Title: Married to an Elf

Author: Inwë Sáralondë (manonb63@yahoo.com)

Type: FPS

Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel

Rating: PG

Warnings: None

Beta: Aglarien

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.

Feedback: Yes please…

Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask

Part 1:

Word count: 573

Summary/Notes: Erestor is flustered. The prompts used were 22 Jul 2006 - 'horizon'; 23 Oct 2006 - 'twilight' and 'starlight'; 26 Oct 2006 - 'jewel'; 25 Aug 2007 - 'son'

************************

"Where is he?!"

"Where is whom?" Elrond asked mildly. Erestor stood before him, flustered, and the elf-lord stifled a grin.

"You know very well who I mean. That…that…that…"

"Glorfindel is in the armoury doing inventory, I believe," Elrond interrupted, amused to see his normally unflappable advisor decidedly frazzled.

"What in all of Mordor is he doing there?" Erestor asked, frustrated.

Elrond quirked an eyebrow. "Did you not hear what I said?"

"Of course I did! You said he was in the armoury, doing inventory."

"Which, I believe," Elrond said dryly, "answers your question as to what he is doing."

Erestor paused, taking in what Elrond was saying. "Doing inventory," he finally said, a frown of displeasure on his face. "Except he is supposed to be having measurements taken for the outfit he is to wear at the ceremony."

Elrond looked at his advisor. "Actually, he was there this morning."

"He was?"

The elf-lord nodded. "I suspect, mellonen, that it should be you having your measurements taken."

Erestor swallowed. "Oh." His face paled. "I think I am late," he whispered.

"I think you are," Elrond responded gravely. "I suggest you make your way there quickly."

"Yes…yes, of course." Erestor turned and rushed inside, leaving the elf-lord shaking his head ruefully.

"Is something wrong?"

Elrond turned and smiled at Legolas. "No; merely amused at the sight of my advisor all a-flutter."

"A rare sight, I take it?"

"A rare sight indeed," Elrond concurred. "But, in a way, reassuring. It means that he has moved even further away from that which has plagued him for so long."

"When is the ceremony to take place?"

"Five days' hence, at twilight."

"An unusual time to have it," Legolas commented.

"It is what both Erestor and Glorfindel wanted. They especially wanted to have the party under 'starlight and moonlight', to quote their very words."

His gaze fixed on some point in the horizon, Legolas murmured, "It will be very romantic, and not just for them."

"Oh?" Elrond gave Legolas a knowing grin, and the prince flushed. "Did you have something in mind with a certain minstrel, ernilen?"

"Do you mind me courting him?" Legolas asked, a glimmer of worry in his eyes.

Elrond smiled reassuringly. "If anything, I am pleased. Lindir has a loving, generous spirit, and he deserves to be cherished. I can not think of a better elf who will do that."

The smile Legolas gave the elf-lord was blinding. "Hannon le, Lord Elrond. I would never have thought I could lose my heart so quickly, but Lindir is such a rare jewel that I feel privileged to love him, and that he loves me in return."

"Being in love is a wonderful feeling, Legolas. I know it all too well. Now, go. I sense you wish to make your own preparations." Elrond almost laughed as Legolas ran off. He never expected the son of Thranduil to exhibit such behaviour, often being seen as having an air of aloofness that was so reminiscent of his father's.

"Strange, but Legolas' words echo my thoughts as to what I think of Erestor." Elrond turned at the sound of Glorfindel's voice. "Does being in love always make one feel this way?"

Thinking back to the time when he first met and courted Celebrían, Elrond smiled. "You may take my word for it, mellonen. Love turns us into gibbering fools, the only time when we are happy to be seen as such."

************************

Elvish translations: ernilen - my prince

hannon le - thank you

mellonen - my friend

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Title: Married to an Elf Part 2/25

Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)

Type: FPS

Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel

Rating: PG

Warnings: None

Beta: Aglarien

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.

Feedback: Yes please…

Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask

Word count: 379

Summary/Notes: Erestor tries to think of the right words. The prompts used were 14 Jun 2006 - 'sleek'; 17 Sep 2006 - 'ink'; 31 Aug 2006 - 'fur'; 28 Sep 2006 - 'feather'; 30 Sep 2006 - 'pet'; 9 Oct 2006 - 'bat'

************************

Erestor looked down at his ink-stained fingers, courtesy of his spilt ink-well, and sighed. For the good part of two hours he had sat there, trying to write something that expressed his feelings for Glorfindel. He wanted to let his soon-to-be-mate know just how much he meant to the darkling elf, but Erestor was having difficulty in trying to keep it short. At the moment, the words that he had scribbled on the parchment resembled a long, rambling soliloquy that would bore everybody within the first minute of his reading it aloud.

With his clean hand he began to stroke the sleek fur of his pet kitten, Aranel, who arched and purred under his ministrations. Ever since Glorfindel had given the kitten to him, she had been the advisor's constant companion, often lying underneath his desk as he did his work.

Sighing, Erestor rose from his chair, and Aranel voiced her displeasure when the darkling elf ceased stroking her. "Díheno nín, pen-dithen," Erestor murmured as he almost absent-mindedly scratched behind her ear. Walking to the window, he spied a feather lying on the sill. Turning back to the kitten with it in his hand, he put it front of her, then smiled as she began to bat at it with her little paw. 'If only everything was so easily solved,' he mused.

Returning to the window, Erestor gazed out. One thing he very quickly realised was that he was actually looking forward to binding himself with Glorfindel. If the seneschal came to him this very minute and suggested that they bind themselves that day, he would not hesitate. For so long he had fought against Glorfindel, fought against his feelings for the seneschal, fought against any possible and conceivable thing imaginable, that Erestor felt that the upcoming ceremony would not just be a celebration of their binding, but also a celebration of relegating to the past, once and for all, what happened between him and Gil-galad.

Erestor straightened and looked back at his desk, smiling. With a determined step he walked over and sat down before screwing up the parchment that lay there. He knew now *exactly* what he was going to say and, pulling forward a fresh sheet of parchment, he went about his task with unbridled enthusiasm.

************************

Elvish translations: díheno nín - forgive me

pen-dithen - little one

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Title: Married to an Elf Part 3/25

Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)

Type: FPS

Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Lothvaen/?

Rating: NC17

Warnings: Talk of spanking and sex

Beta: Aglarien

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.

Feedback: Yes please…

Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask

Word count: 796

Summary/Notes: Lothvaen meets his mysterious Galadhel again. The prompts used were 26 Apr 2006 - 'thorn'; 29 Aug 2006 - 'fox'; 30 Aug 2006 - 'rescue'; 31 Aug 2006 - 'rodent'; 1 Sep 2006 - 'envy'; 21 Sep 2006 - 'beast/beastly'; 2 Oct 2006 - 'shadow'; 3 Oct 2006 - 'shimmer'; 8 Oct 2006 - 'wolf'; 10 Oct 2006 - 'rival/rivalry'; 12 Oct 2006 - 'spider'; 26 Aug 2007 - 'wrath'; 2 Sep 2007 - 'struggle'

************************

"Ouch!" Lothvaen sucked his thumb where the thorn had pricked him and glared at the offending object. As much as he loved roses, he had no love for their thorns. He was contemplating where best to hold the stem so he could cut a bloom when a shadow fell over the bush. Looking up, he nearly dropped the knife in shock.

"You!"

The Galadhel grinned. "Have you missed me?" he asked teasingly, and then laughed as he pretended to reel back in shock at the wrath emanating from the scribe.

"Miss you?" Lothvaen spat. "How could I miss someone who did not even have the courtesy to tell me his name, and then disappeared for over a week! Everyone here thinks you are a figment of my imagination." The scribe turned away, feeling the sudden urge to cry.

"Forgive me, pen-velui." The Galadhel was contrite. "I was asked to join a border patrol; that is why you have not seen me. Please," the Galadhel beseeched, "will you not turn and look at me?"

Slowly Lothvaen turned to face the other elf, unable to hide the shimmer of tears in his eyes.

"Ah, pen-velui, I did not mean to make you cry," the Galadhel said softly.

"I think you are a beast," Lothvaen said petulantly.

The Galadhel's lips twitched. "A beast, hmm? What sort of beast? A spider with a nasty bite? Or mayhap a ravenous wolf, ready to pounce on his unsuspecting victim. But what about the sly and cunning fox? No," the Galadhel shook his head, "not beastly enough. Nor is a rodent, though the Valar knows I have been nipped more than once by nasty-looking rats during my rare forays to human settlements. Hmm, what other beasts could there be, I wonder?"

Lothvaen laughed, giving up the struggle. "All you are being now is rather silly," he chortled.

"Silly?" The Galadhel looked affronted, but then smiled. "Ah, at least I have made you laugh, pen-velui. Does that mean I am forgiven?"

Lothvaen smiled coyly, his head to one side. "Possibly."

"Only possibly," the Galadhel mused. "But not definitely. I must try harder, then. However, there is something I must know, pen-velui. Is there one I must envy? Do I have a rival to your heart, one who waits hidden somewhere to rush to your rescue should I do anything untoward?"

Mutely Lothvaen shook his head.

The Galadhel gave a brilliant smile. "I am more than glad to know you are unattached, pen-velui, for I dreamt of you while I was away on patrol. And believe me when I say that my dreams were…tantalising. Do you want to know what I dreamt of, pen-velui?"

"What?" Lothvaen whispered, his eyes wide.

The other elf leant down so close that the scribe could feel the other's breath on his cheek. "I dreamt I had you over my knee, pen-velui," the Galadhel said huskily. "Your beautiful buttocks were bare, and I was rubbing them slowly, gently with my hand before I raised it and brought it down hard, leaving a red imprint. But you did not cry out, pen-velui. Instead you moaned so beautifully that I could feel myself shaking with need. I brought my hand down again and again, till your beautiful buttocks were red, while you continued to moan, and then beg, your own member hard and throbbing against my leg. One last slap to your buttocks, and you came, screaming, and I could feel your essence dripping down. And then you said to me: 'Take me. I want to feel you inside me. Make me yours, claim me.' So I did, pen-velui. I took you so completely, so thoroughly, and it was the most glorious experience in my life."

Lothvaen's legs were shaking, and he found himself grasping the other elf's arms to stay upright.

"Touch me." The Galadhel's voice was hoarse. "Feel how hard I am for you, how I ache for you."

His hand trembling, Lothvaen touched the obvious bulge in the silver-haired elf's leggings, and gasped. 'Valar,' he thought, 'he is so big!' He began to rub gently, fascinated as the Galadhel closed his eyes and thrust his groin into the scribe's hand. Then the Galadhel reached down and pulled Lothvaen's hand away, much to the scribe's disappointment.

"Enough." The other elf's voice was harsh with need. "Will you come to me tonight, pen-velui? Will you make my dream reality?"

"Yes," Lothvaen whispered. "I will come to you." The scribe stumbled slightly as the Galadhel moved away, his breathing laboured.

"Good. Till tonight, pen-velui." With a small bow, the Galadhel turned and started to walk away, albeit a little stiffly.

"Wait!" Stopping, the Galadhel turned his head. "You still have not told me your name," Lothvaen said.

The Galadhel smiled briefly. "Haldir."

************************

Elvish translations: pen-velui - lovely one

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Title: Married to an Elf Part 4/25

Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)

Type: FPS

Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Lothvaen/Haldir, Lindir

Rating: R

Warnings: References to sex.

Beta: Aglarien

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.

Feedback: Yes please…

Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask

Word count: 547

Summary/Notes: Lindir finds out some things about Lothvaen. The prompts used were 14 Sep 2006 - 'lonesome'; 6 Oct 2006 - 'violet'

************************

Lindir watched with some concern as Lothvaen sat down gingerly in his chair. "What happened, mellonen?" he asked. "Why do you look so…happy?"

"I am happy," Lothvaen replied, his face beatific.

"But you are hurt!"

"Not hurt, Lindir, but just a little sore. Haldir was more than…thorough," the scribe replied.

"Thorough?" the minstrel queried.

"*Very* thorough." Lothvaen's voice had taken on a dreamy quality.

