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Greenleaf & Imladris 28 - In His Father's Image	By : MPB Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 5531 -:- 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.

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Chapter IV

Eryn Gael, Ithilien, Nínui FA 81

“Adar?”—Father? “Would you explain something to us?”

“Ask.”

“Why did you and Uncle Elrohir not pass judgment on Merenwë yourselves?”

Elladan looked at his sons in startlement. As did Lindir who was supervising the laying of tables and benches in the clearing before Legolas’ halls. He surreptitiously eyed the twins and their father, wondering at their belated curiosity.

At the approach of their majority rites, the twins had surprised and delighted their parents by requesting that the celebrations be held in Ithilien. It had been a surprise for they had not previously indicated this preference. It had taken Elladan and Nimeithel unawares. But it had well pleased them. For one, the milder climate of the south would permit the festivities to be held outdoors. But even more important, it meant the entire royal family of Gondor would now be able to attend the rites. There had been the greatest chance that Arwen would be unable to make the long journey north. She was childing again with her sixth and last babe and was prone to the illnesses that beset expecting women of all races.

And so they had departed for the south towards autumn’s end and wintered in Eryn Gael, residing in the gracious dwelling Legolas and Elrohir called home.

This morn, the colony was humming with activity as its Elves readied their abode for the festivities that very evening. Already, word had reached them of Aragorn and Arwen’s imminent arrival along with their only son, Eldarion, his wife, Ilien, and their two children and his four sisters, three law-brothers and one small niece and an infant nephew.

“Why do you ask this only now?” Elladan said quizzically. Five years had passed since Merenwë’s ignoble departure from Middle-earth.

“In truth, we were so eager to see him punished at the time that we did not give much thought to the reasoning behind your judgment,” Elendir explained.

“But now we very much desire to comprehend it,” Elros said.

“That we may be guided should we be called upon to make a similar choice,” Elendir concluded.

Elladan smiled, not a little proud of their inquisitiveness. “What do you wish to know in particular?” he asked.

Elros said: “Why did you send him to Valinor? Was it your intention that our grandsire and grandam and Grandmother Galadriel be the ones to judge him?”

“Nay, never that,” Elladan replied. “They would have inhibited themselves from such an action in the first place. They are too close in kinship to us to make a sound or just decision. Our reason for sending Merenwë hence was less noble than you may wish.” When neither twin flinched, he continued.

“We knew he would find it more unbearable to be sent thus than any punishment we might have meted out to him.” He grinned a little ruefully at their astonished stares. “You have your Grandfather Celeborn to thank for that. ‘Twas ever his way of disciplining his own people of Lórien. A simple matter of choosing that which is feared or loathed and using it as a means of chastisement. ‘Twas a most effective means of teaching a lesson and still is.”

The brethren shook their heads in amazement then looked to where their silver-haired forefather sat with their mother, discussing with her some matter or other.

Celeborn had been away during the events that had culminated in Merenwë’s banishment. But even then he’d had a great influence on his grandsons’ subsequent decisions. Admiration stirred in the twins’ blue-ringed grey eyes.

“Thank you, Ada”—Papa—they chorused before hurrying off to complete their own chores.

Still smiling, Elladan turned his attention back to his previous task. He caught Lindir looking his way. He raised questioning eyebrows. The steward flushed embarrassedly and hastily turned away.

From the window of his second-level bedchamber, Elrohir observed him in turn. The warrior had been putting the final touches to the portraits of the twins both had begged of him as his coming-of-age gifts to them. Hearing their voices, he had risen to his feet and peeked out the window to see what they were about. He was as amused as his brother at their curiosity, however late in coming it was. He’d taken a further moment to survey the activity in the clearing. His gaze had eventually fallen on Lindir.

He wondered what the steward would do. After this day, Elendir and Elros would be free to pursue and be pursued. Would Lindir make his love known to Elros? From what he had gleaned from the other Elf’s utterances and past behavior, he doubted it.

He will continue to suffer in silence for want of love as I once did, he thought sadly.

A pair of arms snaked themselves around his waist from behind. He shivered as Legolas ran a wicked tongue up the curved rim of his ear to lightly suckle the delicate tip.

