Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

Aearlinn	By : narcolinde Category: -Multi-Age > General Views: 8921 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
- 13
NOTE: Do not let the title scare you off; the twins and Elrond will NOT be engaging in intercourse with each other, in this or any chapter.

Aearlinn - Adar, Ionath, Melethryn

Frantic, desperate, terrified, and angry Legolas sped away from the twins, hurtling toward the house and the safety of Elrond's arms. Yet as soon as he achieved a small distance from the stream-side camp, the impact of the instinctive yearning diminished and his outrage came to the fore. How dare they! He was already bound, the mate to their father, the life-bearer for their youngest sibling and still they pursued him as if he were any unfettered elf. How clever they were to learn of sylvan ways and court him so sweetly, hunting for him, bringing food and comfort and promises of protection and devotion. Such things were Elrond's deeds to do, not theirs!

A sudden spasm of grief assailed him and he faltered in mid-stride, for it was undeniable that these were the very things his beloved had not done. Why? Why must it be the twin brothers who found the means to care for him as mates truly should? They seemed more concerned over his health and their unborn brother's than their Adar. Yet if this was so, then why had they not claimed him all those years ago? They could not choose which one would have me then. This grim thought was fortified by vague and broken memories of much strife and a brief image of a ferocious physical conflict between the brothers. They had been in deadly earnest, each determined to prevent the other from offering his soul to the fading warrior in their care. And while they were distracted in combat, Elrond finally claimed me.

It didn't make sense; he couldn't grasp the reason for it. His injuries had been too severe, the poison accosting him too virulent and evil; he hadn't really been aware of what was taking place. Still, he had enough knowledge to comprehend that the coupling with the Noldorin Lord had been delayed long enough to reduce his health to the point of expiration. Legolas had felt his light dwindle until only a pale glimmer of it remained and had heard the call of Námo before the searing heat and energy of Elrond's strength and vitality yanked him back in a blistering explosion of glorious delight. The horrific pain that followed their wound-jarring coitus and the lingering sickness attested to the near failure of the bonding.

There was only one conclusion his distraught and grief-clouded mind could conjure. With renewed wrath, Legolas sprang back into motion, his speed fuelled by his need to confront Elrond. He tore across the grounds, leaping over a stone wall dividing the formal gardens from the more private areas of the estate, and bounded across the front courtyard. Up the stairs he bolted and into the house, making for the offices where he knew he would find the valley's ruler. Disregarding the closed door and the serious voices behind it, Legolas threw open the barrier and blazed into the room, sweeping the occupants with a glare of such open ferocity that the Men and elves fell silent and quailed under this scalding scrutiny: Erestor, Echthelion, Glorfindel, Adrahil, and finally Elrond. On him the icy cobalt fire rested as Legolas advanced, arm upraised and finger pointing, chest heaving more from his over-wrought emotions than the exertions that had carried him so quickly hence.

"You! This is all your fault! It isn't supposed to be like this!" the Wood Elf shouted in his native tongue. "I knew I would find you in here with your councillors and your precious human guests. In here instead of with me, always somewhere else instead of with me. Why is it that I must endure this? Do you even know or care? Erestor haunts my steps, a lustful predator waiting for a chance to pounce; Glorfindel gifts me with combs; and your sons seduce me whilst securing my meals. All this while you preen and posture before these odious mortals, too absorbed in your exalted notion of saving their pitiful realms to take note!" By now he was close enough to see the flecks of brown in the startled grey of Elrond's eyes.

"Legolas, please calm down; I can't underst…" Elrond's attempts to placate his lover were rudely cut off.

"No! You relish this sense of power and control, intervening in the affairs of lesser people to make yourself feel important. Is that why you deigned to mate with me? Did it give you a sense of satisfaction to salvage me from Mandos while simultaneously removing the source of contention between Elladan and Elrohir? You let them tend me; you let death tease me, you toyed with me, with us all!"

"What are you saying?" Elrond was horrified to hear the anger in these words, though Legolas was speaking too rapidly for him to follow the statements clearly. Whatever the basis for these recriminations, nothing could be resolved like this. He tried to grasp Legolas' arms, hoping for what he knew not, only believing the physical contact would make him recall the love professed just hours past.

