|Rating:||NC-17 (het, implied slash)|
|Summary:||There’s an end to everything, even the amorous adventures of Eowyn, Elladan and Elrohir. (This concludes the drabble series for Screw Yule, but should work as a stand-alone as well. Challenge: Poet? You know it! Write a story and incorporate a limerick into it.)|
|Author's notes:|| Note 1: Titles! Lots of them! (For an added challenge, I used all the titles from the list in the story text)
Note 2: Liberty taken with Sindarin stress patterns in one of the locations mentioned. Spot that word and win a cookie :-)
Note 3: Yeah, I know the fortress at Helm’s Deep isn’t called that, it’s the Hornburg. I remembered too late and it seemed a shame to scrap a fresh limerick because of a detail like that ;-)
Note 4: Here’s my inspiration for Elladan and Elrohir (the pics are tiny – click on them to behold the twins in all their yumminess)
Extra special final note: Big thank you hugs to Erfan for helping me make this a better story, not only language-wise. Any remaining oddities are mine. Yes, my precious!
|Feedback:||Please leave a note in the guestbook or write to to firstname.lastname@example.org|
Our twin warriors from Rivendell,
who in matters of flesh do excel,
at some point have to go
back to fighting their foe
and thus part from their dear Rohan belle.
Melancholy struck her mid-motion as she was pouring ale into the silver cup that Elrohir had insisted on calling a zegedine since the first time she offered it to him, a fortnight ago. She hurriedly put down both jug and cup, steadying herself against the wall. It was all she could do not to quiver like a reed. This was the last time she would sit with them at the table where Elladan had shown her why one should only fondle his ears in earnest pursuit of pleasure, and not as an innocent gesture of affection.
It seemed so long ago since the handsome, dark elf had swaggered into the Golden Hall and conquered her with his humour, his wit and the fiery gleam in his gaze which she found enticing at the same time as it challenged her. She sensed from the beginning that he was not one to be played with. Yet even then she had known that she wanted to do just that, toy with him, to see if she dared challenge him, and what his reaction would be.
‘All that glitters...’ the other women had whispered as they exchanged glances full of meaning, but Elladan had proved to be precisely the knight in shining armour that she first took him for. And when his brother appeared beside him, she had felt blinded by a vision for a moment, until she understood that they were twins, the second no more an illusion of truth than the first had been.
When they told her that they would be leaving, she had already made the decision to count herself lucky that she had had both of them in her bed and her life, if for a little while, rather than waste away with a shattered heart, yearning for what was not meant to be. What was it the old crone by the gate used to say? Everything is blessed? That was it, and she counted herself blessed. Now was the time to act accordingly. Determined to enjoy their last night to the fullest, she took Elrohir’s cup and Elladan’s tankard and turned towards where the twins were sitting. The sight of them talking with each other, and now and then looking at her with big, honest grins, made her feel like dancing. She covered the distance between them with joyful little leaps worthy of a filly in spring.
“Don’t spill the ale,” said Elrohir merrily and kissed her as he took the drinking vessels. Elladan pulled her across his lap, and Elrohir wasted no time sitting down close beside them.
“We brought you something,” said Elladan.
“To remember us by when the night is cold,” added Elrohir. “And to remind you that whatever is in your future it is not to become an old maid.” He winked and rested his hand on her thigh.
“No, it’s rather too late for that, isn’t it?” She chuckled and took his hand between hers, whereupon Elladan laid his palm on the vacated space. A playful swat did not chase it away, but left Elrohir’s hand free to join his brother’s, and when there were suddenly four hands on her, in positions of various degrees of unseemliness, she gave up and laughed. “I’m happy, and you should be, too, that my mother’s brother is a more open-minded man than most fathers.“ A small book bound in wine-red leather lying on the pale wood of the table caught her eye.
“Open it,” said Elladan and took a swig at his beer. She declined his offer to take a sip.
Instead, she rocked sideways on his thighs to reach the slim volume. She turned it in her hands, admiring it briefly, before opening it – books were rare in Edoras. The writing was elegant and flowed across the pages, the letters hooked up with one another as if dancing. Beautiful and very Elvish, it was entirely different from the scrolls she had studied with Gríma. She said so.
“We’ve made it ourselves, for you,” beamed Elrohir. “The verses aren’t all ours, but we’ve compiled them, and some are new. Like this one.” He opened the book to a page with a sketch of a fortress. The words next to it made her cheeks heat, but Elladan read it in a loud voice:
“A shield-maiden who fucked in Helm's Deep,
told her lover ‘I’m falling asleep!
