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Winter Pleasures	By : nuwing Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 1686 -:- 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-Winter Pleasures
- 1
*Title: Winter Pleasures
(Written for the Slashy Santa exchange, Dec. 2004)
*Author: Minuial Nuwing
*Contact: minuial_nuwing@yahoo.com
*Website: http://geocities.com/minuial_nuwing
*Rating: NC-17
*Type: FPS
*Pairing: Thranduil/Erestor/Celeborn, Elladan/Elrohir/Legolas implied
*Warning: None, really. Major sap, shameless PWP. And vaguely implied twincest- sorry, but
it's who I am! **grin**
*Archive: Slashysanta.com, First Light, AFF.net, LoM, OEAM; Others: I
would be honored-Just let me know, please!
*Feedback: Makes me smile, and write faster…
*Summary: A Mid-winter's day in Imladris at the beginning of the Fourth Age...snow, firelight, and elves.
*Beta: Fimbrethiel (hugs)
*Notes: Italics indicate mindspeak or thoughts, when not used for simple emphasis. In plain-text,
stars (**) indicate italics. One star (*blah*) for emphasis, two stars (**blah**) for mindspeak or
thoughts.
*Disclaimer: Only the quirks and perversions are mine. Everything else belongs to the creator-god of Middle Earth, J.R.R. Tolkien. I am awed by his gifts and humbled by his vision. I promise to
clean them all up and return them with smiles on their faces when I am done playing!

*A/N: Requested plot: Thranduil/Erestor/Celeborn, Just some good ol' fashioned holiday smut.
The rest I'll leave up to the writer.

********************************************
Winter Pleasures
********************************************
Imladris, Rhîw 112 IV
Thranduil stood on the library balcony, heedless of the falling snow that peppered his golden hair
and cooled his mulled wine. Despite the muffling blanket of white that shrouded the hidden
valley, the woodland king easily heard the shouts and boisterous laughter that floated up from the
training field, where his law-sons wrestled and wallowed in the icy drifts.
"'Tis difficult to remember that you observe the Lord of Imladris, and his Lord-seneschal, is it not?"
Celeborn chuckled, joining his friend at the railing.
"Aye, 'tis hard to fathom" Thranduil agreed with a grin. "And harder still to remember that he is the
Lord of Ithilien," he added with snort, as Legolas flung himself headlong into the melee.
"I am glad the both of you joined us for the Mid-winter feasting, mellonen," the silver-haired elf
said seriously, laying an affectionate hand on the king's shoulder. "'Tis too quiet in Imladris these
days."
At that moment a howl rang out from the field below, followed by a roar of "ELROHIR!", and the
deadened pounding of running feet on snow.
Thranduil raised one golden eyebrow in amusement, and took his friend's arm. "I believe we have
solved that problem, at least, meldir. I assume there is more wine?"
******************************************
Erestor curled comfortably in the corner of the large sofa, the flickering firelight dancing in his
ebony eyes. The fresh mug of mulled wine Celeborn had handed him steamed enticingly,
carrying the delicious scents of fruit, honey, and spices to his appreciative nose.
Thranduil lounged on the floor before the fire, his damp hair gleaming like burnished gold in the
red light as he idly worked out the tangles with one hand, the other clasped firmly around his
freshened drink.
The three elf-lords were comrades of long-standing: Friends, counselors, brothers-in-arms, and
even lovers from time to time. Their silence was not awkward, but the companionable state of
those who have seen and heard and done much together. Small talk was no longer expected.
Celeborn dropped into an oversized chair- legs flung over one padded arm, head on the other-
and his silver hair brushed the floor as he stretched, arching his back with a pleasurable groan.
Sipping his warm wine carefully, he looked toward the fire to find Thranduil's emerald green eyes
fixed on him appraisingly.
"Will you sail, mellonen?" the woodland king asked suddenly, holding his friend's clear grey gaze.
"We have been long in Middle-earth, you and I."
The former Lord of Lórien sighed heavily. "Aye, when the time comes, I will. I am not yet ready to
forsake these shores. But someday...mayhap I will sail with the gwanûn, and Erestor. My family
is there, but my heart lingers here." Pausing a moment, he asked, "And you? Will you go?"
Thranduil nodded slowly. "I will, though like you I am not yet ready. I will sail with Legolas and
the gwanûn, after…"
"After Estel and Arwen are no more," Erestor finished for him, his dark eyes sad, but accepting.
