Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

Aearlinn	By : narcolinde Category: -Multi-Age > General Views: 8916 -:- 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
- 13
- 14
- 15
Aearlinn - Mereth od Ened Ethuil

A bow, perhaps.

No, there's nothing in Imladris to equal the ones he already has.

All right, what about a dagger?

He has several of those, too. I think we should get a traditional sylvan courting gift like Lindir says.

We're Noldorin in manner and custom; shouldn't we give him something that signifies our heritage?

Why? Our heritage is mixed, anyway, so we can choose what we want.

This is supposed to be about what Legolas wants. Lindir says a comb is a traditional bonding gift.

Well, ours isn't going to be a traditional bonding. It has to be something special, something unique.

We don't know anything about him yet; what you say is impossible. Let's stick with something safe lest we offend him.

We've already spent ten years offending him; it's too late to prevent that.

What, then?

The twins argued in amicable silence as they strolled through the market square, casting appraising glances at various stalls and shop windows as they went. There were tailors and cobblers and armorers and smiths of all sorts among the population as well as bakers and butchers and florists, jewellers and tanners and artists of all kinds. Most made their wares available in the central square of the city everyday, some keeping permanent shops right in their homes. The streets were crowded for it was Ened Ethuil and many people were seeking a token to present to their desired partner for the night. Seeing the sons of Elrond browsing through the stalls was an uncommon event; normally the brothers knew what they wanted, went straight to the purveyor of said item, procured it, and left.

What do we know about him? He's a warrior, a Wood Elf. He loves to be outdoors all the time. He likes to play in water…

Ooooh! Water-sport! Do you think he likes that? He's terribly young and I doubt Adar has introduced anything unconventional into their love-making.

Ai! Daro, Muindoren! This is not the place for such thoughts.

Right. The gift. Well, what does it matter? He collects all kinds of oddments.

He loves plants and birds; remember that stack of pressed leaves and feathers?

Aye, and he likes frogs and other slippery, slimy things, too. None of those would make a fitting gift.

I can think of one slippery thing I'd like to give him that is most fitting.

Stop!

You were thinking it, too.

Never mind. How about a horse? He doesn't have one, does he?

Well, you've seen Ada naked; he fills out much as we do and thus Legolas does, indeed, already have a stud.

"Eru's Arse! You're impossible!" exclaimed Elrohir through grinning lips.

They were both overcome by a fit of giggles and drew one or two indulgent smiles from the passers-by. It was safe to say many were curious as to why they were there, for the brothers made no mystery of their disdain for everything concerning Legolas and had never been in Imladris for the festival. It was also possible that considerable conjecture arose as to whom they would be giving the gift for which they were obviously shopping. The news started to spread almost at once.

Stopping in front of Aegas Mírdan's shop, Elladan and Elrohir peered through the open door to find the place nearly packed. The brother's produced identical grimaces of disgust, having no desire to go in and have their purchase spied upon by what appeared to be half the valley's population of non-bonded elves. They stood in silent conversation for a minute and then turned sharply about and hurried off, making their way back to the Last Homely House, grinning as only a matched pair of exceptionally well-pleased Noldorin Lords can. Once back in their own grounds they went straight to their Naneth's old rooms and hauled out a small trunk from inside her closet. Carrying it into her parlour, they sat upon the sofa to search for treasure.

"This was an excellent idea," boasted Elladan as he opened the lid.

Inside were things Celebrian had left behind, articles she wanted her children to have in remembrance of her until they journeyed across the sea: books, some jewelled hair clips, a few rings and necklaces, bracelets of mithril. All of that she'd left for her children to sort between them and each had taken one or two items. Arwen always wore a hair clasp that had been Celebrian's favourite while the twins each wore a simple gold band hung from a chain about their necks: secret symbols of their bond. The rings had been in separate boxes each inscribed with a twin's name, each holding a ring with a note explaining she wanted them to be used at her sons' wedding ceremonies. Since that wasn't ever going to occur, they'd had a private ceremony of their own and since that day never had the tokens been removed.
Yet there was another tradition among the Noldorin folk regarding betrothal and marriage: that a father should give to his son's bride a fine gemstone borne upon a necklace, the mother to do the same for a daughter's bridegroom. Celebrian had chosen both the gems for her sons' mates and that for the future spouse of Arwen, knowing Elrond would select something too ostentatious. It was this for which they searched now and sure enough there were the identical boxes, one for Elladan and one for Elrohir. Clearly, not even Celebrian's foresight had permitted her knowledge of the twins' forbidden love. These gifts for their lady-wives would never be used as intended and thus the brothers hadn't bothered to investigate them before. Elrohir handed over the one with Elladan's name and took up his own. "You first."

Elladan nodded and lifted the small hinged lid, revealing a beautiful mesh of mithril, delicate and fine, a series of tiny links worked into a high, throat-hugging collar. At its center was a spectacular sapphire the size of his thumbnail; it winked and flashed even in the low light of the drawing room. The elder brother shook his head; it was magnificent but not something that could be worn everyday. "Perhaps yours is more fitting."

Elrohir sprung the lid and lifted out a long length of jade stones cut in the shape of small oak leaves, each one separated from the next by a golden acorn bead. At the center of the necklace hung an ornament of red and green jasper, a finely carved miniature of a swallow in flight, suspended from the tip of one outspread wing. For a moment they stared, evaluating the jewellery's potential, judging it appropriate for a sylvan elf yet not likely to be comfortable when worn underneath a close fitting tunic every day. Simultaneously, an idea erupted and the brothers' eyes met in obvious delight as a series of images flashed between them. They would dismantle the necklace to produce a simpler, less cumbersome one consisting of the swift born on a durable mithril chain. For this they didn't need the aid of the jewel-smith. It would be the perfect memento of their unique union to Legolas.

