A Gift of Love

CHAPTER 17
Uncertainties and Reassurances

And so it is that the announcement is made on the conception of our child. Elladan standing by my side, his hands obstensively behind his back, yet so close to mine. I would have that he hold it tight as he often does when there is but the two of us, yet we both hold back this day. Elladan watches the assembly, noting perhaps those who he had overheard and who had been chastised so kindly. Perhaps looking for our unnamed champion. If he finds either he does not say. Instead he stands silent and rigid, the anxiety flowing through every vein. I can think only on the night past, how I had asked and he had come to me smiling and willing, though professing now the lack of need. I can recall only as Ada’s words become distant how he had made my body ache for him, how his lips had felt as he caressed my skin. Can only dwell on the exquisite pained pleasure of him moving inside me, and the cries when he delved deep and hard.

I am aware then that Ada too is silent. I glance to Elladan who stares at nothing in the distance until he feels my gaze on him. He turns then to me and graces me with a smile that I would beg for if it did not so often be bestowed on me. Only then do I notice the others. And hear them. Hushed whispers. There are those who nod their heads sagely, as if they had been told what they knew of already, some who stare at us in shock, disbelieving what their lord has told them. And there are those who shake their heads. I do take Elladan’s hand in mine.

“There will always be those who do not understand, we have known that from the beginning,” I tell my brother in a whisper,” it matters little, and you cannot fight all of them to change their minds.” His hand tightens on mine. “They will say little when we are about, they will not risk the ire of their lord in this.”

“I would have them say naught, to us or nay,” Elladan replies, but I know he can see the dream in this. It will be enough that they keep their tongues when we are present.

I am heartened by the number who come to us as the last words are uttered for safe deliverance. Those who would be our allies. Elladan too seems more at ease that there is some measure of acceptance.

We ride again within weeks. My brother labours hard against my going, using Gandalf’s words of caution. I am just as strident in my words to him.

“We will be gone weeks,” he says finally.

“All the more reason for me to be with you. I would not be parted from you for so long a time.” I kiss his neck to remind him of what he will miss from me should he venture alone.

He cups my face in his hands.

“Nor would I be willingly parted from you,” he murmurs, knowing his argument is lost.

So we ride together once more. There are those who watch, none as closely as my brother. I feel his anxiety keenly and am troubled by it.

The first batch of dark creatures is dispatched swiftly. We pull the bodies into a heap as we have always done but as the fires are lit my stomach lurches at the stench as it has not done since our first hunt. I move away from sight as the bile rises in my throat. I would not have Elladan see this. Upon my return the fires are lower and I stand away from the wind that drives the smoke.

It is not a reaction I had expected. I look to Elladan who is engaging in some conversation and am thankful he has not witnessed my abrupt departure and return. My hand rests on my stomach as I try in some way to be assured all is well. Another wave of nausea hits me, I sway a little but catch and steady myself. As I do I feel the eyes of one on me, one who is not my brother. I look searching. I cannot see his face but I know that it is he who watches me behind the hood he tugs over his face. I frown to recognize him, but cannot recall a name nor even from whence he would have come. Strangely I cannot tell if he is elf or mortal. I look to Elladan who turns now to me, aware of my attention. He smiles as only he can, a flood of desire courses through me at the sparkle in his eyes. When I look back to my erstwhile watcher he is gone.

Elladan strides over to me, our only contact his hand on my shoulder as he searches my face.

“You are well?” he asks in concern.

I nod the lie as his head tilts and brow furrows. He will not press me but he knows the truth for what it is. There is very little we can hide from each other we know that and we have sworn to have no secrets. Yet I refrain from speaking of this.

“The food perhaps?” Elladan offers.

I nod once more. We have eaten stuffs that have not filled our stomachs in many months though none is new to us. I will let it rest at that, it is as suitable an explanation as any.

We continue, the pace set relentless for those we track rarely rest, driven by unseen hands. The darkness lingers about them even if their master is hidden. We kill and kill again, at times I wonder at the futility of it, wishing we could halt, yet always there are more. And I cannot stop my body reacting to the stench.