"Thorough in what?" Lindir asked curiously.

"Taking me. He is rather…well-endowed," the scribe said a little coyly. "And he was so good in spanking me," Lothvaen continued, hurrying on when he saw the horrified expression on the minstrel's face, "but it was what I wanted."

"You *wanted* to be spanked?" Lindir asked in disbelief.

Lothvaen turned a puzzled gaze to his friend. "Of course. I like being spanked; I like being tied up; I like clamps being put on my nipples. I like quite a few things done to me, actually. I thought you knew that."

Lindir's face was a picture as he stared at his friend. "How in all of Middle-earth was I supposed to know any of *that*?" he finally asked.

"Oh. I take it you did not?" Lothvaen asked the obvious.

"No!"

"Ah. Well, now you know," the scribe said complacently. "I just thought that you would have heard me being a little…noisy."

Lindir shook his head. "I am on another floor at the opposite end of the corridor, mellonen. Nevertheless, I really do not think that was something I needed to know about." The minstrel reached towards the fruit bowl, then drew back his hand. "Who," he began slowly, "is Haldir?"

"The Galadhel that everyone thought I imagined," Lothvaen said cheerfully.

"You mean he is real?"

Lothvaen nodded as he bit into an apple. "Apparently he was invited to join a border patrol; that is why I had not seen him again until he returned yesterday."

"Is he not a Marchwarden?"

"He is. He is also Orophin's older brother, except I can not see much of a resemblance between the two."

"What will happen when he returns to Lothlórien?" Lindir asked.

Lothvaen gave a strange look. "What exactly is supposed to happen? He returns to Lothlórien, I remain here in Imladris, though I will be lonesome when he does go." He took another bite of his apple before noticing the expression on his friend's face. "All right, what is bothering you?"

"Do you think yourself in love with him?" Lindir asked quietly.

The scribe gave a short bark of laughter. "No," he declared emphatically. "I learnt my lesson with Elrohir. I am definitely in lust with Haldir. He knows what I like, and is more than happy to indulge me because it is something he enjoys doing. So stop worrying, Lindir."

The minstrel was silent, contemplating his plate before him, before turning his violet-hued gaze to his friend. "I will try, mellonen. I just feel that this has happened too quickly…"

"After Elrohir?" Lothvaen shrugged slightly. "Possibly, I do not know. However, I intend to enjoy myself for the time that Haldir is here. Now, could you pass me over some of that bread, please?"

Wordlessly, Lindir passed over the platter, his mien sombre. He could not help but feel that his friend was once more heading towards heartbreak.

************************

Elvish translations: mellonen - my friend

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Title: Married to an Elf Part 5/25

Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)

Type: FPS

Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel

Rating: PG

Warnings: None

Beta: Aglarien

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.

Feedback: Yes please…

Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask

Word count: 554

Summary/Notes: Glorfindel reaches the end of his tether. The prompts used were 2 Aug 2006 - 'flap'; 5 Aug 2007 - 'enjoy'; 6 Aug 2007 - 'challenge'; 18 Aug 2007 - 'endeavour'

************************

The day before the ceremony saw Erestor in more of a flap than usual. Many an amused gaze was directed his way as he continued to try and organise everything, despite Elrond's protestations that he need not, indeed should not, do anything at all. However, in the end, the elf-lord threw his hands in the air in resignation. It was obvious to him that Erestor would not be happy unless he had a hand in the preparations.

Glorfindel, in the meantime, watched as his betrothed went through the various lists again and again, wondering how he could possibly get the darkling elf to forget about lists, fittings and the myriad of other things that a ceremony somehow required, for at least an afternoon. After listening to Erestor complain - again - about what type of food to have for the celebration afterwards, the seneschal had had enough. "Leave it," he ordered. "You have gone through that list so many times that I am surprised the cooks have not walked out of the kitchens, vowing never to return!"

"But…"

"No. Buts." Glorfindel glared at the advisor. "Enough is enough. It is the day before the ceremony, and you have done nothing but chase your own tail. This is not the first binding ceremony to be held here in Imladris, and Elrond is fully capable of organising it." The seneschal shook his head. "Yet you can not help yourself, can you?"

"There is still much to do," Erestor said quietly.

"Then let someone else do it!" Glorfindel roared. He strode towards the desk and picked up every single piece of parchment he could find, barely missing knocking over the ink-well in his haste.

"What are you doing?!" Erestor demanded.

"What does it look like I am doing? I am taking all of this and giving it to Elrond; if there is something that still needs to be finalised for the ceremony, then he can do it. You are *not* doing anything more." With those parting words, Glorfindel stormed out of the room with the parchments, only to return a few minutes later with a satisfied smile on his face.

"There, done," he announced. "Elrond said he was more than happy to finish things off. Now, what to do with *you* for the rest of the day," Glorfindel said with a determined look.

"Do with me? There is nothing to be done, certainly not by you!" Erestor hissed.

"No?" Glorfindel raised an eyebrow in amusement.

"No!" Erestor stood with his arms crossed over his chest and glared at the golden-haired warrior.

"Ah, ervainen vorn, you should know better," Glorfindel said softly. "There is nothing I enjoy more than a challenge." His pace was slow and measured as he approached the darkling elf. "Tell me, melethen, are you going to endeavour to thwart me and provide me with a greater challenge?" he purred.

Erestor swallowed. "Do you want me to?" he whispered.

Glorfindel smiled. "I do not think I would mind if you did," he admitted.

"Good - for if you wish to do 'something' with me, maethoren vain, then you will have to catch me first." With a grin, Erestor quickly dashed past the surprised seneschal and ran out of the room.

"Oh, never fear, I most will catch you!" Then, with a joyous laugh, Glorfindel followed his darkling elf.

************************

Elvish translations: ervainen vorn - my dark beautiful one

maethoren vain - my beautiful warrior

melethen - my love

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Title: Married to an Elf Part 6/25

Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)

Type: FPS

Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Elladan, Elrohir

Rating: PG

Warnings: None

Beta: Aglarien

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.

Feedback: Yes please…

Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask

Word count: 622

Summary/Notes: Elladan surprises his brother The prompts used were 18 Aug 2006 - 'freedom'; 14 Sep 2006 - 'mirror'; 22 Aug 2007 - 'joke'

************************

"When are you going to stop hiding, Elladan?" Elrohir's voice was quiet, though the sorrow was evident in its tone.

"How can I hide when you always seem to know where to find me?" Elladan retorted bitterly. "I can not go anywhere without you appearing moments later!"

"You exaggerate."

"Do I?" Elladan responded, but then sighed. "I just want the freedom to be able to be on my own, Elrohir. Surely that is not too difficult to understand?"

"I left you alone for a good three days after the conversation with our father and grandmother, Elladan. How much more time do you need?" Elrohir stood before his twin, grasping his chin and forcing Elladan to look at him when the other turned his head away. "I repeat: How much more time do you need?"

"I hear Adar has taken over finalising everything for the ceremony."

"Stop changing the subject!" Elrohir took a deep breath in an attempt to contain his anger. "You said that you had come to the same conclusion that we were more than likely soul-mates, Elladan," he began, his voice now carefully controlled. "Yet you fight it. Why?"

"Do you really want to know the truth?" Elladan's gaze was stormy with emotion.

"That is all I ask," Elrohir said quietly. "Tell me, Elladan; mayhap we can then finally work this all out."

Elladan swallowed. "I had always wondered what…what it would be like…" he began haltingly.

"What would 'what' be like?" Elrohir prompted.

"What it would be like to make love to one who was the mirror-image of yourself." There, the words were out, and Elladan waited with some trepidation as to what his brother's reaction would be.

"For how long?" Elrohir asked quietly.

"Since our majority."

Elrohir paused only momentarily before asking, "And when did you realise that we could be soul-mates?"

Elladan took a deep breath. "At the same time," he confessed.

The younger Peredhel stepped away, his gaze never leaving his brother's. "Is that what grandmother meant?" he whispered.

"Partly, I think." For every step that Elrohir took back, Elladan took one forward, till he had his younger twin pinned to the wall. "For so long I had buried deep the idea that we could possibly be more than just brothers, so when you finally realised it yourself I just wanted to run and hide as far away as possible. It did not help to find out that father and grandmother were aware. Not to mention Erestor and Glorfindel. It makes it seem so…so…final, so absolute!"

"So you knew before I even said anything to you about what grandmother had said," Elrohir said softly.

Elladan nodded, and raised a shaking hand to caress his brother's cheek. "But I could never rid myself of my desire for you. It has always been there, hidden, but now…" Elladan's voice trailed off, and he allowed his hand to fall from Elrohir's face to skim his arm till they reached the younger twin's hand. Giving a gentle tug, he led Elrohir to a mirror. "Look at us in the mirror," Elladan exhorted hoarsely. "I know that, whenever I have looked, I have always seen you by my side, even though you were not physically standing next to me as you are now. But the shadow of your soul was always there, always. So many times I wanted to say something to you, yet I always hesitated, afraid of your reaction, despite what you had overheard."

Elrohir tore his hand away from his brother's grip and rapidly stepped back. "I can not listen to any more. I…I need…" With a final, beseeching look at Elladan, Elrohir turned and practically raced out the door, leaving his more than bewildered brother in his wake.

************************

Elvish translations: Adar - father

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Title: Married to an Elf Part 7/25

Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)

Type: FPS

Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel

Rating: PG

Warnings: None

Beta: Aglarien

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.

Feedback: Yes please…

Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask

Word count: 684

Summary/Notes: It's the morning of the binding ceremony, but Erestor and Glorfindel still find time to occupy themselves… The prompts used were 9 Aug 2006 - 'citrus'; 3 Aug 2007 - 'grapes'; 30 Aug 2007 - 'relief'

************************

The day of the ceremony dawned, and already the house was in full motion. Elrond checked and re-checked everything, driving practically everyone else to distraction.

"I swear," one of the cooks muttered under her breath, moving the bowl of citrus fruits aside that Elrond had unceremoniously dumped on the table, "that he is worse than Lord Erestor!"

"Worse?" a voice asked.

Whirling around, the cook flushed slightly under Glorfindel's amused gaze. "Diheno nin, hiren," she whispered. "I did not mean to insult Lord Elrond."

Glorfindel gave a small laugh. "I know you do not. If truth be told, I think you may be right," he added conspiratorially, winking.

The cook giggled. "Why, Lord Glorfindel, are you flirting with me? And on the morning of your binding ceremony!"

"Ah, I am but merely making the most of the hours I have left before I am irrevocably bound to the one who holds my heart."

"I am so pleased for both of you," the cook said quietly. "We all are."

"Thank you." Looking about him, Glorfindel frowned slightly at the other elves bustling about. "Is there a chance of getting some food? I am afraid both Erestor and I have missed out…" The seneschal had no time to finish off his sentence when he was pushed unceremoniously onto a stool.

"But, of course! Sit here while I quickly prepare something for the two of you!"

Glorfindel watched, bemused, as the cook quickly gathered her ingredients and, before long, a tray was placed before him, filled with freshly-made pancakes, succulent strawberries, grapes, cream, and a myriad of other treats that the seneschal feared the tray would break under the weight should he try and lift it. "Enough!" he laughed. "We will not be able to eat all of this!"

The cook looked at him knowingly. "Yes, you will."

This time it was Glorfindel's turn to flush under her gaze, and decided it was time to beat a hasty withdrawal. Lifting the tray, he said a brief 'thank you' before exiting the kitchen, leaving a smirking cook in his wake.

Balancing the almost over-laden tray, Glorfindel carefully moved his way down the corridor back to the room he and Erestor now shared. His question as to how he was going to hold the tray one-handed whilst trying to open the door was answered when said door was opened by Erestor, whose eyes widened. "We can not eat all of that!" he protested.

"According to the cook, we will. She seemed to be rather…sure of it, actually."

The slight innuendo was not lost on Erestor. He blinked and then his cheeks took on a slightly pink hue. "Oh," was all he said before opening the door wider and allowing the seneschal to enter the room.

With a sigh of relief, Glorfindel placed the tray onto the table, and then turned to look at the darkling elf. "Where would you like to start?"

