Tale of Two Brothers

Title: Tale of Two Brothers, 19/?
Author: Larien Elengasse
Type: FPS, M/M Slash
Pairing: Eln/Eln/Elrohir/Glorfindel, Erestor/Legolas
Rating: NC-17
Beta: Larian Elensar

WARNING: This story is rated NC-17 and contains male slash pairings, incest, and explicit sexual content. If you find this offensive, or you are under-age, I strongly suggest you stop now.

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they are the property of Tolkien, and I am sure he would be horrified if he read this…

Feedback: Yes please larienelengasse@yahoo.com

Summary/Notes: Glorfindel and Erestor depart for Mirkwood; Elladan and Elrohir do one of the things they do best, The Fellowship makes for Caradhras.


Erestor secured his pack to his horse, and checked a final time to see that he had everything he needed for his trip to Mirkwood. He patted the soft lump under his tunic that was the letter from Legolas to Thranduil. He was determined to personally deliver it, and after heated discussion with Lord Elrond, he was granted leave to go. It was a dangerous time to be traveling between the two realms, and it would be a long trip, as Redhorn Pass was nigh impassable with heavy snowfall. He would have to travel far to the south, rounding the southern most tip of the Misty Mountains, past Isengard, through the Gap of Rohan, then north along the banks of the Anduin to the Mountains of Mirkwood. He expected the journey to take several weeks and the return home would prove even more difficult as it would then be the middle of winter. It would also prove to be a perilous journey, as the path he was to travel was dangerous. He would be riding through the wilds of Eregion before passing through the Gap of Rohan, and close to Isengard and the traitorous Saruman; the journey north toward Mirkwood would be even more hazardous, as he would be passing Dol Guldur. He was to be accompanied by a few of Elrond’s soldiers and would be protected, and he could also defend himself, though it had been nearly an age since he had last borne arms.

He was dressed in winter riding clothes and a heavy cloak hung from his shoulders. He was armed with knives and a bow, with his quiver strapped to his back. He pulled his heavy gloves on, and prepared to lead his mount from the stable when he looked up to see Glorfindel, who was similarly dressed, standing in the doorway.

“Are you ready, meldir?” the seneschal asked.

Erestor’s eyes narrowed as he regarded his old friend. “What do you think you are doing, meldiramin?”

Glorfindel calmly answered, “I am escorting you, Counselor. What does it look like I am doing?”

Erestor furrowed his brow, “That is unnecessary, seneschal. Lord Elrond has provided an escort for me, you need not accompany us.”

Glorfindel shook his head, his strong arms crossed over his powerful chest, “I disagree, Counselor. I am in charge of our soldiers, and I decide where my soldiers are assigned. I am taking the place of the two assigned to you, as my skills will be better used in protecting you than remaining here.”

Erestor looked at the ceiling in exasperation, the thought of being alone with Glorfi for for more than a month was not appealing in the least. “Ai, Glorfindel, that is ridiculous, you and I both know that the safety of the realm of Imladris is more important than the safety of its Counselor.”

Glorfindel took a deep breath and answered, “I am not arguing with you, Erestor, this is not up for further discussion. Either yode wde with me, or not at all.” He waited for an answer from his friend, and when he received none, he smiled, “I will take your lack of response as agreement. Now, are you ready?”

Erestor grumbled under his breath and then answered, “Yes, I am ready. Shall we go?”

Glorfindel turned and walked out of the stable and mounted Asfaloth, and rode forth with his old friend.

* * * *

South of the Redhorn Pass, Eregion

Elrohir crouched behind a rock, as Elladan scrambled into a tree to get a better view of the approaching band of Orcs.

“How many are there, gwador?” He whispered quietly.

Elladan shielded his eyes and counted. “Fifteen, perhaps more. They do not sense we are here, they are moving in the shadow of the tree line, but making slow progress.” He climbed down and stayed low to the ground and crouched beside Elrohir. “Our best chance is to catch them unawares, force them into the daylight, then slaughter them there. We will need to keep our distance, there are too many for close combat.”