“I did not hear you come in,” he murmured, turning his head to steal a kiss from the archer.

“You were busy pondering Lindir’s travails,” Legolas said. He held the Elf-knight closer. “He reminds you of your own self,” he softly added.

Elrohir nodded, willingly leaning against the lean but powerful frame of his mate. “He is in a most difficult position,” he opined. “At least, my hesitation to woo you did not stem from a sense of inequality in our stations in life. His does.”

“Yet our nephews have never set great store by such considerations,” Legolas commented.

Elrohir shrugged. “Would that Lindir might believe that and declare himself.”

“There is, of course, the risk that Elros might decline his courtship after all,” Legolas gently pointed out.

“There is always that risk in matters of the heart,” Elrohir agreed. “But Lindir would take it if he thought himself worthy of Elros’ regard. He is no coward.”

“Only overly respectful of your family’s exalted heritage,” Legolas finished with a series of nips to the side of the Elf-knight’s neck.

“Aye, that is the sum of it.” A pause. “Calenlass, if you go any higher, no collar will suffice to conceal the evidence of your affection for me.”

“As if you care,” Legolas purred, purposely leaving a blatant love-bruise that no tunic would be able to hide.

Elrohir, caught between a groan and a chuckle, settled on a gasp instead. “Shouldn’t you be helping down yonder?” he mildly inquired as yet another mark made its appearance on his fair skin.

Legolas peered over his shoulder at the goings-on below. His sister had corralled several Elves and was sweetly inveigling them into doing whatever she desired of them.

“Nimeithel has everything well in hand,” he murmured. “As do I.”

Elrohir uttered a much louder gasp when a questing hand disappeared down the front of his breeches. He gazed sideways at Legolas in wry admiration. The archer had loosened his lacings without his knowledge.

He said with some difficulty as he was clutched and fondled and stroked, “Shirking your duties, ernilen?”—my prince?

Legolas chuckled breathily. “I am merely taking time to attend to other matters, melethron.”—lover.

Satisfied with the warrior’s state of arousal, he released him. Elrohir turned to face him, pulling him close in a patently unchaste manner. Legolas smiled and cupped his face, leaned in to take a deep draught of his lips. When he drew back, the argent eyes were as lust-darkened as he could desire.

“You have tended to your gift to the gwenyn”—twins—“long enough, Aduial,” he whispered. “‘Tis time you tended to me for a spell.”

********

The rites were duly observed with all the gravity and merriment the occasion demanded. At their core were two of the comeliest Elves ever to be born into Middle-earth. So beautiful that it was not surprising a good number of the Edhil present, both ellyn and ellith—male Elves and Elf-maids—could not help hoping for the honor of gaining either twin’s first bedding. And if they followed in their father’s footsteps, that event would not wait out the night’s ending.

Elendir made no secret at all of his interest in the beauteous Elf-maids of Eryn Gael, ogling them openly in flagrant consideration of their charms. Nimeithel was seen to cast an accusing if slightly amused look at Elladan who seemed uncharacteristically abashed by his son’s behavior.

Elros, however, kept his desire well concealed. He flirted maddeningly with all and sundry but showed none more favor than another. Clearly, if he was going to use the occasion as his brother obviously planned to, he was not going to let anyone know who would be sharing his bed this night.

Lindir studied him pensively. Of one thing the steward was certain, it would be an ellon, a male Elf, that Elros would take as his bed-teacher. The young Elf had made that clear five years ago. And he was not one of Ithilien’s Elves for Elros had also indicated a long selected choice.

He watched the younger twin now as he jested with some of the Imladrin warriors who had accompanied the family to Gondor—Helmir, Dirion and Meluin. It might be one of them, Lindir thought. Elros had kept company with these three quite frequently for the past many years. It would be natural for Elros to gravitate to an Elven soldier’s uncommon strength and battle prowess, traits his own father possessed. Lindir also knew they were present at Elros’ own behest. But of course. He would have ensured that his chosen lover would be amongst the company that had escorted his family south.

