A Feast of the Senses

Author’s Note: First, I have a story to recommend. If you enjoy Legolas slash, please go read “Cuthenin Truebow” by F.E.Morton. Beautifully written, well-researched, thoughtfully constructed -- oh and HOT too! You’ll find the link in my Faves List. Go! Look! Read! Review!

Meanwhile, this chapter is dedicated to JastaElf and to all those others who enjoy the notion of a “Noldor Sandwich”! I’d also like to offer it as a little prezzie to Jay of Lasgalen on this, her birthing day anniversary. (Jay, I know this is a little toastier than you normally prefer, but heartfelt good wishes all the same! I hope you’ll enjoy!)

This escapade is actually rather long; so much for the quick little PWP this installment initially set out to be. But that’s how these characters wanted it -- drawn out, at length (if you know what I mean). Further, I know it’s nonsensical in many a respect, but the goal here was a little titillation, not a Pulitzer. The rating now goes to NC-17. So feast away! Or maybe I should say, smut away! Heck, so long as slash is your thing, ENJOY!

A Feast of the Senses
Chapter Two: Taste of Honey
By Anarien

“Now try this one,” Elrohir said as he dipped his index finger into the sticky confection. Legolas leaned forward to catch the sweet syrup that dripped from the dark-haired elf’s nectar-coated digit. Lips curved in a gracious smile as they sucked the tasteful goodness with earnestness. Elrohir noted how Legolas’ tongue spiraled the circumference of the finger and he considered abandoning their plans in favor of ravaging the elf in his private chambers instead.

But Legolas’ eyes widened as the sensation of taste overwhelmed his playful flirtation. He broke the contact exclaiming, “Ai! You are right! That is far different! The taste is ... bolder.”

“Yes, but it is far more common too. The flavors commingle, and if you consider it, there is a lack of focus in the flavor,” Elrohir replied.

“Focus?” the light-haired elf asked with brows narrowing quizzically.

“This is what the bees will make if allowed to do their task naturally,” Elrohir said as he kissed the honey clean from the corner of Legolas’ mouth. He looked seductively into the fairer elf’s eyes. “Yet they are capable of far more if directed.”

Legolas licked his lips, their eyes never losing contact, as the darker elf capped the lid of the pot. “I never could have guessed there was so much to know about the subject.”

Elrohir smiled, laughing slightly. Honey-making was not his hobby. In fact, among hobbies he could think of little as dull. Yet he had a keen sense of taste, and the elves of the House kitchen practiced their talents on him often. Willingly or not, he had learned much about the craft and he was pleased Legolas was acting with interest and not mocking him. He knew few could match his skill, and he really did not expect Legolas to learn or discern the different tastes, but he was enjoying the lesson he gave, though not for reasons he was displaying. His mind was actually plotting numerous ways in which honey could be used for more than just tasting. “The light-colored honey is harvested by bees that take only the finest of fruited flowers. If you consider it, the nuances come to the palate.”

Legolas tasted the lighter honey again, which had not been lidded yet. “I suppose I need to hone my skills. I cannot detect the flower used to make this one.”

Unable to resist, Elrohir leaned forward to taste the flavor on Legolas’ lips. “This one came from apple blossoms,” Elrohir declared.

“I would not bother with the fruit-flavored one were I you,” a voice purred from behind Elrohir’s ear. And then an arm reached around him to dip a finger into the lighter-colored honey still in Legolas’ hand. “It is pretentious to put such high taste to something Yavanna provided us without fuss.”

Legolas ignored this, pointedly saying as he corked the top of the pot and handed it to Elrohir, “Bring them both.” Elrohir did not know if the fair elf had the same thoughts about uses for honey as he did, but their was a glint of mischief in his eyes as he continued, “I look forward to having you teach me the differences.”

Elrohir smiled at what seemed an obvious flirtation. He had not been sure if Legolas understood what he had meant when he had mentioned the idea of a picnic earlier, but he suspected his friend’s thoughts on the matter might be changing. In quizzing the elf, Elrohir had come to see Mirkwood picnics and Imladris picnics were two different things. Mirkwood elves, it appeared, were far more social and didn’t necessarily perceive the event as one of a communal bonding the way Imladris elves did.

Elrohir turned to face his brother. “Putting higher taste is called ‘art,’ Brother,” he said with a note of disdain. He did not like his twin intruding on moments of private conversation, even if he and Legolas stood openly in the public kitchens.

“I am well aware of what ‘art’ is, Little Brother. But such fuss over what is already a delight seems superfluous to me,” the older elf replied as he reached for the other jar, dipping a finger into the syrup once opened.

Grabbing back the pot, Elrohir shrugged the comment off, saying, “You also have little nose for wine, so it does not surprise me that you think so little of the flavorful manipulation the honey harvesters procure. Were it you, all flavor would be limited to its most primary form.”

“The Valar provided as they needed to,” Elladan said as he licked his fingers. He looked then at Legolas as he stated for the Mirkwood elf’s benefit, “I prefer the latter one -- nature’s way.”

“Iluvatar made us into querulous creatures for reason to explore. We taste, we manipulate, and we create to honor Him,” Elrohir said.

Elladan smiled at his twin, and it was clear that the elder was teasing him. “Far be it for me to mock how you honor the gods. Some of us simply offer up our praises.”

Warily, Elrohir asked, “What is it you seek, Elladan?” His twin was being intrusive and the younger was not sure the reason for it.

Gazing at Legolas now, Elladan smiled. “I seek the company you keep, Brother. I find it a marvel that you have managed to get past your shyness. You have met then?” he asked as he inclined his head in a gracious dip toward Legolas.

Elrohir felt his face flush but it was Legolas who said, “I sought him out.”

And Elrohir completed the statement by adding, “We have become fast friends.”

He turned then to pack the honey. A small vial of citrus-infused oil was already in the basket along with some bread, a piece of hard cheese, and a few pieces of fruit.

“So I see,” Elladan replied with a brow incredulously raised as he glanced at the foodstuffs. There was insult in the way he did this as he turned to Elrohir. “Fast enough to go on a picnic together?” But all hint of insincerity disappeared in the next moment as he gazed at the Mirkwood prince, “You are indeed a forgiving soul, my lord. I thought your intention was to leave at the dawn?”

“It was,” Legolas answered, his face serene. He seemed either unaware of the suspicious ways of Elrohir’s brother or simply chose not to react to it. “But after last night’s dinner in your company, and my eventual introduction to Elrohir after, I thought I might stay a few days longer so that I might learn more of you both.”

The reminder that Elladan had dined with Legolas last night sent a spike of jealousy into Elrohir’s chest. He had not thought to question Legolas about the dinner or even to consider that the fair elf had spent several hours in his brother’s company without him, but the insinuation his brother was laying -- hinting at his ineptitude to initiate their meeting -- made him wonder at the meaning of Legolas’ reply. It didn’t help that their actual union occurred by Legolas’ instigation. His shame for his actions the night before seemed even keener now.

“What a delight it is that you will stay for a time longer, for in truth I was seeking you out now so that I might say farewell. I am gladdened that we might have more time with you, although it seems really it is Elrohir who benefits. I doubt you will find much time for me, or anyone else for that matter if you plan to go off picnicking. I hope he will be kind enough to share you with the rest of us on the morrow,” Elladan said as he winked at his twin.

Legolas laughed and blushed, not seeming to read the manipulation of these words. “I assure you,” he replied, “there is sufficient amount of me to go around.” The statement, in Elrohir’s mind, sounded charged with innuendo, but he pushed the thought away. He knew Legolas did not mean it to be taken the way his mind was weaving it.

Elladan dipped his head graciously to Legolas’ comment, oblivious to Elrohir’s emotions. “I think not. You are delightful company, my lord, and were I given all your remaining time as mine alone, it would not be sufficient. I will confess jealousy even in that my brother gets to claim your attention for just the next few hours.” Surprisingly, this sounded sincere, even to Elrohir’s ears.

