Princes Three: Any Shelter

Interlude II

~Mirkwood 2151~

“Legolas wished to take you, did he not?”

Elrohir’s hands stilled, fingers gripping the arrow he had been fletching. “I do not know that to be true,” he replied evasively, eyes fixed on the golden brown plumes that littered the grass. The meager supply of blue and grey feathers from Imladris had been long since depleted.

“I believe that you do, tôren,” Elladan replied calmly, dropping to the ground beside his brother. Pushing back an ebony braid, the elder twin traced the darkly bruised bite mark that marred Elrohir’s throat. “You refused him.”

“He did not ask,” the elf-knight corrected, at last meeting his twin’s steady gaze.

“Nay, I do not suppose that he would,” Elladan sighed. “The depth of his understanding oft astounds me. He slips so easily into the strands of our bond...”

“I am yours first, ‘Dan,” Elrohir said suddenly, his eyes wide and dark, as though beholding some unknown threat. “I will always be yours.”

As I will always be yours, rohir nín.

His inexplicable fear eased somewhat by the familiar brush of Elladan’s thoughts, the elf-knight drew a deep breath and pushed away the unfinished arrow, twining his fingers with those of his brother.

The elder twin tightened his grip for a moment, then leaned back against the massive trunk of the tree that sheltered them and opened his legs, looking at his companion questioningly.

It was all the invitation Elrohir required. Moving to sit in the offered space, the elf-knight leaned back against his brother’s chest, sighing with contentment as two arms wrapped him snugly and Elladan’s chin settled against his hair.

Thus had they comforted one another as long as either could remember, and Elrohir relaxed into the warm embrace, the last vestiges of anxiety soothed away by the scent and touch of his twin.

Elladan was silent for a long moment, his fingers twisting one mithril-sparked braid idly. “’Las would never wish to come between us, ‘Roh,” he chided mildly. “And did he so desire, he could not. You have allowed tension to overcome your reason.”

“Aye, ‘tis likely that I have,” the elf-knight agreed finally, snuggling deeper in his lover’s arms.

The elder twin rubbed his cheek against the midnight-dark hair, reassuring himself as much as his companion. There had been little time for even such chaste cuddling since the spring, and now it seemed as if their world shifted and shook around them. “Did you wish to submit, tôren?” Elladan asked at last.

“I...I was tempted,” Elrohir admitted, tilting his head to meet his brother’s eyes. “But I was loath to do so without your blessing.” A grimace crossed the elf-knight’s face as he added, “And I was anxious, too, I am ashamed to say. You have always been there, el nín. A part of me fears such surrender without the anchor of your presence.”

“Shall I watch from the balcony then, melethen?” Elladan teased gently, his arms tightening in a show of comfort that belied his light words.

Elrohir snorted in mock affront, and the elder twin chuckled, dropping a kiss on his brother’s nose before he continued, his voice sobering. “’Tis your decision to make, tôr dithen. I would not be hurt or angered, and ‘Las is worthy of such trust. Mayhap you will know when the time is right.”

“Will the time ever be right for you, ‘Dan?” the elf-knight asked quietly, his fingers repeatedly mapping the muscles of one strong arm.

“I do not know,” Elladan replied haltingly. “I have already surrendered much to him, in...”

“...in yielding while we are all together,” Elrohir finished with a nod. “I know. And Legolas understands what he has been gifted with, as well.”

The elder twin shook his head. “If ‘twas a gift, then it was freely given. I did not mean to sound pompous. The greater trust was in allowing him to witness our fusing, and he did not fail us then.” Elladan inhaled deeply. “I suppose I am reluctant to truly relinquish control, save to you, rohir nín.”

“’Tis not a weakness, tôren,” Elrohir said earnestly. “’Tis simply your nature, as it has always been. You cannot change it, and I would not have you try. Nor would ‘Las, I wager.”

Elladan arched one eyebrow skeptically, and the elf-knight broke into a cheeky grin.

“Our wood-elf speaks highly of your skill with a leather sash.”

TBC...

tôren – my brother

rohir nín – my knight

el nín – my star

melethen – my love

tôr dithen – little brother