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Legolas blinked against the rain washing over his face and shook his head to clear his vision before once again focusing his attention on Elrohir. Or rather, on the packhorse his friend had roped to his saddle. A little further ahead, Elladan was leading them all along the rocky path to shelter.
“Are you sure we’re going the right way?” Elrohir shouted ahead to his brother for the third time.
Elladan’s reply floated back to Legolas, “I could find the cabin blindfolded.”
“If it will help, I’ll be glad to oblige,” Elrohir offered.
“Very funny, brother.”
Legolas chuckled as he listened to them. He had missed this, the easy playful banter between the brothers. It had been far too long since his last visit; it had been over two hundred years since his last trip to the valley, and even though the weather had turned for the worse, he was enjoying himself.
The day had started out pleasantly enough, cool, with a few clouds in a bright blue sky. It had been perfect weather for the twins to begin their appointed task of inspecting the border guardhouses and detailing what repairs would be needed for the coming winter months, as well as mending those that they could put to rights themselves. Legolas had insisted on joining them, not wanting to be parted from them while they performed their duties to their realm. They had set out before first light for the fortnight long outing in high spirits.
They found the first hut had only needed the shutters re-hinged, a problem quickly solved. The second required a few more repairs, though they were finished in good time with the three of them working together. Still, with the distance they had covered from the Last Homely House and the time spent on the cabins, it was late afternoon and dark clouds blotted out the sun’s rays, with thunder rumbling in the distance. They had decided to ride to the next hut, optimistically thinking the rain would hold off until nightfall.
The clouds opened when the three friends were halfway to the next guardhouse, a sudden heavy downpour that had drenched them in mere minutes and obscured even Elvish sight. There was nothing to do but go on, and so they had, one slogging turn on the trail after another.
Legolas had no idea how long they had been riding when over the near deafening rain, he heard Elladan yell, “It’s just ahead.”
A few moments later they were stabling their horses and seeing to their comfort before trudging toward the one-room guardhouse. Inside was quiet, even with the rain beating upon the log walls and the wooden shutters at a rapidly increasing rate. The thatch roof absorbed the noise coming from above, a welcome relief to Legolas’ ears. He glanced about, half expecting to find a leak or two, but the hut was thankfully dry.
“I’ll start a fire,” Elrohir stated, moving to the small hearth on the northern wall. There were small stacks of firewood and kindling from the winter before to one side of it. He placed a few pieces from the latter into the fire pit, then poked his sword up into the chimney, looking for any unwelcome intruders, before continuing with his task. Soon he had a fire kindled and began stacking a few of the smaller logs to catch.
Meanwhile Legolas set his saddlebag and weapons aside and hurried to help Elladan, who was busily shaking out blankets he had removed from a storage bin. Legolas wrinkled his nose as the smell of must filled his nostrils and wished they had time to air the coverings, as they had done at the first two cabins. Elladan, noticing his friend’s expression, produced a packet of sweet-smelling herbs from his pack to place between the layers of cloth as they spread them upon the floor in front of the small, but bright, fire.
Legolas breathed a little more easily as the stale odor began to dissipate and smiled in gratitude at Elladan. “Much better, thank you.”
Elladan paused in removing his shirt and gallantly dipped his head. “Happy to be of service.”
The prince laughed at the gesture before following suit and peeling off his own clothing, as he had done countless times in their presence. Now, however, he felt a murmur of awkwardness, the same one that had caught him unawares on more than one occasion throughout this visit whenever one or both of the twins was near him. It was not an unpleasant sensation; in fact it was quite the opposite, but it was enough to have him considering leaving his leggings and loin cloth in place. Common sense over-ruled that thought, and he shrugged the feeling aside, putting it down to the lengthy time between his last sojourn in the valley and this one. He continued undressing and hung his garments on a peg next to where the twins had hung theirs before joining them on the blankets. After a moment he began un-plaiting his braids and finger combing through the rain-tangled hair.
“Do you think the storm will last much longer?” he asked at length.
“I hope not,” Elrohir replied. “We have several more cabins to see to and if any of those have roofs needing repairs they’ll be in even worse shape.”
“Can’t be helped if they are,” Elladan reminded him. He rose gracefully to his feet. “At any rate, I think some food and drink are in order.”
Two stomachs growled in agreement.
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Legolas took one last bite of his apple and threw the core into the fire. The strange, unsettled feeling had returned, and with it the need to occupy his hands. Standing, he moved to inspect his clothing, but it was still wet, so he rearranged it in hopes that doing so would make it dry more quickly. That done, he glanced at the twins; they were both lounging comfortably, still nude as he was. He averted his eyes when Elrohir looked up at him, though he could not have explained why if asked, and walked around the heap of blankets to where his weapons rested against a wall where he began to methodically inspect his arrows. He wished that he could put a name to the sensations that caused his belly to flutter. If he did not know better he would have put it down to shyness, or perhaps even desire, but either choice made no sense to him. He had known the brothers far too long for the former, and had never harbored any attraction toward them that would point to the latter.
