And Ends With A Broken Heart

Posted: July 2003
Title: And Ends With A Broken Heart
Sequel to: It Begins With A Kiss
Author: LadyHawksShadow
Rating: R
Characters: Elrond/Elros
Disclaimer: These characters all belong to Tolkien and his estate. I do not profit from their use.
Special Warnings: Slash Twincest.
Beta: Larian Elensar
Timeline: Second Age
Author's Note: Alex_Cat did this fantastic story about why Elrond allowed Isildur to walk away with the One Ring and I was completely captivated by her reasoning. (To read her great short story, please visit www.ofelvesandmen.com) and she graciously allowed me to borrow her concept. Though, she may not recognize it as I have added my own twist to the mix. Nauta Aragorn also has inspired me with her fantastic Elros/Elrond as children story arc currently being housed on yahoo groups lordofimladris.

Tolkien had this to say about two of the most important elves in Middle Earth history:
Elros and Elrond Peredhil were born FA 525.
Elros ruled the Numenor from SA 32 until his death in SA 442 (410 years.)
Vardamir, referred to as the Uncrowned King, was born SA 61, Died SA 471. He never accepted the rule of the Numenor and, instead, passed his crown on to his son, Tinomiel. (Source: Encyclopedia of Arda).

However, I am playing a little loose with these dates (as Tolkien frequently did) for the purpose of plot.

Summary: Elrond and Elros walk different paths.

*~*

Elrond lay with his head on Elros' chest listening to his heartbeat beneath his ear. His strong hands were stilled on Elros' body, resting lightly on the strong muscle. Elrond smiled in the darkness as he remembered their passionate lovemaking. When their lips had touched, a spark had ignited and within minutes their clothes were a heap on the floor and they writhed in each other's arms. Someone had knocked on the door, once, as Elrond was being stripped of his leggings. It had taken all of his willpower to keep his voice steady as he told whoever was outside his door that he was fine and to go away.

Long before the party being held in the main hall in their honor was over, Elrond and Elros were asleep in each other's arms. Elrond had awakened, though, not long after midnight. He did not disturb Elros, just cuddled as close as possible and savored the moment. Soon, he would discover Elro's plans for his future and from there Elrond knew it was only a matter of time before his brother left Lindon. Elrond refused to think about it. Time would reveal what the fates had in store for Elros and him. Closing his eyes, he went back to sleep.

Days rolled in to one another with each one bringing Elros closer to the painful decision, his last one, he hoped, that he had to make. He knew he had to leave Lindon, leave the elves, and most disturbingly, leave his beloved brother. Dreams haunted him and he dreaded going to sleep at night. If it were not for Elrond's warm arms around him, Elros doubted he would ever sleep again. And what would he do, then, when he could no longer rely on Elrond? Elros refused to think on the matter, refused to face the truth. His brother would soon be beyond his grasp.

The time for him to cross the sea and join with the Numenor drew near. He had put it off for so long, even after he had made his decision to become mortal. He knew he should have departed immediately, but delayed and delayed, wishing only to stay with his brother a little longer.

He stared out the window, hands clasped behind his back, and waited. He knew Elrond would come to him. He only had to wait. And plan. And, perhaps, offer a prayer to the Valar for a way to make it right, to lessen Elrond's pain. To find away for them to say good-bye without bitterness or anger or tears was his greatest hope.

Behind him, on the bed, lay a small case, all he intended to take with him. He kept his journal, his sword and circlet, and a few changes of clothes. Where he was going, he would not need a fancy wardrobe. Not yet. There were men who would resist his intentions, who would resent he, an elf, coming to them and banding them together and making himself king. He would have to tread carefully. He would have to be human. As for mementos, there were few enough of those, anyway. They had left the Havens as children with only the clothes on their backs. There was nothing of his life with Maglor that he wanted. What he would have taken with him to Numenor from his life in Lindon had to remain behind.

"Elros?" Elrond tread softly over the carpet. He had received word that Elros wanted to speak with him. He had approached his twin's room, a room that neither had been in since the night of their coming of age, with trepidation. In the harbor, a ship rode low. The sails told Elrond that his brother would be gone with the shift of tide and wind.

Elros turned as the door clicked shut and he watched as his tense brother placed his back against the wall and clasped his hands at his waist. Elros allowed his eyes to travel from Elrond's head to his soft-soled shoes. He wanted to memorize every detail. He wanted to sear his memory with the image of his brother. He stared in to the calm gray eyes and watched as all emotion fled from his brother's features, leaving behind a regal elf devoid of feeling. Elros wanted to scream and tear his hair. He wanted to remember Elrond with his wide smile and eyes sparkling with love; not this grim caricature.

"I have to leave."

