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Elladan stood surrounded by orc carcasses. He was ankle deep in them, truth be told. Elrohir was finishing off a particularly nasty one with a quick thrust of his blade, and the elder twin turned his face skyward.

The rain came down in nearly literal sheets. The ground was slick with mud and black blood, and it mottled his hair and armor and sword. A loud crack of thunder split the air. He could feel the cool rain wash the filth from his hair and skin. He breathed deeply; rainwater poured down his face and ran under his armor, soaking his garments and plastering his hair against his head. A smile curved his full lips and he opened his mouth, catching fat drops that fell from the sky.

Elrohir looked at his twin and shook his head. Only Elladan could find peace standing in a pile of dead orcs during a downpour. He pulled his blade free of the beast’s chest and wiped the foul blood off on his cloak.

“Enjoying yourself?” Elrohir asked.

“I am, as a matter of fact,” Elladan answered.

“We have carcasses to gather,” Elrohir said.

“I know. I just wanted to take a moment.”

“This is an odd time to take a moment, Elladan.”

“I love the rain.”

“I know you do. Though, I have never understood why. Fighting in it is most unpleasant.”

“Very well,” he said, lowering his gaze to the pile of dead orcs around him. “We have finished this lot, yes?”

“Yes,” Elrohir answered. “Though I suspect there are more close by.”

“There are always more,” Elladan said with a sigh. “They breed like rabbits. Worse than rabbits, actually.” He looked at his twin. “I need a holiday.”

Elrohir huffed and sheathed his sword. “I second that, brother.”

“Where would you go, if you were to take a holiday?”

“Somewhere warm. I always mourn the passing of warm summer days this time of year. Where would you go?” Elrohir asked, grabbing the orc at his feet and tossing it on top of another.

Elladan stepped over one orc, then another as he picked his way out. “Somewhere warm sounds very nice. Somewhere without orcs would be best.”

“I do not believe there is such a place, brother,” Elrohir said, tossing another orc onto the pile. “Who would you take with you?”

Elladan also began gathering up the carcasses and forming his own pile. He thought about it for a moment. “I am not sure,” he said, though in truth he knew exactly who he would take. “You?” he asked his twin.

“Legolas,” Elrohir answered.

Elladan raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

Elrohir looked at his twin. “Yes. Really. Why do you make that face?”

“Well,” Elladan said with a sly smile beginning to curve his lips. “I knew you were becoming friends, but I had no idea you fancied him.”

“Have you seen the Sinda, Elladan? What is there not to fancy, I ask.”

“Good point. He is most . . . attractive.”

“That is downplaying it, brother.”

“All right. He is beautiful, and smart, and full of mirth, and he sings quite well.”

“I would like to hear that voice raised in another kind of song altogether.”

Elladan laughed and shook his head. “You are incorrigible.”

Elrohir smiled in satisfaction. “Yes. I am. You really do not know who you would take?” He tossed another orc onto his pile.

“Well…”

Elrohir dropped his orc and walked over to his twin. “Speak,” he said, hands on his hips.

“You cannot repeat this to anyone.”

“When have I ever broken your trust?”

Elladan looked at the ground and felt his cheeks coloring already. He blamed his mother for that little bit of family resemblance. “Glorfindel.”

Elrohir’s eyes widened. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“You, and Glorfindel; I had no idea… How long?”

“What?”

“How long have you fancied him?” Elrohir repeated.

“A while.”

“How long, Elladan?”

“A very long while.”

“Since we were young.”

“Yes.”

“How is it that you have not told him after all of this time?” Elrohir asked, aghast.

“I tried to, when I reached my majority, but—”

“He thought it was a youthful infatuation.”

“How do you know that?” Elladan asked.

“That’s what Glorfindel said to Adar, when you gave him that elaborate gift.”

Elladan hid his face in his hands. “For the love of Eru, Elrohir! Did it not occur to you to tell me this earlier? Say two thousand years ago?!?”

