Grey Mirrors Falling

III

"No!" Elladan's scream sounded over the roaring men. "Leave him!" he screamed in a demanding voice, struggling against the reins holding him in place. Watching with dread as the madman lifted one of the iron sticks from the fire, a piece of glowing coal pierced at the tip, and motioned it against his brother's pale skin. "Take me instead!" He screamed. "Let him go!"

The Master's black eyes turned to the screaming Elf. "You will have your turn, don't worry..." The gold glimmered on his fat fingers; Elrohir's flower clasps sparkled in his reddish hair.

"No!" Elladan cried out again. "Not my brother... Take only me! I'll do anything if you let him free... even my life! Take it! I'm yours!"

The fat hand with the stick paused again. The insane coldness in the man's expression made him look like a reptile. Dangerous and unpredictable, and red, red like death. Now a spark of something, seemed to light the man's expression from within. A trickle of clear saliva escaped his lips and run down in his beard.

"You will do anything to keep your twin alive?" His voice was slow and filled with something thick and repulsing. A voice that screamed danger. Yet Elladan did not yield.

"Anything..." he confirmed in a hoarse whisper. Desperate and exhausted after his struggle against the leather ropes. Relieved beyond sanity by those new moments of time he had bought for his brother with the capture of the man's attention. A few more moments at least, before the pain began.
The man crossed the floor and approached him slowly. The thick, soft fingers came to touch his face and Elladan forced himself not to flinch. To let the man's fat thumb caress his lower lip.

"Anything?" he asked again.

"Anything," Elladan confirmed. His eyes cast down. His voice just a whisper. Fear for Elrohir pounding in his chest. A desperate need to protect.

The thumb moved away abruptly. A lazy, snickering smile appeared above the beard. "Do him!" the man demanded.

Elladan's eyes snapped from the floor. Looking at the man in terror. "What?"

"Take him," the man repeated. "Take your pleasure from his loins!"

Elladan didn't hear the howls from the other men. Didn't notice how the sound of roaring laughter rose in the smoky room. He just stared at the man in horror. "He is my brother..." he argued.

"It is either you or I!" The madman met his gaze with cold darkness. No challenge in there, no spark of amusement. Just dead, cold nothingness and night.

Elladan watched his fat fingers, remembered how the heavy jewelry had bruised Elrohir's skin. The angled stones sunk into his flesh. He imagined them caressing his brother's white skin, those thin, bloodless lips covering the pointed tip of his ear, yellowing teeth biting and maiming his rose bud nipples, and a strangled sound escaped his throat.

"I will..." he forced it out. "I will do it. If you let him go..."

He laughed then, the Master. A strange light sound, almost like a flirting woman. "I will let him go. " He smiled. "But only if you stay." He winked.

Elladan swallowed hard and closed his eyes for a second. "Yes I will," he said at last. "I will not fight you anymore. For surely my brother will hate me when I'm done with this unseemly deed."

He opened his eyes and caught Elrohir's in a glimpse across the room. Apparently someone must've told him what was going on for he looked at Elladan across the dim lit room with a scared expression.

The Master yanked the leather loop from the hook and led Elladan back across the room. On shaking legs, he approached his brother. Shame and despair coloring his cheeks. Made tears burn in his eyes. He hardly realized it when his hands were freed from the tight ropes. Never noticed how a couple of the men drew their swords, positioning themselves in front of the door. How the circle of drinking, laughing humans drew closer. He did notice Elrohir's hands being freed. And felt the hand on his back when he was pushed down to the fur with his brother. But all he could think of was Elrohir's eyes. The bewilderment and confusion. The fear he found in them. The way his limbs still fell motionless to his sides even after the rope was gone. And he saw Elrohir's lips. Red and slightly parted, as for a kiss.

"Forgive me, dearest one," he whispered in their mother tongue. "I did not know how else to save you..."

"Elladan..." sounded the answer. Nothing more. Just his name.

A sudden kick in his back sent Elladan sprawling from his kneeling position to fall on top of Elrohir. Feeling the rapid moving chest against his own.