Gazing at the munificence before him, Erestor could feel his mouth beginning to water. "Are those pancakes freshly-made?" he asked.

"They are, and the eggs have just been boiled. The bread has only just come out of the oven, too."

"Is there some of that special cream cheese?" Erestor asked hopefully.

In reply, Glorfindel found the plate holding the more than generous portion.

"Definitely pancakes, strawberries and the cream cheese."

Glorfindel smiled. "And what about afterwards?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows.

Erestor's gaze widened slightly. "Afterwards we start getting ready for the ceremony," he said nonchalantly.

"The ceremony is not until the end of the day, ervainen vorn," Glorfindel responded.

"Is it?" The deceptiveness of Erestor's voice was belied by the now sultry gaze that he was directing at the golden-haired warrior, and Glorfindel swallowed.

"Did you have something…specific in mind?" the seneschal asked, his voice low.

"Mayhap," Erestor responded, licking his fingers clean of any residue from the cream cheese. Glorfindel watched the darkling elf's movements, wishing that talented tongue would be used on his erection, now very prominent in his leggings.

"I do know what you are thinking, melethron," Erestor purred.

"Good," Glorfindel said huskily.

************************

Elvish translations: ervainen vorn - my dark beautiful one

melethron - male lover

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Title: Married to an Elf Part 8/25

Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)

Type: FPS

Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Elladan, Elrohir

Rating: PG

Warnings: None

Beta: Aglarien

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.

Feedback: Yes please…

Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask

Word count: 532

Summary/Notes: Elladan goes in search of Elrohir. The prompts used were 9 Aug 2007 - 'clouds'; 21 Aug 2007 - 'cave'; 18 Sep 2007 - 'quarry'; 20 Sep 2007 - 'hunt'; 21 Sep 2007 - 'find'; 27 Sep 2007 - 'hurt'

************************

The hunt for his quarry was proving to be more than challenging. It was as if his younger twin had disappeared completely, but Elladan was determined to find him, no matter how long it took. The elder twin had looked for Elrohir at the most obvious place - the hut near the waterfall, but there was no sign that the younger twin was there.

'Strange,' he thought mirthlessly. 'First I hide, now him; except he seems to be better at it than me.' Throughout the night, he could sense Elrohir's confusion after their encounter, but at the time could not understand why. He thought his brother would welcome his words; instead, Elladan seemed to have hurt him. But now, in the clear of morning, an inkling of understanding permeated his mind.

The cave! Suddenly, the idea that Elrohir might be there hit Elladan full force. Rapidly going back to his room, Elladan quickly changed into more serviceable clothing before heading out to the stable and saddling his horse. Looking into the next stall, he cursed himself for not noticing earlier that Elrohir's horse was gone. If he rode quickly enough, he would be at the cave before mid-morning, try and sort something out with his brother and then be back for the ceremony tonight.

"So you now know where your brother is." Galadriel's voice halted Elladan momentarily.

"Aye," he admitted, "though it took me long enough." He turned to face his grandmother. "I will make sure that we are back before the ceremony. We would not be forgiven otherwise."

Galadriel smiled. "I know you will be." She watched as her eldest grandson led his horse out of the stable.

"Do you usually know others better than they know themselves?" Elladan asked, a small smile playing on his lips.

The Lady of Lothlórien, still smiling, merely looked at Elladan, who shook his head. "I should have known better than to ask that," he said, mounting his horse.

Watching Elladan ride away, Galadriel sensed Elrond's approach. "He goes off in search of Elrohir," the elf-lord said, watching Elladan disappear through the trees.

"Yes, he does," Galadriel affirmed. Her gaze went up and watched the clouds as they drifted aimlessly across the otherwise clear blue sky.

"What is it you know about Elladan?" Elrond asked quietly.

Galadriel turned her gaze to the elf-lord. "Know?" she queried. "Only what I have seen in the mirror, Elrond. Elladan's heart has always known what it has wanted, but his mind has fought against it constantly. Now that which he desires most is within his grasp, yet he fears that it is all a dream from which he will awaken."

Elrond's eyes widened. "Are you suggesting that Elladan has always…"

"…desired Elrohir? Has always known that his brother was his soul-mate? Yes. However, what he struggles with is the idea that it is his *twin* who can only make him complete."

Elrond took a deep breath, and then let it out slowly. "In other words, he needs to forget that Elrohir is his brother, and look upon him as a lover and mate instead."

"A simple way of putting it but, yes, Elladan needs to change his way of thinking."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Title: Married to an Elf Part 9/25

Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)

Type: FPS

Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Lothvaen/Haldir

Rating: PG

Warnings: None

Beta: Aglarien

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.

Feedback: Yes please…

Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask

Word count: 580

Summary/Notes: A revelation from Haldir leaves Lothvaen floundering. The prompts used were 24 Aug 2007 - 'tender'; 30 Oct 2006 - 'horror'; 17 July 2007 - 'rigid'; 27 Aug 2007 - 'trust'; 24 Sep 2007 - 'willing'

************************

"How do you feel this morning?"

Lothvaen winced slightly as he moved. "A little tender," he admitted.

"Methinks we went a little far last night," Haldir responded, gently kissing the scribe on the forehead.

"But I wanted you to…"

"Shhh." Haldir placed his finger on Lothvaen's lips, silencing him for the moment. "As much as we both enjoy what we do, one can sometimes have too much of a good thing." He gathered Lothvaen closer to him, stroking his hair. His hand stopped, however, when he felt something wet on his chest and, to his horror, he saw that Lothvaen was crying. "Pen-velui? What is it?"

Lothvaen shook his head, not trusting himself to speak. To him, it was Elrohir all over again. He had really hoped that Haldir would be different, especially as he was more than willing - in fact, enthusiastic - to do anything that Lothvaen desired.

"Please, pen-velui, tell me!" There was such concern in Haldir's voice that Lothvaen finally raised himself and looked at the Galadhel. "You no longer wish to continue with our 'games'," he said, the flatness of his voice belied by the tears that were still flowing freely down his face.

Haldir closed his eyes briefly, and then reopened them. "Nothing could be farther from the truth, pen-velui. But you are more than just a little sore, you are hurting. No," he said firmly, watching as Lothvaen began shaking his head, "do not deny it, pen-velui." He drew Lothvaen back down and tenderly wiped away the tears. "Trust me, pen-velui, I have no intention of stopping our 'games'. All I want is to give you the chance to recover. Would you be willing to hold off, at least for one day? That is all I ask."

Lothvaen thought for a moment, and then nodded. "All right," he whispered. "At least for a day."

The Galadhel smiled. "Good. And do not be afraid to tell me when you are hurting too much, pen-velui. What we do is supposed to be enjoyable, but it stops being that when unwarranted pain is inflicted. I do not want to hurt you, pen-velui; I care for you too much."

"You do?"

"I do," Haldir affirmed. "In fact, I know I will find it very hard to leave you when it is time for me to return to Lothlórien."

"Oh." Lothvaen's voice was small, and Haldir's heart skipped a beat.

"Is something wrong?" the Galadhel asked cautiously.

"Wrong? I…no…no, nothing is wrong." Lothvaen tried to keep his voice casual, but Haldir was not deceived.

"There is something that disturbs you, pen-velui. Is it because I said I cared for you?" Haldir paused for a moment, and then said, "Or is it because you do not care for me?" There, the words were out, and Haldir found he was holding his breath, waiting to hear what Lothvaen would say.

"Of course I care!" Lothvaen burst out, raising himself once more to look at Haldir. "'Tis just…I just thought…I mean, I *do* like you…"

"But to you I am just an elf with whom to while away the time. I understand. I thought…" Haldir shook his head. "Never mind what I thought." He rolled away from the scribe and stood up.

"Haldir…" Lothvaen began, but then his voice trailed off. Haldir's back was rigid as the Galadhel reached for his leggings, and the scribe watched helplessly as Haldir quickly dressed himself and let himself out of the room without once turning back.

************************

Elvish translations: Galadhel - tree elf

pen-velui - lovely one

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Title: Married to an Elf Part 10/25

Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)

Type: FPS

Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Lindir/Legolas

Rating: R

Warnings: None

Beta: Aglarien

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.

Feedback: Yes please…

Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask

Word count: 620

Summary/Notes: Legolas threatens Lindir. The prompts used were 1 Aug 2006 - 'towel'; 15 Aug 2006 - 'note'; 28 Sep 2006 - 'tickle'; 13 July 2007 - 'trick'

************************

"Have you seen my leggings?" Lindir looked about him, perplexed. He was sure he had left the leggings lying on the bed, but now they had disappeared.

"You draped them over the chair," came the disembodied voice from the adjoining chamber. A short moment later, Legolas came into the room clad in a thin robe that left little to the imagination, a towel in his hand. The minstrel stopped to take in the sight.

"A pity you can not stay the way you are," Lindir said huskily.

"Behave," Legolas admonished, though there was a smile of pleasure on his face. "Can you imagine the scandal I would cause if I showed up at the ceremony wearing nothing but this robe?"

"All the other elves would be envious that I am the lucky one who has managed to ensnare you," Lindir replied, walking up to Legolas and spreading open the robe to run his hands appreciatively over the prince's chest.

Legolas took a shuddering breath. "Enough," he managed to say, grasping the questing hands that had begun to move downwards.

Lindir pouted. "But I see something of *great* interest to me," he said, glancing down at Legolas' erection that was becoming rather noticeable.

Legolas shook his head in amusement before placing a swift kiss upon the pouting lips of his lover. "Seriously, Lindir, we must ready ourselves for the ceremony. There is very little time left."

"But…"

"No 'buts', melethen. Now, I have told you where your leggings are; can you tell me where my circlet is?"

"I might know where it is." There was an impish grin on Lindir's face, and Legolas' eyes narrowed as he watched Lindir move away.

"All right, what have you done with it?" he asked as he advanced upon the minstrel, flexing his fingers. Lindir caught the movement on Legolas' hands and ran behind a chair.

"You do not mean to tickle me, do you?" Lindir asked a little fearfully.

There was a mischievous grin on Legolas' face. "If it is required to get the information out of you, melethen, then I will."

"But you know it will leave me a quivering mess! I will not be able to play a note later tonight."

"Then you should have thought of that before you hid my circlet."

"I have not hidden your circlet! I only said I might know where it is. Please, Legolas…"

Legolas stopped advancing upon Lindir and crossed his arms over his chest. "Then where is it?" he asked.

"Where you last left it?" Lindir said hopefully.

"Are you trying to trick me?" Legolas asked suspiciously.

Lindir shook his head. "I know you had it out of its box last night, but I am sure you put it back in again."

"If it were in the box," Legolas began patiently, "do you think I would be asking where it is?"

"Oh. It is not there?"

This time Legolas shook his head. "No, it is not." He looked about him a little ruefully before adding, "And considering your penchant for strewing your things about, 'tis no wonder I am not able to see it."

"Shall I help you look for it?" Lindir asked in a small voice. Moments later, the minstrel found himself in a tight embrace.

"'Tis all right, merilinin dithen. I am not angry with you, just annoyed with myself for not having returned it to its rightful place," Legolas soothed.

"But I am messy. It could take us ages before we find it," Lindir countered.

"Then let us not waste any more time. We shall start with the table; it is where I took it out of its box. I am sure it is lying somewhere under those parchments."

************************

Elvish translations: melethen - my love

merilinin dithen - my little nightingale (I hope - please correct me if I'm wrong!)

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Title: Married to an Elf Part 11/25

Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)

Type: FPS

Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Lothvaen/Haldir

Rating: PG

Warnings: None

Beta: Aglarien

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.

Feedback: Yes please…

Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask

Word count: 766

Summary/Notes: Lothvaen annoys Erestor. The prompts used were 16 Sep 2007 - 'early'; 25 Sep 2007 - 'calm'

************************

Erestor was feeling surprisingly calm, despite the fact that the ceremony was rapidly approaching. Glorfindel had retired to another room to ready himself, leaving the darkling elf to finish his own ablutions and wait for the twins to come and help him dress in his wedding robes. Providing, of course, the twins returned to the house in enough time. Elrond had already warned him that Elladan had gone in search of his brother and that neither as yet had returned.