“I did not want to tell you then because I did not want you to be hurt. After a time I assumed you had moved on. How was I to know you have harbored feelings for him all this while? You’ve never spoken of it. I was of the same mind as Adar and Glorfindel.”

“Have you ever seen me express interest in anyone else?”

“I have never seen you express interest in anyone, period. Well, at least not since then. I thought you were just being . . . particular.”

“You are obtuse.”

“You are a lovesick puppy,” Elrohir responded, poking his brother in the chest.

Elladan sighed, and then looked around. With an abrupt change of subject he said, “How are we to burn these orcs with it raining so hard?”

“We will have to wait until it stops,” Elrohir answered. “We had best take up a defensible position, just in case more come.”

“You are right,” Elladan said, and pointed toward an outcropping of rocks. “There is a good place. We can see them approach from any direction.”

“Agreed,” Elrohir said. “You go on and set up camp. I will finish here.”

Elladan nodded and walked away.

Elrohir watched his tall, handsome, kind, and oft too solitary brother walk away. He could not imagine how hard it must be to love someone for so long and have that love go unrequited and it pained him to know that Elladan had gone without the joy of knowing that kind of love returned all his life. Elrohir loved his twin with all his heart and he would do anything for him. A smile curved his lips – and he was going to do something special for him. Very special indeed. Maybe Elladan was to reticent to approach Glorfindel again, and Eru knew that Glorfindel was far too conventional to ever court his lord’s son, but that did not mean that things might not progress if the situation were right.

* * * *

Dawn broke and with it came retreat of the rain. The ground steamed as the rain-soaked earth slowly began to warm and dry. Elladan tossed his torch onto the pile of orcs in front of him. They smelled foul as they started to burn. Elrohir’s pile was already engulfed in flame.

Elrohir had ridden a short ways north, back toward their home. He told Elladan that he thought he saw a patrol that was coming their way and he wished to greet them and direct them to their location. Any orcs that might have been nearby would also see the patrol coming, not to mention the result of facing the Sons of Elrond burning in the field, so Elladan felt safe being alone. At any rate, he was armed and his horse was close by. He owned the fastest horse in all of Imladris, all save Asfaloth. Glorfindel’s Mearh was, in fact, the fastest horse west of the Misty Mountains.

His garments were still damp underneath his armor from the rain the night before, though his hair was starting to dry in the morning sun. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, enjoying the feeling of the sun’s rays on his face. He breathed deep and could smell the early snows in the mountains and hear the first rustlings of the autumn leaves as they began to fall from the white-barked trees. This was his favorite time of year, when summer waned and gave way to fall, when the leaves turned and the air grew crisp. Soon there would be holiday celebrations a plenty and long nights by warm fires.

He heard the clop of hooves and he turned to greet his brother. Only, it wasn’t Elrohir that he saw, it was Glorfindel.

The ancient warrior raised his hand in greeting, and as it always did when Elladan would first see him after an absence, his heart caught in his throat for a moment. He raised his hand in return, took a deep breath to steady himself, and then walked toward the approaching Elda.

“Mae Govannen, Glorfindel,” he said, grateful that his voice didn’t tremble.

“Mae Govannen, Elladan,” Glorfindel answered. “Elrohir told me that you were here. You should not be on your own, not so close to a recent skirmish.” Glorfindel slid off of Asfaloth’s back and looked around. “How many were there?”

“I lost count at fifty,” Elladan said.

Glorfindel’s expression was grim as he surveyed the scene. The twins did battle with over fifty orcs on their own. While they were as good at killing the foul beasts as anyone he had ever seen, this vendetta of theirs was getting out of hand.

“You should not have confronted that many on your own,” he said.

“We had little choice,” Elladan countered, bracing himself for a dressing down. He also made a mental note to give Elrohir a thrashing for leaving him there to deal with it by himself.

“You could have been killed,” Glorfindel continued.

“As we could be every day that we patrol the wild. As could you each time you do battle,” he countered. “Where is Elrohir?”

