Part 11

Posted: November 2003
Author: Larien Elengasse

*~*

Third Age, October 11th, 2952, Last Homely House, Imladris

Aragorn sat on a long bench in Elrond's private garden, waiting for Elladan to take his daily afternoon stroll. Legolas was enmeshed in meetings with the Lord of Imladris and he needed to talk to his foster brother. He had not spoken with Elladan since the night of the party or since entering into his ‘relationship', for lack of a better term, with Legolas. He needed to understand what was happening, he needed to know that Elladan still loved him, and he prayed that Elladan still wanted him. His head hung down as he idly drew patterns in the dirt of the pathway with the toe of his boot, and he felt he had the weight of Middle Earth upon his shoulders.

Elladan stood at the entry of the garden, spying Aragorn through a tangle of flowering bushes. He sighed heavily as he watched his beloved foster brother struggle with the decisions he would soon have to make. It was his place to help Aragorn, as he always had, it was his place to help him become the man that all of Middle Earth would one day need him to be. "Oh, Estel, tithen gwador. (little brother)" he whispered. He shook off the shroud of melancholy that hung about him and squared his shoulders, entering the garden, pretending he had not seen Aragorn sitting there.

"Mae Govannen, Estel," he said politely as he approached his foster brother and one time lover.

Aragorn quickly rose to his feet and stepped forward, trying to force a smile upon his face, but failing miserably. "Elladan, where have you been? I went to your quarters this morning and could not find you, then I went to the library and Erestor said he had given you a few days off from your duties. When I could not find you there, I sought out Elrohir, who said he had not seen you since the party. Have you been hiding from me?"

Elladan smiled sadly and reached out, his fingers caressing Aragorn's jaw line. "No, Estel. I have not been hiding. I needed a few days to think through things, to make some decisions, that is all."

Aragorn frowned. "What sort of things? What decisions?"

Elladan guided Aragorn to the bench and bid him sit beside him, and the young man obliged. He took a deep breath before answering, "You are a man now, Estel, in every way. A path lies before you, that path is your destiny; and no matter how good my intentions, no matter how much I wish to protect you, I must let you walk that path. I must let you find your own way, I must let you go."

Aragorn shook his head. "No, Elladan, you need not think that way. My destiny is of my own choosing, and I choose to reject my right, I choose to be a simple man."

Elladan smiled and caressed his foster brother's cheek, and Aragorn pressed his face into it. "Estel, you cannot make those choices based on selfish needs. You are not a simple man, you never will be. One day, much will depend upon choices you make now. You are a son of Kings, descendant of the line of Númenor, heir to the throne of Gondor. It is up to you to reunite the peoples of Arnor and Gondor, to reclaim the glory of men and lead them into the future. You cannot refuse that destiny because of something so selfish as desire."

Aragorn frowned and shook his head gently. "Nay, it is not just desire, a'maelamin. I love you, Elladan. Is not love more important than duty? Is not love more important than honor?"

Elladan's expression grew stern and he grasped Aragorn's chin. "Nothing is more important than honor, Estel, nothing. Without your honor you are lost, remember that." He drew Aragorn into an embrace. "You can have love and honor, you can love and still fulfill your destiny," he said softly. "You just cannot have those things with me. I will always love you, Estel, I will always be proud of you; you will always be my brother."

Tears began to fall from Aragorn's eyes and he clutched Elladan tight. "I cannot leave you, Elladan, not now, not when I finally have all I have ever wanted." He took a shuddering breath. "Please, Elladan, do not turn me away, do not let me go."

Elladan blinked back tears that threatened to fall. After all those years of riding away from his foster brother and hearing his voice calling his name, this was no less painful. He took a deep breath and steeled himself against his own weakening resolve. He pulled out of Aragorn's grasp and replied coolly, "If you will not leave me, then I will leave you." He extricated himself from Aragorn's arms and tried to walk away but the young man would not let him go. He turned and looked down into his foster brother's tear stained face. "Let go of me, Estel, please."