"There will be time enough for mourning in the years to come, mellynen," he said firmly. "'Tis a
beautiful Mid-winter's day, and…"
"Perfect weather for a walk outdoors," Elrohir broke in with a grin, bursting into the library in a swirl
of snow and fresh air. "Come with us, hmm?"
"Can we not take in the air from the balcony, pen neth?" the chief advisor asked, unfolding his
legs reluctantly.
"Nay, you cannot," the elf-knight retorted, tugging Erestor to his feet. "At least not well enough to
appreciate the true beauty of the day." Turning to Thranduil, Elrohir extended a hand and waited
impatiently, his grey eyes sparkling.
The woodland king regarded his law-son suspiciously for a moment, his gaze softening as it lit on
the bold twist of mithril and gold that adorned the younger twin's right forefinger. "Very well," he
conceded, allowing himself to be pulled from the floor. "I will come."
Elrohir arched one ebony eyebrow at Celeborn. "Iauradar?"
"In a moment," the ancient elf agreed with a smile. "Allow us to finish our wine."
The elf-knight's eyes fairly sparkled with delight. "Excellent!" he crowed, in a tone of voice that
boded no good for his elders. Meeting three pair of narrowed eyes he added hastily, "I will let
'Dan and 'Las know that you are coming."
As soon as the door closed behind Elrohir, Celeborn drew a deep breath and sat up, quickly
braiding his waist length hair. "There are spare leathers in the hall, mellonen," he said resignedly,
clapping a hand on Thranduil's shoulder. "And I would suggest that we all bind our hair."
Meeting Erestor's doleful gaze, he nodded sagely. "I know my grandsons."
**************************************
The first snowball hit Celeborn square in the face. Legolas, who had intended the missile for his
father, was mortified. Even Elladan and Elrohir were a bit unnerved. A long moment of silence
ensued, during which the normally dignified Lord Celeborn removed snow from his nose and
eyelashes.
"I…forgive me, híren," the woodland prince stammered nervously, his blue-green eyes big as
saucers. "'Twas meant for Ada."
Lifting one elegant eyebrow, the silver haired elf remarked dryly, "'Tis a very good thing, ernilen,
that your aim is better with a bow." Stooping to collect a handful of snow, he formed a smooth
sphere, then continued mildly, "I, however, am a master of many weapons."
The snowball left Celeborn's hand with lightning speed, smacking Legolas in the chest ere he was
aware of its flight. Two more followed, striking the twins with impressive accuracy, and then chaos
reigned. Icy missiles flew in all directions, sometimes finding their mark, sometimes landing
harmlessly in the heavy drifts.
The chill air filled with shouts and laughter, and pale skin flushed with cold and excitement. Only
when the battle threatened to disintegrate into hand-to-hand combat did Erestor declare it a draw.
"'Tis time for a long bath and a hot drink before dinner," he said with a grin, effectively ending the
twins' good-natured grumbling.
Elladan wrapped both arms around Legolas, and the woodland prince leaned back comfortably
against his chest. "Will you join us in the pools?" the elder twin asked politely, his darkened gaze
daring anyone to accept.
"Aye, please do," Elrohir added with the same patent insincerity. "The water will be quite pleasant
today."
"I think not, pin nith," Thranduil answered with the faintest hint of a smile. "Though the invitation is
appreciated. 'Twill be best if we return to the house to bathe."
Relief obvious in their smiles, the three younger elves turned toward the waterfalls, and the heated
bathing pools that sheltered near them. "Do not be late for dinner," Celeborn admonished, as they
hurried off. A wicked grin spreading across his face he called, "And for the love of Arda, bar the
door!"
"They forgot once," he said to Thranduil, in way of explanation. "It was near a week before my
eye stopped twitching."
Nodding sympathetically, the woodland ruler slipped one of his arms through Celeborn's, offering
the other to Erestor. As the three headed for the manor house-and their own bath- he began, "Did
I ever tell you of the time I stumbled over them in the Taur-na-Fuin caverns? I was minding my
own business, wishing only to bathe…"
*************************************
Celeborn settled into the steaming water gratefully, his grey eyes glowing like mithril in the dimly lit
chamber. He watched intently as Erestor moved about the room, stoking the small fire before
pouring three fresh mugs of mulled wine from the heavy kettle he had placed near the hearth.
