Tale of Two Brothers

Title: Tale of Two Brothers – Chapter 5, Hard Truths
Author: Larien Elengasse
Type: FPS, M/M Slash
Pairing: Elrohir/Glorfindel, Elladan/Erestor, Elladan/Elrohir, Glorfindel/Erestor
Rating: NC-17
Beta: Larian Elensar

WARNING: This story is rated NC-17 and contains male slash pairings and explicit sexual content. If you find this offensive, or you are under-age, I strongly suggest you stop now.

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they are the property of Tolkien with the exception of an original or two, and I am sure he would be horrified if he read this…

Feedback: Yes please: larienelengasse@yahoo.com

Summary/Notes: Erestor takes care of Glorfindel, Glorfindel reaches a turning point with Elrohir.

July 9th, 2950, Imladris

He was warm and comfortable, immersed in soft linen covering thick pillows, and a bed of fine goose down. He felt good, very good, better than he remembered feeling in a long while. He had slept well, but then, he always did in this bed.

“Wake, Erestor.”

He smiled, his clear gray eyes slowly blinked as he returned from his reverie. The delicious weight of his sometime lover and good friend pressed him further into the soft mattress, and he sighed, wrapping his arms around him and hooking one ankle around his. “Mmmm, you feel so good atop me, meldir, like it is where you are meant to be.”

“Perhaps it is, rwalaer.” The Eldar softly kissed his neck and nuzzled his hair aside.

By Elbereth, his voice was a smooth and thick as honey, seduction given words, and voice with which to speak them. He rocked his hips upward as he felt the warrior’s arousal slide against his own and he let out a quiet gasp as Glorfindel’s lips caressed his ear. “I love waking with you, malthen maethor.”

“You taste good, Counselor, rich and smooth like a ripe peach. I could get lost in your raven hair and your silken skin.” Glorfindel caressed his face, gently removing an errant wisp of hair that was stuck in his eyelashes. “You are a mystery to me, meldir. Al so so willing to give me what I so stubbornly withhold from you.”

Erestor’s lips brushed his lover’s jaw, “Aye, you are stubborn, and loyal, and kind, loviloving. You are many things, Glorfindel, but none of them are simple. I could never love a simple Elf, it would be too boring.”

Glorfindel chuckled, “Boring is not a word readily applied to us, meldir.” He caressed his face and his expression grew somber, “I do not want to hurt you, Erestor. I want to give you what you want, but I fear I am unable.”

Erestor smiled despite the hole that his friend’s honest words left in his heart, “You already have, meldir, you are as true a friend as I have ever had. Being with you brings me happiness. I can live with what I have, I can accept that you give me all that you can.”

His voice sounded small, as he replied, “What if it is not enough? How can this be fair to you?”

Erestor kissed him softly, “Love is not often fair. It is what it is, Glorfindel; I can accept that.” He lapped softly at his lips, “No more talk, meldiramin, finish what you have started, it would be unkind to wake me and leave me so wanting.”

Glorfindel opened his mouth to speak but was silenced by a burning kiss from the dark beauty beneath him. He melted into the kiss, and he gave his body, if not his heart, to his dearest friend. He moaned quietly as he felt Erestor’s nails rake down his back and his arousal thrust up into his. The Counselor’s lips sucked at his neck and nipped him as he pulled him closer, pressing the length of his body against the warrior.

Erestor growled into Glorfindel’s ear, “I want to be inside you, Glorfindel.”

Glorfindel lapped at his ear, he was incredibly aroused. He rolled to his back, pulling Erestor with him so that he rested on top of him. He spread his legs so that the Counselor rested between them, he whispered in reply, “Yes, take me, Erestor.”

Erestor took one of his nipples in his mouth, slowly sucking on it and nibbling on it as he struggled to hold still. He moaned as he blindly fumbled in the drawer next to the bed, retrieving a vial of oil and handing it to Erestor. He arched his powerful back, pressing his chest into the Noldor’s mouth as he groaned and wadded the bedcovers in his fists. He felt like he would burst, he struggled to control his breathing, his engorged arousal ached and throbbed and wept heavily.