Movement across the room caught his eye and he glanced over to see Elladan rapidly moving pencil over paper in the leather-bound book he had used earlier in the day. Legolas watched for a moment, assuming that the older twin was making note of what repairs needed to be completed once the rain halted. He found himself fascinated by the play of muscle in Elladan’s unclothed shoulder and arm, but quickly jerked his gaze away when he realized that he was staring. Legolas bent his head to his own task with a frown.
“No, that’s not quite right,” Elrohir said.
Legolas raised his head to see Elrohir pointing at the page, shaking his own head slowly. “You have the lines all wrong. The chin and his ears . . .”
“This is my drawing,” Elladan huffed, batting Elrohir’s hand away. “You go do your own if you don’t like it.”
“Don’t have my supplies with me. Besides, I never said I didn’t like it, just that you had the angles off.”
“What is it? What are you drawing?” Legolas asked, replacing his arrows in their quiver and looking toward the brothers again.
“You,” Elrohir announced, dodging Elladan’s foot with a laugh as his twin tried to kick him.
Both intrigued and flustered, Legolas moved to Elladan. “May I see?”
Elladan slammed the book closed and flipped the latch, securing it. “It’s not finished,” he murmured, flushing slightly.
Legolas reached for it. “Please. I want to see.”
“No,” Elladan refused, passing the book to Elrohir.
Legolas dove for it, but Elrohir was faster. He grabbed the sketchbook and moved it to his other side. Legolas pounced, but Elrohir passed the book behind his back to Elladan with a laugh. Legolas reached for the book, but before he could grasp it Elladan tossed it smoothly to his brother, who hid it behind his back.
“Keep your drawing to yourself then; I give up,” Legolas said, shrugging. He sat still, staring straight ahead into the flames.
Elrohir, satisfied that Legolas was no longer interested, threw the book to Elladan. Legolas turned and caught it just as it passed over his head. With a shout of dismay, Elrohir leapt, grabbing at Legolas’ hand, while Elladan tackled him to the floor, one arm around the prince’s bare waist.
“Do you yield?” Elladan asked, smirking slightly.
“Hardly.”
With a twist of his arm and a roll of his lower body Legolas was nearly free. But then Elladan shifted and threw a muscular leg over Legolas’ left thigh. Elrohir, meanwhile, having gained a firmer grip on Legolas’ arm, slid his right hand down along it until he reached his armpit before skimming lower and back up again. Legolas flinched at the light tickles, biting his lip rather than give in. Instead he renewed his struggles, bucking his torso and lifting his shoulders.
Only it was no longer a game to take a peek at a picture, but a need to flee from the touch of his friends’ bare skin against his own, from the tantalizing scents that clung to them. They smelled of horse and leather, of herbs and trees, all aromas more appealing to him than they had ever been. He was breathing shallowly now, his skin on fire, and his blood was already rushing to parts of his body it most definitely should not while in his friends’ presence. Frantically, he willed himself to regain control of his reactions, hoping against hope that neither Elladan nor Elrohir noticed.
“Stop, stop. Let me up.” In spite of his panic, he could not help laughing as Elrohir continued to tickle him.
“Do you yield?” Elladan asked again, his voice harsh.
“Aye, yes, I yield. Now let me up,” Legolas begged again, still trying to get away.
They did not budge, however, though their holds loosened slightly. Instead they moved a little closer to him, making him aware of the state of their own bodies. Shocked, he glanced between the brothers as their arousals nudged him from either side, his eyes widening and his heartbeat increasing as their heavy-lidded gazes met his. He swallowed thickly, relief and excitement running through him as he realized he was not alone in his sudden, burning need.
Afterwards, if anyone had asked, he could not have said who had initiated matters. One minute he was struggling to escape the twins and the next he was hungrily kissing Elladan. In the meantime, Elrohir bent his head to trail his lips along the prince’s neck before moving to sweep his tongue along the delicate whorls of his ear. Legolas gasped and caught the older twin’s head with his free hand, his fingers tangling in the long dark hair. He muttered his disapproval when Elladan raised his head, his gray eyes glittering with need.
Before he could say anything, gentle but insistent fingers captured his chin and he turned his head to face Elrohir. Their lips met softly at first, but soon they were caught up in the same passionate need that he had just shared with Elladan. He moaned against Elrohir’s mouth as the elf knight’s tongue dueled with his own. Elladan, meanwhile, dipped his head to suckle at the juncture of Legolas’ throat and shoulder.
