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Twilight Tales - An Ounce of Kindness	By : MPB Category: -Multi-Age > General Views: 26418 -:- 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 XXXII

The insistent peal of the door chimes early the next morn would have annoyed Elrohir no end had he not sensed through their fraternal bond that 'twas his twin who had come a-visiting. He glanced at Legolas, concerned that his slumbering mate would be roused from sleep. But save for a soft sigh, Legolas did not awaken, his deep slumber the consequence of a late and lengthy night beginning with his brother's begetting day celebration and ending in a celebration of another sort in the confines of their bedchamber. The archer had been well used and long ridden and his satiation was such that his repose could not be disturbed by a few small bells' ringing. Tucking the covers around his fair mate's splendid form, Elrohir pulled on a shirt and breeches ere he descended to the downstairs sitting area.

He let in a patently nervous Elladan. Wondering why his brother was up and about so early, he asked just a tad tartly: “And to what do I owe this rude awakening?”

“Forgive me, but I have just come from the jewel smiths and-”

“The jewel smiths?” Elrohir sharply echoed.

“Oh, rest you, I awakened no one,” Elladan said. “You know they rise at the crack of dawn.”

Elrohir stared at him, all traces of lingering drowsiness evaporating. “Sweet Eru, you have won your suit!” he gasped.

Elladan blushed and nodded. “He accepted me back last night,” he said in hushed, reverent tones. “Yet even now I cannot quite believe that he permitted me to return.”

“If you have gone so far as to have rings fashioned, you can believe it,” Elrohir pointed out with a grin. At Elladan's slight frown, he said: “What makes you doubt your victory?”

Elladan blew his breath out. “The manner of my procurement of his acceptance,” he answered.

“Why, what did you say?”

“I told him I would choose the Doom of Men if he refused me,” Elladan almost shamefacedly confessed.

Elrohir was reduced to speechlessness for a moment. And then he collected himself and beckoned to his twin to follow him into the cooking nook.

“Tell me all,” he invited. “I am astonished that you resorted to such dire means to secure his assurance.”

As he talked, he gathered a selection of nuts and dried fruit on the food preparation counter and began to chop, slice or dice them. At Elladan's raised eyebrows, he smiled and explained: “Legolas favors hot porridge with fruit and nuts on wintry mornings.” Blinking at his twin's domesticity, Elladan experienced a sudden qualm. But Elrohir was quick to see it and he said with a smirk: “He is even more accommodating when I spoil him so. I look forward to a return to bed after we break our fast.”

Elladan snorted in amusement and the tense moment passed. Appeased, he related the prior evening's events. To his disconcertment, Elrohir became increasingly mirthful with the telling.

“May I know what cause I have given to stoke your gaiety?” he demanded when he finished to a spate of chuckles.

Elrohir stifled a last chortle. While he built a fire in the small hearth, he said: “Ah, Elladan, do you really think Galvreth gave in to your plea simply to spare you the path of mortality? If he said yea, 'tis because he wants you as much as you want him. I dare say he made up his mind to have you when you at last revealed your heart to him.”

“But - but that was months ago,” Elladan protested. “Not once did I feel fully assured of his regard until now.”

“Yet you told me you believed his heart still in your keeping which is what helped you stay the course,” his brother reminded him.

“I did,” the older twin said. “But verily I worried that his rancor at my earlier folly and the hurts I dealt him would overcome any affection he bore me.”

“Did the wait for his answer affect you so?” Elrohir inquired.

“Very much,” Elladan admitted.

“Hence your vigilance when Aewithen sought to challenge you,” Elrohir said, another smile tugging at his lips. “And your shockingly discourteous dealings with her. Not to mention staking your claim last night, your assertions to the contrary notwithstanding. Oh, do not deny it. Legolas and I were not in the least fooled when you asked those favors of us!”

Elladan scowled. “I beg your pardon for being so weak as to long for confirmation of my place with him,” he retorted a little acerbically.

