Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

Twilight Tales - Hallowed Fate	By : MPB Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 4698 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- 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
- 1-Meeting
- 2-Learning
- 3-Restraint
- 4-Coping
- 5-Guile
- 6-Awakening
- 7-Undoing
- 8-Musings
- 9-Sojourn
- 10-Reckoning
- 11-Illumination
- 12-Avowal
- 13-Beloved
- 14-Visitations
- 15-Tryst
- 16-Choice
- 17-Torn
- 18-Resolve
- 19-Voyage
- 20-Fate
- 17
- 18
- 19
Chapter XVIII: Resolve

Imladris, Úrimë FA 34

It was still early by any standard. Ithil had barely risen into the darkened sky and the evening meal was not even an hour past. But for lovers about to part for more years than they cared to imagine, there was no waiting for a more seemly moment. There was no waiting at all when the need to create memories to later depend on for comfort was paramount.

Legolas bit his lip when sensations too strong to resist raced from his nether regions to the creeps and crannies of his writhing form. Supine upon the bed, hips close to the edge of the mattress, legs spread wide and knees raised, he could only grasp fitfully at the snowy sheet beneath him and yield to the wicked tongue that breached him with teasing deliberateness. With such ardent attention paid to that part of his body coupled with the knowing hand that caressed his shaft with firm, ceaseless strokes, it was no wonder that he was constantly on the verge of delicious madness.

It was one of Elrohir’s favored means of reducing him to a state of shameless imploring, which he was managing to avoid for now but not for much longer. Not when Elrohir dared to deepen his every thrust and quicken his caresses. The first plea finally burst forth from Legolas’ lips. A plea for mercy, for an end to the excruciating rapture.

To his shock, Elrohir did not comply as he’d expected but simply set his mouth to take over from his hand and vice-versa. Legolas gasped when at least three fingers plunged deep into him while skilled lips and the aforementioned wicked tongue applied themselves to ravaging his aching length.

Legolas reared his hips, uncertain whether to push into Elrohir’s mouth, onto his fingers or pull away altogether from the delightfully punishing ministrations of his mate. But the Elf-knight caught him fast. Helpless in Elrohir’s powerful grip, Legolas had no choice but to surrender to his pleasuring.

Incoherent utterances mingled with a sentient word or two as he begged to be released from his exquisite torment. Taking pity at last, Elrohir heeded his pleas. He rose to his feet and, after urging Legolas to move further up, climbed onto the bed between the archer’s parted legs. Withdrawing his fingers, he summarily replaced them with the fearsome sword of his turgid shaft. Wild gasps alternated with deep moans as Legolas felt himself filled to bursting.

The next several moments were given to their steady ascent to the highest peaks of pleasure. Forgetting the existence of everything save for the hard flesh that cleaved him with breath-stealing bliss, the hand that continued to fondle his needful length and the sight of his Elf-knight moving above him with such steely grace, Legolas gave in to his body’s demands. Tears streaming down his cheeks, clutching desperately at Elrohir’s hard thighs, he shuddered his seed into the younger twin’s caressing hand.

Panting hard, he waited for Elrohir’s completion, pushing eagerly into his lover’s bucks. It was not long in coming and he dazedly watched Elrohir ride out the throes of his climax. In its wake, Elrohir rested atop him for several seconds before gently uncoupling their lissome forms and settling at his side. Still breathing shallowly from his own release, Elrohir held out his arms invitingly.

Legolas turned gratefully into Elrohir’s soothing embrace, his arm curling around his mate’s warm body to hold him as snugly as he could. He nuzzled his face against Elrohir’s throat, reveling in the Elf-knight’s singular scent. A sound that was halfway between a groan and a laugh escaped him. Elrohir glanced down at him with a questioning grin.

“You will kill me yet with your wicked ways, melethen”—my love— Legolas chuckled weakly. “Indeed, I do not know how I have managed to stay alive thus far.”

Elrohir laughed and pressed a kiss to his temple. “But I love to see you well pleased,” he said.

“Pleased!” Legolas sputtered. “‘Tis an outrageous understatement. Undone is closer to the mark.”

“But in blessed rapture I trust?” Elrohir teased.

Legolas smiled with utmost felicity. “Mmmm, almost too much,” he murmured. A mischievous glint sparkled in his sapphire eyes. “I must remember what you did,” he decided. “I refuse to be the only one who begs for relief in our bed!”

