Shadows of Rivendell

Title: Shadows of Rivendell 5/5
Author: Genesis Grey (helfireclub@hotmail.com)
Pairings: Elladan/Elrohir, Elrond/Aragorn, Arwen/...
Rating: NC-17
Summary: What if the Ring had never left Rivendell?
Disclaimer: Own nothing. Wish I did, but don’t.
Warnings: Incest. Quasi-non-consensual situations. BDSM. Some het contentAuthAuthor’s Notes: Feedback always makes me happy. :) I really appreciate those who have taken time to comment about the story! Thanks always to Nethene and Rider for betaing.

Shadows of Rivendell - Chapter 5


Arwen sat in the comfort of her father’s chair in the Hall of Fire as a low moan echoed about the walls. Her head was thrown back against the high headrest and she arched her back, her hands clawing the arms of the chair. Between her legs and hidden partly beneath the folds of her skirt, Lindir knelt, his hands moving over her thighs as his mouth licked and suckled at her most private place. She marveled at how skilled the elf was as her hands moved from the armrests and began to stroke through his blond hair, making sure he would not escape before she was satisfied.

A cry of bliss escaped her lips as her hips shifted forward. A feeling that was perfect and painful and wonderful shuddered though her form as Lindir tried to pull away. She let out a laugh as her knees hooked over his shoulders and she crossed her ankles to prevent his escape. The rest of her body collapsed bonelessly into the chair as she laughed at the sinful natures of her actions. She wished her father would walk in and see her lounging in his chair, an elf trapped between her thighs. She wanted to see the look on his face.

The laughter died on her lips and she frowned, letting the thought die away. Her father had been acting strange the past few days and it worried her. He seemed more uptight and distracted than he had in years. She let out a sigh, uncrossing her legs and letting Lindir free. She sat up in the chair and gave the elf a smile as he fell back onto the floor. “What do you want, Lindir?” she asked, taking in a deep breath to calm her panting. “Rather, who?”

“You, of course, my Lady,” he said, even as he averted his eyes to the hallway.

“You lie,” Arwen smirked in a breathy voice as she rose from the chair. Her legs felt a little weak, but she could stand. Lindir was truly amazing. He knew how to please a woman. She stepped forward and cocked her head to get a glimpse of the hallway, at whatever Lindir was looking at. A grin formed on her face as she tuned back to the elf. “Tell me, Lindir, is it the maid who tends the garden or my father’s chief advisor that draws your attention so?”

A blush formed on Lindir’s high cheekbones. “Erestor,” he answered quietly.

“So, why do you not pursue him?” Arwen asked, crossing her arms. In the past week, nearly all the elves in Rivendell had given into their desires, giving chase to those that seemed unreachable. Many suitors had approached her, elves that she had not known harbored such desires, and though she could not give them her love or her hand, for those belonged to Estel, she delighted in sharing the comforts of the flesh with them. Glorfindel, Erestor, the garden maids, the elven bards, the advisors that frequented the library, and now Lindir. It was a glorious time in Rivendell to be enjoyed by all, despite the shadow that seemed to hang over the valley. “Well,” Arwen prodded again when the elf at her feet did not answer. “Why do you not pursue Erestor?”

“Glorfindel,” Lindir replied bitterly.

“Ah,” Arwen said with a nod of her head. “Yes, Erestor’s sometimes lover.” She turned to look over her shoulder as Erestor thrust into the elven maid a last time, causing both of them to shriek with rapture. “It appears the object of your attention is done with his current companion,” she said, watching as Erestor and the ros rose from the floor and moved in opposite directions before looking back down at Lindir. “And I know that Glorfindel is busy christening the tables in the dining hall with the kitchen staff. I would say this is a good time to make your move without fear of him.”

“Truly?” Lindir asked, his eyes lighting with hope as he got to his feet and bowed. “Then I would go to Erestor and see if he will have me. If it is well that I part with you, my Lady.”

Arwen shrugged. “You have icediced me well and I thank you, now go and follow your heart’s desire, my friend,” she smiled, gesturing at the Hall of Fire’s main exit. “He went to leftleft if you wish to know.”

“My thanks,” Lindir said, a greedy and lustful look his eyes as he bowed and virtually ran from the hall. Arwen smiled as she watched him go. It was wonderful to see everyone following their desires for once, even in such dark times. While she loved her kindred, the elves were an uptight race. As children elves were allowed to play as they wished, with whomever they chose, in whatever manner they might want. But as age and supposed wisdom took from them all their playful nature was to be replaced with propriety and an apparent denial of all things pleasurable.