"I don't understand you," Legolas shied back from the reaching arms. His voice nearly broke as he continued, the magnitude of his sorrow exceeding that of his rage. "Why is it your sons who court me, foregoing their own comfort to prepare my favourite dish for breakfast, succouring my fears with kind words and gentleness while all you would give me was a single orange and a multitude of excuses?" Having spoken these thoughts aloud and granted them life and reality, Legolas could stand Elrond's rattled and uncomprehending gaze no more. Without waiting for any answers he turned and retreated with speed equal to that which had propelled him thither, eager to get away before he dissolved into tears before the gaping audience. He was gone in a flash of dancing golden hair.

For a few tense moments silence ruled as every eye now fixed upon Elrond, who stood still as stone, staring in disbelief at the empty space which his beloved had occupied just minutes ago. Then the mortals shifted in their seats, looking to each other in concern before focusing on Erestor. The seneschal shot the Balrog-slayer a quick glance and received a minute shrug of bewilderment in return. Erestor cleared his throat and the noise drew Elrond's eyes to him.

"Perhaps you should…"

"Yes. Please excuse me," Elrond spoke calmly and gave the Men a shallow bow before exiting the room.

He followed the path Legolas had taken, trying to translate from Nandorin to Sindarin as he walked. The speech had been mostly incomprehensible, but he'd caught the names of both his Chief Advisor and his revered captain, a mention of stalking prey, combs, something about breakfast, and reference to his sons. Now it was his turn to become embroiled in anger, certain that therein lay the root of the archer's sudden turn from happiness to infuriated sorrow. How they had found Legolas he couldn't understand, but he was sure Elladan and Elrohir had harmed him. Originally intent upon catching up to the sylvan youth, the Noldorin lord changed his mind. Recalling Legolas' desire to go down to the stream, he altered direction and set off, determined to settle this conflict once and for all.

Elrond found them more quickly than he'd at first believed, for he'd imagined his sons would avoid him rather than face his just wrath. Yet Legolas' trail was not hard to follow and the scent of the fish soon caught his awareness; the bizarre reference to food became less obscure. They were waiting for him beside the embers of the cook fire, standing side by side, a sobering agglomeration of dread, defiance, and wistful hope within their contritely stormy eyes. He glared from one to the other, not prepared for the sense of conflicted remorse that verily suffused the air around them, and warily weighed their half-penitent, half-pugilistic posture. Angry though he was, he had no intention of initiating a crude brawling contest with his own offspring.

He'd expected them to present the accusing disdain which had become the norm whenever they chanced to look at him. In an instant he recognised his own guilty shame invited that response and checked himself; yes, he believed in his heart that whatever Legolas was so upset about, he was to blame. Before the regrets could overwhelm his anger, which had the mighty warriors temporarily cowed, Elrond halted a metre distant and assumed his most regally imposing stance, crossing his arms over his chest. He would play the stern father to their mirrored personas of adolescent guile.

"Tell me what you have done," he demanded.

"Only what you should have," retorted Elrohir, words meant to indict his father coloured in self-reproach. "Ten years you've had him and still you know nothing of how to treat him?" It was a low blow, for in truth neither he nor his brother would own such knowledge but for their long discussion with Lindir.

"If you aren't prepared to court him properly perhaps you aren't fit to remain his mate," added Elladan, a deliberate jab at his Adar's pride. As predicted, Elrond gave a violent start at these bold challenges.

"I am his mate, like it or not, and you two will let him be!" thundered the Lord of Imladris. Before him stood his rivals; the wise and patient parent transformed into a menacing, dominant male.

"Are you certain?" goaded Elrohir, sharing a glance with his brother. There was a slight shift in their disposition reminiscent of the tense gathering of strength before plunging into battle. "If so then why does he long for our touch? How is it we had him eating from our very hands?"

"He is very, very hungry, Adar," added Elladan, his suggestive tone verily saturated with lust and longing.

A sharp gasp fled Elrond's lungs and he staggered back, for now he recalled something else about Legolas' impassioned speech: the scent of arousal. A heady hint of his sons' musky essence drifted in the atmosphere, too, and he could no longer deny it. "Nay," the elven Lord whispered and felt his spirit crumble even as his head dropped and his shoulders sagged. Legolas loved him and only him; how could this be happening?

"It isn't his fault," Elladan was quick to intrude on the gloomy thoughts he could see collecting in his father's heart. "No one is to blame. Truly we did seduce him but only to prove a point, to him and to you. Legolas is suffering terribly, Adar, and it is up to us to help him."