Elrohir nodded, “Do you think this is a coincidence, or do you think they are hunting for the Fellowship?”

Elladan furrowed his brow, “I do not believe this is a coincidence, I think the Ring calls them; they are headed directly into the path of our friends. I worry that the Nazgûl may be close, the Ring’s call is powerful.”

Elrohir nodded and whispered, “If they are, we will be hard pressed, gwador. Slaughtering Orcs is one thing, fighting Nazgûl is another.” He sighed, “I wish Glorfindel were with us, if we do run into The Nine, we will need his help.”

Elladan placed a comforting hand upon his brother’s shoulder. “Let us not worboutbout what we cannot foresee. Come, let us spill some black blood.”

Elrohir smiled, “Aye, to work…”

Elrohir took a position to the east of the advancing hoard of Orcs, as Elladan took one directly in their path. Each Peredhil took up a place on their horses, and began firing arrows into the approaching pack. The Orcs were driven from the shelter of the dense forest and into a bright sunlit meadow, followed closely by the Twins. Blinded by the bright sun, the Orcs were slow to respond and were easily picked off, one by one. Elladan and Elrohir who rode round them in circles, firing arrows from their galloping horses.

Elladan threw his sword, driving it through the chest of the last beast standing, as Elrohir began piling the carcasses to burn. They sat beside one another on a large rock, waiting for the fire to fully catch as Elladan cleaned his sword. Elrohir leaned back upon his hands, and sighed, “Ah, it felt good to slaughter the fell beasts again, do you not think so?”

Elladan chuckled, “Aye, I must admit, a small part of me has missed this. We fight so well together.”

Elrohir nodded and smiled, “Yes, we do. I hope Estel and the others fight as well. I fear the Hobbits will be of little help in that regard.”

Elladan sheathed his sword and leaned upon his brother’s shoulder. “As do I. Aragorn andomiromir are valiant warriors, and Legolas has felled more than his share of the black beasts in his life, between them they should stay safe.”

Elrohir’s eyes narrowed for a moment upon the mention of the Prince’s name, then he relaxed. “Having Mitdir dir along is very fortunate for them as well.”

Elladan nodded and sighed, “The sun will be setting soon. We should find shelter before it grows dark, in case there are more Orcs about.”

Elrohir nodded, and turned, pointing up the side of a steep hill. “There looks like as good a place as any. There is an outcropping of rock that will provide us with a windbreak, and the vantage point should be good from there.”

Elladan turned and looked in the direction his brother pointed. “Aye, that looks good. Shall I track down something for dinner?”

Elrohir nodded, “Yes, I will setup camp.”

The two brothers rose from their resting place upon the rock and went about their work.

* * * *

Legolas sat upon a rock, surveying the landscape below. Their journey had been turned back toward the north, after encountering the flock of Crebain on their passage south. They had made camp for the night before the long climb over Redhorn Pass. The Prince had traveled that road several times between hom home and the realm of Imladris, and he knew it would not be easy for the Men or the Hobbits. As he surveyed the landscape he saw a column of black smoke rising from the valley below. He rose to his feet and focused his keen eyes, and the hint of a smile crossed his face. Aragorn climbed up next to him and softly questioned, “What is it that you see, Legolas?”

“The work of the Sons of Elrond, Estel.” He pointed toward the column of smoke rising from the valley floor below them. “’Tis been many years since I have seen it. They must have come across some Orc tracking us from the south. Saruman will know they are afoot once again; they have left their mark upon his minions.”

Aragorn smiled, “Ah, ‘tis a good thing they are on our side, meldiramin. I would hate to go against such fierce warriors.”

Legolas smiled, “Aye, ‘tis true enough. I only wish we had the likes of them at home.” He looked at his friend, “They have been good and faithful brothers, have they not?”

Aragorn nodded, still smiling, “Aye, they have. I would bear arms with them any day.” He turned his gaze to that of the Elf’s, “As I wouldh yoh you, meldir.”

