Learning to Love a Brother (NC-17; Elladan/Elrohir)
Title: Learning to Love a Brother
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Characters: Elladan / Elrohir
Prompt: 002 (“I am not the master of the law, and cannot set it aside.”)
Word Count: 3, 636
Rating: NC-17
Summary: The twin sons of Elrond develop unnatural desires for each other, and risk everything to learn the art of loving.
Author's Notes: This story is an experiment on a narrative style that I am unfamiliar with. I can only hope that it does not send all you readers to sleep.
It began, as with many things in those who achieve their majorities to find themselves waking into a world so distant from the safe womb of their childhood, as but a little curiosity.
Some may wonder what event had instigated it, for surely such a thing would not have been conceived by an unprompted mind on its own? Yet many would forget that they were never alone. No, they were always a pair, and as there are a number of things that could only be fully accomplished by the presence of two bodies, it is not entirely impossible that they had arrived at the curiosity simply by following the twisting pathways of their imagination.
They never discussed it, for it was a thing that could not be discussed. There are words that cannot be honourably uttered between blood siblings; and one could not be closer kin than they and still remain separate.
Yet communication can still occur without language. The flicker of an eye, the bending of one finger, the position of the hands when the arms are crossed; through these they spoke to each other in a continuous stream, having known such secret signs even before they had known light. It was through this that they knew; they were of the same mind.
However, being of Noldorin descent and with an eventful heritage to consider, they were fearful of the consequences, especially if they were discovered. They resolved to stand firm against it, and hope that more natural desires would arise in time.
Unsated, in their minds insatiable, the curiosity evolved into a longing, and the longing into a craving. Having left childhood, their bodies were awakening, as nature intended; but it seemed to them that nature had dealt, in their case, too cruel an irony. For as their unrivalled fairness could have granted them any bounty within the realm of their father and mother, their first desires were for that singular one that they could not have, the only one to match the beauty of either; and that was each other. The whole business was, without a doubt, against nature, and though it felt akin to love, were not the dark forces of the world especially dangerous because they seemed, at first, fair and harmless?
Despite their growing ardour, they would have been too frightened to act upon it if it were not for an encounter with their father.
Elrond, Master of the Last Homely House, came upon his sons as they were walking to the library. They would never know what gave them away; was it the conspicuous distance between them, the absence of touching where the twins had once been inseparable, or the slightest flush on their cheeks? His face grew grave as his keen eyes flickered from one to the other, and the fear on their faces may have been the stamp of confirmation. He quickly took them to his office, making sure that no others were about, and bolted the door firmly behind them.
“It grieves me that such a thing has arisen in my own house,” he began after a short silence, fixing both twins with an intense gaze, as if searching them for further secrets. “That no whisper of it has reached my ears is a small comfort; it seems you two are capable of discretion when it is needed.”
“Ada, nothing has transpired between us,” Elladan, the older twin, spoke up. He met his father’s eyes without fear, for it was true that neither of them had dared to act on their shared longing.
Elrond nodded. “So I see. Yet you forget that I am a healer, both of the body and mind, and I deem it is something that will not pass on its own.” He sighed heavily, and for a moment it was as if he was very far away. “I have seen its like before; perhaps I should have been expecting it, for you two were ever closer than mere brothers.” The Lord of Imladris wrung his hands. “I need not tell you that, both of you being male, such acts are against nature’s design, and for that alone you could face scorn for the remainder of your lives; that both of you are brothers- nay, twins!- pits you against all laws of blood.”
Elrohir paled, and cried, “Please, ada! Is there no hope for us? You are a healer, and our lord besides.”
“I may be your lord and father, but that will only worsen the consequences if this is discovered. I am not the master of the law, and cannot set it aside; it is deeper, and older, than the hills of this valley, than any rock or tree found on this Middle-earth. You will receive no blessing or pardon for this, either from me or from the Powers in the Far West.”
Ashamed and stricken nearly to tears, the twins bowed their heads, and would have sworn oaths to rid themselves of what seems to be a curse; but Elrond spoke again. “Yet I am healer, as you said, Elrohir. And as a healer, I must urge you to- to confront this whilst your minds are still clear.” Though his face was impassive, the words sounded as if they were being wrung from his throat. “The desire will grow worse over time, and may drive you to recklessness. It will grow into an obsession that cannot be cured, until you either forget all discretion, or turn all love between you to hate. Best if it were lanced before it becomes poison.”