As for the rest, the jade leaves and golden acorns would be reworked later. Three matching hair clasps would be made, one for each, even though they knew Legolas probably wouldn't wear his unless he was alone with them, and for such occasions they had something else in mind. The twins envisioned the acorns secured with studs through the Wood Elf's nipples and the tips of his ears, delicate golden chains linking the piercings, trailing down from the sensitive points to his hips where the strands would encircle his waist in a gentle tri-part drape, joining together at the navel from which a cluster of three green leaves would dangle. One final length of chain would descend to connect with a mithril ring adorning the pinnacle of the sylvan archer's cock. That would be perfectly, erotically stunning.

They sighed in unison, the stirrings of arousal restrained as other considerations intruded, for who could they trust to pierce the Wood Elf and what would their father think of it? To say nothing of whether Legolas would agree to wear such a decadent design with its not so subtle implications of bondage and possession. Elladan replaced all their mother's trinkets, including the elaborate sapphire and mithril choker, sharing the idea that it would do well for their son's bride someday. As they rose from the settee movement out in the garden caught their notice. Legolas was striding across the lawn, no doubt heading for the cedar tree and their Adar's rooms. The brothers shared a look, Elrohir tucked the jewel case in his pocket, and they hurried out through the long glass doors into the yard. There was still much to prepare and the day was waning.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ While that little scene played out ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"In the ancient days, before the rising of Anor and Ithil, fire was something we feared greatly. It was believed to be a living thing, though its life was finite, spawned we knew not how and designed for the sole purpose of destroying that which Yavanna had so carefully wrought.
"What use had we for fire? The changing seasons have never been a hindrance to our comfort and in those days we consumed only plants, roots, and mast." Lindir spoke these age-old words, those that had been said on every Ened Ethuil he could remember, to the only one in Imladris who knew the litany by heart, and Legolas smiled to hear them.

"Were you there, Pethron?" he said his part on cue, pouring a little water on the next great boulder, water that had been blessed on the last Ened Ethuil and kept back for this purpose.

"Nay, Kwingarô nethrâ, but I have been told these words by my mother as she was told by her mother, down through the Ages to the very beginning of our existence when my First Mother lived." Lindir likewise had a skin of this sacred water and bestowed it upon the stone nearest him, moving to the next one as he waited for Legolas' contribution.

"What is her name, Pethron? Is she still living?"

"Her name I do not know, for too many years lie between her time and mine. She lives but no longer resides here in Middle-earth. She dwells now in Námo's Keeping, or perhaps she has been reborn and has her home beside the shore in Eldamar, there to welcome all of her lineage who venture across the sea."

"I weep for your loss but rejoice in the hope of her rebirth." Legolas paused and bowed deeply, hand across his breast.

Lindir bowed in turn. "My thanks to you; there is indeed cause for joy." There was a silent pause as they shared a smile, for both were thinking of Legolas' child. Dearly did Lindir want to question his friend on the decision to create life outside the bond of marriage but had no desire to censure Legolas. The singer was concerned, however, for he was certain the Wood Elf must have observed some signs or portents that convinced him to do so. Their quiet communion was broken only by the soft splatter of water upon the stones, a reverent moment to honour the ancient forebear who had witnessed the crucial events surrounding Ened Ethuil. Lindir began the narration anew.

"All was peaceful there beside the Holy Lake, until Ech Vrassen hurtled from the sky and set ablaze the woods behind the Ancient Ones. Our people fled in terror as the quiet darkness of the starlit pool was suddenly disrupted with a blinding yellow and orange gleam and in this strange light we could see the very air! Ech Vrassen had changed it, though, into a choking smog of black, acrid smoke that burned our lungs and stole breath instead of giving it.

"Some were curious and showed no fear, advancing into the heat to touch this new thing and learn its nature. Nae! They were consumed by this terrible entity, their screams of agony louder than the crackle and snap of the burning trees. In this way did the Ancient Ones leave the sacred place of awakening and search for shelter in the wide world beyond."

"Where did Ech Vrassen come from?"

"From the heavens."

"Is not this air above us the domain of Manwë?"

"We did not know him then anymore than we know him now, for he has never come among the sylvan elves. Arâramê told us of the Lord of Aman and of his brother, Melkor, who resided in some hidden place in the deeps of Arda, a thing elves could not understand then. We were told Melkor made Ech Vrassen to hurt us, for he was filled with envy for the power of creation and the love Iluvatar bore for the First-born. Melkor could not create and so he destroyed."

"What can we do, then, if a Vala seeks to destroy our world? How can we fight such an evil?"

"We cannot defeat such an enemy, that is true, yet Vala may contest against Vala. Melkor fashioned Ech Vrassen not from his own designs but those of Aulë the Smith. He learned how to create tension between the elements of the heavens and the elements of the earth, concentrating this energy until enough was gathered to make Ech Vrassen.

"Aulë was not pleased with this and spoke to Manwë, saying: 'How is it that the heat of my forges deep within the heart of the earth spoil the air and devour the open lands below? Likewise, Yavanna was angry, for all her hard work in growing the forest was ruined. The Lord of the Valar was himself disturbed, for Melkor was using his domain to render this weapon, and because he sought to destroy the Children of Eru.

"Yet he could not bring himself to harm his brother and instead appealed to Melkor, asking him to cease his savage enmity and join in correcting the errors he had unleashed. The Dark One would not listen and only increased his efforts, thinking to burn all of the earth until there was no place left for us to hide. Then Manwë met with Aulë, Yavanna, Ulmo, and Arâramê and they made a council of war. Manwë and Ulmo conspired to create great storms, stealing from the tension Melkor built to make clouds heavy with water. The rains fell over the earth in conjunction with Ech Vrassen and the strength of the fire was drowned under the force of the downpour.

"At the same time, Yavanna modified her trees, making them more resistant to flame, creating new ones that would scatter seed which could only be germinated after the searing of the fires. In this way she defied Melkor's destruction and stole from his devastation the power to make new life. Then Aulë took Arâramê down to his forges and taught him the skill of making fire. The Huntsman carried this knowledge to the First-born, showing us how to strike stone against stone to make elenille and how these could make bright tongues of little flames sprout from dry leaves and grass. The Ancient Ones were afraid at first, not understanding what the Valar wished them to learn."