Handing one cup to his friend, the chief advisor set the other two carefully on the edge of the
enormous tub, then turned to undress. "Where is Thranduil?" he asked curiously, dropping his
dark red robe carelessly on a bench, revealing his lightly muscled form with no sign of reluctance.
Celeborn did not answer immediately, his attention more than half taken by the sight of Erestor.
The advisor's skin was marble pale, made to look more so by the incredible curtain of blue-black
hair that spilled unbound down his back, the ends grazing the tops of his thighs. "Meldir?" the
dark elf prodded, one ebony eyebrow lifting questioningly.
The silver-haired elf shook his head as though to clear it, smiling in apology as Erestor stepped
into the tub. "I was distracted, I am afraid," he responded sheepishly. "Thranduil should be here
at any…"
"…moment," the woodland king finished cheerfully as he came into the bathing chamber. "I went
to my chambers to undress," he explained, slipping off his forest green robe to reveal a powerfully
muscled body. Where Erestor was pale, Thranduil was golden, from the rich burnished glow of
his hair to the creamy tone of his skin. Even his emerald green eyes were flecked with gold, like
those of some great cat, and golden rings gleamed in his pierced nipples.
Celeborn and Erestor watched in appreciative silence as the king entered the bath, lowering
himself to the seating ledge with a sigh. Meeting their approving gazes, he smiled slightly,
reaching for his mug of spiced wine. Though not vain, Thranduil was fully aware of his physical
appeal, and indeed had often used it to his advantage as a diplomat. It was a rare elf who could
deny the Mirkwood king when he set about charming his peers.
Talking amiably, the three elf-lords finished their drinks before turning to the business of bathing,
the rich scents of amber and ginger mingling in the steamy air. Discreet inquiring glances became
open looks of anticipation as memories of shared pleasures returned forcefully, and finally the
Mirkwood royal- never one to be coy- decided the touchless flirtation had gone on long enough.
Gathering Erestor's freshly washed hair in one hand, Thranduil moved the silken rope over his
friend's shoulder. "Give me your sponge, mellonen, and I will scrub your back," he offered with a
smile, his fingers already tracing light circles on the dark elf's skin.
Erestor met the woodland king's gaze soberly for a long moment, then the corners of his mouth
curved upward. "I would appreciate that very much, híren," he replied, his lyrical voice almost a
caress. "Very much, indeed."
Celeborn watched intently, the barest hint of a smile on his fair face, as the golden elf soaped and
rinsed the advisor's pale skin, then flicked his tongue over Erestor's bared neck, lapping up the
droplets of water.
"Will you not join me?" Thranduil asked, his rich voice a wicked purr, as he moved his mouth to
the dark elf's ear, suckling wetly at the flushed tip.
"In a moment," Celeborn answered, his grey eyes darkening to tarnished silver at the sound of
Erestor's increasingly breathless sighs. "'Tis quite fine viewing from here." Settling back against
the tub wall, the silver-haired elf watched quietly as the two figures seemed to meld, ebony hair
mingling with gold as the dark elf pressed back eagerly, his throat stretched in offering.
The king nipped and nuzzled the translucent skin, drawing a gasp of pleasure from his victim,
before claiming Erestor's lips in a fiery kiss. Tongues met and dueled in a struggle for dominance
that the advisor was more than happy to lose, and he groaned appreciatively as his mouth was
thoroughly explored.
Thranduil broke from the kiss and pulled Erestor snugly back against his own body, hissing aloud
at the feel of the dark elf's silken skin against his arousal. "It has been far too long," he murmured,
one large hand moving to cover his lover's engorged length, stroking lazily.
"Ai, yes…" Erestor panted, bucking into the teasing grip. Turning his enormous dark eyes on
Celeborn, he held out a hand in invitation. "'Tis warmer over here, mellonen," he managed
breathlessly, his words ending in a growl as Thranduil's hand slid across his chest, brushing the
peaked nipples.
Celeborn moved across the tub and settled himself in front of Erestor, dropping a rain on soft
kisses over the advisor's flushed face before capturing the swollen lips demandingly. The dark elf
whimpered, pulling Celeborn closer as an insistent tongue thrust repeatedly into his mouth, slick
and hot.
Thranduil swallowed hard at the erotic sight before him, then reached forward, using his powerful
arms to draw the silver elf up into Erestor's lap. Sliding his palms down Celeborn's back, he
cupped the smooth buttocks, his fingers kneading the hard muscles.
