Leonalta (Radiant Shadow)

Part Four: Consummation
In the subdued atmosphere of the dining hall in the Last Homely House, Elrond Half-elven was silently weeping in helpless gratitude, head buried in his arms upon the table. He could not harness the overwhelming emotions, shamefully aware that his joy had been brought about at the expense of Legolas' health and well-being, and cared not who witnessed his display of raw feeling. Though he knew it was inappropriate to be happy over such a horrendous series of events, he was unable to stifle his gladness for the outcome produced. Wordlessly he thanked the Valar for Legolas and swore to hold him in his heart as dearly as he did his own children.

In sympathy, Arwen rose and went to him, her own tears raining upon him as she encircled her father's stooped shoulders in her arms and rested her cheek upon his bowed head. Aragorn joined her, silently soothing a hand over her shuddering back as she sobbed and mumbled incoherent words of pleading and encouragement against her father's hair. A pang of guilt assailed the man for he knew she wept not over the Wood Elf's plight or her brother's decision, but for the pain she must inflict on her Adar when at last she revealed to him her own choice, made not so long ago. The ring of Barahir was not upon her finger but rather on a chain around her neck, concealed from view beneath her garments, for she had not found courage sufficient to speak of this with Elrond.

Celonlir stood and moved to the opposite side of the table where Elrohir sat and offered the younger twin his hand. "Muindor," he said brusquely, struggling to hold in his own flood of emotions after hearing the recount of his brother's rescue.

Elrohir rose also but did not take the proffered arm, instead embracing the Sindarin prince in a tight hug. "Muindor," he repeated, smiling as he stepped back. "I cannot tell you how much I love Legolas for Elladan's sake, and in turn bear goodwill toward you because of Legolas."

"Well said," approved Glorfindel. "This is a grand day! Erestor, I think we must make plans for a feast of celebration."

"So it would seem," agreed the seneschal, wiping discreetly at his midnight eyes. He got up from the table and squeezed Elrond's biceps in passing as he moved toward the door. "We were both right, mellon vrûn. (old friend) There was someone unknown yet dear to him in deadly peril and he made the decision without waiting to take your counsel."

At this point, Lindir broke down completely and collapsed in noisy bawling against Glorfindel's shoulder. The Balrog Slayer had no choice but to console the minstrel, not that he was opposed to having the gentle-hearted singer in his arms. It was just that he was not sure if Lindir was disconsolate over Legolas' bonding with Elladan because he desired the Wood Elf or because he hungered after Elladan. He had just decided it did not matter either way, since he was now the beneficiary of the harpist's affections, when Lindir lifted his tear streaked countenance and spoke through his ragged, jarring sobs.

"Oh, Glorfindel, is this not the most romantic story you have heard in centuries? I shall compose an epic ballad to preserve it for all eternity!"

The veteran of numerous battles and dire catastrophes was forced to duck his head against the minstrel's shoulder in order to stifle his response, for he did not wish to embarrass Lindir by bursting into ringing laughter. As it was, Glorfindel's quaking frame and tight hold around the surprised singer looked and sounded the same as grief ravaged wailing.

Into this confusing scene strode the King of the Woodland realm, wild eyed and frantic. He had out run his entourage and arrived at the Last Homely House just as Elrohir was finishing his part of the story. With no one present to grant him leave to enter, Thranduil decided he was of high enough status to grant it to himself. He wandered through the front hall and picked up the tell-tale sounds of grief and woe, honing in on them like a beacon. Throwing open the doors to the dining hall, he took in the despairing sobs and copious tears and in his worry ridden heart made the wrong conclusion.

"Ai Legolas! Not my Tuiw Laes!" (Baby Sprout) He dropped to his knees and beat upon the ground with his fists. "You cannot do this!" he raged at all the Valar in general and Námo in particular. "I will come hence and take him from your cold, dark halls, you accursed meddler!"

"Ada!" Celonlir exclaimed and ran to him, horrified. "Be at peace, he lives!"