Sighing, the advisor reached for the parchment and read once more what he had written. It was still a little long and possibly rambling, but once Erestor had begun to write, he found he was literally pouring his heart and soul onto the parchment. Perhaps he would read only parts of it, but let Glorfindel read it all after the celebration. Yes, that seemed the most sensible course of action.

Carefully laying the parchment back on the table, Erestor rose from his chair and walked to the window. It was already late afternoon, and he could not help but feel a little uneasy. He had no idea what had transpired to cause Elrohir to suddenly leave the house; he only hoped that Elladan had been able to find the younger twin and bring him back.

In hindsight, this was not a good thing to be happening right at this point in time. Despite the obvious joy at the upcoming binding ceremony and celebration, there was still an edge of tension in the air. But it was early days yet; Erestor felt that it would still take some time before the situation with the twins resolved itself.

At first, the knock on his door did not register. When the sound came again, Erestor snapped out his musings. "Enter," he called, and was surprised to see Lothvaen entering his room. Taking in the woeful expression on the scribe's face, he became immediately concerned. "What is it? Has something happened?" Erestor asked worriedly.

For a moment, Lothvaen just stood there, and then blurted out, "Haldir says he cares for me."

Erestor was not sure what to make of this remark. "And?" he finally said.

"And I said I liked him."

The advisor was a little perplexed. "I am afraid I do not understand what you are trying to tell me, pen-neth."

"He asked me if I cared for him, and I told him that I did, that I liked him, and…well…oh…I think I have made a mess of things, Erestor!"

Erestor stood there, trying to make sense of what the younger elf was saying. "Is there something wrong with Haldir caring for you?" he asked, trying to find a beginning in what Lothvaen was trying to say."

"No…I do not think so." Lothvaen frowned slightly. "Except that he said he would find it hard to leave me when he returned to Lothlórien."

"In other words, Haldir cares for you more than you care for him," Erestor surmised.

Lothvaen nodded weakly. "Do you think he means that he loves me?" he asked a little fearfully.

Wondering why in all of Middle-earth Lothvaen was telling him this, Erestor rubbed his forehead. "I really can not answer that question, Lothvaen," he said tiredly. "Mayhap you should be speaking to him, and not to me."

"He was upset when he left me," Lothvaen volunteered. "I am not sure if he wants to speak to me right now."

'And I most definitely do not wish to speak of this,' Erestor thought a little sourly. "Then all I can suggest, pen-neth," he began, "is to leave Haldir alone for a little while before approaching him. And, when you do, I suggest you do so in private. I do not think the whole of Imladris needs to know what exactly is going on between the two of you."

Lothvaen took in what the darkling elf told him. "Very well, I shall do as you suggest," he said, trying to sound decisive. "Can I ask you something else, while I am here?"

Erestor counted to ten. "No, pen-neth. I think it is time you readied yourself for the ceremony. Whatever it is you wish to ask, I am sure it can wait for another time."

"Oh. So you would like me to leave?"

The advisor gritted his teeth and counted to ten once more. "If you would not mind."

"All right." Looking a little brighter than he was when he entered the room, Lothvaen quickly left, leaving the darkling elf to wonder why he had all of a sudden become an expert on matters of the heart.

************************

Elvish translations: pen-neth - young one

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Title: Married to an Elf Part 12/25

Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)

Type: FPS

Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Elladan, Elrohir

Rating: PG

Warnings: None

Beta: Aglarien

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.

Feedback: Yes please…

Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask

Word count: 419

Summary/Notes: Elladan finds Elrohir. The prompts used were 8 Nov 2006 - 'horse' and 'ride/rider'; 7 Aug 2007 - 'welcome'; 28 Aug 2007 - 'parched'

************************

When Elrohir heard the horse approaching, he knew the rider would be Elladan. He grimaced slightly. He still felt a little annoyed at Elladan for having realised that they were more than just brothers and had not said anything. However, truth be told, even though he had overheard his grandmother's words he had not been ready to take things further. He sighed. Elladan had confessed he had wondered what it would be like to make love to his mirror image, that he desired his younger twin. If Elrohir was going to be honest with himself, what Elladan had said had frightened him.

The horse had stopped, and Elrohir's keen hearing discerned the moment his brother had alighted from his horse. Moments later, Elladan stepped into the cave.

"Do you have any water?" Elladan asked casually. "I am parched after my ride."

Elrohir reached for a water skin and wordlessly handed it to his brother. After taking a deep swallow, he gave it back to Elrohir. "What, no word of welcome?"

The younger twin shook his head wearily. "What would you like me to say?"

"How about something along the lines of: 'Sorry I ran out on you and worrying everybody in the process'?" Elladan's voice was faintly mocking.

Elrohir sighed. "Can we not discuss this later, Elladan? Suffice to say, I needed some time to myself - something that you, especially, should understand. After all, did you not say just days ago that you 'wanted the freedom to be able to be on your own'?"

Elladan bowed his head slightly at the rebuke, his lips compressing into a thin line. Whether he liked it or not, Elrohir had a point. "We need to return to the house," he said quietly. "Erestor has requested specifically that we help him get ready for the ceremony; we can not let him down."

"You are changing the subject again, Elladan."

"You *did* say you wanted to discuss this later, Elrohir."

"I was actually referring to what I had said after that," the younger Peredhel responded.

"I did not see the need to," Elladan said. "Or must I always say 'you are right' to appease you?"

"No, Elladan," Elrohir said tiredly. "Come, as you say, we can not let Erestor down." Stepping out of the cave, he quickly saddled his horse and mounted, gathering the reins in his hands.

Elladan watched his brother silently before mounting his horse as well, and they both rode back to the house, each caught up in their own thoughts.

************************

Elvish translations: Peredhel - half elf

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Title: Married to an Elf Part 13/25

Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)

Type: FPS

Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel

Rating: PG

Warnings: None

Beta: Aglarien

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.

Feedback: Yes please…

Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask

Word count: 609

Summary/Notes: Celebrations begin. The prompts used were 15 Sep 2006 - 'heal/healer'; 14 May 2007 - 'jubilant'; 14 Sep 2007 - 'feed'

************************

Erestor sat back, content. The twins had returned in just enough time to help him dress for the ceremony, though the darkling elf could sense that things were still unresolved between the two. Not that he was surprised, but he could see that both Elladan and Elrohir had made a concerted effort to not let what was happening between them cast a shadow over the ceremony.

His gaze turned to Glorfindel. The seneschal was laughing at something that Legolas had said, and Erestor could only marvel - again - that the golden-haired warrior was now his mate. He sighed happily, and took a sip from the goblet of wine that was miraculously full every time he picked it up.

"You look almost jubilant, melethen," a voice whispered in his ear.

Erestor turned and looked into the twinkling blue eyes of his mate. "Mayhap that is because I am," he whispered back, giggling slightly. A hand swiftly reached out to stop Erestor from tipping the wine into his lap.

"Methinks, melethen, you have drunk more wine than you usually do." Glorfindel's voice could not hide his amusement.

Erestor stared at the goblet, seemingly absorbed, before turning his gaze to the golden-haired warrior. "I do believe you may be right," he said in utter seriousness, and then gave a small hiccup. "Oh dear," he said inanely, watching as Glorfindel removed the goblet from his hand and set it upon the table.

"What you need, melethen, is some sustenance. You have barely eaten anything. Wait here, and I shall bring you back a plate."

The darkling elf watched as Glorfindel moved his way through the throngs of people, admiring how the cream-coloured leggings enhanced the very delectable backside encased in them. Erestor's mouth watered. Yes, Glorfindel was right. The advisor definitely needed some sustenance, but not the kind that his mate thought the darkling elf needed.

When Glorfindel returned, he set the plate in front of Erestor. "Here. Elrond suggests you should also drink water from now on."

Erestor smiled. "Elrond is such a good healer, is he not?"

Glorfindel blinked. "Of course he is, melethen." He picked up one of the savoury pastries. "I have not seen you try one of these."

"Oh, are you going to feed me?" Erestor asked happily.

The seneschal said nothing, instead guiding the pastry into Erestor's mouth, only to stifle a groan as the darkling elf's tongue flicked out to lick away the errant crumbs from Glorfindel's fingers.

"Mmmm…delicious," Erestor purred. He leaned towards Glorfindel, the crackling of parchment stopping him from actually kissing his mate. Pulling the now slightly creased parchment out from under him, Erestor laid it on the table.

Glorfindel stared at it a little curiously. "What is that?" he asked.

"Something I had written to read out," Erestor said, his gaze now serious. "My thoughts, my feelings for you."

"You were planning to read it out…when?"

"I was planning to do it after the binding ceremony, but now…" Erestor blushed slightly. "Now I think I should just let you read it instead. I do, after all, have a reputation to maintain, and reading this," Erestor said, pointing to the parchment, "would more than likely put a serious dent in it."

Glorfindel picked up the parchment and opened it, his eyes widening slightly as he read the contents. "Melethen," the golden-haired warrior began, "if you had read this out loud to everyone here, you would have ruined your reputation beyond redemption." He smiled. "I would much rather, ervainen vorn, if you actually *showed* me."

"I think I can manage to do that, maethoren vain," the darkling elf said, his eyes glinting with anticipation.

************************

Elvish translations: ervainen vorn - my dark beautiful one

maethoren vain - my beautiful warrior

melethen - my love

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Title: Married to an Elf Part 14/25

Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)

Type: FPS

Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Lindir/Legolas, Lothvaen/Haldir, Elladan, Elrohir

Rating: PG

Warnings: None

Beta: Aglarien

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.

Feedback: Yes please…

Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask

Word count: 681

Summary/Notes: Lindir is in for a surprise. The prompts used were 6 Sep 2006 - 'tapestry'; 17 Sep 2007 - 'perfect'

************************

Whiling away the time, Lindir stared at the tapestry on the wall as he waited for Legolas to show. The prince had merely smiled and said nothing when Lindir had asked him why, leaving the minstrel in a heightened state of anticipation.

The celebration after the binding ceremony was still in full swing, though Erestor and Glorfindel had long since retired amidst much ribald jokes and innuendos that had only made the newly bonded couple laugh as they left.

Then there was Lothvaen and Haldir. Something had happened between the two, Lindir was sure. He saw his friend constantly seeking out the Marchwarden during the celebration, yet making no move towards him once the scribe had seen him. Nor had Haldir approached Lothvaen.

As for the twins, they seemed to be in good enough spirits. No-one was really sure what was going on between the two, with those in the know being tight-lipped. Whatever it was, though, Lindir hoped that it would resolve itself soon. The minstrel was genuinely fond of them, and it bothered him to see Elladan and Elrohir at odds with each other.

"Are you ready?" Legolas' voice preceded him as he walked out of the gloom of the corridor.

"Yes," Lindir said. "But where are we going?"

Legolas raised his hand and gently laid a finger on the minstrel's lips. "No more questions," he said softly. "Just trust me."

Resisting the urge to take the finger in his mouth and suck on it so as to watch his lover's reaction, Lindir nodded his agreement.

Silently the prince made his way further down the corridor to the door leading outside, Lindir following in his wake. They remained silent, Lindir continuing to follow Legolas as the prince walked towards a glade of trees that were still close to the house, yet secluded enough from any prying eyes, their path clearly marked under the full gaze of Ithil.

"We are here," Legolas said, turning his gaze towards Lindir.

The minstrel swallowed, suddenly overcome by the love shining so obviously from the prince's eyes. He then turned and took in the sight before him. Someone - certainly not Legolas, who had been at the celebration the whole time - had arranged blankets and bedding in the small clearing within the glade, together with a basket that Lindir surmised contained food and drink of some sort. It was, in the minstrel's eyes, perfect, but he was no clearer as to what it was all about. He turned back to Legolas. "Why?" he asked simply.

"'Tis a beautiful night, Lindir. When I heard that the binding ceremony was to be held at twilight, I thought it fitting that we would have our own celebration later, under starlight and moonlight... though you, melethen, outshine the moon and the stars." Legolas' voice was husky, and Lindir felt himself shiver.