"All of us," chimed Elrohir as he reached for his father, drawing him down to sit on the grass. His relief to have reached this stage of the conversation unscathed was shared wordlessly with his brother. "His love for you must be tremendous, for according to Lindir it should be impossible for instinct such as this to be denied. We believe sincerely in that and rejoice for you both, and for the child."

"Then why?" Elrond's voice cracked and from the fissures oozed the bitter residue of this painful betrayal.

"Forgive us; we needed proof of that devotion. We've not been here to see the two of you together and the poisonous desire lingers in our veins, making us reluctant to consider the possibility that his heart is beyond our reach," explained Elladan.

"To say nothing of the guilt we both feel for desiring it," Elrohir elaborated their dilemma. "There's no thrill in this lechery but we find it impossible to quell. We are suffering, too, Ada."

"But he…he wants you?" Elrond didn't even attempt to hide the terrible grief this realisation provoked, looking from one to the other of his sons. "How can he love me and still desire another?"

"No, Legolas does not want us," Elrohir said and then shook his head with a frown, "or rather I should say he does not WANT to want us, but it is beyond his ability to control. It all goes back to that day in Eregion, Adar. None of us really understood what was happening; even you tried to deny the urge and fend off the need to bond with him until there was no other option. Had you coupled with him at once, before we got so involved, this situation would never have come to pass."

"We would have forgotten the unreasoning craving or at least remembered it only instead of experiencing it daily," Elladan's statement was packed with the frustration of this reality.

"I caused this?"

"Nay, not purposefully so, Ada," the elder twin reassured. Never had he seen his father so vulnerable and the sight went right to his heart. He leaned forward to clasp Elrond's arm in a comforting grip and offered a slender smile of encouragement. "You thought it would be wrong to engage in such a carnal act with someone wounded, unable to give consent.

"We thought the same, for we couldn't comprehend that the very call of his body to ours was consent in itself, so near was he to death. We were all trying to fight off the overwhelming lust while hoping to preserve his life and subconsciously plotting to be the one to claim him."

"Aye, even me, though I have pretended the opposite all this time," Elrohir admitted, reaching for Elladan's hand as he did so. The answering squeeze made him smile, though sadly, as he continued. "There's no need to recite the events that transpired, the harm that was done." Elrohir could not contain the rancour these memories generated and heavy silence followed his words as each one relived those tormenting days and their unthinkable conclusion.

It was not a thing any son wished to witness, his father petting and stroking an overtly aroused male, especially one nearly insensible from blood loss and poison, yet just this scene had met the brothers upon returning from seeking the source of the contaminant. They had hastily concluded their reconnaissance of the area, drawn by a curious need to be close to the fallen elf, and there was Elrond bent over the prone, naked figure, licking and biting the unknown warrior's ears, fist wrapped around both his and the archer's penis, rapidly pumping as he groaned and rocked into the motion. The odour of their combined release overprinted the air and left a lingering tinge of disgust and shame. Elrond had dared to meet his sons' horrified stares while wiping the cooling ejaculate from his hand.

He'd explained about the sylvan way and justified his actions as a lesser means of saving the sole survivor of the Orc attack, offering a limited intimacy that he hoped would assure the archer he was cared for while refusing to force a union upon someone he didn't know. Really, it was just an excuse; Elrond had no idea if such a method would succeed. He simply couldn't deny his own craving and had given in using the least offensive means he could think of to achieve satisfaction without hurting his patient.

At first it seemed to work. The warrior lapsed into unconsciousness but his condition stabilised. The trio of Noldorin lords established a secure camp and cared for the horses. Elrond wandered off, seeking roots he needed to create an antidote; Elrohir left to tend to the dead; and Elladan remained with the patient. It was not long before he'd felt the tingling beginnings of passion and erotic visions of coupling with the pale, golden-haired sylvan occupied his thoughts. In vain he sought to ignore them. Telling himself he meant only to assuage poison-induced fever, Elladan had bathed the battered body, cleaning away blood, dirt, and semen, discovering the secret hidden behind the scrotum, fingers probing and penetrating that most private domain.