With a flutter of her dress, Arwen moved and left through the side exit. Lindir had distracted her from her search for Estel; and while he had been a pleasant distraction, she was eager to find her mortal love. Walking down the hallway, she sighed and looked around, noting the elven maids with a light smile as they tore eagerly at each other. She’d been up and down the halls of Rivendell, through the gardens, Estel’s room, the library, the kitchen, and still she had not found hide nor hair of Estel.

A scream rang in her ears and she looked up in. It was coming from Elladan’s room, but it was distinctly Elrohir’s voice. She hiked up her skirt and ran down the hall to her brother’s room, throwing open the door.

Almost instantly, she was struck by the scent of blood, sweat, and sex. For a moment she reeled backwards in surprise. She had long known Elrohir held a secret lust for Elladan. It was in the way he moved and looked at his twin. But she never expected to see what she saw now. It made her grin.

Her brothers were huddled in a blanket beside the bed, Elladan cradling Elrohir like a child as they cried. Blood and sweat slicked floor around them, catching her eye as she walked in the room but she ignored it. She was glad they had finally given into desire and found each othThouThough there was a nagging from the corner of her mind that was horrified at the thought her brothers had bloodied each other and committed incest.

Elladan looked up, his face streaked with tears as Arwen sat down on the bed behind them. “What are you doing here?” he asked as Elrohir stared blankly at the wall, not acknowledging her presence.

“I heard a scream,” she said, combing through the sweat soaked tangles of Elladan’s hair with her fingers as she began to plait the dark locks. He let out a deep breath, leaning back on Arwen’s legs, wincing as his back touched. Elrohir whimpered at the movement, but did nothing more, leaning closer to his twin’s embrace. The blanket slipped a bit and Arwen let out a gasp at the sight of bloody red welts marring her brother’s pale skin. Draping the sloppy braid over Elladan’s shoulder, she noticed there were similar welts at the tips of his shoulders. Their father’s belt was thrown carelessly on the ground a little ways away. “Did Father do this?”

“To a point,” Elladan answered quietly. “I did the rest.”

Arwen frowned as all thoughts of her brothers violent incest fled her mind, filling it instead with thoughts of their father. “Father has been acting strange lately, hasn’t he?” she said, petting her brother’s dark hair, briefly imagining it was their father’s. He hadn’t been himself lately. Even when she bumped into him earlier, he had virtually brushed her Tha That was very unlike her father.

“Yes,” Elrohir answered in a whimper, “we all have been acting strange. It’s the shadow.”

Arwen shook her head and looked down at her brother. How like proper andd Eld Elrohir to say such a thing. “Oh, Elrohir, perhaps the shadow, as you call it, is a gift. It has given the elves of Rivendell a freedom to follow their desires in a way I have never seen. We should accept such a gift,” she said flippantly as she reached down and stroked Elrohir’s hair. He cringed at her touch. “Has it not given you the courage to follow your wish, though most forbidden?”

Elrohir whimpered and Elladan grabbed her hand, removing it from Elrohir’s head. “Leave him be, Arwen,” he said as he released her hand. “He has suffered a lot of pain tonight.” His voice suddenly dropped to a whisper as his own hand began to stroke his brother’s hair. “He has suffered too much this night.”

Arwen pressed her lips together. She did not like to be brushed off. First by her father and now Elladan. Elrohir she expected such things from. She loved her brother dearly, but Elrohir always seemed a bit jealous of the attention Elladan gave her. She sighed and decided not to bring it up. Tonight was special. Elrohir had gotten what he always wanted.

She cocked her head to the side and looked at the blood that was seeping through the blanket. “Perhaps I should get a healer,” she suggested, trying not to smile at the arousing images of her brothers locked in violent passion. “Those wounds should not go untreated.”

“Please,” Elrohir said and it sounded as if he had begun sobbing again. Elladan moved, leaning forward to free her knees. “Get Father,” he said quietly as she stood up.

“I’ll bring him as soon as I can,” she promised, watching the way Elladan pulled his twin close and began to whisper something into his ear as she walked away. She would bring a healer, but she would give them a bit more time. Coupling could be rough when it was forbidden. Perhaps with a le mle more time they would realize what a gift Elrohir’s ‘shadow’ was. That it had given them what they desired. How could they just turn away from that?

When she was in the doorway she looked over her shoulder, hissing to herself. Once again she had been diverted from her primary goal. “Have you seen Estel tonight?” she asked sweetly.

“No,” one of them answered as Arwen sighed and closed the door. Better to give them some privacy. Crossing her arms she walked toward her father’s room. A strange voice briefly told her to go to his study, that what she desired was there, but she shook it away. Her father would not be in his study at this hour. His room was a far better guess.