Elrohir snickered and held him closer. “I will not protest should you choose to employ my own devices on me,” he promised. “So long as ‘tis you who conquers me thusly, I will willingly surrender.”

Legolas looked at him suspiciously. “And did any conquer you thusly before you had me?” he demanded.

Elrohir was a tad taken aback by his spouse’s sharp tone. “Nay, my sweet prince, you know ‘tis only you who can undo me as hardily,” he said. At the archer’s slightly skeptical reaction, he stroked Legolas’ elegant cheekbones with his fingers. “You are jealous of a sudden. You have no cause to be.”

Legolas had the grace to flush. “I know,” he sighed. “But the thought of you let loose amongst the Eldar of Aman is enough to set me worrying,” he admitted. “You are too beautiful to leave alone, seron vell.”—beloved.

“And you are not?” Elrohir said somewhat incredulously. “I could say the same of you, Legolas. ‘Twill not be easy leaving you behind when so many covet you and wish me out of the way.”

Legolas stared at him in surprise. “Then you and I are of the same mind,” he said. “But rest assured, Elrohir, I will not share myself with any other while we are apart. All that I am belongs to you and you alone.”

“And I trust you to keep faith,” Elrohir said tenderly. “As I hope you trust me. I was yours from the moment of your birth. Think you that would change after all these years?”

Legolas gazed at him then smiled with the complete confidence of one who knows he is utterly loved. “Has any babe ever been as blessed as I was?” he sighed happily. “I pray we will nevermore be parted once I join you in Valinor, Elrohir nîn.”—my Elf-knight.

Elrohir beamed back at him. But a moment later, his smile faded and his argent eyes took on an anxious, faraway look. Legolas regarded him wonderingly.

“What is wrong?” he softly asked, brushing strands of midnight silk from Elrohir’s cheek.

Elrohir sighed. “Elladan,” he whispered. “We have only this month ere we must leave for the Havens and still he has had no word from Imrahil.”

Legolas snuggled further into Elrohir’s embrace. “He did give Imrahil until the end of the month,” he said hopefully. “Mayhap he is on his way even as we speak.”

“Or merely his letter,” Elrohir gravely added. “I pray ‘tis not so. For all his courageous words, I doubt Elladan will weather such a loss well. Already I see signs of his grief though he tries to conceal them from me.”

Legolas frowned against Elrohir’s chest. “I cannot believe that Imrahil would choose otherwise,” he said. “Why would he give up the chance to be with Elladan forever?”

“Spoken like a pure-blooded Edhel”—Elf—Elrohir murmured good-naturedly. “The man has a family, Legolas. Would you be so eager to quit Middle-earth were you to leave behind, say, a son who refuses the journey to Aman?” After some hesitation, the archer shook his head. “Think how much harder it must be for Imrahil. Not only the Sea will part him from his children and kindred but the very grip of fate itself. He will never behold them again even in the afterlife of men. Not until the world ends and we are all gathered together in Eru’s presence. How many unfathomable ages will unfold ere that comes to pass?”

Again, the archer tensed then subsided into his embrace. “I did not think of that,” Legolas admitted. “I had forgotten your own grief at Arwen’s choosing.” He looked up at his mate. “But he will surely inform Elladan of his choice, whether grievous or joyful. Imrahil is an honorable man and a loving one as well.”

“I know,” Elrohir said quietly. “But I feel Elladan’s dread while he awaits that choice. If you had only seen him when he returned from Belfalas. So bereft of cheer and hope. ‘Twas all Grandfather and I could do to lift his spirits anew.”

His dolorous mood affected the woodland prince as well and the latter fell silent, clasping him close as if to stave off their own parting. Thinking of that sorrowful moment, Elrohir chose to give voice to a misgiving he’d harbored for many a day.

“Do not come to the Havens with me, my heart,” he murmured. “‘Twould break me to leave you behind on the quay whilst Círdan’s ship bears me away from you. If I must bid you farewell, let it be here in Imladris while I still call it home.”

Legolas swallowed hard and nodded. Pondering his law-brother’s fate, he suddenly felt an intense gratitude that his destiny had long been decided and that it had lain all these years in Elrohir’s keeping and would do so again once Aragorn’s reign was ended.

He burrowed into his Elf-knight’s arms, kissing him ardently, tasting the sweetness that was uniquely Elrohir’s. “Let me love you, Elrohir,” he said urgently. “If we must bid each other farewell, let the bidding be as long and fervent as possible.”

He pressed Elrohir down onto the bed and staked his claim anew on his Peredhel spouse.