“He is riding back with Gildor and the rest of the patrol – he sent me ahead to fetch you. Your father sent us to bring you home. He said you had been gone too long.” He looked at the elder twin. “I taught you better than this.”

Elladan tried not to wince at the remark, but it stung as surely as a slap to the face. “I thought we did quite well, actually.”

“You were outnumbered,” Glorfindel said, glaring at the twin. “You are lucky to be alive.”

Elladan looked at his boots.

“Are you alright?” Glorfindel asked in a softer tone.

“I have a few bruises and a cut here and there, but all are far from serious.”

Glorfindel put his hand on the elder twin’s shoulder. “The two of you will put me in an early grave for worry.”

Elladan raised his eyes and looked at his mentor. He could not tell if it was worry for losing him or worry for his father that he saw in those large blue eyes. “I am sorry, Glorfindel. But we were fine, honestly. We were never in danger of—”

Glorfindel grasped both of Elladan’s shoulders and gave him a little shake. “That is where you are wrong!” he barked. “Even one orc can kill you, Elladan. One. You and your brother must stop believing that you are invincible or that is exactly what will happen to you, and I will be left to watch your father grieve. Will you do that to him? Will you compound loss upon loss? It has been only fifty years since your mother—”

“You need not remind me of that fateful day,” Elladan said in a dark voice, his eyes narrowing. It was the first time in his life that he had taken a tone of anger with Glorfindel. “I was there.”

This time it was Glorfindel who looked at the ground. “Of course,” he said.

“You are not my father,” Elladan continued in a low, menacing tone. “I am old enough to make my own choices. I am not an elfling under your tutelage any longer.” Glorfindel’s manner toward him was infuriating, particularly given the feelings that he had recently admitted to Elrohir.

Glorfindel looked up to meet Elladan’s gaze. The peredhel’s eyes were dark; they looked the color of a violent, stormy sky. “I know,” he said quietly.

“I am not your responsibility.” When would the Elda ever see him as anything but a youth with fanciful notions of romance?

“I know,” Glorfindel repeated.

Elladan turned, breaking Glorfindel’s hold on him, and stalked toward his horse. He took a moment and took a deep shuddering breath, as if he could breathe the anger out of him. His mare nickered as he stroked her neck, and she turned her head, nuzzling his elbow. He stroked her soft muzzle then swung up on to her back.

“We should go, yes? Before they get too far ahead?” he asked, his gaze turned toward the sky. The anger he felt toward orcs because of his mother’s captivity and torture was reluctant to leave him, as it so often was those days. Sometimes he worried about who it was turning him into.

“Yes.” Glorfindel replied. The Elda mounted his stallion and rode away from the battlefield with his companion in silence.

* * * *

Glorfindel thought it would be a long three days before they arrived in Imladris at the rate their trip was going. It was nearing sunset and Elladan still hadn’t spoken to him other than answering any questions he asked. They had galloped a fair amount and were still behind the main patrol, but Elladan’s mare needed rest so they needed to stop for the night. They were in little danger, as they grew closer to the Hidden Valley.

“We should make camp,” Glorfindel said. “It will soon be nightfall.”

“Very well,” Elladan said. “There,” he pointed. “The old guard post. It is an easily defensible place and is close to a fresh water supply. Elrohir and I have spent many a night there.”

It was the most the peredhel had said all day.

“Agreed,” Glorfindel responded.

They dismounted and took their packs off of their horses. Elladan murmured to his mare to stay close to Asfaloth, and then he gripped the tree trunk and began to climb. When he reached the top, he pulled the door down and climbed inside, then dropped the rope ladder down to Glorfindel. Sitting back on his heels he regretted his suggestion immediately. He had forgotten how small the post was. It was little more than a child’s tree house hidden in a tall Spruce. They would be in very close quarters all night.

As Glorfindel entered, Elladan thought it would be best if he were to apologize for the tone he took with the Elda earlier. While he was still feeling hurt for reasons he didn’t care to admit to himself, they did have to be together for the next two days.

