You Said We Used To Be Lovers 4

You Said We Used To Be Lovers

Part 4 - Resolution

Posted: November 23, 2007
Title: You Said We Used To Be Lovers
Author: Jay of Lasgalen

*****

As he found himself responding to Legolas’s touch and his gentle, skilled caress, Elrohir’s apprehension slid away. Somehow, despite the unfamiliarity, he knew this, and welcomed it. As Legolas began to thrust into him, he yielded fully, opening his body and mind to the loving touch. And as he felt the gentle brush of Legolas’s mind against his, the dark wall that had blocked his thoughts and memories began to break apart, crumbling under the resurgence of their bond.

As the wall broke, a flood of memories spilled forth, a slow trickle at first, but rapidly building to a raging torrent which overwhelmed him. Something lanced through his head like a bolt of lightning, and he gave a cry of pain, tensing as the dam shattered.

Dimly, over a great distance, he could hear Legolas, his concern and horrified questions, and sensed that he was trying to pull away. Gasping, he seized Legolas’s wrist in a vice-like grip, clinging to him as desperately as a lifeline as he drowned in memories. “No,” he choked. “Not – not you. Please – do not leave me …” He swallowed, struggling for control. “M – memories. Everything …” He squeezed his eyes shut as the headache increased to blinding intensity, and the brutal onslaught of fifty years of memories swamped him.

There were fleeting images, disjointed pictures and scenes that at first made no sense, but gradually formed into a whole. There were faces and voices, remembered joys and sorrows; an immense grief when he saw the face of a young warrior who had been killed five years before. There was Glorfindel, sodden and bedraggled, his golden hair hanging in rats-tails as he stood in the Bruinen, swearing awesomely. There were patrols and training classes, and the remembered glow of pride when he had been commended for a solo mission particularly well done. There was a heart-stopping moment of pure, blind terror as he saw Elladan go down beneath an orc’s blade. Memories – his memories. His life.

Throughout it all he saw Legolas – smiling at him, laughing, teasing Elladan or Arwen; eyes dark with passion, or flushed and dishevelled after loving. Slowly the pain faded and the flood of memories eased as he gained control once more.

Gradually he came back to himself, his heart pounding. Slowly he realised there was someone holding him close in a gentle embrace, soothing him; murmuring his name over and over mixed with soft, nonsensical words of comfort. Blinking, he opened his eyes and turned towards the voice.

The same image was before him now – Legolas, face drawn with worry, gazing down at him in fear. He frowned. Was this real, or another memory?

“Legolas?” His voice sounded dry and harsh.

Some of the tension in Legolas eased. “Yes. I am here, Elrohir.”

Joy filled him as he realised that this was here, now – and Legolas was still at his side. He smiled, and drew Legolas down to him, head against his shoulder, full of love for his woodland prince. “Always,” he murmured. “Always.”

Exhausted by the flood of memory and tumult of emotion, he wrapped his arms around Legolas, holding him close. “Never leave me,” he whispered as sleep overtook him.

He felt rather than heard Legolas’s reply; a gentle touch against his mind. “Never.”

o-o-o

Elladan was drifting on the verge of sleep after leaving Elrohir and Legolas, when he was jerked awake by a bewildering deluge of emotions from his twin: fear; joy; grief; pain; mirth; love. Confused and worried, and still half asleep, he was across the room in an instant, his hand poised on the door to Elrohir’s room, when he stopped. Through the slight opening he could hear the low murmur of Legolas’s voice, soothing and gentle. He hesitated, listened for a moment longer, then turned away. He was not needed. Legolas would never do anything to harm Elrohir. If they were together, Elrohir was in safe hands.

He returned to bed and fell into dreams, unaccountably dreaming of Glorfindel falling into the river; his heart lighter than it had been for many weeks.

Rising again in the soft dark before dawn, he dressed for his patrol, then returned to Elrohir’s room and glanced in. “El?” he whispered. “I am leaving now. I will see you later …” He paused at the sight of his brother and his mate lying tangled together in sleep so closely entwined, any distance between them very clearly bridged, and smiled.

“Well. Thank the Valar for that!”