Shocked into composure by Thranduil's abrupt intrusion and heart-wrenching display of parental despair, Elrond pulled free of Arwen and hurried to the King's bent and bellowing form. "It is true, Thranduil, Legolas will recover. Please forgive this…this exhibition of over-wrought souls. It has been a harrowing time for all involved." The Lord of Imladris spoke firmly and his steady tone gained the King's attention.

"You speak the truth, Elrond?" Thranduil demanded in a shaking voice as he allowed his eldest to help him to his feet.

"It is so, Ada, you will see for yourself soon enough," assured Celonlir.

"Then why all this mourning ululation?" demanded the upset father, sweeping his hand out to include everyone's sniffly, hiccuppy lack of composure.

"There is joy to be found, mellonen," (my friend) Elrond nodded and smiled in bemusement at the moisture he wiped from his cheeks, "but there was much endured to reach it. We have both of us narrowly escaped losing a son; that is reason enough to shed tears. Yet let us take comfort in the fact that each of our families shall instead become enriched."

"I do not understand," growled Thranduil. "Why must the Noldorin folk always talk in such long-winded riddles? Just tell me: where is my Tuiw Laes?"

"Oh!" Celonlir's eyes bulged, remembering where Legolas was and what he was currently doing. It would not do for their father to find out about Elladan by discovering the pair joined in bonded bliss. "You cannot see him just now, Adar."

"Why not?"

"Nay, that would not be advisable," chimed in Elrohir, shaking his head vigourously as if doing so would discourage any such notion from taking root in the King's thoughts.

"Indeed, Legolas is certain to be tired and in need of rest for a time," grinned Glorfindel with a wink and pinched Lindir's bottom, eliciting a startled yelp and a rapid flush of crimson over the minstrel's features that was not all due to embarrassment.

Arwen tried but failed to silence a lurid giggle over this prelude to seduction and Aragorn rolled his eyes heaven-ward, presented as he was with further proof of his fiancée's obsession with male elven coupling.

By this time Thranduil was frowning, for he was no fool and could figure out the implications plainly enough. He rounded with narrowed eyes and fisted hands upon his first-born. "Who is it?" he demanded. "That inu-raug, Gelirnell? (she-devil, Merry Bell) Or perhaps his archery instructor Anariell, (Sun Maiden) that conniving social climber? Tell me!"

"N…Nay, Ada, it is neither one," Celonlir defended these worthy soldiers under his captaincy though it was true both lusted openly after his little brother. It did not escape his notice that his father had not included Ûrrusc (Fire Fox) in the list, a solemn, dignified male warrior and Celonlir's second in command, who had desired Legolas for centuries. The elder prince had become quite pale and everyone else in the vicinity edged discreetly away from the royals.

Thranduil took a deep breath, held it as everyone silently counted with him to pae (ten), then exhaled as he uncurled his fingers and pressed them against his eyes, repeating the breathe-and-count technique Galion had taught him for stress control many many aeons ago. The king lowered his hands and smiled kindly at his son. "It is well, ion vinui, (first son) just tell me who it is. I will not be angry with you; I give my word of honour."

Celonlir swallowed and flicked a nervous glance at first Elrohir and then Elrond. "I think we should allow Legolas to give you the news, Adar. He is no child, after all, and it is his responsibility to reveal to you his heart's desire, not mine."

"Nay, this is nonsense," argued Elrohir, suddenly angry that anyone might be other than overjoyed to learn their child had chosen to bond with his brother, even if said child was also male.

"Elrohir, it is not your place…" Elrond attempted to interrupt.

"It is Elladan. They are completely devoted to one another, King Thranduil," the younger twin would not be deterred and continued, "and it will lift your heart to see the love between them. They are consummating the union even as we speak."

A very dense and unbelievably tense silence filled the room. Indeed, it seemed to its occupants that even the birds had stopped singing and the Bruinen ceased spilling over the chasm into the hidden vale's fair lands. Several seconds passed by as Thranduil stared in glassy, glazed disbelief at the younger of Elrond's twin sons. No one knew what to think or what to do. It was safe to say everyone had temporarily suspended respiration until the King gave some indication of his state of mind.

And so he complied.

With unforeseen rapidity, Thranduil's eyes rolled back in his head and he keeled over in a dead swoon, landing on the floor with a stentorious crash reminiscent of a mighty beech felled by a dwarven axe.