Their eyes grew wide at realising what their father was suggesting. After several tense moments of silence- for what could they say?- Elrond sighed and dismissed them with a nod. But as they reached the door, they heard behind them, in a far gentler voice, “Thus far you have loved only family. The time will come when you will find your life’s love.” The twins, having frozen, now glanced over shoulders. Elrond had seated himself behind his desk. Later they would wonder if they had seen him make the faintest smile, or if it had been a trick of shadow. “But perhaps, to love another, you must first learn to love yourselves.”
Their father’s words troubled them, and for the next few weeks, neither could think about much else. It became clear that Elrond was correct, at least, on the desire growing worse. When both began reacting physically to the other’s proximity, they began to fear the outcome that their father had spoken of. It was difficult to judge which was worse: perpetual discrimination or hatred between them. Finally they decided that the issue had to be resolved. At the very least, they would stand together to face what may come after.
They chose a night when the House would not be too busy. They knew that they could not use their rooms; their parents and other members of the household were only a few doors away. So Elrohir found a small storage room near the smithy, in a separate building from the main house, that had enough space between the crates and sacks for both of them. Being of quite meticulous minds, they began retiring for bed early a week before, so as not to seem conspicuous on the night itself.
On the appointed evening, after separately taking their leave of their parents and friends in the Hall of Fire, they visited their rooms to pick up a small bag each, then departed with the aid of a tree growing outside of their adjoining balconies.
But once they were safely in the storage room, with the door carefully locked and blocked by a crate, they could only stare at each other, unable to obey their shared desire after resisting it for so long.
Their first kiss was one between brothers, chaste though heartfelt. They lingered on the brink, savouring that single point of contact, fearing to cross the forbidden threshold though the craving for the other had grown to be nearly unbearable.
As one, their lips parted, and then it was a losing battle for control, for restraint, as they devoured each other with the unheeding hunger of the starved. Knees grew weak, so they clung to one another, strong hands gripping at a shoulder, a waist, a neck, holding on as the world spun away into the night and left them in a universe of feeling. It was as if a flame had been kindled within their very flesh, and it grew the more they touched each other. Garments were shed; whether to cool or feed the hungry fire, it was difficult to tell.
When they came back to themselves, they were lying side-by-side upon the floor, as bare as the day they had emerged into the world. It was as if they had surfaced from deep water, but that first wave of desire had cleared their minds a little. Their love rose to the fore, beating back the flames. For a very long moment, they could only gazed at one another, and both thought that the other had never looked so beautiful, so perfect. Their worries about these desires being the touch of evil evaporated in the face of the love that pulsed between them. Others would scorn and condemn, but they could feel the rightness of it, deeper than blood.
Elrohir reached out to trace his brother’s ear, and Elladan mirrored him. Both knew that this had been the first image their infant eyes had registered: each other.
“It can end here,” Elladan whispered. His finger floated down to his twin’s sinuous lips. “I feel as if we have been born once more.”
Elrohir dropped his finger to Elladan’s shapely nose. “But is it gone?” he whispered back.
Deep grey pupils flecked with silver gazed at their mirror image. And it was truly a mirror- Elladan had nine flecks in the right eye and eleven flecks in the left, whilst Elrohir had nine in the left and eleven in the right.
“Nay,” Elladan finally said. “The need is still there. But do you not think this too fast?”
Elrohir frowned. “It would be, if this were a normal courtship.” He absently tapped his finger against the tip of Elladan’s nose, then moved the digit down to slide over the collarbone in a tender caress. Elladan shuddered, and closed his eyes at the sensation. “But this is not a courtship, Elladan. Or, rather, it is the end of one. We have known each other even before we were born. There are no secrets between us; there cannot be. Our lives, up to tonight, is our courtship.” His voice became quieter, a mere wisp of breath. “But it must end here.” That was another thing they had agreed on; to risk all in one night, or never.
“What is tonight, then?” asked Elladan, his soul filling his eyes.
“Nothing.” Elrohir flinched at the look of hurt that crossed his brother’s face, and kissed softly the finger that was still idly tracing his lips. “Nothing, and everything. It cannot be anything, Elladan. You must understand this,” he said gravely, meeting his twin’s gaze. “But you are my first love, and that is everything.”