“And I tell you your place was assured from the moment you declared yourself to him,” Elrohir smoothly replied. “You worried needlessly, brother.”

“If that is so, why did he not tell me soonest?” Elladan insisted. “Why delay his acquiescence?”

A wide grin finally curved Elrohir's lips. Setting a pan of water to boil, he said, “Because Galvreth felt there was a lesson that needed teaching ere he took you back. How else could he ascertain your constancy or the rightness of your reasons?”

The older twin gaped at him in shock. “You knew?” he accused. “And you gave me no warning?”

“And would you have believed me?” Elrohir countered while he brought out a jar of oats, a tall bottle of cinnamon sticks, a pot of honey and a jug of milk cold from a winter night's keeping. “Nay, you were altogether convinced of your unworthiness of his love and thereby provided your own chastisement. Galvreth only expanded on it and wisely at that for now he knows for certain that you are indeed besotted enough with him to resort to a tactic as low as extortion.”

“'Twas no mere tactic,” Elladan said, sober of a sudden. “I meant what I said.”

“I know,” Elrohir replied, softening a mite. “As did he I warrant. 'Tis probably why he chose to end his testing of you.”

Elladan stared at him then nodded in rueful agreement. “I dare say I deserved it,” he murmured.

“Deserved it?” Elrohir snorted. “He has proved kinder than I expected!”

Just as he finished speaking, arms wove around him from behind and he was pulled into an affectionate embrace. Elrohir chuckled as Legolas nipped his way up the side of his neck, leaving a trail of scarlet smears in his marauding lips' wake. Elladan discreetly kept his attention on the array of porridge ingredients on the counter while his twin and binding-brother greeted each other in their usual smoldering fashion.

“You two are worse than stags in perpetual rut,” he remarked when a sidelong glance revealed Legolas enclosing Elrohir in the folds of his night-robe. Obviously, the better to let the Elf-knight feel what he had neglected to tend ere he left their bed.

Elrohir chuckled and broke off from an inflammatory kiss to say, “Beware, lest you wish to be named pot to this Elf's kettle. Legolas, do you plan to have me in front of Elladan?”

Legolas lifted his golden head from the crook of Elrohir's neck but not his hands from the Elf-knight's breech-laces and, with a wicked smirk, said, “Aye, if Elladan does not take the hint and make himself scarce for a goodly while.”

Whereupon he looked pointedly at Elladan while he continued to undo Elrohir's breech-laces. Elladan rolled his eyes and turned to go.

“I will return when you are in a more seemly mood,” he primly said over his shoulder.

“Pots and kettles, brother,” Elrohir called after him as he headed for the door.

The last he saw of his twin as he exited the apartment was Elrohir braced against the counter and Legolas invasively pressed against his back. Elladan hastily closed the door. While he was fully aware of his brother's lustful ventures with his woodland mate, he did not feel all that comfortable watching him at it. Not to mention that Elrohir was virtually his mirror image and the sight of him submitting to Legolas was eerily like witnessing himself in the same position with his own woodland spouse-to-be.

He returned to Galvreth's quarters with Elrohir's words reverberating in his mind. Entering the sleeping chamber, he found the prince out on the balcony. Well wrapped against the cold in a warm robe, he was staring at the dozing forest. Elladan observed him for a space, taking great pleasure in simply perusing his comeliness. And was it his imagination or did Galvreth seem unusually aglow this morning?

When Elladan stepped onto the balcony, Galvreth smiled welcomingly at him. “Where did you go so early?” he queried as the twin came to his side.

“To ask the jewel smiths to fashion rings for us,” Elladan replied.

Galvreth's smile widened. “You need not resort to underhanded means with me.”

“Oh? Yet 'twas only by underhanded means that I finally gained your compliance.”

The prince chuckled. “Do you not think a reward sweeter for the difficulty of earning it?”

Elladan nodded. “I only pray that I have indeed earned it.”

“Do you believe that you have?” Galvreth challenged him.