Unfortunately, they had an undesired effect, at least as far as Elrohir was concerned. “Then claim the time as yours as well,” Legolas said. He glanced at Elrohir briefly, but it did not appear he was looking for permission. The elf turned his eyes back to Elladan and his answer seemed honest. “You are good company as well, my lord. Far be it for me to have you think I divide myself unequally. Please, would you not join us? Elrohir and I set off for our picnic shortly, and I would be delighted if you were to share it with us.”

“On a picnic?” Elladan asked, and Elrohir nearly snorted, his mind joining his brother in shocked unison.

But the expression on Legolas’ face made it clear the fair elf did not understand the question. “Is that so wrong? I will confess the thought just occurred to me, but we could make a gaming session of it, I think, just as it is done in Mirkwood. I have been telling your brother of the contest we play in picnic there, but a challenge left to two is not as much fun. A threesome would be far better. Besides, I have longed to bear witness to your fame with the sword.”

Somehow, Elrohir did not think Legolas was being coy. Was the elf truly serious in turning what was to be a sexual tryst into an honest sparring engagement? Obviously the Imladris way of picnicking was not to be had this day.

When Legolas gazed at the both of them in innocent query, Elladan chuckled slightly. Elrohir gazed at his brother and tried to telepath how little he wanted him to join them, but Elladan’s laugh said otherwise. “Aye, picnics ... they are done this way here as well. I would very much like to come with you.”

Elrohir noted that his brother had not explained those occasions of ‘picnicking’ were done when young elves attended or sometimes when large groups gathered. Still, his brother knew that in Imladris fashion, it was assumed when one said they were ‘picnicking,’ some sexual frolicking was to transpire. That would not be happening if Elladan was to join them.

“You should bring your bow, Legolas,” Elladan said admiringly whilst ignoring his brother’s dark looks. “You can entertain us with your talents. And Elrohir and I can see if those drawings of you were factually depicted as well.”

Elrohir caught his breath. He had not mentioned to Legolas that, just as the elf had seen images of Elrohir from the marchwarden’s drawings, so had Elrohir seen images of Legolas.

“Drawings? What drawings?” Legolas asked as he gazed querulously at Elrohir.

“I... well... they were much like yours, I imagine. I think the source was the same,” the younger twin mumbled, finding the floor the only thing he wished to look at given the moment.

Legolas was silent as he took this fact in. Then he spoke, “So there are depictions of me as well.” He chuckled. “I suppose it is only fair. In your case though there was the twin set of images, but to be honest, I am not sure which of you it was that was captured my heart.”

This was not something Elrohir had considered and he felt slightly hurt by it. He had imagined Legolas sought him out because it was his image in the drawings he seen and yearned for. Why he had not imagined it could have been Elladan? “Still, it was Elrohir you chose to approach,” Elladan said, stating what Elrohir longed to hear being said.

“It could have been you,” Legolas laughed in answer to Elladan’s comment as Elrohir felt his heart sink. Did Legolas have regrets that it was not Elladan he had pursued?

“I suppose, had I not been feeling so gracious toward my sibling last night, it could have been,” Elladan jibed with a smug smile, glancing sidelong at his brother. Elrohir suddenly felt as if he should not be in the room. The conversation belonged to these two alone.

“I did not think you were interested in such things,” Legolas countered.

“He is not,” Elrohir interrupted sharply, no longer wanting this to go on. One thing he had never had to worry about before was competing with his brother for a lover.

“I have interests you are not necessarily aware of,” his twin replied defensively. Elrohir could have sworn his brother surreptitiously glanced at Legolas as he said this.

But Legolas’ face grew stern with this exchange. “You will cease this now! I am not a prize to be fought for. Elrohir, my offer to your brother was honest and innocent. He is right; I should not keep myself only to you in the days I have here. I am only trying to be gracious with my time. Elladan, I thought it clear since our meeting; we are to be friends, but anything beyond that must be pursued outside my circle.”

Elrohir and Elladan both paused, caught off guard by the fair elf’s ire. “Our apologies, Legolas,” Elladan said speaking for them both. He looked as contrite as Elrohir felt.

Legolas narrowed his eyes slightly before nodding his head. “Now the question falls to you, Elladan; will you join us for what will be a day of lunching and gaming, or will you not?”

Elladan looked sheepish as he smiled and softly chuckled. “I will join you if you would still have me.”

“And you, Elrohir? Will you allow your brother to join us?” Legolas asked as if it were the elf’s decision, and Elrohir suddenly realized Legolas was indeed making it his. He still felt slighted, but to show that would have been to admit he was jealous of his brother and he knew he should not be.

“Yes, Elladan, join us,” he said though he really wished his brother would not.

But Elladan did not read this in him. Instead, he smiled as if he had been given a great gift. Bouncing on the balls of his feet, he exclaimed, “Give me a moment to gather some gear for our sport then. I will meet you on the front portico anon.”

Elrohir nodded as his brother rushed away but he had nothing otherwise to say to him. He turned to the basket and resumed packing. The honey seemed a waste now, not to mention what he had planned for the oil, but he let them remain. Legolas reached for his hand as he nestled a few pieces of fruit into the gaps within the hamper.

“You are angry,” Legolas said.

“Nay,” Elrohir replied but he did not look up.

The fair elf sighed. “We knew each other only by our likenesses a day ago, but in this short time I am coming to know you.” He turned Elrohir’s face to his as he gently smiled and said, “I believe you are angry.”

“I am not angry,” Elrohir grumbled. Then he confessed with a blush and humble smile, “Not with you at least. It is my brother who vexes me.”

Legolas quirked a brow. “Because he tries to rival you?”

“So you do see it! I thought it so obvious, but you did not react. It is not his way to pursue a male,” Elrohir scowled.

The fair-haired elf shrugged. “His inclinations may not have been known to him before. But I do not think he openly competes. At least not to his mind yet.” And then he laughed, “For my part, I am very flattered.”

“I suppose it pleases you to be pursued by multiple suitors,” Elrohir growled.

“Can you blame me? If they all had your face, I most certainly can have no qualms,” Legolas returned with a loud laugh, but then saw the darkness descending on his lover. Tenderly he countered, “I jest, Elrohir. Do not fret. As your brother points out, it was you who won me.”

“I thought you were no prize to be fought for,” the raven-haired elf replied.

Legolas smiled. “And so I am not. Perhaps I should say that this prize chose you.” Yet Elrohir was not appeased.

The Mirkwood elf yet read his mood and he leaned forward to kiss Elrohir. But Elrohir pulled away.

With a furrowed brow, Legolas said, “Ai, so you are angry yet. Should I point out to you that I have every right to feel the same. You did not tell me you had knowledge of my appearance before we met.

Elrohir turned away. “I was too humbled to speak of anything at all, let alone speak of a portrait I had previously seen of you.”

Legolas’ forehead smoothed as he put this together with Elrohir’s actions from the night before. “Is that why you fled me?”

Elrohir nodded in confirmation.

“We are much alike, my friend, except that where you grow withdrawn I grow forthcoming,” Legolas said. “We are both a bit insecure when it comes to the game of love, I think.”

Sulkily the dark elf said, “Is it your nature then to pursue only those that flee you?”

“Sometimes. Yet...” Legolas began, but then paused. “Ah, I see now where the rub is. You wonder why I sought you and not your brother. Had Elladan been elusive, you think I would have chosen him instead of you?”

“We are identical in appearance. And he all but admitted his attraction to you. Why did you not choose him?”

“You think it is merely appearance that draws me?” Legolas said with anger sounding in his voice.

Elrohir clucked his tongue at the other, shaking his head in disbelief. “Insecurity. Shallowness. We share many undesirable traits, Legolas. I was attracted to an image and so were you. I would think, so long as you found the object of your fancy, it did not matter what I said or did otherwise. In fact, as I recall you indeed did wish that I say nothing,” he said as his anger rose.

