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Twilight Tales - An Ounce of Kindness	By : MPB Category: -Multi-Age > General Views: 26417 -:- 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.

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Chapter XXI

Clothing littered the floor in a telltale trail from the door to the wide four-poster bed. A spate of gasps and moans and an occasional cry reverberated through the moonbeam lit bedchamber. And two bodies undulated on the thick feather mattress, one form molded against the back of the other, lean hips driving forward in the age-old act of bodily penetration.

Galvreth gripped the formerly immaculate sheet under him, attempting to brace himself against the nigh bruising thrusts of the older twin. To little avail. He had not thought he would be mastered so swiftly or easily by the decades younger Elvenlord but he was disabused of that preconception almost as soon as they set foot inside the door. Elladan took the lead and set the pace; there was no gainsaying him. And truth be told, after having yearned for this moment for far too long, Galvreth was more than content to play the sheath to Elladan's sword.

What he had not expected was how impressive a sword it would be when at its greatest potential. Once again he had underestimated how formidably the peculiar mix of races in the Peredhil blood could endow them not only in mind but in body as well. He bore the brunt of it now, wondering what madness had driven him to permit a second breaching when he had hardly recovered from the first. And this one far more vigorous - not at all what he had expected to endure right after his first gently achieved yielding.

He was not unlike the twins in his reluctance to share fully of himself with any who had not gained his utter trust and deepest affection. He had held off from this last act, waiting for the one to whom he could submit and not rue it afterward, whether that one be his fated mate or not. Of course, there had always been the possibility that he would woo and wed an Elf-maid in which case his willingness to yield would have become moot. But Elladan's advent in his life had set him on a path from which there could be no turning.

He moaned when a knowing hand reached around him, grasped his thrumming shaft and stroked it firmly and steadily until he was shuddering from the simultaneous sensations of being filled and fondled. Under such usage, it did not take much longer for him to come undone and, with a ragged cry, he spent himself once more upon the sheets. Just short of whimpering, he bore one last piercing, trembling with the depth and force of it, before he felt Elladan tense behind him and liquid warmth spilled into him. He did not move but fought to catch his breath.

Elbereth! If this was how the Peredhil conducted themselves in the love act, 'twas no wonder they knew no shortage of Elves eager to fill their beds. It was to their credit that they maintained utmost prudence and selectivity and did not use their singular allure to full advantage.

He felt the press of lips against his nape and the back of his shoulders. Turning his head to glance at Elladan, he found his cheek cupped by a warm palm and his mouth taken in a kiss that was equal parts tender and stirring. He groaned when a teasing tongue swiped across his lips then gained entry into his mouth and a wandering hand caressed his flanks and groin. Surely Elladan did not intend to ride him anew when he had not even withdrawn from him!

The older twin grinned at the look of shock and consternation on his face. “I am no inconsiderate lecher,” he said with a shake of his head. “To leave you too sore now would be to deprive myself later. And the night is still young. Too young to waste on mere slumber.”

Galvreth could not help laughing beneath his breath. “Is there no limit to your need?” he murmured, wincing slightly as Elladan left his body. He was drawn down to lie beside the twin.

“Contrary to popular belief I do have my limits,” Elladan smiled, sliding his fingers through the prince's argent locks. “But they tend to exceed the rule I find and have thus given rise to the ridiculous rumor that I am insatiable. I am as my brother and father and most likely every Peredhel who came before us.”

Galvreth shook his head in amusement. “If only I had known,” he remarked. “Mayhap I would not have been so eager to be ridden by the likes of you.”

Elladan snorted good-naturedly. “Are you complaining?” he gibed. “Now when you have had me up your backside twice in succession?”

Galvreth felt his cheeks burn in response to the older twin's bald assertion. A moment later, more than his cheeks heated up when enterprising fingers snaked between his thighs to stroke the cleft beyond his shaft. He quickly grabbed Elladan by the wrist and glared at him in exasperation.

“Stay yourself, wanton!” he gasped. “Have you no mercy?”

Elladan laughed out loud. “Have no fear, my fair prince,” he drawled. “I was only assuring myself of your wellbeing.”