A smile formed on her lips as she passed the statue of the elven king Gil-galad. In his shadow, she could see Lindir and Erestor locked in each other’s arms. Erestor violently tearing at the blond elf’s robes while Lindir blissfully lay beneath him. The seemingly mild advisor was apparently quite masterful given the chance.

She turned her head and hurried to her father’s room. She wanted to speak with him before he ran off to tend to the twins. He had been acting strangely and she was going to get to the bottom of it. Opening the door of her father’s room, she peeked inside. There was a form curled up on the bed and for the moment she thought she noticed the glint of metal peeking out from underneath the covers. She shut the door behind her as she walked toward the bed, peeling back the blankets.

“Estel!” she cried joyfully.

The mortal moaned as she called his name and threw her arms around him, hugging his unconscious form close. She frowned at the stillness of the body against hers. Estel was known for being a light sleeper; even opening the door to his room tended to wake him. “Estel?” she said, laying him back on the bed and brushing his dark hair from his face. It worried her that he felt hot to the touch. “Are you well, beloved? Please, answer me.”

“Do not worry. I gave him a sleeping draught. He is well.”

Arwen looked up. Her father was sitting in on the window ledge looking out at the valley. He had a haggard appearance about him that was odd for an elf of his status. She pressed a kiss to Estel’s forehead, relieved to have finally found her errant love, as she stood and walked toward Elrond. “What about you, Father,” she called gently as she came to stand beside him. “Are you well?”

Elrond turned and forced a thin smile. “I am well, my daughter, but I am not proud of myself this day. There is much I must answer for,” he said, the smile fading at he turned and looked out the window once more.

“Father, you must learn to relax,” she said, taking one of Elrond’s hands between her own. “You always carry so much grief and sorrow with you. At times, I worry for your health.” She rubbed the top of his hand, is frs frightfully cold. Elves did not get sick as mortals did, but they did get cold. It wasn’t a physical chill; it was more a weariness of the soul that elves suffered from trauma, too much time alone and apart from loved ones. Arwen worried very much for her father.

“Do not worry for me, Arwen, my child,” he said, turning toward her and stroking her smooth cheek with his free hand. “I will survive.”

“But you always seem so lonely,” she said, moving one of her hands to brush the stray strands of hair behind her father’s pointed ear. It was rare that the elven lord looked so unkempt in his appearance. Arwen found it very attractive. “I would be remiss in my duties as a daughter if I did not worry for you.” She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek, enjoying the feel of his smooth skin against her lips before she pulled away. A thought crossed her mind as she looked over her father’s attractive features and ruffled hair. She brushed the dark hair back again, following the fall with her fingers, over her father’s shoulders and down his strong back. Perhaps she could provide a barrier against the cold.

Elrond had once again turned away from her, staring listlessly out the window, lost in his own thoughts. She leaned across him and gently pressed a kiss to his lips. He leaned back quickly to break the kiss, but Arwen followed him, until he was caught between the wall and his daughter’s sweet lips. His hands moved and he pushed her away.

“Arwen! What in the name of the Valar do you think you’re doing?” he bellowed. Arwen couldn’t help but smile. The shock on her father’s face made him seem younger, even his eyes held a light she had not seen in many years.

“If you are confused by a simple kiss, it truly has been to long, father,” she replied sweetly, attempting to move closer as Elrond held her at arms length.

He frowned. An expression Arwen found quite adorable. “My daughter,” he said, stressing the second word, “I am you father and I do not wish your affection in such ways. You know such things are forbidden between close kin.”

She blinked for a moment, then let out a light laugh. “Elladan and Elrohir have already broken that unspoken law this night. With blood, sweat, and pain they have become more than brothers, more than twins. Lovers.” A look of horror and shock crossed her father’s features. She pressed as close as Elrond would allow. “Can’t you feel it all around you, father? Elves are giving into their desires for once. The dawn of a new age is upon us, accept it.”

“You speak madness,” Elrond said as he pushed her away crossed the room, moving to keep the bed between them. “You are not yourself, daughter. A darkness has fallen over Rivendell and you must fight against it. It grieve tha that I only now do I fully comprehend that,” he said darkly, even as Arwen d tod toward him, provocatively slipping the dress from her shoulders. “Arwen Undomiel, you are a Lady of Rivendell and of Lorien and you will act it,” he said sternly as she exposed her supple upper body, running fingers over her bared breasts.