His touch had aroused the elf and lured his exhausted mind out of oblivion. Drawn by the attar emitted as he explored the hot, slippery hole, Elladan was soon sampling the flavour of the resultant secretions, his tongue invading, retreating to sweep over the sensitive sac, lapping inside again, gliding up to savour the quickly filling shaft. Pressing hard against the glans elicited a more strident cry and a sever jolt wracked the suffering warrior. Elladan raised his head and met the startled and frightened blue eyes in which unbidden yearning glittered. Instantly, repugnance filled the elder twin's heart as he realised what he was doing. He fairly bolted from the elf, wiping at his lips and grabbing up the water skin to try and rinse away the musky aftertaste. On top of this fell the burden of guilt for betraying his true soul-mate in such a way, for while nothing more happened he was hard as iron.

The sylvan's need did not abate and neither did Elladan's, though he stayed well away on the other side of the camp, masturbating until he came in shuddering humiliation, alternately biting his arm to keep silent and clutching at the grass to refrain from hastened back to soothe the troubled warrior's plaintive moans of pain, those softly pleading cries of desire. Elrond arrived first and found them like that. An unreasoning, jealous rage flooded every nerve of his body and he berated his eldest in scalding terms of condemnation and contempt, ordering him away to assist Elrohir in the chore of burial. Because he was so consumed in his own remorse, Elladan obeyed. As soon as he was gone, Elrond repeated his initial manual stimulation and once more spent himself over the prone body, wringing a trembling but dry orgasm from the depleted sylvan in return.

Again the suffocating miasma of gnawing avidity subsided and the Wood Elf seemed to rally. When the twins rejoined their sire, a palpable grief cloaked their brows and in Elrohir's eyes swirled a fury such as had never dwelled before, save when he'd found the Orcs who'd violated his naneth. Elrond didn't ask what had passed between them and concentrated on developing the desperately needed cure. The tension between the trio increased after that, each one distrusting the other, watching for any sign of untoward contact with the ailing elf, looking for any excuse to send the rest away and have him alone. In this Elrond believed he would be victorious, for he drugged his sons' water skins with a strong sedative, ostensibly to force them to sleep and forego their animosity. Unbeknownst to him, Elrohir switched the containers and the healer only succeeded in medicating himself and the older twin.

Elrohir's rationale had seemed logical; he was the only sane one of them left, the only one immune to the unseemly urges, and it was up to him to protect everyone from the strange sylvan magic. Of course, that was what he needed to believe. Mere minutes after the other two fell into slumber he succumbed to the same instinctive hunger. All that they had done he repeated, but then self-reproach consumed him, seeing the elf shivering in the aftermath of his attentions, staring at him with confusion and alarm. Elrohir had straightened himself up and set about doing what he could to calm the patient, and when his father and brother awoke they found him gently applying a fresh bandage to the oozing wound in the sylvan's thigh.

Both Elrond and Elladan accused Elrohir of treachery and he denied it fully, refusing to acknowledge that he, too, had shared his passion with the Wood Elf. Elrond's quick examination proved Elrohir had not penetrated the patient's body yet Elladan felt his trust had been violated, for he knew the truth. They argued loudly and the words uttered were such that Elrond could not bear to hear them while the sylvan, coherent for the moment, frantically tried to get to his feet and flee. The healer restrained him easily enough but had to add his own shouting voice to the dreadful cacophony in order to get the twins to cease. They withdrew in sullen silence to opposite ends of the camp and their father resumed treatment of the wounded warrior.

The first try at counteracting the toxin failed; indeed, the effect worsened the sylvan's condition and he slipped into a deep coma. Alarmed, all three Noldorin Lords felt the surge of pheromones as the expiring soul reached one last time for renewal. Elladan and Elrond found themselves face to face across the prone body, each one readying themselves to mount the warrior, each prepared to subdue the other to achieve that goal. Elrohir gave a shout of such rending rage and torment that it stopped them cold. He snatched at Elladan's arm, jerking him away, throwing him into the dirt, diving atop him, pounding him with his fists as he shouted curses and named him all manner of vile things he could conjure in such a state of mind.

While they fought, Elrond seized the opportunity to thrust his cock into the weakening ellon, rutting wildly as he moaned kisses into pliant lips. He reached his peak quickly and gathered his mate to him, breathing hard, dizzy in the aftermath of his soul's sudden burden, frightened by the transference of essence, shocked by the loss of independence in the mingling of their feär.

