36. Chapter 34
With Glorfindel and Orophin's arrival, the tide finally turned. Glorfindel was saddened when he saw the shadow form of Námo beside the body of a Mirkwood elf. The ancient warrior knew that it was not his fault, that he could not have expected there to be an attack; yet, his heart ached with the loss of life. Orophin embraced Haldir, glad his brother, once again, escaped unscathed. The same could not be said for the prince of Mirkwood. Elrohir knelt at his side, trying to stanch the bleeding. There was a long slash across Legolas' back and already the edges darkened from poison. Looking up, the younger twin made eye contact with his Captain; the message was clear.
"Come," Glorfindel called out. "We must reach Elrond as soon as possible! Lay the dead across their horses and mount up." No one thought to argue. Those injured that could ride alone, did so, leaving others to ride with the more severely wounded. Legolas was carefully hoisted up to sit in front of Glorfindel. "We ride straight through. If you must stop, make sure there is at least on able elf with you." With that, he bolted forward.
Maglor dressed with little enthusiasm and he decided to skip breakfast. His stomach was in knots. Ever since Lindir and he began sharing a bed, neither ever left without waking the other, usually in the most pleasurable of ways! Maglor glanced at his reflection in the mirror as he left the room. Elves might be immortal, but he certainly did not look, or feel, as young as he once had. The queasy feeling he had upon waking got stronger. Perhaps the young elf finally saw Maglor for what he was…an *old* elf.
The Noldorian prince first stopped at Elrond's office and then proceeded to Erestor's. Neither had seen Lindir that morning.
"I would not worry," the advisor said, looking up from his scroll. "He is probably with the other bards, preparing for the welcoming feast. Lindir and Legolas developed a close friendship some time ago. He is probably just absent minded in his excitement."
Maglor tried to hide the hurt in his eyes as he ducked out the door. Absent minded? How could you forget about a body next to you? The ancient elf began to think about Lindir's relationship with the Mirkwood prince. Slowly, he made his way to the Hall of Fire. Stopping at the entrance, Maglor took a calming breath and schooled his expression. He was probably overreacting.
Lindir sat with the other minstrels, working out which songs would be done and when. When the young bard noticed Maglor, he jumped to his feet and ran to his lover. "Is it not wonderful?" he asked pulling Maglor along by the hand. "Legolas will be here in a couple of days. I cannot wait to see him. I have really missed him." Lindir pulled Maglor down to sit beside him.
"We used to take walks after I finished in the Hall and would talk till dawn." Here the silver haired elf actually sighed. He then turned his full attention to the music.
"I am going to see how Maedhros fairs," the Noldo said.
"Alright." Lindir barely acknowledged the other elf. Maglor slowly stood and exited the hall without another word. Lindir always greeted him with a kiss, even just a chaste one on the cheek. Not today, though. He did not even look up when the dark haired elf left. Maglor suddenly had a desperate need for his older brother. Slowly he walked toward the forge. He quietly sat on a stool and just watched the burgundy haired elf work. Maedhros had the same grace with a hammer and anvil as their father did. It cheered Maglor's heart a bit to see his brother content.
"What troubles you, little brother?" the tall elf asked, setting the iron back into the flame.
"What makes you think I am troubled? Can an elf not simply visit with his own kin?"
Maedhros pumped the bellows then turned to Maglor. "I know you, penneth. Something has upset you and I am going to go out on a limb and say it is a certain little song bird."
Maglor chuckled softly. "I never could hide anything from you."
"I know. Who do you think detoured father when *someone* was getting his first taste of, well, adult pleasure in the shed?"
"How did you know I was, I mean that…oh Mandos…Why?"
"Because I love you and father would have skinned both of you. I did not like your choice of partner, but I did not want your first time to be overshadowed by our father's tirade. Now, what has happened?"
