching approval in Elrohir's piercing gaze. Raising his hand to stem further objections, he repeated "At Ithil's rise, el nín," the endearment nearly sticking in his dry throat.

As he walked toward the copse of trees that surrounded the meandering streams, Legolas said a silent prayer that his quaking legs would carry him out of sight of the astounded warriors. Despite Tiriadon's insistence, he knew well the risk he had taken.

If his lover did not appear, if the elder twin had been only further wounded by his peremptory manner, then there was little else the prince could do. But Elladan had already shown himself reluctant to face the issue, and had he allowed the dark elf time to refuse him again, naught would have been achieved. 'At least I have made the effort,' Legolas thought morosely. 'The decision is his, now.'

Settling with his back against one of the enormous beech trees that surrounded the intersecting streams, the woodland prince finally allowed the facade of control to fall away. He glanced up at the velvety black sky, but found that the stars which usually seemed warm and reassuring twinkled this eve with a cold and mocking light. Edrendil was nowhere to be seen.

Dropping his head to his knees, the golden elf closed his eyes, seeking solace in the musical voice of the stream and the rush of a light wind through the trees. Each moment seemed an eternity, and hope ebbed low before he felt, rather than heard, the approach of a lone elf.

Elladan dropped to the ground beside the woodland prince, carefully maintaining the polite distance that now always separated them. His voice, when he finally spoke, was quiet and resigned. "What if I had not come, Legolas?"

"Then I would be truly lost," the woodland prince replied, reaching determinedly for his lover's hand. The dark elf started and moved to withdraw from the touch, but Legolas held on, interlacing their fingers in a once familiar gesture. "Do not pull away from me, Elladan," he pleaded. "Let me speak."

Acknowledged by the faintest nod, the golden elf swallowed with difficulty. "I am sorry, melethen. There is no recompense I can offer, no words that will change what happened..."

"I have said that I know..." the elder twin interrupted, only to be silenced by a finger to his lips.

"...that you know I meant no harm," Legolas finished. "Aye, you have said so. But it is not enough that I meant no harm, and well I realize it. I misused you, caused you pain in body and spirit, and naught will change that fact. It is done." Blinking back the tears that were stinging his eyes, he continued, "But please, gwadoren... please..."

Elladan raised his head sharply at the long unused endearment, and glimmering grey eyes met the prince's imploring gaze.

"Bar me from your bed if you must, 'Dan. 'Tis little more than I have earned. But do not bar me from your heart. I cannot bear the thought of living without you, without 'Roh."

The prince's voice trailed off into silence as he waited anxiously for some response. Any response.

"I do not wish to bar you from our bed, 'Las," the elder twin responded after a long moment, his voice hoarse with unshed tears. His thumb tracing patterns absently on his lover's palm, he added, "And 'twas I who failed you, in some ways."

Legolas shook his head in denial, his eyes wide, as he squeezed the dark elf's hand tightly.

"I tried not to mind, anor nín," Elladan said, his eyes trained on the silvery sparkle of the flowing streams. "I truly did. But I wanted so badly to hold you, to comfort you. You wanted oblivion, not gentle words. And it hurt. I felt used, as though any ellon would have sufficed."

"You did comfort me, 'Dan," the prince replied, a single tear escaping to wind down one pale cheek. "'Twas I who asked far too much."

"But it should not have been too much," the elder twin argued, guilt liming his voice. "You should not have been forced to deal with my fragile ego as well as your own grief and anger." He drew a shaky breath and continued, "My pride was injured, and I thought... nay, I hoped that if we did not speak of it, my ire would fade, and with it the guilt."

Searching his companion's face for understanding, Elladan sighed. "But it did not fade, 'Las. And instead of facing it -and you- I hid behind my affronted facade. I should not have... "

"Nay," Legolas interrupted, his eyes mithril-rimmed above wet cheeks. "I should not have. 'Twas my offense, melethen, not yours." Grasping his lover's other hand, he looked beseechingly into the drowned grey eyes. "I asked for your forgiveness once before, el nín, and you would not answer. Can you grant it now? Will you give me time and chance to prove myself once more?"

"There is no need to prove..." the elder twin began, but his protest was cut off summarily.

"There is need," the prince insisted fiercely. "Mayhap the need is mine, rather than yours, but it is there." His voice softening, he asked again, "Will you forgive me?"