Your kisses are callow,
your thrusts are too shallow,
Please mimic the name of this keep!’"
During the reading, she made vain attempts at covering his mouth, but then Elrohir would read instead, and at the end they were all three laughing. She picked the next verse, attracted by the picture of a mountain in moonshine that adorned the page opposite. Elrohir whispered the words into her ear, pausing after each line:
“A ranger in Henneth Annún
was always firing too soon
so he tied up some string
around his male thing
and now his strength’s a platoon’s!”
“Where’s Henneth Annún,” she asked once she’d stopped giggling.
“In Ithilien,” both replied in chorus. “The land is more beautiful than in the picture,” added Elrohir, “but overrun by our enemies.” His voice took on a steely tone that made her shudder.
“And this ranger is..?”
“A friend of ours,” said Elladan. “It’s quite possible that you’ll like him, too.” He squeezed her thigh.
“You mean, you think we may be... compatible?”
“In more ways than one,” said Elrohir, again the good-natured young man she knew.
“Do you honestly mean you are that well acquainted with him? That you know his preferences in bed from first-hand experience? ” It was intended as a joke, but the twins exchanged meaningful glances. “No, wait. I prefer not to know.”
“Then we won’t tell.” He kissed her. “Now, look at this!”
She placed her finger where his had been and began to spell out the verse. There were a couple of Elvish words. “Amon... Din. Did I say it right?”
“Dín. It means ‘silence’. It’s a hill, never mind where. Read on.”
“What is an el-leth?”
“A female elf,” Elladan stated.
“Not as pretty as you,” Elrohir added. “Go on, it’s your turn to read.”
“A couple atop Amon Dín
proved two elves with an elleth between,
and the love that they shared
while thus threesomely paired
was the ultimate in the obscene.”
“Two elves,” she said when she had finished. “That means you, doesn’t it? Now I feel jealous.”
“Good.” Elladan was grinning from ear to ear and she wanted to smack him.
“Don’t be jealous,” said Elrohir. “That was a long time ago. We hoped that it would rather be inspiring.” His hand in her lap began to move up and down her thigh, and then towards her centre, where Elladan already rested his fingers.
“I think I am beginning to feel inspired,” she said. Elladan bucked a couple of times, his easy strength making light work of her weight in his lap, and such exaggeration made her giggle again. “I only said ‘beginning’,” she told him. “But – could we retire to my room? I don’t want anybody else to even look at you tonight. If this is our last dance, then I would wish you to be mine alone.”
“Fair and plain. Whatever you say, sweet Eowyn.” Elrohir rose from the bench, bowed in mock submission and offered her his arm. She took it with a haughty nod and did likewise with Elladan on her other side. She imagined them being quite a sight as they slowly glided across the hall with dignified expressions.
That all changed as soon as they had passed through the open doors leading to the sleeping quarters. Suddenly she was lifted into the air by both her lovers and delivered to the seclusion of her own bedroom in the blink of an eye. While Elladan occupied himself with the candles, she fondled Elrohir’s ears, noticing with satisfaction how his eyelids fluttered, and when he opened his mouth, she boldly plundered it with her tongue.
Then Elladan claimed her mouth and as she clung to him, Elrohir put her down. Still kissing, she felt Elrohir cup her breasts from behind and then begin to run his thumbs cunningly over her stiff nipples. He laughed at first when she pressed against him for more, but then continued in a way that felt even more delicious. She relaxed into his arms, leaning her head back against his chest as Elladan sank to his knees in front of her. His head dived under the skirt of her dress, but the material caught on his shoulders and she helped him out by reaching for the hem and lifting it to her waist.
If she had not already been smitten, Elladan’s rapture at the sight of her bared to his hands and mouth would have made her fall in love with him. She fondly tousled his locks with her free hand, now and then touching his ears as if by coincidence. His low growling made her smile, and then shiver, as his tongue left a moist trail on her inner thigh on its painstakingly slow journey from her knee up. She forced herself not to push his head closer, grateful when Elrohir clasped her hand.
Elladan’s agile fingertips glided over her moist folds, as if he was intent on exploring everything, except for the little bud in the centre. A chaste kiss was all he would place there. She writhed on his fingers as he penetrated her, first slowly and then in a rhythm matching hers. When he finally added his mouth in earnest, she came nearly instantly.