"Don't talk... Do it!" The master's voice sounded merciless. "Or I'll take him myself... me and my men... while *you* watch..."

"Elladan..." Elrohir's voice sounded again and Elladan's tears finally started to drip from his eyes.

"Don't be afraid; Elrohir, " he whispered. " I won't hurt you. I promise I won't. Trust me this final time..."

Elladan felt Elrohir's hands in his hair. Combing through the silken mass. Stroking his cheeks to lift his face from his chest. Their eyes locked in a well-known embrace. Grey mirrors met in the midst of the madness.

"I trust... you." Elrohir said and bent forward, lifting his head off the floor to press a chaste kiss to his forehead.

"Not good enough! Get to it!" The men yelled and shouted. And suddenly Elladan had had enough. In a quick move, he arched himself upwards to rest fully on top of Elrohir's body.

"Look into my eyes, " he said quickly. "Look into my eyes and see only me! This is me, Elrohir. None of these others matters to us. Do you understand me? See only me, my brother...and their bloodstained filth can not touch you...nor me."

Elrohir bit his lower lip and nodded quickly and Elladan kissed him. With closed eyes, he covered his twin's lips with his own. Caressed them lightly and couldn't help but marvel at their softness, the way they gently parted for his tongue. The welcoming sweetness inside. And for a moment, the heavy boots surrounding them were gone. The sour stench was not there at all. The blackened room drifted behind walls of soft madness of a gentler kind. The kind found in a warm, wet surging kiss.

Elladan opened his eyes to find Elrohir's hooded by heavy lids. Loaded with something he couldn't comprehend. But his lips were there, the wet cave of his mouth, his slick tongue that played with Elladan's own. The warm dampness of his skin. Without thinking Elladan moaned into his mouth. With a light flush of shame he felt his body react. Realized that his hands had traveled down Elrohir's naked sides on their own accord, caressed the silken skin.

With an outburst, he wrenched his lips from the other's. Gasped for air and tried to regain focus of reality. Yet all he could think of, all he could see were those soft grey eyes, looking at him almost calmly. Elrohir's fingers laced around his neck, pulled him back down.

"Do not fight this, brother," Elrohir's breath puffed against his throat in a soft whisper. "It is better this way...if we let it go..." Suddenly his tongue came out, replaced the whispered words with gentle lapping on his throat. Soft kisses fell on his jaw. "Love me," Elrohir begged beneath him. "Love me now, as never before."

"Elrohir..." The word was as much a question as an utterance of surprise. A need for confirmation. A sign that this was right.

"Hush." Elrohir arched up and recaptured his lips, held him firmly in place with his arms. Moaned lowly into the kiss. Deepened it, added more passion.

Elladan heard his own thundering heart, the sound of theod rod rushing through his body. All he was; that lasting kiss. The sensations it created, he need to touch...to feel. He gave in with a deep sigh and though the relief was mingled with horror, the taste of disgust still lingered in his mouth, it had nothing to do with the body beneath him. Elrohir was beautiful and pure. Beautiful and pure and openly wanton as he ground his hips up against Elladan's. Startled him, but only for a moment... The flavor of his kisses; fresh green mingled with nuts and vanilla, the scent of his hair; wild cherry blossoms on a warm summer's day through the haze of sour smoke in the room. A faint hint of green apples scented from his milky white skin and the feel of him, the feel... more than he could possibly have wanted.... or dreamed of...

Elladan caressed Elrohir's smooth cheek with his own, nuzzled his ear between his lips and met the grng hng hip with thrusts downward, made his own arousal apparent to the other. Felt Elrohir's caressing answer.

Elladan's hands roamed Elrohir's naked arms. Slid down his sides. He felt Elrohir's hands tug at his tunic and rose to his knees to quickly remove it. Toss it aside before diving back down, slide his chest across the other's, feel hard nipples meet and greet, create lust filled sensations that reached his blood along with Elrohir's sighs, made it boil hotly. Urging him on.