Galvreth rolled his eyes. “You are incorrigible, Elladan.”

The twin's eyes sparkled humorously. “And I wager you would not have me any other way,” he said.

Galvreth opened his mouth to retort then stopped and gazed at Elladan. His brown eyes softened and unmistakable affection warmed them considerably. “I would have you any way you please,” he quietly stated.

Elladan regarded him in thoughtful silence for a space. And then he lifted his hand and gently smoothed the back of it against Galvreth's still flushed cheek.

“So beautiful,” he murmured. “Good fortune is not my brother's alone.”

Galvreth beamed. It was not a declaration of love but there was no doubt that Elladan cared for him and that would do for now. He lay back in the twin's arms and let his thoughts stray elsewhere.

“Think you they will find their way back to each other?” he asked, recalling what Legolas had said about Elrohir's reluctance to renew their troth.

“In good time,” Elladan replied. “They love each other, that did not change.”

“Yet they also hurt each other out of misguided fear and expectations,” Galvreth mused. “I pray they learn from this and come out stronger for it.”

“I think they already are,” Elladan reasoned. “Else both would have broken long afore this day.” He gazed appreciatively at Galvreth's comely face. “Valar, but I shall miss you,” he said of a sudden. “'Tis a pity you must depart tomorrow.”

Elated by the unbidden admission, Galvreth laid shining eyes on Elladan. “I shall miss you, too,” he replied. “Would that I could forego duty for one more day with you.”

He kissed the older twin lingeringly, savoring the unique sweetness that was Elladan's. Without much warning, he was summarily rolled on his back and his legs nudged apart.

“Wait!” he protested in some alarm. “I still ache too much for that!”

Elladan smirked. “And who said I was going to do that?” He slithered down between the prince's spread legs. “There are more ways than one to partake of a feast, ernilen.”-my prince.

The Wood-elf gasped when a hot mouth closed around him. Before the welter of rapturous sensations overtook his wits, he dimly realized that Elladan had uttered no assurance not to take him again in the course of the night. This was obviously but a brief respite ere his Peredhel lover mounted him once, twice, even, Eru forbid, thrice more.

A finger slick with his nascent seed gently slid into him. That hot mouth continued to skillfully suckle his newly reawakened length. Galvreth groaned and arched into both caresses, his hands clutching at the silk of Elladan's midnight mane. And then a wave of sharpest pleasure inundated him and left him with no room for random thought, much less ordered reason.

**********

The orangery at the back of the Last Homely House was redolent with the scent of recently harvested fruit. Legolas wondered at the diligence of Lady Celebrían in ensuring that even produce that was seldom to be had in the cold north should still find their way to the tables of Elrond's halls. Oranges, tangerines and shaddocks could be imported from the east and far south by way of enterprising merchants and traders. But the long distances and length of time entailed to get them from their points of origin to Rivendell resulted more oft than not in either bruised or virtually juiceless specimens. Rather than make do with what was only haphazardly available and not always of the best quality at that, Elrond's wife had insisted on having a hothouse built and now one was as apt to find these hard-to-come-by delicacies in the fruit bowls or pastries and preserves of the Last Homely House as apples, peaches and grapes. So successful had been their mother's efforts that the twins had been heard to inquire as to when she would try her hand at growing bananas, pomegranates and coconuts.

Legolas lifted a hand to touch the fragile petals of a purple hued flower that dangled from its perch on a strung up broken off tree branch. Fruits were not the only plants grown within the orangery. One corner was devoted to blossoms that thrived in the nigh tropical climes of the easternmost provinces of Rhûn or in the warmer gardens of the southern lands of Gondor and Harad. Fragrant jasmine, aromatic ylang-ylang, colorful chrysanthemum and an astonishing variety of orchids were assiduously cultivated at the behest of Rivendell's lady and many a guest in residence were astounded to find these exotic blooms gracing their bedside tables.

Seating himself on one of the wooden benches along the far wall of the building, the archer peered through its high glass panels at the lightly burnished landscape beyond. Summer had since given way to autumn and the gardens of Elrond were slowly exchanging their verdant finery for the rusts and bronzes of the season.