"Celebration?" the minstrel whispered.

Taking Lindir by the hand, Legolas drew him towards the bedding and guided him down. The prince's mien was serious as he continued to clasp the minstrel's hand. "Would you," he began after taking a deep breath, "consider leaving Imladris and returning with me to Mirkwood?"

Lindir's heart began to pound. "Go with you to Mirkwood? Why are you asking me this?"

Reaching inside his tunic, Legolas withdrew a chain, on which there were two mithril rings, and Lindir's eyes widened. "I know we have not been courting for long, merilinin dithen, but of this I am certain. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Would you agree in becoming my betrothed, Lindir? Will you bind with me?"

The minstrel stared at Legolas, completely lost for words.

Legolas smiled a little ruefully. "I can see I have more than surprised you, melethen. However, I understand if you do not wish to answer me straight away…"

"Yes!"

Lindir's outburst stopped Legolas, and it was the prince's turn to be stunned into silence.

"I love you, Legolas. I would follow you to the ends of Middle-earth if need be but, yes, I will bind myself to you, and go with you to Mirkwood."

************************

Elvish translations: melethen - my love

merilinin dithen - my little nightingale

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Title: Married to an Elf Part 15/25

Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)

Type: FPS

Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Lindir/Legolas, Lothvaen/Haldir

Rating: NC17

Warnings: Sex scene ahead…

Beta: Aglarien

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.

Feedback: Yes please…

Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask

Word count: 775

Summary/Notes: Erestor makes Glorfindel a happy elf. The prompts used were 5 Jul 2006 - 'swim'; 5 Oct 2006 - 'negotiate/negotiation'; 17 Oct 2006 - 'dreary'; 6 Sep 2007 - 'kneel'; 22 Sep 2007 - 'move'

************************

"Shall we go for a swim?"

Erestor raised his head at the sound of his mate-of-nearly-two-weeks' voice and smiled. "An excellent idea," he said. "Anything to get away from these dreary reports."

The seneschal laughed. "Since when have reports become dreary to you?" he asked.

"Since my binding with a certain golden-haired warrior who makes life infinitely more interesting than reports - though I should not have said that, for you have a big enough head as it is."

Glorfindel huffed in mock indignation. "I do not have a big head!"

"No," Erestor agreed with a smile, "you do not. However, I have no desire to continue reading any further about this negotiation for a revised trade agreement, not when I can think of much better things to do."

"Such as?" Glorfindel wanted to know, his eyes gleaming.

"Such as going for a swim," the darkling elf replied, deliberately ignoring the moue of disappointment on his mate's face. Rising up from his chair, Erestor threw down his quill with some satisfaction. Aranel, disturbed from her slumber at Erestor's feet, stretched and yawned before stalking out from beneath the advisor's desk.

"When is Thranduil due to arrive?" Glorfindel asked as he stepped aside to allow Erestor to go through the door.

"Tomorrow," Erestor replied. "I suspect Legolas' sudden betrothal to Lindir has caught him by surprise as much as it did us."

"They certainly did not waste any time," Glorfindel said, remembering the sight of the two more than satisfied elves arriving back at the house the morning after his and Erestor's binding ceremony.

"If only everything could be resolved so quickly and easily." Erestor sighed. "The twins are avoiding each other, as if they are hoping the situation between them would just disappear. As for Lothvaen and Haldir…" The advisor shook his head. "I only wish that Lothvaen could sort out his heart. It is obvious that Haldir cares a great deal about Lothvaen, but…"

"…Lothvaen is afraid. I do not think his heart has fully recovered from the break-up between him and Elrohir. He will not so easily relinquish his heart this time round."

Erestor turned to look at Glorfindel. "I think you may be right. However, he will need to decide soon whether he wants to have a relationship with Haldir or not; Galadriel returns to Lothlórien next week, and Haldir will be returning with her."

They made their way back to their rooms, where they proceeded to change into something more casual. Glorfindel, as was his wont, had stripped himself completely before reaching for the comfortable suede leggings he often wore when relaxing.

"Stop." Erestor's voice was rough with longing as he walked to Glorfindel, only to kneel at the seneschal's feet.

"See something you like?" Glorfindel couldn't resist asking the question, and he could feel his member hardening under the ardent gaze of the darkling elf.

Erestor's smouldering gaze met that of his mate's. "A silly question, melethen," he replied, licking his lips as Glorfindel's erection grew under his gaze. The darkling elf's hand curled around the turgid flesh and stroked it. Pre-come began leaking from the tip, and Erestor licked it off, moaning in appreciation at the taste that was so uniquely his mate's. His tongue swirled around the tip, and Erestor could feel Glorfindel shudder. The advisor took his mate's erection in his mouth, applying himself with enthusiasm to bring his mate over the edge.

Glorfindel began to move, thrusting gently into the warm cavern of the darkling elf's mouth. "Do you know what you do to me?" he whispered, though the seneschal knew the question to be superfluous. His mate knew exactly what he was doing, and Glorfindel allowed himself to sink into the pleasure that was being given him. It did not take long before he shot his essence down Erestor's throat, groaning as the darkling elf continued to suck and lick until he had swallowed every possible drop. When Erestor raised his eyes, it was to the sight of Glorfindel looking more than sated.

Blue eyes met brown, and Glorfindel said huskily, "The bed, melethen. I want you inside of me."

Erestor blinked. "Are you sure?" he asked, rising to his feet.

"More than sure, melethen."

"But I have never…"

"Shh…I have always wanted this, from the moment we started courting."

Swallowing, Erestor could only stare at Glorfindel. "All right," he finally whispered. "Do we have enough oil?"

Glorfindel smiled. "More than enough, melethen."

"And you will let me know if I am hurting you, will you not?"

"You will not hurt me, Erestor."

Erestor returned Glorfindel's smile. "Then let us retire to the bed, shall we?"

************************

Elvish translations: melethen - my love

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Title: Married to an Elf Part 16/25

Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)

Type: FPS

Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Lothvaen/Haldir

Rating: PG

Warnings: None

Beta: Aglarien

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.

Feedback: Yes please…

Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask

Word count: 644

Summary/Notes: Haldir receives a shock. The prompts used were 13 Oct 2006 - 'jinx'; 2 Oct 2007 - 'missive'; 3 Oct 2007 - 'map'; 11 Oct 2007 - 'library'

************************

Haldir stared at the missive in his hand. The Marchwarden was due to leave in a week's time with Galadriel, but since his less than pleasant parting from Lothvaen the day before the binding ceremony, there had been no contact between the two elves - until now.

Looking at the missive once again, Haldir wondered if he should reply. The moment he had seen Lothvaen, he had wanted the scribe, seeing in him a kindred spirit. Moreover, after their first night together, Haldir had realised that Lothvaen had touched his soul. The Marchwarden had begun to wonder if this little scribe was the one meant for him, the one who would be at his side until the ending of time.

But Lothvaen obviously did not feel the same way and Haldir felt that, somehow, his heart had fractured, which was the reason for his reticence in replying. Placing the missive on the bed Haldir stood up, deciding he needed a walk to clear his head and help him decide. Yet he stopped and took another glance at the parchment lying on the bed. No, no walk was needed. He would meet up with Lothvaen in the library, as the scribe had requested.

Quickly striding down the corridor that led to the library, Haldir began replaying once more their last meeting. All led to the one thing: had he been too swift in declaring that he cared for Lothvaen? Had he somehow frightened the younger elf with his declaration? It made Haldir realise that, perhaps, this upcoming meeting between the two of them was overdue. He had been aware of Lothvaen's eyes upon him every time he came within seeing distance of the scribe, yet neither had made the move to approach the other.

Reaching the door of the library, Haldir took a deep breath before opening it carefully. Lothvaen was already there, staring at what appeared to be a map on one of the tables, though Haldir suspected that the scribe was not actually seeing anything at all.

Entering the room, Haldir quietly closed the door. Then, in order not to startle Lothvaen, Haldir called his name softly. Yet, despite the Marchwarden's care, Lothvaen still jumped, and looked almost guiltily up from the table.

A smile of relief then appeared on Lothvaen's face. "You came," he said, starting to walk towards Haldir, only to stop uncertainly in the middle of the room.

"Yes, pen-velui, I did," Haldir responded gently. This was the first time the Marchwarden had truly looked at Lothvaen in over two weeks, and what he saw disturbed him. The scribe had appeared to have lost weight, his eyes seemingly over-large in the pale face, while his hair hung limply down Lothvaen's back, having lost its lustre. "You are ill," he said without preamble, moving towards the scribe and taking him in his arms. "I am taking you to see Lord Elrond. Why has no one else seen how ill you look?"

"Because I am not ill as such, Haldir, though others have noticed, including Lord Elrond. He says that I suffer from 'love-sickness'. Is there such a thing, Haldir? For if this is what it truly is, I no longer wish to suffer from it, and Lord Elrond says only I can find the cure." Lothvaen laid his head on the stunned Marchwarden's shoulder. "But I am scared, Haldir. I thought my heart broken after Elrohir decided to end our relationship; however, this feels worse. I never realised how much you had laid claim to me. It feels as if I belong to you. Do I, Haldir?"

Haldir was at a loss for words. He tightened his hold on Lothvaen, noting how fragile the younger elf felt in his arms. Finally, he managed to speak. "Yes, pen-velui, I do believe you belong to me as much as I belong to you."

************************

Elvish translations: pen-velui - lovely one

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Title: Married to an Elf Part 17/25

Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)

Type: FPS

Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Elladan, Elrohir

Rating: PG

Warnings: None

Beta: Aglarien

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.

Feedback: Yes please…

Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask

Word count: 602

Summary/Notes: The twins finally try and sort things out. The prompts used were 7 Oct 2006 - 'violent'; 1 Sep 2007 - 'power'

************************

"This can not continue, Elrohir!" Elladan's movements were almost violent as he strode agitatedly throughout the room. "I verily believe I am going insane from all of this."

"Then what you suggest we do?" Elrohir asked, though he appeared to be unmoved by Elladan's declaration, instead eyeing his brother with seeming disinterest. Yet within himself he was concerned for his twin. The longer the two of them tried avoiding the situation, the more it ate away at them, and it looked as if it was affecting Elladan more.

"I want you, here, now," Elladan ground out, and watched with stormy eyes as his brother nearly fell out of his chair.

"What?!" Elrohir spluttered.

"I do believe my brother is alive, after all," Elladan drawled. "Nothing else I have said appeared to make any impact on you."

"Why you…"

"What? What am I, Elrohir? Brother? Or lover, soul-mate? Let us not try and hide anymore from this, Elrohir. I am tired of hiding; I am tired of trying to ignore what my heart has been saying; I am tired of looking upon you as my brother. I am tired of denying that only *you* can complete me. Or, so may the Valar help me, I shall run myself through with my sword to try and get away from all this pain!"

Elrohir stared at his brother in shock. "Has it truly been that bad?" he whispered.

Elladan rubbed his hand tiredly over his face. "Aye." He sat down on a nearby chair, no longer trusting his legs to keep him upright. "For so long I fought against the idea that it was my own brother who could be my soul-mate, the one who would make me whole, that there were times when I feared I was teetering on the brink of madness. It is only now I have realised that I can no longer see you as my brother, though we have grown up as such for millennia." Elladan looked gravely at Elrohir. "So, Elrohir, what do suggest we do?"

"Do?" Elrohir's eyes moved away from the intensity of Elladan's gaze. "I do not know," he admitted.

"Mayhap we should go to my room - or yours, if you prefer - and take things from there." Elladan's voice was measured now, in total opposition to what it had been before.

"This seems…sudden."

Elladan gave a bark of laughter. "Sudden? This, Elrohir, has been inexorably creeping up on us. How can it be sudden?" Seeing that Elrohir was still unsure, Elladan leaned forward in his chair. "I will do all in my power to make this easy for both of us…melethron." Elladan's use of the endearment was deliberate, and Elrohir's gaze was that of a startled deer.

"Do you truly wish this?" Elrohir asked, annoyed at himself for the quaver in his voice.