Yelping sharply, the Lórien elf arched forward, his throbbing member rubbing firmly against
Erestor's arousal. Celeborn closed his eyes for a moment, then reached down and wrapped his
hand loosely around both swollen shafts, causing the dark elf to groan helplessly as he rocked his
hips into the grasping hand. Catching the woodland king's gaze, he slowly slid the other hand
over the golden chest, twisting and tugging at the nipple rings.
Thranduil growled deep in his throat, leaning back his head as waves of sensation washed over
him. His aching erection twitched dangerously as it was jostled by Erestor's frantic movements,
his whole body tingling as the piercing rings shifted in his peaked nipples. Burrowing one hand
into Celeborn's silken hair, he pulled the silver elf into a forceful kiss, hard and demanding.
"Enough," the golden elf rasped as he broke the kiss, lifting himself to sit on the edge of the tub,
his back against the smooth marble wall. Erestor reached for a vial of bathing oil. His dark eyes
never leaving Thranduil's emerald gaze, he lavishly oiled the woodland king's arousal, then
handed the oil to Celeborn, silently asking the silver elf to prepare him.
Celeborn drew a shuddering breath, biting his lip as he quickly pressed oiled fingers into the
advisor's body, slicking and stretching the snug passage. Erestor turned and straddled the golden
elf's thighs, panting shallowly as he lowered himself onto his lover's hard flesh.
Thranduil leaned his head back, his eyes flickering closed as his member was sheathed in the
velvety heat, his nipples teased by the smooth skin of the dark elf's back. A strangled oath
brought his attention back to his surroundings, and he was unable to suppress a groan at the sight
that greeted him.
Celeborn stood on the tub's seating ledge, his weeping length a mere breath from Erestor's face.
Even as the king watched, entranced, the advisor's tongue flicked out, pink and wet, to swipe at
the glistening crown. The silver elf braced his arms on the wall, his breath harsh and rasping, as
his arousal was engulfed. Struggling to remain still, his knees trembled as Erestor's tongue traced
the pulsing vein firmly, and when a firm hand gripped his sac, rolling and tugging gently, he gave
up and began to thrust carefully into the wet warmth.
Grasping Erestor's hips tightly, Thranduil, too, fought to remain still, his hips rocking gently as he
watched the scene playing out before him. Celeborn's head was thrown back, his moonlit hair
hanging in streaming tendrils over his glistening body. Soft sounds of pleasure fell from his lips,
increasing in urgency as the dark elf sped up his ministrations, taking the straining shaft deep in
his throat. Suddenly the silver elf stiffened, his back arching sharply as he spilled with a hoarse
groan.
Erestor licked and nuzzled the softening length, then tugged his lover down into a warm kiss.
Celeborn melted into the kiss, shuddering as the smoky sweet flavor of his own seed flooded his
mouth. Pulling back, he lowered himself between the dark elf's thighs, swallowing Erestor's
engorged length in one swift movement.
The advisor let out a keening wail, struggling vainly to move as Thranduil began to thrust in
earnest, his strong hands anchoring his lover's hips. Caught securely between his lovers, Erestor
could do little more than whimper and moan as the hard rod stroked him inside and Celeborn's
lips and tongue stroked his aching erection. Their joint efforts pushed him ever closer to the edge,
until at last he erupted deep inside the caressing throat, his shout muffled against Thranduil's
neck.
The golden elf thrust hard once more, his own release milked from him by Erestor's spasming
passage. Gasping, the three elf-lords slid back into the now cooling water, staring at one another
bemusedly. His racing heart finally slowing, Erestor cocked one ebony eyebrow in amusement.
"'Tis one of the better ways of getting warm, I wager," he said with an uncharacteristic grin.
At that moment, chimes rang out. Celeborn met the advisor's gaze, and both burst into decidedly
un-regal laughter. "What is so amusing, mellynen?" Thranduil asked curiously.
Clear grey eyes sparkled with mirth as Celeborn answered his friend. "Those were the warning
chimes, híren. I fear we will be the ones late for dinner this day."
************************
Elvish translations:
mellonen - my friend
meldir - friend (male)
gwanûn - twins
mellynen - my friends
pen neth - young one
híren - my lord(s)
ernilen - my prince(s)
pin nith - young ones
Taur-na-Fuin - Mirkwood (wood of nightshade)
- 1
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Winter Pleasures