Posted: December 2003
Title: Facing the Darkness (includes twincest)
Author: Dhvana
Fandom: Tolkien
Type: FCS
Pairing(s): Legolas/Aragorn (who is still Estel), Elladan/Thranduil/Elrohir implied, Legolas/Elladan/Elrohir/Menelhen, Legolas/Menelhen, Elrond/Glorfindel, Elladan/Legolas, Elrohir/Menelhen, Elladan/Elrohir/Misc. Elf
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Not mine--Tolkien's. Go ahead and sue--once you see how deep in debt I am, you'll only feel pity and let me go.
Notes: First Posted on March 13, 2003; Revised December 19, 2003.
Summary: In this sequel to "The Awakening", this last chapter of The Descending Darkness decides the fate of Estel and Legolas.

*****

Facing the Darkness

Though Menelhen was awake, his recovery was agonizingly slow. Legolas and the twins were amused to see their infinitely patient Healer brought to the edge of his wits as his body refused to cooperate with the speed of his mind. Or rather, they were amused at first, when their tolerance for Menelhen's impatience was aided by their relief at having him awake. That didn't take long to fade.

"This is revenge, isn't it?" Elladan groaned, collapsing onto the bed and directly on top of his brother, who had collapsed onto the mattress only moments before. "Revenge for every Healer in existence who has ever had to deal with a difficult patient."

"Revenge is too generous a word. This is torture," Elrohir said, turning his head so that they were lying cheek to cheek. "He's a Healer! Shouldn't he know better? Shouldn't he know just how long it takes to recover from such an injury?"

"One would think so."

"Then why is he trying to rush things? If he keeps this up much longer, I swear, I'm going to pound him unconscious."

"I never thought I'd miss the days when he was asleep," Elladan said, sliding his arms around his brother and snuggling into the comforting warmth.

"Who's with him now?"

"Legolas."

"Good," Elrohir yawned, "then I can finally get some rest."

"Are you certain that's what you want? We could go pay a visit to the Lord of Mirkwood."

"Elladan!"

"What?" his brother asked, blinking innocently.

"You're honestly telling me you have the energy left to meet the King's demands?"

"The King's, the Prince's, the Healer's, three guards, the Steward's, and then I might just have enough left over for you."

"I'm honored that you would think of me," Elrohir said dryly.

"You're my brother," came the reply garbled through a yawn. "Blood demands that I include you."

"I suggest you tell your blood to cool off, or you will wear yourself out and be of no use to anyone."

"I can try," he murmured against his brother's cheek, "but I don't think it will listen."

"Then perhaps it's time you tame that wild blood of yours and teach it to settle down."

"Mmm. . ."

"Elladan?" Elrohir asked, glancing up to try and catch sight of his brother's eyes, but he didn't need to see them to know that Elladan had drifted off into reverie. "Enough energy for seven, indeed," he chuckled as he allowed his gaze to grow unfocused, secure beneath the weight of his twin as their even breathing soon became matched.

"Menelhen, I swear by the Valar, if I catch you walking around one more time, I am going to tie you to that bed!"

Menelhen sighed from where he was seated at his desk, a mere five feet away from the bed--hardly a strenuous journey. His beloved's concern had been endearing at first, but now he was beginning to find the Elf's attention to be a bit suffocating. At least Elladan and Elrohir gave him a hint of freedom, allowing him to move about the room, so long as he did not strain himself--though if caught, it would mean a scolding from the golden Prince for all of them. Legolas, however, was trying the remaining threads of his good humor and was doing his best to test the very bonds of their love.

"My Lord, I swear to you, I have done myself no damage by walking over here," he said, then had to rest. His left lung continued to be a problem and breathing was somewhat difficult.

"You should be lying down," Legolas said, kneeling in front of the Healer with one hand on his knee. "You are not making your recovery go any faster by pressing yourself so hard. The limits of your body are much diminished from what they once were," Legolas said, and began to lightly caress Menelhen's kneecap with his fingertips. "Please, go slowly so that we may move faster to the time when we can be together."

The Healer's eyes narrowed. "That is not going to work this time, my Lord. You can tempt me all you want with every physical pleasure imagined by the Elves, and it will not lessen my desire to walk around my room and sit at my own desk."

Legolas scowled at the stubborn Elf, wondering where the complacent Healer he had known all those years had vanished to. "Very well then. I guess I shall just have to tie you to your bed."

"You know, Elladan and Elrohir wouldn't see that as a punishment. Perhaps I don't either."

The golden Prince's eyes widened at the seductive gleam in the Healer's silver gaze. This was definitely not the Menelhen he had known. Perhaps he had been wrong to let the Sons of Rivendell keep the Healer company while he was asleep. Who knows what sort of temptations they whispered in his unguarded ears, or how many of those temptations remained in his memory? It would be interesting to discover, one day, but not now.

Standing swiftly, Legolas glared down at the Elf. "You are going back to bed and you will remain there, with or without bonds."

"And just how do you intend to keep me there?" the Healer demanded, a challenge in his voice.

"We will trade. You return to your bed and promise me that you will not move for a day, and I shall give you a kiss."

"I've been kissed by you before, my Lord. I think you would be benefiting more from this trade than I would."

A slow, dangerous smile crossed the Prince's face. "I never said where I would kiss you."

Menelhen's mind was momentarily clouded by images of all the places Legolas could kiss him, but settled down again when he thought of all the other, more innocent places he could be kissed. "You're trying to trick me," he said accusingly. Legolas simply nodded.

"Of course I am. Are you willing to trade, or do you want to continue to make this an unpleasant process of bickering and threats?"

"I was rather enjoying the bickering and threats, but very well, I will trade with you."

"Good," Legolas said, his entire face lighting up with triumph as he slipped an arm around Menelhen's waist and helped him to his feet. The Healer felt only a momentary twinge of pain, but the Prince was gentle, waiting for it to pass before leading him to the bed. Legolas carefully eased the Elf onto the mattress, then sat down beside him, smiling at his handiwork.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Menelhen asked sullenly, damning himself for not having the willpower to stand up to the Prince.

"I haven't forgotten," Legolas said, lifting the edge of the Elf's dressing gown, causing Menelhen's eyes to widen in anticipation. He drew it up the Healer's legs, stopping when only his thighs remained covered. Leaning down, he adjusted the Healer's left leg to reveal the tender skin on the underside of his knee. He ran the tip of his tongue along the creases in the sensitive skin, then pressed his lips to the spot in a soft, tingling kiss.

These relatively simple acts left Menelhen flushed and gasping for breath, his lungs not yet strong enough to handle such delicious torment.

Legolas drew the dressing gown back to cover the Healer's legs, then placed a blanket over his body. "When I can do that and not leave you breathless, then you may move about as you wish."

"There will never come a time when you can do that and not leave me breathless," Menelhen said, looking into his lover's eyes.

Smiling, Legolas kissed the Healer's forehead. "Rest now, my love. I have kept my end of the bargain, now you must keep yours."

"I think you will find I will not be so eager to bargain next time," he warned the golden Prince, and Legolas chuckled.

"I have a day to worry about that and hopefully find a new way to tempt you to remain in bed."

"There is only one real temptation that would keep me in bed," the Healer said slyly, causing a scowl to cross the Prince's face.

"That's it--Elladan and Elrohir are no longer allowed in here without supervision. You're picking up too many of their habits."

"I already had these habits--they're simply teaching me to express them."

"Lessons you don't need right now."

"Lessons I may not be able to practice at the moment, but will be most welcome in the future."

Legolas leaned over the Healer, his hands on either side of Menelhen, his hair drifting down to caress the pale skin. "Welcome, perhaps, but rejected if you do not cooperate with me now and get some rest!"

"You would reject me?" Menelhen asked, searching Legolas's eyes, then he smiled. "No, you would not."

"You think I don't have the will to resist you?" Legolas grinned.

"Indeed, I do not. You may try, but I will succeed in the end. Your heart will need me, even if your body does not."

"You may be right, but if you don't get better, we will never find out," Legolas said, lightly kissing the Healer. "Sleep. I will be back to see you in a couple of hours."

Elrond strode quietly into the clearing where his foster son was seated at the base of his mother's grave, his back against her statue. Estel had been home for only a few days, but in that time, Elrond had seen little of him, the Man preferring to seek solitude in Rivendell's more peaceful spots, particularly at his mother's final resting place. The Elf Lord watched as the Ranger absently shredded a leaf, the blue-gray eyes distant and troubled. Perhaps it was time to convince Estel to unburden himself.

"My son, I was searching for you," he said, walking towards the Human.

Estel's head shot up, his eyes focusing on the noble Elf. "I am sorry, Father. I did not mean to hide from you. I just needed some time to think."

"Is there anything I can help you with?"

"No," Estel sighed, shaking his head. "This trouble is mine, and mine alone."

"It is only yours if you keep it to yourself," Elrond said, reaching down to take Estel gently by the chin, turning the distressed gaze to meet his own. "Walk with me, my son, and let me see if I can ease your heart."

Estel looked into the Lord's pale blue eyes for a moment, then thought that maybe Elrond was right. He had always found solace with his foster father before, perhaps this time would not be any different. He rose to his feet and, with one final respectful glance towards his mother's face, he took his place at his father's side.

"I haven't had much of a chance to speak with you since your return," Elrond said as they passed beneath the trees. "The hunt went well?"

"It was difficult. The creature, Gollum, was a tricky little thing, but I prevailed in the end."

"And how fares our Mirkwood kin? Is all well in the Greenwood?"

"As well as can be expected in that dark place."

Elrond glanced at his foster son, wondering if perhaps he had brought some of that darkness back with him, but he knew the true meaning behind Estel's dour demeanor. Elladan and Elrohir had written to say the lovers had fought, though they did not know the reason why. He had hoped that Estel would have taken the opportunity to amend their relationship while in Mirkwood, but his son didn't appear to be overly forthcoming with the details. It seemed he must try for a more direct approach.

"Did you happen to see Legolas while you were there?"

Estel's scowl deepened, answering Elrond's question.

"My son, I know you two have had a falling out, but is there no way to mend what has happened between you?"

"It is not what has happened that is coming between us, Father, but what will happen." Estel paused, taking a deep breath. "Legolas has discovered that I am destined to be the King of Men."

"So this is the cause of the dispute between you. I'm afraid it was hardly a discovery," Elrond chuckled. "I told him myself."

Estel froze, staring at the Elf Lord with disbelief. "You told him?"

"Many years ago, during the summer when you first met, just before he had to leave here to return to Mirkwood."

"He's known about me for that long?"

"He knew before you did."

"But. . . why? Why did you tell him? Why say anything at all?"

"Because I saw that he loved you, and that you loved him, and I wanted to make sure he knew what fate had in store for you before giving his heart away completely. Even with that warning, it did not stop him from loving you. Indeed, he seemed eager to make the most out of the years he could have with you, despite the obstacles in his path. Now, however, the time of your destiny is drawing near, and perhaps that is why he insists on sending you alone down this path. Legolas has always seen himself as a companion to Estel. I believe that he has never been able to see a place for himself at Aragorn's side."