His attention was caught by a commotion amongst the dancers. Queen Arwen had been coaxed into joining a woodland dance with Elessar despite her swollen belly. Her children and children-by-law were lost in their mirth at the sight of Aragorn trying to avoid getting butted by the result of his latest siring.

Lindir broke into an amused grin as well. All Gondor had been awed by their queen’s fecundity. Few could believe that a lady with four grandchildren to her name could still be capable of carrying yet another babe of her own. But Arwen, while shorn of the immortality of her race, had not lost the agelessness of the Edhil. Thus, she was still youthful of face and form, her countenance unlined, her hair un-streaked by grey and her body still fertile. Only toward her life’s end, as with the scions of Aragorn’s line, would she know the aging of mortals though not their full weakening.

It was as the dance was coming to an end that Lindir noticed Elendir slipping away arm-in-arm with an elleth—Elf-maid—of considerable beauty and elegance. He shook his head. The older twin certainly knew how to choose well. The Elf-maid was no innocent; she would be a most enthralling and thorough teacher this night.

He glanced back at Elros to find him gone. He swallowed hard. As was Dirion.

Pain lanced through Lindir’s very being in that instant. So, it was for Dirion that Elros had reserved this night. He struggled to collect himself, sternly reminding himself that he had known this would happen and, therefore, should not affect him overmuch. But he found he could not still the sudden frantic beating of his heart or loosen the cruel tightening of his throat.

Fearing to be seen by the others in such a state of obvious misery, he rose to his feet and left the clearing. He hurried to the small garden behind Legolas’ house. No one would venture here. He would be alone. He would be safe from prying eyes. If he wept, none would witness him and shrivel him with pity.

Lindir sank down onto a bench. History had repeated itself it seemed. Just as he had stood by and quietly watched Elladan slip away from his coming-of-age celebration with a beauteous Lindon maiden so had he now endured the Elvenlord’s younger son leaving to keep an assignation with another ellon.

With a heavy heart he wondered at his fate to love those who were beyond his reach. For just as Elladan had once been forbidden to him so now was Elros, his father’s assent notwithstanding. He sighed disconsolately. Once more he would resign himself to watching over his beloved while others took what he himself so greatly desired but was forced to deny himself. As Elladan had earlier commented, it was a wonder he had not faded from the grief. But then to fade would be to separate himself from his love and that was far worse than having it go unrequited.

It came to him then that things would not be quite that simple. His love for Elladan’s son was deeper than what he’d felt for Elladan himself. The realization struck him hard. I may very well fade after all, he thought. Mayhap ‘tis time I considered departing for Valinor. But the very idea of leaving his heart’s choice behind weighed all too heavily on him.

As I did not leave your father, so will I stay at your side, pen neth—young one—he decided sadly. Even if it cost him the ultimate price.

He started when a slight figure appeared before him. He stared at Elros; the youth looked almost ethereal in the soft silvery glow of the lamps. He had doffed his tunic and was clad in the thin shirt and fine breeches the outer raiment had hidden. He regarded the steward uncertainly.

“Elros!” Lindir half exclaimed, surprised to see the young Elf. He swiftly rose to his feet. “Why did you leave Dirion?”

“Dirion?” Elros repeated bemusedly. Then he suddenly smiled. “Did you think he was with me? I saw him go to his quarters with an Ithilien Elf.”

Lindir was dumbstruck a moment. He had made a wrong assumption.

“Aye, I thought you were together,” he admitted. “But why are you here? Do you not enjoy the festivities?”

Elros shrugged. “I do,” he replied. “But I came to claim what you have withheld, Lindir.”

“What would that be?” the steward asked bemusedly.

“Why, what else but your gift to me for my coming-of-age,” the twin answered with a grin.

Lindir flushed. “I am so sorry, Elros,” he said embarrassedly. “In truth I did not think to get you one. But I promise I will do so if you will but wait.”

The younger Elf laughed softly. The sound made Lindir wish he could bolt before his reaction betrayed him. “But I know what I want, Lindir, and you need not seek it elsewhere for the gift I desire is right here.”

Lindir looked at him, perplexed. “What gift do you desire?” he asked cautiously.

The sapphire-ringed grey eyes gleamed softly. “You,” Elros quietly replied.