“Our sweet Eowyn,” Elrohir said and turned her in his arms, away from his grinning brother. “I am sorely tempted to ask you to honour me with a solo performance.” He kissed her. “Blushing makes you even prettier, but don’t worry, it is a duet that I crave. Would you be willing?”
“As long as it means that I can do something with you. On the bed,” she added. “I don’t think I can stand on my legs much longer.” She gave Elladan an appreciative glance. “And – aren’t we wearing too many clothes?”
“Your thinking is much to our liking,” said Elladan and pulled his tunic over his head while Elrohir did likewise. “Allow us to assist you.”
“No,” she stated with a grin that widened at the twins’ bewilderment. “I mean, no, not both of you. Elrohir, please, would you lie on the bed? And keep your leggings on, for a little while longer. For me?”
“Whatever you wish, sweet Eowyn.” His overly gallant bow and the way he walked off with the proud gait of a stallion made her giggle.
Elladan was quick to take advantage of the situation to get her out of her dress and shift, in a playful manner that did nothing to change her state of mind. She was still chuckling while he finished his own undressing. It took a generous measure of kisses to make her reasonably sober again.
“Why haven’t you done that before?” she whispered as she pressed her naked body against Elladan’s. “Not the kisses, but what you did earlier. That felt like riding a whole herd of mearas.”
“Always happy to pleasure you, my dear.” His hands cupping her backside and ever so slightly parting her cheeks reminded her in a very inspirational way of what the last verse they read together had suggested.
“I will always be glad to do the same for you,” she told him. “But, first I want to give something to Elrohir. If you promise to be nice and not interfere, I will let you be the one to... do what the top elf in that trio on the hill did.” Despite her curiosity to try it, she discovered that she was far from ready to speak about it openly.
His delighted grin told her he understood perfectly well what she meant, as did his finger finding its way between her cheeks and suddenly resting on her anus.
“I said later.”
Immediately, he moved his hand to less virgin territory.
“Eowyn, we don’t need to do it. If you are the least unsure about wanting to try it, then we should not.”
“I am not afraid!”
“I know. You, fair Eowyn, fear very little.” He nipped her earlobe; she did not even stir. “You can decide later. I promise to wait here until you call for me.” He pulled out a chair, turned it so that it faced the bed and made himself comfortable. His expression was that of someone who was just going to watch his prize horses compete. “Now, go. I think Elrohir is growing impatient.”
One glance at the elf on the bed confirmed that he was right.
Elrohir, sprawled on her bed with his dark hair spilling over her pillow and naked except for his leggings, was possibly the most beautiful sight she had ever seen, and by far the most alluring. Within moments, she had straddled his thighs and leaned forward to kiss him. As she withdrew, she let her hair brush over his chest, raising fascinating little goose-bumps in its wake. The bulge in his leggings was impressive, even through the material. Now why had she asked him to keep them on?
“I don’t think we need these anymore,” she said, and he was out of them faster than she thought possible. Her impatience made her limit her attention with hand and lips to some fondling and a few failed attempts to take more than the tip of his length into her mouth, but he seemed appreciative enough when she leaned forward again, this time gliding slowly, her small breasts rubbing against his chest. When she sat back, he was inside of her.
“Elrohir,” she said as she began to move, aided by his hands around her waist and his bucking hips. “Elrohir - Elrohir - Elrohir!”
Looking at him like this, while feeling him inside, filled her with light-hearted happiness and an impulse to laugh at how wonderful life was.
“Yes, Eowyn? Is my lady wanting anything?” he replied, mock serious, without missing a beat. He grinned and lifted an eyebrow, a hilarious gesture under the circumstances. She giggled and tried to smack him, but his hand caught hers. With the other, he began to tease her nipples. “A little of this, perhaps?” he continued the charade, “or perhaps she wishes to be touched here?” His fingertips on her core made her involuntarily press herself repeatedly against his hand.
“Mm,” was all she cared to answer for now, it was too good to be interrupted by words. When she felt she was near, she called out: “Elladan!”
Then he was there, behind her, kissing her neck and shoulders and fondling her breasts, and then gently pushing her down to rest against Elrohir, who stilled himself and wrapped his arms around her. He looked into her eyes and smiled, which encouraged her to do the same. “Our brave Eowyn,” he whispered. She heard Elladan fumble with something, vaguely recognised the scent of an oil he had used on her skin when they bathed together the previous night, and then she felt him touch her. There.