"What was the teaching of Manwë and Ulmo?"

"That flames were not beings with thought and direction but rather restless tension between energies out of balance. Nor was fire invincible. Water defeated it; Earth defeated it. Flame was not to be feared nor must it be a source of evil."

"What was the teaching of Yavanna?"

"That even such dire loss of life need not be the end. She showed us how close we are to the great trees, for even in death they contain life, just as an elf may be killed in body but not in spirit. We create new life within our bodies that may house the sundered souls, or those who wish it may remain in Mandos until their hurts are healed and stay in Aman thereafter."
"What was the teaching of Arâramê?"

"The Hunter taught us to slay the lesser creatures of Yavanna when Ech Vressen destroyed the plants and trees. He revealed that fire can purify flesh and make it wholesome. Arâramê exhorted us to honour the animal from which it was taken, showed us how to use the hides to make clothing, the bones to make tools, the blood and entrails to nourish the land for green things to feed upon."

"Does fire now serve the First-born?"

"No, for service implies intent and fire has neither intellect nor will. It is part of our world; something to be kindled with caution and monitored for the duration of its life. It is to be kept bound within stone or iron lest it escape into the trees and devour them."

"Why do we celebrate Ened Ethuil with fire, then? We don't depend upon it for life nor for rebirth. We do not forge weapons or make ornaments from molten metal, as the Noldorin people and the Children of Aulë. We don't need it for heat and light as the Second-born."

"We do this to proclaim our mastery over it, to give thanks to the Valar who helped us achieve that victory, and to remember those who have departed from us by the hand of Darkness, whether the means of their death was fire, arrow, sword, or sorrow. This is Arda's season of renewal; let those conceived on this night of the fire become vessels for the unhoused spirits of loved ones lost."

"What must we do to bring this about?"

"Let lovers leap through the flames and ignite the seeds of passion even as wildfire's scorching heat frees the kernels from the cones, making new trees sprout and grow. They will lie together sharing the essence of body and soul while Ithil watches over them and the fire burns, consuming the offering of Tewair Nedir Aer, releasing the power locked in the bark and pith.

"At sunrise, all the wood must be consumed and the ashes buried to mark Canad Englennaid. Let the lovers bath at dawn in the sacred pool to cool their ardour just as Ulmo's rain quenches the raging inferno. May the water purify the couple's love for one another if a true bond is made and a child is conceived. If not, then let no ties remain betwixt the two beyond a coronar."

"Let it be as you have said, Pethron." Legolas concluded the rubric solemnly, pouring out the last of his water over the last of the thirty-six stones, for the fire ring was immense and the blaze from the bonfire would be visible throughout the valley. He sighed with satisfaction and met Lindir's gaze.

"You have done well here; I've not seen such an altar since my days in Region," the singer complimented his young friend, truly impressed for the stones of the ring were quite weighty and all were carefully cut and sanded smooth. It must have taken Legolas a lengthy span of days to construct Amon Naur all by himself.

"An entire coronar, labouring through many tours of Anor and Ithil without rest." Legolas answered the unspoken question with a rueful smile and a shake of his head.

Not everything was as it would be in Greenwood and some traditions had been eliminated to accommodate the more inhibited Noldorin folk. There would be no fire-jumping, for example. In the Woodland Realm this was a much favoured event, with all the young warriors competing. Prior to the festival, each would fashion a long, flexible wooden pole, the topmost end carved in the likeness of phallus. With these rods the elves would race toward the bonfire, waiting until the last moment to plunge the staff against the ground as they jumped, using the momentum to boost them high in the air. Everyone tried to leap the highest or farthest, some inventing acrobatic spins and loops as they catapulted through the bonfire, tongues of flame licking at their limbs and singing their braids. It was a mark of honour to pass through the blaze and land with a lighted torch made of the Nine Woods, a token to present to, and a sure way to impress, a desired mate.

Nothing of the kind would happen this night because the first year Legolas had conducted the ceremony, a few of the participants had failed to heed his instructions to get thoroughly wet before attempting the daring leap. One ellon's hair had caught fire and a maiden's gown had gone up in flames, leaving two frightened and burned elves. Instead, couples would dance an intricate spiral around the crackling fire, lighting their torches as the passed by the pyre, veering off and running away to prearranged spots of seclusion, there to enact the more carnal customs of the ritual.

"How did you convince Elrond to permit the mid-spring rites? I'm sure none of the elves of Imladris were familiar with the festival."

"Oh, that was the easy part; I didn't ask him."

Lindir's eyes grew huge and he laughed aloud at the audacity of the young archer. "Oh, how I wish I'd been here for the first lighting of the fire!" he exclaimed once he could draw enough air. "Does he know the meaning behind the ritual now?"

"Not from me," Legolas shrugged, turning to grab up the prepared wood to start building the bonfire. "He wouldn't have understood then and even now I'm not sure he can appreciate what this is all about. They don't believe in this form of rebirth."

"Ah, but they certainly appreciate the means of achieving it," intoned Lindir, sending Legolas a devilish smirk that was acknowledged with a snickery giggle, and joined the sylvan's task.

The kindling was already laid, being a cone of dried Willow branches. The next layer was composed of Fir, seasoned carefully yet not completely lacking in sap so that the flames would flare up bright and hot once the boughs caught. Next would be Hawthorne, followed by a thick layer of Hazel. Oak was then capped by Birch and between them were limbs of Apple and Rowan mixed together. Over all, a long trailing cascade of Grape Vines spiralled down to the ground. Once the construction was completed the two sylvans climbed down and stood back to admire their handiwork: the stack was a veritable tower nearly Lindir's not insignificant height, and was broad as a tree of two hundred year's growth. The blaze would be visible from every corner of the vale.(See List of Woods)

"I am indebted to you, Legolas, for I never thought I would see this festival again much less participate," said Lindir with genuine admiration. "I never had the courage to do such a thing when I was your age living among Maglor's people."