"He has never been able to, or he does not want to?" Estel asked bitterly, and Elrond smiled gently at him.

"My son, you knew the answer to that question. If you do not want to lose him, you will have to convince him that Aragorn will love and need him just as much as Estel does."

"And perhaps even more," he said softly, "for the burdens that will weigh on Aragorn's shoulders will be far heavier than the ones I have now, and I will be in greater need of his support. Oh, Father, I have been a fool. If I had known that this is what has been troubling him, I could have convinced him that he will be no less important in Aragorn's eyes than he is in Estel's."

"I am sorry, my son. I should have told you that he knew, or let you tell him yourself, but I was afraid for you both."

"No, Father, the fault is mine. I should have told him the moment I found out and then shared with him the depths of my feelings, but I held back. I was afraid I would lose him, and now I have."

"Do not give up hope, my son. This misunderstanding between you can still be fixed, if you go to him now."

Estel smiled and hesitated only a second before throwing his arms around the Elf Lord. "Thank you, Father. As always your advice has been invaluable to me. You never fail to help me clear my mind and send my thoughts where they need to go."

"You are welcome, Estel," Elrond said, returning his embrace. "I confess, I shall miss times when you no longer have need of my advice."

Estel chuckled. "I'm afraid that time will never come. I will always need your advice, as well as the strength and calm of your words and conversation. Even a King must seek out those who are superior in knowledge in certain aspects of his reign and I know of none more knowledgeable than you."

"Hush now, child. There is no need to flatter me. I will freely offer advice when I can and gladly admit when I cannot," Elrond said, laughing softly. "For someone of my age, it is reassuring to know there are some questions I do not have the answers to."

"Father, you can consider yourself to be as old as the Valar, and I will never believe it. You have three times the energy as any of us and, I swear, there are days when you appear to be younger than the twins."

Elrond's eyes narrowed fondly at Estel. "If you were your brothers, I would think you wanted something."

"Only your love, Father."

"You know you have that, without question."

"And your fastest steed?" Estel asked, his eyes widening with hope. Elrond laughed long and hard, taking his youngest in his arms.

"That you may have as well, little imp. And if you happen to run across your wayward brothers, please ask them to return home. I am sure they have worn out Thranduil's good graces by now and he must be eager to be rid of them."

"Are you certain that's not reason enough to keep them there?" Estel grinned, and Elrond winked.

"It's a tempting thought, but even the proud Lord of Mirkwood doesn't deserve that. Now, don't you have a trip to prepare for?"

"You're right, of course. Thank you, Father."

"You're welcome, Estel."

Elrond watched his foster son run off towards his room, not noticing Glorfindel's approach until the Elf had his arms wrapped around his Lord's waist.

"He seems happy. Well, happier than he's been in a very long time."

"He is," Elrond said, leaning into Glorfindel's embrace. "I've just sent him off to Mirkwood to follow his heart."

Instead of the joy he expected his love to feel, Glorfindel stiffened against him. "Is something wrong?"

"I'm afraid so. Mithrandir just arrived with another task for Estel."

"Now?" Elrond sighed, feeling Estel's disappointment as well as his own. "The Istari could not have worse timing."

"Isn't that always the case?" his lover asked with an amused tone.

"During days like these, yes. I don't suppose this is a task that can be delayed?"

"You know Mithrandir wouldn't ask unless it was important."

Elrond swore under his breath. "We were so close, Glorfindel. Now the breach between them might never be mended."

Glorfindel turned the Elf Lord around, holding the noble face between his hands. "Do you believe their love is as strong as ours?"

"Maybe not quite as strong," Elrond said with an adoring smile at his mate, "but certainly not far off."

"Then do not doubt that they will find a way."

"You are right, as always, my love," Elrond said, taking the Elf into his arms. "Perhaps I should tell Aragorn to go to you when he feels the need to seek my advice."

"Don't even consider it. I have no desire to be an advisor to Kings."

"You advise me."

"You are not a King," Glorfindel said, tweaking Elrond's nose, "and you usually only need my advice in matters of the heart, not matters of state."

"I need your advice on all matters. I do not function without you."

"You seemed to be doing quite well before I arrived."

"I was guessing," Elrond grinned, and his lover laughed.

"And you were doing an excellent job of it. You didn't even need me."

"Say those words again," Elrond growled, "and you will force me to find a way to silence your mouth."

Glorfindel's eyes sparkled with mischief as he gazed at the Lord. "You didn't need me."

"I'm afraid such defiance of your King warrants severe punishment."

"I thought you weren't a King."

"In this instance, I am," Elrond said, and pressed his lips to Glorfindel's.

"My liege!" the blond said breathlessly, pulling away. "How dare you seek to punish me like this! You should be punishing me in our bedroom."

Elrond drew himself up to his full height, staring regally down at the Elf. "You presume too much, subject of mine, to correct your King in such a manner."

"You are right. Forgive me, my liege, while I withdraw my odious self from your presence." Glorfindel bowed and began slowly backing away when Elrond grabbed his arm.

"Where do you think you're going? The bedroom is in the other direction."

"An error I will not make again," the blond Elf grinned, allowing Elrond to lead him away.

Estel had just finished throwing the last of the basic necessities in his pack when someone opened the door.

"Ah, Aragorn, good. I see that Glorfindel has found you."

"Gandalf!" Estel said, his face lighting up at seeing the Istari. "I didn't know you were here. When did you arrive?"

"Only a short while ago, and I have been looking for you ever since. You have not seen Glorfindel?"

"No, not since this morning. Why do you ask?"

"He was supposed to relay a message to you informing you that I am in need of your services again."

Estel's face fell as he gazed on the wizard. "Gandalf, no, not now. There is something I have to do."

"Aragorn," the wizard said, his voice only mildly chastising, "you know I would not ask if I did not need you."

"Cannot an Elf take my place this time?"

"Aragorn," the wizard began, his face darkening, and Estel sighed.

"I know, Gandalf. Forgive me, please. If it must, I suppose this other matter can wait. What would you have me do?"

As Estel listened to the wizard's bizarre tale of Halflings and how fate had implanted in their care the One Ring, he felt his heart go numb. Even if he could return from this journey quickly and seek out Legolas, he would not want to. Nothing would ever convince him to place his beloved in harm's way and any associations with the Ring would be nothing less than dangerous. He and Legolas would have to wait until this time of darkness had passed. He only prayed he would live long enough to see that day.

Elrond and Glorfindel rose early the next morning to see Estel and the Istari begin their separate journeys. Mithrandir had shared with the Elf Lord the purpose of Estel's quest, and he could not help but feel a twinge of fear as he gazed on his foster son.

"You know that if you should ever need me, you need only call, and the power of the Elves shall come to your aid."

"I know," Estel said, hugging the majestic Elf. "Thank you, Father."

"Have a safe journey, my son, and return home soon."

"You needn't make such a fuss over him," Gandalf said, gray eyes twinkling. "He is a man now."

"Yes," Glorfindel said, gazing at the Istari over Estel's shoulder as he embraced the Ranger, "but in my eyes, he will always be the little boy who dragged his tattered blanket through the halls as he tugged on my tunic, begging me for stories."

"Glorfindel," Estel said, his bearded face turning a bright red, "please tell me that's not how you see me!"

The blond Elf pressed a hand to Estel's cheek, his eyes shining with love. "Even when you are King, I shall be checking your left hand for the remnants of that blanket. You are like a son to me, Estel. I have hated watching you grow up, knowing I would never again feel your little hand grasping mine, but I could not be more proud of the man you have become."

Estel's eyes began to fill with tears as he wrapped his arms around the Elf. He didn't know what to say, but he didn't need to say anything. Glorfindel could feel the love pouring from him.

Elrond, tears pricking at his eyes, looked at Mithrandir with a gentle smile. "How did I get so fortunate to have such a family?"

"You have done much to deserve it," the Istari said, clasping the Elf's shoulder, feeling his own eyes water a little. "But now the time for good-byes is at an end, and we must be leaving."

The two Elves stood back, their arms wrapped about each other's waists, as their eyes followed the departing figures. Glorfindel glanced up at his love and sighed at seeing the frown on his face.

"I know," he said, resting his head on Elrond's shoulder. "I feel it, too."

"Probably deeper than the rest of us," Elrond said with a worried glance at his love, knowing of the darkness he suffered through in order to return. "We must be wary and always at attention. Increase the guard and the watches on our borders until Estel returns, and perhaps even after. The darkness is drawing near, and we must be more vigilant if we are to remain safe."

"And Estel?"

"He is strong, possessing the best skills of both Elves and Men. He will survive. It is the burden he goes to fetch that we must worry about."

Glorfindel silently nodded his assent, his gaze on Estel's back until the Ranger disappeared from view.

"Give that back!" Elladan shouted as Elrohir grabbed the wineskin from his hand and went running off with it, his twin quickly following.

"You'll have to catch me first!" Elrohir laughed, running ahead only to circle back around and shove the wineskin into Menelhen's hands as he passed. The Healer did his best to conceal it and Elladan went running by without a second glance, falling for the ruse.

Legolas chuckled, taking the wineskin and drinking deep of one of Mirkwood's finest red vintages. Suddenly, he stopped, dropping the skin to the ground. Grasping Menelhen's face between his hands, he pressed his lips to the Elf's and let him drink the wine from his mouth.

With a smile, he licked off the few drops that had escaped to trickle down the Healer's chin.

"I think you've had enough," Menelhen chuckled, picking up the wineskin from the ground and taking a drink as Legolas nibbled at his neck.

"It's not the wine that's affecting me," he said, pulling at the laces of the Healer's tunic to kiss the pale skin of his chest. "It is having you near and well that makes me giddy."

Menelhen smiled, then gasped, twining his fingers in the Prince's golden hair as Legolas's mouth lapped at a peaked nipple.

He had finally been permitted to walk about freely only a couple of weeks ago, though Legolas still refused to share a bed with him for fear of damaging his lungs before he was ready. If these next two days went well, however, the Healer would look forward to spending every night thereafter in the Prince's arms.

This particular adventure had been proposed after he, Elladan, and Elrohir had heard the Prince's account of Gollum. Curious to see the creature, they had convinced Legolas to take them. As it would be the first major journey since Menelhen's recovery, they had to go slowly and decided to make the pace more bearable by turning the trip into a holiday. A short holiday, for Legolas would not permit Menelhen to put such a strain on himself for more than two days, but it was enough to lift all their spirits.

"All right, which one of you has it?" demanded a voice from behind. Legolas quickly stuffed the wineskin under his tunic.

"Has what?" he asked, his voice pure innocence as he glanced back at the twin.

"Question answered," Elladan said and tackled the Elf.