Legolas panted harshly when both of the brothers ceased their sensual onslaught only to stare down at him, their breaths as ragged as his. For a moment he wondered wildly why they were not kissing him, touching him. Perhaps he had misread their intent. He lifted his hands, cupping a strong lean jaw in each. “Don’t stop,” he whispered. “For Valar’s sake, don’t stop.”
“Do you truly want this, Legolas?” Elladan asked.
From his other side Elrohir spoke. “Do you wish to lie with both of us?”
“Do you have any doubt?”
The twins glanced down to note the proof of Legolas’ desire resting proudly against his abdomen. They each slipped a hand lower, sure strokes making him harden even more. “As long as you do not have any,” Elladan replied.
“Elladan, shut up and kiss me,” Legolas ordered.
He did not wait for the warrior to heed him, but pulled him close, capturing the firmly-molded lips with his own. Legolas sighed in pleasure when Elladan’s lips parted, granting his tongue access. He wasted no time in delving inside to taste. A thrill of triumph shot through him when he felt Elladan tremble, but it was quickly overpowered by his own body shuddering needfully when Elrohir closed his mouth over the tip of his ear.
With a growl he turned his attention to the younger twin. Elrohir gasped when Legolas caught his mouth, giving it the same exploration he had treated Elladan’s to, but this time he snaked a hand between them to firmly grasp the elf knight’s impressive cock.
He felt Elladan’s warmth leave his back and wondered what he was doing when he heard the older twin rifling through his pack, muttering to himself. All too soon, however, he lost interest in Elladan’s activities as Elrohir’s lips and tongue once again burned along his throat, sending jolts of sensation racing through his body, making coherent thought impossible. He murmured the elf knight’s name and urged him lower. The younger twin had just rolled him over onto his back when he heard Elladan’s cry of, “Aha, at last.”
Elladan crawled back over the blankets toward them. “Healing salve,” he announced.
Neither paid any heed to him. Elrohir had worked his way down Legolas’ body and was now busily suckling his turgid length, while the prince, eyes closed and lips parted, was fisting his dark hair. Legolas gasped as another mouth and tongue joined Elrohir’s in pleasuring him, and he raised himself up on his elbows to watch as Elrohir shifted to make room for his brother.
“Ah, gods,” he panted.
The sight of the twins, one on either side of his groin, their mouths and tongues sliding up and down along his cock was almost too much. And the pleasure . . . Valar! The suction of their lips, their teasing licks over the sensitive head, the strokes of their firm hands, had him near delirious with sensation. One of them–he could not have told them apart now if he had to–lowered his head and began to gently lap at the tender sacs, causing Legolas to nearly spill then and there. He cursed softly when the twins abruptly ceased their delicious torment and opened his eyes to glare at them.
“Patience,” Elladan murmured. “We would not leave you unfulfilled.”
He moved to lie on his side next to Legolas while Elrohir positioned himself between the prince’s legs. Legolas watched hungrily as Elrohir opened the jar of salve and coated himself, then added more of the unguent to his fingers. The archer raised and spread his legs in shameless invitation, hissing through his teeth when Elrohir slowly teased his entrance before slipping a slick digit inside. Elladan chose that moment to lean close and capture Legolas’ mouth, immediately thrusting his tongue inside. Legolas moaned at the simultaneous invasions, certain that he would float away, it felt so good, though Elrohir had barely begun his claiming of him, had he not been clinging to Elladan. The feeling multiplied tenfold when Elrohir added a second finger and caressed the sensitive bundle of nerves within his body while Elladan ran his hand lower to stroke Legolas’ aching shaft.
“Now. Take me now,” Legolas entreated. “I am ready enough.”
“No, not yet,” Elrohir answered, shaking his head. He drew his hand back, then eased in another finger. “Patience.”
“Patience? I–.” Legolas’ threat was effectively halted by another kiss from Elladan. When he could speak again, he urged Elrohir again. “Please.”
This time Elrohir did not refuse him. He moved closer, gripped one of Legolas’ thighs with one hand while Elladan, at his signal, held the other. Legolas had never felt so vulnerable in his life as he looked from one passion-glazed face to the other, but far from frightening him, it only stirred his lust more as he waited for Elrohir to breach him. Finally, finally, the younger twin began to ease inside, pressing forward slowly but surely, until he was fully sheathed.
“Ungh!” Legolas gasped. It had been a long time since he had allowed himself to be taken; he had forgotten the sensation of being impaled, the burn. He drew a deep, shaky breath now and willed himself to calm.