He bit gently into Elrohir's neck, marking him slightly with his teeth, moved down to kiss and lick one rosy, hard nipple. The taste of his skin spoke directly to his crotch, clean and fresh and salty with perspiration. And all the time Elrohir's hands, playing in his hair, sliding down his back, holding on to him hard when his body twitched and shifted with pleasure. Elrohir's legs had curled around his own. He lifted himself slightly off the grey fur to grind himself against Elladan. Let their identical members meet through the thin fabrics, cross each other and build friction, a rhythm as blood filled hardness caressed its twin eagerly from beneath.

Elladan gasped for air, threw his head back and saw the gathered men as through thick fog. He heard their stray comments, their rude suggestions and cheering but didn't comprehend what he was hearing. When he dropped his gaze back to Elrohir's...met those blurred eyes...all he could think of was his brother. His brother and t sha shared passion. His need to be closer...-inside.

He sought out the other's lips again. Claimed them with a power that reflected his burning need. Plundered his mouth with his tongue. Savored the taste. The soft feel. Marveled at Elrohir's eager answer. Noticed the slight blush in his cheeks, knew it came from the lust he felt. A lust that mirrored his own.

Unable to wait, filled with a need, to see, to reveal… he arched himself down Elrohir's body, made sure to let his hair brush the other's naked chest, felt him shudder and heard him mew like a cat in response. His hands followed his body. Touched and explored the firm muscles, the smooth panes of Elrohir's chest and stomach. When his head reached his navel he paused to press wet kisses to the soft of his belly, dip his tongue in the shallow cave. His hands passed his head and started working on the familiar lacings of Elrohir's leggings. His mouth was there waiting when the hardness inside sprang free, greeted his lips with pearly white beads of salt liquid; presented a smooth, hard rod to his mouth. An invitation Elladan accepted, licking a trail up and down the shaft, sucking lightly at the tip to savor the saltiness before taking him into his mouth, working him gently with lips and tongue and sucking him all the way down.

A startled cry from Elrohir;

"El-la-dan!" before his brother arched himself up against him, throwing his head backwards and ended up resting on his elbows while thrusting his hips upwards with such force that Elladan had to hold his hips in place with his hands, try to control the fever.

He could hear the men's cheering as a murmur in the background, mingled with awe now, a scent of envy...-of human arousal, sweat and body heat.

Someone threw a small wooden box at them.

"Use this," a hoarse voice sounded. "It's salve..."

Elladan never gave it a second glance. Slowly he let go of Elrohir's member. Crawled back up to face his twin, hovering above him on his fours. Elrohir lay back down, flushed and with shiny eyes, his hands opening Elladan's leggings, pushing the fabric away to touch his straining flesh. Looking at it with hunger as the tip of his tongue came out to wet his lips.

"Now, brother...." Elladan said. His gaze captured and burned into the other's.

"Now," Elrohir confirmed in a hoarse whisper and swallowed hard, pushing the leggings over Elladan's hips. He used his feet to kick off his own and the soft, suede boots with them, then he effortlessly curled his long, slender legs around Elladan's back, lifting himself up, presenting his sweat slick entrance to Elladan's weeping member. "It won't hurt, " he assured the other.

Dizzy with want, Elladan took a grip of Elrohir's hips and used his body weight to push gently against the entrance. Enflamed by the sight of his brother's arousal resting flatly against his stomach in a similar state of his own, he added more pressure and gently breeched the tight opening, forced Elrohir's flesh apart with a deep moan of relief. He could hear the other whimper. Feel him crumble from the pain, but was in no way capable of stopping. Inch by inch he pushed his way into the surging heat of the tight, smooth channel, resting only when he had taken fully possession of his brother's body. Then he paused and found Elrohir's eyes, the reassuring gaze of his lover.