Legolas rolled to his side to keep the wineskin from bursting as he fell, laughing as Elladan began pawing at him. Slipping in out from under his shirt, he tossed the wineskin to Menelhen and began tickling Elladan mercilessly. The raven-haired Elf tried to escape, but Legolas grabbed him by the shoulders, twisting their bodies so that he was on top with Elladan pinned beneath him.

"Dear heart, why don't you give this poor, tortured being something to drink?" Legolas said with a suggestive gaze at Menelhen while Elladan struggled to break free.

Smiling knowingly at his love, the Healer knelt down next to the captive twin and, taking a drink, leaned over and pressed his mouth to Elladan's. The Elf's struggles ceased as he drank eagerly from Menelhen's lips, Legolas watching with amused and slightly glazed eyes.

The moment was broken, however, as a body crashed into them, sending the three Elves sprawling in the grass.

"You piece of troll dung!" Legolas shouted and tackled Elrohir, who laughed. Having anticipated the attack, he was able to evade the Prince, and then pounced. Elrohir maneuvered Legolas until the golden Prince was face down on the ground with the Son of Elrond straddling him in triumph, trapping him with his legs.

"A little help, please," Legolas said, turning his head to glare at the two remaining Elves.

"Oh, I think I can help you," Elladan answered, his eyes twinkling as he crawled over next to his brother. The two rubbed noses, practically purring as minds and bodies connected, then with their heads pressed together, turned to look at the Healer.

Menelhen gasped, feeling the urge to fall backwards and edge away from the lust radiating off the two devilish creatures. Their blue-violet eyes were glowing as identical smiles stretched across their faces, emanating a heat that set fire to his body so long in denial. With one arm around each other's waists, they reached a hand out to him.

Catching sight of the expression on Menelhen's face, Legolas's eyes widened. He knew exactly what the Healer was seeing, and he knew Menelhen would never be able to resist. Feeling the heat emanating off the two Elves above him, he knew no living creature would be able to resist.

"Get off me!" he growled, trying to roll over and knock Elrohir loose.

"Shh. . ." Elrohir said, letting his hand fall to stroke the golden hair. "He needs this."

"Not you two, not now--he isn't ready!"

"Hush, my love. We know what we're doing." He turned to look at his twin. "Elladan."

There was a subtle command in the way he spoke his brother's name, and Elladan was quick to oblige him. He pressed his lips to Elrohir's cheek, then slowly slid his mouth down his face, over his neck, and paused to feast at the spot above his collarbone.

Menelhen met Elrohir's half-lidded eyes and felt his face flush to see the extreme pleasure the Elf was feeling beneath his brother's ministrations. His face burned even brighter, a soft moan escaping his lips as Elladan's hand glided over his twin's chest and down the length of his torso to stop between his legs. Focusing his eyes on the Healer, Elladan massaged Elrohir's growing erection through the cloth of his leggings. In their long lifetime, the twins had discovered many ways to make themselves irresistible to others--teasing each other into a frenzy lacked subtlety, but it never failed.

Menelhen was unable to remove his eyes from the brothers, gasping when he realized he had forgotten to breathe. He had always found the love they had to be one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen, but this. . . this was by far the most erotic. His body throbbed, needing to be with them, a part of them, one of them.

The golden Prince felt a hint of panic touch his heart.

"My love," Legolas whispered. "Menelhen. Look at me."

With much reluctance and using all the strength of his will, Menelhen tore his eyes from the twins and focused on the Prince. He saw in the Prince's face concern for his well-being and fear that he would cause himself harm, as well as a hint of jealousy that he would consider any others. However, buried deep beyond all that, Menelhen saw the desire that Legolas had been keeping in check since he had woken up, and that desire was longing to be set loose.

Crawling over to Legolas, he stretched out on the grass so that his head was even with the Prince's. He gazed into the sapphire eyes and reached up to trace his thumb over the noble brow. "Trust me," he said softly and pressed his lips to Legolas's.

The archer hesitated only a moment before giving in to the Healer's kiss, matching the passion he felt there.

Seeing that the golden Prince meant to cooperate, Elrohir loosened his grip on the Elf and Legolas wriggled out from under him, taking Menelhen in his arms. However, they only had a moment alone before they were surrounded by the twins. Four arms encompassed them, four hands caressed them, and two mouths opened to welcome them. Elladan claimed Legolas while Elrohir worked his charms on the Healer, the Sons of Elrond once more sharing in their conquest.

"How long have you been waiting for this?" Legolas asked with a good-natured glare as he reached up to wrap an arm around the Prince's neck.

"Since we first laid eyes on that luscious young Elf of yours, and don't worry, love--he is yours, but you know how we can be."

"Oh, I know that very well," he chuckled darkly, taking Elladan's lower lip between his teeth, drawing at it with a not-so-gentle tug. "And I wasn't worried."

"Of course you weren't," the twin whispered as he nuzzled a pointed ear. "You know where your true heart lies."

Legolas stiffened in his arms, but before he could say anything, all four Elven heads turned at the sound of a horn in the distance.

The twins' complexions darkened, their eyes blazing as they jumped to their feet.

"Orcs!" they spat and began running towards the sound, the other two quick to follow.

"Stay here!" Legolas yelled, glancing back at Menelhen.

"No! If there is fighting, I may be needed."

"Menelhen--"

"You don't have time to argue with me!"

Legolas swore, knowing the Healer was correct. "We'll discuss this later!"

"I know," he replied, unable to keep the fondness from his voice despite their urgency, then ran into the Prince when Legolas stopped suddenly in front of him. Legolas grabbed the Healer by the shoulders and kissed him fiercely, staring into his eyes.

"If you get hurt again, I will never forgive you. Stay away from the fighting!"

"Yes, my Lord," he answered, stunned by the change in the Prince.

Legolas nodded sharply, then turned and continued to run.

The fighting was happening near where the Elves had been keeping Gollum. When Legolas arrived, he could see that while the Elves were holding their own, there was a large number of Orcs to keep them busy. He grabbed a sword from a fallen Orc and began hacking at the enemy. "Where's Elladan?" he shouted to Elrohir as he made a path to him through the Orcs.

"Over there, somewhere," the Elf said, gesturing to his left with his sword, also taken off a dead Orc, skewering one in the eye as he did so. "Bastard got a little too carried away. Remind me to punch him when we find him. Where's Menelhen?"

"Staying away from the fighting, if he knows what's good for him."

"Good," he grunted, ducking as Legolas swung over his head to kill the Orc coming at him from behind.

They fought steadily, finding a rhythm that would allow them to do the most amount of damage while watching each other's backs.

"I'm starting to worry about you Mirkwood Elves," Elrohir grinned, taking a peek at Legolas. "An entire horde of Orcs entered your forest and you never even knew it."

"Of course we knew," Legolas replied, his manner haughty and full of affronted dignity. "We just wanted to draw them in, let them think they were getting away with something, and then we planned on killing them."

"Sure you did," Elrohir said, rolling his eyes as he chopped the arm off an Orc. "I'm not buying it, Elf."

"What, you think Rivendell Elves could do much better?" Legolas scoffed, pulling his sword from an Orc's stomach. "I didn't notice you sensing anything amiss."

"This isn't my home. If we'd been in Imladris, I would have sensed them immediately. I guess we Rivendell Elves are just more in tune with the land than you Mirkwood Elves."

"More in tune with what fertilizes the land, you mean."

"I'd take offense at that," Elrohir said, punching an Orc in the face before slicing across its neck, "but I'm too busy being offended by your smell. I'm surprised that stench alone isn't scaring the Orcs off."

"The only thing I can smell is Orc, so the odor must be all yours."

"Unless your smell and theirs is one and the same," Elrohir grinned, and Legolas narrowed his eyes.

"That's it. As soon as we're done killing these Orcs that we Mirkwood Elves lured into our woods, you and I are going to have words."

"Then you might want to stop talking now, or you'll use up your entire vocab--Ai!" Elrohir gasped, falling to his knees as he clutched his shoulder, his face twisting in pain.

All mirth vanished from Legolas's eyes as he fended off the Orcs who would have attacked the dazed Elf. "Elrohir! How badly are you hurt?"

"Not me," the Elf said through clenched teeth while shaking his head. "Elladan!"

Legolas's face paled as he looked up, searching the battleground. "I can't see him!"

"Find him, Legolas! You must find him!"

"But what about--" the golden Prince began, then stopped upon seeing Elrohir rise up from the ground like an avenging demon. His hair was an ebony cloud around him, his eyes flashing bolts of blue-violet lightning as he began hacking into those who had caused his brother pain.

"Go!" he commanded, and Legolas mutely nodded, fighting his way through the Orcs to find the fallen Elf. Menelhen had reached the injured twin first and Legolas found them in the trees a safe distance from the fighting.

"Elladan!" Legolas cried upon seeing the pale face whitened by loss of blood, then dropped down beside the Elf. Elladan's entire right side was covered in red and there was a nasty slice across his shoulder. Taking Elladan's left hand between his own, he looked up at the Healer.

"He's going to be fine," Menelhen smiled. "It looks worse than it is. I don't know whether the sword was poisoned or not, so I gave him an antidote anyway."

"A fouler potion I have never tasted," Elladan said, scrunching up his face with disgust. "If I didn't know better, I'd say Menelhen here was trying to poison me."

"We don't know what was on that sword," Menelhen shrugged, "so I had to give you a general panacea for all Orc poisons. The taste will go away in a bit. Now, I need to tend to the other wounded." He glanced up at Legolas. "Will you stay with him?"

"Of course," the golden Prince answered, fighting back tears as the Healer stood. Menelhen quickly assessed the archer, making sure he was unharmed. Reassured that Legolas was whole, he kissed him, then hurried to where the other injured Elves had been gathered.

"My love," Elladan said, weakly squeezing Legolas's hand. "Why do you look so sad?"

"I thought I'd lost you, and Elrohir--if you had seen him. . ."

"I saw," Elladan said, his face darkening momentarily. "Do not fear--once he overcomes the initial shock, he'll be fine."

"He's going to kill you, you know, for scaring him like this."

"I know," Elladan grimaced, then looked at Legolas with pleading eyes. "I don't suppose there's any chance you would help me escape?"

"Absolutely not," Legolas grinned. "You deserve what's coming to you by not knowing how to block an Orc's sword."

"And he probably knows I'm not that badly injured, so there's no way for me to pretend I'm worse off than I am."

"It looks like you're doomed."

"So it would seem," he sighed. "Though, I do have one request." Legolas arched an eyebrow, and Elladan grinned. "A final kiss for the condemned?"

"Request granted," Legolas smiled and leaned down to press his lips to the Elf's, only to find himself pulled into an enthusiastic kiss. "That stuff really does taste foul," he grimaced, drawing away a little, "and you really aren't half as injured as you appear to be."

"It's the worst pain I've ever felt, but you're making it all worthwhile," he said, wrapping his left arm around Legolas and pulling him closer.