Erestor coated his fingers with the oil and slid them inside his golden beauty, lovingly stroking him and preparing him. Glorfindel choked back a loud groan as Erestor stroked deep inside him, making him writhe beneath him and begin to whimper. As he manipulated his lover’s body, he watched him with adoration. His form was so powerful, but still elegant; the exaggerated arch of his torso as he lifted off the bed, the soft sighs and breathless whispers of encouragement that issued from his soft lips, the taut, rippling muscles covered with ivory skin. He thought to himself that Glorfindel was the most beautiful being in all of Arda, and he loved him. He positioned himself at his lover’s entrance and slowly thrust in, sliding inside tight, velvet heat, feeling wrapped in white-hot passion and heartbreaking love. He took the warrior’s rigid arousal in his hand and slowly stroked it in time with his thrusts. He thrust slowly, withdrawing almost completely before sheathing himself again. lea leaned down and whispered and moaned the warrior’s name against his lips and into his mouth as he watched his eyelids flutter, and increased the rhythm of his hand, until he felt the Eldar’s essence spill over his hand. He forced himself to keep his eyes open as he came, staring into the warrior’s face, feeling his sweet breath upon his lips as he groaned his name.

His face was covered in a shroud of raven hair, honeyed breath fluttered against his lips, and soft, musical moans floated into his ears. He wrapped his arms around his lover-friend, caressing his back and running his hands up into his hair. He trembled slightly and wore a relaxed and blissful expression upon his face. He laughed softly as Erestor playfully nibbled at his ear.

“Ai, Glorfindel, you are magnificent, meldir.” He lapped softly at his earlobe as he caressed his sides and his chest.

Glorfindel quietly replied, “It is you that are magnificent, Erestor. You are a remarkable lover and an incredible friend. What would I do without you?”

Erestor looked down into Glorfindel’s blue eyes, “It is I that would be hard pressed to do without you, meldiramin. You are very dear to me.”

They curled into each other’s arms and spent the rest of the day in bed.


September 15th, 2965, Imladris

The years rolled by and Glorfindel remained caught up in the strange tria wit with the twins and Erestor. Elrohir still came to his bed, still told him he loved him, and still left and went back to Elladan. Erestor remained his friend and lay with him when he wanted him and needed him. Erestor had other lovers as well, but they were casual acquaintances, not ones he held close to his heart as Glorfindel was. Glorfindel would readily admit that Erestor was a superior lover, skilled in the arts of the flesh and of the heart. Erestor would never tell Glorfindel how to handle the relationship with Elrohir; that was something the Counselor believed that the warrior needed to sort out himself.

As time marched on, he went about his duties as seneschal and leader of Imladris’ forces, and tried to make sense of the strange situation he found himself in. His allegiance to Elrond and his family had bound him closely to them, he swore an oath to Celebrían to watch over her family and protect them, and that was particularly important to him now that she had gone into the West. He sometimes cringed when he thought of that oath, and how he felt he had betrayed it by lying with Elrohir. He had been the one to strip the last remnant of innocence from the youngest twin; he had been the one to escort Elrohir into adulthood. He often asked himself why he had done it, why he had chosen to lay with the young Peredhil, and he found he had no answer, other than he wanted to.

Elrohir was an all-encompassing mystery to him, in many ways, he was like an open book, but in other ways, he was as inexplicable as Arda itself. Elrohir was always honest with him, he had never lied, even by omission, and he had always taken responsibility for his actions, even as an Elfling. He was the first one to volunteer for hard and dangerous missions, knowing that one day he would lead Imladris’ forces, and he would never ask anyone to do what he was not willing to do himself. Glorfindel knew that Elrohir blamed himself for the predicament they were all in, and he bore the weight of the responsibility as if it were solely his own; but it was not, and Glorfindel knew it. He owned part of the responsibility too; he should have seen it ng. ng. He knew Elladan had looked at him with more than brotherly love.

