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The Early Years: For the Sake of Friendship	By : nuwing Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 4976 -:- 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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~Triad~

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~Glorfindel~

It is with a profound sense of relief that I watch them squabble, their affectionate banter reassuringly familiar. Elrohir has eaten a dozen cookies, Elladan his weight in strawberries�were it not for the smattering of bruises and bite marks that adorn their pale skin, these past hours might have been an illusion.
They seem no less at ease with each other, nor with their reluctant mentor. Whatever else this night might bring for the gwanûn, I would have this brotherly rapport remain unchanged. Imladris would seem a dull place, indeed, were their spirited teasing to be replaced by naught but lover's sighs.
How to approach this next step? 'Tis at Elrond's insistence that I broach the subject at all. They are young, and their bond yet unsealed. Surely 'twould be wiser to wait, to allow an exploration of the passion between them, before beginning their instruction in the ways of a triad.
The gwanûn are watching me expectantly, and the words come at last, halting as they sound even to my own ears. "'Tis thought best that you have some small experience in sharing your bond with another, ere this rite ends."
'Rohir frowns thoughtfully, and I can see understanding spread across his face. Understanding, and not a little unease. 'Adan meets his brother's eyes briefly and their fingers interlace in an unconscious show of unity, then the clear silver gaze of Elrond's eldest turns to my face. "You have experience with such joinings, then, híren?" he asks calmly, as though inquiring after nothing more unusual than the status of the patrols.
He is Elrond remade, and I wonder idly if Elrohir is likewise a copy of Elros. Would that my liege-lord's twin were here, that I might make the judgment. But had Elros chosen otherwise, would the gwanûn be with us at all? Such questions do not bear close scrutiny. What is, is�and the current peredhil brothers are now eyeing me warily, disconcerted by my silence.
"Aye." I offer no further explanation. 'Tis neither the time nor place for that tale. Someday, mayhap, when they are older and presumably wiser. But I am postponing the moment again. Drawing a deep breath, and sending up a final prayer for coherency, I begin. In nearly painful detail.
Understanding comes with admirable swiftness, and Elrohir's unease seems to fade to cautious interest as the mechanics become clear. "And there are many ways to manage this, you say?" he asks curiously, visions of bent and twisted elves clearly visible in his eyes.
Elladan's concern is more basic, and less easily allayed. He is fearful that his brother may be unnecessarily hurt. In the end, 'tis Elrohir's gentle admonishments, rather than my reassurance, which break down his resistance, and 'Adan reluctantly agrees. He chuckles despite himself at the elf-knight's joking references to a "gwanûn sandwich".
'Sandwich', indeed. 'Twill be a lucky elf who is chosen to fill it on a more permanent basis. Their skin is like silk under my fingers, warm and soft. The gwanûn move in fluid synchronicity, mouths and hands seemingly controlled by one mind, suffering none of the awkward bumps and tangles that oft plague newly formed triads.
Elladan's hair falls across my face, a heavy curtain of ebony strands, and my heart clenches painfully as thoughts of Erestor rise unbidden. But even as the ache assails me, my mate's soothing voice echoes in my thoughts.

Melin chen, 'Findel. 'Tis no betrayal. I will be waiting, melethron.