Yet Legolas responded with equal ire. “Elrohir, what would you have of me? I have known you in full for less than a day and thus far our acquaintance has been limited to one room of your house. Do you wish me to say I have found my mate in you? I cannot. Leastwise, not yet.” His tone then softened. “But I continue to follow you. I did not make a rapid escape from your bedchamber come the first light of the day. I am yet intrigued by you and I would know more of you. Can you not take this for an admission that it is you who I would choose?” he asked with arms outstretched.

Elrohir would have liked to do just that, but he yet worried as he pointed out, “Still, you invite my brother.”

“Am I not allowed to befriend him?” Legolas asked, and it was clear this was a point the blond elf would not back down from.

With newfound anger, Elrohir asked, “Why not just admit that you would bed us both if you could?”

“Is that...?” Legolas’ eyes went wide. “Oh, Elrohir, would it be different should you learn I had a twin?” He then shook his head, “No, do not look at me like that; I do not. But certainly we both understand that you and I are physically drawn to one another. Let us enjoy that aspect of what we have before we start putting more to our relationship. Besides, I do not think it is within your brother to have it as you would imagine.”

“And if he would?” Elrohir sullenly asked.

“If he would, what would you do?” Legolas asked. “I know what I would do, and in the end I would hope you might see I am worthy of your trust. But I would rather know what you would do. Would you try to talk him out of it? Would you strike him down? Would you embrace him and choose not to compete with him? I think your answer to that question is more important than what I might say.”

“I ... I know not,” Elrohir answered, surprised by the lobbed question. “It would depend upon the circumstances.”

“And so it is for my answer as well.” Legolas wrapped his arms about his lover’s waist and pulled him closer. “Elrohir, I have told you already that my affections lie with you, and though I am flattered by his attention, I believe your brother’s interest is at a surface level. You vie with a phantom created by your self-doubt.”

“But self-doubt looks so good next to shallowness.” Elrohir dipped his head before raising his eyes to the blue-eyed elf. “Ai, Legolas, you are right. I am not the jealous type, yet in this circumstance I find myself so guided.”

“I would have you, Elrohir,” Legolas said as he kissed the other. Elrohir felt himself melting with the touch of lips brushing his. “Believe that of me. Given choice, you are my first.”

He sighed, “I believe you. And I would have you also before I took Legolad.”

“Legolad?” Legolas asked perplexed.

“Your twin,” Elrohir answered with a laugh.

Legolas laughed as well before saying with a teasing glint in his eyes, “Ah, but imagine it if you will... making love to both me and my twin?”

“Ha! With two of you and one of me, it is more likely I would force you and your twin to make love to me,” Elrohir taunted with a kiss returned to Legolas.

Legolas leaned his head back, enjoying the sensation of Elrohir’s lips running up his neck. “You give me such ideas. But we cannot explore them now. I am afraid we have an innocent picnic to attend.”

Elrohir broke the contact. “So you also know of picnics, do you? Well, you’ve packed your own lunch, or so the saying goes. Best you get your bow then and forget what might have been,” he said with a slight push. “It seems to me you have a demonstration of your marksmanship to give.”

But Legolas did not wish to let go. “Would that I could give another kind of demonstration,” he said flirtatiously.

“That you cannot is by your own initiation. But we will have to be satisfied knowing what is to come later. In my bedchamber,” Elrohir coyly replied.

Legolas frowned. “I seem destined to know that room well.”

“Alack for Mirkwood picnics,” Elrohir said, this time as he truly did push the elf away. “You could have known our woodlands as another part of my house had you not spoken up.”

“Perhaps I shall yet before I leave,” Legolas said with a wink as he parted company to retrieve his bow. “I will meet you at the front portico then, anon.”


###


Their site was made at a place where a swale framed the rise of a small waterfall. It was enclosed by a copse of birch trees that roomed off the space into singular isolation, large enough to play and roam, but small enough to feel as if they kept to a private hall. The sun dappled through the filter of laughing leaves from the trees and the mossy grass was supple and soft on dewy ground. The running stream of water spraying from the falls made a light mist that cooled the air made warm by the high hour’s approach. It was one of Elrohir’s favorite places and just being there brightened his mood.

They set out their meal on a blanket laid near the gentleness of slope side, and through the course of the afternoon they nibbled on the delicacies he and Legolas had packed. This varied feasting seemed to fit the activities the threesome set about in their contests and play, and Elrohir came to see the pleasures of such a picnicking event. It was not as he was accustomed, but joyous nonetheless, and through laughter and frivolity, his heart lightened. He soon put aside his anger and jealousy from the morning, deciding to forgive Elladan. He was having a good time and he came to be glad they had invited his brother. The sound of their hilarity mixed with the splash of the waterfall and it echoed around them like birds flying above their heads.

For the most of the day, they had lounged in the grass and told tale after tale of their adventures, and Elrohir had watched Legolas’ face as he raptly listened, laughed, or questioned the stories relayed by the twins. The blond elf in turn gave them verbal account of the doings in Mirkwood and the battles he had fought against shadow. Everything said was fascinating to Elrohir. Every expression was intriguing. He watched and enjoyed each facet of Legolas that was revealed to him, and he no longer minded the fact that his brother was there as it was given. All looks, he felt, were for him, and watching the furrowing of Legolas’ brow, the lightness of his laugh, the near-seriousness of his expression, Elrohir came to realize he was falling in love with the fair elf.

The day felt light and frivolous as a result. The three played like they were young, and they took each other on in game after game. In contest, he and Elladan had demonstrated their knife work and had even sparred in mock engagement to show their battle readiness. Legolas had in turn exhibited his mastery with the bow and had awed them when he tossed two apples into the air and then an instant later snared them both with a single bolt drawn and sprung in fluid motion.

But a turning moment came when they removed boots and waded into the cool water near the falls. It was an unseasonably warm day, but the leaves on the tree were a reminder of the weather’s change. It made the water chilly enough to dissuade swimming but they had only gone in to wash away their sweat, thus they did not intend to truly bathe. Still, even in calf-deep water they acted in the way that boys do, teasing and flicking water at one another until they had begun to truly make waves and splashes. It was Legolas who was making the most of their game, wading into a sandy-bottomed section and flailing his arms at the twins. The brothers fought back with lightly arcing waves of their own, cackling wickedly as they ganged up on the aggressive elf.

Laughing, their actions threw Legolas and he lost his footing, slipping and almost falling. The two brothers gasped and Legolas used that as his cue to return the favor and splash a clear wave at them both. Running from the water to escape them, he stood on the shore, bent in mirth. Damp but not doused, Elrohir found himself instantly forgiving of the prince’s playfulness. Sobering in the face of Legolas’ beauty, Elrohir felt his legs lock and his heart fill with sudden longing. The elf did not seem to notice as he collapsed to the ground in his amusement. Ai, gods, Elrohir thought, he is beguiling.

Water droplets sparkled on his brow and cheeks and the angles of his face were highlighted by the sheen of the sun on his skin. His hair fell back into smoothest silk, and with eyes closed in deep merriment his lashes were thick and dark against high-boned cheeks. The crack of a smile parting his lips let loose a bold chuckle, yet Elrohir’s thoughts no longer were on their game. The sight of Legolas was too enchanting for that, and in that moment Elrohir wanted nothing more than to kiss the incredible elf.

He was aghast then when his brother stepped trancelike from the water and knelt to do exactly that.

Elrohir gasped but the sound of this did not pull the two apart.

Legolas did not notice who it was that kissed him. His eyes did not open. Instead his head tilted slightly as he accepted the warmth of Elladan’s lips against his, smiling and accepting it as the touch of his fingers stroked the rim of Elladan’s chin.

“Brother?” Elrohir gulped, not believing what his eyes were seeing.

Legolas opened his eyes and looked at the elf before him, and then blinking, he looked quizzically at Elrohir.

Suddenly Elladan blushed, his face growing red from neck to ear tips. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled as he stood and backed away. He dared not glance in the direction of his brother.

“Elladan?” Legolas asked, confused and perhaps, Elrohir read, angry.