“You, too, are my first love,” came the whisper that brought an end to speech.
Moving in unison, they embraced each other, and took the fire into their very souls. As would be their custom for the rest of their lives, the elder bore the leader’s burden, and led the way. This did not mean, of course, that the younger twin was passive. Both had a warrior’s pride, and Elrohir made sure that his twin earned his dominance for their first joining.
When Elladan finally managed to climb on top of his brother, Elrohir slid down to take a stiff brown nub into the heated wetness of his mouth. Revelling in the unique taste of his brother, so like and unalike to his own, the younger twin flicked his tongue at the sensitive nipple, gently biting it before traversing to the other one, which he suckled so eagerly that a round red imprint remained behind on the sun-kissed skin. Elladan pulled him up before he could travel lower, and sealed their lips together even as he used a knee to part Elrohir’s powerful long legs.
Both of them moaned at the feel of their arousals sliding over each other’s. Their identical physicality was evident even in that most intimate of places. But the movement of their bodies alone did not create sufficient friction, so Elladan reached down and curled a hand around them both. Moaning, Elrohir lowered his hand as well, and by interlacing their fingers they created a tight tunnel through which they could thrust with the synchronism of two beings grown from the same soul.
They reached completion together, each brother crying out the other’s name as warm white liquid spurted out onto their bellies. Elladan attempted to move off to allow his brother to breathe, but Elrohir threw an arm over him and kept him in place, relishing his twin’s warmth and weight.
Gradually their heartbeats calmed. Thinking that, having reached the peak of pleasure with each other, they had sated their unnatural desire, and prepared to clean up. But once the pleasant haze had dissipated, the fire returned, more ferocious and consuming than before.
They did not need to speak. Their gaze at each other said, It is still there. More, it cried, more!
Being complete strangers to the mechanics of coupling with members of the same gender, they could not fathom how to fulfil this need to be even… closer, to one another. It wanted a more intimate contact; inside, inside, as if they were male and female. But how to accomplish this, when only elleth had the necessary openings for such an act?
It was Elladan who discovered it. Feeling helpless, he thought to try substituting lust with love, and covered his twin’s neck with wet kisses. Lust and love warred, then merged; lust became a way to show love. He licked his way down Elrohir’s muscled torso, lovingly biting the smooth skin- smooth, that is, but for a light dusting of small hairs marking a path from navel to groin.
For a moment, he felt a surge of envy for his brother’s future lovers. But, he reminded himself, he would always be the first to have touched Elrohir in this manner. Jealousy retreated. Still, he wanted to memorise every inch of his brother. His hands mapped his twin’s thighs, momentarily brushed over the considerable length of pure muscle that was being re-awakened by his ministrations, held the heavy sacs bearing his brother’s precious seed, caressed the smooth patch of flesh beneath them, then…
Both their eyes grew wide as Elladan’s middle finger encountered the puckered opening. But realisation was followed by puzzlement, for there was no doubt that it was too tight, especially for one of their girth. A single finger might be able to… Feeling guided by some inner instinct, Elladan carefully pressed his little finger into the flesh. Despite being slightly apprehensive, Elrohir trusted his brother, and concentrated on making his muscles relax.
With Elrohir’s cooperation, inserting his little finger was not as difficult as Elladan had assumed it would be. The thought of that tight flesh around his shaft caused him to harden even further. Always mindful of his brother’s comfort, however, Elladan sought Elrohir’s eyes before attempting the much thicker middle finger. The younger twin nodded.
This proved to be considerably more challenging, and clearly caused Elrohir some discomfort as well. They might have stopped then if a clatter in the corner of the room had not caught their attention. They immediately froze, fearing that for all their care they had been discovered, but the noise had come from the corner where they had put their bags, not the door. Elrohir’s bag had fallen over. A bottle rolled out of the bag and across the floor towards them. The cause of all this followed, crawling out of the bag as if she had all the time in the world, cast them a brief, cursory look, then disappeared behind a pile of empty crates.
The twins stared after it in a mixture of disbelief and bemusement; the tortoise technically belonged to Glorfindel, and, by all accounts, should not have been able to get into the bag. Then Elrohir tapped Elladan and gestured towards the bottle. Picking it up, Elladan saw that it contained a vicious liquid. The label on it read: Hair Oil.