"Would I be suggesting it if I did not?" Elladan leaned back in his chair. "Grandmother said that you were willing to listen and understand, yet you baulk. I thought you would have welcomed my speaking out, telling you of what I feel…and welcomed the idea of us coming together as lovers."

"It is because of your feelings that I baulk! I had no idea that you felt like this. You said nothing to me before!"

"I said nothing to you before because you were not ready to hear it, Elrohir! You may have overheard Grandmother's words all those years before, but that did not mean you were going to act and take me to your bed."

Elrohir remained silent for a moment, and then said quietly, "Let us go to my room."

************************

Elvish translations: melethron - male lover

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Title: Married to an Elf Part 18/25

Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)

Type: FPS

Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel

Rating: NC17

Warnings: Sex again…

Beta: Aglarien

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.

Feedback: Yes please…

Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask

Word count: 624

Summary/Notes: Erestor and Glorfindel haven't quite finished… The prompts used were 10 July 2007 - 'channel'; 12 July 2007 - 'soak'; 19 July 2007 - 'victory'; 28 July 2007 - 'shallow'; 28 Sep 2007 - 'triumph'

************************

Erestor lay with his head on Glorfindel's shoulder, a smile of triumph on his face. Never had he thought how incredible it would feel to make love to Glorfindel the way he had. Even though he now very much enjoyed being on the receiving end, being the sword to his mate's sheath was a new experience indeed.

"Happy?" Glorfindel asked softly.

"Very. And you?"

"More than you can possibly believe, ervainen vorn," the seneschal said warmly. "In fact, I would have no objections if there was a repeat performance."

Erestor raised his head. "What, now?"

Glorfindel's lips curved into a smile. "Why not now?" he responded huskily, reaching down to caress Erestor's member.

The darkling elf stifled a moan, his eyes half-closed as, under his mate's skillful fingers, his member once more sprang to life. "Are you not sore?" Erestor whispered.

The golden-haired warrior brought Erestor down and kissed him thoroughly. "No," he murmured as they broke apart. "If anything, I am more than ready for you. You need not prepare me this time, melethen; my opening is still loose. You will just need a little oil for yourself."

Erestor did not need a further invitation. Reaching for the oil, he coated his member hurriedly, and this time did moan as Glorfindel drew his knees to his chest, exposing his opening. The darkling elf positioned himself, breaching the loosened guardian ring and sliding in effortlessly, the channel still slick with oil and seed from previously.

"You fit perfectly, melethen," Glorfindel said as Erestor began to move. Soon nothing could be heard except for the slapping of flesh upon flesh as the darkling elf let himself go, relishing in the freedom - nay, the victory - of loving and being loved in return by one who was now so much a part of his psyche that he doubted that either of them would be able to determine where each of them began or finished.

"Come for me," Erestor ground out, and Glorfindel reached for his own leaking erection, stroking it almost brutally to bring himself over the edge, his seed spurting over his stomach and chest. Erestor gave an almost animalistic scream as he emptied himself, his body trembling at the force of his orgasm. Exhausted, his breathing shallow, he fell on top of Glorfindel, aftershocks still coursing through him.

Dropping his legs either side, Glorfindel held his mate, feeling the trembling slowly dissipate. When Erestor took him for the first time only an hour ago it was incredible; this time it was even more so, and Glorfindel now wished he had suggested reversing rolls a lot earlier. Stroking the darkling elf's sweat-soaked hair, he heard Erestor give a little sigh.

"We need a bath," Erestor said.

Glorfindel smiled. "We do indeed, melethen. I think a nice, long soak would do us both some good."

"Though one never knows what could happen while we are having the bath."

Glorfindel's eyes widened. "Surely you can not mean…?"

Erestor raised his head, an impish grin on his face. "Forgive me for teasing you, maethoren vain. I do not think I could do much more except sleep after our…exertions."

"Then, ervainen vorn," Glorfindel said, giving Erestor's rump a small slap, "we had best get up now; otherwise both of us will fall asleep."

Erestor rolled aside and allowed his mate to get up, enjoying the view as a naked Glorfindel went into their bathing chamber. The sound of running water was soon heard, and Erestor stretched in much the same way as his cat, Aranel, did, including the almost jaw-breaking yawn.

"So much for our swim," Erestor said as Glorfindel returned to gather their robes.

"Another time, mayhap."

"Mayhap," Erestor responded, a wicked gleam once more appearing in his eyes.

************************

Elvish translations: ervainen vorn - my dark beautiful one

maethoren vain - my beautiful warrior

melethen - my love

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Title: Married to an Elf Part 19/25

Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)

Type: FPS

Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Elladan, Elrohir

Rating: R

Warnings: Naked elves ahead…

Beta: Aglarien

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.

Feedback: Yes please…

Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask

Word count: 935

Summary/Notes: Things start heating up between the twins. The prompts used were 30 June 2007 - 'clasp'; 1 Sep 2006 - 'war'; 7 Oct 2006 - 'epic'; 19 Aug 2007 - 'quarter'; 9 Sep 2007 - 'register'

************************

Both elves stood in the middle of the room, uncertain as how to proceed further. Despite his earlier words, the last thing Elladan wanted was to frighten Elrohir even more. It was plain by the trepidation in the slightly younger elf's eyes that he was uncomfortable.

"Elrohir?" Elladan said softly, but his voice did not appear to register, the younger Peredhel seemingly staring at some obscure spot in the distance. "Elrohir!"

"I heard you the first time."

Elladan bit back the retort on the tip of his tongue, opting instead to take a deep breath. "How do you wish to proceed?" he asked, a little surprised as to how steady his voice sounded.

"Whatever you think." Elrohir's reply was apathetic at best, and Elladan once more found himself stifling his irritation.

"You do not wish to do this," the eldest Peredhel said flatly.

Elrohir sighed. "It is not that I do not wish to, it is just…"

"Just what?"

"You…you frighten me, a little." Elrohir's voice was so quiet that Elladan thought he had misheard.

"I *frighten* you?" Elladan asked incredulously.

Elrohir nodded. "You seem so…intense with your feelings that I am afraid I will be constantly waging some sort of war so that I do not drown under the weight of them."

"You think I would hurt you?" Elladan ask.

"No. But I have seen you fight, Elladan. I have seen you so caught up in your emotions that I sometimes fear for you."

Elladan made to clasp his brother's hand, only to stop. "I wonder," he began slowly, "if you are afraid of your feelings for me."

Elrohir's gaze was wary. "I do not know what you mean," he said carefully.

"I think you do." This time Elladan did take his brother's hand. With his other, he gently stroked his brother's cheek. "You desire this, Elrohir. I feel you trembling, but it is not from fear." Elladan's voice had taken on an almost hypnotic quality, and Elrohir felt himself swaying even closer to the other elf. "You speak of a war of emotions, Elrohir, but you would not drown. You are too good a fighter…melethron, and a more than worthy opponent. We may end up waging epic battles but, in the end, we both shall be the victors."

Elrohir remained silent, absorbing what Elladan was saying. The words 'we both shall be victors' kept repeating themselves in his mind, faster and faster until they were virtually indistinguishable. Was there truth in Elladan's words? Elrohir was not so sure, yet felt himself drawn to them, nevertheless. But Elladan was right: he did want this; wanted it with an intensity that threatened to rob him of his breath. He knew the next step was up to him. Part of him wanted to run, but part of him wanted to give in to his need, his want. He felt, to his surprise, that he wanted to devour. And it was that feeling that finally helped him to make his choice.

"Yes…" Elrohir whispered before taking the final plunge and kissing Elladan for the first time as a lover. His fingers reached up and tangled themselves in Elladan's mane, drawing the other elf closer still as his tongue demanded entrance into Elladan's mouth. Elrohir pressed his body flush against Elladan's, feeling his brother's - nay, lover's - obvious erection under the clothing, and knowing that Elladan felt his. He did not allow Elladan to break way, instead intensifying the kiss, letting Elladan know that he was more than ready for what was to come.

Elrohir began pushing his lover towards the bed, still kissing him. Only when the back of Elladan's knees hit the side did Elrohir finally break off the kiss and push the other elf onto the bed. Elladan stared at Elrohir, stunned by his brother's onslaught.

"You are right," Elrohir said as he started removing his tunic. "I do want this." The younger elf's eyes were stormy, his teeth bared as he dragged the tunic over his head and dropped it heedlessly on the floor. "And I promise you, *melethron*, that I shall give you no quarter."

Elladan could only watch helplessly as Elrohir stripped off the rest of his clothing, and his gaze travelled to Elrohir's proudly standing erection. He had seen his brother naked before, but not like this, and Elladan knew they had both reached the point of no return. After this, they would no longer be the same elves that they once were. He drew in a deep breath, inhaling Elrohir's musky scent, before leaning forward and taking his brother's erection in his mouth.

"Valar, yes!" Elrohir ground out, staring down at the dark head of Elladan sucking and licking his erection. Then he pulled out, and Elladan looked up at Elrohir, his lips wet and slightly swollen.

"Did you not like what I was doing?" Elladan asked quietly.

"I liked it all too well," Elrohir said, "but I do not want to come in your mouth." He stepped back a few paces. "Strip," he ordered, and watched intensely as Elladan began removing his clothing. Once he was naked, Elladan instinctively lay back on the bed. He had not anticipated Elrohir taking the initiative, and found that he more than liked the idea. He had never given himself to others, preferring to be the one on top. But here, now, Elladan found himself wanting to be taken…to be possessed.

The elder Peredhel's lips curved into a smile. "What are you smiling about?" Elrohir asked curiously.

Elladan turned his lust-darkened gaze at the other elf. "I want to drown," he said simply.

************************

Elvish translations: melethron - male lover

Peredhel - half elf

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Title: Married to an Elf Part 20/25

Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)

Type: FPS

Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Lindir/Legolas, Elrond, Thranduil

Rating: PG

Warnings: None

Beta: Aglarien

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.

Feedback: Yes please…

Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask

Word count: 491

Summary/Notes: Elrond confesses to Thranduil. The prompts used were 13 Sep 2007 - 'punch'

************************

Thranduil sipped the miruvor, a thoughtful expression on his face. Despite the binding between Erestor and Glorfindel, and now the betrothal between his son and Lindir, there was an air of underlying tension in Imladris. His gaze travelled to Elrond, who was sipping his own miruvor, seemingly unperturbed, though the shadow in his eyes said otherwise. "Do you wish to speak of it?" he finally asked.

Elrond smiled a little ruefully. "You have sensed that things are not quite…normal," he stated.

"That, mellonen, would depend on one's definition of normal," Thranduil responded dryly, eliciting a more genuine smile from the other elf.

"Trust me, Thranduil, this situation is not normal in any sense of the word," Elrond said soberly.

The king was intrigued. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Elrond looked at Thranduil, wondering whether he should tell him about the twins or not. Finally, he said, "My sons are soul-mates."

If Elrond had thrown a punch at him, Thranduil would not have been more surprised. "Soul-mates?" he echoed disbelievingly.

"Aye. Their souls are two halves of one; for so long they have been brothers that they find it difficult to realise that they are destined to be more than just that."

Thranduil took a long gulp of the miruvor, trying to take in what Elrond had just told him. "Where are they now?" he finally asked.

Elrond shook his head. "I do not know. Neither of them has been seen since yesterday."

The king pondered this for a moment. "How do you feel?"

Elrond gave a slight shrug. "It matters not what I feel, mellonen. I have known of the destiny of my sons, as has Galadriel, for more years than I care to remember. What matters is how to try and help them deal with this."

"And I thought my son's sudden betrothal was startling news," Thranduil said, shaking his head.

"There are those in Mirkwood who will not like his choice," Elrond warned.

"I know," Thranduil admitted. "Not to mention the wrong sex. However, I have always known of Legolas' preference for ellyn, and for me it is more important that my son be happy. While the news of his betrothal did surprise me, I am more than pleased. Lindir is the perfect choice for him. But you have my word that I will protect Lindir from those who seek to try and discredit him and make him feel unwelcome. Not to mention they would have to answer to Legolas as well, for he is more than protective of those he loves."