Legolas clapped him on the shoulder and smiled, “I fear we will do just that before the quest is through, Estel. This is a perilous road we travel.”

Aragorn’s expression grew serious, “That it is, my wise friend, and we are only at the beginning.”

Legolas smiled and leaned in, “I have faith in you, Estel, you will not fail, you will see the Kingdoms of Arnor and Gondor reunited, and we will see the destruction of the One Ring.”

Aragorn placed his hand upon the Elf’s and smiled, “I thank you for your confidence in me, Legolas. I will try not to fail you.”

* * * *

Erestor and Glorfindel made camp on the road south from Imladris. The warrior crouched beside the fire, warming his hands, as the Counselor sat upon his bedroll and leaned up against a fallen tree. Neither had done much talking since leaving Imladris; Erestor knew the warrior did not approve of this errand, thinking it folly. However, it was important that he honor his word to the Prince, and he did look forward to seeing his old friend, Thranduil. After several moments of silently watching the warrior, he finally spoke up.

“I smell smoke, and a foul stench upon the air.”

The warrior nodded and quietly replied, “’Tis the smell of death, Elladan and Elrohir have been at work. Smells like burning Orc carcass.”

After a long pause the Noldo continued, “You worry for them, do you not?”

Glorfindel took a deep breath, “Aye, I do worry for them. I know they handle themselves well enough in battle, but scouting for the Fellowship puts them in danger, The Nine may be close, and as good of warriors as they are, they are no match for the Nazgûl.”

Erestor closed his eyes and shuddered inwardly; he had the unfortunate experience of encountering the Nazgûl once before, and it was not something he would forget readily. The Nine were not the only perils he knew his lover faced; there would be Orcs, Uruk-hai, Wargs, and possibly even Balrogs. Manwë only knew what horrors Sauron had in store for those who defied him.

In all the years he had known his good friend, he had never asked about the Balrog, he had seen the look in Glorfindel’s eye when others did. He had often wondered why Mandos had sent the warrior back with that memory still intact, it seemed particularly cruel to him.

As if Glorfindel could read the Noldo’s thoughts he whispered quietly, “I doubt they will face Balrogs, Erestor. I do not believe there are any more in existence, thank the Valar. Though undoubtedly there will be evil enough to face, before this is through.”

Erestor rose from his place upon his bedroll and joined the warrior by the fire. He remarked how beautiful Glorfindel always was, even in times of dread and loss. The firelight made his golden tresses shine like the light of the sun, his sapphire eyes sparkled in the flickering light and his alabaster skin was luminescent in the glow. He felt an overwhelming urge to reach out and touch him, but he did not. Instead he quietly asked, “Do you fear death, meldir?”

Glorfindel looked up at the Counselor and smiled with a wisdom that only one who had been there could have, “Nay, I do not fear death. There are far worse fates than death, Erestor.”

Erestor’s voice was almost a whisper, “What do you fear, Glorfindel?”

The warrior closed his eyes and paused before answering, “Slavery, an eternity of torment at the hands of Sauron and his minions.” He turned his fiery gaze toward the Noldo; “I will go to my death before I allow that to happen, meldir, I will charge Sauron himself beforlet let them take me to Barad-dûr alive.”

Erestor nodded, “Aye, I would fall upon my own sword first, as would most of our kind, I believe.”

Glorfindel smiled gently, “Do not concern yourself with such things, Erestor. We will be victorious, and hopefully, you will not need to bear arms again. Though I know you will fight valiantly if need be, just as you did last time.”

Erestor nodded and looked at the warrior with a sad smile upon his face, “Will you fight beside me again, meldir?”

The Vanya smiled, “Aye, ‘twould be an honor.” He patted the Counselor on the back, “Now take some rest, meldir, we have a hard ride tomorrow.”

Erestor smiled kindly and crawled back to his bedroll, sliding inside and drawing his cloak around him.


To be continued…