"You do know there's a battle going on," Legolas murmured, making himself cozy while avoiding Elladan's right side.

"I know. That means they're all too distracted to notice anything we do, and the Elves were holding their own, last I checked--they won't miss us. Besides, I nearly died--don't you think I deserve a little comforting?"

"I'll tell you what you deserve," growled a dark voice above them, "and comfort has nothing to do with it."

They looked up to see Elrohir towering above him, the storm still crashing in his eyes. He was covered in Orc's blood, his body shivering uncontrollably. The Orcs had all been demolished, but Elrohir looked as if he was ready to take on an entire army of them.

"Elrohir, brother, are you well?" Elladan asked as a tremor ran through him. He and his twin had been in battles before, they'd been injured before, but what he was seeing was something different, something new, something terrifying.

Across the field, Menelhen glanced towards his three closest friends, and his eyes widened. Leaving the Elf he was helping, he yelled instructions to the camp Healer to tend the rest and ran to Elrohir. Grabbing the Rivendell Prince's arm, he began pulling him away.

"Come on, Elrohir. Let's get that Orc's blood washed off of you--I can't tell if you're injured or not."

"I'm not finished here, Healer," Elrohir snapped, trying to fight the limber Elf, but Menelhen was proving decidedly stubborn.

"Yes, you are. You can come back when you're cleaned up."

Legolas and Elladan watched the two disappear, then Legolas cast a worried glance at the remaining twin. "What's wrong with him?"

Elladan's eyes grew distant as he focused on the part of him that was his brother. "He's upset, afraid. When he was fighting, the only way he could go on was to completely immerse himself in the battle. He's having trouble pulling himself out."

"Will he be okay?"

The raven-haired Prince hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "He'll be all right. I think Menelhen understood what was going on. He'll know how to get him calmed down."

"Will you be okay?" Legolas asked softly.

"I'll be fine," he answered, though his voice was uncertain and his eyes were still filled with concern for his twin. Legolas kissed his cheek and held him, knowing he didn't need to say anything else, he just needed to be there. The battle finished, the rest of the Elves retreated back to the camp, but the two remained, needing the quiet beneath the trees.

"What do you think you're doing?" Elrohir shouted, trying to shake the Healer off. Remaining silent, Menelhen continued to drag the unwilling warrior towards the stream. "Damnit, Elf! Release me!"

As they neared the water, Healer obeyed, letting go of Elrohir's arm at the same time as he pushed him into the stream. Elrohir landed on his backside in the water, glaring at Menelhen.

"Wash," the Healer ordered.

The twin narrowed his eyes and stood up, preparing to walk out of the stream. Menelhen pushed him back down again. The violet sparks in Elrohir's eyes flared. "If you keep this up, you're going to join those Orcs out there."

"When you're no longer drowning in Orc blood, you may leave the stream."

Elrohir opened his mouth to protest, then closed it again. Rising to his feet, he turned around and began walking towards the other bank.

"Oh no, you don't!" Menelhen rushed into the stream and grabbed Elrohir's arm.

The Rivendell Prince whirled around and took hold of the Healer by the waist, pulling him into a burning kiss. As Menelhen struggled in his arms, Elrohir only tightened his grip. He didn't know what made him do it, what had urged him to kiss the Elf. He only knew that the battle in his veins needed quelled, and the Healer, silver eyes blazing in exasperation, had appealed to him as never before.

Though Menelhen continued to try and break free, Elrohir could feel the Healer's arousal pressing against his own. Legolas had been a fool to make one so passionate wait so long, he thought, holding tight to the Healer's waist with one arm, reaching down with his free hand to rub Menelhen's hardness. The Healer moaned, his struggles growing less convincing as he pushed against Elrohir's hand. The Prince's own erection was starting to throb with need and he turned the Elf around, bending him over a nearby boulder.

The water splashed around their knees, but they didn't notice. It didn't even occur to them to leave the stream. Menelhen raised himself up on his arms, still leaning invitingly over the large rock as Elrohir lifted the robes up over his backside, pulling down the gray leggings to reveal the creamy white buttocks.

"Oh, gods," Elrohir breathed, the sight sending a painful stab through his loins. Menelhen glanced back at him, the silver eyes glowing with desire and Elrohir kissed him, devouring the eager lips. He wantonly explored the Healer's mouth, seeking out every hidden spot. Pulling back the edge of the Healer's robes, he bit the pale neck.

Menelhen gasped, wrapping an arm around the Prince's head as Elrohir began licking the wound. The young Elf tasted clean, untainted by the violence of the day. It was refreshing to taste something pure, to chase the vileness of the Orcs from his mouth, but Elrohir was about to put an end to the Healer's purity. Undoing the laces of his breeches, he released his erection. Spitting into his hand, he pierced the Healer with his fingers. He expected Menelhen to cry out in pain, but instead, the sound emitting from the Elf's throat was a guttural moan of pleasure as he arched into Elrohir's touch.

The Son of Elrond smiled, pleased at the response. After a few quick motions, he removed his hand and placed his cock at the Healer's entrance. For a brief second, he hesitated, thinking of the betrayal he was about to commit, then the second passed and he thrust into the Elf.

This time, Menelhen did cry out in pain. It had been so long--months since he'd last been taken by Legolas, despite his need for the Prince's touch. He knew their time had been drawing near, that it was only hours away, but time hadn't moved fast enough. Elrohir was here, now, one of the beautiful twins he had desired and who had desired him since they'd first met, and Elrohir wanted him. Elrohir didn't give a second thought about taking him. Most importantly, he didn't have to worry about Elrohir thinking of anyone else while he was inside of him, that no memory of a past love would interfere. The twins lived for the moment, and he was Elrohir's moment.

Elrohir entered him again and again until the pain vanished and there was only pleasure. The Prince positioned himself so that he hit the Healer's sensitive spot and soon Menelhen was crying out in agonizing ecstasy. A hand reached around and grabbed hold of his cock, pumping him with the same rhythm that Elrohir was using inside of him, and soon he was seeing stars, little pricks of light swimming before his eyes. It had never been like this before--Legolas was always caring, always concerned, always gentle. This was rough, demanding, forcing pleasure out of him and into him, and he loved it.

"More!" he begged and could almost feel the heat of Elrohir's replying grin. The Elf Prince pushed in deeper, harder, pounding into him until he felt like he was going to split in two. With a few commanding thrusts on his cock, the Prince brought him over the edge, the orgasm he had been waiting weeks to experience spilling from him with white-hot jolts. Within seconds, he could feel Elrohir's own heat pouring through him as the Elf clutched at his hips, grinding into him. Finally, they collapsed, the Prince crushing him against the boulder as they both gasped for breath, their hearts threatening to beat their way out of their chests.

The Prince brushed the hair from Menelhen's face, revealing the flushed cheeks and the passion-glazed eyes.

"Say good-bye to Legolas, little Healer," Elrohir whispered into his ear, licking the sensitive tip, "because he's not going to get you back."

Menelhen smiled, and turned his head to meet the Prince's eyes, his own flashing a silver challenge. "We shall see."

Elladan gasped, and then moaned, his hands clutching at the earth beneath him. Legolas looked up to see his blue-violet eyes glowing, sparks of lavender shooting through them.

"Elladan, what's wrong?" he asked, sitting up. He looked around, wondering what was taking the Healer so long.

"Legolas," Elladan whispered, focusing on the Prince. "Touch me."

"Elladan," Legolas said softly, fearing it was an Orcish poison burning through his friend's body. He reached out, pressing a palm to Elladan's cheek.

"No," the Elf said, shaking his head. He grabbed hold of Legolas's hand and placed it to his swelling Elfhood. "Touch me!"

The golden Prince snatched his hand away. "You're in no condition for that right now."

"Can't help it," Elladan whispered, a tremor wracking his body. "Oh, gods! Legolas, I need you! Now! I need to feel you inside of me."

"Elladan, what's going on?"

"Just take me, please!" He stared into the archer's eyes, pleading with him to offer him some relief. It would have been impossible to deny him so simple a request, especially when Legolas's own loins felt Elladan's pull and stirred to life.

"If this aggravates your injury, you'll be the one answering to Menelhen, not I," Legolas said as he pulled down the Elf's leggings.

Elladan sighed as his erection was freed and parted his legs, offering the Elf no resistance. At the sight of the twin spread out so invitingly before him, Legolas didn't have the strength in him to fight. He pulled down his own leggings and placed himself between the Elf's knees. Elladan wrapped his legs around him, drawing him near, refusing him escape.

"Do it!" he gasped, he breath coming in ragged pants as his brother's battle raged within him. He wanted to feel Legolas enter him, wanted the Prince to take him hard and fast, in the same manner as which his twin was currently taking another.

Legolas thrust into the dark-haired Elf, Elladan letting out a cry of joy that urged him onward. He thought he'd grown used to the twins' demanding needs, but this sudden fit of Elladan's had taken him by surprise. Elladan writhed beneath him, driving him deeper, tightening around him as if he meant to hold him there. The friction as he moved within the Elf increased as Elladan fell further under control of whatever was possessing him, and for a moment, Legolas thought the twin wasn't there at all.

"Elladan!" he said, pressing his mouth to the Elf, who responded with a vigorous kiss. Legolas was transported, seeing what Elladan was seeing, feeling what Elladan was feeling. He gasped, lifting his head and breaking the connection. As his mind filled with silver eyes, he came hard inside the Elf. Elladan cried out as he came, finding release at the same time as his brother pounded his orgasm into the Healer.

When they had finished, Legolas fell backwards, crawling away from the Prince. His mind was reeling. He tried to sort through the images rolling past his eyes, tried to understand what he had seen. The Menelhen who had stared up at Elrohir--the Menelhen who had taken every inch of the Elf and begged for more--that wasn't his Menelhen. His Menelhen had never been that unrestrained, had never looked at him with those eyes. His Menelhen had never shown him the depths of desire that he had shown Elrohir.

But what terrified him most was how he felt about seeing the Healer being taken by Elrohir. He wasn't angry. He wasn't sad. He was. . . relieved.

Why was he relieved? How could he feel good about something like this?

He shivered, sensing that the Healer and the other twin were returning. "This is wrong," he whispered, rising to his feet.

"Legolas?" Elladan asked, seeing the panic in the Prince's eyes.

"Menelhen and I--we're supposed to love each other."

"And you do." Elladan struggled to his feet, gritting his teeth against the pain in his shoulder and Legolas instantly moved to help him. "You just found each other a little too soon."

The golden Prince frowned. "I don't understand."

"Legolas," Elladan said softly, raising his left hand to the Elf's face. "Here on Middle-Earth, your heart belongs to Estel. It is in Valinor that you are supposed to be with Menelhen."

"How do you know?"