The ordeal with their mother had been the catalyst, and it was the turning point for all of them. They nearly lost their mother, and Elrohir nearly lost his life; that was when it all changed. Elrohir had explained to him that when he had been faced with death, he felt he could no longer deny what had lived in his heart all along; that he loved, wanted, and needed Elladan more than any other, and he always would.

He was on patrol with a small number of Elves that made up the border guard, and much to his dismay, Elrohir was one of that number. He had hoped for some time alone, away from both Elrohir and Erestor, time to sort out the conflicting feelings in his heart. For years he had avoided this, avoided emotional entanglements and relationships, and now it appeared he was hopelessly enmeshed.

On one hand, he knew Erestor was a perfect mate for him, Erestor understood him as no one else did, Erestor accepted him as he was, faults and all. The Counselor was not only a beautiful and skilled lover, but he was a true and honest friend as well. While Erestor was complicated and guarded, Glorfindel was open and straightforward, those opposing traits were what made their relationship work, each accepted the other for who they were and celebrated their differences. On the other hand, Elrohir was maddening, always leaping in with both feet, charging ahead, consequences be dammed; they were too similar. However, it was that brave, unflappable nature combined with irresistible, exotic beauty that drew Glorfindel to him. Erestor was an assertive lover, demanding, but always giving as much as he took. Elrohir was more passive, never afraid to ask for what he wanted, but would never just take it. Glorfindel always took the lead in their coupling; he was the more dominant one in their relationship. With Erestor, the lines between those roles were blurred, ever changing and shifting, which made for unexpected and always interesting experiences.

He sat on a rock sharpening his weapon and staring at his lover. Elrohir stood on a large rock with his hands clasped behind his back, surveying the horizon, watching for anything out of the ordinary. He was magnificently beautiful, his long sable hair had streaks of auburn in it and his skin was slightly tanned from time outdoors, unusual traits that pointed to his human blood. His hair was pulled into a single thick braid that ended just before the swell of his buttocks and was tied with a thin strap of leather. He wore dark gray, suede leggings and a silver tunic with a dark , le, leather doublet over the top. His gray cape flapped in the breeze and small wisps of hair blew across his enchanting face. He had a magnificent body, muscular yet lean, and tall and powerful. Glorfindel never got enough of his full, silken lips, his tight velvet heat, and the heartbreakingly beautiful moans that would issue from his mouth when they made love. He dreamed of how Elrohir’s eyelids fluttered and his breath came quickly as their desire reached fevered pitch, and the way his full lips parted as he whispered breathless approval and moaned his name. A throbbing ache blossomed in his loins as he stared at him. His heart broke in two when he thought of how he alone, would never be enough for him. He took a deep breath, shoving the tears that threatened to well in his eyes, deep down inside him. He was angry with himself, he was a warrior, yet he felt so weak; he chastised himself for wanting and needing Elrohir so much that he was willing to crawl through the dirt for him.

He sheathed his sword and stood up, hopping down from the rock he sat upon and walking through the camp. The watch was changing and he lay down upon hedroedroll, folding his hands behind his head and closing his eyes, hoping that sleep would overtake him.

When he opened them again it was dark and the night sky was adorned with stars. A soft breeze whispered through the tree boughs and the forest was alive with the sounds of the night. He felt something poke him in the shoulder and he lookedund;und; at the end of the stick that jabbed his shoulder, was his lover, silently beckoning him to follow him into the wood. The warrior stood and crept from the camp, silently picking hay tay through the dense forest of birch, following the silent form of his tormentor deep into the wood. He came upon a small break in the trees and stopped. He had lost sight of Elrohir a few moments before and he looked around for him before he felt his presence behind him. He turned to see him leaning back against a tree, standing with his legs spread and one hand extended in a silent invitation. He walked into the embrace of his lover, pressing his mouth to his ear and whispering words of love and devotion to him. He felt his soft, warm lips on his neck and his strong young hands on his back, pulling him closer as he whispered in his ear, “Amin mela le, Glorfindel.”