He started to move. They both moved. Slowly at first, then faster, as Elrohir's exclamations of pain were replaced with those of lust and rapidly increasing pleasure. Rocking back and forth they mirrored each other in this as in everything else. The rhythm was a part of their being. Effortlessly guided by instinct. How to pleasure the other a secret they carried in their blood. In their souls. Knowledge that had always been there. Surprise flared across their features as they both realized the unnatural in this naturalness. Elrohir held his member in a sure grip, stroking it in time with Elladan's thrusts into his body, twitched and moaned every time Elladan touched the hidden place inside that made small worlds burst and explode. And as their rhythm increased, Elladan felt it as well. Felt Elrohir's pleasure as well as his own. Their own special rhythm a magical friction, like a wheel spinning, thinning the layers, closing the distance between them, blurring the border between their minds, a little bit more by every turn. Until...until it spun so fast, felt so good, the world wasn't there anymore. And as with the world, the border was gone. Nothing stood between them. Only this shared pleasure, this consuming ecstasy as Elrohir's body sent cascades of creamy white liquid across his stomach and Elladan's body twitched and shivered and did the same thing inside of him.

"Hate them!" they spoke as the power of the orgasm hit them, as nothing was but blinding bliss and rushing blood. A pillar of white light. A something made of soul. A bright, burning star that was their own, a key.


**************


The two dark haired Elves turned their heads simultaneously to take a look around. It was morning, or so it appeared from the grey light that forced itself in through cracks and openings in the dirty walls. It was cold. The fire had died in the tray, not even an ember left to greet the day. But the twins were warm. Sometime during their sleep one of them, or both, had wrapped the fur around them. Created a cozy, warm cave for the two of them, their spent and d bod bodies.

There were other bodies in the room as well. Staring eyes forever locked on the ceiling. Open mouths with drying lips over yellow teeth. Bottles and cups of wine in hands that would never lift them to a mouth again. The master's eyes were resting soullessly on them. Now they could see they had been green. Pale green like seawater, not black at all...in death. Even the skinny dogs lay dead under the table. The toothless woman sprawled in a corner. Emotionless masks. No expressions of surprise, but not of peace either. Their bodies seemed unmarred; nothing gave away the cause of death. Their skin was pale or greying as in life, no bruises or cuts, just plain death coming for them. Life extinguished suddenly and without violence.

"Did we do this?" they spoke and rose at the same time. Each setting the right foot before the left. Both turning their heads, scanning the room with their eyes, from the left to the right. Turning to each otwithwith frightened eyes.

"Now I know why we were born as two...so much power..." they spoke, "can not be wielded by one body alone..." Wisdom seeping through, coloring their past as well as their future. Realizing at the same time that they were both speaking, they looked at each other with horror. They turned to pick up their clothes. Reaching for the same pieces of garment before adjusting and moving in opposite directions, still they did not realize that they often picked up and put on the other twin's clothes, not their own. It would have been humorous, if it hadn't been for the sheer terror of it all.

They finished the dressing at the same time. Both moving, bending over the dead madman reaching out and unfastening the coppery clasps from his hair, one by one, each using two fingers, colliding in the air above the dead mans dirty red locks. When they both had their share of clasps they turned and moved towards the entrance. Moving slowly and dizzy, almost colliding in the door. Mirroring the other's every footstep as they did. Both with dark, staring eyes. Afraid to look at each other.

They weren't surprised when they reached for the same horse, when they found the pair of them bound by a fallen trunk. Nor when they swung themselves up in the saddle at the same time. It was early dawn, the ground covered in a thin layer of ice when they rode out from the abandoned farm in the exact same pace. The bodies in the trees swung in the breeze, turning to flash dead grins of appreciation towards them as they rode past. The bloodied god was as dead now as the day before. The ugly, carved statue, just that. Held no power now that the insane was gone.

The clear, white rays of sun filtered through the branches as the twins of Rivendell passed through the wood once more. A wood that still was bound by its hunger for red liquid but would recover, in time, they hoped. It was a cold morning. Every leaf rimmed with white. The colors were not as bright as the day before. They were higher up now, where the reds and purples outshone the golden range. Clouds of smoke followed their every breath, neither of them was thinking, they had but one goal: To move, get away, from the farm and the dead, staring bodies.

As the sun rose higher up on the sky however, Elladan noticed that they were no longer moving as one. His body and his mind were again fully separated from his brother and pangs of guilt hit him, both when he thought of what they had caused and the bargain he had made to save his beloved brother... but most vivid was the memory of the pleasure he had found in his brother's arms. It cannot be, he thought to himself, yet he knew it was so...