Elladan withdrew one hand from his lover's grasp, reaching up to push back a golden braid. "Aye," he said, finally allowing his tears free reign. "I will."


Elrohir sat silently by the fire, his gaze wandering repeatedly to the thicket of trees which screened his twin and Legolas from the gathered warriors. Aggravation warred with hope as he waited impatiently for the outcome of the long overdue confrontation. The tension of the last few days had left the three elves exhausted and heartsick, the elf-knight no less so than Elladan or the woodland prince.

Lingering anger at Legolas' unconscionable treatment of the elder twin, combined with exasperation at Elladan's stubborn reluctance to face the incident and his own turbulent feelings, had left Elrohir in such a foul temper that none dared approach him with any but the most critical request. Save one.

Tiriadon lowered himself to the ground beside the younger twin, seemingly oblivious to the ominous scowl that graced the dark elf's face. "I brought you some tea, hmren," the Mirkwood captain said, pushing a mug into Elrohir's reluctant grasp. "'Twill not hurry them to ignore your own comfort."

The elf-knight gave a curt nod in his companion's direction, then returned his regard to the flickering fire.

"You are welcome, mellonen," Tiriadon retorted with a wry grin, before launching into a one-sided conversation with the glowering peredhel. Speaking randomly of the trip before them, the horses, the weather, the relative merits of Dorwinion red and miruvor... the Mirkwood elf had nearly exhausted himself as well as all possible topics when at last Elrohir reacted.

"Valar's wisdom, captain!" the younger twin roared, scattering the few remaining onlookers like chafe in the wind. "Will you just be silent?"

"Ah, so you are yet capable of speech," Tiriadon chuckled, completely unfazed. "I had begun to lose hope."

"I am capable of far more than speech, I assure you," Elrohir snapped, his eyes narrowed in irritation. "I am in no mood for levity, Tiri. There is a discussion of some gravity underway, or have you forgotten? I wish to be left in peace."

"Why?" the Mirkwood captain prodded. "To brood? To plan revenge? 'Tis of no benefit that you sit and stew over the mistakes of others, ernilen, while the principals struggle to reach accord. Has there not..."

"Enough!" the dark elf hissed, grasping his companion's arm in warning. "I have had enough wood-elf insolence to last me for all eternity in the days just past. Leave me, ere you find yourself thrashed."

"If 'twill ease your anger to thrash a wood-elf, peredhel, then do so," Tiriadon retorted, his own eyes blazing. "If you think that you can. But I would have you try your luck with me, rather than Legolas. He has endured far more suffering in his isolation and self-recrimination than you could offer with your hands, however deadly."

Rising fluidly, he stood glaring at the elf-knight. "Well? Shall I have my warriors clear a grappling field?"

The younger twin stared in amazement at Tiriadon, a reluctant smile curling the corners of his mouth. "There are few in Imladris who would issue that challenge, mellonen. And fewer still who will brave my moods." Patting the ground, he shook his head. "Sit down, captain, and tell me the secret of your courage. I have no desire to throttle you... or 'Las."

Settling comfortably beside the dark elf, Tiriadon shrugged. "My Adar is an elf of uncertain temperament, also, hmren," he explained with a smile, handing a surreptitiously produced wineskin to Elrohir.

Eyeing the offered drink ruefully, the elf-knight asked, "Why give me tea when such a superior libation was within reach?"

The Mirkwood warrior grinned broadly. "I did not wish to face you both enraged and intoxicated. I have been called courageous, Elrohir, but I am not a fool."

"Indeed, captain," the younger twin chuckled, drinking deeply from the wineskin before passing it back to Tiriadon. "I never thought..."

Elrohir shuddered suddenly, rendered speechless by the flood of unrestrained thoughts and feelings rushing over him. Elladan had dropped all barriers, whether willingly or in distress. For an agonizing moment, the elf-knight could not decipher the chaos, and he rose instinctively to his feet. Then one emotion rose clear and strong. Relief. It was over.

Releasing a thankful breath, the younger twin felt the gentle brush of his brother's thoughts.

Join us, ttren. There is yet much to say.

"Hmren?" Tiriadon probed cautiously. "Are you... is Elladan. . . is everything well?"

"Aye, mellonen," the elf-knight replied with a grateful sigh, turning toward the grove of trees. "I do believe it is."