"Considering who his father is, that does not surprise me," Elrond said, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes, and Thranduil chuckled. The two elves then sat in silence, temporarily lost in their own thoughts.

"What of your sons?" the king finally asked.

"I can do no more except be there for them, should they need me. The rest, I am afraid, is up to them."

************************

Elvish translations: ellyn - male elves

mellonen - my friend

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Title: Married to an Elf Part 21/25

Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)

Type: FPS

Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Elladan/Elrohir

Rating: PG

Warnings: None

Beta: Aglarien

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.

Feedback: Yes please…

Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask

Word count: 786

Summary/Notes: The twins go and see their father. The prompts used were 1 Jul 2006 - 'threesome'; 23 Sep 2007 - 'concentrate'; 29 Sep 2007 - 'prompt'; 14 Oct 2007 - 'bridge'

************************

"Has anyone seen either of my sons?"

Elrond's question was met with shakes of the head from a number of elves, leaving the elf-lord wondering anew where Elladan or Elrohir could be. He sensed that *something* had happened - the tension, the need to tread carefully seemed to have disappeared. And earlier that morning he had seen Galadriel walking in the garden with a more than contented smile on her face, and hope blossomed cautiously in Elrond's heart that finally his sons had accepted their new roles and were stepping forward united into their future.

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Elrond contemplated the day ahead of him. He and Erestor had gone through the revised treaty negotiation the previous day, though not without the advisor adding his usual acerbic comments. After a particular stinging attack on a section of the treaty, Elrond merely said 'welcome back', leaving Erestor more than a little perplexed by what he saw as a rather odd comment.

Looking down the table, he noticed that Thranduil, Legolas and Lindir were sitting together, talking amongst themselves. Elrond was not surprised. The king had taken every step possible to assure Lindir that he could not be more pleased with his son's choice, and was looking forward to welcoming him to Mirkwood when the time came for Legolas to return, bringing his future mate with him. And Thranduil had extolled the musical virtues of Lindir, wasting no time in laughingly informing Elrond that it would be Imladris' loss and Mirkwood's gain when the minstrel made his home in Taur-na-Fuin. Elrond bore Thranduil's jesting with equanimity; nevertheless, he knew that Lindir would be sorely missed by the residents of the Last Homely House.

However, none of that answered the question as to where his sons were. Getting up from his chair, he began making his way out of the dining hall to his study. Whether he liked it or not, he had to deal with the revised treaty, and knew he needed to concentrate on making sure that all parties were appeased.

"Elrond." Erestor's voice was quiet, but there was an underlying sense of urgency.

"What is it?"

"Elladan and Elrohir are in your study."

Elrond's eyes widened slightly. "How do they appear to you?" he asked carefully.

Erestor gave a brief smile. "I think you will find they are at peace," he said softly. "Now go; they are waiting for you."

Elrond did not need to be told twice, but hurried down the corridor. When he reached his study, he paused momentarily, hearing the murmur of voices on the other side. He took a steadying breath before opening the door and stepping inside.

"You came quickly; Erestor was more than prompt in finding you, it seems." Elladan's voice held a note of laughter, and Elrond almost sighed in relief in hearing the welcome sound. It had been too long since he had seen a smile gracing the face of either his sons, or heard their laughter.

"I take it all is well?" he asked hopefully.

Elladan and Elrohir shared a look. "We have resolved our differences, and are more comfortable with our destiny," Elrohir replied, his smile gentle.

"May one enquire…?" Elrond tentatively began, before it dawned on him what exactly it was that had eventuated between his sons. For a moment, he was shocked. He had not anticipated that they would act in such a fashion so quickly. Then he realised that it was probably the *only* action his sons could have taken - it was either all or nothing. In the end, there was only one thing he could say: "I am glad that all has worked out well."

"So are we, Adar," Elladan said quietly. The three elves stood for a moment, silently contemplating each other. Then Elrohir spoke.

"I understand Thranduil has arrived to attend Legolas' betrothal ceremony with Lindir."

"He has," Elrond confirmed. "He is currently with Legolas and Lindir as we speak."

There was a mischievous gleam in Elrohir's eyes as he turned to Elladan. "He is more than comely, is he not?" he said. Elrond's eyes widened at his son's words.

"Aye, he is indeed," Elladan replied, lips curving into a smile. "I wonder if he would agree to a threesome?"

Elrond's eyes widened in disbelief as he watched his sons walked out of his study, their conversation purely about the merits and attributes of the Mirkwood king. Then his face broadened into a smile. Not only was his quick-witted and sharp-tongued advisor back but so, it seems, were his sons. They may have now become lovers, but their wit and mischievousness had not left them, and Elrond began tackling his work in a much lighter frame of mind.

************************

Elvish translations: Adar - father

Peredhel - half elf

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Title: Married to an Elf Part 22/25

Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)

Type: FPS

Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Lothvaen/Haldir

Rating: PG

Warnings: None

Beta: Aglarien

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.

Feedback: Yes please…

Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask

Word count: 792

Summary/Notes: Haldir asks something of Lothvaen, and the scribe needs to make a decision. The prompts used were 25 Oct 2006 - 'nap'; 3 Sep 2007 - 'scroll'; 26 Sep 2007 - 'blade'

************************

Lothvaen watched as Haldir carefully honed his blade, readying it for his return to Lothlórien. "I will miss you," the scribe said quietly, and the Marchwarden raised his head.

"Come with me," Haldir said simply, laying the blade down on the bed. "Come with me," he repeated. "Let me show you Lothlórien; let me show you that what we have is more than a simple relationship between two elves - that we are more than just lovers."

Lothvaen looked at him. "You sense it too," he whispered.

Haldir nodded. "I do. Did I not say that you belong to me just as I belong to you? You have my heart, pen-velui…and I think you know I have yours. I can only ask again: come with me. Share my life in Lothlórien. I know Celeborn is looking for a scribe, so you would not be without anything to do. Come," Haldir pleaded. "Just these last two weeks have shown me that I no longer wish to be alone, and I do not think you want to be, either. Come."

The scribe stared down at the floor. Since his realisation of what Haldir meant to him, he had also become aware of the distance that would separate the two of them when the Marchwarden returned to his home. Now that Haldir was suggesting that he go with him, Lothvaen was more than sorely tempted. But he was not sure what the reception would be if he suddenly showed up in Lothlórien.

"Pen-velui?"

Lothvaen raised his eyes. "Can I think about it?" he asked softly. "I know you are leaving tomorrow, but your asking me has taken me by surprise."

"You worry about what some will think when their Marchwarden returns with a little scribe in his arms," Haldir said, though his words were tempered with a smile.

"I am not little!" Lothvaen said indignantly. "I am nearly as tall as you!"

Haldir chuckled. "You may be nearly as tall as I, pen-velui, but it will be obvious to others that you are no warrior. They will call you little, whether you like it or not."

"Is that why you are calling me thus, so I get used to it?" Lothvaen's voice was a little peevish.

"Mayhap." Haldir watched as various emotions flitted over the scribe's face before it settled on one of resignation. "However," the Marchwarden continued, "I will let them know that you are *my* little scribe. You have no idea how tempting and delectable you are pen-velui." To prove his point, Haldir captured Lothvaen's lips in a kiss that left the scribe in no doubt that Haldir believed what he said to be true.

"Still," Lothvaen said a little breathlessly when they finished kissing, "still, I would like to think about it."

"Very well," Haldir conceded. "But you must let me know tonight, for when we leave, it will be as soon as we have broken our fast." The Marchwarden looked at Lothvaen steadily. "If it will help make your decision any easier, pen-velui, I would ask if you would bind with me. I know," he said quickly, seeing Lothvaen open his mouth, "that this is more than sudden, that we barely know each other, but I do not want to lose you, nor can I bear the thought of you being here while I am in Lothlórien."

Lothvaen swallowed. "If anything, you have made my decision more difficult, Haldir. It is too soon to be thinking about binding ourselves. I want to be with you, yes, but I also want to get to know you a little more. You are right in that you say you have my heart but, please, do not rush me."

Haldir gave a small smile. "Forgive me, pen-velui. I did not mean to make things difficult. I just want you with me. Will you at least think about coming to Lothlórien?"

Lothvaen nodded. "I will, and I will give you my answer tonight." He gave Haldir a quick kiss. "I must go; I promised Erestor that I would find a scroll in the library for him." Lothvaen started to make his way out the room, and then turned to face Haldir again. "I am free this afternoon if you would care to join me in a little nap," he said, a little shyly.

Haldir's eyebrows rose. "A nap?" he asked, bemused. "I am no doddering old human, *little* scribe, who requires a nap. However, I can think of much better things to while away the afternoon, should you be agreeable." The glint in Haldir's eyes left Lothvaen in no doubt what the Marchwarden really meant, and the scribe flushed slightly.

"Shall I meet you back here?" Lothvaen asked.

Haldir smiled. "I think that an excellent idea, pen-velui."

************************

Elvish translations: pen-velui - lovely one

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Title: Married to an Elf Part 23/25

Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)

Type: FPS

Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Lothvaen/Haldir, Lindir/Legolas, Thranduil

Rating: PG

Warnings: None

Beta: Aglarien

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.

Feedback: Yes please…

Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask

Word count: 689

Summary/Notes: Erestor is a little annoyed, and Lothvaen is told off. The prompts used were 31 July 2007 - 'calculating'; 4 Sep 2007 - 'age'; 15 Oct 2007 - 'yelp'

************************

Erestor laid the scroll on the table. It had taken him an age, but he had finally found what he was looking for, no thanks to Lothvaen. The advisor wondered - not for the first time - where the scribe had disappeared to, then sighed. There was no question in his mind *who* Lothvaen was with, of course. It was quite obvious from the previous night that whatever differences there had been between the Marchwarden and Lothvaen were now more than resolved. The two were openly affectionate; Lothvaen more so than Haldir, leaving others in no doubt that it seemed the scribe had finally found his soul-mate. Erestor only hoped that the scribe was ready to deal with Haldir's departure when he left on the morrow to return to Lothlórien with Galadriel.

The door opened suddenly, admitting the very elf Erestor was thinking about. "I am sorry, Erestor! I shall go to the library and look for that scroll for you straight away." Lothvaen was slightly breathless, as if he had been running. Then his eyes lit upon the table. "Oh," Lothvaen said in a small voice. "You have already found it."

"Aye, Lothvaen, I have," Erestor said a little sternly. "I take it you have a good excuse as to why I had to spend my time looking for it instead of writing the expenditure report?"

"Because you dislike writing the expenditure report?" Lothvaen asked innocently.

Erestor opened his mouth and then shut it again. As silly as Lothvaen's answer was, it was also true. Erestor *did* dislike doing the expenditure report; more often than not it took him a number of attempts before everything added up. "That is beside the point, Lothvaen," the advisor said. "I had specifically asked you to search for this scroll and have it on my desk."

"I know," Lothvaen said shamefacedly. "I am sorry."

Erestor relented. "Very well, let us say no more on the subject. However, you can help me write the report. You are much quicker at figures than I; mayhap you can deal with that while I do the report proper."

"Of course!" Lothvaen smiled happily. "I do not mind adding figures."

"Good," Erestor said crisply. "Then I suggest you make a start. I want to get this report to Elrond before we have our midday meal." The advisor watched as Lothvaen quickly gathered the relevant parchments and made his way to the table. Erestor, meanwhile, sat down behind his desk and took the quill in his hand.

"Haldir asked me to go with him to Lothlórien."

Erestor laid the quill back down on the table. "As in tomorrow?" he asked, surprised.

Lothvaen nodded. "I asked him if I could think about it, but I only have until tonight to give him my answer. What do you think I should do?" the scribe appealed.

"I think you should make up your own mind and not ask others to do it for you." Lothvaen gave a small yelp, and both he and Erestor turned to face the elf who had uttered the words. Thranduil gave Lothvaen an admonishing look before turning his gaze to Erestor. "A moment of your time please, Erestor. There are some things I wish to ask you with regards to the betrothal ceremony."