Elladan began caressing his belly with one hand while his mouth and tongue teased along the curve of Legolas’ ear. Legolas moaned as the older twin’s touches gradually relaxed him. It was the signal Elrohir had been waiting for. He began a series of slow, shallow thrusts, gradually increasing the pace and depth when Legolas wrapped his legs around him.
“More,” Legolas panted, lowering his feet to the floor to brace himself and move in counterpoint. He reached down to touch himself but Elladan’s hand was already there before him. His head fell back and he clutched helplessly at the blankets beneath him. Ecstacy rippled through him as Elrohir stroked again and again over that blinding pleasure spot while Elladan fisted him so skillfully, his thumb gliding over the head of Legolas’ shaft. He was so close . . .
A firm grip on the base of his cock jolted him, and he leveled a scowl at Elladan, hardly aware that Elrohir’s thrusts had become more erratic, more hurried. “No, don’t–.”
A loud, guttural groan made him jerk his eyes to Elrohir. The elf knight’s eyes were closed, his face taut. He snapped his hips once, twice more, jarring Legolas’ body with their force. A heartbeat later his passage was bathed with hot seed, and Legolas shivered as Elrohir’s features contorted in bliss. Gods, but he was beautiful, Legolas thought. It had been worth forestalling his own release to see and feel the younger twin come undone. Elrohir slumped over him, breathing heavily, just as Elladan moved from his position to kneel at Legolas feet. Legolas drew Elrohir down further for a kiss, their tongues dueling wildly, until he reluctantly withdrew himself from Legolas and eased his body to the side.
Legolas’ gaze now moved to Elladan, who was slowly fisting an erection that seemed even larger than his brother’s. Imagining that sword piercing him made Legolas suddenly grateful that Elrohir had taken him first, for he did not think he could have endured it. Now, however, he was more than ready for the older twin. He raised his legs again but Elladan shook his head.
“No, on your hands and knees.”
Legolas complied and waited, panting softly, hoping that Elladan would take him quickly. His body ached for release. He turned his head to beg him, but Elladan was already lining himself up, one hand braced on Legolas’ hip. With one sure stroke, Elladan thrust inside. He did not wait for Legolas to adjust, as Elrohir had; stretched as he was and soaked with Elrohir’s release, there was no need. Nor did Legolas want him to wait. He pushed back almost frantically as Elladan drove into him with powerful thrusts, hitting his pleasure center again and again, their moans and grunts filling the cabin. His body damp with sweat, his arms aching with the strain of holding himself upright, Legolas sighed in relief when Elladan slowed his movements and sat back on his heels, pulling the archer onto his lap.
“Ungh, gods, yes!” Legolas gasped, the change in angle sending even more pleasure rushing through his body. He began to tense as the pressure inside built to an unbearable level and the need for release over-rode all his other senses.
“Are you close?” Elladan murmured.
Legolas moaned in frustration, thinking he would be denied fulfillment yet again. In a passion-roughened voice he panted back, “I swear I’ll kill you if you don’t let me . . . Ah, Valar!”
Elrohir had moved to their sides and leant down to lap at the head of Legolas’ cock while his hand worked skillfully up and down on the shaft. Legolas looked down to watch the younger twin’s dark head bobbing in tandem with his brother’s movements. His world narrowed to that vision, to the warm heat encasing him, to the hard flesh cleaving him. He let his head fall back onto Elladan’s shoulder and the older twin pushed his hair aside, his mouth closing on the tip of Legolas’ ear. Legolas came with a hoarse cry to the heavens, shuddering violently as he spurted down Elrohir’s eager throat. Elladan thrust up into him hard, filling him with hot liquid, making him shake even more.
“So good. So good,” Legolas whispered, his throat raw.
“It was our pleasure to . . . pleasure you,” Elrohir replied with a faint grin, as he raised himself to face Legolas, licking his lips and smiling even more when Legolas shivered again. He leant forward to kiss him, helping him move off Elladan’s lap in the process. Elladan embraced him from behind.
“Indeed, it was,” Elladan answered, his mouth close to Legolas’ ear.
Slowly they disentangled themselves and fell upon the blankets, too exhausted to bathe. The twins were soon asleep, but Legolas lay for a long time afterwards staring up at the rafters of the cabin. Thoughts of what had just happened whirled through his mind. It had been pleasurable beyond anything he had ever experienced, but would this be the only time he lay with Elladan and Elrohir? Would it be enough, or did he want more? Did they want more? He could not begin to guess.
He turned his head first to one side and then the other to gaze at twins. Each lay facing him with an arm curved possessively over his body. They looked impossibly innocent in sleep, and a soft smile grew on his face as he looked up once more at the ceiling.
He decided not to worry about the future. Not yet.
The End