For several moments, Lindir could only stare at him in incredulous shock. “I-I beg your pardon?” he finally managed to say.

“‘Tis you I would have on this special day,” Elros earnestly told him. “The gift I desire above all else. I have been waiting for nigh ten years to claim it.”

The steward was rendered speechless once more. Elros pressed on, his eyes glittering in the dim light. “I overheard you when you spoke with Adar that summer. I did not mean to eavesdrop but when I heard your voice and what you were saying I could not help myself. You cannot imagine how happy I was to know you felt thusly about me. And I would have you know that I am not beyond your reach. I never was, Lindir.”

“But you – you never indicated—” Lindir stammered in disbelief.

“‘Twas to spare you any suspicions of your intentions,” Elros explained. “I sensed how much you wanted me. You would have been even more hard-pressed to suppress your desire had you known of my regard. I did not want Adar and Naneth to suspect you of any unseemly designs upon me.”

Lindir forced himself to calm down. “Then ‘twas I you were referring to that day—?”

“In the woods, aye,” Elros affirmed, eyes sparkling with mingled mirth and open affection.

The steward took a deep breath. “Elros, do not ask this of me,” he replied in a hushed voice. As a sudden frown appeared on the youth’s fair countenance, he swept on. “I cannot in all honor give you your desire.”

“Why not?” Elros queried stubbornly. “Why would you refuse me this when I know you care for me.”

“Aye, I care for you, as I have always cared for all your family,” Lindir said, willing his voice to remain steady and unquavering.

Elros’ eyes narrowed confusedly. ”I heard you say you had feelings for me. Was I mistaken?” he said, his voice suddenly small, his eyes widening with consternation. “You told Adar that you had loved him,” he half whispered. “Did you truly?”

Lindir sighed and nodded. Elros stepped back, visibly flinching. “Then ‘tis Father you desire and not me,” he choked, his voice ringing with pain. He lowered his eyes, his cheeks beginning to redden. “I misunderstood. I am sorry for imposing on you.”

Lindir felt his own heart clench at the anguish in the twin’s voice. His face flaming with humiliation, Elros spun on his heels to flee. But strong arms caught him and he was enveloped in the steward’s embrace.

“Nay!” Lindir declared softly to the trembling Elf. “I loved him once but that is past. ‘Tis you who holds my heart now, Elros, only you.”

“Then why would you deny me?” Elros whispered brokenly.

“I am not worthy of your regard,” Lindir murmured. “You are descended from kings and legends. I am but a mere steward who once was but a lowly housemaster.”

“A housemaster and steward who has served my family for millennia,” Elros reverently said. “My teacher and mentor and dear friend.” He lifted his eyes to gaze at Lindir. “My heart’s choice.” The steward caught his breath as he espied the boundless emotion in their depths.

“You are still young,” he said, stalling for time. “You will change your mind some day and rue that your first brush with love was with someone like me.”

“I will not change my mind,” the twin whispered. “Do you not see? I am fated for you. I would have you find your solace in my arms. Please, let me love you.”

His words shattered what little remained of Lindir’s resolve. He cupped the beloved face and claimed Elros’ lips. Instantly, the younger Elf melted into his embrace, surrendering wholeheartedly to his kiss. Lindir groaned against the other’s silky mouth, amazed at just how untouched Elladan’s son was.

He drew back with an effort and stared at Elros. The young Elf’s eyes were dark with newly awakened passion, his cheeks a delicious rosy hue.

“Do not stop now, Lindir!” Elros exclaimed. “If you truly love me you will make this night special for me!”

So demanding, Lindir thought with a rush of desire. He did not know whether to laugh or protest when Elros pulled him back towards the house. He was quite undone however by his soon-to-be lover’s audacity as the younger Elf paused on the stairs several times to claim a myriad kisses from him. By the time they reached Elros’ room, he was no longer of a mind to desist from having what was so lovingly offered to him.