"Of course," Erestor said smoothly, rising up from his chair. Turning to Lothvaen, he smiled. "Follow your heart, Lothvaen. Trust what *it* tells you. Now, if you could continue calculating those figures for me and then leave them on my desk, I will include them in my report."

"Yes, Erestor," Lothvaen stammered, his gaze still fixed upon the Mirkwood king.

Erestor followed Thranduil out of the room. "Thank you," he said wryly, and Thranduil smiled.

"I take it this is not the first time Lothvaen has asked you what he should do."

"No, it is not." Erestor fell into step with Thranduil. "Now, what was it you wanted to ask me?"

"Nothing," Thranduil admitted. "Everything is under control, thanks to Elrond and yourself."

"Then why did you…?"

Thranduil gave a slight shrug and smiled. "Well, someone had to rescue you, did they not?"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Title: Married to an Elf Part 24/25

Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)

Type: FPS

Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Lothvaen/Haldir, Lindir/Legolas

Rating: PG

Warnings: None

Beta: Aglarien

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.

Feedback: Yes please…

Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask

Word count: 980

Summary/Notes: Galadriel surprises Elrond. The prompts used were 30 July 2007 - 'beckon'; 27 Oct 2006 - 'star'

************************

The betrothal ceremony between Lindir and Legolas had proved to be an exuberant affair, with the celebration going well into the early hours of the morning. Elrond yawned as he went out into the courtyard to farewell Galadriel and her escort. He knew that he was not the only elf in Imladris to be suffering from the after-affects, and hoped that he still had enough powders and herbs for those who had over-indulged. They had been depleted considerably courtesy of the celebration after Erestor and Glorfindel's binding, and Elrond had not had the chance to restock.

His eyes lit upon Lothvaen standing next to Haldir. When the scribe had approached him with his request to accompany the Marchwarden back to Lothlórien, Elrond had not known what to reply at first. The request was sudden, to say the least, but in the end the elf-lord could not find it in his heart to refuse. Lothvaen's smile at Elrond's agreement had been brighter than any star, and he nearly tripped over his robe in his haste to leave the room. The elf-lord shook his head at the memory, and then winced slightly. Shaking his head, at least for now, was not a good idea.

Seeing Galadriel beckon him, Elrond walked towards her. "I trust you are well rested?" she asked, her eyes dancing with merriment, knowing full well that Elrond had celebrated as much as the next elf.

Elrond smiled ruefully. "I know I indulged a little last night," he said honestly. "But it has been an age since we have had such celebrations."

Galadriel smiled. "Lindir appears to be meek and mild, but he is not. You need not worry about him, for he will hold his own. And, when the time comes, he will show that he is a great source of strength," she said enigmatically. Elrond looked at her, inwardly sighing. True, her foresight was greater than his, but it was frustrating nevertheless when she made comments such as these, leaving those around her wondering what she meant.

"Lothvaen is a surprise, I must admit," the lady of the Golden Wood continued. "I would not have expected Haldir to find his soul-mate here in Imladris. But then," she said, her gaze twinkling, "there are some things that even I do not know. Yet life should still hold some surprises, should it not?"

"Indeed," Elrond replied. "'Tis just for some that surprises come more often." Galadriel laughed, a light, carefree sound that had all the elves in the courtyard looking at her. Then her smile became enigmatic once more.

"Your sons have taken that final step." Her remark was short, but to the point.

"They have."

"Then all is well," Galadriel said with some satisfaction.

"Aye." Elrond watched as Haldir helped Lothvaen to mount his horse before the Marchwarden mounted his. "I am relieved, more than anything. While on the one hand I had not anticipated them taking that step so soon, on the other there really could not have been any other way."

"Elladan and Elrohir do not waste time, that is true," Galadriel conceded. "But they do come after their parents in that respect."

Elrond stopped short and then smiled. What Galadriel said was true. When he had first met Celebrían, he had made his interest in her known from the very beginning, taking every opportunity to spend as much time as he could with her, especially alone. Mind you, it had helped that she had been of the same mind as him, and it had not taken long for the two of them to progress further than what common dictates had allowed. Elrond, in the end, had plucked up the courage to approach Galadriel and Celeborn to ask for the hand of their daughter in marriage a mere five weeks after meeting her, so sure was he that Celebrían was meant for him. Her parents had given their approval with no hesitation, Elrond recalled.

"Except neither mother nor experienced the anxieties our sons have gone through," Elrond said finally.

"Your sons' situation is unique," Galadriel said. "However, there were many who objected to our daughter marrying one who was a Peredhel. But Celeborn and I knew your true worth, knew who you would become. You were not Gil-galad's Herald by accident, Elrond. He recognised your potential, saw your shrewd political mind, not to mention your loyalty and your desire to protect. We could not have asked for a better son-in-law and Celebrían a better mate."

Elrond felt a little embarrassed, and knew it showed, for Galadriel gave a gentle smile. "You flatter me too much," he murmured. "Yet I was unable to help Celebrían when she needed me most."

"It was meant to happen, Elrond." Galadriel's voice was heavy. "Even I was not fully cognizant. As much as we feel guilt over what happened, we would not have been able to have done anything."

Elrond looked at her in surprise. "You feel guilt?" he asked.

"I did, Elrond. I felt guilt because I was not able to protect my daughter, just as you felt guilt because you were unable to heal her." They were standing next to Galadriel's horse, and Elrond helped the Lady of the Golden Wood to mount. "Farewell, Elrond," Galadriel said. "You need not fear for Lothvaen; he will be more than safe with Haldir." Both she and Elrond looked at the two elves in question, and they both smiled when they saw Haldir and Lothvaen sharing a loving look between them.

"I am sorry to lose Lothvaen. However, I am sure Saelbeth will fill his shoes comfortably enough, providing Erestor is prepared to be a little patient," Elrond remarked.

Galadriel smiled. "That might be a difficult task; your advisor has returned to his usual self, I hear."

Elrond chuckled. "He has indeed and I, for one, am most glad to see him back."

************************

Elvish translations: Peredhel - half elf

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Title: Married to an Elf Part 25/25

Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)

Type: FPS

Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Legolas/Lindir, Elladan/Elrohir, Lothvaen/Haldir

Rating: PG

Warnings: None

Beta: Aglarien

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.

Feedback: Yes please…

Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask

Word count: 1,077

Summary/Notes: Thranduil leaves, along with Legolas and Lindir. The prompts used were 30 Aug 2006 - 'meander'; 8 June 2007 - 'stunt'; 10 Aug 2007 - 'balance'; 13 Oct 2007 - 'verdant'

************************

It was a week later when Elrond found himself once more in the courtyard, this time bidding farewell to Thranduil and his party, which also included Legolas and Lindir. The elf-lord smiled inwardly as he watched the minstrel balance precariously on his horse, for it was obvious that Lindir had not spent much time riding and was therefore feeling unsure.

"What happens if he just starts to meander?" Lindir asked Legolas worriedly.

"He will not meander, Lindir, for I will be holding onto his reins," Legolas replied patiently, reaching out with his hand to smooth away the line of worry on the minstrel's forehead.

"Oh," was all that Lindir replied, before leaning into the caress as Legolas' hand cupped his cheek.

Thranduil cleared his throat. "Enough, otherwise we will never begin our journey home."

"Sorry, Adar," Legolas said, though it was plain by his voice that he was not apologetic in the slightest, while Lindir merely blushed and bowed his head, embarrassed.

Thranduil shook his head ruefully, and then smiled. His gaze then turned to Elladan and Elrohir, standing closely together, and he wondered anew how it could be that the twins were actually the two halves of one soul, and that by only becoming lovers could that soul be joined. But sometimes there were things that just were not able to be explained, and Thranduil suspected this was one of them.

Looking around him, the king took in his verdant surroundings, feeling a little melancholy. It had been such a long time since his home had shown such greenness, and he hoped that the day would return where Mirkwood would be green and lush once more.

"Are you well, Thranduil?" Elrond asked.

The king turned and looked at the elf-lord. "Aye. I am but merely thinking of how my home used to be green like this, and the trees growing strong and tall in the sunlight."

Elrond placed a consoling hand on the king's arm. "That time will return again, Thranduil," the elf-lord said quietly.

Thranduil smiled briefly. "I know it will." His voice was strong in its conviction, and he clasped Elrond's arm before letting go and mounting his horse.

Erestor and Glorfindel had already said their farewells, and were watching as Thranduil and his escort readied themselves to leave. "I am going to miss Lindir," Glorfindel said quietly.

The darkling elf nodded his agreement. "First Lothvaen, now Lindir leaves. Who would have thought that in such a short space of time elves would lose their hearts so quickly?"

"How do you feel about Lothvaen going to Lothlórien?" Glorfindel asked curiously.

"I could say I was surprised, but Lothvaen did approach me, asking me what he should do. I told him he should listen to his heart and so, in the end, it was not a surprise after all," Erestor replied.

Glorfindel smiled briefly. "The twins seem to have adapted themselves well to their new relationship."

Erestor snorted. "'Tis all or nothing with those two. They have never done things by halves, and never will."

"Strangely enough, Elrond said the same thing."

Erestor turned and looked at Glorfindel. "How long have you been in Imladris?"

Blinking at the question, Glorfindel replied, "Since before the twins were born."

"Exactly. Which means you have known the twins since their birth. Do you not think you would have seen for yourself what they were like, that they always threw themselves into things, that there were no half-hearted attempts by either of them?" Erestor's voice was testy.

Glorfindel smiled broadly. "I do like it when you get annoyed with me, Counsellor," he whispered into his mate's ear.

Erestor's eyes narrowed. "You deliberately do this," he said flatly. "What makes you think I am amused by such behaviour?"

"Because, ervainen vorn, you tolerate it when it is I that pulls a stunt such as this. Others you would glare at until they wilt under your gaze. But I, on the other hand, am the only one that makes your heart beat faster, the only one you wish to shake until my teeth rattle and then kiss me senseless…"

"Enough!" Erestor hissed, barely stifling a moan as Glorfindel began sucking on the darkling elf's ear. "We are in public, for Valar's sake!"

"Mmm, we are." Glorfindel gave a gentle nip to his mate's ear before moving away. "I would have no objections if we continued this…conversation in private, later, if you wish." There was a gleam in the seneschal's eyes.

"Agreed," Erestor said, his smile a little feral. "Be prepared to be taught a lesson, melethen."

"Then I can not wait."

Elladan and Elrohir watched the exchange between the advisor and seneschal, amusement threatening to spill over into laughter.

"They are more than well-matched," Elrohir commented, linking his arm through his lover's.

"Aye." Elladan's gaze turned to Legolas and Lindir. "I still can not believe that Lindir is betrothed to Legolas, and is now going to make his home in Mirkwood."

Following his lover's gaze, Elrohir smiled as he saw the minstrel blush under something Legolas had said. But the love that flowed between the two of them was palpable, and Elrohir gave a small sigh.

"What is it?" Elladan asked.

"I am just wondering how it is that the relationship between and Lindir and Legolas seems so…uncomplicated."

Elladan looked at his lover. "You have mentioned this before," he said, smiling. "Whereas we fought against our destiny, and Erestor fought against Glorfindel. I wonder what they must have thought, seeing the discord around them."

"They were probably all the more determined not to fall into the same trap," Elrohir replied.

Elladan stifled a laugh. "And then there's Lothvaen," he said. "Who would have thought he would capture the heart of the stern Marchwarden? Now *that* is something I would never have guessed."

"That makes two of us, though I doubt if we are the only ones who think that."

"Are you happy for him?" Elladan wanted to know.

"Of course I am. Nothing pleases me more than the fact that he has finally found love. I never wanted to hurt him."

"I know you did not, but it was you who pointed out that our relationships with others never worked out because of the fact that it was *us* who were meant to be together."

"Melin chen," Elrohir whispered.

Elladan's breath caught, and with a shaking hand he cupped his lover's cheek. "Melin chen, bevae," he said, almost in wonderment. "Always."

************************

Elvish translation: Adar - father

ervainen vorn - my dark beautiful one

melethen - my love

melin chen - I love you

melin chen, bevae - I love you, too

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

END