Elladan looked quizzically at his twin. Elrohir gave an exasperated sigh, pulled his knees towards his head slightly so that his legs were in the air and spread his thighs wide. The sight of his brother so wantonly displayed caused the older twin’s mouth to go dry. All thoughts of the stowaway fled his mind as he quickly coated one finger with the thick oil, then poured a little into his brother’s opening. Elrohir took a deep breath, trying to persuade his muscles to relax despite the unfamiliar sensations.
The lubrication made things considerably easier. Once the finger was comfortably inside, Elladan moved it around, trying to make the surrounding muscles loosen even further. It was still not wide enough for his shaft, and Elladan wondered if the pleasure in what they were about to attempt would be one-sided. For though he did not look pained, Elrohir looked far from enjoying himself. The older twin’s musings were answered when his finger suddenly touched something within the passage, and Elrohir near kicked him as he gave a loud cry.
His brother’s hand found his, and Elrohir mouthed, More.
Deciding that one finger wasn’t going to be enough, Elladan quickly added a second, and moved them apart to inside the passage. He realised that this was not so different from what he knew of bedding ellyth. In the end it was Elrohir who urged him to replace his fingers with something considerably more substantial. Near shaking with anticipation, Elladan placed the head of his arousal at the virgin opening, then looked to his brother for a final affirmation. Elrohir held his gaze, and nodded.
Elladan pushed himself in, slowly but steadily, though his body clearly wanted more. Beneath him, Elrohir shut his eyes and clutched at his shoulders. Once he was fully sheathed, Elladan stilled, employing all of his willpower to do so, and whispered with his eyes, I am sorry for the pain.
Elrohir, beads of sweat dotting his face, drew his brother’s head down and kissed him, through which he said, Make me forget it.
The older twin drew back and thrust in, slowly at first as he searched once more for the special nub. Finding it drew out hoarse cry from Elrohir, and the younger twin wrapped his legs around Elladan’s waist, monosyllabic sounds urging him to do it faster, harder, until the slapping of skin against sweat-slicked skin was like a counter-beat to the thundering of their hearts. It was a punishing pace, bordering on bruising, and was copied by Elrohir when it was his turn to deflower his brother.
They were both warriors, after all, and would never be able to use such force on an elleth. Anyone watching would have thought them consumed by hate rather than love. Perhaps, in the end, a part of it was done out of conceit of themselves. Such a love between them was forbidden, and that one night had to count for all. So they went as far as they could withstand, building the bonfire until it consumed everything, from spark to tinder to ash.
Neither would remember how many times they climaxed that night, only the first and last. The first, after their brutal love-making, caused them both to let out screams that they barely remembered in time to not allow their voices to give sound to; their souls crossed some final barrier, touching each other and fitting together as if they had been meant to be one person after all. Their pace slowed, weariness tempering their desperate hunger into loving tenderness. The last shattering occured with dawn. They screamed once more, just as silently, as they gazed into each other without blinking, drawing out a moment that had to last the rest of their lives. As they shared their last lovers’ kiss, Elrohir thought he could only taste salt- from their tears, their sweat, their spilt seed.
Eventually their sated bodes parted, but ever after there was a connection between them, as if their souls, having merged, carried a piece of the other back into their bearer. In a silence that said everything that needed to be said, they carefully wiped themselves down and donned fresh clothing from the bags. The Sun emerged over the surrounding hills on them lying in each other’s arms.
Closing their eyes, they kissed each other, chaste once more.
“Good morning, brother,” said Elladan.
“Good morning, brother,” replied Elrohir.
“Remember ada’s words?” Elladan pushed back a stray lock of hair from his twin’s face. “We are one, now. I love you, and in loving you I love myself.”
“Others will come,” said Elrohir. “But first there was us.”
There was a note in both of their empty beds. In the clear graceful hand of their sire, it said, I said that I cannot give you my blessing. But I can understand, and I pray your courage will not be paid with grief.
Remember that I am a twin, too.
They were glad, and relieved to find, if not an ally, then at least a father who would not condemn them. But in the silent corners of the heart that they would be sharing but for the division of flesh and soul, they whispered together, never again.
Translations
ada - father
elleth - female Elves
Additional Note: The use of the present tense in Elrond's message is on purpose; I have been told that close twins would often think of their deceased counterpart as if they were alive.