Reassured by my bonded's acceptance, and buoyed by his promise, I turn my attention firmly back to the deed at hand, and Elrohir's first yielding. Despite Elladan's apparent authority in their relationship, the elf-knight is an aggressive warrior and an exuberant trickster. It is with some small sense of shock that I note how easily he surrenders- how much more comfortable Elrohir is than his brother with a submissive role.
'Tis plain to see who will lead in their coupling, at least for a while. Elladan takes control easily, with none of the reticence shown by his brother, and I recognize that smoldering glow in his darkened eyes, that need to possess, for I have oft seen it in my mirror. Elrond spoke confidently of the equality between gwanûn, though, so mayhap this, too, will change after their bond is sealed.
Half expecting another show of jealous rage from Elladan, I reach for the oil, and I am both relieved and a bit surprised when he settles close beside his brother, murmuring quietly as I begin the careful preparation. Though he witnessed the act earlier, Elrohir is caught off guard by the wet warmth of my mouth around his hard flesh and he yelps loudly, rising to his elbows to stare in disbelief before falling back, overcome by the novel sensation. I would chuckle, were I not otherwise occupied.
Valar, he is tight! A whimper escapes the elf-knight as a second finger pushes past the snug ring, and I stroke his stomach soothingly. Raising my head, I catch a flash of anger- quickly suppressed- in Elladan's obsidian dark gaze. "I will not hurt him past necessity, either, 'Adan."
The self-proclaimed protector has the grace to look apologetic, and I grant him a forgiving smile before returning to the task. More oil, more gentle stretching, another finger�and then Elrohir arches off the bed, a word he most assuredly did not learn under Erestor's tutelage bursting from his lips.
Elladan snorts in amusement, well aware of what has happened, then quickly grabs his brother's hand, stopping its reflexive descent. "Nay, 'Roh," he says gently, interlacing their fingers. "Wait a bit."
Elrohir's gaze is black as coal, his voice rasping as he tugs at Elladan's arm, pressing his hips upward in a frantic search for friction. "I cannot wait. Touch me, tôren. Please."
The struggle for restraint is visible in Elladan's face as his eyes sweep hungrily over the trembling form, finally coming to rest on the engorged arousal curved tightly against Elrohir's flat belly, a pool of glistening fluid under the weeping crown. An almost inaudible plea breaks through the drone of our ragged breathing. "Please, 'Dan. I need you."
Before my eyes, 'Adan's control shatters like glass on stone, and his hand moves purposefully down his brother's body. Elbereth! Why do I stare like a fool? This must not happen. Not yet.
Grasping Elladan's wrist firmly, I ignore the blaze of anger in his eyes, addressing Elrohir instead. "Turn over, pen neth. 'Tis time."
Desperate for release and seemingly beyond anxiety, the elf-knight rolls willingly, rising on elbows and knees with his flushed face pressed to the mattress and the creamy globes of his backside raised enticingly. A perfect rendition of the position we have chosen, a compromise between his comfort and Elladan's convenience. "Like this?" he asks hoarsely, pulling the glossy length of his hair forward.
My heart is pounding so that I can do no more than nod as I move behind him, gripping the slender hips with oil slick hands. Unable to cuddle him in this position, I whisper soothingly, stroking his back as I sink forward with agonizing slowness. Oh, gods. So hot and tight and soft. Oh, gods�faster�I need�I need to breathe. He makes no protest, though his hands clutch convulsively at the wrinkled sheets, and at last we are snugged together, and I can hold him, murmuring reassurance as his body adjusts to this first invasion.
As the near dizzying tightness eases somewhat, I move cautiously, alert for any sign of worsening pain�but ill-prepared for Elrohir's response. With a harsh groan he rises to his hands, pushing back forcefully against the shallow thrusts. Sweet Eru! Grabbing his hips tightly to stem the frantic movements, I meet Elladan's questioning gaze and nod slightly.
To my surprise, I feel a trickle of oil, then a gentle finger spreads the slippery fluid over and into my still stretched entrance. Knowing there would be no need for a full preparation, I have told my young lover only to oil himself well. The thoughtfulness of the gesture bodes well for their fusing, I wager.
I hear Elladan's harsh breathing, feel his hands on my hips, slick and trembling, and then he is groaning, a fierce guttural sound that melds with the growl ripped from my own chest as I am breached with one steady push, the force driving me deeper into Elrohir's writhing body.
There is a brief moment of calm, a last glimpse of sanity in which I worry for 'Rohir, then we are moving, and the world narrows to velvet heat and savage thrusts�gods, I had forgotten how it feels�filling and being filled�the pleasure and pain blurring into one perfect whole�
And then I am howling, my hands fisted in Elrohir's tangled hair, burrowing forward, coming in hard spurts deep inside him even as hot cream spills over my pumping fist and into my shuddering body. Then it is dark and quiet.
*********************************
Glorfindel slipped carefully from the jumble of arms and legs, wincing slightly as he made his way to the bathing chamber. It had been many years since he submitted twice in one night, and his body reminded him of the fact with every step.
Half-filling the bath, he scrubbed gratefully, washing and rinsing his tousled hair until it glinted like sunlight in the candle-lit room. Untangling the heavy golden length carefully, he tied it back loosely, before draining and rinsing the tub.
Running a generous tub full of steaming water, the golden elf sprinkled it liberally with healing herbs, then returned to the bed chamber, slipping into his sleep pants before he gently shook the twins awake. "Come along, ernilen," he insisted kindly. "You will sleep better tonight and feel better tomorrow if you have a good soak now."
Settling the reluctant younglings in the tub, Glorfindel quickly stripped the bed, making it fresh with silky black linens. Moving around the room, he snuffed out all the candles save the one on the bed table, then banked the dying fire. Satisfied with his efforts, he picked up the jar of salve from the bed table and returned to the bathing chamber, only to find his freshly washed companions nearly asleep in the water.
With skill born of long centuries tending both wounded and drunken warriors, the Balrog-slayer loosed Elladan's beaded braid, then soaped and rinsed the ebony mane, drying the silken strands well and binding them in a single loose plait. Urging the elder twin out of the tub and into a towel, the seneschal turned his attention to Elrohir, and soon both were washed, braided, and towel wrapped.
Opening the jar of salve, Glorfindel met two wary grey gazes frankly. "I must look you over, pin nith, and apply some healing salve," he stated calmly. "I will see to you first, Elrohir."
Agreeing reluctantly- after it became clear that refusal was not an option- the elf-knight stood stoically as his tender bottom was gently probed, then coated with the soothing cream. Elladan looked as though he might flee, but the arch of one golden eyebrow made him think better of it, and he, too, submitted quietly to Glorfindel's examination.
"Now you are ready for a good rest, no doubt," the golden elf offered cheerfully, scrubbing his hands in the draining tub.
Leading the way back to the bed chamber, he tucked the exhausted twins into bed as though they were but elflings, pressing a chaste kiss to each dark head. "Maer dú, 'Adan�'Rohir," Glorfindel said quietly. "Posto mae."
"Maer dú, híren," Elladan and Elrohir chorused sleepily, their eyes beginning to close. Suddenly the elf-knight's eyes flew open, and he reached for the ancient elf's hand. "Are you leaving?"
"I will sit with you a while, pen dithen," the Balrog-slayer said with a smile. "If you like."
"Hannon chen," Elrohir murmured, snuggling closer to his brother as his eyes slid closed.
Glorfindel sat silently for a few minutes, listening as the twins' breathing became slower and deeper, seeming to synchronize as they slid into sleep. Rising noiselessly, the golden elf snuffed out the candle and made his way toward his own bed. And Erestor.

TBC�.

Elvish translations:

gwanûn - twins

híren - my lord

Melin chen - I love you

melethron - lover (male)

tôren - my brother

ernilen - my prince(s)

pen neth - young one

pin nith - young ones

pen dithen - little one

Maer dú - good night

posto mae - rest/sleep well

hannon chen - thank you
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The Early Years: For the Sake of Friendship