Scarcely had they entered the bedchamber when he drew the willing body into his arms and reclaimed the pliant lips. Gently urging them to part, he finally savored the sweetness he had long believed strictly forbidden to him. Skillfully, thoroughly, hungrily, he plundered the reaches of that honeyed warmth while his hands roamed the slender body. He delighted in the feel of the fine muscles beneath the twin’s thin shirt.

The thought of getting to know this cherished form so very intimately vanquished all remaining restraint. He drew away once more, silencing Elros’ protests by reaching for the ties of the younger Elf’s shirt and undoing them one by one. Color flooded the twin’s cheeks when he realized what this portended. But he did not resist and remained absolutely still as he was slowly, ever so gently undressed.

When he was finally clad in naught but his skin, Lindir stood back to look at him. Elros forced himself to meet the older Elf’s eyes. The passion-darkened gaze of the steward robbed him of his breath. Striving to maintain some semblance of calm, he reached out his own hands to the clasps on Lindir’s tunic.

“Do I get to unwrap my present?” he shakily asked.

Lindir could not help smiling at the choice of words. He nodded, letting his hands drop to his sides while Elros set to divesting him of his garments. Layer upon layer of rich material slid to the floor. When he was done Elros looked up to survey his gift. He sucked in his breath sharply as he beheld Lindir’s bared form.

“You are more magnificent than I imagined,” he whispered in awe.

“Not as wondrous as you,” Lindir huskily replied. “You cannot know what this moment means to me,” he added, drawing Elros towards the bed. With utmost tenderness he bore the twin down, following him swiftly, melding their forms together for the first time without the barrier of clothing.

After a lifetime of denial and restraint, of loneliness and silence, Lindir poured all that he had in his heart and soul onto the beloved Elf in his arms. Skill learned in carnal exploration however shallow and empty he finally put to use in love. Mastery in seduction he diverted into tender, worshipful courtship. Elros realized with deep gratitude that he was reaping countless years’ worth of knowledge and suppressed emotion.

When Lindir took him the world seemed to dissolve into nothingness save for the heat of their straining bodies, the beating of their hearts, the sounds of their increasingly shallow breaths. No passive lover despite his youth and inexperience, Elros relied on his instincts and arched up into the older Elf’s thrusts, pressed his mouth against sweat-sheened skin, delighting in the tremors that rippled the sleek muscles of Lindir’s shoulders and chest.

The steward gasped at the sensations wrought by the twin’s caresses. Intent on prolonging the pleasure for his newly claimed lover, he clamped down hard on the urge to drive hard into the supple body beneath him and take his joy soonest. In so doing, he heightened their pleasure, leaving them both panting wildly for more.

But inevitably, inexorably, their joined bodies demanded completion. Lindir reached between them to caress his young meleth—love—and ensure his release. Elros reared in shock at the joint sensations of being stroked and filled at the same time. Sobbing, he yielded to Lindir’s ministrations, uttering the steward’s name as he spent himself between their slender forms. It took but a few scant seconds for Lindir to follow suit, his body pushed over the edge by the clenching of Elros’ muscles around him. Pleasure so pure and profound undid him completely; he had never felt the like before. Then again, he had never shared his body in love before.

Careful not to crush Elros beneath his heavier bulk, he lay beside the young Elf, pulling him against his chest. For several moments, they were content to lie thusly, enjoying each other’s close presence, murmuring words of love to each other.

At length, Elros stirred and lifted his head from Lindir’s chest. “Father bade me wait until I am much older,” he softly said. “But I must know now, Lindir – will you bind to me one day?”

Lindir stared at him in shock. “Elros, you are newly come of age,” he protested. “A binding is for eternity.”

“Which pleases me all the more,” Elros smiled. “I will not demand that we bind at once. My parents would never countenance it. But I would demand a betrothal at the very least.”

Lindir stroked his cheek with his knuckles. “Why so hasty, seron vell?”—beloved?

The twin’s sparkled at the endearment. “I would like to ensure that no other will take you away from me,” he said.

“Take me away?” Lindir echoed. “Who would want me so much as to attempt it?”

“You belittle your charms overmuch,” Elros gently chided. “Do you not know that half the warriors of Imladris adore you?” He quickly pressed a kiss to his lover’s mouth when the other stiffened. “You shared many a bed amongst them and they in turn told me of your charms. Helmir, Dirion and Meluin were especially forthcoming about you.”