He backed out silently, closing the door behind him.

o-o-o

Elrohir awoke at the slight click of the door. “Elladan?” he called softly, but the room was empty. He lay still for a moment, recalling with awe the night before; revelling in the feel of the slow, steady heartbeat against his chest, and the gentle brush of breath on his face.

He probed at his memory tentatively, but the wall of darkness that had clouded his mind for so long was gone. His thoughts and memories were his own once more, and the constant, nagging headache that had been with him for so long had vanished.

Propping himself on one elbow he gazed down at Legolas, fingers trailing through his hair as he brushed the blond strands from his face. The love he felt was so intense it hurt; especially as he remembered the coldness with which he had treated Legolas. How could he have done that? How could he have forgotten their bond?

He brushed his lips against Legolas’s temple, then drew his tongue across, circling the rim of his ear from the point to the lobe and back up to the point again. Legolas sighed, smiling as he slept. Encouraged, Elrohir repeated the caress, circling his ear again then tracing a line down to his throat, kissing the tender skin there. He could feel a growing hardness against his thigh as Legolas responded to him and roused from dreams. As his eyes cleared, Legolas smiled at him. “Elrohir,” he murmured.

He kissed Legolas gently. “Yes. I am back, I think.” He sighed, and drew his lover’s head down to his shoulder again, running a hand through his hair. “How could I have forgotten? Forgotten us – forgotten how much I love you?”

“But you remember now?” Legolas asked drowsily.

“Aye. Nearly everything, I think. And most of all, I remember this.” He grinned as he began to launch a slow, sensual attack on Legolas, preying on all the secret, vulnerable places that he alone knew. His touch now was sure and certain, quite unlike the hesitant fumbling of the night before. He smiled wryly – he had acted like a shy youth, tentative and nervous before his first lover. Now, though, he intended to make up for that. His tongue ghosted across Legolas’s chest, swirling each nipple in turn and suckling gently, until Legolas arched against him with a desperate cry. “Elrohir!”

Elrohir chuckled. He loved to do this – a few swift, sure touches could reduce Legolas to mindless pleading as he begged to be taken. Just as easily though, he could turn the tables until Legolas was as aroused and wild as a stag in rut – and that was his goal now.

Legolas responded in kind, his kiss deep and passionate rather than the gentle, tender caresses he had used before. A hand twisted into Elrohir’s hair, pulling him down into a devouring kiss, and Legolas thrust upwards helplessly, rubbing himself against Elrohir’s aching erection.

Elrohir tempered his touch into an enticing, sensual caress, his hands and mouth roaming everywhere until Legolas was wild with need and longing. At last he relented, and poured a little oil onto his hand, stroking it over the steel-hard shaft before him.

Regaining some semblance of control, Legolas gripped his hand. “Elrohir,” he gasped. “Are you sure?”

Elrohir’s tongue darted into the whorl of his ear, shattering that control. He twisted and rolled, pulling Legolas on top of himself. “Oh yes,” he breathed, “Very sure.” He gave a low moan of pleasure as Legolas took him with a hard thrust, then another, and another, plunging deeper each time. Needing to feel every inch, Elrohir wrapped his legs around Legolas, pulling him even closer.

Their love making was fast and fierce, and quickly over. He could feel the warning tightening of his own body, and with a harsh cry exploded into orgasm, a warm splash of fluid pooling on his stomach. There was a final deep thrust, and then he felt the hot flood of Legolas’s seed within him. A blaze of colours bloomed behind his eyes as the familiar, loving touch caressed his mind.

Sated and dazed at the intensity of their loving, he drew Legolas down upon him.

He lay with his head on Elrohir’s shoulder, their arms and legs still entwined. As his racing heart rate slowed, Elrohir turned his head and gently brushed a tear away from his mate’s cheek. “You are crying,” he murmured.

Legolas gave a soft laugh. “So are you,” he pointed out, with the familiar gentle smile that Elrohir loved so much. He licked at a few salty tears, and kissed Elrohir again. “I missed you so much,” he whispered. “I missed this. I missed us. I love you, Elrohir – never forget again that you are mine.”