“I am sorry for the state of our lodgings. It is small, but it is safe.”

Glorindel set his pack down. “It will do. We need only sleep here.” The Elda’s back was turned as he unpacked his knapsack.

“Glorfindel?” Elladan asked.

Glorfindel turned and looked at Elladan. “Yes?”

“I want to apologize for the way I spoke to you earlier,” he said, forcing himself to look the Elda in the eye.

“No apology is necessary,” Glorfindel answered. “It was I who overstepped my bounds. I know you are no longer my pupil, but I cannot help but still feel . . . protective of you.”

“I have tried to let go of the anger I feel toward those…” he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “But I struggle sometimes.”

“I understand,” Glorfindel responded. “I know what it is like to lose those you love. But you do have the solace of knowing that she is at peace now, in the West.”

“Of course,” Elladan said. “You of all would understand.” He focused on loosening the laces on his pack.

Glorfindel looked at his charge carefully. Elladan was fully matured, no longer an inquisitive elfling. To look at him, it was obvious, of course. He was tall and strong, broad of shoulder and strong of jaw. He was exceedingly handsome and so kind to all he met in their homeland, man or elf alike. Elladan did have a special affinity for men, Glorfindel had noticed, and he had bonded with those Edain who sought refuge in Imladris. Glorfindel paid special attention to the form that Elladan cut in his armor. He had more than once took note of how long the peredhel’s legs were.

He closed his eyes. Best not to indulge in such thoughts regarding his lord’s son; it was . . . unseemly.

“Glorfindel?”

The Elda opened his eyes and looked at Elladan, who had a clear expression of concern on his face.

“Have I awoken unpleasant memories for you?” Elladan asked quietly.

“No,” Glorfindel said. “I am fine. Here,” he moved toward the peredhel. “Let me help you remove your armor. No sense in spending another night in it, as it was not meant for comfort.”

“Thank you,” Elladan said, and he gained his feet, nearly knocking his head upon the roof of the small shack.

Glorfindel worked the buckles and straps holding Elladan’s armor together. It was fine craftsmanship; a gift from Elrond to his son when he became old enough to join Imladris’s defense force. Elrohir had a matching set. As he lifted the breastplate free he saw a spot of deep purple, just above Elladan’s collarbone.

“That was a hard blow,” he said, lifting the peredhel’s chainmail and tunic away to inspect it closer.

“It is fine,” Elladan said. “No bones were broken.” He closed his eyes and swallowed when Glorfindel’s fingertips gently probed the area. Any discomfort there from the bruising was quickly overshadowed by his body’s reaction to the Elda’s touch.

“Mace?” Glorfindel asked.

“Yes,” Elladan answered. “A big one. The beast nearly took my head off. The hit almost drove me to my…” he quit speaking abruptly. This line of conversation could only end in another lecture.

“I have a salve that your father made for me in my pack,” Glorfindel said, gently releasing the shirt and resisting the urge to lecture the peredhel again. “It is a new recipe that works quite well without the foul odor of the last one.” As he rummaged through his pack he said quietly, “It is not that I do not have faith in your prowess, Elladan. You are one of the finest warriors I have had the pleasure to serve with. It is just that, if anything were to happen to you─”

“I know,” Elladan said. “You would have to care for father in his grief.”

“Your father is not the only one who would grieve, Elladan.”

“Arwen, of course, and mother once she knew.”

“I was speaking of me,” Glorfindel answered looking Elladan directly in the eye. The look on Elladan’s face caused something inside Glorfindel to tighten, and he quickly added: “All of our people would grieve. You are much beloved.”

Elladan’s unabashed look of surprise and gratitude faded. “I understand,” he said quietly. He then focused on unbuckling his leg bracers.

Glorfindel closed his eyes and inwardly cursed himself. Why could he never say the right thing?

Elladan sat down and pulled his chainmail over his head and Glorfindel knelt beside him and began applying the salve to his shoulder.