He sighed, remembering his first visit to the valley at the tail end of that year's summer. Autumn had come to Rivendell soon after and he had delightedly roamed the elven refuge with Elrohir while the gardens and forests shed their summer colors and the trees were divested of their lush leafy crowns. Those had been halcyon days for a young and innocent Elf-child discovering the world outside of his woodland home for the first time and in company of one who had treated him with all the affection and respect his own brothers had denied him then.

A light tap on his shoulder recalled him to the present and he turned in time to find a triangular bite-sized sweet poised temptingly near his lips. It was a dainty confection of layers of buttery, paper-thin pastry filled with finely chopped walnuts and drenched in a rich syrup of honey and rose water. Legolas grinned at Elrohir and, parting his lips, permitted the Elf-knight to pop the pastry into his mouth. He chewed it slowly, his eyes widening at the delicious simplicity of the sweet.

“Your pastry cook has outdone herself,” he remarked with just the mildest quiver in his voice when he saw Elrohir idly lick honey from his fingers.

The younger twin handed him a drinking cup of cider. He set a small plate of more of the delectable pastries on the bench beside him. “The recipe comes from Harad I am told,” he said. “I managed to save a few for you before Elladan and Glorfindel finished off the lot.” He plucked another piece from the plate and offered it to the prince. “I have not forgotten how fond you are of honeyed sweets.”

Legolas nodded and accepted the proffered piece. But as soon as it was deposited in his mouth, he swiftly slipped out his tongue and licked off the honey on Elrohir's fingers as well as the nuts that clung to the sticky substance. Elrohir watched him, mithril eyes glittering.

Afterwards, he slowly sipped his cider, his gaze meeting Elrohir's over the rim of the cup. The Elf-knight smiled. When Legolas lowered the cup, he leaned forward and kissed the archer's cider-sweet lips, his hand curling around the latter's waist to pull him closer. Legolas closed his eyes and blissfully returned the caress, parting his lips to invite a slow, gentle invasion of his mouth.

When the kiss ended, his cheeks were faintly flushed and his eyes slightly glazed. It was always thus these days when Elrohir plied him with love and tenderness. For though the Elf-knight firmly desisted from proceeding any further than sweet, almost chaste kisses and embraces in their physical relations, there always lingered in the figurative background a ghost of the heady passionate trysts they'd shared before their lamentable sundering. Elrohir drew a finger down the elegant line of one rosy cheek then rose to leave.

“I must return to the Healing Halls lest Father take me to task for forsaking my duties,” he explained.

“Then you should not have attended to me,” Legolas replied. “I do not desire trouble upon you.”

Elrohir slipped his fingers beneath the archer's chin. “I wanted to see you,” he said. He bent and pressed a last kiss to the prince's mouth before departing.

A bright smile tugged at the corners of Legolas' lips as he watched Elrohir stride out of the orangery. Elrohir had risked his father's censure for the simple reason that he wanted to see Legolas. A happy sigh escaped the archer.

Since their conversation on the garden porch where Elrohir had actually asked permission to court him, the Elf-knight had put word into immediate action. Not a day passed that Legolas did not find some token or witness a gesture of his lover's regard for him. The Elf-knight took the time and effort to see to his contentment and comfort whether it be the provision of the prince's favorite foods or books or activities, sending him affectionate notes when duty kept him from the archer's side or simply showing up at the drill yard to cheer him on when he was testing his skill with bow, knife or sword.

Many were the mornings when they would explore the vale by foot or on horseback, often in company with Elladan, that Legolas might reacquaint himself with the elven refuge after seven years of absence. Or if a hike or ride was not to Legolas' liking, they would spar with each other in comradely fashion for Elrohir was still as much teacher as he was lover to the young Wood-elf.

Afternoons of leisure for the Elf-knight might be spent in the most mundane of occupations such as grooming their horses, visiting the valley's drapers and tailors for the purpose of securing new tunics or assisting Celebrían and Erestor in the never ending task of keeping the archives in order. But on occasion and much to the kitchen staff's amusement they would help in the preparation of the evening's repast particularly if in doing so they could sample the sweets of which both were exceedingly fond.

