The Hands, The Hands

The Hands, The Hands
By Mieren

Legolas was dangling his legs idly over the branches of a large pine tree, peering out over Rivendell with serene eyes. He was more or less content to watch the proceedings of the city. He had barely passed his majority and had pleaded countless hours with his father to be allowed on the trip to Imladris. His father had ensured him that he would be bored out of his skull either from the negotiations or the simple lack of activities in the city. After the first day of listening to the mind numbing arguments of advisors quoting Valar knew what, he’d abandoned the talks to wander blindly though the Last Homely Home. When his wanderings found him outside, he’d taken quickly to the trees.

An uneasy feeling followed him for the better part of day. He hadn’t sensed anything awry his first three days in Imladris, but something was bothering him. Unfortunately, he was too young to know what it was. On occasion, the blue-eyed blond thought he glimpsed the edge of a navy blue tunic, but every effort on his part to find the owner of said garment failed. After a time, he abandoned his efforts and retired to the gardens where he was currently perched high up in an age-old pine.

The movement returned, this time to his either side, both of his elbows brushed by the new presence. Shocked, Legolas did something unheard of for a wood elf, something that had never occurred in elfin history. He fell out of the tree. Or would have had strong arms not stopped his plunge, pulling him into a firm embrace.

Embarrassment reigned supreme. For several moments, Legolas was so flustereat hat he could scarcely breathe, let alone think. It was because of that that he didn’t protest the removal of his vest or shirt, garments flung to hang in nearby limbs, only reacting when he felt deft fingers playing with the lacings to his leggings.

Recognizing that he was a virgin, one just this side of majority, they moved slowly for a changentlentle with their latest charge. For once, the twins decided to be gentle with their mutual partner. The hands stilled.

Moving much more slowly than they had in centuries, the raven pair set about seducing their young blond companion. The first kissed him slowly, waiting until Legolas relaxed a bit before inserting his tongue and wrapping it with the virginal muscle he found. The twin behind him kept one hand firmly wrapped around his waist supportively, using the knuckles of his other hand to gently tease the stirring length under the pale gray leggings of the elfling in his lap.

The tormenter behind lapped enticingly at a delicately pointed ear, causing the elf in his lap to lurch at the new sensation. Chuckling, he repeated the act on the other side, pleased greatly when the archer leaned into the touch. Seeing his responsiveness, the raven elf in front reached up and pinched both nipples simultaneously. The blond arched and cried out into his mouth. The young prince spread his thighs and raised his hips in asking, not really sure what he was pleading for. The twins were all too happy to show him.

Quick fingers returned, finishing unlacing his leggings and pulling them free, exposing the eager length to the chill air. The pants ended up decorating a nearby limb. The twin facing him scooted back and laid belly down on the tree branch, burying his face in the prince’s lap. He only rested when his nose was nestled in pale golden curls. Legolas cried out and arched into the heated orifice, distracted so severely that he didn’t notice when a finger was inserted into his opening. He only sensed the invasion when the twin began to thrust his finger. He squirmed violently, earning himself the presence of a second slicked digit. Moaning, he gave in to the fingers and thrust into the hot slickness containing his arousal.

Something within him was touched that caused stars to flare in his vision and Legolas bucked wildly, dislodging the fingers inside him and nearly gagging the raven twin sucking him. Behind him, the smirking twin used his raised posture to position himself, pulling the blond down onto his stiff length. Legolas tensed around him, going painfully still. Though it almost drove him to the brink of insanity to do so, the taking elf went entirely motionless to allow the archer to adjust, using only his hands to bring rapture to the blond.

After several minutes, Legolas began to squirm against his attackers, silently pleading for more. moutmouth on his length sucked harder, grazing him delicately with teeth and circling his head with a questing tongue. Hands gripped his hips and lifted him a mere inch, lowering him down gently again while he groaned wantonly. Lifting him higher, the raven pair held him aloft while he was impaled repeatedly from below.

Eyes scrunched shut, Legolas flailed his arms, tangling his fingers in nearby limbs to support his weight in the awkward position as the twins had their evil way with him. He had never imagined that he would be introduced to sex so young or with so little warning, but he couldn’t deny that he loved the attentions paid to his body. The pinched nipples, the sucked ear tips, the navel licking, the gentle fingers sluicing through his pubic hair. In his entrancement of the situation, he never even noticed the missing fourth hand, the raven twin suckling his length stroking himself to completion. A mouth found his throat, sucking harshly to create a hickey. Legolas took a swat at the offending party even though he knew it was too late. Their activities were thus marked with a bright purple love bite, too high to be hidden by any fashion of collar or scarf.

His final undoing came from questing fingers massaging his joining with the elf knight behind him, gently massaging the ring of breeched muscle. His head was tugged around just in time to lock a mouth to his own to drown out his cry of completion, the first in his life. Liquid heat coated his innards and splashed against his inner knee, letting him know that the twins had come as well.

For a few moments, they remained locked in position. The very moment Legolas shifted to get up, the flurry of hands arose. A moist towel, long since chilled in the crisp morning air, swiped him clean as fingers smoothed his hair. Clothes were reclaimed from nearby tree limbs and tugged skillfully into position.

As suddenly as they had appeared, the twins were gone, still undressed no less. Reeling from the abrupt experience, Legolas slumped against the tree trunk, wondering idly what he had done to draw the attentions of the raven duo. His fingers strayed to the bruise at his throat and he despaired, wondering what his father would think of him.

He need not have worried. Espying his father, he recoiled, spotting two identical marks on the king’s throat. Thranduil turned silver eyes to his son. The initial flare of anger settled quickly into resentment and finally to amused acceptance. He knew that, like himself, his son had been offered little say in the pairing. Vengefulness might have struck him had he not glimpsed the satisfied look in the aquamarine eyes of his only son. Sighing, he simply shook his head in defeat. The twins had struck again.

End.
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