“I -- I just wanted to see... but -- no, I am sorry.”

“Why did you--?” Elrohir growled as he stepped toward his brother.

Elladan backed away. “It meant nothing. I just...” Then he paused, caught on another thought. “But you did not .... you did know it was me, did you?” He gazed at Legolas as he said this.

“No,” Legolas whispered in a harsh rasp, angry.

Elladan cocked his head slightly as his vision focused more succinctly on Legolas. ”I wonder ... I ...”

“What, Elladan? What?” Elrohir cried out in exasperation.

“It is just that...if... had Elrohir not made sound to clue you, would you have guessed it was me?” Elladan asked as he intently gazed at the blond elf.

Elrohir watched his brother carefully and wondered what kind of game this was. A vague puzzlement came into Legolas’ eyes and Elrohir thought to rescue him before an answer was made. “Of course he would,” he interrupted, answering confidently.

Elladan then turned his eyes to his twin. “I just had to wonder...”

“I do not understand what you seek!” Elrohir said, arms flailing.

Ducking his head, Elladan replied, “It has been said we are identical in appearance. My curiosity guides me -- guided me -- to wonder if we are identical in other things too.”

“You know we are not,” Elrohir dismissed as he walked back to dry land. He offered his hand to Legolas, who took it, as he passed between them.

“But, Legolas, you said you did not know it was me,” Elladan said as he followed in their path. “Would you have guessed it otherwise?”

“You grasp at something you will never know,” Elrohir replied in Legolas’ place, not wishing to hear the answer and in turn not looking at his brother. Renewed ire, suppressed from that morning, was clearly stoked back to life.

“Perhaps, but it is still a clever query,” the twin tossed out looking pointedly at Legolas.

Elrohir felt enough had been said. “What game is this, Brother? Ever since this morning you have acted as if you wish to contest for something that is not yours.”

Elladan laughed. “In fact it is more like I challenge Legolas.”

Legolas’ eyes narrowed. His demeanor was cautious. “In what way do you challenge me?” he asked.

“To guess between us,” Elladan said lightly, as if this reply was obvious.

“There would be no guessing,” Legolas said dismissively with a scoffed laugh. He stopped before the picnic blanket and folded himself to sit on the grass next to it. “All I need do is wait for the discernable differences to reveal themselves,” he said with a shrug as he squeezed liquid from his sleeve, the only part of him that had suffered from the wet.

“But what if we did not reveal them,” Elladan said as if he were pouncing on the blitheness of Legolas’ answer.

The quizzical look on Legolas’ face mirrored Elrohir’s thoughts. “Clarity, Brother. You speak in riddles,” Elrohir admonished with annoyance.

“Very well, clarity I will give. Simply put, I propose another contest,” Elladan said with glee marking his voice. All embarrassment on his part from the minute before was completely gone. “A contest,” he continued with ease, “in which Legolas is to guess who is who between us.”

“Legolas already said --“ Elrohir said as he sat in the grass next to the blond elf.

“--that our differences will reveal themselves. Yes, my hearing is good. I heard what he said. But what if we did not reveal any differences. What if you had sight alone as your guide, Legolas?” Elrohir asked their Mirkwood guest.

Legolas frowned, and Elrohir suspected he knew the elf’s thoughts. Interjecting his own concerns, he said, “You tried to make him discern through a kiss alone.”

Elladan laughed then, “And he truly thought I was you.”

Legolas glanced at Elrohir briefly, a look of apology in his eyes. He then turned to Elladan and the mirth was gone from his voice. “Your personality is undeniable, Elladan. Given but a few minutes, I would know you.”

But Elladan smiled slyly and said, “Are you so sure?”

Confusion crossed Legolas’ brow. Angered, Elrohir would not allow this to go on. “If he is not sure, I am, Older Brother.”

Elladan then cast the fair-haired elf a knowing look. “Oh? Would you be willing to wager as much? If no words had been uttered, and my brother had not clued you in with his interjection, would the kiss have become more? Would you really know who was who between us? This is what I offer as your challenge.”

Suspiciously Elrohir asked, “What gain is there in contesting this?”

“What gain is there in sparring competitions except to acknowledge it as both a form of amusement and a test of one’s skills,” Elladan quickly replied.

Legolas cleared his throat. There was a spark in his eyes that Elrohir could not decipher. Slowly, as if he were weighing out each word, he spoke. “I see your game, Elladan. Yes, you are clever, but I must ask a question or two of my own.”

“Ask then,” the elf answered as he gave a leering smile at his brother.

“Must it only be sight?” Legolas asked thoughtfully.

What else would you need?” Elladan answered.

“Sound, touch, taste, scent,” Legolas listed.

“Nay, these other senses must not be used.”

“Surely, I cannot turn them off at will,” the blond archer stated.

Considering this, Elladan said, “No, I suppose you cannot. Very well, you would have scent. But touch, taste and sound are prohibited.”

Sarcastically Elrohir retorted, “How daring!” And then he snarled, “Really, Elladan, I see no reason for Legolas to want to play any such game.”

“Oh, but I do,” Legolas interjected placing a hand on Elrohir’s arm. There was something of that sparkle still in his eyes.

Elladan seemed cheered by this. “See, he wants to play, Elrohir.” With a grand smile he said, “And what should we wager in this game?”

The question was directed at Elrohir who shrugged in disgust. “You ask me? You were the one who started this venture.”

But Legolas now seemed very ready to play and offered this, “If I win then Elrohir journeys back with me to Mirkwood to winter in my forest.”

Elladan glanced at Elrohir. He seemed to be waiting for his brother’s answer, and there was amusement in his gaze. After a time he said, “I cannot speak for my sibling.”

Elrohir decided he did not care for the look his brother delivered. Snappishly he replied, “Why can you not? You have done quite well today to speak for me.”

Unwilling to battle words, Elladan casually answered with a wave, “I do not speak at this moment. What say you?”

Under his breath Elrohir said, “I would have done so without a contest waged just so I might escape you.”

Elladan practically leapt to his feet in cheer, “Then it is done!”

But Legolas had more to say. “Not quite,” he said. “I have not entirely agreed to play. What happens should I lose?”

Elladan laughed. “You think to lose?”

“I did not say it so, but I would wish to know what is wagered in this so I might weigh whether it is worth the play,” Legolas answered.

Elladan chuckled his reply, thinking about this before speaking, “Should you lose, then you have to winter here, with us.” As innocent as this sounded, Elrohir knew that a real contest for Legolas’ affections would be waged if that were to happen.

Legolas considered this for a moment and then said, “Yes, I would agree to that wager as it would mean I would have even more time with Elrohir.”

Elrohir smiled at the sentiment.

“Done then,” Elladan announced.

“But I am not done negotiating terms of this game yet,” replied Legolas.

Surprised, Elladan asked, “What else might you want? It is a winning situation for you all around.”

Legolas looked down as if weighing his words. He did not gaze up when he said, “I think I should be allowed to command your actions.”

“What?” Elladan exclaimed.

“By your rules I have sight alone to discern which of you is Elrohir,” Legolas said as he reached down to pick up the pot of honey that Elladan had earlier declared as his favorite.

“You have scent too,” Elladan added, watching the elf closely.

“I would ask also for the right to command you,” Legolas said as he dipped a finger into the jar and sucked it clean.

Now it was Elrohir’s turn to question. Suspiciously he asked, “In what way?”

Legolas smiled slightly, “It is simple really. Should I say ‘smile’ or ‘turn about,’ you must do as I ask.”

Elladan seemed just as confused by this request as Elrohir. “And how might smiling or turning about help?” he asked.

Legolas shook his head as he recapped the pot. “I do not know that this is what I would request, but I can say that I am a keen observer of traits. But if I am to rely upon my sight alone --“

“You have scent too,” Elrohir threw in, laughing.

“-- it would be difficult just to look at you and know. I need something to show me the traits you have, even if they are not spoken, felt or tasted.”