“What I meant to say was—”

“I understand what you meant,” Elladan said, focusing his gaze on the floor and trying to ignore how Glorfindel’s touch made him feel. The urge to grab him, pin him to the floor and kiss him was overwhelming, even though he knew the Elda did not seek the same from him. This was as close to torment as he’d ever experienced, and he had two more days of it to look forward to. Fantastic.

“I am no longer that youth that was infatuated with you, Glorfindel. You need not be so careful with your words.” It was only partly a lie.

“Forgive me,” Glorfindel said. “I find that often I cannot find the correct words for what I am feeling.”

“What are you feeling?” Elladan asked, casting a sideways glance at his mentor.

“Stupid, at the moment,” the Elda said frankly.

This caused Elladan to smile a little and he replied, “You are many things, but never stupid.”

“That is kind of you” Glorfindel replied. He took a deep breath and sat back. “There, how does that feel?”

Elladan rolled his shoulder. “Better.”

“Having your armor off will also help. We should step outside. I need to refill my water bag and we should enjoy the twilight in the wood before we need to return to these small quarters.”

“Agreed,” Elladan responded, strapping his bow and quiver to his back and grasping his sword. He then opened the trap door and descended the ladder quickly.

Glorfindel followed and Elladan watched the way the warrior’s muscles shifted beneath his leggings. His gaze followed the curve of his hamstring muscles up to where they met his taut backside. By the time Glorfindel was upon the ground, Elladan’s gaze was directed out into the forest.

They walked side by side through the wood, and Elladan gathered berries to eat as they went. Lifting the edge of his tunic, he formed a basket, of sorts and began depositing the berries there.

They heard a mewling sound coming from beside the stream and Elladan moved to investigate. He found a small wolf pup crawling along the bushes. It was only weeks old.

“Where is its mother?” he asked, kneeling down to inspect the pup and insure that it was healthy.

“Is it injured or otherwise imperfect?” Glorfindel asked. “The mother may have abandoned it if it is not meant to live.” He scanned the forest looking for sign of the she-wolf.

“Or its mother has not survived its birthing,” Elladan said, gently stroking the young pup’s coat.

“I see nor hear other pups,” Glorfindel responded.

“It is so beautiful,” Elladan said quietly. “Its coat is the color of a stormy sky.”

“Stay with it for a moment. I shall look close by for its mother or signs of other pups.”

Elladan nodded and sat back on his heels. The small pup crawled toward him and it began climbing into his lap. “You are cold,” he said quietly. “And damp. How long have you been without your mother?” he asked the pup, enfolding it in his arms and drawing his cloak around them both. “If we do not find her, I shall take you home with me,” he said. “You will grow strong in Imladris and when you are of age you will hunt with Elrohir and me.”

Glorfindel was not gone long when he returned. “She is long gone. I found her tracks and the tracks of her pups leading away and across the river.”

“Why did she abandon him?”

Glorfindel knelt next to Elladan, and reached inside the peredhel’s cloak removing the pup. “He is small, most likely the runt of the litter. These are hard times in this part of the wood. More and more wargs roam free. Perhaps the mother did not believe the pup could survive long. Winter will be upon us soon, she cannot afford to feed one who has a lesser chance of survival.”

“Then it is good that we found him,” Elladan said.

Glorfindel held the pup in the air. “Now, how to feed him? He is far from a weanling.”

“I shall make a soup from lembas and water until we are home. Then I shall feed him goat’s milk.”

Glorfindel smiled. Many would kill the pup and see it as a mercy, but not Elladan. “Very well then,” Glorfindel said, handing the pup back to Elladan. “We have another travelling companion. Come, let us gather water before it becomes too dark. I would not have us encounter wargs or orcs in the dark.”

Glorfindel knelt by the stream refilling their water bags while Elladan set the pup down and quickly constructed a small basket made of twigs to carry the berries in. It had only been a brief moment when he looked up from his work and saw the pup heading straight for the swift running river.