Elvish Translations:
el nín - my star
melethen - my love
gwadoren - my brother (sworn, not by blood)
anor nín - my sun
ellon - male elf
hmren - my lord
mellonen - my friend


Chapter 8

Mirkwood 2151 III

Legolas handed Ornfaer's reins off to a stable hand, then turned to Elladan. "I must make my report immediately. News of our loss will spread, and I would not have the council learn of Berioron's fall from another source."

"Aye, 'twould come easiest from you," the elder twin agreed soberly. "Would you have us accompany you?"

The woodland prince shook his head slowly, "'Twould be best if I go alone, as always, I think." His uncertain gaze flickering to Elrohir, he added, "They will have carried hot water to my chamber as soon as we were sighted. You can bathe, if you like. I shall be as quick as I can, but"

"We will wait for you, 'Las," the elf-knight interrupted, clasping his lover's arm reassuringly. "Do what you must. We will bathe in the caverns with the rest of the battle party, then search out a bottle of wine and a bite or two, and meet you in your chambers."

"'Tis not necessary, 'Roh," the prince argued. "You need not delay"

"Hush, anor nín," Elladan broke in firmly. "The longer you linger, the longer 'twill be 'til your return."

"Melin chen," Legolas whispered, drawing both his companions into a brief embrace. "And I do not deserve you." Pulling away, the golden elf caught sight of the cloud of dust and horse hair released by the contact. A faint grin spreading across his face, he said, "But mayhap a visit to the caverns is a good idea."


The long days of travel had left the Mirkwood warriors quite comfortable with the Peredhil twins and Elladan and Elrohir lingered in the cavern pools, enjoying the easy camaraderie shared by those who have faced danger together and triumphed.

"You had best dry yourselves, mellynen, else Legolas will be both back and bathed ere you return," Barangolas chuckled, slipping into the pool. Greeting each of the twins with a shoulder clasp, he settled against the pool side with a sigh.

"He has finished with the council, then?" Elrohir asked, receiving the expected nod in answer. "How went the briefing?"

"Well enough," the youngest woodland prince replied thankfully. "'Tis a bitter loss, of course, but less than was expected, truth be told."

"And how do you fare, ernil neth?" Elladan asked soberly, eyeing the silvery scar that ran the length of the prince's flank with professional interest. "'Twas quite a blow, from the look of the scar."

"The filthy orch nearly gutted me," Barangolas agreed with a wry smile. "But I am good as new, praise be to your adar, as well as the Valar. 'Twas beyond the skill of even the best of our healers." Brightening, he continued, "But some good was born of it. Anteruon managed admirably, both in the healing halls and in the council chamber. Ada has agreed that he might winter in Imladris every other coming, to study with Lord Elrond."

"'Twill please Ada, that is sure," Elrohir sighed. "I have not seen him so taken with an elf's natural skill since 'Dan began his training."

"We should make haste, 'Roh," the elder twin said, reaching for his towel as he rose from the water. "We still must find food to take back to 'Las."

"I will see to the ordering of your tray, ernilen," offered one of the archers who had just left the pool. "What would you have them bring?"

"Whatever is convenient," Elrohir answered. "Bread, butter, a bit of cheese, cookies...definitely a bottle of Dorwinion..." Catching Elladan's hopeful expression, he added, "And strawberries, mayhap?"

"Strawberries it is then, híren," the Mirkwood elf agreed with a grin. "Go to your rest. I will call for your meal.


Legolas sank gratefully into the refilled tub, his freshly washed hair floating like golden river-weed around his shoulders. The warm, scented water relaxed his body, but he was unable to slow the anxious thoughts racing through his mind. So much had happened since the last time he had shared this chamber with his lovers.

Despite the heartfelt conversation, despite the apologies offered and forgiveness granted on the stream bank last eve, there was yet a lingering sense of unease in his dealings with the twins. A sense of unease that the prince felt sure could only be banished by both Elladan's acceptance of his touch, and the assuagement of his own need to somehow offer recompense, however inadequate, for his deeds in the healing tent.

Though he had nearly wept with relief when both Elladan and Elrohir curled around him to sleep, there had been neither time nor place for further intimacies, and he now felt as nervous and unsure as an ellon on the eve of his majority.

His morose musings interrupted by the thud of the closing door, Legolas tensed briefly, then relaxed as he recognized the familiar footfalls and murmurs. Just as he started to call out, a knock sounded, followed by Elrohir's cheerful 'Hannon chen' and the clatter of a well-provisioned tray. A moment later the woodland prince heard the soft 'pop' of a cork and the splash of wine in a glass, then Elladan entered the bathing chamber.