*******

Dol Amroth, Úrui FA 34

The afternoon sun was already lowering in the horizon, casting its red-gold light on the azure expanse of the sea. At other times, it was a sight that brought great delight to Dol Amroth’s lord and prince. But today, there were matters of greater import to occupy him and he gave the view from his study window but a cursory glance.

He turned from it as soon as he heard the soft knock on the study door. At his bidding, his eldest son Elphir and his only daughter Lothíriel entered the chamber. Elphir closed and bolted the door, sensing that what their father had to say was of a most private nature.

“You sent for us, Father?” Lothíriel inquired, after greeting him with a gentle kiss on the cheek.

“Aye,” Imrahil said. He gestured to them to make themselves comfortable. Both settled on the divan along the near wall while he sank into the armchair opposite them.

“There is something I must discuss with you,” he began. “Something I should have told you from the start but that fear kept me from broaching.” He hesitated then said: “It has to do with my friendship with Lord Elladan.”

Both looked at him in some surprise but not as much as he had thought they would. Brother and sister glanced at each other as if in silent question and answer. Elphir regarded his father curiously.

“We have long wondered about it,” he admitted. “You were never so close to any man as you were to Lord Elladan.”

“And you obviously grieve his departure for Valinor,” Lothíriel observed. “Far more than you have ever shown for others.”

Imrahil sighed and reached for the silver chain around his neck. He took it off. The two stared at the mithril locket that was revealed. One they had never seen before. Imrahil silently handed it to Lothíriel. Quick as any woman to notice its tiny latch, she sprung it open. She looked at the miniature within and gasped. After a long while, she wordlessly passed it to Elphir. Like Lothíriel, the crown prince gazed long and mutely at the painted image within, his eyes narrowing at the undeniably intimate nature of it.

He looked up to find his father watching him and his sister intently. He took a deep breath and said a little hoarsely: “Father, is – was Lord Elladan your – your lover?”

Imrahil let out a weary exhalation. “More,” he murmured. “He is my binding-mate.”

That rendered both his children speechless for several minutes. Lothíriel’s eyes fell on the beauteous sapphire-bedecked gold band on Imrahil’s right index finger. They had all thought it a gift of friendship from the twin brethren of Rivendell to their father during his one and only visit to the hidden vale. Now its significance was unveiled in full.

“Oh Eru,” she breathed. “‘Tis a wedding ring that you wear. You have been bound to him for all these past twenty years?” When Imrahil nodded, she covered her mouth for a moment, battling to compose herself. Elphir gripped her other hand in support.

“I do not blame you for keeping silent on this matter,” Elphir said quietly. “‘Tis only of late that I have studied much of our family lore and come to understand the peculiarities of our elven heritage. But I confess I had not thought such drives to be so strong as to affect you deeply.”

“Yet there have been instances in our history wherein members of our family indulged in such affairs,” Imrahil remarked. “We have all heard the rumors despite the attempts to suppress them.”

His children nodded somberly. “So that is why you grieve so heartily,” Lothíriel said softly. “He is leaving and you will lose one you love once more. As you did Mother.”

“If only it were as simple as that,” Imrahil sighed. “There is more to this affair than even I had expected. I have already come to a decision regarding this – this matter but I would have your blessing first. If you can bear to give it.”

Lothíriel gazed at him then reached for his hand and, with a slight tug, urged him to sit between her and Elphir. Heartened by this implicit show of support, he quietly and succinctly told them all. The sun had begun to sink when he was done. Both stared at him in mingled awe and astonishment. It was another several minutes before either could give voice to their raucous thoughts.

“Why did you choose to speak only to Lothíriel and me?” Elphir asked at length in an apparent attempt to stall for time.

Imrahil smiled wanly at him. “Because I was not certain how your brothers would react,” he confessed. “As you said earlier, you have studied our history quite thoroughly. You are no longer ignorant of what elven nature can entail.” He looked at his daughter in turn. “And you, dear child, have kept frequent company with Queen Arwen these many years. I assumed, correctly I hope, that you would be cognizant by now of this same matter.”

Lothíriel nodded. “We have indeed spoken of this, Arwen and I,” she replied.

“And how do you and Elphir now feel about this? About me?” Imrahil cautiously asked.

Elphir shook his head. “I will not deny that it causes me some discomfort to know that you and he—” He did not continue that line of thought but said instead, “Nevertheless, I would not begrudge you what happiness he has given you, my lord.”