Dropping the basket and the berries, he headed straight for the pup. The tip of his scabbard caught Glorfindel’s cloak and pulled it roughly to the side, catching the Elda about the throat. In an effort to not drop the water bags, Glorfindel twisted and teetered. With a loud bark he landed on his back in the shallow water just as Elladan snatched up the pup from the river’s edge.

Elladan held the pup in the crook of his arm and covered his mouth with his free hand. He felt a mixture of quilt, embarrassment, and inappropriately, mirth, as he watched his former mentor regain his feet indelicately. He was soaked to the bone, golden hair plastered against his head, tunic, cloak, leggings and boots all wet and clinging to his frame.

“Are you all right?” he asked hesitantly, resisting the urge to laugh aloud.

“I am wet,” the Elda growled. “Fully clothed and wet.”

“Yes,” Elladan responded, his thin veneer of concern cracking.

“It is almost nightfall, we are three days ride from home, and my clothing is soaked.”

“Have you never been wet before?” Elladan asked, biting the inside of his cheek to try to keep from laughing.

“Of course I’ve been wet,” the Elda growled. “Do you think I do not bathe? I am not in the habit of bathing in my clothes in the middle of the wood, however.”

“Has it never rained on you during patrol?”

“Of course it has! But that is beyond my control. This . . . I should not be wet right now.”

A small giggle escaped Elladan. The more frustrated Glorfindel became, the more humorous the situation was. “It is only water, Glorfindel,” he said, stifling a further giggle.

The Elda glared at him. “Find this amusing, do you?”

Elladan could not hold it in any longer. “Yes, actually,” he responded before breaking into laughter.

Glorfindel nodded and stepped closer. “Well, I am glad I could provide you with some entertainment,” he said coolly, then promptly took the pup from Elladan and pushed the peredhel into the river.

Elladan’s arms pinwheeled and he barked as he tipped backward, he managed to bend as he fell, landing on his backside rather than laid out in the river.

Glorfindel smiled broadly. “Ah, I see now. It is quite amusing.”

“Glorfindel!” Elladan shouted as he gained his feet. “You pushed me.”

“I did indeed.”

“That is hardly fair.”

“I do not see how that is the case. You are, in fact, the reason I ended up in the river. Why should I not return the favor?”

“You are being spiteful,” Elladan said with a frown.

“You are being a poor sport,” Glorfindel said with a smile.

Elladan looked at him for a moment, at the broad grin on the Elda’s face, the way his garments clung to him in such a way that he could see nearly everything and his frown faded. First he smiled, which caused Glorfindel’s expression to grow warmer, then he started laughing, and the Elda joined him.

“Come,” Glorfindel said offering his hand, “we should return to the outpost. It is nearly dark and we must feed this little one.”

Elladan nodded and took the Elda’s offered hand as he climbed out of the river.

Elladan was the first to climb the rope ladder. He could not see the way Glorfindel watched him from below, how the Elda’s gaze was focused on his legs and backside, nor the way his throat worked as he swallowed.

Upon reaching the top, Glorfindel tossed the pup straight up into the air and Elladan caught him as Glorfindel began to climb.

Elladan removed his boots and stockings and wiggled his wet toes. Glorfindel did the same, hanging his stockings upon a windowsill. Using their swords, he hung their boots upside down to dry as well.

“’Tis a pity we cannot build a fire,” he said. “I am loathe to climb into my bed roll in this state.”

Elladan nodded. “This is the second night I will spend wet.”

Rain began to fall outside and Glorfindel looked up as the first drop worked its way between the boards over their heads and fell upon his face. “Wonderful,” he grumbled.

Elladan smiled. “You and Elrohir, neither of you can abide the rain.”

“Not when I am soaked and have been riding all day and seek rest in a dry bedroll.”

“At least we will not have to sleep out in it,” Elladan said optimistically.

Glorfindel smiled and Elladan felt his insides go warm. He reached out slowly and brushed a tiny bit of a leaf from the Elda’s hair.