"We are free of each other's minds now, brother," he spoke without looking back at the other.

"I know..." Elrohir answered behind him. His voice sounded uncertain, almost fragile.

"Do you fear what we did?" Elladan asked.

"...Not the things I ought to fear..." sounded the slow reply.

They rode in silence for a while, the crisp ice on the ground cracking under the hooves. A sleepy owl flew up in front of them, scared by their early morning presence.

"...What *do* you fear, Elrohir?" He was afraid to ask, but if he didn't, how could he get through this day? The days to follow...?

"Do you think that would happen...if we did… *it* again?" Elrohir asked in return.

Elladan paused and waited for the other to come up beside him.

"I do not know," he answered. "But I do believe it was our hatred that did it..."

"Yes..." Elrohir bit his lower lip, his gaze dropped to the ground. "Do you loathe me?" he asked nervously. "For giving myself so willingly to you?"

"No!" Elladan almost smiled. "Do you loathe me for bargaining with him, forcing you..." The guilt at his actions suddenly overwhelmed him, made him feel sick... he was the one who carried blame..."I never meant to hurt you. If you will hate me now, I..."

"No!" Elrohir interrupted. "It all makes sense now...doesn't it?" he continued after a short break. "...Our constant companionship...our shared solitude... And we could not bind ourselves...least we could live with the same - for we would surely love her, both...as you and I, our soul must be one."

"Yes," Elladan continued his thoughts. "We are one, it is as it should be..."

Suddenly he felt warmth on the back of his hand holding the reins. Elrohir's fingers came to capture his. They rode in silence again for a while, both in deep thoughts before Elladan spoke again:

"May I kiss you again tonight...brother...-my love?"

"You most surely can...my beloved."


*********************


Epilogue:

"He will not bind himself to you." The Lady of the Wood's voice was stern but still held compassion in that peculiar way only she could manage. Steel and ice, warmth and fire.

The young Elven maiden abruptly looked up from her work, fine silver threads tangled in her slender, white fingers as her blue gaze reached for her mistress'.

"Elrohir? He..."

"Elrohir," the Lady's voice softened as she reached out and stroked the maiden's pale cheek with a graceful movement, her sleeve brushing her chin in a mild caress..."Elrohir's heart is with the one he loves. They are one now. He and his chosen one."

The maiden's white features gained a deep crimson flush. Tears welled in her eyes as she quickly dropped her gaze from her Lady's. The silver threads caught in her skin, sunk into the flesh and colored the glittery threads crimson. A fine-spun red web on tender creamy skin.

"Who?" she managed at last.

A strange expression crossed the lady's features and she smiled the tiniest of smiles.

"His brother. Elladan..."
"No!" The maiden's eyes widened. Surprise and bewilderment apparent on her fine features.
The lady smiled again.

"Is that such a surprise to you? Surely you must have seen they shared more than a bondblooblood..."

The young Elf struggled to regain her composure.

"I feared that I was not the one chosen for my beloved. That I could never be the one...but my Lady, no! I never suspected it to be his brother... How long has my Lady known this?"

"Forever and yet… I never thought they would share... mutual bliss in that way." A distant lingering smile filled with wonder and amusement could be seen on Galadriel's serene features.

The maiden dropped her gaze again, her head fell forward, cascades of silvery hair covering her face, shrouding her as tears dripped down and she started to peel the fine threads off her skin.

Galadriel's voice was still soft when she spoke, a slight glow visible on her skin. Increasing slowly as she stroke the younger Elf's hair.

"Do not cry over this... Do not mourn what was never yours... Elrohir has found his love, the missing part of his soul. So will you, in time."

"Thank you my Lady," the maiden uttered, but her voice was still sad, salty tears fell to the silken fabric in her lap. Galadriel wondered if it had been meant for her wedding.

"Do not cry, child," she whispered again. "The sky is filled with stars. Surely one of them shines just for you."

The End