See the Table of Prompts
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Characters: Elladan / Elrohir
Prompt: 002 (“I am not the master of the law, and cannot set it aside.”)
Word Count: 3, 636
Rating: NC-17
Summary: The twin sons of Elrond develop unnatural desires for each other, and risk everything to learn the art of loving.
Author's Notes: This story is an experiment on a narrative style that I am unfamiliar with. I can only hope that it does not send all you readers to sleep.
It began, as with many things in those who achieve their majorities to find themselves waking into a world so distant from the safe womb of their childhood, as but a little curiosity.
Some may wonder what event had instigated it, for surely such a thing would not have been conceived by an unprompted mind on its own? Yet many would forget that they were never alone. No, they were always a pair, and as there are a number of things that could only be fully accomplished by the presence of two bodies, it is not entirely impossible that they had arrived at the curiosity simply by following the twisting pathways of their imagination.
They never discussed it, for it was a thing that could not be discussed. There are words that cannot be honourably uttered between blood siblings; and one could not be closer kin than they and still remain separate.
Yet communication can still occur without language. The flicker of an eye, the bending of one finger, the position of the hands when the arms are crossed; through these they spoke to each other in a continuous stream, having known such secret signs even before they had known light. It was through this that they knew; they were of the same mind.
However, being of Noldorin descent and with an eventful heritage to consider, they were fearful of the consequences, especially if they were discovered. They resolved to stand firm against it, and hope that more natural desires would arise in time.
Unsated, in their minds insatiable, the curiosity evolved into a longing, and the longing into a craving. Having left childhood, their bodies were awakening, as nature intended; but it seemed to them that nature had dealt, in their case, too cruel an irony. For as their unrivalled fairness could have granted them any bounty within the realm of their father and mother, their first desires were for that singular one that they could not have, the only one to match the beauty of either; and that was each other. The whole business was, without a doubt, against nature, and though it felt akin to love, were not the dark forces of the world especially dangerous because they seemed, at first, fair and harmless?
Despite their growing ardour, they would have been too frightened to act upon it if it were not for an encounter with their father.
Elrond, Master of the Last Homely House, came upon his sons as they were walking to the library. They would never know what gave them away; was it the conspicuous distance between them, the absence of touching where the twins had once been inseparable, or the slightest flush on their cheeks? His face grew grave as his keen eyes flickered from one to the other, and the fear on their faces may have been the stamp of confirmation. He quickly took them to his office, making sure that no others were about, and bolted the door firmly behind them.
“It grieves me that such a thing has arisen in my own house,” he began after a short silence, fixing both twins with an intense gaze, as if searching them for further secrets. “That no whisper of it has reached my ears is a small comfort; it seems you two are capable of discretion when it is needed.”
“Ada, nothing has transpired between us,” Elladan, the older twin, spoke up. He met his father’s eyes without fear, for it was true that neither of them had dared to act on their shared longing.
Elrond nodded. “So I see. Yet you forget that I am a healer, both of the body and mind, and I deem it is something that will not pass on its own.” He sighed heavily, and for a moment it was as if he was very far away. “I have seen its like before; perhaps I should have been expecting it, for you two were ever closer than mere brothers.” The Lord of Imladris wrung his hands. “I need not tell you that, both of you being male, such acts are against nature’s design, and for that alone you could face scorn for the remainder of your lives; that both of you are brothers- nay, twins!- pits you against all laws of blood.”
Elrohir paled, and cried, “Please, ada! Is there no hope for us? You are a healer, and our lord besides.”
“I may be your lord and father, but that will only worsen the consequences if this is discovered. I am not the master of the law, and cannot set it aside; it is deeper, and older, than the hills of this valley, than any rock or tree found on this Middle-earth. You will receive no blessing or pardon for this, either from me or from the Powers in the Far West.”
Ashamed and stricken nearly to tears, the twins bowed their heads, and would have sworn oaths to rid themselves of what seems to be a curse; but Elrond spoke again. “Yet I am healer, as you said, Elrohir. And as a healer, I must urge you to- to confront this whilst your minds are still clear.” Though his face was impassive, the words sounded as if they were being wrung from his throat. “The desire will grow worse over time, and may drive you to recklessness. It will grow into an obsession that cannot be cured, until you either forget all discretion, or turn all love between you to hate. Best if it were lanced before it becomes poison.”