The twin flashed him a quirky smile. "My father isn't the only one with foresight. Menelhen is supposed to be your salvation when Estel is. . ." Elladan swallowed hard, his smile faltering, and he gave a little shrug. His brother was only Human, after all. Though painful to think about, his future death wasn't exactly a surprise, and he forced the words from his mouth. "When Estel is gone."

The golden Prince was silent for a moment, absorbing all of this. Maybe that's what was missing, why he could never seem to give his heart to the Healer--it simply wasn't the right time. Though knowing all this, he could see how Menelhen would be the perfect companion for him when his heart had to face an eternity without. . . his mind balked at the thought.

"I don't want salvation," Legolas whispered, a tear sliding down his cheek. "I want Estel. I want him forever."

"I know, my love," Elladan said, resting his forehead against the other Elf's. "But you can't have him forever. You can only have him now. So why are you here? Why aren't you with him?"

Legolas closed his eyes, shaking his head. "I don't know."

"Then you should go to him," Elladan smiled, and the golden Prince carefully wrapped his arms around the Elf.

"You're as good a friend as you are a lover," Legolas smiled. "Tell me, Elladan, who is your salvation?"

"I am," came a voice from behind them, and they turned to see Elrohir, his eyes once more calmed to their normal blue-violet. "We've always been each other's salvation, and we always will be."

Elladan immediately launched himself into his brother's arms.

"I'm so sorry," he said, and Elrohir chuckled, holding him close.

"I know, but don't worry. You have centuries to amend that."

Elladan lifted his head to scowl at his twin. "Here I am, trying to be considerate for a change and play nice, and you have to go and ruin it."

"Playing nice was never one of your best features, dear brother," Elrohir teased, and his twin arched an eyebrow at him.

"That's not saying much, considering what you just did."

Elrohir's face immediately sobered as he turned to look at Legolas, who was staring past him at the Healer. Menelhen refused to meet his gaze, his eyes staring resolutely at the earth.

"Legolas--" Elrohir started, but the golden Prince shook his head, his eyes never leaving Menelhen.

"It's all right. I'm not angry with you--with either of you."

At his words, the Healer lifted his head, his silver gaze filled with hope. Legolas walked over to him, taking the trembling body in his arms.

"I haven't been fair to you, my gentle Healer, my lovely Menelhen. I'm sorry I haven't been here for you in the ways that you need me to be."

"That's not true!" Menelhen protested, but Legolas silenced him with a smile.

"It is true. All I can do now is beg your forgiveness and ask for your patience. We will be together, one day, and when that happens, I will be yours completely. However, that time has not arrived, and my heart needs to be with another."

Menelhen closed his eyes, resting his head on Legolas's shoulder. He should have known this day would come, when Legolas would finally admit that he couldn't love him so long as Estel was there. He had hoped they would be able to pretend forever, or at least until they left for the Undying Lands, when they wouldn't have a reason to pretend anymore.

"I don't want to lose you," he whispered and Legolas chuckled softly, tightening his arms around the Elf.

"You will not lose me because I will not lose you. You are in my heart, Menelhen. But even though I love you, I'm afraid we must be parted. And, as much as it pains me to say this," he added with a scowl at the twins, "I must leave you in their care."

The brothers' faces instantly brightened with impish smiles.

"Don't worry," Elladan said.

"We'll take good care of him," Elrohir continued, and then they both said in unison, "We promise."

"I'll hold you to that promise, but not yet," Legolas amended, taking one of Menelhen's hands in his, looking into the Healer's eyes. "Tonight, I want to be with you."

Elladan and Elrohir watched as Legolas led the Healer into the woods to seek a more private spot, then Elladan sighed, leaning against his brother. "I'm glad Legolas decided to give him one last night. It's going to be a long time before they're together again."

"Part of me hopes, for Menelhen's sake, that it won't be too long, but the rest of me knows that the longer they are apart. . ."

"The longer Estel is alive," Elrohir concluded. "I'm glad we'll have Legolas to worry about when that time comes or I don't know how we'll survive, and just what is it you think you're doing with your hand?" he snapped, glaring at his twin, who stared back at him with an innocent face betrayed only by his twinkling eyes.

"Peace, brother. I think you're imagining things. At a time like this, do you really think my hand would have nothing better to do than explore the delightful curve of your backside?"

Elrohir's eyes narrowed. "If it isn't your hand, then how do you know where it is? Can't you ever keep your greedy little fingers to yourself?"

"My fingers aren't little!" he protested, his face filled with indignation, and Elrohir yelped as two of those fingers pinched his right cheek.

"You're asking for trouble, big brother," he growled, grabbing Elladan's hands and forcing them away from his body.

"Asking? I'm practically on my knees begging for it," he said with a lascivious grin before his face turned serious. "But first, I have to know why."

Elrohir frowned. "Why what?"

"Why did you do that?" he asked, and upon seeing the confusion in his brother's eyes, found that for once in his life, he had to explain something to his twin. "What happened to you out there?"

Elladan was talking about what happened during the battle. The blood drained from Elrohir's face as understanding flooded his mind. He closed his eyes, remembering what it felt like, the pure terror that had spread through his veins, and should have known he wouldn't be able to forget--that Elladan wouldn't let him forget. Feeling his legs weaken, Elrohir lowered onto his knees, taking a deep breath. "I lost you," he whispered.

"What?"

"I lost you," he repeated, looking up into Elladan's eyes.

"No, you didn't," his twin said, kneeling down in front of him. "I'm right here."

"But you weren't. We got separated during the battle--we're never separated when we fight. I've always got you at my back, and you've always got me at yours. But we got separated, and then you got hurt. I couldn't find you, Legolas couldn't see you--all I knew was your pain. I've never felt anything like that. It wasn't just a physical pain, it was everything--my mind, my heart, my soul, and I didn't know what to do."

"So you decided to lose yourself in the fight. You foolish Elf," Elladan chuckled, taking his brother in his arms. "You were clearly overreacting. Next time, look a little deeper--I'm there. I'm always there. Even if we can't see each other, you should know by now that we will never be separated. You're mad to think I would not find any reason to live and seek out new ways to irritate you."

"You don't irritate me," Elrohir smiled.

"I don't?" he asked, looking disappointed.

"You never have."

"Then let me amend that last statement. You're mad to think I would not find any reason to live when I have not yet reached my goal of finding a way to irritate you." Elrohir arched an eyebrow, and Elladan grinned. "It's a new goal."

"So I gathered," he chuckled, hugging his brother. Nuzzling the slender neck, he closed his eyes, steeling himself for what he was about to say. "Love me, Elladan."

"I do love you."

"No, Elladan," he said, drawing back a little and searching his twin's face. "Love me."

Elladan opened his mouth, then closed it again. He didn't know what to say. He and Elrohir had toyed with and teased each other in order to toy with and tease their chosen victims, and they'd certainly shared lovers, but it had been years since they'd actually made love together, alone, with just the two of them. Not that he hadn't wanted to. The Valar knew his brother was beautiful enough to tempt even the most chaste of Elves--this was a proven fact, and he was far from chaste. He couldn't deny that he had been tempted, but Elrohir had always seemed so content with their prey, he hadn't dared to broach the subject, especially considering the consequences. There was just too much risk involved, too much to lose when they joined together—they had learned this much the last time.

His brother had been silent for too long, Elrohir thought, his stomach clenching in fear. He had gone too far--he never should have said anything. "I'm sorry," the Elf said, jumping to his feet, tears spilling from his eyes. "I'm sorry. Please, forgive me. Forget I said anything."

"Elrohir!" Elladan reached out, grabbing his brother's hand before he could escape. "Elrohir," he said again, his voice caressing his twin's name. "Elrohir," he repeated, and this time the other Rivendell Prince paused at the need in Elladan's voice. Slowly, fearfully, he turned and met his brother's eyes.

"Don't go."

"Please, don't look at me like that," he said, trying to break free from his brother's grasp. "Don't do this because I want to."

"Can I do this because I want to?"

"No--it was wrong of me to ask. You're injured, I'm still feeling the aftereffects of the battle. Neither of us is thinking clearly."

Elladan tightened his grip on his brother's hand and dragged him forward a couple steps. "Elrohir, do you remember what you said to Legolas? You said you were my salvation, and that I am yours, but we're so much more than that. I could never love anyone as I love you."

Yanking on his brother's hand, Elladan pulled Elrohir down onto him, wrapping his arms around his twin's waist as he gazed into the blue-violet eyes that mirrored his own.

"I could never want anyone as I want you," he said, his voice a sultry assurance that sent a thrill through his brother's body.

"Do you mean that?" Elrohir asked, trying to see if his brother was hiding anything from him.

"I do," Elladan nodded, and an indecent smile crossed his twin's face.

"I don't believe you. I think I'm going to need some convincing."

Elladan's eyes widened and he chuckled deep in his throat. "Convincing?"

"I asked you to love me and all you did was sit there. You weren't exactly jumping at the offer. My confidence has been deeply bruised and I don't know if I want to be with you anymore. I'm going to need some time to think," Elrohir said, preparing to rise.

"You little minx," Elladan grinned, grabbing his brother by the hips and pushing him to the ground, climbing on top of the petulantly struggling form. "You think I don't want you?" He nipped at his twin's neck. "You think I haven't dreamt of you. . ." He tongued a nipple through the silk tunic till it was hard and he rolled the nub between his teeth till Elrohir was biting his lip to keep from reacting. ". . . been tormented by the closeness of your body. . ." He lifted Elrohir's tunic and nibbled a circle around his navel. ". . . agonized over watching another take you. . ." He dipped his tongue in and out of the round entrance, then wriggled around in it until Elrohir moaned aloud. ". . . or wished it was you taking me. . ." he ran a finger along the inside edge of his brother's breeches, the nail caressing the skin just above where the silky black curls began.

Elrohir writhed beneath the torture of his brother's caresses, of the teasing touches that were never enough. Nobody knew his body as Elladan did--no one knew better how to manipulate him, to make him beg. Usually, he would do it for fun, just before letting another take control, but this time, there was no other--only Elladan, and this made the fire in his veins burn even brighter. All Elladan had to do was brush against his cock, and he knew he would come. Elladan knew it, too, and drew back from his panting brother.

With a seductive smile, Elladan sat back on his legs and slowly began to undo the laces of his tunic. Elrohir watched with a hungry gaze, devouring each inch of flesh that was revealed. Elladan pulled the sleeve over his right arm and carefully lifted the cloth over his head, gently easing it over his injured shoulder.

Elrohir's eyes widened at the reminder of his brother's wound, but Elladan smiled to ease his twin's fear.

"Just a scratch, beloved. It's practically healed."

Sitting up, Elrohir pressed his lips to the top of the cut, planting tiny little kisses along the length of the wound. Elladan's breathing quickened at the feel of his brother's lips on his skin, the lightness of their touch sending chills down his spine. When Elrohir reached the end of the gash, he continued along Elladan's chest, leaving a trail of feathery kisses down his brother's torso. As he reached Elladan's breeches, he glanced up at the flushed face of his twin and gave a mischievous smile. Purring like a kitten, he rubbed his nose along Elladan's hardened shaft, nudging the tip of it through the leather, forcing a moan from his brother's throat. He rubbed his cheek along the inside of one thigh, then the other, before moving again to bump Elladan's shaft with his chin, prodding it again until he sensed the tension in his brother's body had neared the breaking point, and then he pulled back.