Completely oblivious to all the external drama and commotion taking place in the dining hall, Legolas and Elladan were engrossed in their own predicament.

As soon as Aragorn had shut the doors, Elladan had scooped up his Wood Elf and deposited him carefully on the bed. He tossed the soaked robe back onto the floor and gently took up the afflicted leg. It was evident the fractured bones in the calf were again misaligned and Legolas was biting his lower lip to prevent voicing the discomfort created by the careful palpating of his beloved's fingers.

"I am sorry, Legolas. It will need to be re-set," Elladan finally spoke. He reached to the bedside table and began to open the small coloured jars, mixing several of the powders together in a glass. Into this he poured ample water and stirred it vigourously as Legolas watched.

"Is that the same formula you used last time?" he asked, of two minds where the potent drug was concerned. On the one hand, he was quite weary of pain and had no wish to be incapacitated by wrenching agony for the next several hours, especially when he so longed to conclude their interrupted love-making. Yet Legolas did not want his reactions impeded either, for he desired to experience every moment of their bonding with a clear mind rather than dulled senses. How would it be to share such a wondrous event with his beloved and not be able to recall it the next day? "I do not want to fall asleep too soon."

"I promise that will not happen," Elladan smirked and leaned down to kiss his impatient lover, "at least not until I am done with you."

Legolas smiled too and permitted his beloved Leönalta to raise him up and administer the potion, compliantly swallowing all of it down despite its acerbic aftertaste. "Some miruvor would make it work all the quicker and then you can get this over with so we may go down to the elm grove, yes?" he pleaded.

"Nay," Elladan disagreed. "I almost lost you to an overdose the third day you were here. The miruvor sometimes reacts quite strangely with one of those herbs and you have already shown yourself sensitive to its effects."

"I do not remember that," Legolas' eyes were wide in alarm.

"And I am glad of it; you were so terribly ill. However, a small glass of wine would not harm you." He went inside to retrieve the golden vintage and handed his beloved a small goblet with little more than a mouthful, just enough to chase away the taste of the medicine.

"What now?" Legolas asked, already feeling a warm slowness seeping through his bones and easing the jagged pain hammering within his injured leg.

"Oh," sighed Elladan, fondling his lover's relaxed genitalia carefully. "Now I get to play with you, teasing your body into an absolute frenzy of erotic arousal until you beg in tears for me to penetrate you fully and make you mine forever."

Legolas shivered and carefully spread his healthy leg aside to encourage this plan, wrapping both arms around Elladan's neck as his lover bent low to claim his lips once more. When the kiss ended Legolas did not wish to let go and so he did not, lightly pressing his lips all over Elladan's beaming countenance and laughing as his beloved tried to squirm out of his hold.

Elladan resigned himself to captivity and changed his strategy, lapping and sucking a fine plum coloured passion mark on the archer's long slender neck. A brief panic hit him when Legolas sighed and arched his head back in order to allow easier access, for it recalled too vividly that moment in the cell when he had first looked into the silvan's tormented eyes. Quickly Elladan distracted his mind from such dark thoughts by licking his way up to the pink tip of a perfectly pointed ear and nibbling it lightly while one hand found and squeezed a tight, hard nipple. This, he had learned, drove Legolas to complete abandon and this day was no exception.

The archer sang out a garbled combination of syllables in which Elladan's name was haphazardly blended with assorted moans and wails of rising excitation. He writhed under the dark haired elf's touch, trying with all his might to drag his lover down atop him. Elladan was not co-operating, however, and reluctantly Legolas finally let go for he found himself with insufficient strength to continue the struggle, his arms falling limp beside him on the mattress, relaxing in complete submission, trusting Leönalta in whatever he might wish to do to him.

And that was temptation on a level Elladan found extremely difficult to resist. The urge to take Legolas immediately was strong, yet he fought against it, for the bone still needed tending and this was not how or where his beloved wished their first joining to be. Elladan heaved a dramatic sigh and wrenched himself away from the enticing form, noting with pride that his lover was fully erect even after such a small amount of foreplay. Of course, he was too, and Elladan flushed with even greater joy to see that Legolas was admiring him in exactly the same manner.