I stand leaning heavily against the tree when I hear the familiar soft steps of my brother. I move away from the welcome support of the sturdy trunk, straighten and brush down my clothing.

“Elrohir, “ he whispers, “’tis not the food this time. I have watched you take your leave at each lighting of the fires.”

“”Tis nothing,’ I reply, my fingers digging into my palms to block out the pain of the lie I tell. I look away. We have been on this road not long past. We renewed our vow for nothing secret between us, and yet I am again violating that, and to what end? So Elladan does not feel any the less of me? In the hopes he will not see what his keen eyes and heart would know without the telling?

For the first time since we began, it is I who fear. Fear losing what we have fought so hard to gain, fear what I may become. And it is fear that has me walk away instead of to my brother. Fear that shrugs his hand away from my shoulder. And has me turn when he whispers my name.

“Leave me be, Elladan,” I say, my voice and words harsh even to my ears, all the time not wanting him to go. All the time wishing he would step closer and hold me to banish this uncertainty. But he does not and I cannot move to him. He gazes at me, shakes his head and obeys my words even as my heart calls him back to me.

When I return to the peaceful fires of the camp Elladan sits staring at the flames. I stand in the shadows of the flickering flames watching him, feeling his melancholy surround him. Though the words between us were few, they were hard spoken, so unlike what passes between us. It has not dimmed our love for naught would do that. It has shaken Elladan, one does not have to be brother-lover to see the way he pulls his cloak tight around him.

I am lost in the contemplation of my brother, marveling at his beauty and his love for me, chiding myself for hiding from him.

I do not hear the footsteps behind me, nor feel the presence of another. The sound of his voice has my hand on my sword.

“Go to him,” is the murmur, barely audible.

I do not turn to see who commands me so for such would be unwelcome. There is a comfort in his presence, a soothing of my fears.

“There is nothing to fear, from him nor from you. Remain true to each other.” A hand is laid softly on my shoulder. “What is happening is not to be feared.”

I do not have to ask of what he speaks, nor explanation of his words. I feel the truth of them, know within me he speaks not only to ease my fears but to give me strength. To give the reassurance that I seek that all is well.

The hand is withdrawn but I do not hear the retreating footsteps, only the whisper of his words.

“Go to him, he needs you as you need him, tell him all is as it should be.”

With faith renewed I nod my head, walking slowly to my brother. He does not look to me, staring still at the flames. My heart falters as the sight, as the words anew are carried by the breeze. My brother needs me as I need him.

“Elladan.”

Still he looks at the shimmer of the fire. For what seems an age we sit together. Then his hand seeks mine and his fingers curl over mine. He turns to me with a pale echo of a smile. I turn my hand to hold his in mine.

“All is well,” I tell him and his smile widens, the relief clear. “I did not….”

“Hush brother, it matters not now.”

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I feel the sense of peace return to Elrohir. I will not question from whence it came any more than I will question the cause. It is enough for me that I no longer feel the turmoil within him and I will wait until he is ready to tell.

Weeks pass, slip by unnoticed but for the change in the length of days and the steady melting of the snow that fills the streams around us. These days of early spring have brought less disharmony to Elrohir and he no longer flees the fires that we light to purify the land of evil.

I watch him now as he directs our next move, drawing lines in the loose earth with the end of the stick. Indicating this way and that of our attack. He looks up to me and smiles. I grin back. This is where my brother delights, in the planning and the strategy. He was forever the one plotting as elflings, always his quick mind would see possibilities others could not. I am flushed with pride at the way the men in our midst look at him in awe. After it will be my turn to deploy the company to take them into battle. He says I can plan as well as he and I counter that he could lead also, but it is to our own that we defer. I do not revel as he does in the plans, for me the time is holding a sword in my hand.

I cannot help but wonder on the time when it will not be possible for him to ride by my side. My vows will compel me to go forth, on that there will be little choice, though I know with more certainty that they will last days not weeks or months. I cannot bear to be apart from him, less so when the time comes for our child. Less so still when I am able to hold the child in my arms.