Handing the filled glass to Legolas, the elder twin perched on the side of the tub and reached for a towel. "They have sent a near banquet, 'Las," he remarked, carefully lifting and twisting the sopping golden mane, heedless of the water splashing over his leggings. Squeezing the silken strands as dry as possible, he braided them loosely into a heavy rope. "Come and eat with us, if you have finished soaking."

"Aye, I have finished," the prince agreed, setting his goblet on the tub's edge. Legolas stood gracefully and accepted the offered towel before meeting his lover's eyes. "'Dan," he began, "I...please...do not force yourself to..."

"Shhh," Elladan countered, silencing the stumbling words with a shake of his head. "I am forcing myself to do nothing." Wrapping the towel snugly around Legolas' waist, he opened the door and urged the prince into the bedchamber.

"Dress yourself, anor nín, so I may eat without distraction," Elrohir said with a grin, tossing a pair of loose leggings at the woodland prince. "There is food enough here for an entire battle party."

Legolas slipped into the offered leggings and moved to the table, the assembled feast bringing a smile to his face despite his wariness. There was indeed food enough for a company of warriors. The tray practically vanished under the abundance of breads and cheeses. A generous pile of dark, spicy cookies vied for space with a mounded bowl of deep red strawberries. Tubs of butter, honey and cream sat ready for use.

The next minutes were filled with appreciative silence as the three elves tucked into the provided meal. "I was hungrier than I imagined," the elf-knight admitted, reaching for yet another thick slice of the hearty bread.

"'Tis a good thing there was food enough for ten," the elder twin chuckled ruefully, nodding at the much depleted tray. "Or there would be naught left but a crust."

"The kitchen is well used to the appetites of returning warriors," Legolas agreed with a grin. "But you have not finished your berries, 'Dan."

"They will keep, melethen," Elladan drawled, arching an eyebrow at his brother. "I wager there are more pressing matters to attend to just now."

The woodland prince recognized the significance of both the teasing tone and rapidly darkening grey eyes. Drawing a deep breath, he moved restlessly in his chair, fighting the tension that threatened to overwhelm him yet again.

Elrohir looked at him appraisingly, "Come here, 'Las," he ordered quietly, grasping one reluctant hand. "You are making me anxious with your fidgeting." Pulling Legolas down astride his lap, the elf-knight wrapped him in a loose embrace, one hand drawing soothing circles on the tense muscles of the prince's back. "Why do you fret so, hmm? Naught has changed."

"Mayhap," Legolas answered, shivering slightly as his lover's tongue traced his jaw line, always stopping just short of the sensitive ear. "But I feel as though there is a debt yet unpaid," Pulling away slightly, he turned a somber gaze on the elder twin. "'I am sorry' is not enough."

Elladan met the wary blue-green gaze squarely. "The words are not sufficient, nay," he agreed, reaching out to toy with the golden braid. "But the remorse is real, and that is enough. 'Twas a mistake, anor nín, and we both had a hand in its making. Let it go."

"Indeed,' Elrohir murmured, nuzzling the prince's ear. "I, for one, am quite finished with food." Sucking the ear tip into his mouth, he swirled his tongue over the tender point repeatedly. "And with conversation."

The elder twin chuckled and rose from his chair, extending a hand to Legolas. "Come along, ernilen, ere you find yourself bent over the table. I fear 'Roh has been somewhat cheated, and his forbearance is no doubt stretched to its limit."

The elf-knight huffed, turning to his brother in mock umbrage. "As though I would be so crass as to do such a thing. Really, ttren. You wound me."

Elladan grinned, one eyebrow lifting in amusement. "I believe history will bear me out, rohir nín."

"Do tell it properly, 'Dan, " Elrohir insisted, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "'Twas your own fault, really, for teasing so."

"And 'twas a desk."


The bedchamber echoed with ragged breathing and the soft, wet smack of lips and tongue on bare flesh. Legolas groaned in frustration, arching toward the hand that repeatedly stroked his flat stomach, always tantalizingly close, but never touching his aching arousal. If this was Elladan's revenge, it was surely of the cruelest kind.

The elder twin raised his head, giving one last tug to the gold nipple ring as it slipped from between his teeth. "Revenge?" he queried, a lilt of amusement in his voice. "I had not thought of it as such, nay. But if it eases your mind, then you may call it revenge."