"First things first," he said stoically and sat on the edge of the mattress. With quick, adept fingers he unbuckled the clasps of the brace and removed it, worrying a little over the bruises and sore spots the leather straps had rubbed on Legolas' skin. The silvan had not complained of these even once. "You did not tell me the harness was chaffing so badly," he said. "I will have to do something to cushion it."

"It is not so bad and really there is little that can be done. It is bound to scrape the skin when I am moving about. I cannot stay motionless, Elladan, or I would go mad. Promise you will not say anything to your father or he will try to make me give up the staff and…" His words stopped instantly as Elladan manipulated the displaced ends of broken bone, re-seating them flush one against the other. A sharp breath left Legolas' lungs and he ground out an irritated growl. "You might have warned me," he grumbled, but really he was pleased it was over. The shooting stars of agony receded as rapidly as they had exploded, for the drug did its work well.

Elladan soothed a cool ointment over the raw blisters and reattached the harness and brace, locking the injured leg in position. "Sorry. Your thoughts were distracted and that seemed the best opportunity. Now then, you will rest and recover from the procedure while I see to a few pressing matters. You are not to try and get up, agreed?"

"Where are you going? I thought we would spend the whole day together. What are you going to do? I cannot rest if my mind is filled with such questions, Elladan," Legolas complained, but already his eyes were growing weary of staying in focus and his lover's face became a fuzzy blur. "Ai, you were not supposed to put me to sleep," he whined softly, already adrift in dreams, and within a few heartbeats was dozing lightly.

Elladan smiled, for this was just as he had intended. He had become quite accomplished in herb-lore over the time Legolas had been under his care and knew to an exact degree the specific combination and quantity of drugs required to induce a gentle slumber that would prove refreshing but not result in lethargic disorientation as its effects wore off. He had not wished to ruin Legolas' short repose by setting the bone while he was unconscious for that would only have jarred him awake in a most unpleasant way. Elladan had different plans for how to rouse Legolas.

Everything must be perfect if only for this one short span of hours in all the time since the creation of Arda, even unto its ending. The need to provide for Legolas the most erotically romantic experience his mind could invent had become nearly an obsession for Elladan. This consummation was something he yearned for with equal urgency and he hoped to convey that compulsion to Legolas; it was as necessary for his soul's continuation as it was for Legolas'. He longed to erase the doubts and fears from his beloved's mind and repair the tattered soul for good and all, to possess the silvan completely and hold him within the protection of his embrace, safe from harm for ever more.

The archer never mentioned what he had endured during his captivity and Elladan was certainly not going to press him to do so. There was no need; they both knew what had happened. The physical signs of the assaults had healed rapidly in the normal elven way, but the silvan's thoughts were beset with turmoil and his heart still bled with the deep-seated shame and humiliation wrought by the violation of his body.

As he had begun to recoup his health and discovered that his attraction to Elladan was more than a spiritual one, Legolas fell more and more frequently into depression and malaise. He was confused by his beloved's refusal to initiate intimate intercourse. They petted and stimulated each other to completion frequently, this was true, but never would Elladan suggest penetration. Legolas believed it was because the taint of his foul assailants marked his flesh and his lover was repulsed by it.

Whenever these dark thoughts threatened to undermine the progress the silvan was making, Elladan let him speak of it in whatever way he was able. Usually this was a veiled request for restatement of the vow given that first day they had met. It did not wound Elladan to see these doubts arise, for he knew his own reluctance to couple with Legolas was the cause. He was determined, however, not to force upon the silvan warrior adherence to a pledge made during such extreme conditions, for Legolas' mind had barely been his own. Yet as the days passed his own heart began to ache with the pain of their separation and he came to understand that what he had meant as a means to ensure the validity of their bond was in fact hurting them both.

So on this day he would end their torment and at last permit himself to claim his beloved. Elladan hastily threw on some leggings and a shirt and set about recreating the elm grove into a lover's haven. He carried abundant pillows and blankets to lay upon the grass, first painstakingly removing every pebble and twig from the ground beneath the trees. He made sure the makeshift bed was soft enough. He inspected it to insure that no leaves of stems or little bugs got within its silken covers, for while Legolas might revel in being naked in the grass, Elladan had no wish for such mundane examples of Yavanna's creations to work they way into crevices and cavities in which nature never intended they should go.