"My Adar would say I am stubborn and proud rather than brave, but he would say it with a great deal of paternal love and no lack of pride himself," laughed Legolas.

"Speaking of which, when are your kinfolk arriving?"

"Soon," Legolas shrugged, an enigmatic smile adorning his features as his hand moved to softly caress his abdomen. "I will send word tomorrow or the day after; the message should reach them in a week or so. The journey is long and arduous, especially with so many in the caravan, but surely in two complete cycles of Ithil's phases they will be here."

"I am so pleased for you!" Lindir smiled to see him peaceful for a change and spontaneously hugged the young woodland warrior.

He knew more about the pending visit from Mirkwood than his friend might imagine, for the minstrel had spent a bit of time conversing intensively with his beloved trees. As he'd hoped, they'd been curious enough over the new sylvan among them to investigate his antecedents. Tree-speech was slow, deliberate, exceedingly tactful and discreet, but over the course of ten years the valley's green citizens had learned almost everything there was to know about Legolas. The Wood Elf had needed someone to share his secrets with, after all, and while his wooden friends wouldn't reveal their privileged knowledge to just anyone, they considered Lindir the archer's kin and thus there was no breach of confidence in sharing with him.

As for the minstrel, he was content to let Legolas retain his anonymity as long as he wished. His smile became a tad malicious; the meeting of Elrond and the archer's family was sure to be a most interesting event. "I'm going to write a song for your wedding day. Will the news go by standard post or by bird?"

"Both, just to be sure. The messengers from Imladris don't like to go to Greenwood. More often than not, their idea of a successful delivery consists of tacking the missive to an outlying tree on the verge of the forest."

Lindir chuckled. "The messengers claim the woodland warriors shoot arrows at them; perhaps that is the cause for their hesitance."

Legolas sneered. "We do not shoot at them. If we shot at them, they'd all be dead. We shoot near them, a test of both wisdom and courage."

"Have any passed this test?"

"Aye, every one. They prove their fortitude and sense of duty by showing up at all, and their wisdom is as universally manifest. They drop their post and run." They shared a laugh at that and then fell silent for a while, each contemplating the result of their labours and their own thoughts. Finally Legolas stirred. "Lindir, about tonight, you are certain this potion will work?" he asked, reaching into his pocket for the small vial of lavender liquid.

"Yes, it's very potent. Once mixed with Lótessë Limpë Elrond won't notice the taste. It will make him very receptive but quite vague regarding particulars once the drug wears off."

"Is there enough to drug the twins as well?"

"I don't think they're going to need any help," remarked Lindir dryly.

"Aye, but I might. I don't really know what to do and I would rather have them be…controllable."

"You're worried? Ai! What an idiot I've been; of course you are. Set aside your fears; I've helped to raise them and they aren't as bad as they've presented in recent years. Normally, they aren't cruel or unkind in the least. Were they not gentle and benevolent this morning?"

"Aye, but I don't even know them, Lindir."

"Legolas, neither did you know Elrond when he claimed you. Trust me, penneth, instinct will take over and all will be well. It saddens me to hear you speak this way, but I understand. Rest assured; I have told them what they need to know. As far as the actual coupling, I think you should trust them to take care of you. You will not be hurt and I promise they will see to it you enjoy their attentions."

"I appreciate that, gwador, yet I still think it will be easier to manage this multiple bond if none of my mates remember anything too distinctly. I have to sit down and eat with them and act as if all is normal. No one in Imladris is to know of this except for you and the four of us."

"It is normal, for a sylvan elf," argued the singer.

"Aye, but it isn't all that common even for Wood Elves, and the Lords of Imladris have not one iota of sylvan blood, despite their interestingly blended heritage."

"That they will admit to, anyway," inserted Lindir.

"Be that as it may," Legolas heaved a tired sigh, "Please, Lindir, for my own peace of mind?"

"Very well, I will make a second batch of the drug for you. Now, it's getting late and you're not ready. Go gather what you need and change your garments; I'll get the aphrodisiac and the wine safely to the clearing. When the time comes, make sure they each drink a full glass."

"I will," averred Legolas. "Hantanyel, Tjalañgando. I am in your debt, myself and all my heirs and all my ancestors, here and across the Sundering Sea, until the world changes." With that he knelt on the ground and bowed his head to the very grass.

Lindir gasped in shock as he quickly bent to pull the young elf up on his feet, honoured and at the same time fearful of such a vow. Even more, he was stunned to hear this name for him pass Legolas' lips, for none had called him that since the days of torment in Doriath. "Saes, that isn't necessary between brothers; haven't you already named me 'gwador'? Even so, you make my ears ring, for how did you know to call me Tjalañgando? I haven't spoken that word since my mother perished; it's the name she chose for me."

Legolas smiled, shrugged, and embraced his friend all at once. "It's a mystery; as is how you learned Galbreth's nick-name for me was Kwingarô. We must ask Naneth when she arrives, for she is something of a seer." With that he turned and sprinted from the hilltop.

It didn't take him long to reach the Last Homely House where he entered Elrond's suite by his usual method: up the cedar tree near the balcony, jumping the two metres between the branches and the rail with ease. No one was in the bedroom nor would he expect to find Elrond there, for he was busy preparing for the wedding ceremony of the mortals. Legolas would not be attending that, feeling the whole proceeding was a farce given what he knew of Denethor. His heart ached for the Lady of Dol Amroth's unhappy fate and he loosed a sombre sigh into the room as he went to his wardrobe and pulled wide the door.

There was the formal costume he'd commissioned, the fur-trimmed grey velvet robe, midnight blue leggings, and rose-coloured tunic. Legolas smiled, running his fingers over the salt-and-pepper pelt at the cuffs of the sleeves; he loved this outfit very much as it was made in the style common to his native land. He would not wear shoes, of course, and his hair would have to be carefully bound to protect it from the fire, yet he believed he would look quite becoming and hoped Elrond agreed.