He whispered in return, “Amin mela le, Elrohir.” He wanted to add ‘more than anyone’ but knew it would be pointless for he would never hear those same words come from his lover. He brushed his lips against the curve of his ear before nibbling and sucking on its point, listening to the lyrical sighs and soft moans coming from him. It was pure, sweet music, music that set his heart and his body afire, music that he lost himself in, that he dedicated his entire being to.

“Please make love to me, Glorfindel.” He tilted his head back, exposing his neck to Glorfindel’s mouth as he tugged at the soft suede of his doublet. He breathlessly whispered, “I watched you sleep before I woke you; you are so beautiful in your sleep, as beautiful as the Valar.” He whimpered as the warrior’s hand slid down and cupped his arousal, rubbing his palm over the firm rise in his leggings.

Glorfindel could not speak; he could not find any words to describe how he felt when he was with him, words that would describe how much he wanted him, always. His heart was breaking into pieces, but his body urged him on, wanting and needing Elrohir more than anyone in lif life. He wanted to touch all of him at once, he wanted to climb inside him and stay there forever. The many years they had been together had done nothing to dull the flame that burned inside him for Elrohir, or to lessen the ache of never really having him, not all of him. He unlaced his leggings and slid his hand inside, taking his warm silken length and stroking it as he pressed his mouth to Elrohir’s, sliding his tongue inside and tasting him.

Elrohir moaned into the kiss, pressing his groin into the warrior’s hand. When Glorfindel pulled away from the kiss and removed his hand he whimpered, reaching for him with his mouth and tugging at his tunic. Glorfindel looked into the darkening gray eyes of his love, felt his sweet breath as he panted against him and a tear escaped his eye. Elrohir reached up for his face, softly whispering, “I am sorry, I am so sorry. I…”

Glorfindel silenced him with a kiss, hungrily consuming his mouth, forcing a soft moan from him, before pulling back. He growled, “No more talk.” He sank to his knees before him, pulling his leggings down and taking him into his mouth.

Elrohir groaned and clutched at the warrior’s shoulders, tilting his head back and staring with eyes glazed over with passion. He moaned ahimphimpered as the Eldar took him into the back of his throat and withdrew, sliding up and down his length, sucking and swallowing relentlessly. Glorfindel ran one of his hands up Elrohir’s torso and his lover caught it, drawing his fingers into his mouth and mimicking the Eldar’s action. The warrior withdrew his fingers and slid them back to his lover’s entrance, gently pressing inside and stroking deep within him.

Elrohir bit back a cry, arched his back, and began to thrust into his lover’s mouth, groaning and dropping his head. His fingers dug into the warrior’s shoulders as he clutched him tighter. His legs were trembling and he was thankful for the tree that he leaned against for if it were not there, he was sure he would not be able to stand. Glorfindel offered no gentle foreplay or teasing, only relentless, delicious torture, driving him upward to impossible heights of pleasure. His head was swimming and his knees were weak, and as he spilled himself down the warrior’s throat, he whispered his brother’s name before biting his lip.

It was too late; he had heard it.

Glorfindel knelt before him, looking at the ground, his head and shoulders bowed. Elrohir’s hand flew up to his mouth; he could not believe he had been so heartless, so careless. He began to sink to his knees and beg forgiveness when Glorfindel stood and turned his back to him. He tried to follow but the warrior held out his handstopstop him, the only words he said were, “No, leave me be, Elrohir.” He stalked into the wood, leaving the shamed Elf behind him.

Elrohir sank to his knees in the leaves and cried. He had hurt him again; it seemed to be the only thing he knew how to do anymore. Glorfindel had always loved him, he had mentored him and protected him, and this was his payment. Elrohir was ashamed of the pain he caused, ashamed of his weakness. He wrapped his arms around his own waist and quietly sobbed, slowly rocking back and forth and silently begging the departed warrior for forgiveness.


To be continued…


Meldir = friend
Rwalaer = Lusty one
Malthen Maethoroldeolden Warrior
Meldiramin = My friend
Amin mela le = I love you