As soon as the twins realised what had happened, they polarised yet again over the cause of the unseemly bond, but together they denounced the union and scorned the elf both had so much desired just moments ago. Still, they were not completely devoid of honour and loyalty; they remained and aided their father, guarding the camp and providing food and water until the sylvan was strong enough to survive the ride back to Imladris. They kept their lingering hunger to themselves, refusing to discuss it even with each other. Once home, they turned their anger and humiliation outward, declaiming against Legolas' presence, although mostly it was Elrohir's doing.

With a simultaneous sigh all three completed that walk through the past and found themselves no closer to resolving the strife their selfless wish to aid another had initiated.
"I thought the yearning ended between you and him," said Elrond, "afterall, I was the one who consummated the bond. You've been so hateful," he directed his sight to his younger son for that.

Elrohir coloured and dropped his gaze. "True enough. No doubt we convinced ourselves it was the sense of betrayal in seeing another take Naneth's place, yet my anger was fuelled by something else entirely. Did you never consider it could be jealousy that spawned such hatred?" He lifted his head and searched his father's eyes for an answer, acknowledging it with a sad half smile. "No, you didn't want to think of that any more than we did."

"My bond to him is not false," conviction returned to Elrond's tone for that was a truth he would not deny. Legolas had conceived a child by him; what greater proof could he present?

"Yes, but we had already invoked a similar link to some extent also," answered Elladan. "We both spilled with him, tasted his essence, did all but penetrate him. Our bond with him is not as strong, but it easily might have been…"

"…would have been but for the love we already share," appended Elrohir. He did not miss the way Elrond's lips compressed and his eyes narrowed at this open reference to their relationship. "We resisted even as Legolas does now, because of that love he bears for you."

"According to Lindir, what we experienced with Legolas did impart some of our light to him. I don't think I need to tell you how that feels, the aching emptiness that arises if separated for very long," said Elrohir with a shuddery sigh. "We have been parted over ten years now: from our home, our family, from him, from each other. We are weary of it; this cannot go on."

"You discussed this with Lindir?" Elrond was not happy with that thought.

"Aye. Turns out he's a Green Elf and not Sindarin. Didn't you know?" retorted Elladan sarcastically. "Our perceptive minstrel asserts there is a way to heal such soul-wounds. Spirit longs to touch spirit and the only way to do that is to couple with him. We need to cement this bond, as does Legolas. When we are near, his body turns on that sylvan chemistry and he is as lost in it as we are." He hoped that reminder would soften the shock of his blunt porposal.

"Then perhaps you should not be so near," Elrond's voice was hard and bitter. The fact that he was suggesting his sons permanently depart from their home and family was lost on none of them. He couldn't help it; his eldest had just demanded sexual access to his mate and he could not get past his resentment.

"If only it were so simply resolved," intoned Elrohir, "but unfortunately it isn't for us. We will be forever plagued with this need to reunite with that part of ourselves which he possesses. We need him in a manner none of us can reconcile, none of us: not you, not Elladan and I, not even Legolas. For we have been brought up to believe it is wrong to join with the mate of another and he has learned this bias from you."

"You would name so grave a sin mere bias?" scoffed Elrond in disbelief. Where were the sons he'd raised? Who were these Elves so brashly insisting that his beloved ought to be theirs?

"We have learned that 'sin' is a term with a largely subjective definition. What others deem a vile abomination is the only thing that sustains us," Elrohir paused and gauged his father's reaction before continuing. "You are aware of our unique bond, a bond of soul-mates like to the one you share with Legolas."

Elrond winced, his features contorting as if in pain. Of course he knew; everyone in the Last Homely House did and probably many of the valley's citizens were likewise aware of his sons' incestuous desires. Knowing about it was bad enough; discussing it openly was, in a word, unspeakable and the harried father wasn't sure he could handle this on top of the other looming issue.

"Lindir spoke of elves already bound to someone else who have endured such life-threatening injuries," Elladan went on. "If their mate is not present at that moment, another will be drawn to salvage them. Sometimes the bound elf rejects the offered light and perishes, sometimes not. When this additional union is allowed, it remains as a secondary connection and the three elves then become entangled in a rather complicated relationship, sharing one another, body and soul."

Elrond did not like the way his mind told him this conversation was turning and held up a hand to make them stop. "Legolas wasn't bound to anyone else beforehand. He is bound to me and that is how it shall remain."