Their eyes grew wide at realising what their father was suggesting. After several tense moments of silence- for what could they say?- Elrond sighed and dismissed them with a nod. But as they reached the door, they heard behind them, in a far gentler voice, “Thus far you have loved only family. The time will come when you will find your life’s love.” The twins, having frozen, now glanced over shoulders. Elrond had seated himself behind his desk. Later they would wonder if they had seen him make the faintest smile, or if it had been a trick of shadow. “But perhaps, to love another, you must first learn to love yourselves.”
Their father’s words troubled them, and for the next few weeks, neither could think about much else. It became clear that Elrond was correct, at least, on the desire growing worse. When both began reacting physically to the other’s proximity, they began to fear the outcome that their father had spoken of. It was difficult to judge which was worse: perpetual discrimination or hatred between them. Finally they decided that the issue had to be resolved. At the very least, they would stand together to face what may come after.
They chose a night when the House would not be too busy. They knew that they could not use their rooms; their parents and other members of the household were only a few doors away. So Elrohir found a small storage room near the smithy, in a separate building from the main house, that had enough space between the crates and sacks for both of them. Being of quite meticulous minds, they began retiring for bed early a week before, so as not to seem conspicuous on the night itself.
On the appointed evening, after separately taking their leave of their parents and friends in the Hall of Fire, they visited their rooms to pick up a small bag each, then departed with the aid of a tree growing outside of their adjoining balconies.
But once they were safely in the storage room, with the door carefully locked and blocked by a crate, they could only stare at each other, unable to obey their shared desire after resisting it for so long.
Their first kiss was one between brothers, chaste though heartfelt. They lingered on the brink, savouring that single point of contact, fearing to cross the forbidden threshold though the craving for the other had grown to be nearly unbearable.
As one, their lips parted, and then it was a losing battle for control, for restraint, as they devoured each other with the unheeding hunger of the starved. Knees grew weak, so they clung to one another, strong hands gripping at a shoulder, a waist, a neck, holding on as the world spun away into the night and left them in a universe of feeling. It was as if a flame had been kindled within their very flesh, and it grew the more they touched each other. Garments were shed; whether to cool or feed the hungry fire, it was difficult to tell.
When they came back to themselves, they were lying side-by-side upon the floor, as bare as the day they had emerged into the world. It was as if they had surfaced from deep water, but that first wave of desire had cleared their minds a little. Their love rose to the fore, beating back the flames. For a very long moment, they could only gazed at one another, and both thought that the other had never looked so beautiful, so perfect. Their worries about these desires being the touch of evil evaporated in the face of the love that pulsed between them. Others would scorn and condemn, but they could feel the rightness of it, deeper than blood.
Elrohir reached out to trace his brother’s ear, and Elladan mirrored him. Both knew that this had been the first image their infant eyes had registered: each other.
“It can end here,” Elladan whispered. His finger floated down to his twin’s sinuous lips. “I feel as if we have been born once more.”
Elrohir dropped his finger to Elladan’s shapely nose. “But is it gone?” he whispered back.
Deep grey pupils flecked with silver gazed at their mirror image. And it was truly a mirror- Elladan had nine flecks in the right eye and eleven flecks in the left, whilst Elrohir had nine in the left and eleven in the right.
“Nay,” Elladan finally said. “The need is still there. But do you not think this too fast?”
Elrohir frowned. “It would be, if this were a normal courtship.” He absently tapped his finger against the tip of Elladan’s nose, then moved the digit down to slide over the collarbone in a tender caress. Elladan shuddered, and closed his eyes at the sensation. “But this is not a courtship, Elladan. Or, rather, it is the end of one. We have known each other even before we were born. There are no secrets between us; there cannot be. Our lives, up to tonight, is our courtship.” His voice became quieter, a mere wisp of breath. “But it must end here.” That was another thing they had agreed on; to risk all in one night, or never.
“What is tonight, then?” asked Elladan, his soul filling his eyes.
“Nothing.” Elrohir flinched at the look of hurt that crossed his brother’s face, and kissed softly the finger that was still idly tracing his lips. “Nothing, and everything. It cannot be anything, Elladan. You must understand this,” he said gravely, meeting his twin’s gaze. “But you are my first love, and that is everything.”