Elrond stared for a long moment, saying nothing, finding no words. His mind screamed in agony. During their short time, his emotions had ranged from euphoric to despairing. The fulcrum was rage, a rage that he dared not show any more than he dared show the sheer joy he found in his brother's arms or the despair he felt when he thought of Elros' departure.

"I know," he said simply, calmly, as though discussing what the king's cooks had planned for the evening meal. In an effort to avoid displaying his turbulent emotions, Elrond had taken the only option open to him. He locked them away. He worked in the library, studied and learned more about the healer's arts. He went to sword practice. All of the things an elf needed to know, he learned, and he felt nothing. For to feel would be to hurt; he could not allow himself to hurt in that fashion, for if he did, he would unravel.

Elros took a deep breath. "We can spend a few hours together, if you like. Or, I can go now."

Elrond stood stock still, his thoughts awhirl. He wanted to tie Elros to the bed and never allow him to leave. He wanted to storm from the room, giving his brother the cold of his back for a farewell. He wanted to weep, but he could do none of those things. He had only a few hours with his brother. He forced his wide mouth to bend upwards in a smile and his gray eyes to show the love he felt in his heart, even though he could not show joy.

Elros relaxed and came forward in a rush of robes. His hands came up and brushed his lover's long, dark hair. He leaned forward, pressing his lips to Elrond's and felt an immediate response as his lover opened his mouth beneath his gentle assault.

"I would remember you thus, my lover." He breathed in to Elrond. "I would remember your grey eyes sparkling with love."

"Then you shall have your wish, for I shall not part from you with words of sorrow." Elrond wrapped his arms around Elros and slowly backed him towards the bed. He pushed Elros on his back and began kissing and sucking at his pointed ear until Elros hissed and writhed beneath him.

With shaking hands, he unbuttoned Elros' robes and pushed them aside to reveal the undershirt. He steadied his nerves and unlaced the shirt, baring his lover's smooth chest to his trembling hands. He kissed a sensual path from Elros' collarbone to his navel and paused to dip his tongue in side the depression. Elros' hips pressed down in to the mattress and his hands fisted in the soft dark tresses.

Dipping lower, Elrond took a moment to pull loose the laces holding Elros' breeches closed before pulling them from slender hips. He lowered his head and took Elros in to his warm mouth and sucked gently.

"Elrond, my love," Elros' head lifted from the mattress and he stared the length of his body to where his brother knelt between his legs. "I would have you inside me."

Elrond hesitated and a looked at Elros though a curtain of hair. Never before in their recent relationship had he been inside his lover, always preferring to receive his brother's essence in to himself. He allowed the heavy cock to slip from his mouth as he licked his lips.

"Are you certain, my love?"

Elros struggled to sit up. He kissed Elrond deeply. "Ai, Elrond, I am certain. Here, let me undress you." He put actions in to words and gently began to disrobe Elrond, taking his time to kiss and tease and pet and stroke his lover as he peeled away each layer of clothing.

By the time Elrond's clothes were heaped on the floor, both elves were panting and hissing with desire. Their mouths battled constantly for supremacy and their hands never stopped roving over each other's golden bodies.

Elrond reached to the bedside table and extracted a small vial of oil and Elros laid back on the bed with his thighs parted. Coating his fingers, he slipped them inside Elros' tight opening and slowly prepared his lover. He touched the bundle of nerves deep in his lover's body, and Elros' hips lifted clear of the mattress.

At that moment, Elrond knew Elros was ready and climbed between his bent legs. He nudged the tiny hole in his brother's body and pushed inexorably forward. He felt the ring of muscles give way before him and he sighed deeply as Elros' arms came up around his neck.

Pulling his lover close, Elros cast his gaze towards the ceiling. "Please, grant me this one wish, I beg you." He whispered.

"I shall treasure this for all time," replied Elrond thrusting deep.

"I pray we both do, beloved." Elros moaned.

Later, Elrond stared out the window from Elros' bed. His lover had gathered his clothes and his belongings and left quietly, without fanfare. There had been no tears or pleas. They had shared a long, last lingering kiss and then Elros was gone. Elrond lay in the rumpled bed and composed himself. He placed his mask on, the one he'd worn since the coming of age ceremony and took his emotions, without bothering to examine them, and placed them in a secret part of his heart where none could find them. Not even himself. And then he locked away his heart, where no one could find it. Not even himself.

Elrond sat beside Gil-Galad at the high table, as was his right as the Standard Bearer to the High King. He and Gil-Galad had become something more than Standard Bearer and Liege as the years after Elros' leave taking grew. Though the high king never truly had all of his heart, he and Elrond were content with their relationship.

Emissaries from the Numenor came and went regularly, reporting the activities and asking the advice of the wise elf and his council. Therefore, when a herald entered the room and announced that a man bearing a message, no one was surprised. Gil-Galad rose and straightened his tunic and prepared to receive the messenger.