A whimper escaped Elladan's lips as his eyes snapped open to glare at his twin. "You're not finished."

"No, I'm not," he said softly. "Not even close."

Elrohir swiftly leaned forward and grabbed hold of his brother's mouth with his own. Elladan buried his fingers in the silky coal tresses, pushing himself against his twin's lips as if trying to attach himself permanently to the Elf. He suddenly pulled his brother's head back and began kissing the graceful neck, sucking on the skin with teeth and lips until it turned red.

"You are mine," Elladan growled and bit down on the bruised skin. Elrohir cried out, wrapping his arms around Elladan's shoulders.

"Yours," he whispered happily, holding his twin to him. Elladan lowered him to the earth, the scent of the grass mingling with the heightened warm evergreen of his brother to bring out the most basic of his desires. He wanted to plunge into his twin, bury himself deep inside the beloved body and keep going until they were swallowed by the earth.

Removing their breeches, Elladan pressed his face between his twin's legs, smelling and tasting and touching, breathing and licking and swallowing until Elrohir was running through his veins. He moved back up to claim his brother's lips, the taste of them both lingering in his mouth.

"Yours."

They didn't know which of them had said it--it didn't matter anymore. They were the same, no longer separate, but one. Flesh entered flesh, completing the connection, and there was no distinction between them as souls and bodies intertwined. Both accepted, both gave as they breathed in unison, cried in unison, their bodies moving with the same rhythm, their hearts beating with the same force.

"Yours," they whispered.

Mouths joined, tongues tangling as they drew the very air from each other's lungs. Fingers interlaced, arms reaching above their heads as they moved deeper into each other.

"Yours!" they cried, their actions growing frantic, their pace increasing. They could feel it coming, the tension rising. Glowing eyes met and gazes were held as the explosion washed over them, a bright white light that swept them away, carrying the soul that was one from the flesh that separated it.

Two figures lay still on the forest floor, bodies locked together, eyes unseeing. A breeze came along and played with stray strands of ebony, caressing and cooling their heated skin. Its curiosity satisfied, the wind moved on, rustling the leaves overhead as it passed.

It was near dawn when Menelhen and Legolas, both looking smugly satisfied, made their way back to the camp. As they neared the spot where they had left the twins, they paused in shock. Upon seeing the pale bodies lying in the grass, Legolas swore and hurried to their side.

"What's wrong with them?" Menelhen asked as they knelt by the silent twins.

"The bastards! How could they do this? They knew what would happen!"

"What? Legolas, what's going on?"

"Their soul has returned to its original state. It is whole once more," Legolas growled, grabbing Menelhen's hand and holding it back when he would have reached for them, "and it doesn't want to come back."

"How do you know this? Has this happened before?"

He nodded. "They promised that the last time would be the last. They could feel how difficult it was becoming to return, especially since then it took Elrond himself to call them back."

"Is there anything we can do?"

Legolas shook his head.

"Wait, and hope," the golden Prince said sadly, taking the Healer in his arms.

They watched over the brothers for an hour as the sun rose, granting the pale skin a golden glow. The long shadows of the trees began to shorten as the sun continued its path across the sky, and still the twins did not stir. Legolas's heart grew heavy with fear. He had hoped that the length of their separation would have made it easier for them to return, but now he was starting to worry about whether or not he should send for Galadriel, since the Golden Woods were closer than Rivendell.

"My Lord!"

He swore. Lost in his thoughts, Legolas hadn't heard the Elf approach, and nearly jumped at the shout. He rose to his feet and ran over to meet the guard before the Elf could catch sight of the twins.

"Yes?" he said.

"My Lord, we've been searching for you. Gollum has escaped."

Legolas swore again. "When did this happen?"

"We believe it was sometime during the battle. I'm afraid we didn't think to look for the creature until now. We've sent Elves to hunt for it, but so far, no trace has been found."

The golden Prince sighed. Mithrandir was not going to be pleased at this news. "Thank you," Legolas said, looking at the guard. "Return to the camp. I will join you there shortly."

The Elf bowed and left. Legolas waited till he was out of sight before turning back to the twins. His eyes widening, he broke into a run.

"Menelhen, no!" he shouted, but it was too late.

The Healer placed his hand over the twins' and his eyes flashed as he felt himself being transported out of his body. Everything faded--the woods, Legolas, the twins, himself. He grew afraid and was starting to panic when a warm glow surrounded him. The presence comforted him and, as he began to relax, he realized that what he was feeling was Elladan and Elrohir, only it wasn't Elladan and Elrohir, but something much larger. He was enveloped by such a sense of love that he felt himself melting into them. He could willingly lose himself in the immensity of the sensation, in how complete it made him feel, but a flash of gold appeared, a voice calling to him. There was a tug at his heart, and with a gasp, Menelhen separated himself from the warmth.

Legolas!

Once more, the golden Prince's call reminded him where he belonged, and he focused on the feel of the Elf. He could sense himself slowly being drawn back to his body, but first, there was something he needed to do. He reached out for the twins and concentrated on separating them and bringing them back with him.

There was resistance, at first. They didn't want to be parted. They wanted to stay together. Menelhen focused on the sensation of the twins, and sent in their direction memories--memories of how he saw them, of who they were, of things they had done together, and then he sent them images of their father, of Estel, of Glorfindel, of the limited expanse of Middle Earth that he had seen. He wished he could send them images of Rivendell, but he had to settle for Mirkwood's beauty, of Legolas lying beneath the trees, his golden hair spread out around him, the shadows of the leaves playing across his face and bare skin.

That caught their attention. He could feel their interest grow, so he added himself to the image. He pictured himself kissing the golden Prince, his long brown hair with the silver streak brushing across Legolas's chest. He ran his hands over Legolas, the blue eyes glowing in response to his touch.

The twins' attention was now fully on the images he was emoting, so he placed them in the vision, one on either side of Legolas as six hands began caressing every inch of the Prince's skin. Legolas moaned beneath their touch, his body flushing with desire. The twins ran their hands up and down Legolas's arms, then fingertips moving to fondle his calves, his kneecaps, his thighs as Menelhen moved to capture the Prince's full lips.

Fully engrossed in this fantasy, the twins failed to notice when Menelhen mentally grabbed onto them and pulled them back to Middle Earth. He forced them into their bodies, then returned to his own. All three awoke with a gasp, Elrohir and Elladan shivering in each other's arms. Legolas held Menelhen, stroking his hair and whispering soothingly into his ear while keeping an eye on the brothers, watching as they grew aware of their surroundings.

Slowly, the twins sat up and the three dark-haired Elves turned to stare at each other, an indescribable emotion passing between them.

Elrohir cleared his throat. "Thank you."

"Yes, thank you," Elladan said, and the Healer just nodded.

Two pairs of violet-blue eyes moved to look at Legolas, then instantly lowered in guilt. The golden Prince was blazing with fury as he glared at them.

"You promised," he snarled. "You promised! You were lost! And this time, you almost dragged Menelhen with you!"

"Legolas, we're sorry," Elladan said.

"Sorry!" Legolas's body trembled as he tried to find the words to express his anger and disappointment, his fear. There were so many things he wanted to say, but when he opened his mouth, none of them would come out. The emotions were too strong, each one fighting to try and be the first out of his lips.

"Legolas," Menelhen said softly, and the golden Prince looked down at him. The Healer smiled, placing a hand on the flushed cheek. Silver eyes glowing, he brought Legolas's head down near his own. "It's all right. Everything is fine."

As Menelhen kissed him, he wanted to fight, he wanted to yell at the twins, to yell at the Healer for being so careless, but then it just became easier to kiss Menelhen back.

"Don't expect this to work every time," he said, narrowing his eyes at the Elf in his arms. Menelhen just laughed.

"Not every time, but most of the time."

"We'll see, and as for the two of you," he began, facing the twins, who stared back at him with innocent eyes.

"You have nothing to worry about," Elladan said.

"We'll be careful."

"We promise."

Legolas scowled at them. "Isn't that what you said the last time?"

"We mean it this time," Elrohir replied, his hand on his heart.

"Menelhen gave us a good idea of what we would be missing if we didn't come back."

"And that was enough to convince us not only to return, but to remain."

The twins glanced at each other, and Legolas could almost hear their unspoken 'for now'. For now, however, was enough to ease his heart. "Very well. Now that you're awake, get dressed. We need to return to the camp. Gollum has escaped, and I need to get a report of the damage done by the Orcs yesterday."

"Yes, my Lord," Elladan said and, rising to their feet, they quickly dressed. "Legolas?"

"Yes?" The golden Prince turned and suddenly found his arms full of the Sons of Elrond.

"We love you," Elladan said softly.

"Please say you'll never stop loving us, no matter how many mistakes we make."

"Or how foolish our actions, or how angry we make you. I don't know what we'd do without your friendship."

Legolas looked into their frightened eyes and held them to him. "I will always love you, and you will always have my friendship, no matter what you do. Just don't seek to test my words. I would have to have to retract them."

"We wouldn't like that, either," Elrohir said with an impish grin. "We may give you cause to stretch them, but never retract them."

Legolas rolled his eyes. "You two are incorrigible. Come, Menelhen," he said, taking the Healer by the hand. "Let me tell you what I have planned for you if you allow yourself to fall too much under their influence while we are apart."

The crisis averted, the brothers exchanged cheeky little smiles and quickly fell in with the two Elves as they made their way to the camp.

Estel walked through the entrance to Rivendell and paused, breathing in deep the clean air of home. He never thought he'd be so relieved to return to Imladris, but then, he never thought he'd be chased by Wraiths, either. He glanced down at the three Hobbits he'd led to the Elven city and smiled at the unabashed awe and delight he saw reflected on their faces.

"Come, little ones," he said, gently pushing them forward. "Let me be the first to welcome you to Rivendell. Let us get you cleaned up and find you a hot meal, or two," he added with a chuckle, "and then we'll see how Frodo is doing."

"Do you think Mr. Frodo is all right?" Sam asked, his wonder at being so close to the Elves dampened by his concern for his friend.

"I have no doubt that Lord Elrond was able to save him. You can relax now, Samwise. All is well. You are safe here."

He saw to it that the Hobbits were looked after, checked in on Frodo just to ease his mind, then quickly sought out his own room. It had been a hellish journey and he was eager to wash away the layers of dirt and fear and worry that continued to cling to his skin. Since finding the Hobbits, he had barely found the time to breathe. A more unintentionally troublesome quartet of beings he had never known, and the constant concern and care he had to devote to their survival was beginning to wear on him. It was a great relief to hand them over to the Elves, for a little while.