Elladan heaved a doubtful breath. “I want to believe that I have but a part of me fears that I merely pried it out of you.”

To his surprise, Galvreth turned and kissed him. Intuitively, for it seemed the most natural thing in the world to do, he wove his arms around the prince and pulled him closer for a deeper caress. At length, they drew apart and Elladan looked at his lover curiously.

“If you still doubt your worth to me, you have indeed earned my compliance,” Galvreth said. His tender tone tempered the bite of his next words. “For too long did you deem me yours for the taking with little thought to what I thought or felt about it.” Seeing Elladan's wince, he added, “And I was foolish to let you have your way even when I had began to hurt from it.”

“Why did you not chastise me?” Elladan softly asked.

“Because I did not know how you would respond if I did,” Galvreth admitted. “I feared you would shy from me and put an end to our affair forthwith.” Elladan averted his gaze but not swiftly enough. Galvreth sighed. “And you would have, that much is apparent now.”

Elladan turned glistening eyes on the prince. His voice catching, he said, “Mayhap my visit to the jewel smiths was premature.”

“Only if you wish to postpone granting what I have hoped for all these years,” Galvreth countered.

Elladan's eyes widened. In that moment, his inexperience in matters of the heart showed clearly and painfully. “'Tis not only your hope but mine as well even if I have come to this realization but lately,” he earnestly said. “Still I wonder that you did not break with me when I proved no better than an oaf and a hard-hearted one at that. I do not understand why you did not cast me aside when there were so many others who would have cherished you as I did not.”

Moved by Elladan's uncharacteristic lack of confidence, Galvreth cupped his face in his hands and said, “I did try to distance myself from you and we have seen the sorry results of that attempt,” he reminded him. “Elladan, there is no rhyme or reason for the love I bear you. I simply do. And I hope you will learn to accept what you feel without needing to explain it.”

He watched a single tear trace its way down Elladan's cheek as the warrior struggled to come to terms with the myriad emotions that wracked him - guilt, confusion, regret and, most of all, tumultuous, confounding love. He tenderly wiped away the tear with his thumb.

Of a sudden, Elladan closed the distance between them and locked them in an even fiercer kiss than the first. So potent was it that they were left breathing harshly in it wake. Elladan did not let go of him but buried his face in his neck.

“Whatever you desire of me I will strive to grant,” came his muffled avowal. “No matter the cost, I will gladly pay it. I love you, Galvreth. The Valar help me but I do.”

Nothing could have better evinced his long and deeply rooted reluctance to surrender himself so utterly than that last, almost helpless plea for aid from the Powers themselves. Galvreth silently vowed that Elladan would learn to be an eager accomplice in his own ensnarement. For the woodland prince already knew what joys there were to be had when one embraced love with one's whole heart, body and spirit. Hurts there were of course, but in his opinion, the bliss outweighed the pain any given day and he would not forego the former for all the glory or riches in Arda. And neither would Elladan if he had anything to say about it.

**********

They bound to each other the following summer as the season drew to a close, before winter made its incursion on the northern lands. Elrond and Celebrían and their daughter Arwen made the long journey over the mountains for the nuptial rites. There was no hiding the Imladrin lord and lady's pleasure at yet another child of theirs taking his place amongst the elder kindred by virtue of eternal wedlock.

There, in the garden that had borne witness to so many celebrations in Mirkwood's royal family, Elladan and Galvreth were wed. Under the Powers' weighty regard and illuminated by the Mariner's brilliant light, they uttered their vows of love and fidelity and sealed their promises with their blood. Afterwards, both suffered the tearful hugs of Celebrían and Arwen followed by the more jocular expressions of affection by fathers and brothers alike.

The ensuing feast was as boisterous as it was felicitous for underlying the merriment was an active relief over Galvreth's recovery. Not an Elf present did not ponder the near miracle of his survival. It was an object lesson in the power of love and joy to overcome evil and despair.

