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
- 18
- 19
- 20
Chapter XIX: Voyage

Mithlond, Yavannië FA 34

The white ship no longer lay quiescent in the harbor. It was about to begin its journey into the uttermost West. Elven mariners hurried to and fro unfurling its snowy sails and securing the riggings. Many of the passengers had boarded the vessel as early as the afternoon. Few wished to tarry now that the hour of departure was at hand.

Neither as tall nor bulky as human vessels tended to be, the ship’s lines were stately and elegant, its structure deceptively delicate looking, and its speed surprisingly fleet. As the sun slowly sank towards the far horizon, the ocean-borne breezes waxed and caught at its graceful sails.

The mood on board was subdued for the most part. After all, most of the travellers were not of the Exiles of the First Age returning home at last but Elves born and bred in Middle-earth leaving the only home they had ever known to make their eternal abodes in a land only known to them through tales and lore. And so there was as much melancholy as there was wonder about this voyage to the West.

On the spacious deck, Elrohir spoke for a while with Círdan, discussing the estimated length of the journey, before he returned to Elladan’s side where he stood at the stern.

Elladan stared unseeingly at the quay where a few Elves still lingered. This ship would not be the last to sail from the Hither Shores though it would be the last to be designed and built by Círdan himself. A goodly number of the venerable shipwright’s people had chosen to stay on. They would remain until no more Elves sought the Havens. Then they would forsake Mithlond and leave Middle-earth to seek the shores of Valinor.

Elrohir slipped a protective arm around his twin’s shoulders and frowned at their lessened width. Elladan was thinner than his wont, the angles of his sculpted face quite pronounced. It pained Elrohir, seeing this blatant evidence of his brother’s grief. Elladan had not fared well at all since they left Imladris. He had received no word from Imrahil of yea or nay.

Elrohir wondered in frustration about that. He agreed with Legolas’ assessment of the Belfalas lord’s character. Therefore it was puzzling that Imrahil had not contacted Elladan about his decision. Puzzling and worrying. What if Imrahil had chosen to join them but had been delayed? What could be more devastating for both him and Elladan were it to turn out that he had attempted to come to the older twin and been too late? Conversely, he may have decided otherwise but dispatched his refusal later than was prudent. Either way, it did not help Elladan. This ignorance of Imrahil’s ultimate choice gnawed at him like a festering sore.

The Elf-knight took his brother’s hand in his, noting its leanness in contrast to his own. Was Elladan going to Valinor to live there or to die, he thought sorrowfully.

The ship slowly slipped down the long grey firth of Lune, leaving fabled Mithlond behind. Elrohir watched sadly as his brother’s eyes immediately lifted, gazing with hopeless eyes at the quay where naught but Elves stood. And then he dropped them again and stared at his right hand and the gold band on its index finger. It was then that he seemed to slump in defeat, leaning against his twin for support. At once, Elrohir hugged him tightly.

Círdan looked at them with regret. He had delayed their departure to the end of September at Elrohir’s request. But he was unable to accommodate yet another delay. They were not the only Elves sailing West. Aside from the last of the Imladrin Elves, others had come from as far away as Eryn Lasgalen and East Lórien and arrived in the Havens with no provisions for a deferred departure. Much as he sympathized with Elrond’s older son, had indeed doted upon the brethren since their childhood days, he could not postpone the journey once again. He forced his attention away from them and kept a weather eye on the progress of his ship as it made its passage down the narrow inlet.

At last they came to the mouth of the firth and hit open water. Almost at once the lookout hailed him urgently, gesturing to something in the distance. Curious, Círdan peered at the object his mariner had spotted. There, bearing down rapidly upon them from the south was a small but powerful craft, its sails billowing in the strong breeze. It was a boat such as used by men for sailing short distances and never far out to sea. A craft large enough only for perhaps three passengers at most.

He noticed a banner at the top of its slender mast. One glance with his keen eyes and he was gasping with shock. He turned sharply and looked at the brethren.

“Elrohir!” he shouted. “Look yonder!” He bellowed to his mariners to drop anchor immediately.

The younger twin looked up in surprise and stared in the direction the shipwright indicated. A moment later his eyes widened in as much shock as Círdan’s had earlier.

The banner fluttered proudly in the breeze, revealing the emblem on it. A ship and a silver swan on a blue field.

“Sweet Eru!” he exclaimed. “Gwaniuar”—older twin—“he has come!”