“You, too, are my first love,” came the whisper that brought an end to speech.
Moving in unison, they embraced each other, and took the fire into their very souls. As would be their custom for the rest of their lives, the elder bore the leader’s burden, and led the way. This did not mean, of course, that the younger twin was passive. Both had a warrior’s pride, and Elrohir made sure that his twin earned his dominance for their first joining.
When Elladan finally managed to climb on top of his brother, Elrohir slid down to take a stiff brown nub into the heated wetness of his mouth. Revelling in the unique taste of his brother, so like and unalike to his own, the younger twin flicked his tongue at the sensitive nipple, gently biting it before traversing to the other one, which he suckled so eagerly that a round red imprint remained behind on the sun-kissed skin. Elladan pulled him up before he could travel lower, and sealed their lips together even as he used a knee to part Elrohir’s powerful long legs.
Both of them moaned at the feel of their arousals sliding over each other’s. Their identical physicality was evident even in that most intimate of places. But the movement of their bodies alone did not create sufficient friction, so Elladan reached down and curled a hand around them both. Moaning, Elrohir lowered his hand as well, and by interlacing their fingers they created a tight tunnel through which they could thrust with the synchronism of two beings grown from the same soul.
They reached completion together, each brother crying out the other’s name as warm white liquid spurted out onto their bellies. Elladan attempted to move off to allow his brother to breathe, but Elrohir threw an arm over him and kept him in place, relishing his twin’s warmth and weight.
Gradually their heartbeats calmed. Thinking that, having reached the peak of pleasure with each other, they had sated their unnatural desire, and prepared to clean up. But once the pleasant haze had dissipated, the fire returned, more ferocious and consuming than before.
They did not need to speak. Their gaze at each other said, It is still there. More, it cried, more!
Being complete strangers to the mechanics of coupling with members of the same gender, they could not fathom how to fulfil this need to be even… closer, to one another. It wanted a more intimate contact; inside, inside, as if they were male and female. But how to accomplish this, when only elleth had the necessary openings for such an act?
It was Elladan who discovered it. Feeling helpless, he thought to try substituting lust with love, and covered his twin’s neck with wet kisses. Lust and love warred, then merged; lust became a way to show love. He licked his way down Elrohir’s muscled torso, lovingly biting the smooth skin- smooth, that is, but for a light dusting of small hairs marking a path from navel to groin.
For a moment, he felt a surge of envy for his brother’s future lovers. But, he reminded himself, he would always be the first to have touched Elrohir in this manner. Jealousy retreated. Still, he wanted to memorise every inch of his brother. His hands mapped his twin’s thighs, momentarily brushed over the considerable length of pure muscle that was being re-awakened by his ministrations, held the heavy sacs bearing his brother’s precious seed, caressed the smooth patch of flesh beneath them, then…
Both their eyes grew wide as Elladan’s middle finger encountered the puckered opening. But realisation was followed by puzzlement, for there was no doubt that it was too tight, especially for one of their girth. A single finger might be able to… Feeling guided by some inner instinct, Elladan carefully pressed his little finger into the flesh. Despite being slightly apprehensive, Elrohir trusted his brother, and concentrated on making his muscles relax.
With Elrohir’s cooperation, inserting his little finger was not as difficult as Elladan had assumed it would be. The thought of that tight flesh around his shaft caused him to harden even further. Always mindful of his brother’s comfort, however, Elladan sought Elrohir’s eyes before attempting the much thicker middle finger. The younger twin nodded.
This proved to be considerably more challenging, and clearly caused Elrohir some discomfort as well. They might have stopped then if a clatter in the corner of the room had not caught their attention. They immediately froze, fearing that for all their care they had been discovered, but the noise had come from the corner where they had put their bags, not the door. Elrohir’s bag had fallen over. A bottle rolled out of the bag and across the floor towards them. The cause of all this followed, crawling out of the bag as if she had all the time in the world, cast them a brief, cursory look, then disappeared behind a pile of empty crates.
The twins stared after it in a mixture of disbelief and bemusement; the tortoise technically belonged to Glorfindel, and, by all accounts, should not have been able to get into the bag. Then Elrohir tapped Elladan and gestured towards the bottle. Picking it up, Elladan saw that it contained a vicious liquid. The label on it read: Hair Oil.