"Nothing," Maglor said simply. Maedhros pulled out the iron and began hammering it. He knew that it would take a while for the younger elf to continue. Suddenly the ebony haired elf stood. "Never mind. It really was nothing now that I think about it," he said with false cheer. "I will see you later." With what he hoped was a happy looking smile, he took his leave. Cinnamon colored eyes followed the retreating form. "Nothing, my arse."
Elladan and Rúmil set some stones in a circle and got a fire started. The dark haired elf divested himself of his shirt and laid it over a stone near the fire pit. He turned back to Rúmil to find the younger elf bent over, situating his bedroll. Elladan felt his heart rate increase at the sight. It took all his will power to stop his mind from wandering; he really did not want to explain a bulge in his leggings. "Here, throw me your shirt," he called to the other elf.
Rúmil stood up and turned to reply, but found his voice had abandoned him. Before him stood the most perfect elven physique he had ever seen. Elladan's chest was smooth and sculpted and his shoulders indicated his weapon of choice was a sword. As he absent-mindedly unlaced the top of his own shirt, Rúmil could not help but notice how low Elladan's pants sat on his hips, showing off a rippled abdomen and narrow hips. His gaping ended as he pulled his own shirt over his head, a sudden flash of insecurity rushing through his body. The Lórien elf was built like an archer and runner…long and lean. While his muscles were defined, they lacked the mass that Elladan had. He tossed his shirt to the waiting elf and quickly turned away, busying himself with his bedroll.
Elladan looked at the other elf with much appreciation. Rúmil's body appeared to be as beautiful as his face. The older twin knew that he could have the younger elf if he wanted, it was clear Rúmil was interested. Elladan had had his share of conquests and knew the same was true of Rúmil, however he did not want a conquest. Being able to bed anyone without a relationship was getting old fast. He wondered if Rúmil was looking for a night of passion or more.
Unable to avoid his companion, Rúmil came to the fire. He stood near the flames, soaking up the warmth they offered. He might have shed his wet shirt, but his leggings were still dripping. With anyone else, he would have removed them as well and basked in the fire's warmth in only his loincloth. His desire for Elladan made that impossible.
As if reading his mind, the dark haired elf began to unlace his leggings. Rúmil thought it was the most erotic sight he had ever seen. "I think you will find you will warm up faster if you remove your wet leggings. By the fire, they should be dry by morning."
Rúmil undid his leggings, never taking his eyes off Elladan's very long and muscular legs. Elladan could not help but see the desire in the other's eyes. He had to admit that he felt the same. He would have become hard if his extremities were not so cold. Rúmil quickly sat and stared into the fire.
"I have provisions in my pack for supper. Nothing fancy, just some smoked fish, cheese and bread. If we are lucky, cook might have added some tarts for dessert. 'Although I know what I want for dessert' he mentally added.
"If you check my pack," Rúmil called over, "You will find something more tasty than water." He looked over at the twin and smirked. Elladan pulled out two bottles of wine.
"Are you trying to get me drunk?" Elladan asked, feigning concern.
"Would I have to?" The words left Rúmil's mouth before he could stop them. He quickly looked back to the fire.
Elladan gathered the food items and returned to the fire, sitting right next to the blushing elf…so close that their shoulders brushed. Setting the food and wine to the side, the older elf answered, "No."
Rúmil glanced to the side, perplexed, "No what?"
Elladan smiled as he moved slowly towards the waiting lips. "No, you would not have to get me drunk." With that, he let his lips brush against Rúmil's. The younger elf's lips were soft and warm, quite willing to allow Elladan to deepen the kiss.
When they were in need of air, they pulled apart slightly. Looking into the dark depths of Elladan's eyes, Rúmil lifted his hand and caressed the older elf's cheek as he leaned in for another kiss. He would probably be in trouble when Haldir found out he made out with the Lady's grandson. At that point in time, however, he really did not care. All he cared about was the wonderful sensation coursing through his body.
"I want you," Elladan whispered as he nibbled Rúmil's bottom lip. Pulling back he said seriously, "But not for only one night."
"As many nights as you desire," the Silvan elf answered softly.
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.