Elrohir looks up again to me. He feels what I am thinking and the look in his eyes tells me beyond words how he loves me. This night we will take our time away from the camp and be together.

The enemy are easily routed, no match for Elrohir’s strategy and the determination of those around us to rid their homelands of the threat. For us there are few who need attending to. Elrohir looks with concern at the blood on my arm, the result of a careless moment when I looked to him and did not attend to my own fight as I should. I know he thinks me over attentive to him, but I cannot turn away from it. Concern has always been there, as it has been for him to me, it is no more or no less now, he merely notices more and I hide it less. I have always feared losing him each time we ride. He is as skilled as I, trained long and hard by those who would protect us both. Yet it is the unknown now, the not knowing if the balance that comes with acute awareness of a warrior’s body is awry with what Elrohir now carries within him.

With the night all the fears are washed away as he comes to me with the moonlight bathing him in a silver light. His dark hair gleams, his body sways gracefully as he steps. There is a smile on his lips as I open my arms to him. I hold him close, feeling the warmth of him through the clothing he wears. Slowly we part as he takes my hand in his and leads us further into the woods, away from the camp where the fires are already being lit. We will go where we will be safe from others who may wish privacy also for their trysts, where we can give full vent to our feelings.

“I long for you,” my brother whispers.

I have longed for him also, even as I had watched him in battle my body had ached to touch the curve of his body. He is like the paintings of the elves of old, graceful and deadly, sword glistening as it catches the sun, dark hair flying with each thrust and parry. He touches my arm, frowning as I flinch a little.

“It heals,” I say simply, drawing him close once more. I have no desire to be chided on my carelessness this night. My desire lies elsewhere as my eyes trail over my brother’s body.

He reaches to me caressing my cheek while his other hand works at loosening my clothing. I bring my hands to what he wears and soon we are standing naked before each other, clothes cast to the ground, boots stepped out of. My hand now runs over his chest and stomach. It matters not what the future will bring, he will always be the one I cherish and desire above all others. My hand rests on his stomach and again I fancy I hear a voice whisper to me that all will be well. I smile. I am learning to accept these reassurances though I will never feel totally at ease until I hold the child in my arms and my brother is safe.

Elrohir has spread his cloak over the ground, gently now drawing us to it. He lies, his hair falling about him in waves of ebony, his arms open to welcome me into their embrace. The gesture is soft and loving, but as I lie to be with him his legs part to enclose my body, his long legs wrapping around my thighs. He has made his demand plain and I will obey him.

I press my body to his, flexing my hips to rub our hard groins together. His hands slide over my back, nails gazing over sensitive skin. It seems my brother is in no mood for play and is as anxious as I am for us to join.

“I want you,” he breathes as if there may be doubt in my mind. I smile at him as I kneel in the space he has created, his legs around my waist pulling me to him. His hand reaches to me, caressing and stroking in a way that draws a hiss from my lips.

“Gladly,” I reply as my first thrust enters his body deep, and he moans into the still night air.

It is not long before our bodies are moving as one, perfect harmony borne of love and desire. Each deep delving into his smooth heat is met by his arching body, his hands across my arms, his legs fierce tight holding. drawing me ever deeper into him. There is no control, only instinct and need driving us to ultimate pleasure. We moan each other’s names to each other, breathlessly murmuring out love for each other only, pledging eternal devotion that we know will not be broken. When release comes upon me, I join Elrohir with clasped hands around his own length. Together we silently scream, my mouth on his hard.

I draw the cloak around us as we lie panting, our heated bodies feeling a chill in the warm air. We will stay here, enfolded in each other’s embrace watching the stars move in the inky sky above us.

“I would that the night sky herald the birth,” my brother whispers contentedly beside me, “I would have the blessing of Eärendil.” I turn, knowing the smile that lights my eyes.

“’Tis what I would wish also.”

We dress in the early dawn light, we have spent the night with only each other and none who know us will begrudge us that small thing. There will be few who will make comment as many will have taken comfort in their own loves as we have done. There will be more days of questing to come before we part company with the brethren, before we ride home. I will be ready to take my brother home.