Lindir was speechless. “So that is why you kept company with them,” he gasped at last. “You were asking them about me!”

Elros raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Of course! What did you think—?” He suddenly guffawed. “You thought my choice was one of them?” He laughed out loud, the happy sound music to Lindir’s ears. “Nay, they knew what I was about and were all too glad to counsel me.”

“In what matter?”

He groaned when the young Elf suddenly straddled him. “This,” Elros whispered. “They told me you enjoy being ridden now and then, meleth.”

He soon proved that he was indeed Elladan’s son if his instincts in love-play were any indication thereof. It was an exhausted Lindir who weakly but laughingly pulled him close in the wake of their second coupling.

“You have not given me your answer,” Elros pantingly reminded him.

Lindir smiled widely, his wondrous hazel eyes bright with love and devotion. “I can think of no greater blessing than to be yours for eternity, Elros,” he whispered.

With a contented sigh, Elros snuggled into his arms. Lindir turned his head and looked out the window at the starry sky beyond. Gratitude welled up within him and he silently thanked the Powers for the incomparable gift they had bestowed on him this day. He looked at his young love as the other slowly gave in to the pull of sleep. Mine at last, he thought with delight before joining Elros in peaceful slumber.

********

Elladan and Elrohir glanced up at the dimly lighted windows of the twins’ bedchambers. They were seated at one of the tables, their respective mates leaning against them, also regarding the windows above.

“For one who was never known for moderation, you are overly concerned about your sons’ activities tonight,” Elrohir remarked. “Surely you expected this.”

Elladan cast a jaundiced look at him; the look turned decidedly more pointed when he espied the telltale bruise above his brother’s collar.

“You are fortunate you have no children to worry about,” Elladan said. “Considering what you and I know about these matters, I will not deny feeling some anxiety.”

Legolas, who had been nuzzling Elrohir’s neck, lifted his golden head and looked wonderingly at the older twin. “Who would have thought that one as voracious as you would be rendered so anxious by this moment?”

“I had thought they would delay it at least.”

“And why would they when neither you nor Elrohir did?”

Elladan sighed at this reminder of his youthful impatience. Nimeithel laughed and placed a soothing hand on his thigh.

“Knowing you, I fully expected this,” she admitted. “But you are not alone in your concerns, meleth. I, too, hope for their felicity come morning.”

Elladan smiled and held her closer, dipping his head to kiss her neck. “At least, we can be certain of someone else’s felicity,” he murmured against her sweet flesh.

“Aye, finally,” Elrohir chuckled. He glanced up again at Elros’ windows. “He is most skilled in keeping secrets.”

“In that he seems to have taken after you,” Legolas said.

Elrohir grinned then looked about. It was late and the celebrations were winding down. Already, Aragorn and Arwen had retired to their chamber that the queen might take her rest. Their children had followed their example. He glanced at his brother and laughed softly. Nimeithel’s hand on Elladan’s thigh was proving far more than soothing if her husband’s obvious reaction was any indication of his state of being.

“I believe ‘tis time you both retired as well, gwaniuar”—older twin—he teased. “There are still a number of pin nith”—young ones—“present and it will not do to frighten them with your antics.”

Elladan snorted but made no protest. He simply stood up, gently but firmly pulling Nimeithel along with him.

“To bed, wife,” he purred and led her back to the house.

Legolas watched them go then gasped as he felt himself firmly clutched as well. He stared at Elrohir. The Elf-knight was lazily looking at him but the depths of his mithril eyes were anything but languid.

“Revenge, Aduial?” the prince whispered a little unevenly as his need was steadily and relentlessly stoked.

A devouring kiss stole his breath away. Elrohir drew back and smiled at the results of his ministrations.

“Come, Calenlass,” he cooed. “‘Tis time I tended to you for more than a spell.”

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

Nínui - Sindarin for February

Adar - Father

Calenlass - Greenleaf

Aduial - Twilight

Edhil - Elves

Naneth - Mother

The End
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Greenleaf & Imladris 28 - In His Father's Image