"'Tis not the punishment I should choose," Legolas panted, shuddering as the stroking hand was replaced by Elrohir's mouth, nipping and licking the tender skin where groin and stomach met, his silken hair sliding across trembling thighs. "And stay out of my thoughts, if you please."

"Punishment of your own choosing hardly deserves the name, does it 'Las?" Elladan chuckled. Moving up to cradle the prince's head in his hands, the dark elf stared for a moment into the dilated emerald eyes. "But you may tell me of your choice, melethron, and we shall see," he continued, nibbling at his lover's mouth before capturing the swollen lips in a searing kiss.

Legolas gasped at the intensity of the assault, opening himself to the aggressively thrusting tongue that seemed determined to rob him of both reason and breath. Elladan pulled away, his own breathing harsh and uneven, and nipped sharply at the prince's jaw. "Later," he promised darkly, sending a tremor through the golden elf's body.

Turning his head to meet Elrohir's questioning gaze, the elder twin nodded slightly, passing the bottle of oil to his brother.

Aye, I am sure.

'Tis not wise, el nín. And 'Las will not...

Hush, ttren, ere we all grow old. It is decided.

Legolas frowned, aware of the exchange, but not privy to it. He opened his mouth to speak, his words becoming a howl as the elf-knight engulfed him in one quick movement. Barely had he caught his breath when oil-slick fingers breached his body, twisting and stretching insistently. The woodland prince was so lost in the haze of sensation that the meaning of Elrohir's actions did not register at once.

Only when Elladan pressed the oil vial into his hand did Legolas grasp the significance of the silent conversation. An emotion near horror seized him as he tried to press the oil back on the elder twin, almost speechless in his panic. "Nay, 'Dan...please...I cannot. Not now...not this time...please..."

"Today we please me, 'Las," Elladan insisted, softening his words with a gentle kiss. "And I wish to be held." Settling comfortably on his back, the dark elf raised his knees invitingly. "I trust you," he said, catching the anxious emerald gaze. "Come love me, hmm?"

Shaking his head in pleading refusal, Legolas met Elrohir's narrowed eyes. A flash of steel in their dark depths gave him pause even before the voice curled through his mind, its tone deceptively mild.

Do not hurt him again, Legolas.

The woodland prince inhaled sharply at the implicit warning as he stretched out beside Elladan. It was obvious that though the elf-knight may have forgiven him his trespass, the incident was by no means forgotten.

"Leave it, ttren," the elder twin ordered quietly, laying a hand on his brother's arm. "It is over."

Elrohir searched the golden elf's tense features, then relaxed almost imperceptibly. "Aye, mayhap it is," he replied, sliding around to nestle behind Legolas. Nuzzling his lover's neck, he added lightly, "And my patience wears thin, wood-elf."

The prince smiled faintly, heartened by the familiar teasing. He opened the vial and drizzled a pool of the scented oil into one hand. Studying Elladan's face closely, he asked, "Are you sure, el nín?"

"Aye," the elder twin answered, running his fingers through the oil before curling them firmly around his lover's weeping length. "I am, indeed."

Legolas groaned, pushing reflexively into the slick grip. Pressing a trail of wet kisses over the dark elf's chest and stomach, he moved to lap at the base of the twitching shaft before drawing his tongue slowly up the underside to suck noisily at the wet crown.

Elladan yelped, his hips lifting off the bed instinctively. Catching hold of the golden braid that curled across his stomach he tugged sharply, but the prince paid little heed, continuing his voracious suckling as he slipped his fingers into his lover's body, easing and oiling the tight passage.

"'Las," the elder twin panted, struggling to press down further on the invading hand. "'Tis enough..."

Sliding back up the tensed form, Legolas claimed the dark elf's mouth in a lazy kiss, then raised his head to lift a questioning eyebrow at Elrohir.

"Sweet Elbereth, yes," the elf-knight rasped, arching against the woodland prince. "Ere I lose my mind."

Elladan rolled willingly to his side, obediently bending one leg toward his chest, and muffled a hoarse groan as Legolas pressed tightly against his back, impaling him with one sure thrust.

Struggling to hold off a too-quick climax, the golden elf buried his face in the ebony dark hair, wrapping his arms around his lover. "Melin chen," he murmured, his breath ghosting across Elladan's ear. "Always."

