An Affliction Of The Heart 16

An Affliction Of The Heart

Part 16

Posted: January 25, 2008
Title: An Affliction of the Heart
Author: Larien Elengasse

Summary: Elladan and Elrohir come together; Thranduil and Glorfindel come to a realization; Legolas sees trouble.

*****

Elladan lay in his bed, facing the wall. The emptiness inside him was numbing and the sound of his own breathing was nearly driving him mad. Silence was not something he was well acquainted with. All his life there had always been something to listen to, even when he was alone – and that something was the presence of his twin. Just as he had done earlier when he was with Legolas, Elladan had once again shut Elrohir out, and in the place of his twin’s always comforting presence, there was nothing but black emptiness.

“Get used to it,” he murmured to himself. “This is how everyone else lives, do not be such a simpering elfling.”

He heard footsteps outside the bedchamber door, then a hand upon the latch. He quickly closed his eyes and feigned sleep as Elrohir entered the room.

“Elladan?” Elrohir called softly. “Are you awake?” His twin did not answer; however, Elrohir could tell by the rhythm of Elladan’s breathing that his brother was indeed awake.

Something that Elladan did not know was that Elrohir did not often sleep through the night, and when he would wake he would watch his twin sleep, counting the number of times his chest would rise and fall in the space of a minute or two. Elrohir would delicately creep close, listening to the slow, quiet sound of the air as it filled Elladan’s lungs. A few moments of this would lull him back towards reverie, and then he would softly tip toe back to his own bed and find rest.

Elrohir swallowed a painful lump in his throat. He understood now that his ever-present need to be close to his twin was not what he had once thought. He had always believed that it was because they were brothers and best friends that he wanted to be near Elladan. What he realized now was that they were both always seeking that which they had before they were born – they were both trying to be that close; they were both trying to find that place where nothing came between them. The closeness he could recall from those first moments before he could walk or even utter a sound was something that defied explanation. There had been a sense of comfort, of belonging, of complete and unconditional understanding that had somehow been interrupted when they came into the world. True, they were closer than many, they could sense, feel, and hear one another’s thoughts; but that sense that nothing or no one else existed but that closeness, that bond, had been interrupted the day they were born and Elrohir had been seeking it ever since.

He knew, as well as Elladan knew, that when one elf committed himself to another they forged a bond that transcended the world they lived in – a bond that continued on even when one passed into Mandos’ Halls. That bond existed between their parents, between their grandparents, and between all other elves who had willingly entered into marriage or partnership. One could have a lover, indeed, many lovers, without ever experiencing that bond. It was a voluntary pact that required the commitment and belief of both partners to exist.

That same type of bond is what existed between him and Elladan – Elrohir understood that now. Even though neither of them had spoken the words or had stood before their family and the Valar, they shared that bond of the heart and fëa. They had always, and always would belong to one another. What Elladan had asked of him was that final step, to return to the physical closeness that they had shared before they were born, and he had allowed years of teachings about the laws of the Eldar to cloud his thoughts and had turned his brother – his soul’s mate – away.

But no more.

He did not creep this night, nor did he softly tip toe. Taking a deep breath, he strode boldly toward his twin’s bed. He sat on the edge, grasped Elladan’s shoulder, and turned his surprised brother to face him.

“I will not lose you just because you caught me off guard and I was tongue-tied and confused. I will not lose you just because I was not brave enough to do this…” and with that he took Elladan’s face in his hands and kissed his twin soundly on the mouth.

The response was immediate and nearly desperate. Elladan’s hands were in his hair, his twin’s tongue plundering his mouth as he arched into his elder brother’s embrace. Soft, needful moans were coming from both of them as Elladan pulled Elrohir further into the bed, pressing their bodies together as they drank from one another’s mouths. To his own surprise, Elrohir was practically tearing Elladan’s sleeping gown off, desperate to feel his twin’s skin against his own, and Elladan responded by yanking Elrohir’s sleeping gown over his head. That first touch of flesh against flesh caused them both to moan and shudder. In all the nights and days that they had spent with Legolas, nothing that either of them experienced in the prince’s bed had compared to this overwhelming sense of completeness, of love, and of white-hot desire.