“Nor I,” Lothíriel averred. “Ever have you put our joy and comfort before yours, Father. How could we judge you now and think you wanting?” She took Imrahil’s hand and kissed it reverently. “May I assume that you desire to join him?” she asked.

Imrahil’s calm façade faltered at last. “I do,” he whispered. “And yet it pains me terribly to sunder myself from all of you. As I will should I pass over sea with him.”

“But you belong to him, don’t you?” Elphir murmured. “As he belongs to you.”

The prince nodded, eyes on the gold band on his finger. “I have struggled with this choice since he told me of it,” he painfully revealed. “I had thought my heart so torn as to be unable to make a wise decision. But since he left, I have come to realize ‘tis not a matter of wisdom but of feelings.” He looked at his son and daughter with sadness. “I have not felt whole since his leaving,” he said. “Not even with your mother did I feel this terrible emptiness that cannot be filled.”

“Not even by us?” Lothíriel tenderly said. No hint of hurt or accusation tainted her utterance. At seeing the guilt-stricken expression on her father’s countenance, she hastened to say: “I understand, Father. I would feel the same way were I to lose Éomer. Not even our children would be enough to assuage my grief. ‘Tis not a transgression against us for you to feel thusly about Lord Elladan.” She glanced at Elphir.

The crown prince pursed his lips then took his sire’s other hand. “You have always stood by me even in my vilest moments,” he said. “I could not ask for a better father. It saddens me deeply that we will not meet again even in the next life. But I would grieve even more to watch you slowly fade from sorrow and loneliness and needlessly at that. Do not tarry here, Father, but seize this blessing the Powers have gifted upon you.”

Imrahil felt his heart swell with immense love and gratitude and he hugged them both tightly. For the longest while, they remained tenderly entwined, savoring the familial bond that would always hold them together no matter where fate led them. Imrahil took a steadying breath and realized only then that his cheeks were wet with tears. As were Elphir and Lothíriel’s.

“Will Erchirion and Amrothos accept this?” he murmured.

Elphir considered it gravely. Finally he said: “Amrothos will no doubt feel discomfort as well but, aye, he will accept it. As for Erchirion – it will be hard for him, my lord. He has ever been the least open amongst us to new thoughts and strange traditions. But I believe he will stand by you regardless of his misgivings. Out of love for you if nothing else.”

Lothíriel suddenly gasped in alarm. “But Father, you have already tarried here too long!” she exclaimed. “Lord Elladan said you had to join him in Rivendell ere the end of August and here it is already a week into the month!”

Elphir frowned worriedly. “She is right,” he said. “Even did you ride without stopping you would still not reach Rivendell in time.”

Imrahil shook his head. “I am well aware of that,” he replied. “I was thinking of going straight to Lindon.”

Elphir was even more perplexed. “But that is further away,” he protested. “‘Tis even less likely that you will catch up with him.”

“If I go by land,” Imrahil agreed. “But I mean to take another route to the Havens.”

He glanced out the window. Further out to sea, too vast a vessel to enter the harbor, lay the royal flagship. “I cannot simply disappear without a plausible and acceptable explanation for our people’s consumption,” he pointed out. “And I would not have your succession clouded by an unsolved mystery.”

Elphir stared at him in dawning comprehension. “I see your point, my lord,” he said. “In that case, we will accompany you.”

“You will?” Imrahil echoed in surprise.

“Most assuredly,” Lothíriel said, swiftly picking up on the nuances of their exchange. “We would rather part from you later than sooner.”

“And it will aid us in responding in the correct manner afterwards,” Elphir added.

Imrahil gazed at them with amazement. “Forgive me,” he said regretfully. “I should have trusted you to understand.”

“Nay, my lord, there is nothing to forgive,” Lothíriel asserted. “Your fear was understandable. Let us put that behind us and see to your great journey.” Her voice broke as she finished. Of a sudden, she threw her arms around her father’s neck and sobbed. “Oh, Father, we will miss you so!” she wept.

Imrahil felt his tears flow once more as he held his daughter tightly. Elphir leaned his head against his shoulder and he knew his eldest wept as well. Yet both would willingly pay the price for his eternal joy and contentment. He thought himself blessed indeed to have begotten such loyal and tender offspring as well as known two great loves in his lifetime. It was so much more than any man could ask for.

********************

Glossary:

Úrimë – Quenya for August

Úrui – Sindarin for August

To be continued…
- 17
- 18
- 19
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

Twilight Tales - Hallowed Fate