He gathered the amber wine, a basket of Legolas' favourite foods, the jar of soothing ointment, water for washing, and clean robes for afterward. Elladan picked an armload of Buddleia blossoms and tied bunches to the branches because the silvan warrior loved their sweet scent. He even coaxed a pair of yellow songbirds to roost on the limbs above the bower, for Legolas had been thrilled to see and hear them, such creatures not being residents of his homeland. When all of this was done, Elladan carried his sleeping Wood Elf down to the transformed grove.

Legolas had stirred a bit but then snuggled back into Elladan's protective clasp, his eyes gaining sharper focus as he breathed in deeply to ensure by both sight and scent that it was Leönalta and no other who carried him. Since the captivity, he had been wary of physical contact with anyone save Elladan; even his brother's hugs he endured with hesitant restraint. That was one of the many small changes in the archer's personality Celonlir hoped would vanish over time. By the time Elladan laid him in the sumptuous nest of silk and pillows, Legolas had drifted back into a comfortable, light dream state.

Elladan settled beside his lover and just watched for a time, for Legolas was stunningly beautiful and the elder twin could hardly believe he had won this fair creature's heart. The injuries had been so severe it had been impossible at first to guess what the Wood Elf really looked like, but as each day passed and healing progressed, the archer had grown more and more alluring. Now here was, an image of physical perfection in face and form, and Legolas found only Elladan worthy of his affections.

"I cannot think what I have done to warrant such generosity from Eru," he whispered, bending close to his lover's ear and taking a tentative taste of its pointed tip. He smiled when this evoked a shuddery gasp and Legolas' head canted over to encourage more of the same. "I do not care how or why I was brought to you or whether it was the other way round, not really. It is enough to have you here. It is enough to love you. To receive your heart in return, this is an abundance of grace I never expected."

With that, Elladan took the point between his lips and sucked it, running his tongue over the sensitised pinnacle in a seductive rhythm as he hummed a soulful groan of desire.

Legolas sighed, a sweet sound just shy of a whispery moan, and permitted a smile to drift across his features as his consciousness gradually honed in on the delicious sensation.

Not satisfied with this, Elladan's fingers caressed the line of the archer's elegant throat, paused over the accelerating pulse, moved down over his chest, and tweaked the rising red buds adorning the firm, sculpted muscles there. Legolas' flesh was as delectably succulent as a dish of raspberries and cream and Elladan intended to partake to his fill. He left the ear and kissed his way to an erect nipple, plunging his tongue against it, sucking gently, breathing over the wet, warm tantalising skin.

That brought Legolas awake with a warbling wail of pure delight as his body arched up into the feasting mouth and his hands reached out instinctively for Elladan, grabbing unerringly onto his lover's proud, hard erection where it pressed against his side. The silvan's eyes focused as a giddy smile lit his features, turning when Elladan's lips released him, meeting his beloved's fiery gaze with an equally lusty gleam. Their mouths lunged for union and joined forcefully, tongues duelling and hot breath passing between their aching lungs. All the while, Legolas worked the distended organ filling his fist, relishing the thick, solid weight of it and the strong provacative aroma of the pearly fluid seeping from the tiny orifice, coating his hand, infiltrating his skin.

Then Elladan broke free with a grating cry as he seized silvan's wrist to stop the exquisite stimulation before he spent too soon. "Ai, not so fast!" he panted out, kissing the palm of the eager hand and placing it over his heart. "I want to take my time; I want to spill inside you."

"I want that, too" Legolas shuddered and his cock twitched between his thighs just to think of it. He pulled his beloved in for another long kiss, burying his eager hands in the long ebony tresses spilling over his torso and tickling his tummy.

Elladan's hands were back at pulling and squeezing the ripe, rosy nipples as his beloved strained to enhance the contact , whimpering pleadingly as he wriggled and tugged to get closer. Elladan once more broke free and sat back, observing in enthralled wonder as Legolas' arms fell to the ground, splayed out above his head, and he growled in disappointment.