It didn't take him long to readjust to life in Rivendell. As the Hobbits, and Frodo in particular, recovered from their journey, he took long walks with his father, spent many hours in the library with Glorfindel, and simply enjoyed the momentary peace. This peace was broken, however, upon his encounter with Arwen.

Upon hearing of her return from Lorien, his first urge was to banish himself to border patrol, but he refused to allow himself so easy an escape. He needed to speak with her, and seeming to sense his discomfort and his urgency, she sent for him.

"My Lady," he bowed upon finding her seated near one of Rivendell's many waterfalls.

The Elven Princess flowed to her feet, smiling gently at the Ranger. "Aragorn, it is good to see you again."

"And you, as well. I trust your trip to Lothlorien was pleasant?"

"Far more pleasant than the adventure you have just returned from, I am certain," she said, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "I am glad to see you are well. I have met the Hobbits, and can only imagine how trying they must have been at times."

"Trying, yes," Estel laughed, "but also surprising. They are truly one of the most unique races I have ever met, but I have enjoyed their company immensely. For the most part," he added with a wink.

"That is good to hear, as is your laugh. I was afraid that sound would have been lost forever in my presence."

Estel frowned as he gazed at the lovely Elf before him, confused by her words. "Why would you ever think that?"

"I was not certain it would be possible," she said, taking a step towards him, "when I know that I am losing your heart to another."

The Ranger felt a twinge of guilt at her words, knowing that while they were not entirely true, they were not entirely false either. "Arwen, you're not. . ."

She stopped him, placing two fingers on his lips. "It is all right, Aragorn. I know. I had hoped. . ." she trailed off, a sad smile crossing her face, and she shook her head. "But it is of no consequence."

"It is," Estel said, taking her face between his hands. "I still love you, and I still need you."

"And I love and need you, but right now, you love and need him more. I understand this. It is not yet my time--it is not yet our time."

He stared silently at her, wishing with all his heart that he could give her everything she wanted, knowing that he could not. It just wasn't fair, especially to her, Estel thought, enfolding her in his arms. "You deserve better than this. You deserve better than me."

"Perhaps," she said, laughing lightly as she looked up at him, "but I choose you, even if that means sharing your heart."

Smiling, he leaned down to press his lips to hers, placing all his love for her behind his kiss.

"There now," she smiled. "That is all I need, reassurance of your love whenever you can spare it."

"You need more than that, from someone more worthy than I."

"Perhaps, but until I can convince my heart otherwise, I shall have to make do with you. Now why don't you come walk with me in the garden? I wish to hear of everything that has happened to you since we last met."

"It would be an honor, my Lady," Estel smiled with a bow, feeling at ease in her presence, an ease he had enjoyed in his youth and one he was thankful to find again.

As they drew closer to Imladris, Legolas unconsciously began slowing the pace until the Captain of his escort finally called a halt.

"Is something wrong?" Legolas frowned as the Captain turned to him with narrowed eyes.

"I might ask that of you, my Lord. If we go much slower, it'll take us a year to reach Rivendell, and we're only a few miles away."

A faint tinge of pink colored the Prince's cheeks. "Forgive me. I hadn't realized I was falling behind."

"Do you wish for us to stop for the night?"

"No," Legolas sighed. "Let us continue. If we hurry, we can reach Rivendell by dusk."

The Captain ordered them forward and Legolas eased his horse into the line between two guards, trusting the animal to guide itself and keep up the pace, for he was in no condition to do so. He stared blindly ahead of him, oblivious to the beauty of the valley around him. All he could see was a pair of steely gray eyes.

Legolas knew he was being foolish, that he was taking a great risk in seeking out the Ranger. How could he think that Estel would want him after the things he'd done and said? He didn't even know if Estel would be in Imladris. This entire journey could have been made in vain.

However, if Estel wasn't there, then he could return home to Menelhen, to the twins, and finally put aside this part of his life—

No. He was being a coward. If Estel rejected him, the rejection would be well deserved and at least he would finally know whether or not they were meant to be together. But he would find out, that much he promised himself, no matter how painful the response might be.

As they passed through the archway marking the entrance to the city, Legolas gathered himself together and he felt a familiar presence in his heart. He left his escort with the horses, knowing his guards would be well cared for, and asked to be taken immediately to Elrond. The Elf Lord welcomed him with a generous smile, though it darkened somewhat upon hearing Legolas's news.

"This is yet another sign of the darkness gaining dominion over our lands. Mithrandir has only recently arrived and I know he will be anxious to hear your tale. Estel, too, has also just returned from a dangerous journey--"

"Is he well?" Legolas asked, interrupting the Elf Lord before he could stop himself.

"Yes," Elrond said with an understanding smile, "though I fear he came closer to harm than he will admit. One of his traveling companions was stabbed by a Nazgul blade and would surely have perished without Estel's protection."

"He was fighting Wraiths? Just what sort of quest did the Istari send him on?" Legolas demanded, suddenly feeling furious that Mithrandir would so willingly risk his beloved's life.

"A quest of great ease compared to what lies ahead of him." The two Elves turned to see Gandalf standing behind them, the ever-present bemused twinkle in his eyes. Legolas immediately stifled his anger, hoping Mithrandir wouldn't take offense at his reaction. "It is good to see you again, Prince of Mirkwood. I trust your father is well?"

"Quite well, thank you," he said with a bow.

"I'm not surprised. That stubborn old Elf wouldn't stand for anything else."

Legolas chuckled at the Istari's words. "Too true, my Lord. You know my father well."

"Indeed. Now, should you desire to know more about Aragorn's future, I will send for you tomorrow. There is much we need to discuss, and I would wish for your presence."

"At what, my Lord?" the Prince frowned, blue eyes puzzled as he gazed at the wizard.

"A meeting, the outcome of which may effect all the races of Middle Earth."

As informative as always, Legolas thought with a scowl, knowing he was using sarcasm to cover the stab of fear in his heart. "I would be honored to join you, my Lord."

"Good. And please, Elfling, cease with this ‘my Lord' nonsense. You've known me for your entire life. It is about time you act like it."

"Yes, Mithrandir," Legolas grinned and the Istari chuckled.

"You Elves are too damn formal at times, but I suppose it is necessary for at least some of us to be civil. Now be gone with you--you've had a long journey and you look as if you could freshen up a bit."

Both Elves arched an eyebrow at this, and Gandalf waved a hand at them. "As much as you Elves ever need freshening up," he said, and Legolas grinned.

"My Lord, Mithrandir," he said, bowing to them both and then went in search of his room.

"Still in love with your foster son, is he?" Gandalf asked after the Prince had left.

"More so than ever."

"And Aragorn?"

"The same."

"Humph," Gandalf snorted, stroking his beard. "Well, that may be a good thing after all."

Elrond looked at him, wondering what the Istari was thinking, but knowing better than to ask. As always, Gandalf would reveal his thoughts in his own time.

Legolas was hiding. He gladly admitted it--to himself. If anyone else had bothered to ask, he would have denied it, claiming he was resting after the journey from Mirkwood, but of course no one asked, because he was hiding.

He knew Estel was out there. He had sensed him the moment he entered Imladris. Elrond has simply confirmed it, and yet, he did nothing.

"I've got time," he thought. "A couple of days, at least. This can wait. I need to prepare, to think about what I'm going to say. I don't want to make any more mistakes."

As he waited for morning to arrive, his thoughts drifted to Menelhen and the twins, wondering what sort of mischief they were getting into. Elladan had made some comment before he'd left about taking the Healer into the Wilds to expand his view of the world and give him a bit of an adventure. Legolas hoped he had been joking, but from the looks the three exchanged, there was a sense of dread in his heart that told him he had not.

Though, Legolas didn't worry too much--the twins were excellent warriors and could take care of themselves. Plus, they knew that he would kill them both if anything happened to Menelhen. Still, in his mind, it was a very bad idea.

As the light of the sun vanished and was replaced by the blue glow of the moon and stars, the door to his room opened. He rose to his feet, then bowed low as Arwen entered.

"My Lady, it is good to see you."

"And you as well, Legolas," she smiled, walking over to take his hands in hers. "Though I wasn't sure if I would see you at all. Might I ask why it is you insist on concealing yourself here in your room when there are many who would wish to share in your company?"

"Many?" Legolas asked, arching his eyebrow, and her eyes danced with amusement.

"I will admit, perhaps, I am thinking of one in particular. Why do you hide yourself away in here, good Prince, when he is waiting?"

Legolas stepped back to study her face. "You seem at peace, my Lady. Has something happened to change your feelings towards this?"

"Aragorn and I—" Legolas started at the name, and her eyes softened. "You will have to learn to think of him as Aragorn, for I fear he is outgrowing Estel."

"Then he is outgrowing me as well," Legolas sighed, sitting heavily on the bed. Arwen gently sat down next to him, her shoulder touching his in quiet support.

"I admit, a part of me wishes that were true, but it isn't. The more he loses Estel, the more he needs us both. Aragorn and I have spent many hours discussing this, though I am afraid that only he himself will be able to convince you it is true."

"And you have no objections?" Legolas asked, turning to meet her eyes.

"We have reached an understanding," Arwen nodded. "It is simply not my time."

A smile twitched at Legolas's lips as he recalled recently reaching that same understanding with another. Perhaps things were not as hopeless as they seemed. "You have far too beautiful a heart, Arwen," Legolas said, shaking his head in disbelief. "You should be more careful with it."

"I have tried," she said with a dramatic, melancholy sigh, "but it is very willful and I have little control over it. Be strong, Legolas. He will need your strength."

The golden Prince leaned down to kiss her ivory cheek. "Thank you, my Lady."

"Do not thank me," she said, shaking her head. "Keep him safe for me, Legolas. That is all I ask."

"I will guard him with my life."

"I know," she said, then turned towards the door, pausing only once to look at him, smiling sadly. "Go to him, Legolas. Do not make him wait any longer. Do not make yourself wait any longer."

Stripping off his clothes, Estel eased his aching body into a hot bath and closed his eyes. He had spent the day sparring with Glorfindel, and his old tutor had reminded him in a most painful fashion that he still had a thing or two to learn. With his sore muscles enveloped by the steaming water, Estel was the most comfortable he had felt in months, and he soon found he had drifted off into an easy slumber.

"You're filthy," said an amused voice behind him, and he smiled.

"Why do you think I'm taking a bath?"

"Sitting in water is not the equivalent of bathing," the golden being said, kneeling down next to the bathtub. He soaked a washcloth in the water and, after wringing it out, lifted up the Ranger's arm. He began cleaning the dirt from Estel's skin, all the while keeping his sapphire gaze locked onto Estel's steel blue eyes.

"You don't have to do this."

"I want to," Legolas smiled. "It has been too long since I have explored your skin. You have new scars for me to memorize, to touch, to taste," he said, licking a white line on Estel's forearm from a recently healed cut, causing Estel to shiver, "and this will help me discover them all."