But Elladan smiled warily. He was suspicious, but he seemed to ignore his concerns. “Very well,” he said. You may command us, but only until a winner is declared.”

“Agreed,” Legolas said.

Factually, Elladan said, “Now, we need to remove the physical differences between us.”

Legolas chuckled softly. “My thoughts exactly. You will undress now.”

“Undress?” Elladan asked, his voice hitting a high note that marked his surprise.

Legolas nodded. “Of course. Is that troublesome for you? You are already damp. Why not let the sun dry your garb while we play this game?”

“But... all of our clothing?” Elladan stammered.


“I have reason. You see, I could easily know who is who based on what you wear. You must undress if we are to ‘level the playing field.’ You were the one who said this, Elladan.”

Elrohir shrugged, rather enjoying Legolas’ show of command. “He has a point,” he said to his brother offhandedly.

“But I thought we might only go so far as to shed our tunics,” Elladan said.

“Nay. See there? You have a spot of... what is that? ... on your left knee,” Legolas noted. “Were you only to remove your tunics I would still be able to identify you. Now, by my command, undress.”

Elrohir smiled. He could not pretend to know what Legolas was up to, but he was willing to go along with it. Further, he had no qualms about exposing his body before Legolas and his brother and he rather doubted Elladan did either. Almost all elves had a natural affinity for the naked state. In fact, Elrohir had heard the tales that in the Awakening years the Firstborn had lived in a state of bare undress for a considerable time. It was only when they had realized their skill at weaving and various craft that they had found they enjoyed the art of dressing themselves as well. Still, elves normally were not embarrassed when they found themselves naked.

As Elrohir thought about this he watched his brother. Elladan sighed and then he started to pull his tunic over his head.

But now he realized Legolas was staring at him and he neared the elf. Legolas looked at him with intensity. “Wish me luck,” he whispered.

Elrohir answered, “Good fortune follows you even without my wishes for your success.”

“Regardless of that, kiss me and wish me luck,” Legolas said seductively.

“Is that a command?” the Imladris elf asked with a wry smile.

“It is,” Legolas answered, not breaking his gaze or intensity.

Elrohir complied, happily, reaching out a tender hand to comb his fingers through the elf’s golden hair as he brought his mouth to Legolas’. He could taste honey there.

Slow to break away, Legolas softly said, “I will turn away now so that you might undress without my witness of you. I would make this contest fair.”

But there was something Elrohir wished to know. He curled his hand about Legolas’ arm and pulled him near as he whispered, “You intend to teach a lesson of Elladan, do you not?”

“You will have to trust me. I have no meaning for harm. I would only ask that you put aside all jealousies,” Legolas said. “I can say no more, just follow my instruction and know I choose you above him.”

This was a rather alarming statement but Elrohir did not have time to question it. Elladan spoke from the other side of the clearing, his voice conveying annoyance. “It is not fair if you conspire against me?”

Elrohir looked into Legolas’ eyes. There was sincerity there and he chose to ignore the doubt in his heart and to trust Legolas that all would be well in the end. “There is no conspiracy afoot,” he replied, turning back to his brother.

He nodded to Legolas who stepped again to where their picnic was laid out. Elrohir marched then to his brother’s side and began to disrobe himself, adding his garments to the scattering of items laying on the ground.

But Elladan growled under his breath, “This is not a fair game if you plot ways to win.”

Elrohir cocked his head at his brother, narrowing his eyes as he answered, “The game will be fair, I assure you.” He noted then that his brother’s breathing was slightly labored and he realized it was brought on by an intensity of emotion. He said so that he might sooth, “Let us play this game without derision, Elladan. I think it might be better if we were just to have fun.”

Elladan’s smile was a cold reply. “I can do anything you can do.”

Elrohir chose not to anger though he easily could have. He was completely unclothed, as was Elladan, and Legolas seemed to sense this as he called out, “If none object I will turn myself around and we will let the game begin.”

Neither twin answered, instead positioning themselves opposite Legolas. Elrohir glanced at his brother and felt as if he looked into a mirror. With all clothing gone, they were indistinguishable, even to his eyes.

“There we are,” Legolas said with a smile at the naked pair. His eyes ran up and down their bodies, and Elrohir found himself stirring under the scrutiny of the gaze. “Now I will confess something to you that I could not say before, but this challenge gives me opportunity. I had decided -- before the suggestion of this game -- to defer to your opinion of what a picnic should be.” The elf looked at Elrohir with hunger, or something near approximating it, before glancing at his twin; it appeared their divestment of clothing was for more than just the purpose of making them more similar in appearance.

Elrohir’s eyes grew large as he realized what Legolas was saying and doing. He almost spoke but was stopped before he began.

Legolas laughed. “Yes, I can see your thoughts, and yes, I know about the Imladris fashion for picnics. I suppose I should have stopped you before you began your negotiations, but I was intrigued and I wanted to see what would come of it. Now that we are here and I can see you in all your physical glory, I cannot dismiss the notion that the thought comes back to me.” Legolas was pleased, that was obvious. He breathed a deep sigh. “Now, my lords, I would have Elrohir show himself to me.”

Elladan made a sound and Legolas quickly admonished, “Ah, but we shall do so without words! That would forfeit the game!”

His eyes scanned their bodies and his lips parted in response. “I will say that I have not yet determined which of you is Elrohir. You truly are identical. But I will learn who is who, and you will see my strategy now.”

He ran his eyes over their bodies at the same time that he stroked his fingertips across his own chest. His garment was an open shirt, cinched at the waist with loose toggle buttons serving for closure. The fabric was light and it moved with him. It fell open becomingly at the middle of his chest, and there had been ample opportunity to admire the leanly muscled chest beneath many times already this day. But now Legolas’ fingers lingered at the edging of his shirt. His fingers lightly touched the skin beneath before he sensuously reached within and stroked the keen peak of a nipple. He sighed a small whisper, eyes closing briefly in response to the sensation.

Slowly he regained himself. He began to speak but it was obvious it was to Elrohir he was specifically guiding. “I will not touch you, nor will I hear you. But you will hear me as it is my wish that you obey. You have desires for me. I can imagine you touching me,” and again his fingers ran over his chest. His breath hitched as this time the heel of his hand stretched down to his groin, pressing there.

Again, a noise fell from Elladan’s mouth. Legolas’ eyes came up at this, and again he admonished, “We agreed that I was not to touch you and I will not. But there was nothing in our agreement that said I could not touch myself,” the elf said as he ran his hands over his chest again.

Legolas’ strategy was now clear and the effect was certainly working to weed Elrohir out. He could feel his breath quickening with the visual stimulus of seeing Legolas touching his body so, not to mention the other way his body was coming alive.

Legolas saw this reaction and his brow rose. He smiled serenely as he said, “I see my tactic is working.” But Legolas was not looking at Elrohir as he said this. It was Elladan he was speaking to!

With astonishment, Elrohir glanced at his brother. And with further astonishment he realized that Elladan was growing just as aroused as was he! Elrohir gulped. That was twice now that his brother had stepped into his part as Legolas’ lover. But how could this be? Elladan had always professed to prefer females! If that were so, why was he growing erect just watching Legolas’ touches?

And then Legolas seemed to realize Elrohir’s state, and though he paused for a moment, he also smiled broadly in the next breath. Speaking to both of them in turn, still recognizing neither, he said, “Yes, indeed, it is working, and now we know, Elladan, why you have acted the jealous suitor all this day. Is this the truth to the matter? Do you desire me?” the elf asked as his hands again strayed over his body.

And this time, Elladan seemed incapable of containing a moan. He was breathing rather heavily and Elrohir could see the supposition was true. Elladan wanted Legolas. How had this come to be?

Legolas answered this question, “Perhaps it was over dinner last night that you acquired this longing? You were very entertaining, I will admit, but I felt rather certain that you had no taste for men. I had heard as much prior to my arrival here in Imladris, and that is one of the chief reasons I pursued Elrohir.”