Then the lapis coloured eyes flashed wickedly and the slender, talented hands repositioned, one to fondle the inflamed pleasure pips as the other surrounded his long svelte shaft. Elladan did not know where to focus his attention: the index finger slowly circling and then flicking the protruding points or the hand working the pink column of rigid flesh. The sound of that hand, slapping faintly as it pumped the engorged cock, decided the dilemma and Elladan watched the head grow darker and wetter with each pass as Legolas' hips began to thrust into the pulsing rhythm.

"Stop!" Elladan abruptly called out, torn between the excitement of seeing Legolas lose himself in orgasmic pleasure, creamy semen cascading over his thighs and fist, and wanting to know the sensation of that slippery, smoky fluid coating his own hand as Legolas came. When his beloved obeyed instantly, trembling and gasping, hands disengaging, the dark-haired warrior's pupils dilated in unhidden excitation over this unlooked for control over Legolas' responses. Elladan licked his lips.

"You must not do that. Hear me; you are mine, Miphileg. Skin and bone and flesh and blood, all mine. Heart and soul and thoughts, these belong to me now." His words held the Wood Elf enscorcelled, mutely nodding assent, eyes locked upon his, and he smiled as he pointed to the protruding organ rising from the nest of golden curls, waiting until those eyes followed the digit there. "Your cock is mine; not a drop of seed must fountain from its tip lest I command it."

Elladan dipped his head down and licked the weeping crown of the slickened head, tasting and savouring the sensation as his tongue ran over the smooth, throbbing glans, thrilling to the strangled cry that erupted from Legolas' throat as he pivoted his arse off the soft bed of quilts to plunge deeply into his lover's throat. Elladan let him, delighting in the unbridled passion surging through his lover as Legolas sought his release. When it was imminent, Elladan clamped around the base and pinched the ducts shut.

The silvan wailed pitifully and twitched in helpless need as the tongue continued to lave the tingling slit and a second set of fingers played delicately with the heavy balls clustered at the root. A rumbling vibration tore through him, spreading through every nerve and and sinew of his being with maddening exhilaration, and Legolas expelled every ounce of breath in his body in a long moan of tormented craving. "Please, Leönalta, please."

The desperation in the entreaty moved Elladan and he relented, taking away all contact and staring in avid appreciation at the dark maroon cock piercing the air all shiny and slippery with saliva and milt. He shivered, imagining that sleek, solid shape spearing him instead. Aye, that too shall be mine to enjoy, but not this time. His heart fairly sang in jubilation, knowing this was but the beginning of bonded bliss and countless years stretched before them, thousands of moments to spend exploiting the intimate pleasures of such union.

"I want you, Elladan, will you deny me always?" this barely audible lament, welling with unshed tears, tore through the hazy gauze of racing desire and focused the elder elf on his partner with an intense spike of remorse.

"Oh Legolas, I will not refuse anything you desire," he promised gathering the trembling body close and covering whatever spot of skin was available with kisses. "I love you and I want to make you mine. Trust me; I promise I will not disappoint your expectations."

Legolas remained silent and tense, for how could he say that his expectation was that Elladan would stop, as he had done each time, too overcome with disgust to insert his rigid penis where others' had emptied their dirty, distended cocks before. A searing band of anguish constricted around his heart as Elladan disentangled from their embrace and sidled away. He felt certain he could not endure much longer, knowing he was too ruined to ever really become one with his soul-mate, and a dry sob shook him to the core.

Thus Legolas was completely unprepared when hands rolled him to his side and grasped his rear, parting the mounds to permit a fiery, probing tongue to tease the exposed anus. He gave a hoarse cry and jerked under the sensual massage. The mobile muscle danced around the tight ring, tickling the puckered hole repeatedly until Legolas began to relax under the insistent liquid pressure, trilling out a glad cry of surprise. The image of Elladan crouched behind him, hot red tongue blanketing his most vulnerable zone with heat that was simultaneously comforting and erotic burst upon his mind. He shifted the braced leg higher, hoping Elladan would do more. Almost instantly the tongue wormed inside him.