Then most nights would find them either engaged in a contest of wits in the gaming room or seated side by side in a quiet corner of the Hall of Fire while they listened to the most recent compositions of Rivendell's bards and minstrels. But there were evenings when they were not to be found unless one went to one or the other's rooms where they had secluded themselves, quietly sipping wine while reading some new tome, sharing their thoughts and feelings about every topic under the sun that they should think of or huddling in companionable silence before the blazing hearth, Legolas oft leaning back into Elrohir's secure embrace, his golden head resting against the Elf-knight's shoulder.

One thing Elrohir took care not to reintroduce into their gradually healing relationship was their previous physical intimacy. Legolas was initially disappointed but soon came to realize the wisdom of setting aside for the moment the needs of their bodies while their hearts and spirits were still on the mend. It would prove distracting and might even overtake their emotional restoration and that would do neither of them much good.

The young prince finally understood how his precociousness and reckless pursuit of physical satiation had weakened the foundation of his relationship with Elrohir. It had blinded them to the inherent flaws both in themselves and in their bond. In gratifying his body first, Legolas had neglected to expand his knowledge and understanding of Elrohir as a whole and had only settled for what he desired to learn of his betrothed. In seeing only Elrohir's strengths he had failed to perceive his weaknesses. In his eyes, his intended could do no wrong. Thus when the younger twin faltered, it had come as a huge shock. Disillusionment had quickly followed and with it anger, hurt and a deep sense of betrayal. It would not do to repeat that mistake if they hoped for more balance in their relationship. Consequently, this protracted restraint between them.

Legolas had not thought a slow, tender approach could possibly be as interesting or engaging when he had already known the exhilaration of a whirlwind courtship. But he now had ample reason to change his mind. To be wooed by the Elf-knight was turning out to be an experience he would not forego for all the treasures in Arda. Though in truth there were times the denizens of the vale were not certain just who was courting whom.

Elrohir may have voiced his intentions but it appeared that Legolas was determined to reinstate their troth soonest and would not simply sit back and leave all the wooing to the younger twin. Furthermore, guilt at his ill-treatment of his beloved however understandable fueled his desire to take an active part in effecting their full reconciliation. No matter how often Elrohir assured him that he did not fault him for any part in their rift, Legolas could not rid himself of a sense of culpability.

Surely he bore some of if not equal part of the blame for their present straits, he insisted, and so he strove to make amends, the act of doing penance however mild helping to mitigate some of his remorse. Besides, he wished to shorten this period of courtship delightful though it was to be the recipient of Elrohir's attentions. He had learned much from their falling-out and he knew that so had Elrohir. Hence the latter's caution and prudence this time around. Legolas understood this but he was still quite young and mercurial by nature as well and could not quite rid himself of his impatience. He knew next to nothing about the nuances of a proper wooing but he suspected that taking action himself would hasten things along and that was much desired.

Legolas longed to slip the silver band that symbolized his affiancing to Elrohir back on his right hand's forefinger and likewise persuade Elrohir to do so. To the woodland prince, the sooner they bore their betrothal rings once more, the more likely a proposal of wedlock would be swift in following. He had not forgotten that Elrohir had asked him to bind to him upon his majority or that he had accepted the proposal with joyous alacrity. He did not relish delaying that yearned-for event by even one day past his 50th year. Not when the promise of his Elf-knight's eternal loving hovered tantalizingly over his every waking moment.

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

Glossary:

Peredhil (sing. Peredhel) - Half-elf/Half-elven

orangery - building where orange trees are grown, especially a large greenhouse for use in cooler climates

shaddock - an old name for pomelo, a cousin of the grapefruit

ylang-ylang - tropical flowers that yield a fragrant oil used in perfumery

AN: In case anyone is interested, the sweet described above is based on a Turkish dessert called Baklava.

To be continued…
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- 23
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Twilight Tales - An Ounce of Kindness