Thranduil beamed as the clamor for Galvreth to lead a lively all male woodland jig swelled. His smile widened when Galvreth agreed on the condition that Elladan join him and thereby prove his tutelage worth the effort. Elladan protested as a matter of course, pleading a lack of practice, but acquiesced to his new mate's demand just the same.

Clad in nuptial white save for his silver circlet adorned with tiny gold vines and leaves and the silver in the beading on his tunic, the narrow links in his belt and the wide ornamental cuff about his wrist, the fourth prince was a stunning vision to behold. Elladan was no less beauteous, his raven hair contrasting dramatically with his nigh pristine raiment. Fine gold purl embroidery broke the plain whiteness of his tunic. On his dark crown he bore a gold circlet set with adamant and mithril akin to what Elrohir had worn for his own binding rites. At the base of his high collar he proudly bore Galvreth's brooch, its emerald glittering in the flickering light of standing torches and hanging lamps. When the pair clasped hands and held them high, the gold bands on their right forefingers gleamed brightly, overt symbols of their wedded state.

Feeling his eyes water and his throat tighten from the sheer happiness of seeing his fourth-born son restored and granted his desire at last, Thranduil looked away lest his emotions bested him. Father he might be but he was still king and he needed to preserve some of his dignity. At least, while he was in plain sight of his subjects.

He met Celebrían's amused gaze and perforce chuckled in rue. Elrond's wife had caught him in this unguarded moment and there was no pretending that dust had gotten into his eyes or some such other nonsense.

“So, we are kin-by-marriage twice over,” he commented instead when she joined him. “Had any told me long ago that I would be law-father to both your sons, I would have called them mad.”

Celebrían laughed. “No one would have blamed you, Thranduil. Even now it seems a far-fetched notion though the evidence of its fulfillment is right before us.”

Thranduil nodded. “Aye, 'tis the stuff of fantasy.”

“Or wishful thinking.”

“Speaking of wishful thinking…” The Elven-king gestured in the direction of Arwen who presently held five swains and three maids in thrall. And it looked as if her court would swell further if the many appreciative perusals of her beauty were indicative of the great interest in Elrond's only daughter. “Methinks Arwen will have no shortage of suits to choose from.”

Celebrían sighed. “If she complains, 'tis of the surfeit of them. She cannot quite make up her mind which to heed in the first place!”

Thranduil grinned. “'Tis a pity I have no more sons to offer for her consideration.” His grin faded somewhat. “No more suitable sons, that is.” His eyes grew distant for a spell as his thoughts turned to an absent soul, still dear to a father's forgiving heart despite the passage of centuries.

Celebrían laid a soothing hand on his arm. “Who is to say that he will not be suitable when he returns to the fold?” she gently said. “If Gildor's reports are anything to go by, 'tis quite apparent that 'twas not wickedness that led Nimaras astray but only misguided envy and resentment and a tragic lack of temperance.”

The king wanly smiled. “'Tis a great comfort to be reminded of that,” he admitted. “I do not think I could bear the knowledge of any of my own given over to evil.” He looked somewhat hopefully at Celebrían. “I meant to ask you if there had been any word from Gildor of late.”

“His last sojourn in Imladris was but three years ago, while my sons were in the south. He told us that Nimaras had acquitted himself well in helping his company capture a band of brigands that had been harassing the Bree-land.”

“Did he now?” Thranduil visibly swelled with fatherly pride. “Ah, that does my heart much good. I look forward to the day when Gildor judges him sufficiently redeemed.” While he spoke, he caught sight of Legolas and Elrohir plying the newlyweds with strong ale and bawdy jests. “I pray they will find it in themselves to forgive him when he returns to us,” he murmured.

Celebrían regarded her younger son and his spouse. “They are great hearts,” she said. “I believe they will pardon him.” She then adroitly led the king down other avenues of conversation that he might set aside his unbidden melancholy.