"Leönalta," he whispered and tried to move as best he could to encourage the intruding organ. He could feel Elladan's breath on his arse as he panted with the effort and it took great restraint for the archer to refrain from manipulating his cock in concert with the pulsing penetration. His hands could not reach his beloved and in frustration he snatched at the coverlets beneath him, holding on as if he feared to be forcibly torn from the place.

The tongue withdrew and with a suddenness born of intense yearning Elladan lunged forward, looming over Legolas as he lifted the damaged leg out of the way and and rocked the dripping head of his hard cock against the small opening. "Miphileg," he panted in strained urgency, "I have no wish to hurt you. Tell me if it does. Promise!" His frenzied visage, filled with longing and love, peered into the silvan's and held the desire-darked navy eyes as Legolas nodded his assent, too overwhelmed to speak.

Elladan inhaled and held the air, pushing forward with slow, relentless force, breaching the ring of guarding muscle with a loud grunt of triumph as Legolas bucked back against the intrusion. Another deep breath and then Elladan thrust hard, trusting the light in his lover's adoring gaze, relishing the sensation of penetrating the hot, tight channel. Gulping greedily for breath, he paused, arms shaking with the effort to restrain himself, and took a moment to look at what he had done. It was exhilarating; his solid length of excited flesh buried up the archer's arse, their sweaty flesh locked together, the sensitive skin of his balls just laying on the firm, round cheeks, Legolas' glittering eyes bathing him in enraptured love and wanton surrender.

"More," Legolas demanded, shifting enough to make the thick cock jerk inside him and rub against his sweet spot. They ground out matched exclamations of languishing deprivation and simultaneously burst into motion, Legolas pushing back, Elladan shoving forward, working with all their strength to achieve this ultimate union of body and soul.

Elladan did not bother to attempt forming any coherent answer to his love's demand, pulling back and slamming into the burning friction, thrusting in and out, pounding against the willing body, lost in the sensation of fucking this amazing, erotic, beautiful, brave, resilient warrior in his possession. He found himself working to elicit more of his mate's squirming, heaving, writhing contortions and their accompanying cries of mounting ecstasy. He listened as Legolas repeatedly shouted his name, watched spellbound as he pounded against the ground with his fists, clawing at the covers, tried to brace himself with his healthy leg to enhance the penetration.

The delicious pressure built within him, compounding with every thrust, collecting in his penis and swelling it until he was sure he would never be able to pull it out of the confining muscles gripping so relentlessly. Elladan sang out in jubilation, his spirit ready to break loose and mingle with his lover's the moment his seed shot from the aching pinnacle of his engorged cock. He reached for Legolas' hand, uncurling the rigid fist and entwining their fingers together, seeking to look into his eyes at the instant of their mutual culmination. The blistery expression of imploring ferocity that greeted him jogged Elladan's memory; he had forbidden Legolas to come until so instructed.

With a desperate gasp he untangled their hands and frantically reached under the braced leg, wrapping his fist around the archer's neglected shaft, pounding the rock-hard extremity in concert with his pulsing penetrations.

"Now," he commanded and with a violent shudder and long cry Legolas came, spurting over his hand and into the sheets. Elladan gasped as the archer's muscles clenched tight around his cock and coaxed him into an orgasm of dancing light and searing pleasure. With euphoric ecstasy his streaming semen filled the rippling channel and oozed around his inflamed penis. He wished it never had to end even as the electrifying scintillations coursing through his limbs subsided and his frantic lunging slowed.

Elladan lowered his body atop his lover, resting his stomach against a sweaty hip and his forehead on a damp, hair plastered shoulder, still holding the archer's softening cock, his still buried inside the slick confinement of Legolas' flexing channel. He stayed that way for a time, recovering his strength, and by the time his pulse was back to a more sedate rhythm Elladan's cock had hardened anew, merely by considering what he had just done. And so he took Legolas again, slowly and deliberately and with such a deepening love that it brought the silvan to tears when he spilled the second time.

They remained in the elm grove through the remainder of Anor's hours and for the entirety of Ithil's reign.

Continued