Elladan did not speak, dipping his eyes, and Elrohir wondered if the game was up and his brother would relent.

But Legolas did not seem to notice this or who was yet who. Instead he played with the lapel of his shirt. “I feel the need to divest myself of these clothes also. Will you help me?” he asked Elladan.

The elf immediately stepped forward and loosed the belt at the elf’s waist. Legolas watched him intensely as he did so, arms hanging limply at his side. His mouth was parted and he breathed deeply as the hands brushed his flesh.

Elrohir felt a sharp pang of jealousy stab at his heart, but he believed Legolas knew what he did. Further, he suspected that these actions had been anticipated and plotted. Yet he could not idly stand by and watch his brother play seducer to one he had so long admired! Legolas was a gift Elrohir had yearned to have since he had first seen those drawings. Could Elladan say the same?

And though he had not been commanded to do it, Elrohir stepped around his brother, taking the shirt at the front and opening it to pull it over Legolas’ shoulders. Further, he could not stop himself from placing a kiss that masqueraded as a caress on the elf’s shoulder. Legolas smiled and leaned into the touch.

Similar thoughts must have played in Elladan’s mind. Not to be outdone, the twin reached up, also it seemed, to catch Legolas’ attention. His mouth parted for a kiss, and Legolas whispered, “I was not to taste you, but I suppose that does not mean you cannot taste me.” His lips slipped open invitingly and Elladan did not let the opportunity fall away. He took the kiss. It was slow and lingering, and that jealous pang stung Elrohir again.

He could not stand it. His hands swept around to gently caress Legolas’ jaw as he tenderly turned the elf’s face toward his. Again he saw parted lips and eyes half-lidded with desire. “Kiss me,” Legolas commanded and Elrohir eagerly met the blond archer’s lips and the elf’s tongue meshing with his.

Legolas broke the kiss to gaze into his eyes, and Elrohir’s heart skipped as the elf said to him, “Will you undress me the rest of the way, Elrohir?”

A shiver ran down his body. “You know me?” he asked, thrilled that the elf had discovered him. “How did you know?”

“I told you I would find you,” Legolas sighed, looking at no other. He was intoxicating to gaze upon, wanton and yearning, and Elrohir truly desired nothing more than to make love to Legolas right there and then. His heart was singing with excitement and desire. “Take me,” Legolas whispered in demand and Elrohir was only too happy to comply.

“But what of me?”

This was Elladan speaking.

Elrohir had forgotten for that brief moment that his brother was also there. Elladan spoke in a crestfallen voice that made Elrohir almost feel pity for his brother.

Legolas directed his attention to the twin and smiled. “Aye, you are hard to ignore.” The elf’s eyes sparkled in delight, “To look at you is to look at my heart. And what of you? If we still play at games of sort, I would have you stay where you are.”

“I am not sure I would be comfortable with that,” Elladan replied.

“Ah, but all you need do is watch. Surely you have watched others making love before.”

“It is not the same. I would --“ Elladan stammered.

“Watch me,” Legolas whispered, his voice commanding. “Watch my face.” And he stroked a gentle hand down the twin’s jaw and brought the elf’s eyes up to meet his own. “Can you not imagine it as if the pairing were you and I?”

“But that is why I cannot. It is what I desire.”

“Watch me then and imagine it true. Think of this as a vision... Imagine it you. Consider it a moment within a dream...”

Elladan’s mouth fell open with longing. “You are a dream,” he whispered.

Legolas softly smiled, his eyes still locked with the elder twin. “I command you then to watch my face. Watch me.”

Elrohir felt that pang of jealousy again as Elladan nodded. But Legolas seemed to know of the ache Elrohir felt. He took a step away from Elladan and turned to Elrohir running his hand down his lover’s sharp cheekbones. He said, “Think of it now; see your face where there is his.” He kissed Elrohir then, his lips hot, wet and wanting. And when he broke away, his eyes trained only upon Elrohir. “It will be as if you see yourself in a mirror but it will be you making love to me,” and his voice was commanding as if these were his demand of Elrohir, not Elladan.

The idea was seductive. The thought of watching his own expression while he made love to Legolas ...

He wanted, hands stroking Legolas’ chest by their own will. He made claim to his prize. The elf was his, eyes gazing only upon him.

His fingers ran over the archer’s lean muscles, stopping at a pebbled nipple to lightly pinch the peaked flesh. The elf smiled and moaned softly at the simultaneous moment, rolling his head back in invitation so that Elrohir would touch him there too. And Elrohir could not help but give in. He dipped his head into the crook of the elf’s neck, devouring the flesh at Legolas’ throat with a length of kisses. His body was alive with excitement and his member stood erect at his pelvis, encouraged by the close proximity he was to Legolas’ backside. He rocked his hips forward in a move that was entirely that of his body’s make and again Legolas moaned.

Yet the fair elf remained clothed. His hands ran down to the waistband of Legolas’ leggings and met another set of hands there attempting to do as he had thought. He suddenly understood though that the hands pulling the trousers off were not Legolas’ but his brothers.

Elladan?

Elrohir tried to discern if he was angered by Elladan’s intrusion but just at that moment, Legolas turned his head and joined his lips to Elrohir. The elf had no choice but to yield, all thoughts of jealousy or envy suddenly gone.

“Yes, do this. I command it of you. Undress me, Elladan,” Legolas uttered between kisses as he allowed Elrohir the opportunity to devour his lips and to stroke his chest. Elrohir had no thoughts then but to take Legolas as his, and he stopped thinking of his brother. In many ways it had been made clear to him that the fair elf was his and it was time he began believing it.

Thus, he did as he had earlier been commanded; he began to think of Elladan as a mirrored vision of himself. Everything he would do would be reflected in his brother’s eyes, and all desire raised in his brother would be of his own make. Despite his earlier hesitance, he could not help finding the concept of this incredibly arousing.

“I want you,” Legolas was whispering and his head was rolling back, his back pressed into Elrohir’s chest. Legolas’ chest rose and fell in heated breaths, and Elrohir found his hands unable to keep from running over the smooth velvet of the fair elf’s flesh. His fingertips stroked the contour of ribs and lean muscle. Legolas sighed in delight as the Imladris elf wrapped his arms about him. His back arched and he wriggled in Elrohir’s arms, rubbing his hips into Elrohir’s erection. And though still clothed from the waist down, Legolas’ clothes did nothing to hamper Elrohir’s heat. Fevered by desire, he dipped his head into the crook of Legolas’ neck, kissing and sucking on the length of it, working his way to the tips of those pointed ears. His actions evoked a moan and this inflamed Elrohir even more.

And then he looked down and saw his alternate self’s contribution to this. His twin had managed to part the breech in Legolas’ leggings and had exposed the fairer elf’s burgeoning flesh. Legolas could not help but moan as Elrohir’s reflection touched him, stroking the elf as if faced with the most beguiling sight he had ever played witness to. Elrohir found his own body tightening with the vision of this. He imagined what his brother was feeling and the thought set his mouth to watering. Elladan’s excitement was his.

“Take me,” Legolas moaned, and Elrohir could not think which twin Legolas was speaking to. He could see that those blue eyes had also turned down to gaze at his mirror image. But his hips were backing into Elrohir. For Elrohir, the message was clear; Legolas wanted him inside.

And yet he was staring at the twin. Still, Elrohir chose not to be jealous. He realized Legolas’ thoughts were akin to his; Legolas was thinking of this scene as if he were watching an image of Elrohir. What must that be like? To both be taken and to be a witness to his ravishing simultaneously? That thought was stirring in ways Elrohir had never imagined. Indeed, he wanted nothing more than to comply with Legolas’ request and to ‘take him’ just so he might see such a thing.