"I know, anor nín," the elder twin whispered, burrowing deeper into the trembling embrace. "Melin chen."

The woodland prince reached blindly for Elrohir, biting back a whimper as the elf-knight curled snugly around his body, gently forcing one of his legs forward and pushing into the slippery warmth with a sigh of relief.

Despite his urgency, the younger twin remained motionless, savoring the closeness and warmth that he had feared lost forever but a few days earlier. Then Legolas stirred restlessly, and the moment was gone. Pulling back slightly, the elf-knight began to move in long, slow strokes, one hand clasped firmly on an ivory hip, compelling the prince to match his rhythm.

Already exhausted, his emotions in turmoil, Legolas quickly found his control slipping away under the driving thrusts that caressed him from within, even as they forced him deeper into the silken heat of Elladan's body. As his muscles begin to tighten threateningly, the prince wrapped his fingers around the dark elf's arousal, his movements becoming erratic as his own body trembled with impending release.

At last it was all too much, and Legolas shuddered, burying himself in his lover's warmth as he spilled violently, a swirl of light and color exploding before his eyes, his ears filled with his own groans. Lost in a haze of mindless pleasure, the prince was only vaguely aware of the hot cream spilling over his fist, or the stifled shout that heralded Elrohir's release.

Long moments later, Legolas found himself cradled snugly between the twins, his head pillowed on Elladan's chest, the reassuring thud of the elder twin's heart lulling him quickly toward sleep. "'Dan, I..." he began drowsily, only to be silenced by the tightening of one strong arm.

"Not now, melethen," Elladan interrupted, dropping a kiss on the prince's flushed forehead. "Later."

"Rest, 'Las," the elf-knight agreed, curling more tightly around the golden elf. "It will wait."

Relaxing in the warmth of the bodies entangled with his, soothed by the steady rise and fall of Elrohir's chest against his back, Legolas swiftly slid into a dreamless reverie.


Elrohir rose carefully from the bed, slipping into his clothing and fashioning his hair into a single braid before moving soundlessly toward the door. Just as his hand touched the latch, he felt the brush of his brother's thoughts.

Where are you going, ttren?

Moving to the side of the bed, the elf-knight knelt and pressed a brief kiss to Elladan's mouth, taking in the now content grey gaze with relief. "I am going to find Anteruon, before he is off on his evening prowl," he replied quietly. "'Tis near the dinner hour."

"Wait a bit, and we will accompany you," the elder twin offered, glancing down at Legolas.

The prince stirred restlessly, as if aware of the soft voices even in his sleep, and Elrohir shook his head, smiling slightly as he stood to go.

Nay, el nín. You have unfinished business here.

In answer to the arch of one elegant eyebrow, he whispered, "You have your peace, ttren. Do not deny 'Las his."

As Elladan opened his mouth to protest, his brother silenced him with a look. "And 'tis useless to pretend that you do not understand. I will wait for your word ere I return."

The falling of the latch startled Legolas into full wakefulness. Stretching lazily, he buried his face in his lover's neck. "Where is 'Roh off to?"

"He wished to mingle a bit," the elder twin answered noncommittally. Untying the strip of lacing that bound the prince's hair, he began to unweave the ragged golden braid. "How do you feel, melethen?"

"Well enough," Legolas sighed and snuggled closer, his tongue snaking out to tickle the pale throat. "And you?"

Elladan rolled suddenly, pinning the woodland prince with the weight of his body. "I am quite recovered," he replied silkily, "And there is yet the matter of your chosen reparation."

"Aye," Legolas agreed, swallowing thickly. "There is."

"What is you choice, then? We shall see if it meets with my approval," the elder twin purred, nipping sharply at an ivory ear before claiming his lover's mouth in a brutally sensual kiss, tongue and teeth ravaging the tender flesh mercilessly.

Breaking the kiss, the dark elf lapped gently at a drop of blood that gleamed on the abused lower lip before raising his head to meet emerald dark eyes. "I would have an answer, melethron."

The woodland prince's passion induced flush deepened under the intense scrutiny. "I believe you know my choice, el nín."

"Say it, nonetheless," Elladan demanded, rocking his hips against the slick column that prodded his own arousal enticingly. Catching the golden elf's wrists, he pressed them down against the rumpled bed. "There has been enough misunderstanding."

Legolas arched up into the beguiling warmth of his lover's body, spreading his legs in invitation. "Take me," he breathed. "Hard."