“Never.”

o-o-o

It was midmorning before they awoke again. Elrohir stretched, blinking as a shaft of sunlight dazzled him, then turned to Legolas. “Good morning, my love.”

Legolas gave him a brilliant smile, then frowned disapprovingly. “You seduced me!”

Elrohir nodded lazily. “Yes, I did,” he agreed. “But it was hardly against your will. And it was not for the first time, either – nor the last!”

“Mmm – I do hope not,” Legolas responded, his hands disappearing beneath the thin sheet.

Elrohir evaded the groping hands reluctantly. “Enough!” he commanded. “We have already missed breakfast, and it will soon be supper if you do that!”

“I can think of worse ways to spend the day,” Legolas pointed out. Then he sat up, his expression serious. “What happened last night? When you cried out, I was so afraid that I had hurt you. I thought I had made a terrible, terrible mistake; pushing you too far, too fast.”

Elrohir shook his head. “It was no mistake – and you could never hurt me. I am sorry I frightened you. It was – it was like an explosion in my mind. I felt I could not see, or feel, or breathe through the pain. I thought I was drowning under the flood of all the memories that had been dammed up.” He smiled at Legolas. “But through it all, I knew you were there.”

“And you remember now? The battle? Everything?”

“Everything, I think. I remember the battle, or most of it. We were down in the south of Imladris when the warning came, and we joined forces with the patrols. The orcs had come across the Hoarwell by cover of darkness, and attacked at night. The villagers would not have stood a chance – there were women and children there, too.” He paused, remembering. “We had destroyed nearly all the orcs, but then – Elladan went down. A blade slashed his leg to the bone – there was so much blood!” He stopped again, closing his eyes against the memory and the image of Elladan lying in a crumpled heap on the ground, blood soaking into the soil beneath him. “Legolas, you were standing over him, still fighting with two orcs, when another came behind you. I ran forward …” he hesitated again, then shook his head. “I still cannot remember anything after that.”

“One of the orcs managed to evade the other warriors,” Legolas explained. “It came towards us swinging a great spiked club – I do not think you even saw it. It hit you so hard!” He shuddered, and continued in a whisper, “I thought you were dead … but I could not leave Elladan, and there were still orcs to contend with. By the time they were all dead and I finally reached you my heart had turned to ice. I have never known such fear …” He fell silent, and Elrohir touched his hand in reassurance.

“I am here now.” He grinned in a sudden change of mood, and slid out of bed. “Now come – it is late, and someone will soon coming looking for us!”

o-o-o

He had bathed, and was half dressed when there was a brief knock at the door, and Elrond came in. “Ah, there you are. You missed breakfast, and I wondered …” He stopped, gazed at Elrohir, then smiled. “You look remarkably well! What has happened?”

Elrohir grinned. “I am very well, father! My memory has returned – all of it. I can remember the battle, everything.”

Elrond smiled again, and hugged him. “That is wonderful news! But what …” His eyes fell on a vibrant love bite on his son’s throat that Elrohir had not even noticed at the time, and his smile faded a little. He nodded at the mark. “Is that anything to do with your sudden cure?”

Elrohir grinned, quite unrepentant. “I decided to take matters into my own hands. Do not blame Legolas – he tried to tell me he thought it was a bad idea, that we should wait, but I would not listen.”

“I do not blame Legolas. I know he would never do anything that may harm you. I also know how stubborn and forceful you can be at times. I doubt he had much choice in the matter!”

Legolas appeared in the doorway of the bathing room, drying his hair. “I did not try that hard,” he admitted. “I am sorry, Elrond – I know you asked me to do nothing to force his memory to return.”

Elrond shook his head. “It just proves that I was wrong. I should have trusted you both to follow your own hearts and minds, even if Elrohir did not fully know his. And Elladan said right from the start that it was a mistake.” He sighed. “There is just one thing that concerns me.”

Elrohir stared at him, startled. “Concerns you? What?”

Elrond gave a sudden grin, looking remarkably like his sons when they had been at their mischievous worst. “It is scarcely a cure I can suggest to others suffering from a loss of memory!”

*****

previous | Chapter Index |

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to: Jay of Lasgalen