“Now is the moment to decide, Eowyn.” He nudged at her a little harder. “Do you want it?”
“Yes,” she said, louder than she had intended, enough to make herself heard above her beating heart. She held her breath.
“Look at me,” said Elrohir gently, making her realise that she had shut her eyes. “You don’t have to do this. You can just trust imagination.”
“No.” She turned her head and nodded to Elladan to go on, and then put her face near Elrohir’s as Elladan moved again. “I want to know what it feels like, to ...uh have... uh... you ...ah ...both.”
“And how does it feel?” asked Elladan in a strange, strained voice.
Tight. Impossible, no, wait. Possible, definitely possible. “Complete,” she said. “I feel very complete. Don’t move just yet.” She tried to relax. A gentle push from Elrohir beneath her had a double effect. “Now,” she whispered. “Now, Elladan. Now, now, now!”
Her voice increased in loudness and neediness as Elrohir renewed his assault from beneath. His fingers found their earlier target, their intimate caresses taking the edge off the initial discomfort of the double sensations. Elladan came fast and soon took the others with him. The last thing Eowyn remembered from that night was him holding her against his chest and whispering one single word. “Incredible.”
“It’s rather windy today,” remarked Elladan as the three of them stepped outside, Eowyn in the middle, holding both of their elbows.
“Perhaps we should rather say our farewells inside,” suggested Elrohir with a concerned glance at her.
“Never mind the weather,” she declared. “I am a shield-maiden of Rohan, and don’t say what you were going to. Nowadays one doesn’t have to be a virgin, although there are few who are married.”
Elladan smiled. “Promise us you will look for the ranger. He is connected to you, somehow.”
“I will.” She grinned. “If he’s half as good as either of you...”
“No, seriously,” said Elrohir. “Do. We are the sons of Elrond and Celebrían, after all, and at least in some small part have the foresight of our heritage.”
“I will practice with my sword, too. And the shield, like you told me, even if it looks unlikely now that I will ever need them, locked away as I am. You don’t need to remind me about who your mother’s mother is.” She gave a shudder. There were limits to her xenophilia and thirst for knowledge.
“Be careful when you cross the brook,” she added quickly, glad for an excuse to change the topic. “There are sharp stones under the water that are hard to see... for a human at least. Trust your horses to pick their way over the ford.”
“We will, Eowyn of Rohan.” They both nodded and she could no longer hold back the impulse to embrace them hard. Letting go, she brushed her fingers against Elladan’s ear.
“No, don’t! You will recall what happened last time.”
“I do, it was a tricky situation, and a wonderfully scandalous one.” She smiled. “Gríma made me scrub that table for half an hour, and yet I would do it again a hundred times, if...” If what? If that would make him, them, stay a few minutes longer? Or forever?
Elladan shot her an enigmatic glance, but it was Elrohir who spoke. “My brother would go back inside in an instant and stay if he thought it would give you a happier life, Eowyn. I would do the same, gladly. You are making it hard for both of us to ride, in several ways. As things are...”
The force of his sudden kiss caught her unawares, and Elladan pressing himself, and the evidence of his emotions, against her back reminded her too much of what they had recently shared for the last time.
“Go,” she whispered when Elrohir broke the kiss. Elladan’s lips gently nibbling her ear only made things worse, and she pushed him away, with effort. “Go,” she repeated. “Just go, I said!” she shouted when they made no move to leave.
Only when she shooed them away like curious colts did they finally mount their steeds. “Go!” She waved, and they waved back, Elladan grinning and Elrohir with a serious expression in his grey eyes, before turning their backs on her.
“I love you,” she added quietly. “Both of you. To the very root of my soul.”
She remained on top of the stairs and watched them ride into the green sea of rich grass until they disappeared. The wind blew in her hair and annoyingly brought tears to her eyes. Shield maidens did not weep; farewells were not the misfortunate gift of adverse fate, but a regular thread in the weft of life. Who would know that better than she – the daughter of a warrior gone to join his sires in the prime of life, and the sister of one who would soon be there, if he did not mend his overly daring ways? This parting was neither her first, nor her last.
She sighed and wiped another tear from her eye, then looked at the book in her other hand. Tonight she would read it again, to laugh and hopefully to dream about the ranger her twin lovers had seen in her future. Before that, she would hone her skills with the sword until her arm hurt more than her heart and she would be ready to accept the truth calmly.
They were gone.
Posted: February 2, 2009
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"Long live Thranduil, great Elf-king of Greenwood!"