Elladan peered at him in bewilderment before looking south as well. He caught his breath. As the elven ship came to a stop, the small craft neared it even more swiftly. At its helm was a most familiar figure. A man of exceptional height, elven slender yet broad of shoulders, with rich chestnut hair that glinted with red-gold flame in the burnished glow of the fading sun.

The older twin was all but frozen in place. Only when the boat at last came up alongside the ship and Elrohir tugged at his arm did he snap out of his daze. And then he was at the side of the ship, watching in disbelief as the mariners cast down lines and a rope ladder. While two scurried down to secure the small craft to the ship that it might be towed, the man climbed up the ladder with the speed and confidence of one who had long led a sea-farer’s life.

Elladan waited in almost fearful anticipation as Elrohir quickly introduced Imrahil to a pleased Círdan then led him to his twin. For a moment they looked at each other wordlessly. And then Elladan reached to touch the prince’s face, as if to ascertain that he was truly there.

“Am I still welcome?” Imrahil softly asked, slightly turning his face into the Elf’s palm.

“Oh Elbereth,” Elladan whispered. “You are truly here.” His stare turned incredulous. “You did not come all the way from Belfalas in that flimsy boat, did you?” he demanded with some dismay.

“‘Tis not a flimsy boat!” Imrahil protested, his seaman’s pride in his vessel spurring mild indignation. But he subsided almost at once and shook his head. “I am not so foolish as to risk coming here in a craft not suited to the purpose.” He gestured in the direction from whence he had come. “I journeyed here in my flagship but had it drop anchor several miles away. I then took my boat out, ostensibly for a leisurely jaunt.” He paused briefly. “A jaunt from which I will not return.”

Elrohir made a muffled exclamation. “You staged your own death,” he gasped.

“Aye,” Imrahil said. “My children and I did not deem it wise to let my true fate be known to our people. It has been several generations since my family has produced one of my longevity and youthfulness. It has been fodder for gossip and speculation for years in Belfalas. Were it not for Elessar and Queen Arwen, I would have long been suspected of indulgence in sorcery. I did not desire that such beliefs or suspicions should hound my children throughout their lives.” He shook his head. “But neither could I just abdicate and pass the title to Elphir while it was known that I still lived. ‘Tis not our way and to do so would have cast doubts upon my son’s right to rule Belfalas.” His eyes turned somber at the recollection of the last parting from his loved ones. “My children will return to Dol Amroth publicly grieving my loss but knowing in secret that I have cast my lot with you.”

“Your children joined you on the voyage here?” Elladan said in amazement.

Imrahil smiled wanly. “They did not want to bid me farewell too soon,” he admitted.

“But how can they be assured that you have joined us?”

Imrahil glanced to his right. The brethren turned as well. There, too far away for any man to see, obscured further by the curving coastline but visible to elvish sight, was a great many-masted vessel, the emblem of the Prince of Dol Amroth proud upon its flowing banner.

The brethren realized that while they could see the ship, its mortal crew could not see theirs. From such a distance and in the fast fading light of the day, the whiteness of the elven ship would be indistinct to human eyes. Save for Imrahil’s children. Blessed with the keen eyesight of their father, they would be able to discern the prince’s craft as it was towed behind the white ship. They would know their father had made it aboard.

“They accompanied you to make certain of your safety as well,” Elladan softly commented. Then he frowned. “But how did you know where to find the Havens or that you would reach me in time?”

Imrahil looked at him with some astonishment. “I centered on our bond,” he said. “I felt your presence and simply allowed my feelings to guide me. I could sense through you that the ship had left the dock. And I could feel you and your sadness at leaving. I am surprised you did not sense my closeness – and you an Elf of long standing.”

Elladan blushed somewhat at the tacit gibe. Elrohir quickly spoke up lest his brother retort in less than friendly fashion. Elladan was oddly aloof. It reminded Elrohir of his twin’s cool reception when Imrahil visited Imladris unexpectedly. Almost at the same time, the man recalled the moment, too, and felt a twinge of uncertainty.

“He was distracted by other matters,” Elrohir reminded Imrahil. “Grief can blunt our sensitivity even to the bonds that hold us to each other.”

Imrahil stared at him, then at Elladan in sudden consternation.

Expecting a confrontation of sorts from the looks of Elladan’s stony expression, Elrohir quickly took measures to prevent a public display of displeasure. And very public it would be indeed judging from the number of curious gazes on them.

“I suggest you take Imrahil below,” he murmured to Elladan.

The older twin nodded and tilting his head in invitation to Imrahil, led the way to the cabins and the one he shared with Elrohir.