A burst of raucous laughter and salacious chatter caught their attention. They turned to seek the cause of the gay commotion in time to espy Elladan and Galvreth slipping down the cobbled path to the residential pavilion. Only a dimwit would not guess their intent.

Elrond came to them, his face a picture of amusement and resignation. “I suppose it was too much to hope that they would stay a while longer at their own nuptial feast,” he wryly remarked.

Thranduil snorted. “More than too much,” he corrected. “Really, Elrond, one would think you did not know your own son!”

Celebrían giggled while her husband accepted the gibe with a specious scowl followed by a cheerful smirk.

***********

They came together with the ease of long time lovers. There was no need for one or the other to exercise care or restraint, as Elrohir had had to do on his and Legolas' binding night. Nor was there any shyness or doubts to mar the flow of their loving. Limbs sensuously entangled, their bodies all but melted into the other and mouths and hands roamed and ravaged until the chamber resounded with the sounds of their joy and pleasure.

A lithe shift of positions and they were rabidly drawing upon each other's lengths, engaging in a race at which end there was naught but utmost rapture. Elladan could only wonder in gratitude that fate had seen fit to gift him with this blessing. Cupping Galvreth's bottom he pulled the prince closer, eager for the taste and scent and feel of his love. He felt the muscles in the firm mounds tighten under his touch and he ran his hands soothingly over the taut flesh until they relaxed as much as was possible under his sensual assault.

But it was not long before they broke the limits of their bodily control. Elladan greedily downed the luscious cream of his mate's spending before he, too, spilled himself copiously into Galvreth's voracious mouth. And between them bliss such as they had never known before surged as their spirits touched and caressed in this first intimacy of their binding. Gasping in delighted shock, they glanced at each other in amazement. They had not even joined their bodies yet. How much stronger would the binding rapture be when they did?

They did not wait too long before they embarked on another round of loving, this one fated to end in complete union. In less time than either thought possible, they were primed for the ultimate joining of their bodies. Prepared to spread himself for Elladan's pleasure, Galvreth was therefore thoroughly surprised when he found himself pulled atop his mate instead.

“Elladan?”

Elladan brushed stray strands of shining hair from his cheek and forehead. “Your body may have healed but not so your mind. Not yet,” he said. “You flinched when all I did was caress you thusly.” He lightly ran his hand over Galvreth's bottom. Hearing the prince's sharp intake of breath, he nodded a little sadly. “You still associate such a touch with your torment. I will not rouse those memories this night of all nights. There should only be joy and passion in our bed, not fear or anger.”

Galvreth gazed searchingly at him. “But how can there be joy for you if you engage in this act unwilling?”

“If I was unwilling afore, 'twas because I feared to lose myself to you,” Elladan reasoned. “But that is no longer true and I would prove it by making a gift of my yielding to you, Galvreth. In gratitude and love. Please accept it.

Their eyes met and held. Elladan knew a prickle of relief when Galvreth finally leaned down to brush their lips together before locking them in a molten kiss. But a moment later, he started and gasped against his mate's mouth when he felt the knowing caress of long, agile fingers on regions where he had never previously permitted any to stray. One slid into him and he could not help tensing at the incursion. But Galvreth mimicked that intrusive action with his tongue and provided a pleasant distraction. Thus did he ready his skittish mate without distressing him over much.

He knew Elladan prepared for more when the twin pushed against his probing fingers, his enjoyment of pleasure overtaking his apprehension. Still and all, the width of a digit or two could not in any way match the girth of a fully roused shaft and Galvreth was impressively endowed for a Wood-elf. It must be the Sindarin blood in him, Elladan abstractedly mused, as he bore the slow press of thick flesh into him.

Galvreth felt much of his control slip away as he sank further into glorious velvet heat. For too long had he suppressed this particular desire with Elladan. His gradual entry suddenly gave way to a swift thrust and he embedded himself to the hilt. He heard Elladan's shocked gasp and knew for certain that he had reaped what no other had gained before him. The older twin's pinched features evinced the discomfort of his first ever sheathing of another Elf's flesh. He reached for Elladan's hand where it clutched the sheet beneath them and wove their fingers together. Swallowing hard, Elladan returned the grip.