Before he could prevent it, he found himself wondering what the twins would think. The idea made his stomach wrench in nervous anticipation, for while he could not deny the attraction he felt neither could he forget Elrond's anger. It was one thing to succumb to the dire need of his expiring soul, another to go willingly into the arms of his mate's sons. It hurt his heart to do this, and truly he wondered if he'd be able to follow through with it.

Perhaps the additional bond to the twins will lend me strength. They did seem protective of my babe. He gave himself this hopeful thought, not entirely believing it. Inhaling deeply, Legolas held the breath and silently recited a mantra designed to still the mind and quell such daunting tribulations. As he exhaled the air, he expelled all the fear with it. Calmer, he hastened to change clothes and gather Elrond's Ened Ethuil gift. It was then he realised he had no gifts for Elladan and Elrohir.

"Ai Valar, this it too complicated," he complained aloud, setting aside the box and pulling open his treasure drawer to see if there was anything suitable.
His eyes alit upon the anklet made from the troll-teeth turned to gemstones. The delicate lavender colour was that hue seen in the western sky during iavas at the completion or Arien's daily trek. There was a hint of this shade in Elrohir's eyes and that decided him instantly. Grabbing up the jewellery, he went to Elrond's clothes press and quickly rifled through the drawers, seeking the matching article he'd presented to his love on the anniversary of their bonding, a day which Elrond had never yet acknowledged, the day of Galbreth's death, the day he'd chosen for their elfling's conception. Elrond would never even notice the anklet was missing. He found it and with a small sigh of contentment wrapped both up, each in a separate parcel of parchment, as he hadn't anything else to use.

It didn't matter; the twins wouldn't care about the paper. The gifts would be appreciated for what they were: pledges of loyalty and devotion to their homeland. Legolas believed they would wear these tokens and found the mental image of the bared, paired, bejewelled ankles gave him a thrill. He shoved the vision from his mind, gathered up the box for Elrond, retrieved his flint and striker, and turned to leave from the balcony. Before he reached it he halted, spotting a small white folded parchment resting on the pillow of the bed.

Hesitantly he moved to retrieve it, knowing it would be for him, dreading to see who had left it. He sighed in relief upon recognising Lindir's hand as he took it up and turned it over. His name was upon it and the seal was unbroken. Inside was but a short note, in Nandorin just for extra caution, exhorting him to hasten to the clearing in the woods regarding the matter of the twins. Legolas frowned; hadn't they discussed everything that was to occur? What more could there be to say? Indeed, this note must have been left much earlier, before he'd met with the minstrel to build the tower for the bonfire. Still, Legolas thought it best not to disregard the request in case there was something important Lindir had forgotten to impart. He pocketed the note and leapt from the balcony.

The trees were happy for him, sighing out congratulations and encouragement. The pink and white dogwoods lauded him with intermittent falls of flowers, the petals spiralling gently in the warm air before landing at the path before his feet. Legolas gazed about curiously; seldom were the woods of Imladris so outspoken in the afternoon, preferring the dawn to the sunset as waning light made them sleepy and slow. The Wood Elf made sure to offer his thanks as he walked, catching a cherry-red blossom and settling it behind his ear. The genial welcome eased his worries; at least these among Imladris' residents understood and accepted his nature.

Of course, the trees knew of the encounter about to transpire in the grassy glen and were perhaps pleased for something other than archery practise and gloomy confrontations to grace their space.

Before long, the song of the woods was joined by the pleasing strains of a harp playing in the distance. Legolas smiled, the mystery solved; Lindir had promised him a song and wanted to let him hear it first in their shared domain. This air, however, was not the newly composed tune but an ancient one he knew well: the Lay of Thingol and Melian. He broke into song as he walked for it was a favourite ballad among sylvan folk. The lyrics formed a romantic poem wrapped within a sweetly lilting melody evoking thoughts of eternal devotion, undaunted love, and the courage to accept a fate unlooked for and unprecedented. Yet though he enjoyed this carol as much as any Wood Elf, Legolas' voice faltered and fell silent as soon as he entered the clearing, for it was not Lindir strumming the strings of the lute.

There upon the grass reposed the twin Lords of Imladris and it was Elladan who held the harp. His eyes were bright with welcome but he didn't speak, instead plucking an exultant chord and a graceful arpeggio to honour the sylvan's entrance. Beside him, Elrohir smiled and lifted his hand in that same, child-like wave he'd made by the brook. Legolas found it surprisingly endearing and smiled back as the younger brother raised a small silver flute to his lips and began to accompany Elladan. Legolas resumed the lyrics and now Elladan smiled, no small amount of relief evident in his fathomless eyes, adding his deeper baritone to underscore and echo the younger elf's fair voice.

Legolas stood where he was and gazed in wonder for the plain little glen was transformed. Garlands of flowers were draped amid the branches of the surrounding trees and trailed to the ground. The delicious scent of abelia, calycanthus, and buddleia perfumed the air, bunches of the fragrant blossoms fastened to the frame of a beautifully arched bower made from apple wood, the rough branches bound together with long lengths of ivy, honeysuckle, and wisteria vines. Woven through the rugged trellis were gossamer panels of silk fabric, sheer drapes of yellow and white gauze that billowed gently when the breeze drifted through the scene. Beneath this canopy was an elaborate collection of cushions upon a pallet of downy feathers ticked in bold red satin, all trimmed and tasselled with golden threads. On a white square of linen beside stood a basket from which the neck of a wine bottle projected, hinting of other delicacies.

At either side of this small pavilion sat a twin, dressed identically in simple clothing. Plain, loose white silk shirts fell open at the neck to reveal smooth, pale skin and a glint of gold where each wore a simple chain necklace against his breast. Beneath these the brothers wore comfortable pants of black satin. No shoes were on their feet and their midnight hair was unbound, framing their comely features, falling in thick luxuriance about their shoulders. Calm and confident, they radiated a reassuring dominance that was natural and protective rather than overbearing and manipulative. Legolas didn't feel diminished in their presence, as he usually did, and realised the clinging aura of power did not derive from subjugating others but arose from a sense of real purpose and responsibility. They were not here to take or to hurt but to give, to comfort.