"I have missed your scrutiny," he said as Legolas lifted his other arm and began bathing it.

"I have missed scrutinizing you," the Elf chuckled. Estel sharply drew in his breath as Legolas brushed the cloth over his freshly scraped knuckles, causing the skin to sting.

"Shh. . ." Legolas said, lifting the hand to his lips and kissing each wounded knuckle. "It's all right, I'm here now."

Gently placing the arm back on the edge of the tub, Legolas rinsed out the washcloth and began wiping the grime from Estel's shoulders. Water dripped from the cloth down the Ranger's chest, leaving tingling trails down his skin, and Estel felt himself stir beneath the water's surface.

Legolas pretended not to notice, rubbing the rough cloth over the Human's chest, giving unnecessary attention to his stiffening nipples. Moving slowly down Estel's stomach, the edge of the washcloth dipped into the water. As he moved back and forth over the taut stomach, the trailing washcloth created ripples that bounced against his hardened shaft. Estel's lips parted with a soft moan, his eyes glazing at the teasing of the water's touch.

"Almost finished," Legolas said softly, his own face flushed with desire.

Estel shuddered as fingers wrapped the washcloth around his manhood and began moving up and down, cleaning him and hardening him completely. "Legolas," he whispered.

"Shh. . ." the Elf smiled, and leaned over to kiss him. Even as the soft lips met his, the hand on his member increased its pace. He delved his tongue between Legolas's lips, the golden Prince pressing hard against him. Seconds later, he cried out his release into Legolas's mouth.

In that second, Estel's eyes flew open at the realization that the mouth on his wasn't a dream, that the hand wrapped around him was solid and not a phantom memory.

Pulling away, his heart stopped to see a pair of blue eyes surrounded by waves of golden hair.

"Legolas?"

"Hello, my love," the Elf smiled.

Estel quickly climbed out of the bathtub, Legolas rising and backing away to avoid being splashed, watching as Estel grabbed a robe and tied it tight around him.

"What are you doing here?" the Ranger demanded.

"I came to Imladris to deliver a message to your father—"

"No," Estel interrupted, moving to stand directly in front of him. "What are you doing *here*?"

"Well," he said, continuing to keep the teasing edge to his voice, "we just finished a lovely kiss, and before you woke up, I was—"

"Legolas!" Estel snapped, causing the Prince to wince at the barely subdued anger in the Ranger's voice, and Legolas quickly repented. Keeping his gaze on Estel's face, he took a deep breath.

"I need you," he said softly.

"What?" the Ranger growled, unable to believe he had heard Legolas correctly.

The golden Prince looked directly into Estel's eyes, then fell to his knees before the future King as the words rushed from his lips. "I need you. I want you. I love you. I don't want to spend another second of my life without you. Please, Estel, forgive me for being a fool. I thought I was protecting you until I realized I was just protecting myself, trying to keep myself from being hurt, but being away from you, hurting you, was far more painful. Tell me you can forgive me. I will do anything you ask, perform any penance you wish, just please, do not send me away. I cannot live without you. I know I've said this before, and that you have no right to believe me now, but Estel, please, you must believe me."

"Or what? What if I don't believe you?"

The Elf's eyes fell to the floor. "If you tell me that you do not love me, that you do not want me, I shall die."

"Again?"

He watched as Legolas's body tensed, then the golden head nodded. "Yes, again, but not from a broken heart this time. I shall die because I have hurt you beyond all redemption and I do not deserve to live."

Estel stared at the Elf kneeling before him, his body nearly bursting with joy at Legolas's plea. He would forgive Legolas anything, he knew this, but he wasn't going to risk his heart--not again, not without knowing for certain that Legolas was speaking the truth.

"Stand up," he said, his voice harsh.

Trembling, the golden Prince rose to his feet.

"Look at me."

Slowly the Elf raised his eyes.

"I love you, Legolas, but I refuse to go through this again. You say you will do anything, you say you cannot live without me, but how do I know you are telling the truth? How do I know you mean it this time? Because you say so? Because you give me your word?"

Legolas's eyes flashed and he quickly drew a small knife from his boot. He held the point of the blade to his heart and grabbing Estel's hand, he wrapped it around the handle. "Kill me."

Estel just stared at him. "What are you doing?"

"If you do not trust me, then I am useless to you. I will not leave you, so if you want to get rid of me, you must do it. Kill me, Aragorn, or accept me! My life is in your hands."

Estel's eyes went wide with shock and he blinked, shaking his head. "You called me Aragorn," he breathed.

"That is your name, is it not?" Legolas said, snarling with impatience.

Estel's mouth curled into a smile as he let the knife fall to the floor. "You called me Aragorn," he said, then taking the Elf's face between his hands, he kissed him.

Legolas's eyes grew big, his body stiffening with surprise at the sudden change, but then he melted into Man's touch. He couldn't believe this was happening, that he was once more being held by Estel. "I love you," he said, wrapping his arms around the Ranger.

"I love you, too," Estel said, holding him so tight, he thought he heard the Elf's bones creak, but Legolas didn't complain. "So you're never leaving me again?"

"Never," the golden Prince answered.

"And you'll do anything I ask in order to stay with me?"

"Absolutely anything."

"I've missed you, Legolas," he said, drawing back to look at the Elf.

Legolas studied the expression in Estel's eyes and his mouth curled into a smile. "Have you, now?"

"Very much."

"I've missed you, too," he said, loosening the laces of his tunic. "Tell me, my love, how can I begin to make amends for my foolishness?"

"I think you're off to a good start," Estel said, walking back until his legs hit the edge of his bed, and sat down.

His smile broadening, Legolas pulled his tunic over his head, and Estel gasped as he was reminded once more of the Prince's beauty. His eyes roamed over the glowing white and perfectly toned skin, drinking in every inch of Legolas. His hands twitched with the urge to touch the Elf, the blood rushing between his legs.

Legolas's fingers began tugging at the ties to his breeches, slowly pulling on one, and then the other. Estel licked his lips as the Elf unstrung the laces from the leather, his lungs feeling heavy as he struggled for breath.

"Come here," he said, his voice rough with need.

Legolas walked over to him and Estel grabbed him by the hips, then pulled him close, holding him between his legs.

"I need you, Legolas," he whispered, grazing his teeth across the graceful neck, easing the breeches over the Elf's hips. "I need you inside of me."

The golden Prince released a shaky breath as molten lava surged through his veins. With trembling fingers, he untied Estel's robe. Pushing the cloth over the broad shoulders, he began kissing a trail across the Ranger's chest, his tongue flicking at a stiffening nipple.

Estel moaned, his fingers digging into the pale skin. "I see you haven't lost your touch."

"Not where you're concerned," Legolas grinned, then pushed him down, the two crawling up the length of the bed until they were both spread out on the mattress, the Elf's mouth never once leaving the Man's.

"I need you now, Legolas," Estel said, holding back the waves of silken gold with his hands as he looked up at the beautiful face.

The Elf nodded and groped for the vial of oil he knew Estel kept by his bed, relieved to discover it was still there. He poured some onto his fingers and reached between the Ranger's legs, seeking the entrance there. Keeping his eyes on his love, he pushed one finger inside, pausing as Estel's breath caught in his throat.

"Don't stop," he said, shaking his head, and Legolas continued to move inside of him. He moved his finger in deep until he brushed the tiny gland, causing Estel to moan with delight. Legolas eased another finger into him, and then another, stretching him until he felt the Ranger was ready.

"Now, my love?" he asked, not wanting to do anything without Estel's permission.

"Yes, now!" he said, his fingers digging into Legolas's hips.

Placing the tip of his Elfhood at Estel's entrance, the golden Prince eased into the tight heat of the Man he loved.

"Faster," Estel said, clutching at Legolas's buttocks, urging him deeper.

The Prince chuckled as he gazed down at the Ranger, increasing his pace as ordered. "Is it me, or did you misplace your patience during the time we were separated?"

"Quiet, Elf, and hurry, or I'll flip you over and take you myself."

Legolas leaned down, his mouth next to Estel's ear, and whispered, "Mmm... I can feel you inside of me already."

Estel's eyes widened and his body shuddered as Legolas's words pushed him over the edge. The Elf was so surprised by the Ranger's reaction that he came as well, spilling himself into the Man.

Breathing heavily, he collapsed onto his side, staring at Estel with a hint of wonder. "Well, you wanted faster."

Estel turned his head to look at him, and grinned. "Only so we could get to the next part. It's a good thing you're already on your back--makes things so much easier for me."

"Anything you wish, from now on."

"Promise?"

"You have my word."

"Your word is just the beginning," Estel purred, gazing at the Elf through lowered lashes. "I plan on having as much of you as possible."

Laughing, Legolas grabbed Estel by the neck and pulled him over for a kiss. "I love you," he said between chuckles.

"And I, you. I just hope you've been getting plenty of sleep lately, because I plan on keeping you busy for the rest of the night."

"Actually, my reverie has been somewhat restless for a while now."

"Then I'm sorry to say this, my love, but you're going to be exhausted tomorrow," Estel grinned, and kissed him again as he straddled the golden Prince, ready and eager for the next round.

It was the brightness of the morning light on his face that disrupted his reverie. Legolas blinked at the glory of the sun, stretching and disturbing the weight beside him. Estel murmured in his sleep, tightening his grasp around Legolas as the Man fell back into his dreams.

Smiling, the golden Prince rubbed his hand over Estel's arm, kissing the top of his head. He felt absolutely amazing, as if he had been reborn, as if he had been made whole again. He was no longer empty, missing the final piece that made him complete. Estel was his, and he was Estel's, no matter what name the Man would come to be known as. All he knew that was that he would allow nothing to ever separate them again.

"Estel," he whispered softly, and the Ranger stirred, making a sound of protest. "Estel, beloved, wake up. We need to go. Your father is expecting us."

"Let him wait," the Ranger murmured, holding tighter to the Elf. Legolas just laughed.

"I'll tell Elrond--and Mithrandir--you said that, while you stay here and sleep. Personally, I'm not that brave, so I'm getting up."

Struggling out from Estel's grasp, for the Ranger was reluctant to let go, Legolas quickly dressed, fully aware that Estel's eyes were on him the entire time.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, and Legolas smiled, walking over to Estel and kissing him.

"But not as beautiful as you. Come, get up, and I'll find you something to wear."

Estel sighed and crawled out of bed, splashing his face with water while Legolas dug through his wardrobe. He slipped into the tunic and leggings the Elf had chosen, and then the two made their way through the halls of Imladris to an archway that led out into the sun.

"Are you ready?" Legolas said, sensing Estel's hesitation.

"Of course," he said, taking the Elf's hand in his. "I have you."

"Always."

Sharing a final kiss, Aragorn and Legolas smiled at each other and walked through the arch to join the Council of Elrond and the fate that awaited them both.