Arwen rounded the bed and raised an eyebrow as her fingers ran over the chain that held Estel to the bed. For the first time she noticed the sheen of sweat that covered the human’s body, the satisfied look, and the faint smell of sex that hung in the air. “Father, I’m surprised,” she said, looping her slender fingers through the links of the chain and lifting it slightly. “I was under the impression that you did not enjoy the comfort of men; not that I can blame you. Estel is indeed attractive. I am glad to know have not forgotten the joys of the flesh.” There was a twinkle in her eyes as she rattled the chain and let it fall back to the mattress. “Though I would not have imagined you to be so creativ

A blush of shame crossed Elrond’s face as he turned away. “Stop, Arwen,” he said quietly, clenching his hands in to fists, “there is no need for mockery. It is unbecoming an elf.”

“I am not mocking you,” Arwen said, using her father’s sudden distraction to move up beside him. “Perhaps beforeouldould have been jealous and angry that you touched my beloved, your foster son, in a way that you have denied him to me. But as of late, I feel my mind has been set free. I understand you could not refuse your lust for him and I wish you would desire me as well.”

“I am ashamed of all I have done these past days,” Elrond replied, closing his eyes. “I am ashamed that I did not acknowledge the darkness I have allowed to fall over this peaceful valley, that I was unaware and unwilling to admit it was affecting even myself. I am ashamed that I made excuses to explain my actions, as if there would ever be an excuse for hurting my own children.”

“Estel lies in a gentle sleep, a pleasant expression on his face. Elladan and Elrohir are in each others arms, a thing Elrohir has always wanted for unknown years; though they will need you to treat their wounds in time. What harm have you done them? They are all at peace. And you have certainly done me no wrong,” Arwen said, leaning in close, “though it saddens me that you refuse my touch.” She leaned forward and kissed him again.

Instinctively, Elrond opened his eyes and shoved her away. “I told you to stop this!” he yelled as she fell back, tripping over her dress and tumbling onto the bed. Arwen let out a yelp of pain as her head hit the hard metal chain. She clutched her head and whimpered. Almost instantly, her father was leaning over her. “Arwen, daughter, I am sorry. Let me see your injury,” he said gently as he tried to move her hands away.

A gleeful giggle escaped her lips as she lurched forward and wrapped her arms and legs around her father, pulling him down against her. “Do not worry, it is only a bump. More than a fair price for getting you where I wish,” she laughed as Elrond tried to pull away. She could feel the warmth of his body through his thick robes; she could feel every muscle surge as he tried to get away without harming her. “Oh, do not pretend you do not want me,” she admonished as she bucked her hips against his, “I can feel quite keenly that you do.”

“Arwen, let go of me this instant,” Elrond demanded, trying to pull apart the arms that were locked around her neck, but his daughter refused to let go. Their wrestling became more violent and Arwen let out a yell as she managed to roll her father on his back, straddling his waist and pinning him witr lir light weight. She knew he would not throw her back for fear of hurting her.

“Oh, no. Now I have you were I want you,” she said, her voice tinged with exertion as she held him in place. “Just give in father. Am I not called the reincarnation of Luthien? Who can truly resist me? Give in to your temptation.” Her father went still under her and she smiled, leaning forward and kissing him. Her tongue darted between his lips, pressing against his. This time he did not try to stop her, but he didn’t kiss back either. She grabbed his hands and put them on her naked torso, moving them along her sides and over her breasts, but as soon as she let go the hands dropped lifelessly back to the mattress.

She frowned as she broke the kiss, leaning back as she began to undo his robes, exposing his neck. She looked at his face. His eyes were blank as if he weretenitening to something far away. Her frown deepened. She hated when people ignored her. Slowly she pressed kisses along his neck as her fingers continued down his robe, undoing the cl. Hi. His eyes became alive again as he closed them an he let out a moan, exposing his neck to her.

“Finally you give in,” she said against his pale skin, gripping it with her teeth playfully as her hands slipped inside the robe. The slender hands moved along his sides, over his stomach, and began to go lower.

“No,” Elrond said suddenly and Arwen felt the hands grasp her hips and toss her to the side, her head bouncing off Estel’s hip. She let out a yip of pain as her father got to his feet and stumbled forward. He looked back at her in terror and dismay and even a little lust. “The ring must leave Rivendell,” he said, his voice shaking as he turned and left the room.

Arwen let out a sigh as she watched him leave before pulling the coverlet over her exposed form. She didn’t like being denied, but if he was going to be that obstinate about sticking to elven custom, she wouldn’t push it. Perhaps another time. She leaned back and began toying with Estel’s dark hair and thinking of her father’s recent actions and wondering about his last words. She shook her head. The Lord of Rivendell had been acting quite strange lately. He really did need to relax a bit more.