Imrahil wondered anxiously at Elladan’s behavior. His anxiety did not ease when the Elf silently shut the door behind them then walked away from him to stare out the wide window of the cabin to regard the vast expanse of sea beyond.

“Why did you not send me word at least, Imrahil?” Elladan asked finally, his voice low and hard.

Imrahil started at the accusatory tone. “I am sorry,” he said. “But in truth I did not come to my choice until it was too late for me to join you in Rivendell or to dispatch a letter. ‘Tis why I thought to come by sea instead.”

Elladan said no more but continued to stare out the window. Uneasy, Imrahil thought to speak again when he noticed Elladan’s hands where they hung at his side. Both were clenched and were trembling ever so slightly. Imrahil stared in dismay and dawning comprehension. His mate was angry. He took another look and noted how slender the Elf’s wrists were. Too slender.

He swallowed hard, suddenly understanding the depth of Elladan’s suffering because of his silence. He had actually begun to fade in his grief. And as he came to recognize the signs of his mate’s sorrow, he recalled Elladan’s demeanor in Dol Amroth while he had struggled with his choice. Guilt and remorse struck Imrahil hard.

Even then he suffered but kept it to himself lest he burdened me further, he thought in belated cognition. And I was so caught up in my misery that I did not see it and offered him no solace in turn.

He drew a shuddery breath. “Forgive me, Elladan,” he said hoarsely. “I did not mean to distress you so.”

His heart sank when Elladan made no reply but seemed to grow even more distant. He wondered if he was indeed still welcome. The twin had not answered him when he came aboard, he realized with trepidation. The silence grew painful. Feeling his heart would burst from anguish, Imrahil made to leave the cabin. His ship would remain anchored until the following morning. He could still return to it. He wondered if he would ever muster the courage to admit to his children the reason for his return to them.

He came up short as Elladan swiftly blocked his way. “And where do you think you are going?” the Elf demanded.

“I – back to my ship,” Imrahil stammered, thoroughly unnerved by Elladan’s manner. Never had the Elf behaved this way toward him.

He gasped as he was pushed back almost roughly, Elladan’s hand on his chest brooking no resistance.

“If you think I am going to let you leave now,” Elladan growled, punctuating his statement with more shoves, “you are in serious need of more wit than you obviously possess!”

Another abrupt shove and the back of Imrahil’s knees caught at the edge of one of the berths. He fell back in a sprawl upon it. Staring in shock at the livid Elvenlord, he could barely find the coherence to protest.

“I don’t understand,” he sputtered. “You are angry and—”

His next words were peremptorily cut off by a kiss that took his breath away. Head swimming with mingled confusion and budding desire, he fought to steady himself. To no avail when he felt Elladan’s hands tear at his tunic, shirt and breeches, ripping all three open with no concern for clasps, lacings or fasteners. When the Elf released him from his befuddling kiss, it was only so that he could strip the man more efficiently and swiftly of his clothing. Imrahil looked at his Elf-mate in bewilderment as Elladan cast off his own raiment.

“Elladan, what—?”

“Shut up, ernilen”—my prince—“or I will do it for you!”

Imrahil said no more. In the first place, Elladan’s assault left him with little sentience to think at all let alone lucidly enough to say anything that would make sense. Secondly, he did not wish to rouse Elladan’s ire anon. Not that it was likely to return.

With every kiss and caress and meeting of their flesh, he felt his mate’s feelings flow with undammed force and it spoke of only one thing. Love. His apprehension regarding the Elf’s feelings toward him vanished. Whatever the cause of Elladan’s initial pique, it had faded away. He ceased to wonder about the earlier strain between them and focused instead on regaining the oneness he so treasured when with his Elven-spouse.

The sound of the waves lapping against the side of the ship, as it smoothly cut through the chill waters seemed a soothing symphony to his ears even as his body endured quite happily the delicious torment of an Elf’s loving.

He moaned as he was emphatically and numerously marked by brusquely questing lips and teeth. Elbereth! He would have to keep his neck, chest and arms concealed for the next few days if he did not wish to be subjected to the ribald gazes of the other Elves. Sharp nips at aching nipples wrought such pleasure that it was almost pain and wrenched yelps and groans from him.

His reactions only served to deepen Elladan’s desire. He hungrily suckled the prince’s rigid length, drawing at it so hardily that Imrahil could not be sure if he would survive long enough to reach Valinor. When his moment of release hit him, the prince verily howled his pleasure, unable to stifle it when Elladan milked him so greedily as to leave him as dry as a parched well in the middle of a Harad desert.

