The Cold
folder
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,169
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,169
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
The Cold
The Cold
Pairing : Elladan and Elrohir
Rating: PG
The snow outside was reflected in the frosting on the window that Elladan sat before. A slender finger traced around the pattern of icicles. The sigh covered the glass with a fresh canvas and the finger began anew.
Elrohir stood at the door and watched his brother. They were aware of each other as always, yet his twin gave no indication, the window holding his attention.
“Remember when we were young,” Elladan began breaking into the silence of the room, “ we would wake and find the first winter chill had coated the ground white?”
“And we would plead to be excused to play?” Elrohir smiled stepping across the room to stand behind his brother. Elladan leaned back, silent once more as Elrohir embraced him, kissing the dark head.
“I miss that Elrohir, I miss that innocence, that belief that the world was a wondrous place full of magical things.”
Elrohir’s hand stroked the long hair that hung unbound over his brother’s shoulders. Elladan had been quiet since they had returned, quiet and withdrawn from most company. Elrohir himself had felt the melancholy from his brother and had given as much solace as he could. But Elladan had withdrawn even from that over the last days, unwilling to cast Elrohir into the maelstrom that was his soul.
Elladan turned to his brother burying his face in his chest. Elrohir cupped his head in one hand, wrapping his arm around the seemingly fragile body.
“I tire of it, Elrohir,” he whispered laying his cheek on Elrohir, staring out of the window. Elrohir followed his gaze, saying nothing, Elladan needed to speak of this, had needed to from the beginning but had refused all opportunity to do so. Elrohir had seen the sadness cloud their father’s eyes as he had looked from one to the other and settled on Elladan. Elrohir felt that dread now that Elrond had felt then. Would they lose Elladan too?
“It matters not how often I wash….I can still smell them on me, can still see their blood on my hands, my dreams have become filled with the evil that they do…”
Elrohir watched the soft flakes fall. “Come with me?”
Elrohir looked up and nodded the tears he had shed evident in the grey eyes. “Yes.”
Even though he had acquiesced to his brother’s request, Elladan felt little like venturing beyond the rooms they shared. What comfort there was to be had was offered by those rooms, by the permanency of the stone walls and the fidelity of his brother’s love. The air cooled with each step that Elrohir had them hurrying down the corridors.
“Where, Elrohir ?”
In response his twin smiled quietly, clutching his hand tightly to pull him more quickly.
The steps were coated in only a smattering of white, the courtyard more steeply draped. The sun caught the flakes and they gleamed in a light to rival the crystal caves.
Elrohir stopped at the head of the steps, his arm around his brother. “Come,” Elrohir motioned after a moment. Their feet left the only marks as they walked down and into the yard. The snow fluttered down softly, Elrohir held out his hand to catch the flakes, then turned to his brother. “There is still magic, Elladan, we just have to look harder for it.”
Elladan tipped back his head and opened his mouth. The flakes melted as they touched his lips, his tongue licking over them, a smile gradually appearing. “Yes,” he replied as he closed his eyes and let the snow fall unhindered.
His eyes flickered open at the thud against his arm. Elladan looked down at the white patch on his sleeve and immediately bent to gather a ball of his own. It was not long before the twin sons of Elrond were laughing, swapping insults aplenty at the aim of the other, ignoring the wetness that crept through their clothing. They rolled with each other, built barricades against the bombardment of snowballs, playing as they once had and almost forgotten.
It may only be a moment, and in a few days, weeks perhaps, they would ride again, but for now as Elrond looked out, they were the elflings of so long ago, young and carefree, laughing, their eyes dancing with delight, snowflakes dotting their dark hair. And in a time recreated, they held hands, smiled in the dawning of a secret revealed, and kissed.
“We have each other,” Elladan whispered, this time being the guide back to their rooms, his head resting on his brother’s shoulder as they walked. And he mused quietly, perhaps that was all the magic he needed.
Pairing : Elladan and Elrohir
Rating: PG
The snow outside was reflected in the frosting on the window that Elladan sat before. A slender finger traced around the pattern of icicles. The sigh covered the glass with a fresh canvas and the finger began anew.
Elrohir stood at the door and watched his brother. They were aware of each other as always, yet his twin gave no indication, the window holding his attention.
“Remember when we were young,” Elladan began breaking into the silence of the room, “ we would wake and find the first winter chill had coated the ground white?”
“And we would plead to be excused to play?” Elrohir smiled stepping across the room to stand behind his brother. Elladan leaned back, silent once more as Elrohir embraced him, kissing the dark head.
“I miss that Elrohir, I miss that innocence, that belief that the world was a wondrous place full of magical things.”
Elrohir’s hand stroked the long hair that hung unbound over his brother’s shoulders. Elladan had been quiet since they had returned, quiet and withdrawn from most company. Elrohir himself had felt the melancholy from his brother and had given as much solace as he could. But Elladan had withdrawn even from that over the last days, unwilling to cast Elrohir into the maelstrom that was his soul.
Elladan turned to his brother burying his face in his chest. Elrohir cupped his head in one hand, wrapping his arm around the seemingly fragile body.
“I tire of it, Elrohir,” he whispered laying his cheek on Elrohir, staring out of the window. Elrohir followed his gaze, saying nothing, Elladan needed to speak of this, had needed to from the beginning but had refused all opportunity to do so. Elrohir had seen the sadness cloud their father’s eyes as he had looked from one to the other and settled on Elladan. Elrohir felt that dread now that Elrond had felt then. Would they lose Elladan too?
“It matters not how often I wash….I can still smell them on me, can still see their blood on my hands, my dreams have become filled with the evil that they do…”
Elrohir watched the soft flakes fall. “Come with me?”
Elrohir looked up and nodded the tears he had shed evident in the grey eyes. “Yes.”
Even though he had acquiesced to his brother’s request, Elladan felt little like venturing beyond the rooms they shared. What comfort there was to be had was offered by those rooms, by the permanency of the stone walls and the fidelity of his brother’s love. The air cooled with each step that Elrohir had them hurrying down the corridors.
“Where, Elrohir ?”
In response his twin smiled quietly, clutching his hand tightly to pull him more quickly.
The steps were coated in only a smattering of white, the courtyard more steeply draped. The sun caught the flakes and they gleamed in a light to rival the crystal caves.
Elrohir stopped at the head of the steps, his arm around his brother. “Come,” Elrohir motioned after a moment. Their feet left the only marks as they walked down and into the yard. The snow fluttered down softly, Elrohir held out his hand to catch the flakes, then turned to his brother. “There is still magic, Elladan, we just have to look harder for it.”
Elladan tipped back his head and opened his mouth. The flakes melted as they touched his lips, his tongue licking over them, a smile gradually appearing. “Yes,” he replied as he closed his eyes and let the snow fall unhindered.
His eyes flickered open at the thud against his arm. Elladan looked down at the white patch on his sleeve and immediately bent to gather a ball of his own. It was not long before the twin sons of Elrond were laughing, swapping insults aplenty at the aim of the other, ignoring the wetness that crept through their clothing. They rolled with each other, built barricades against the bombardment of snowballs, playing as they once had and almost forgotten.
It may only be a moment, and in a few days, weeks perhaps, they would ride again, but for now as Elrond looked out, they were the elflings of so long ago, young and carefree, laughing, their eyes dancing with delight, snowflakes dotting their dark hair. And in a time recreated, they held hands, smiled in the dawning of a secret revealed, and kissed.
“We have each other,” Elladan whispered, this time being the guide back to their rooms, his head resting on his brother’s shoulder as they walked. And he mused quietly, perhaps that was all the magic he needed.