"Please, Elladan. Tell me what I have done; tell me what it is that makes you want to leave me. I can change, I can be different, give me a chance, please…" Aragorn pleaded.

Elladan clenched his teeth, the muscles in his jaw tightening against his wavering resolve. "You cannot change who you are, Estel. You cannot be different. Do not make me hurt you, do not make me push you away. I beg you, please do not make me do that."

Aragorn released his grip and let go of Elladan. He felt like he was falling into a bottomless cavern and he felt a reeling wave of sickness wash over him. He turned away from Elladan and looked at the ground, he could not bear to look on him any longer.

Elladan's heart felt as though it would break; and as he turned and left Aragorn sitting upon the bench, he walked on shaky legs out of the garden.

* * * *

Elrohir smiled as he watched his lover training the new recruits for Imladris' border guard. He listened to the quiet yet insistent instructions, watched the looks of approval pass from tutor to pupil. Haldir was a master archer; he had never met one better with the bow or with a keener eye than that of his lover. In addition to his skill, he possessed a serene confidence that made him a superior warrior. Haldir was far older than he was, though not as well traveled; the Galadhrim tended to keep to their own borders, occasionally travelling to Imladris. Elrohir often felt younger than he really was in Haldir's presence, and that feeling was increasing as time went on. The fact that he vocalized his love to Haldir and his lover did not respond was not lost on him; he was wiser than he appeared to many. What caused Haldir to hold back was a mystery to him; he could not imagine what he had done to create such hesitation in his lover. He could only watch, wait, and continue to offer himself to Haldir, and hope that one day the Silvan archer would trust him enough to open his heart.

He leaned against a pillar with his arms crossed over his muscled chest, his head cocked in quiet reflection. A hand upon his shoulder caused him to jump and he turned to look into his twin's pewter eyes. "Elladan," he whispered, noting the look of sadness on his elder brother's face. "What is the matter? Are you all right?"

Elladan shook his head and leaned into Elrohir's arms, taking comfort in his younger brother's embrace for the first time in many years. He sighed as Elrohir stroked his hair and he buried his face in his brother's neck. "I have done the hardest thing I have ever had to do, Elrohir," he whispered.

Elrohir whispered in return, "What, Elladan? What have you done?"

Elladan lifted his head and pulled back, gazing into his twin's eyes. "I have let him go."

Elrohir said nothing for a moment, a look of quiet understanding passing from him to his twin. He then took Elladan in his arms again and whispered into his ear, "Oh, Elladan. I am sorry, I know it must have been so difficult. You love him so much and he has wanted you for so long."

Elladan began to tremble in his brother's arms and Elrohir led him away from the training grounds and back to his room.

* * * *

The door to Legolas' quarters swung open and the grumbling Prince strode through the doorway, muttering, "Damnable meetings, tiresome trade negotiations. How do you do it, Ada?" He stopped in his tracks when he saw a clearly upset Dúnadan sitting upon his bed. "Aragorn? What has happened? You look terrible," he said softly. He crossed the room and sat beside the young man on his bed.

Aragorn rubbed his face, a rough scratching sound coming from his unshaven face, and heaved a sigh before turning to look at Legolas. The Prince's kind eyes and soft deep voice were a comfort to him, even in this time of profound sorrow. "Elladan, he left me," he answered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Legolas took Aragorn in his arms and cradled his head upon his chest. "Oh, Aragorn," he whispered, "I am so sorry. But you must have known this day had to come, you cannot be King and keep your foster brother as a lover. How could that be fair to either of you? One day, you will marry; you will have a son and heir. Elladan knows this must be, he did what he did to help you, not hurt you."

Aragorn pressed Legolas to the bed and covered the elf's body with his own. He caressed his face and stared into his bright eyes and whispered, "I hope you do not tire of me so soon, Legolas. For then I will truly be alone."

Legolas smiled and combed through the young man's hair with his fingers. "We are all alone, Aragorn, in the end." He pulled Aragorn closer and pressed his lips to those of his lover, yielding to his advances and his touch. He would do what he could for now, give the Dúnadan what he had until it was time for him to strike out on his own.