Elladan looked quizzically at his twin. Elrohir gave an exasperated sigh, pulled his knees towards his head slightly so that his legs were in the air and spread his thighs wide. The sight of his brother so wantonly displayed caused the older twin’s mouth to go dry. All thoughts of the stowaway fled his mind as he quickly coated one finger with the thick oil, then poured a little into his brother’s opening. Elrohir took a deep breath, trying to persuade his muscles to relax despite the unfamiliar sensations.
The lubrication made things considerably easier. Once the finger was comfortably inside, Elladan moved it around, trying to make the surrounding muscles loosen even further. It was still not wide enough for his shaft, and Elladan wondered if the pleasure in what they were about to attempt would be one-sided. For though he did not look pained, Elrohir looked far from enjoying himself. The older twin’s musings were answered when his finger suddenly touched something within the passage, and Elrohir near kicked him as he gave a loud cry.
His brother’s hand found his, and Elrohir mouthed, More.
Deciding that one finger wasn’t going to be enough, Elladan quickly added a second, and moved them apart to inside the passage. He realised that this was not so different from what he knew of bedding ellyth. In the end it was Elrohir who urged him to replace his fingers with something considerably more substantial. Near shaking with anticipation, Elladan placed the head of his arousal at the virgin opening, then looked to his brother for a final affirmation. Elrohir held his gaze, and nodded.
Elladan pushed himself in, slowly but steadily, though his body clearly wanted more. Beneath him, Elrohir shut his eyes and clutched at his shoulders. Once he was fully sheathed, Elladan stilled, employing all of his willpower to do so, and whispered with his eyes, I am sorry for the pain.
Elrohir, beads of sweat dotting his face, drew his brother’s head down and kissed him, through which he said, Make me forget it.
The older twin drew back and thrust in, slowly at first as he searched once more for the special nub. Finding it drew out hoarse cry from Elrohir, and the younger twin wrapped his legs around Elladan’s waist, monosyllabic sounds urging him to do it faster, harder, until the slapping of skin against sweat-slicked skin was like a counter-beat to the thundering of their hearts. It was a punishing pace, bordering on bruising, and was copied by Elrohir when it was his turn to deflower his brother.
They were both warriors, after all, and would never be able to use such force on an elleth. Anyone watching would have thought them consumed by hate rather than love. Perhaps, in the end, a part of it was done out of conceit of themselves. Such a love between them was forbidden, and that one night had to count for all. So they went as far as they could withstand, building the bonfire until it consumed everything, from spark to tinder to ash.
Neither would remember how many times they climaxed that night, only the first and last. The first, after their brutal love-making, caused them both to let out screams that they barely remembered in time to not allow their voices to give sound to; their souls crossed some final barrier, touching each other and fitting together as if they had been meant to be one person after all. Their pace slowed, weariness tempering their desperate hunger into loving tenderness. The last shattering occured with dawn. They screamed once more, just as silently, as they gazed into each other without blinking, drawing out a moment that had to last the rest of their lives. As they shared their last lovers’ kiss, Elrohir thought he could only taste salt- from their tears, their sweat, their spilt seed.
Eventually their sated bodes parted, but ever after there was a connection between them, as if their souls, having merged, carried a piece of the other back into their bearer. In a silence that said everything that needed to be said, they carefully wiped themselves down and donned fresh clothing from the bags. The Sun emerged over the surrounding hills on them lying in each other’s arms.
Closing their eyes, they kissed each other, chaste once more.
“Good morning, brother,” said Elladan.
“Good morning, brother,” replied Elrohir.
“Remember ada’s words?” Elladan pushed back a stray lock of hair from his twin’s face. “We are one, now. I love you, and in loving you I love myself.”
“Others will come,” said Elrohir. “But first there was us.”
There was a note in both of their empty beds. In the clear graceful hand of their sire, it said, I said that I cannot give you my blessing. But I can understand, and I pray your courage will not be paid with grief.
Remember that I am a twin, too.
They were glad, and relieved to find, if not an ally, then at least a father who would not condemn them. But in the silent corners of the heart that they would be sharing but for the division of flesh and soul, they whispered together, never again.
Translations
ada - father
elleth - female Elves
Additional Note: The use of the present tense in Elrond's message is on purpose; I have been told that close twins would often think of their deceased counterpart as if they were alive.
See the Table of Prompts