Legolas relaxed considerably; there was nothing of the grim, embittered Orc-slayers about them this day and the twins had obviously gone to great effort to make the setting for this rendezvous welcoming and agreeable. All was rendered in the sylvan way, no doubt based on Lindir's direction, yet the decor was subtly their own, bearing the mark of their unique interpretation of the traditional bonding bower. Such opulence of silk and satin would hardly be found in the Woodland Realm and the pavilion rested upon the grass instead of amid the branches above, yet the thoughtfulness of their intent warmed Legolas' soul. He found he was drawn to them. Slowly he moved forward, still singing, eyes alternating between matched sets of mesmerising grey irises, flickering to the tempting triangles of bare chest, his pulse increasing as each step closer made the scent of their desire more evident.

The trio concluded the ballad with a flourish and then all three were silent, gazing at one another intently. Legolas had stopped as the last note dwindled away and stood a scant metre distant, uncertain what to do, and neither twin dared move for fear of scaring him off. At last Elrohir spoke, his voice softened not by design but by the nature of his emotions, which were at once grateful, protective, and avidly passionate.

"There is much we would say to you, Legolas, if you would grant us the honour to sit for a time and listen," He raised his hand and held it out in invitation for the sylvan to join them, cautious to make the motion open and fluid. Even so, he noticed the small flinch in the Wood Elf's frame and the bright spark of fear that lit his blue eyes. You see, he is terrified of us.

"Speak, and nothing more," assured Elladan calmly, "unless you wish otherwise. Come and rest a moment with us; hear what we would tell you." He rose and set aside the harp, then stooped under the bower, retrieving a small square cushion which he placed on the ground one step away from Legolas' feet, noting the delicate grace of the long slender appendages as he sat back again. It required every bit of his resolve not to touch them. We will remedy that today and he will fear us no more.

"As you wish," murmured Legolas and slowly took that single stride, understanding the implications; they wanted a clear sign of his open consent. He lowered himself to the pillow in gradual increments, vision locked to theirs the while. Their intent was all too obvious despite Elladan's promise, for surely that petal-strewn mattress could serve but one purpose. Lindir was a clever conspirator and yet Legolas wasn't angry; had he not doubted his ability to willing go to these unlikely suitors? Perhaps it was better this way; perhaps it was the only way. Another second or two of silence followed.

Elladan mentally elbowed Elrohir, who cleared his throat. "We wish to apologise, Legolas. We're quite ashamed of the things we've said…"

"…It's too soon to forgive us; we're certain you can't believe these words yet…"

"…but we will prove their truth to you in time. We need to tell you how deeply we regret all this turmoil that's surrounded you.…"

"…You know we're mostly to blame for it and we want to acknowledge that guilt openly. We are going to work as actively to undo the harm as we did to inflict it.…"

"…We are to be your mates and you ours. It is not a thing we take lightly…"

"…and though it must remain secret, we will honour you in our hearts as hervinn should…"

"…while publicly we will respect our Adar's hervenn and our little brother's odhron. We have a bonding gift for you." This last they spoke in unison as Elladan turned and rummaged in the basket, producing a small leather jewel case. With matched smiles they edged closer as the elder brother held out the offering.

A bonding gift, not merely a token for Ened Ethuil! Legolas felt his heart leap. No excuses, no rationalisation; just a simple, direct apology acknowledging their error and asking the indulgence to make it right. He approved such a forthright manner and appreciated the respect for him such an address denoted.

He reached for the gift, a moment of uncertainty making him pause; to accept meant accepting all, yet he couldn't resist. A jolt of energy coursed through him as his fingers grazed over the lethal elegance of the elder swordsman's hand, not realising he had caught and held his breath until he had to release it to inhale again. With bemused dismay he saw that his own grip trembled as he raised the hinged lid up but immediately forgot his embarrassment as he peered at the fine ornament revealed.

"Ah!" he exclaimed in surprise, for it was not a ring, discarding the box as he lifted out the necklace, flashing each twin a look of genuine delight. "This is wonderful," he added, and faltered for only the briefest of seconds as he slipped the chain over his head. "How did you know I am descended of Noss Tuilinn?" The happy expression in his eyes took on shades of shy encouragement, for he had just signalled accord with this union.

Elladan and Elrohir shared a silent moment of triumph and nodded in concert, smiling back at the sylvan. "That looks even lovelier than we imagined it would," commented Elladan and leaned closer to take up the small charm upon his fingers. "We didn't know; the pendant was designed long ago by our Naneth, before ever you were imagined much less conceived. She is Galadriel's daughter, so perhaps some foresight governed her choice."

Legolas did not shrink from him and Elladan's expression grew bolder. With a swift motion he tucked the necklace beneath the Wood Elf's rose tunic and simultaneously impressed the lightest of kisses upon surprised but pliant lips. A surge of warmth suffused him to behold the blush that stole over Legolas' face, to see him touch the tingling remnant of fleeting pleasure the unexpected contact rendered. You see, he doesn't abhor us after all.

"Aye, you look magnificent," whispered Elrohir, shifting closer, nuzzling the fair cheek, catching his breath as Legolas responded in kind. Together the brothers divested him of the glorious outer robe, taking it up and carefully folding it. "That's more comfortable, isn't it?" asked Elrohir, unable to keep the desire from his voice even at such soft timbre.

Legolas nodded, his mouth too dry and his thoughts too scattered for speech, for Lindir was correct and all his inhibitions melted away in the heat of instinctive yearning. Tentatively he reached out to touch Elrohir's hair.

