1. Brotherly Love
PG. What? How could a 'slash fic' have anything less than an adult rating? Well, read and see.
This is a slash/parody, slash/humor, slash/OOC, slash/slash, just-for-fun feel-good fic. It features Elrohir, Elladan, a female Elf who will remain nameless, and of course, a memorably sexy cameo by a semi-unclad Elrond. It is a spoof, if you will: satire. You will recognize the style and premise as comparable to any old slash fic to be found at any old archive. Until the end.
He awoke to the distinct ringing of Elven giggles, like clear water churning over tiny pebbles, and groaned in the un-elvish fashion of his Edain predecessors.
Normally, Elrohir did not mind when his twin stole away in his bed. But when the sometimes-incorrigible first son of Elrond brought a guest into his brother's bed, Elrohir could be sure a restless night was ahead.
For which he was simply not in the mood, this eve. "Elladan," he moaned tiredly. More giggles sounded and someone began tickling his foot. Elrohir kicked them, whoever it was. "Elladan!" he hissed.
"Yesss?" purred a reply. "And what can I do for you, dear brother of mine?"
Elrohir smacked his twin's hand away from fiddling in his hair. "Take your playmate and be gone from my bed. I wish to sleep."
Elladan was not discouraged. "Ohhh..." he cooed. "That is as you always say." He slid out from under a still-giggling Elven-maid and laid shoulder to shoulder with his twin, staring with him up at the ceiling. "And yet I always remain. Now why is that, do you suppose, hmm?" He idly poked his brother at random places in order to keep him awake while he spoke.
Now desperate, Elrohir whined. "Elladan, have pity, I beg you; let me sleep."
Elladan ignored the plea. "Well, I think it is because you are repressed."
Elrohir bristled, and not from the particularly savage jab to his side. "I am no such thing." A pinch on his rump awarded his tormentor with a loud slap on the stomach. "By the Valar, Elladan, but you are being intolerable! Now please, stop bothering me and go back to your own bed."
With a calculated pout, Elladan said, "You are sure you will not join us?" A feminine pair of especially delicate Elven hands snaked across his bare chest, long and slender fingers walking enticingly down towards his stomach, causing Elladan to whimper in anticipation.
But his brother was not impressed by the display. "No," he bit off curtly.
On his normally aristocratic but presently licentious face, Elladan assumed a knowing expression. "Ooooh... so you mean to watch, do you, you naughty, naughty Elf-man!" As he leered, well-defined eyebrows arched in carnal delight.
Elrohir huffed. "No." He flipped on his side, pulling a silken sheet well up to his chin.
Being thus turned, he did not witness the genuinely wounded look consume his brother's eyes. "But--"
"Oh, for the love of--" Elrohir snapped, "If you refuse to leave, at least finish with each other and be done already so I may have some peace and rest before dawn."
It was as close to shouting as the youngest son of Elrond had ever come, and certainly a first time tone to take towards his beloved twin.
Elladan, though thicker-skinned than his brother ever since birth, was nevertheless on the verge of tears. With nothing more than a pleading and apologetic glance, his female companion gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, and nodded her understanding. She had a sister herself, after all. Immediately she slipped from the bed without a sound, and just as swiftly left the room.
Elrohir, not caring how or why the sudden silence came about, was already fast asleep. Until his brother's clear and strong voice shattered the quiet. "It is something I have done." It was a statement more than a question.
Elrohir growled, grumpy beyond reason. "Finished so soon?" he asked, embittered. "But then, how unlike you it would be indeed to make anything worthwhile last longer than a heartbeat."
Elladan shivered away as if burnt. "Why be you so cruel to me?"
Elrohir whirled. "Because I wish to sleep, you dimwitted Half-man, and you will not let me!" He shook his brother forcefully, stressing each word with care.
Elladan did not struggle, instead falling instantly into shame. "It is something I have done!"
Snarling in aggravation, Elrohir abandoned his effort to shake sense into his twin, shoving his brother away like a broken toy. "Yes! You have woken me from a very deep, very lovely and much-deserved slumber. Twice." He flopped over again. "I advice you not repeat yourself a third time, lest I take it upon myself to remove you from my bed manually."
Elladan shook his head, now deep in thought. "No... no, it is something else... not something I have done..."
Elrohir yanked a pillow out from under his delicately pointed ear, and commenced smothering himself with it.
"Something... that I have not done!" Elladan concluded triumphantly. "Brother, though I am loath to admit it, I do believe I have been neglecting you." He trailed his fingers over his brother's side, tickling him with prowess. "That is what be this matter with you, is it not?" Smirked as his fingers worked their magic, he chirped provokingly, "Tic-ticky, tic-tic, tickity-tic!"
Elrohir was nearly blue in the face, and not with suppressed laughter; though his unnatural hue was hidden from view by the luxurious feather pillow crushing his entire head.
"We must engage with each other, then, Elladan went on. "Only you and I, just the two of us, as we used to do when we were nigh but children, when we were certain no one would hear or discover, before we ever invited any other to join us, when the game was still new and the players so very young, so very-"
"Ahhhrgh!" Elrohir pounced menacingly on top of his twin, ruthlessly pummeling him with his pillow, which had simply not been rendering him unconscious quickly enough. "Shut your mouth!" Smack. "Be thee quiet!" Whack. "Speak no more!" Thwap. "Hold thy tongue!" Pow. "Let me sleep!" Bomp. "Silence! Silence! Silence! Ahhhhrgh!" he bellowed in madness.