"He was not bound to you when this happened, Adar, and there is no point denying it any longer. His soul was receptive to any light and readily took what little we lent of ours. We are a part of him and he knows it now, too. I'm sure he's quite disturbed, thinking how this will hurt you, fearing you will reject him and the babe," Elrohir opined.

"Aye," Elrond sighed, lowering his head to carefully rub at his brow as if he'd sustained a blow and the spot was fragile. He took a deep breath and met their eyes bravely. "I understand all this, but I do not want to share my Legolas with anyone, not even you two. Perhaps especially not you two."

"At least you're honest about it," said Elladan, "and I might accept that decision except for the pain it is giving Legolas. He is feeling this same hollow ache, Adar, and on top of that he feels guilty as if he's done some wrong to you."

"And to us, as well, though he is thoroughly terrified of us both," continued Elrohir. "Lindir's description of sylvan culture tells of the acceptance of such bonds, for none are responsible for what Eru has ordained. This is how they are made and nothing can change that. For us, that idea makes a great deal of sense as you might imagine."

"He's a mess, Ada, frantic that he'll lose you if you learn of this, desperate to find some way to end the torment without betraying the strict moral code of Imladrian society…"

"…ashamed of needs that are completely natural to him and against which he has no defence, tormented by thoughts that he is being punished for surviving while all his comrades and kin perished…"

"…fearful of losing his child. We must help him allay these fears." As always when their emotions were high, the twins fell to completing each other's sentences, speaking the last in chorus.

Elrond looked from one to the other, convinced of the sincerity in their words yet still reluctant to permit anyone else to lie with his mate. In his heart of hearts, he feared Legolas would choose them over him, for they were young, attractive, and strong, virile warriors engaged in an eternal quest against evil, romantic figures sure to lure the impressionable youth. What if they proved to be better lovers? After all, they had been practising with each other for centuries while Elrond had not taken a male lover since his warrior days. As for Legolas, Elrond was his first and only partner; thus far he'd had nothing with which to compare their erotic escapades.

"He loves you, that is why you will not lose him," Elladan rightly guessed his father's secret dread and offered an encouraging smile when the lore-master's gaze met his.

"He is suffering and that is not good for the child. You're a healer; you know what will happen. He'll pour all his energy into nurturing the new life and when the time comes to deliver he'll die in childbirth," Elrohir used the opposite means of convincing his Adar. It was the correct choice, for Elrond's eyes grew wide in realisation of this possibility.

"There's every likelihood the babe will succumb to grief and expire before a ten-day, too. Is it worth such risks just to hold fast to customs established arbitrarily by folk in Ages past?" The elder twin quickly switched to his brother's argument.

"How often would this sharing take place?" Elrond finally said, cautiously trying out the idea. His heart suffered a twinge but he gritted his teeth against it. I mustn't lose him nor our babe. I couldn't bear such pain.

The twins exchanged a glance but refrained from displaying their triumphant relief. "I think that should be left up to Legolas, for such is the custom of his kind," said Elrohir gently.

"We will not intrude upon your place, Adar, for you hold his heart and the majority of his soul. You shall always remain the primary mate," added Elladan.

Primary mate! Elrond's mind was reeling; this was simply unheard of and his sense of propriety rebelled. He physically shook as if warding off a gruesome substance. "I had planned to marry him; he's agreed to it and wants to invite his family here. He fixed his mark upon me." Unconsciously his hand drifted to his temple and he caressed the tightly braided hair.

"Yes, we wondered about the new style," Elrohir smirked at the unusual arrangement. "I see no reason for any of that to change. His family won't mind about the triple bond for there must be others in Mirkwood who've undergone something similar."

"There is no need for us to be recognised in such a formal way," Elladan elaborated. "We are not suggesting that our private dealings with Legolas be announced to the people of Imladris."

"Indeed, he suffers enough abuse over the magic and enchantment he's worked on you. Imagine the fear he'll inspire if anyone learns we're ensnared, too," Elrohir joked.

"I don't know if I can do this," Elrond grimaced and stood up, putting some distance between his sons and himself, wrapping protective arms around his heart. Unbidden those memories resurfaced and he imagined Legolas and his sons naked together, spent and content. A convulsive shudder ran through his bones and he forced the image back. Would he have to watch them? Would he have to participate? Were they all going to take turns, penetrating Legolas one after the other? With a hoarse shout he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head violently to dispel the visions generated by such questions. "I can't do this!" he wailed and paced before the stream.

