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Brotherly Concern by Naledi

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Written as a Christmas gift for Minuial-Nuwing.

 

 

Brotherly Concern

Belting his robe closely around him, Elladan turned away from the window and sat down upon the settle with a sigh, drawing his knees up to his chest. 

“Come in, Elrohir!” he called. Despite his mood, he had to bite back a grin when his twin stepped into the room: with his braids coming undone, his collar askew and his loosely laced shirt doing little to hide the purple bruises on his throat, there was little doubt as to what Elrohir had been up to. What was not clear was why he was not still so occupied.

“What are you doing here, Elrohir?” he asked, trying to keep the exasperation from his voice. “We’ve only just arrived. I wasn’t expecting you to leave Legolas’ chambers before noon tomorrow at the earliest.”

Elrohir’s gave a suggestive leer. “Let’s just say that Legolas needs some time to recuperate after the ride I’ve just given him. I’ll go back once I’ve collected some food. He’s going to need all his strength for what I’ve got planned for later.” The younger twin broke off when Elladan winced at his words.

“Ai, Elladan! I’m sorry, that was thoughtless of me,” exclaimed Elrohir, rapidly crossing the room to kneel beside his brother and wrap an arm around his shoulders. “And there I was, thinking I would come in and offer you some words of comfort. No, don’t deny that you’re hurting,” he went on when Elladan tried to protest. “I heard you sob when I passed your door. Whatever you might say, I can tell you’re not over Lindir yet and I suppose seeing me with Legolas must be rubbing salt into the wound.”

“Nay, Elrohir, you are quite mistaken,” said Elladan with another wince and a glance through the window to where the light of Eärendil’s star could just be seen peeping through the leaves of a stately beech. “Truly, I am fine. Go back to your prince; you’ve been apart long enough. I do not begrudge you this time with him.” 

“Not until I know you are going to be alright,” insisted Elrohir. “If you think I could be happy lying in Legolas’ arms, knowing you are lonely and heartsick, you can think again! Legolas will understand.”

Gritting his teeth, Elladan lowered his head to his knees with a groan of frustration. “I doubt that.” Lifting his head again, he glared at his twin. “Listen, Elrohir, it’s been years since you last saw each other. If you think he is going to be happy if you spend your first night in Eryn Galen attempting to comfort your brother over a completely imagined broken heart, instead of spending time with him, then you’ve still got a lot to learn about him. If I were you, I would get back to his chamber as quickly as you can, before you find the door bolted against you!”

At that, Elrohir eyed him in alarm. “Do you really think he would?” Then he eyed Elladan sharply. “But if you are fine, why did I hear you sob?”

Elladan shook his head vehemently. “I was not sobbing! I might have moaned slightly, but only because I am somewhat stiff. That’s nothing that a good night won’t cure. Now go!” he ordered, with a gesture to cut off any further protest. “Now!” he thundered when Elrohir seemed about to argue further.

Elrohir sighed and the battle fled from his eyes. “Very well, but promise you will send for me if you need me.”

“I promise, but I won’t need you.” Elladan grinned. “Have a good night.”

“I will. You too.” With that, Elrohir got to his feet and with a last squeeze to Elladan’s shoulder, he left, closing the door behind him.

“Oh, I will, brother, you can be sure of that!” Elladan murmured. As soon as the door had shut, he leapt to his feet, just as the window slid open. Thranduil dropped into the room with all the grace and barely concealed power of a lynx. 

“I thought he would never leave,” growled the king as he prowled up to Elladan and pushed him back onto the bed. “Do you know how undignified it is for a king to be hiding in a tree outside his lover’s window?” A wicked gleam sparked in his eyes as he tore open the elder twin’s robe, revealing a line of passion bruises that trailed from throat to groin. “Perhaps now I can get back to tending to that stiffness of yours.” He lowered his head between Elladan’s thighs. “Hmm, I see it is only ‘somewhat’ stiff now. I shall have to see what I can do about that.” And with that, Thranduil set to work with a skill that soon had Elladan writhing in pleasure, although he cried out in protest when Thranduil suddenly paused and raised his head.

“Oh, and for your information,” said Thranduil with a smirk, “Elrohir was right about one thing.”

“What was that?” gasped Elladan, frantically raising his hips in a futile attempt to entice the king into continuing with his task.

“You were definitely sobbing, not moaning,” Thranduil informed him. Then he lowered his head again to prove his point.

The End