But first he had to complete the job his alternate self had become lost in doing. Kissing his way over Legolas’ shoulder and down his spine, he reached Legolas’ leggings and managed to push them further down, exposing the elf’s firm backside. His hands ran over those taught muscles as he pulled the breeches to the ground. Legolas swayed slightly as he pulled away, but he recovered, his cheeks flushed and his pupils dilated with unspent desire. Elrohir held his hand while lifting his long legs to shed the garb. His twin watched this, but he did not complain. Instead he stepped aside as Elrohir helped the blond elf lower himself to his knees.

Elrohir broke their space then, but only to reach for the oil he had earlier packed, still in the basket. Returning to kneel behind the elf, he poured a generous amount into his hand and rubbed it into his and Legolas’ flesh. His mirrored self breathed a shuddering breath while Legolas’ crested upon a hitching sound. Elrohir smiled, knowing the touch excited them both, as it did him.

Elrohir’s oiled fingers caressed the sensitive opening Legolas had moaned to be attended to. And so he whispered, “Do you want this?” He circled that place with a single digit.

Legolas released a quivering breath as he turned his head again to Elrohir. “I want you,” he answered. “Please... please, I want you.”

His twin moaned in answer to that, as if the words were muttered for him. Elrohir, in his charged excitement no longer cared for whom the words were directed. So long as there was enjoyment in this, he would not concern himself with any jealousies.

Still, it amused him to watch his reflection run his free hands over his own flesh, the look of lusting desire clearly visible upon his features. Grey eyes shuttered and his leanly-muscled chest heaved. Dark hair spilled over his shoulder and a light sheen highlighted cheeks and brows. This elf’s skin nearly glowed and it was clear he was alive with passion. And this was indeed how Elrohir felt. He wanted to find fulfillment; he wanted release. But he knew also he wanted to prolong this moment. Make it last, he told himself.

He used a moan from the blond elf as his invitation and he slowly pressed his way into Legolas’ body with a single digit.

Legolas’ hips bucked forcing the elf’s back into an arching response as he gasped quickly. “More,” he softly cried and Elrohir smiled in glee. He pressed another finger in and gently scissored the pair so to prepare the opening. His other hand tightened around Legolas’ chest, and his forearm brushed a peaked nipple. It was fully erect with excitement and Elrohir perceived the elf ready for his entrance.

“I come undone...” Legolas moaned as his buttocks again bucked into Elrohir’s body. “I want... Please, I will spill myself....”

This time, Elrohir was prepared for his press into the elf. His rigid flesh found the place where his fingers had been and he easily slid his body in. Legolas gasped, nerve-endings afire as he adjusted to the thickness of Elrohir’s organ. But the next movement must be Legolas’, for he did not aim to hurt, only pleasure. He applied firm pressure in his embrace so that Legolas would know he desired more, and slowly, slowly the elf pushed into Elrohir’s flesh, his breath hitching with the heightening envelopment. In this, Elrohir realized his own breathing was now a quickened pant. He was excited to the point of ecstasy, but he willed himself not to yet come unhinged by the moment. He wanted to make this event go on.

Legolas’ head now completely rested on his shoulder and his breath came in quick bursts that tickled Elrohir’s chest. He was able to see Legolas’ facial expression from this angle, and the fair elf’s eyes conveyed an ecstasy that was reaching a point of being uncontained. His eyelids were heavy, the sensations overwhelming his control of anything but his desires. He was watching both twins’ actions in turn, but his thoughts were no doubt directed to what was happening within. His throat emitted a groan that expressed his eagerness. One hand tightened around Elrohir’s supporting arm at his waist, the message saying that his lover should not let go. Elrohir realized that weakness was overwhelming the glorious elf, and were he not holding Legolas up, his lover might well have collapsed. Legolas’ other hand was tangled in his mirror image’s hair.

Elrohir then glanced at his brother, all feelings beyond his own yearning completely obliterated by his body’s ache. It was clear there was no competition between them anymore. His twin vision was absorbed only in his own passions as he sucked, kissed and expertly drew Legolas’ turgid flesh into his mouth. Any apprehensions or uncertainties now seemed gone from his brother; he consumed Legolas with complete abandon.

At the same time, his mirrored self’s hand coursed his personal need as he glanced up. Eye contact was made between them, but no communication was in it. It was like he looked through a glass at something outside himself. The expression he observed on his brother’s face was his own, but it was separate at the same time. It was as if he was in his brother’s place at the same time as being in his own, and his body reacted without his even thinking it. He pressed into Legolas, his right hand tightening on Legolas’ hip. The blonde elf moaned as Elrohir’s body found that most secret of spots within, and the sound of Legolas’ cry was most seductive. Elrohir marveled at the pleasure this three-way contact.

He stopped thinking and let his body do what it naturally desired. Stroke after stroke he pulsed into Legolas. He heard Legolas’ gasping pleasure and heightened moans as he felt the archer’s body tense and loosen with each movement he made. The beautiful pressure this made against his want was indescribable and he found himself increasing his speed as his need for more was gaining upon him. Legolas’ hand was no longer tight upon his embracing arm, but was thrown over his head. The elf was completely limp in his arms, and his fingers stroked absently through Elrohir’s hair.

Elrohir could no longer hold back. He had to look, and when he opened his eyes, he saw Legolas gazing at him, his expression one of complete surrender. Nostrils flaring as if he were running a rapid race, he gasped out quavering breath saying, “I am yours... I am yours... I am yours... “ And then he arched back, eyes rolling back until they came shut and Elrohir knew Legolas had reached climax. The elf quivered in his arms.

Glancing down, he saw his twin reflection nearly mirror the same effect, his tongue lost in its duty as he came unraveled. A spill of pearly seed arced out from his fisted hand, and his twin’s eyes closed in the turbulence of his orgasm. He moaned his pleasure, the sensation of that vocalized vibration causing even greater stimulation to Legolas’ enveloped flesh. His mirrored self seemed to sense this and his face softened in the pleasure he was both giving and receiving.

And then Elrohir realized he too was at his peak. He had not noticed how his body was bucking with these visions, but in the silent gasps of the other two he could hear his own strained breaths. By the sound of his moaned response only, he knew he was coming. He had no more control. His legs felt like rubber beneath him and he did not know, even kneeling, what held him up. His head was spinning as his body released the mounting climax of his ache. He saw stars and white light as his gulping cry was released. Pent muscles relaxed and spilled joy into the tightness that consumed him. He was the pleasure of those around him. They were his pleasure. They were joined. They were him.

He could not breathe for a long minute, but when he came back to himself he realized kisses were being plied to his neck and cheeks. Both Legolas’ hands stroked his skull, caressing the lines of his jaw and cheekbones. A serene gaze, one of love and total surrender, was in Legolas’ eyes.

He glanced briefly at his alternate self, and he saw that his twin no longer attached himself to Legolas. Instead he lay upon the ground, supine, contentedly stretching like a cat. He smiled into his brother’s eyes, and Elrohir could tell there was gratitude there.

For his own part, he slowly withdrew, finding there was strength again in his legs, though not much. He felt spent, as if he had fought a war all on his own. He was ready to collapse to the ground like Elladan, but would like to do so with Legolas in his arms. As if perceiving such, he found Legolas’ arms wrapped about him, and the archer’s strength was suddenly apparent. Their bodily contact was broken from within, but outwardly Legolas held him. Slowly they folded to the ground, and Elrohir’s wish was granted. Legolas pressed Elrohir’s head to his chest as he now took the dominant position. He stroked Elrohir’s hair as a lazy drowse began to fall over the Imladris elf.

“Do you see now?” Legolas asked, and Elrohir wondered what the elf was speaking of. He realized his eyes had glazed over and that he had begun to fall into reverie, but he called himself back, focusing on the fair elf so that he might understand what was being said to him. His eyes turned up to Legolas, but he realized then that Legolas was not speaking to him. He instead gazed at Elladan.

“I see that you choose him,” Elladan answered from the other side of their picnic blanket.

“Yes,” Legolas answered, and he gave a gentle smile to Elrohir as he stroked his hair. Contentedly, Elrohir let his eyes soften into a dreamy gaze, but he kept his ears alert to this conversation.