The man entered slowly and gazed around in rapt wonder at the elves. In his hands he bore a large wooden box that he held tightly, as though afraid he might drop the contents. He was young enough to be in awe of them, having never been truly exposed to them before. He stepped towards Gil-Galad and bowed low.

"Welcome to Lindon," the high king bowed in return. "How may we serve you?"

"I have come bearing a message for Lord Elrond," the man replied shakily.

Elrond jerked and looked from the guest to his king and back with some confusion. "For me? Are you certain?"

The emissary lowered his eyes and his voice was a hushed whisper. "Aye, Lord, I am certain. If you be Elrond Peredhil, then what I have is for you and you alone."

"Use my private study, Elrond, to receive your guest." Gil-Galad reclaimed his seat. The gaze he leveled at Elrond was full of sympathy and understanding.

"Thank you, Sire," Elrond rose and motioned for the visitor to follow him.

Once inside the library, Elrond closed the door and faced his guest. "So Elros is dead."

"Forgive me, my lord, he is. I was sent to bring you this. His last orders were that you receive this at all costs." He knelt and bowed his head, holding out the box.

Elrond wiped his palms on his robe in an uncharacteristic display of nerves. He accepted the coffer and walked towards the mahogany desk. He'd last seen the box over four hundred years ago and the heart that he'd locked away suddenly chose that moment to break free from its confines.

"Thank you," Elrond said softly without turning around. "You will find refreshments in the great hall. A servant can make arrangements for a bed, if you desire it."

The messenger climbed to his feet and bowed silently to Elrond's back before he opened the door and exited the room.

With the sound of the door closing, Elrond finally dared breath. He felt moisture on his cheeks and wondered that, after all this time, he could grieve for his brother. He'd never stopped missing him. Never stopped loving the one who insisted on a different path. Elros had died many years ago, when he'd chosen to become human. That his body had ceased to function should not now cause grief. Shouldn't and didn't and couldn't and what if. Empty and meaningless musings one and all.

Elrond lifted the lid and gazed lovingly at the contents. Wrapped loosely in a silk cloth was the mithril coronet that Elros had received from Gil-Galad at his coming of age. Beside it lay a heavy, leather bound tome. Elrond's breath hitched in his throat as his long fingers glossed over Elros' journal. Extracting the journal from its bed of velvet, Elrond flipped it open and thumbed through the pages.

He did not read deeply or with any real intent, only scanned each linen page, savoring the smell of ink and delighting in seeing this one little bit of his brother. Foolishly, he relished the sprawling script, as though the style of the writing were a part of the author that formed a bond. Perhaps it did. Elrond frowned over a word on a page and flipped backwards, looking for the beginning of the reference.

His long neck arched and his brows drew down. A dry tongue met with even drier lips. He swallowed and began frantically shifting through the journal, his dark eyes searching and searching. His palms were moist and his head was light. Tight bands constricted his chest. Then he saw it. A name. Vardamir. Elros' heir. His son. His son.

A date of birth was registered. And, later entries, revealed the name of a grandson. But what Elrond wanted he did not find. His heart felt as though a cold hand gripped it and he did not know whether to laugh or weep. Elros, his clever brother. Too clever. How had he managed it? What magic, what devilry made such a perversion possible? Had he known, that last time together? Probably.

Elrond closed the book and placed it back in the wooden chest and replaced the coronet. The lid was put snuggly back on and he took the box to his rooms and placed it on a shelf. Never again was the box referred to by the elves who witnessed its passing in to Elrond's hands and all knowledge of it faded from memory, just as the one who Elrond loved above all other faded from memory. Only Elrond remembered. Only he knew the truth of the Numenor lineage.

"Isildur!" Elrond screamed the man's name as the foolish new and uncrowned king turned from the chamber. Ash swirled around Elrond; lighting sparks along his cloak. Elrond, focused on Isildur, ignored them.

Elrond's hand moved to the hilt of his sword and the deadly weapon partially cleared its sheath. Even as Isildur reached the cavern's opening, Elrond moved forward, prepared to kill Isildur and take the ring by force in order to see it destroyed. At the last moment the man turned and Elrond froze. His sword slammed back down in to its sheath. One look in to those eyes and Elrond unraveled.

"He is so tiny, Ada," Arwen glanced at the small bundle balanced in the crook of Elrond's arm.

"He will grow in time."

Her brown eyes opened wide. "Will he grow in to an elf?"

Elrond's heart constricted. "No, Arwen, he will grow in to a man."

Mithandir's hands fisted on his hips. "We must rely on the strength of men."

"Men? I was there when the strength of men failed," Elrond hissed. And his heart cried. And his mind whispered it's long kept dark secret. But like many things in his life, Elrond pushed the voice away, shut it back in its box, the way he locked his heart away in a box. The way he'd locked his brother's journal away. Where none could ever see it. So none could ever know.

THE END

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