"We said as much to Lindir when he proposed this solution," admitted Elladan and rose.

"Perhaps you should speak openly with Legolas and find out his feelings for yourself," Elrohir joined his brother. "He's with our fair singer in the wooded glade."

"Go to him, Ada."

"He needs you."

Elrond stared at them blankly for a moment, registering their real concern for both him and the sylvan they so dearly coveted. That softened his heart and cooled his abhorrence, for he could see they were suffering. No matter the outcome, they were right; he had to talk to Legolas and get to the bottom of this maddening conundrum. It crossed his mind that perhaps there was another way to alleviate the recurring desires and he intended to interrogate his former mentor closely on the subject of sylvan customs and courting rituals. As his spirit calmed he felt the low, deep, sonorous thrumming near his heart that told him Legolas was calling, calling with an insistent and almost fearful intensity. All else was forgotten and Elrond turned from the stream, racing through the estate to reach his Wood Elf.

With identical bemused smiles the brothers watched the Lord of Imladris, robes hike up from around his feet and braided hair bouncing, tearing over the grounds and out into the surrounding wilds, heading for the little clearing where the sylvans of the valley were wont to seek solace in seclusion.

That was much easier than I thought it would be.

Aye, he hasn't really let it hit him yet. Denial is a powerful way to block out unpleasant reality.

Speaking from experience, Muindor?

As well you know. Don't pretend you are looking forward to watching Adar take him again.

Nay, no more pretending. It's serious, what we're going to do. He'll be our mate now, too.

Does it trouble you to share me that way?

Not anymore. I don't think of it as sharing you; I consider that we shall instead be sharing him.

I know what it is that has changed your mind.

Aye, I see it in your heart, too: an elfling of our own.

TBC

To ovoriel: Thanks for the review and I'm glad you're reading and enjoying. Hope this answers some of your questions, we won't get Lindir's side of it until later though. Don't worry he is looking out for Legolas even if it doesn't seem that way right now.

Adar, Ionath, Melethryn: Father, Sons, Lovers

Lim-dalu Aur: Flat-fish Morning

Mereth od Ened Ethuil: The Celebration of Mid-Spring

Naneth Nastaron: mother f-er

Pethron: narrator

Kwingarô nethrâ: Archer youthful - from a VERY ancient form of elvish

Ech Vrassen: White-hot Spear - lightning

elenille: little stars - sparks - from ancient elvish forms

Ernil o Gladgalan: Prince of Greenwood

Ceryn o Cabor: frog's balls

Minnon?: May I enter?

Lilta Nár: Fire Dance

Cundithen: Little Prince

Tawaro: spirit of the woods, dryad

Padathron Dalt: snail or slug - Slipping Walker

Tulus Iaur: Ancient Poplar

Pen Vrûn: Old One

GLOSSARY

NOTE: Allow me to repeat: the twins and Elrond will NOT be engaging in intercourse with one another! You have my solemn promise. Well. I's all out in the open now, past and present, almost. I hope it is very obvious that the nature of the sylvan bonding instinct arises from intimate contact, sharing of essence like blood, saliva, semen. The three Lords of Imladris certainly made that kind of contact with Legolas, though only Elrond achieved penetration and consummated the bond fully. The lingering biochemical reaction with the twins is not going to vanish. How the four deal with it is still to come, both immediately and in future.

Notice how they have made an abrupt change in attitude; this is not a mistake on my part. Once Lindir made it clear they needn't forsake the love they harbour for each other to have Legolas, they suddenly realised some unforeseen posibilities. It is more than the chance to have elflings of their own to cherish, however. They have an almost wistful envy of the fulfilment Legolas has brought to their father's life, the healing his heart has undergone whilst healing the Wood Elf's broken body and burdened soul. Their drastic adjustment in perception is not unlike the way Glorfindel suddenly came around. Has anyone guessed what's going on? Next, Elrond and Legolas have it out. We will have to wait a bit to understand Lindir's motivation, or at least all of it. My thanks to everyone for so much support on this story!

© 09/26/2007 Ellen Robey
- 11
- 12
- 13
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Aearlinn

NOTE: Do not let the title scare you off; the twins and Elrond will NOT be engaging in intercourse with each other, in this or any chapter.

Aearlinn - Adar, Ionath, Melethryn