“Yet you allowed me to partake,” Elladan replied though it came as more question than statement.

“I needed you both to see there was not a competition. I will not let there be one.”

“But I can be his equal. Does that not count for something?”

“As before, I am flattered, but there is more to claiming my heart than pleasing me bodily.”

“I thought I pleased you in other ways too.”

“You have. You do. But choices are made. We are drawn as we must be. Your overturned instincts do not mean that your new sexual experience is a first and only choice to you. Nay, it means you have discovered something within yourself.” Legolas shifted slightly, but he plied a kiss to Elrohir’s brow as he settled again. “Learn more of it, Elladan. Find out if it rules you or if it is just a fancy that comes out of attraction.”

“I would rather explore it with you.”

“And I would rather you found another so that you would know your own heart.”

“In other words, your heart cannot be turned to me.”

”No, it cannot.”

“But we are so alike, my brother and I.”

Legolas laughed. “In appearance you are equal. I cannot deny that I am drawn to you both in that. But in ways of love, there is more than the physical at stake. Were I to sate only my bodily need, I could have left at dawn and been done with my duties in Imladris. But I know my heart. I find I want more than that. Between you both, I choose Elrohir. You need to know that. That is why I allowed you to partake.”

“You wanted me to see that sex between you is solely for want and not muddied in games. It is not just a physical act. It is love. That is why you demanded I look, is it not?”

“Exactly so.”

“You will not be angered if I tell you I tried to imagine myself in his place, will you?”

Again, Legolas laughed. “Of course I will not. It was by my command that you do so. There is something to be said for voyeurism. I wanted you to see. But I hope you will not be offended when I say that I imagined the expressions that you wore were his. I could not really see his face, you see, so I gauged your reactions as his.”

Elrohir caught a glimpse of his brother’s shrugged response. “I suppose then I will just have to find my own picnicking partner.”

“I expect you have done so before,” Legolas replied.

“Aye, but I think I might explore other facets of myself in my next outing.” Elladan blithely commented. And that meant something to Elrohir. He suddenly realized the measure of this encounter.

Legolas had seen it. Elrohir tightened his arms about Legolas’ waist in appreciation for what he had done. This had been what Legolas had meant when he said no harm would come to Elladan. None had. In fact, Legolas had only helped them both to open their eyes. He had given the opportunity for Elladan to learn more of himself, but he had also made it clear he would not become Elladan’s lover nor turn Elrohir away. If there was Elladan in Legolas’ life, there would also be Elrohir in a place even dearer. The elf would never let them have the chance to fight for him. Legolas’ decision was already made.

And Elladan seemed to accept this easily enough. Elrohir realized then there had never been a true want in Elladan’s heart. This had been more for the sake of his curiosity. And though he did not care for his brother’s tactics, he could not be angry with him for it either. There was never really anything to compete against.

Again, from the corner of his eye, he could see his brother rise and walk to where their previously discarded clothes lay. “You will leave us then?” Legolas asked. There was nothing beseeching in his voice, only honest query.

“Aye. I think I will let you have your privacy now and I will resume my day as it was meant to be. Thank you for letting me spend these hours with you, Legolas. I understand now why I have seen love growing in my brother’s eyes. I will not vie with that. I should not have even tried. It is clear those feelings are reciprocated.”

“I appreciate your insight, Elladan, as well as your brotherly affection. Should you always remain such, Elrohir is lucky to have you.”

And with that, Elladan parted. Eyes still misted over, Elrohir felt, rather than saw, Legolas place a gentle kiss to his brow as strong arms tightened around his chest. Cheek to his temple, Elrohir felt the blond elf smile contentedly. Legolas stilled then, his breath slowing slightly as he nestled in for what was to become a nap. Elrohir found himself drifting off as well, thoughts of what had occurred this day fleeting through his drowsy mind.

And then something suddenly occurred to him, and he found his eyes coming sharp as he stirred in his lover’s arms and began to prop himself up. Legolas gazed at him lazily. The Mirkwood elf smiled at him, his heart open.

“It was the honey that clued you to me,” Elrohir stated.

Legolas stared at him for a long moment before his mouth drew up into a broad smile.

“I was afraid you would be jealous I had chosen his favorite flavor in the endeavor. But I needed to entice him to agree, and I knew choosing that honey would flatter him enough to make my plan work,” Legolas said.

“You planned this?” Elrohir asked in astonishment, but Legolas reacted with equal surprise.

“You think I made Elladan kiss me in the water, thus causing him to contest my ability to choose between you?”

Elrohir suddenly realized how ridiculous this sounded, but Legolas did not dwell on it.

“Nay,” he continued. “I was as shocked that things turned the way they did as you. But once I realized the nature of Elladan’s actions, I decided to use what tools I could to make him see he did not want me really, so much as he wanted to answer questions he had about himself. And to compete with you at the same time. One cannot help sibling rivalry, after all.”

“But in doing so, you cheated in our contest,” Elrohir pointed out, running back to the moment in the contest when Legolas had picked him out.

“If in that you mean I used my senses, you would be correct,” Legolas said with a shrug. “But you agreed to let me command you. I commanded that you kiss me.”

“You knew you were going to do that,” Elrohir insisted. “Thus your reason for tasting the honey and then kissing me; you planted the taste upon my lips.”

“My actions were obvious I suppose. But unlike how Elladan might propose it, I really cannot turn on and off my senses at will. Had Elladan wished me to truly refrain from using taste or touch, he should have said no to my demand to rule you both. He approached me first, if you will recall. And when you countered, I still played fair. I did not openly lick your lips to discern the honey I left there when I kissed you before. But yes, I still used taste to find you.”

“Would you have found me otherwise?” Elrohir asked, wondering this thought aloud.

“I would have. I had hardly spent my arsenal yet, though I was surprised that Elladan reacted to my first attempt so easily,” the blond elf laughed. ”Still, it did not take me long to discern which of you was which. I would have found you, Elrohir, honey as my tool or not.”

“And so you have,” the elf sighed, choosing not to labor over the conjecture further. Legolas was with him, and he was glad for it. He let his vision begin to soften again as he felt Legolas’ breaths grow long. A nap was now fully warranted.

This time however, it was Legolas who roused them. He said, “Of course, I hold you to our wager. You will journey in another with me to my homeland now.”

“Ha! You admit you were false and yet I am expected to keep my honor?” Elrohir chided.

“Either way, we must winter together. It was agreed. And if you could, I would have you join me in Mirkwood.”

Elrohir smiled, conceding. “Very well. I will not question your win. I will join you.”

“Good,” Legolas said, relaxing again. “There is much there I would wish you to see of my home,” Legolas said as he yawned. “Or perhaps there is much there I would wish others to see of you.” He gave Elrohir a sensual smile.

“What do you mean by that?” Elrohir asked.

But Legolas’ answer was merely a mumbling sigh. He glanced at the elf’s face and it was clear through the semi-slit eyes and long draws of breath softly inhaled that Legolas was either asleep, pretending sleep, or was very near sleep.

Elrohir truly did wonder at the elf’s meaning, but he decided not to question it further. Legolas had proven to him to be unpredictable, and though he found that to be startling, he also saw it as an exciting feature. This elf was a complexity he had not mastered, nor did he think he ever could. Like honey, Legolas was a combination of marvels he had trouble discerning, but once unveiled, he delighted in the intricate flavors exposed. There was much to appreciate in that. A broad spectrum was greater than one honed idea, and he knew it was his taste that needed to grow if he was going to come to fully appreciate the elf. He decided to wait and see what Legolas had in mind for when they ventured into his Mirkwood home. It was more enticing that way, for he knew it would be exhilaratingly, and delicious, at the very least. He would not press for more.

And with that he let the amber warmth of the sun heat his flesh. He smiled in the arms of his lover as he let his mind truly fall into the richness of his dreams. And in that he smiled, for still he tasted the remnants of honey upon his lips.


Next up: a romp in Mirkwood? You tell me. TBC if enough people want it.