Half the Distance

Title: Half the Distance
Series: Innocence Stripped Away
Chapter: Four : Time Will Burn
Author: Orchyd Constyne
Contact: soultornasunder@gmail.com
Website: http://www.hithanaur.net/
Update List: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/nairn_orchyd/
Beta: Fimbrethiel, Alex, Half Elf Lost

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Imladris, Spring, Third Age 2086

Elrohir sulked by the window, curled up on the divan he had long ago claimed as his. "Tell me why we have to hide?"

"Come now, tôren," Elladan sighed as he took Elrohir's hand and crouched down beside his brother. "We are not hiding. We are being respectful of others."

"I do not like it," Elrohir continued to protest. "Ada has never asked us to do this--"

Elladan's cheeks coloured lightly. "He has, only I took care of it and you never noticed."

Elrohir's eyes narrowed. "I am not your plaything or your kept pet, Elladan. I am capable of being a full partner in our bond."

"I know," Elladan murmured as he kissed his brother's temple sweetly. "It is only because I know how hurt you are now that I tried to spare your feelings all the other times."

"I do not like being made to feel as if what we do is wrong."

Elladan stood, pulling Elrohir with him. "You know that is not Ada's intent. It is only because Círdan does not share our proclivities that he asks us to be careful, not to hide."

"Very well," the younger twin finally said. "Are we to not touch each other in his presence either? Pretend brotherly affection? Am I not to press you to the wall with my hand down your trousers as I plunder your mouth?"

"You are terrible," Elladan ground out as he captured his brother's pink lips in savage ferocity. It was a brief struggle of tongues before they parted, panting and aroused. "We will not have anything done before tomorrow if you continue to provoke me."

Elrohir smirked as he licked his lips. "I can assure you at least one thing can be done before tomorrow if I *do* continue to provoke you."

Elladan swatted his twin on the backside playfully. "Clean up your toys and I promise to reward you for your dutiful obedience."

The twins began to clean the room of their lifestyle: shackles were safely stowed in trunks, whips hung back on hooks in their small playroom off the main bedroom, plugs and phalluses wiped of oil and placed into the deeps of drawers. As they changed the sheets, removing the seed stained linens, Elrohir pondered the upcoming delegations. "I know that Círdan and Galdor do not participate in such play, but everyone knows what type of harem Thranduil keeps."

"Aye," Elladan agreed as he smoothed out the crisp, white sheet. "He is supposedly bringing his son with him."

"The Prince Legolas?" Elrohir asked, fluffing their pillows and tossing them to the head of the bed. "He is not much older than us, is he?"

Elladan spread out the quilt their mother had given them as a bonding gift. "Perhaps a century, no more."

"Then why is it we have never met him?"

"You might as well ask why it is Thranduil has never graced the valley with his presence. I do not know; no one speaks of the King or his son unless it is rumours of his slaves or the darkening of his realm." Elladan threw himself back onto the newly made bed, kicking his boots to the floor as he rested his head on his laced hands. "I do remember Legolas used to frequent Imladris, many years ago, but we were always with Iaurada and Iaurnana in Lórien. I do not know who it was he came to see so often, but one day he ceased coming altogether."

Elrohir had shed his clothes while his brother had been speaking, and he now crawled up beside him on the bed. "We have cleaned our room, hidden our life away behind lock and key..."

A wicked, hungry smile spread over Elladan's face. "I thought you wished to discuss the absent prince, dearest."

"I am sure he is just as depraved as his father, which should be delicious fun, if we can still play while Círdan and his prudish delegation sleep." Elrohir bent to his brother's leggings, expertly unlacing them with his teeth, revealing the ample erection beneath the folds of fabric. "I would so adore having the paddle strike me as I take you into my throat, brother," he breathed hotly over the damp tip. "And maybe the golden prince would fulfil that desire for me."

Elladan hissed as his twin's hot, wet mouth engulfed his already aching sex, and he lost all thought of Thranduil, Legolas, or even his own name. The only thing that he knew was what he felt, and the combination of love, lust, and suction were intoxicating.