The thick ebony locks slid through his fingers, gloriously rich with light, shimmering with myriad metallic colours like the wings of a raven caught in the sun, and the younger twin shuddered. That sent a thrill through Legolas and without even thinking he fisted the strands and pulled Elrohir to him, stealing a quick kiss that became a restless exploration of cheek and jaw. He found his lips nibbling at an ear tip, brought out of his haze of desire by the low, deep moan his efforts raised. He sat back to discover that while he was busy sampling Elrohir, Elladan had managed to unlace his tunic.

The brothers took hold of the hem and whisked the garment over their fair lover's head, baring his upper body. With mutual sighs they smiled, moving closer as two set of hands caressed the pale skin, lovingly exploring, tenderly examining faded scars and patches of pink, evidence of torments old and new. Simultaneously each lightly brushed a nipple, delighted when Legolas reacted with evident pleasure, inhaling and squaring his shoulders to enhance the erotic lure of tight ripe points, red and erect. Elrohir bent to claim lips that parted for him readily, humming out in excitement as Legolas' tongue met and stroked his.

Elladan separated them to sample the sylvan's mouth passionately this time, pinching the sensitive node under his fingers as Elrohir exploited an exposed ear-tip. Then they switched, Elladan lapping at the other ear as Elrohir kissed the sylvan. They shared Legolas this way, taking turns at his mouth, his ears, his throat; hands stroking golden skin of abdomen and chest, sides and arms, fingers plucking nipples and poking his navel. Legolas could only hold on, one hand tangled in each twin's hair, overwhelmed by the sensations. While practising this sweet seduction, Elrohir worked loose the ties to the Wood Elf's leggings and when next the two drew back the brothers eased the pants off. Legolas was naked.

He blushed to see them both grinning over his blatant erection and gasped when Elladan reached out and took hold of him. The older twin met his eyes with twinkling delight and pumped twice before letting go so Elrohir could do the same. Then they laced their fingers together, enclosing his shaft in a single grip of both hands, and slowly worked him. Legolas leaned back on one arm and felt one of them encircle his waist for support; which one he cared not. He struggled for air, senses on fire, enthralled by the sight of the combined grasp and the exquisite pressure building, wishing one of those thumbs would sweep across the glans, but neither did. Just as he arrived at the brink of release the pleasing stimulation ceased. He sagged in a boneless heap, head lolling back against Elrohir's chest.

They smiled at his frustrated moan and the disapproving, enquiring glare sent their way.

So quiet!

He almost came before we realised.

"No need for hurry," stated Elrohir, pulling Legolas up on his knees, fondling the tight sac crowded up at the base of the archer's cock. The jerky shiver that rocked the slender body made him smile. "Liked that, did you?" he breathed against a flushed ear as he kissed it, and fisted the silky penis again.

"Aye!" Legolas really hadn't sufficient presence of mind to utter anything more. Impatiently he pawed and pulled at the clothes, lapping and sucking Elrohir's neck as he did so, but the elf made no effort to disrobe. Suddenly Elrohir turned him around and Legolas found himself flush against Elladan's bare chest, his erection hard, the head slick, the vein pulsing where it pressed against his stomach. He sidled closer; Elladan's balls were hot within the smooth sac, the weight of them substantial when they slid against his cock. Legolas inhaled a shaky breath, palms gliding over the firmly muscled torso, relishing the contrast of solid strength and trembling passion as they passed over engorged nipples.

The same hands that had so ably played the harp-strings now wrapped around Legolas' upper arms and pulled him closer; he was caught by the light of desire in the darkened eyes boring into his. Elladan flexed his hips as he lunged for Legolas' mouth and they locked together, the sylvan's arms encircling the broad shoulders, fingers slipping beneath the heavy fall of onyx tresses to cup the curve of his scull. They rocked together, lips urgently mimicking the carnal fusion both longed for, until a new sensation jarred Legolas from the erotic fugue. A second virile male crushed against his back, the potent shaft settling in the crevice of his buttocks, one arm possessively forcing a way in to encircle his waist, eager fingers tugging away hair to expose his neck, teeth nipping, lips sucking.

Legolas broke from Elladan's demanding tongue, the shock forcing a cry from him at last. Both his lovers exulted in it, responding with approving groans of desire. His eyes opened wide as they simultaneously leaned over his left shoulder and shared a hungry kiss between them, the sight unlike anything he'd ever imagined. Never in any of his fantasies had he experienced such an ardent thrill; he wanted them both. He shifted, knees sliding apart in the grass, and sank down a little before straightening back up, the press of their bodies stroking all three cocks at once. In concert the trio uttered muffled sounds of appreciation.

The twins disengaged and a look of exhilarated love passed between them. Then Elladan pressed Legolas' head back until it rested on his brother's shoulder, watching with avid delight as Elrohir took his turn at the inviting orifice. The fingers pressed against Legolas' navel shifted to teasingly circle atop the archer's seeping slit. With the younger twin supplying this pleasing distraction, Elladan's fingers migrated underneath and began investigating the dual entries to Legolas' body.

"Hot and wet," whispered Elladan huskily, his breathing irregular, pushing his thumb into the narrow vaginal canal and his index finger past the tight ring of muscles sealing the anus. "Tight and resistant."

Legolas' bucked between them, eyes huge as he gaped up at Elrohir, trilling out a pleading call as Elladan's fingers probed him. They meant to take him together. He shuddered as Elrohir suddenly squeezed the glans of his cock, forcing a clear bead of fluid from the tip.

"Hard and dripping," added Elrohir. "He's ready for us."

Elladan's fingers retreated and Elrohir relinquished his pinching grip. Legolas braced himself, expecting the double penetration immediately, but that was not their plan. They stood, drawing him up as well and led him to the bower, making sure he remained securely sandwiched between them. There they knelt upon the soft satin pallet and this time Legolas found he was facing Elrohir, those eyes of lavender-shot grey beaming at him with both desire and uncertainty. It was a surprise and Legolas' expression revealed it, for the younger brother smiled sheepishly.

"Don't worry, we've never done this before but we'll make sure it's good for you."

"Never done this?" Legolas was confused.