Strangely enough, Elladan began to laugh and tremble at the same time. Elrohir wrapped his arms and legs around Elladan, and brought his lips to his twin’s ear. “What is so funny?” he purred.

“I do not know,” Elladan answered. “I am just so . . . happy.”

Elrohir smiled and nibbled Elladan’s ear, causing his twin to shiver in the most delightful way. “So am I, brother,” he whispered. “Make love to me. Make me yours.”

“You are mine, and always will be,” Elladan murmured, then he rolled atop Elrohir and plundered his twin’s mouth.

* * * *

“What did you say?” Thranduil mumbled sleepily, snuggling closer to his lover.

“I said nothing,” Glorfindel answered, stifling a yawn as he tightened his embrace just a little.

“Yes you did, you were saying something about not going home.”

Glorfindel furrowed his brow then his eyes opened wide in surprise. “Thranduil Oropherion, were you reading my thoughts?”

Thranduil blinked and raised his head, frowning as he looked into his lover’s eyes. “Do not be obtuse, Glorfindel. You know I do not have that ability.”

“But I did not say that aloud, and I am not obtuse.”

“I did not say that you were obtuse, I said that you were being obtuse, there is a difference. And you must have said that aloud. How else would I have heard it?”

“I am telling you, I did not say it aloud. And what is the difference between being obtuse and . . . being obtuse?”

Thranduil furrowed his brow. “Being obtuse means you are essentially and inherently obtuse, and being . . . oh, for Manwë’s sake! I am telling you that you must have said it aloud or I would not have heard it.”

Glorfindel grasped Thranduil’s jaw. He was trying to be serious, but both the dawning realization of what this meant and his lover’s mild exasperation over semantics were making it difficult not to smile.

“You do know what this means, do you not?” Glorfindel asked.

The same realization began to dawn on Thranduil, and a smirk began to bloom on his lips. “That you are obtuse?” A sharp crack to his naked backside made him bark in surprise, then chuckle.

“It means, you impish king, that without even trying we have formed a bond of the fëa.”

“Is that even possible? I thought there had to be ceremonies, vows, and the like. You know, rings, declarations, etcetera.”

“It appears that it is; either that or you have suddenly developed an ability that you heretofore did not possess.”

Thranduil grinned. “Or perhaps you did say it out loud and you are obtuse.”

Glorfindel grasped Thranduil by the hair and pulled him close. “Oh, shut up and kiss me, Sinda.”

“Mmm… gladly.”

Their mouths and bodies moved against one another as if they had been doing so for an age. Thranduil was the love of his life; Glorfindel realized that now. Something else he realized was that since their hearts had found one another, he had not thought about Idril or Gondolin.

* * * *

Legolas woke with a start, gasping as he sat straight up in the bed. His eyes narrowed and he emitted a sound akin to a low growl, then he threw back the covers, fumbled a little for his robe, and departed his bedchamber in a rush. Using the wall to guide him, he made his way quickly to his father’s bedchamber and pounded upon the door. “Father!” he called. “Something is coming, we must rouse our warriors!”

Thranduil threw open the door and caught Legolas by the shoulders. “What is it Greenleaf?”

“Wake Glorfindel. Something is coming.”

“What? What is coming?”

“I cannot tell what it is. Please, Ada; I am telling the truth.”

Glorfindel joined Thranduil in the doorway, wrapping his robe around him. “The prince is correct, my love. I can feel it too, just now.”

“All right. Return to your chambers, Greenleaf. Glorfindel and I will take care of this.”

“But . . . I need to…” Legolas growled in frustration. Every nerve in his body was telling him to arm himself and prepare for battle. But how could he do battle with what he could not see?

“Please, Greenleaf. I need to know you are safe from harm.”

Legolas nodded, distress and frustration evident on his face. “Very well, but you must be careful. Whatever it is, it is very bad. This is no mere orc raiding party.”

Glorfindel caught Legolas by the wrist as the prince turned to leave. “Do not tell Elladan and Elrohir. They are not ready for this and it is my responsibility to keep them safe.”

Legolas nodded. “Aye. Watch over my father, Glorfindel.”

“I will, my liege.”

*****

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