*****

Erestor was troubled. It was not a guess, not a feeling; it was a certainty. Elrond effortlessly navigated the grounds around his home, slipping through trees, over tiny brooks, and neared a small glade with a large waterfall. It was not a clearing many of the Elves who lived in Imladris visited, but it was a glade Erestor always retreated to when his soul was at odds with his life.

As he entered the glade, he was rewarded with the sight of his slender, wiry Councilor sitting near the bank of the pond with his arms wrapped around his legs. Erestor did not seem to notice, or care, that he still wore his burgundy robes of office, which were now smeared with dirt and grass. He quietly approached the deathly still figure and settled in next to him, crossing his ankles and leaning back on his hands.

"I remember the day I brought you here," Elrond began softly. "I had humiliated you. I had not meant to, and I hope you have forgiven me for my rashness, but I wanted to soothe your wounded spirit. Remember, Erestor? I bound you, covered your eyes, and marched you through the grounds." He smiled up at the canopy of green that was highlighted by the full brightness of the moon. "But the look of wonder, of delight and awe, in your face was worth the trek."

"And I did the same to him as you did to me," Erestor said in a rough, unused voice. "I posed him, brought you in, and humiliated him without thought." He turned stormy eyes to his dearest friend. "But you had not meant to hurt me. I cannot say the same about my intent."

Elrond sighed. "Erestor. I made mistakes with you. Many of them, I think. We spent over two thousand years together. Think on that for a moment, would you? You were my friend for years before Celebrimbor asked if I wanted you as my own. You were my Tumbo for years before I recognized the love I held for you. And you were then my lover. So many years, ervell, which we had to explore our boundaries, our love, and our desires. In all that time, mistakes were made on both our parts, and yet, neither of us holds resentment nor guilt over the experience. To do so is to taint what we have. (dear one)

"Glorfindel is still so new to you, but it is not just the newness that leads you into such troubles. You hide from him in a way you never hid from me, and I am not certain why." Elrond finished speaking and a heavy silence fell around the couple. The Peredhel was ancient, learned in the art of patience, and he could sit in the glade beside his friend all night if that was what it took to rid Erestor of his pains.

"The preparations for the Prince's quarters are almost done," Erestor said finally, breaking the quiet of the glade with his deep rumble.

Elrond nodded. "Are all preparations going to be ready in time?"

Erestor smiled a ghost of a smile. "Some preparations may never be ready, meldir."

"It has been a long time coming, these preparations."

"I never thought such preparations would need to be made," Erestor confessed as he stretched out his legs. "The son is so very different from the father, though they are also very much the same."

The Peredhel leaned over, letting his head fall to Erestor's shoulder. "What do you know of the father, Erestor?"

"I know enough. I did venture into that dark forest to retrieve my mate, did I not?"

Elrond shook his head. "You were there but one night."

Erestor's head came to rest atop Elrond's. "I made a terrible decision while in that forest of spiders," he began in a whisper. "Thranduil sought Glorfindel's submission, but I would not allow such a thing."

"Why not? I have many memories of allowing another Ingor to have use of you."

"He is *mine*, Elrond," Erestor snapped angrily. "Thranduil dared to tempt him. You know what Glorfindel can endure, what Thranduil is able to give! I chose a different route, only now I believe it to have been a terrible, unredeemable mistake."

Elrond let out a long breath and took Erestor's hand in his. "The thing about mistakes, meleth, is that we learn from them. Do not repeat the past. And all mistakes are redeemable."

Erestor lifted his eyes to the starry night sky, trying to hide something from Elrond. As the Peredhel gazed up at his old lover, he saw a wet streak form along Erestor's cheek.

"Nay, Elrond," he managed as he stood. "Deeds cannot be undone, and mistakes cannot be unmade," Erestor said before slipping into the shadows of the forest surrounding the glade.

Elrond's ears rang with the sound of the waterfall, but his heart hammered with an emotion he had not felt in many, many years.

Fear.

TBC...