Gasping for breath, the fearful pounding of his heart loud in his head, Imrahil was in no condition to resist his mate’s continued ravaging of his person. Elladan gave him no time to recover his wits but drove hard into him and took him in hand with almost frightening ferocity.

Delved and stroked and vigorously loved within an inch of his life, Imrahil prayed his heart would not give out before Elladan was done with him. Then he remembered he no longer had a mortal heart that could give out. An eternity of such loving lay before him and his now immortal form would be more than able to accommodate it. Able and willing.

He groaned at the thought, torn between anticipation and dismay. Ecstasy spiralled within him until he was no longer aware of anything but the pounding thrusts that filled him to bursting and the grasping caresses that inflamed his already over-sensitized shaft. He felt it then, the rapid blossoming of sensation in his groin that portended a shattering climax. When it came, he did not even try to smother his vocal expressions of pleasure. It was useless when Elladan set his mind to rendering it useless.

The struggle to collect the scattered fragments of his sanity was further impeded by the sensations wrought by Elladan’s release and the feeling of liquid warmth spilling within him. He had never marked it before; it seemed his body had been refashioned to know this heady delight as well.

Silence reigned for several minutes afterwards as they lay together on the bunk, raven hair mingling freely with chestnut locks, long limbs entangled, warm bodies pressed close, alabaster skin against sun-kissed flesh. Imrahil lifted his head from a pale shoulder and looked at his lover. Elladan’s eyes were trained on the cream-hued ceiling from which an oil-lamp hung, swinging gently with the slight rocking motion of the ship.

“I am truly sorry for ignoring your needs,” Imrahil said in a hushed voice. “I do not blame you for your anger.”

Elladan blinked once then looked at him. “And I am sorry for once again giving you a less than gracious reception,” he murmured. “‘Tis only that – Valar, Imrahil, I thought you had declined the gift. I believed you lost to me forever.”

Imrahil reached for his hand and caressed the much too lean fingers before kissing each reverently. “You have grown thin, meleth”—love— he murmured repentantly. “And ‘tis my lack of resolve that did this to you.” He bit his lip. “You once said I was worth whatever pain came your way. I cannot imagine you still hold that true now.”

But Elladan clutched him even more snugly. “Nay, never believe that,” he protested. “You have ever been worth it, my precious prince. Even for the blessing of a mere season of your love would I have willingly endured eternity alone. To be gifted with your company for all time – it fills me with such joy as I’d never thought possible for any being.” He kissed Imrahil ardently, letting his feelings flow so fervently that the man was left gasping in their wake. “I love you, Imrahil,” he whispered. “The Powers only know how much I love you.”

His heart singing with the fervor of a Valarian choir, Imrahil felt his own emotions surge forth between them. Elladan gasped in turn at the strength of those feelings, so forceful and clear now that Imrahil’s human essence had been stripped from him and replaced in full by the eternal flame of an elven spirit. He gazed at his once-human prince, grey eyes dancing with wonder, mouth curling into a rapturous smile.

Imrahil caught his breath at the sight of his lover’s happiness. Elladan looked more comely than ever, aglow as he was with his great felicity. Lust flared anew and his groin stirred swiftly into renewed evidence of it.

Eyes kindling with desire, he climbed atop Elladan and pressed him down onto the berth. “You have not properly welcomed me yet, seron vell”— beloved—he reminded his spouse. “At least, not in the way I had in mind.”

Elladan laughed softly. Imrahil felt the long legs part beneath him and come up to snake around his waist. Withy arms rose to enfold his shoulders and pull him down into a kiss that invited his pillaging.

Some heart-stopping minutes later, as he blissfully sheathed himself in Elladan’s silken warmth, he heard the Elf’s whispered words against his cheek. “You will always be welcome, my heart. Now and in all the ages to come.”

********

The sun was just rising when the white ship approached the distant shores of the Undying Lands. Elves crowded the deck in their excitement to come to the ancient abode of their kindred and relief to have arrived without further incident.

The brethren and Imrahil stood together at the prow, gazing in wonder as their eyes fell upon the isle of Tol Erresëa ere they saw the pristine beaches of Valinor beyond. Imrahil breathed in deeply, inhaling a fragrance such as he had never imagined could exist. He looked at the twins and smiled with delight. They grinned back at him. Elladan threw an arm around his brother’s shoulder and caught hold of his spouse’s hand, entwining their fingers as he did.

Together they looked upon the vast green land that slowly unveiled its beauty and wonders to their searching eyes. Their voyage was at an end. They had reached their eternal home at last.

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

Glossary:

Yavannië – Quenya for September

To be continued…
- 18
- 19
- 20
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