"Aaaaiiiiii!" his poor brother echoed in terror.
Momentarily the bedroom door burst open in the wake of a mighty Lord, wreathed in an aura of dangerous fury, looking terrible and deadly in only silken sleeping pants and a broad Elven war-blade.
"What goes on here?" the Lord of Imladris demanded as he deftly moved to the balcony doorway, thus peering out, then inspecting behind the curtains. Upon finding no evil lurking about, and sensing none regardless, he turned his potent attention back to his sons upon the bed, frozen as they were in alternate positions of infuriated attack and horrified defense.
"Bless the Valar...!" Elrond gasped in a mixture of relief and bafflement. "I thought you two besieged by things most wicked, judging by the desperate cries coming from this room." Concern was clear as a battle call in the great Half-elf's melodious voice, but his eyes were ever unshaken.
When his sons remained motionless and quiet under his gaze, he implored them sternly with firm words, "Speak, my sons, for I would have an explanation for my presence." And my gratuitous anxiety attack, Imladris' Lord did not say.
Both jumped, and organized themselves in more dignified positions. Elrohir cleared his throat, hoarse now from his previous shouting. "We were--" he began, but faltered.
"Just... playing?" Elladan finished with questionable certainty.
Elrond eyed them in doubt. The twins squirmed uncomfortably under the scrutinizing gaze of their awe-inspiring sire, but offered nothing more than the tenuous 'explanation' already given.
Elrond seemed to come to some sort of agreement with himself. "Very well," he said at length. "But come morning, you shall both apologize sincerely to all those in my House for creating such an alarming disturbance at this inconsiderate hour."
To say nothing of the finely crafted Elven sword in his hand, the twins knew better than to dispute that particular Tone of their Lord's; but never did the notion occur to them regardless. "Yes, father," both answered graciously and bowed their heads in respect.
Elrond nodded once in approval and left silently on bare feet, seeming as dignified and serene as if wearing the most formal of dress and regalia.
The twins held their breath until he had gone, after which an awkward silence followed.
"Why did you not tell father of my inexcusable behavior?" Elrohir asked softly, his foul mood forgotten or adjusted.
“Because I am equally at fault. It was my neglect which brought this upon us both.”
"Ah." Elrohir was abashed by his brother’s selflessness. "Well, it really was not so extreme as you make it sound."
"Well, it was enough that you tried to slay me for it." Elladan grimaced at the taste of a feather that found its way into his mouth, removing it along with one in his ear.
"Yes, I suppose. But perhaps I overreacted a bit as well." Elrohir looked sheepishly at his twin. "I am sorry, Elladan. It was immature of me, but... I admit that I was made jealous. That maiden you brought... well, she looked so strong, and I just felt inadequate." He hung his head. "I am truly sorry."
"Oh, Elrohir," Elladan gently brushed disheveled hair behind his brother's ear. "Against you, none other could ever compare. I only choose the strong ones so that the thrill is more intense for us all."
Elrohir blushed pink and Elladan continued, leaning closer to whisper in his brother's ear. "And you do enjoy the thrill of it, do you not?" Elladan walked his fingers across his brother's thigh, in much the same way as his female guest had teased him earlier.
Playfully, his brother slapped the hand away. "Oh, do quit that- lest I never sleep again for my unquenched desire!" He laughed shyly.
Elladan raised an eyebrow in query. "Oh, is that so?" He leaned even closer, his lips nearly touching the sensitive tip of his twin's ear, and whispered urgently, "I still want to. My offer ever stands; just you and I; as it should be, as it has always been best."
"We... we do not have to." Elrohir shuddered in budding anticipation. His heart had not slowed from the exertion of a moment ago.
Elladan laughed low in his throat. "Are you saying that you will be able to sleep now that I have tempted you so?" He let his hand rest on his brother’s shoulder, feeling the flesh heated and barely damp, the muscles taut underneath, eager.
Shivering giddily, Elrohir giggled. "No, I wager that I cannot."
"Then I insist. Let us say that this will make our amends to one another for any and all past grievances."
Elrohir had to avert his eyes for embarrassment. "Oh- all right; if you insist." He was nearly crimson in the highest spot of his cheeks. "But you must start us off." He flustered, wringing his hands in impatience. "You know I become too anxious in the beginning to do aught right."
Elladan grinned wolfishly. "I know. Though not for long, brother. Your confidence grows, as does your skill-"
"Enough with your flattering of me, or we shall never get on with it if I cannot concentrate at all," Elrohir gently chided, striving for self-control.
Through tormenting his younger sibling, Elladan shrugged in resignation. "I was only making an observation," he said. He stood casually up from the bed, poising himself before his seated twin. "Are you ready?"
Elrohir took a deep breath. "As ready as I will ever be."
Taking a deep breath for himself, Elladan nodded once, and then tapped his brother meaningfully. "Tag," he uttered, and was off.
In an explosion of energy and bordering on neurotic anticipation, Elrohir gave chase. He loved this game more than his own life. But some things between brothers... are far too sacred to share.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.