"With someone else," explained Elladan. "We're exclusive to each other and haven't taken a third during love." While speaking he'd turned aside to the basket, taking from it a bottle of oil which he uncapped, pouring a little on his fingers. Legolas was watching him and he smiled, crowding close to kiss him as he slid the slicked digits over the inviting curve of firm flesh to delve between the cheeks. He probed carefully, wishing he could do so with his tongue instead but the brothers had decided the first time would be a simple, joint coupling, for they were all nervous about the bonding.

Abruptly Legolas was jerked from Elladan's lips as Elrohir turned him, excited by the way the archer's cock twitched in response to the anal stimulation, and claimed a searing kiss so deep it seemed he sought to plumb the sylvan's soul. His fingers dived between Legolas' parted legs and sought the second crevice, feeling the wet heat and absorbing the sultry scent arising from the cavity. It was too much; he couldn't be patient any longer. He broke the kiss and captured the vividly wanton blue eyes, his intent plain, and took his cock in hand as Legolas placed both hands upon his shoulders, pushing himself up a bit.

Behind them, Elladan removed his fingers and gripped the Wood Elf beneath each thigh, spreading the legs wide for Elrohir's entry and supporting Legolas' weight. His heart thumped as a sharp breath exited the sylvan's lungs and a solid pulse of force translated through the rigid body, announcing the moment of union. The blur of scintillating emotions bursting through his brother's mind spurred the elder twin to action. In haste he sought to complete the triple junction, hunkering lower to push the head of his penis against the tight annular ring, entering with a slow penetration until he was thoroughly encased in the gripping enclosure. Over the Wood Elf's shoulder, his eyes met Elrohir's.

"Valar! I can feel you inside him," groaned Elladan, panting with the effort to restrain his need to thrust and know the sensation of his cock sliding against Elrohir's between that thin barrier of muscled flesh.

"Such sweet torment!" exhaled Elrohir in breathy wonder over the same thought, holding back as well, and turned to lay his cheek against the golden head bowed upon his shoulder.

"Saes!" Legolas shaky voice demanded, simultaneously frightened and titillated to be claimed this way, completely at their mercy, the rigid male organs filling him, alive with potent vitality. He thought his heart was going to burst it was pounding so hard.

It was nothing less than the amplified vibration of all three hearts beating the same excited tempo, sending vital energy to the buried extremities, inciting them all into motion at once. Legolas wrapped his legs around Elrohir's waist, his arms around the younger twin's neck. Elrohir placed strong hands at his sides beneath his arms as Elladan's gripped his hips. Together they lifted him while pulling back and the next second shoved hard and deep, paired shouts of exhilarated mastery erupting from their throats. There was no more conscious thought after that as the twins drove toward culmination, loud in their revelry while Legolas was silent in his.

The Wood Elf succumbed to the frenetic friction first, unconsciously biting down into Elrohir's shoulder as he felt his essence leave him. The sudden burst of pain made Elrohir shout, his eyes wide when they met Elladan's. The feeling of Legolas' seed coating his abdomen, the scent of the sticky fluid, the throbbing ache in his shoulder combined to carry him the last degree and Elladan followed. The brothers came in unison, their release sending them into an ecstasy of wailing delight, clutching tight to the lithe body between them as they emptied their cocks with three hard thrusts.

Gasping and groaning softly, the twins settled slowly to their heels upon the bed, Legolas limp and still between them, struggling to stabilise his breath as well. Elladan and Elrohir gazed at one another in wonder; the fusing of their souls was comforting and exhilarating at the same time. Each removed an arm from Legolas to reach for and hold to the other, smiling and finally at peace. Together they turned their attention to the Wood Elf, a sense equally protective and possessive infusing their thoughts. None of them wanted to move and break the union and each twin bent to gently kiss a bare sylvan shoulder.

"All right, Lúthadron?" they murmured in concert, but Legolas could only nod his reassurance.

There wan't really any need for speech. Each felt the unique convergence as the sundered segments of incomplete souls swirled and eddied between their conjoined flesh, trust established and balance restored.

TBC

The Nine Sacred Woods

* Birch - The Goddess, or female energy

* Oak - The God, or male energy

* Hazel - Knowledge and wisdom

* Rowan (Mountain Ash) - Life

* Hawthorne - Purity and fairy magic

* Willow - Death, sacred to Hecate

* Fir - Birth and rebirth

* Apple - Love and family

* Vine - Joy and happiness
(back to story)

Mereth od Ened Ethuil: The Celebration of Mid-Spring

Pen Vallen: Golden One

iavas: autumn

coronar: one year

Pethron: narrator

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

Tjalañgando: Harp-player, also ancient elvish (pronounce the J like English Y)

Arâramê: Very ancient form of Oromë

Canad Englennaid (plural of Canad Anglennad): Four Approaches - the cardinal Directions W, N, E, S

Ech Vrassen: White-hot Spear - lightning

elenille: little stars - sparks - from ancient elvish forms

Tewair Nedir Aer: Nine Sacred Woods

Hantanyel: I thank you - Quenya. Did you know there's no word for 'thanks' in Sindarin (primitive or TA), Telerin, Nandorin, Doriathrin, ancient elvish, or common Eldarin? So, guess they all used the Quenya verb.

Amon Naur: Fire Hill

Ceryn o Cabor: frog's balls

hervenn/hervinn: husband/husbands

odhron: male parent

Noss Tuilinn: House of the Swallow

Lúthadron: Enchantor, the twins' nickname for Legolas.

NOTE: Well, hope that was satisfactory. This isn't exactly how I envisioned it but that's how it goes sometimes. There's more to come but I seem to be suffering a sort of internal resistance to writing this as it was initially imagined in my mind. We'll see if I can bring it back in line with the next part. Thanks to everyone for the continued interest.

© 10/13/2007 Ellen Robey
- 13
- 14
- 15
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

Aearlinn - Mereth od Ened Ethuil

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ While that little scene played out ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The Nine Sacred Woods