"Hard?" the elder twin echoed, wedging himself between the open thighs.

"Aye, if you wish," the prince whispered, bucking purposefully as his legs snaked around Elladan's waist. "Whatever you wish."

"'Tis a dangerous game you play, pen neth," the dark elf growled, forcing the encircling legs higher with a practiced twist of his body. Sliding his weeping length repeatedly over his lover's sweat-slick crease, he pressed forward to suckle one flushed ear. "A very dangerous game," he murmured sinking his teeth into the base of the ivory throat as he pushed past the still-stretched entrance with one savage thrust.

Legolas went still, the playfully menacing whisper and sudden stab of pain-become-pleasure carrying him back in time. His overwhelmed senses reeled, and he was cradled in sweet-smelling grasses on a hot summer day. The silken hair that shrouded his face was not midnight dark, but gold-sparked silver, and he was young and afraid.

Instantly aware of the prince's withdrawal, Elladan remained motionless. Fleeting images brushed his mind, evidence of the depth of his lover's distress. "'Las?" he said quietly, releasing the unresisting hands. "Open your eyes, anor nín. Look at me."

Emerald eyes flickered over his face, the vestiges of fear still visible in their depths scattering as recognition dawned. "Valar, 'Dan, I am sorry," Legolas managed, raising his arms to embrace the elder twin. "I do not know why..."

"Shhh," Elladan broke in, raining kisses on the golden elf's face. "'Tis alright. You are not yet rested. There is naught to be sorry for, melethen." The dark elf was silent for a moment, stroking one flushed cheek soothingly, then he suddenly asked, "Who was he?"

Legolas grinned, and it occurred to the elder twin that this was the first genuine expression of mirth he had seen on his lover's face in many days. "I do not fancy discussing my majority rites whilst you are buried in my backside, 'Dan," the prince chuckled, pulling Elladan down into an affectionate kiss. "It would seem that we were in the middle of something urgent, ere we were interrupted."

When the dark elf hesitated, Legolas tightened his legs, drawing his lover deeper into his body. "Lost your nerve, have you, Peredhel?" he prodded, his taunting tone belied by the tenderness in his eyes.

"I have not, wood-elf," Elladan retorted, drawing back to slam forcefully into the velvet heat. "Have you?"

"Gods, no," the woodland prince panted, raising his hips to meet the powerful thrusts. "Again...Ai, yes...like that...like that..."

Spurred on by the broken gasps and pleas, Elladan pounded into the willing body almost violently, losing all pretense of rhythm as he slipped a hand between their slick stomachs to stroke his lover's arousal. "Spill for me, melethron," he commanded hoarsely, leaning forward to suckle and bite the prince's already bruised throat. "I would see your face."

Opening his eyes to meet the elder twin's molten black gaze, Legolas could not help but comply with the imperious order, letting go a keening wail as he showered their glistening chests with repeated spurts of iridescent white seed.

Elladan watched the prince raptly. The fair face flushed deeply, eyes fluttering shut in his pleasure, his teeth drawing blood from his lip in a vain attempt to stifle his cry of completion.

Finally surrendering to his own climax, the dark elf pushed deeply into the wildly clenching passage, howling without restraint as he flooded his lover's body with his release. Collapsing onto the limp form beneath him, Elladan lay without moving, waiting for the fierce pounding of his heart to slow.

For an uncertain length of time, there was no sound in the chamber save the harsh rasp of labored breathing. The elder twin at last stirred, moving off Legolas and pulling the still dazed prince into a loose embrace. Stroking the passion tousled golden hair idly, Elladan sighed contentedly. "May we call it settled, now, anor nín?" he asked quietly.

"We may," Legolas agreed, snuggling deeper into the dark elf's arms. "I have no energy left for guilt."


Elrohir stopped in mid-sentence, his attention diverted from his conversation with Anteruon by the insistent nudge of another consciousness.

'Tis finished, rohir nín. Join us.

And another.

Bring food.


Elvish translations:
Melin chen - I love you
anor nín - my sun
mellynen - my friends
ernil neth - young prince
Ada, Adar - Papa/Dad, Father
ernilen - my prince
híren - my lord
ellon - male elf
Hannon chen - Thank you
melethen - my love
rohir nín - my knight
ttren - my brother
melethron - lover (male)
el nín - my star
pen neth - young one

Continued...

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