Aragorn savored the elf's flesh with his mouth, his hands roaming possessively over the firm muscles in Legolas' chest. He moaned quietly as the Prince's hands roved down his back and over the swell of his buttocks.

Legolas arched beneath him and moaned softly, his legs falling apart and allowing Aragorn to come to rest between them. "Do not fear, pen neth," he whispered breathlessly, "I will always be there when you need me." He uttered a feral growl as Aragorn's lips toyed with the point of his ear. "Ai, take me, Aragorn," he growled, "Show me the King you will become."

Aragorn smiled against the sensitive flesh of the elf's ear and he slid a hand in between them, grasping Legolas' arousal and stroking it fervently. "You yield to your King?" he whispered playfully.

Legolas chuckled softly before another moan escaped him. "Aye, I do, my Lord," he breathed. He groaned as his tunic flew open, buttons flying across the bed. He arched into his lover's commanding touch, the muscles in his abdomen rippling beneath the Dúnadan's hands. He was already hard, his arousal throbbing within the confines of his leggings, the tedious business of the day long forgotten. He gasped as Aragorn's teeth latched onto his nipple and he wadded the young man's hair in his hands. He was being assaulted by hands and questing fingers, by lips and teeth and tongue. His fingers clawed at the suede of the young man's doublet and Aragorn grunted in frustration, as it seemed he could not get out of his clothes fast enough.

Aragorn rose from the bed, tugging at the laces of his breeches with fingers that no longer seemed to work. He watched as Legolas' hands covered his own, stilling his frantic pawing. He looked into Legolas' eyes and found a wellspring of serenity and comfort, even in the midst of intense passion. It was at that moment he understood what the elf had told him but a few days before; that it was Legolas that he would come to lean on, that it was Legolas who would stand by his side in his darkest hours, that it was Legolas that would smile upon him when he most needed it. Elladan was his first love, his brother, his tutor, and in some ways his father; but it was Legolas who would show him what it meant to be the man he had to be. The elf's long fingers unlaced his leggings and slowly slid them over his hips, exposing his manhood. He closed his eyes and wavered as Legolas' lips caressed his pulsating arousal, and he felt the elf's hands come to rest upon his hips, steadying him.

"Sshhh… melethron nín," the elf's honeyed voice whispered, "We have plenty of time."

He nodded slowly, taking a deep breath as he relaxed into Legolas' bewitching touch, and felt himself being drawn toward the bed. He looked down at his new lover and came to rest on top of him. Long, slow, heated kisses, soft, tantalizing touches were driving him onward, and he lost himself to them and tried to put the loss he felt behind him.

* * * *

Elrohir held his twin in his arms as they sat upon Elladan's bed. A few tears had silently fallen from his brother's eyes, and that was all it had taken to wound his heart. He and Elladan felt one another's pain, read one another's thoughts, and shared one another's joy. His heart ached now for Elladan and he wondered how long it would take his brother to recover from this loss. A soft knock upon Elladan's door roused Elrohir from his reflection and he softly called, "Enter."

Lindir came through the door and bowed his head, covering his heart with his hand. "My apologies, my Lord," he answered, "I did not realize you were here."

Elrohir released his brother and watched in surprise as Elladan rose from the bed and crossed the room to Lindir, seeking the minstrel's embrace. Lindir wrapped his arms around Elladan and whispered into his ear; Elladan nodded and clutched Lindir tighter, it was then Elrohir understood. He rose from the bed and crossed the room toward the door, stopping as he reached Lindir and Elladan. The look he gave the minstrel could not have been mistaken for anything other than what it was, an open promise: Hurt my brother, and I hurt you.

Lindir nodded in acknowledgement as Elrohir departed the room and he released the breath he had been holding when the door latched closed. He led his lover to his bed and lay down with him, holding Elladan in his arms and stroking his hair. He said nothing, but merely held his lover in his arms until he fell asleep.

*****

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