“Do you wish for me to stop?” Galvreth queried with some concern.

The older twin shook his head and said, “'Twill be our way of loving until you are truly well. I want this, Galvreth. Do not stop.”

In implicit emphasis, he tightened the wrap of his legs around Galvreth's waist. The prince fought to steady his unruly feelings, so powerful was the urge to plunge and cleave and wholly own.

Do not hold back. Never hold back.

With Elladan's provoking thoughts resounding in his mind, Galvreth's restraint summarily shattered. Elladan moaned as he was repeatedly breached and filled with a sureness and strength that evinced his mate's mastery of him. The initial burn of invasion rapidly evolved into the spiraling scorch of rapture born of his body's surrender. The scorch turned into a conflagration when Galvreth gripped his achingly turgid length and proceeded to stroke it, driving away any remaining coherent thought Elladan might still have possessed. He did not later recall how often he uttered Galvreth's name in his ecstasy or cried out his bliss. He only knew that he did and with each spike of pleasure came a measure of astonishment and some regret that he had not surrendered himself to his lover's desire long before this. It might be years ere Galvreth could yield himself once more, mayhap even never again. But as intense rapture overwhelmed him, Elladan knew he cared not in the least if this was how they would know union from hereon.

As they approached the peak of their loving, they felt once more the welling of a pleasure not wholly owned by one or the other but shared as it surged through the newly forged link between them. And then it happened just before completion took them. Their spirits touched and at the height of their ecstasy merged into one. As countless Elves before them, they tumbled headlong into the binding rapture with no sense of time or place or purpose. All that mattered was the inimitable fusing of spirit unique to Elvenkind and with it the irrevocable sealing of hearts for all time.

Galvreth shuddered as ecstasy wracked his body, pooling at the last with explosive force in his groin. With a choked cry, he spilled himself for the first time inside Elladan's body and in such quantity that the excess ran back down his buried shaft. Gasping for breath, he gazed down at Elladan just as his mate spent himself as well, copious spurts of pearlescent cream coating the prince's hand and dappling their bellies. Lost in his bliss, hair splayed wildly on the pillow and love-bruised skin all a-flush from his completion, Elladan made a deliciously decadent picture. Galvreth feared he would barely have time to recover from his release before that wanton image spurred him into renewed arousal.

When both knew some lucidity, they gazed at each other in wonder and deepest joy. Elladan pulled Galvreth down to him and pressed kisses against the prince's throat and chest.

“Had I known…” Elladan murmured against his sleek neck. “I should have followed my brother's example long ago.”

Galvreth groaned when the incendiary touch of his mate's lips, teeth and tongue initiated another welling of tension in his nether regions. Still sheathed in Elladan's core, he made a stab at cautioning his lover.

“You will be sore come morning if you do not desist!” he warned.

Husky laughter all but demolished his good intentions. “And was that ever cause for complaint for you all these years?” Elladan teased him. His eyes widened slightly as he felt Galvreth harden and lengthen within him. He lay back and locked his ankles firmly at the small of Galvreth's back. “You fill me so well,” he moaned. “Have me again, melethron. Mark me as yours. Cleave me!”

Galvreth could not resist such a command when coupled with the flex of strong limbs drawing him into the depths of sweetest temptation. Withdrawing slightly, he paused a moment to stare into Elladan's lust-darkened pewter eyes. Full realization washed over him then that this Peredhel was truly and eternally his.

“I love you, Elladan,” he whispered.

He sank deep once more into incredible heat and softness. With that, speech was rendered needless as action conveyed everything that might need saying with a clarity and intensity mere words could never hope to match.

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

Glossary:

melethron - male lover

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

To be continued…
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- 33
- 34
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Twilight Tales - An Ounce of Kindness