Glorfindel looked deep into Elladan’s eyes. He loved the peredhel, always had. But the more mature Elladan became, the more those platonic feelings of love began to transmute into something so much more powerful.

“Glorfindel?” Elladan’s voice was quiet.

“Yes?” he asked, still gazing into his eyes.

“I am glad you are here.”

Glorfindel swallowed. “So am I.”

It felt like an eternity that they sat quietly, looking into each other’s eyes as the small shack they occupied grew darker and the rain fell harder. It was Elladan that finally broke the silence when he moved to get his bedroll. “This side is dry, if you do not mind being so close,” he said, not even daring to hope for more than just sharing the Elda’s proximity.

“My thanks,” Glorfindel said, and he spread his bedroll next to Elladan’s as the peredhel prepared their guest’s dinner.

* * * *

It was past Ithil’s setting when Glorfindel first woke. The sound of an owl in the tree above their heads caused him to listen for anything amiss. All he heard was the sounds of the forest at night. He felt the wolf pup’s paws pushing against his stomach and he looked down to find the pup curled in between him and Elladan.

Turning his head he found Elladan lying on his side, one hand tucked under his head, the other resting comfortably on his hip. Elladan’s face was so close that he could feel the peredhel’s breath on his face. Glorfindel turned to his side and propped himself up on his elbow. He studied his companion’s face carefully while he slept.

Elladan’s expression was peaceful: eyes closed, face relaxed, full lips parted just the smallest bit. Elladan breathed deep, and Glorfindel’s eyes moved to his chest rising then falling. They travelled unbidden over the younger elf’s form, taking in his broad shoulders, his narrow waist and hips, the shape his long, muscular legs formed inside his bedroll. Elladan was extraordinary to look at – it was no wonder that he had a line of suitors, male, female, elfkind and mankind alike a mile long. His extraordinary beauty was only augmented by his kind nature and quick wit.

He found it odd that Elladan had not shown even the slightest interest in taking a mate – indeed, he spent nearly all of his time with Elrohir. Some had speculated that perhaps the bond between the twins was closer and stronger than what would be deemed appropriate, but Glorfindel knew differently. He had known them both since they took their first breaths and uttered their first cries. He had balanced them on his knees, carried them upon his hips, taught them about the famous battles, showed them how to wield swords, and fire arrows. He knew all there was to know about them.

A strand of hair fell across Elladan’s face and Glorfindel watched his companion’s nose wrinkle as it tickled him. Glorfindel reached out and gently plucked it away, tucking it back behind Elladan’s ear. Elladan made a satisfied little noise and smiled a bit. This made Glorfindel smile broadly. He often hated himself for how he felt about Elladan, how it had come upon him unawares and now he could not banish the feelings, no matter how hard he tried.

How easy would it be, he thought, to close the small distance between them, to reach out and touch, kiss, and hold him. But it was an affront to his duty, to the promise he swore to his Lord Elrond. It was his duty to teach and protect Elladan and Elrohir. He could never be what Elladan had once wanted him to be, and to be honest, for all he knew his young pupil had outgrown that crush years ago.

He was lost in these thoughts when he heard his name.

“Glorfindel?”

He had just been caught staring. He quickly laid on his back and looked at the ceiling.

“I thought I…”

“You were watching me sleep,” Elladan said in a tone that was something like disbelief.

“I thought I heard something. I merely wanted to ensure that you were well.”

“Why did you not ask me?”

“I thought you were asleep.”

“With my eyes open?”

“Some elves sleep with their eyes open. We have never slept together so I did not know.”

A smile was slowly curving Elladan’s lips. The Elda was flustered. Never, ever had he seen Glorfindel lose his composure, well, other than falling in the river of course. The question was, why now?

“And by sleep together I meant sleep in close proximity.”

“Of course,” Elladan answered in a slow, measured voice. His mind was turning over and over, why would Glorfindel watch him sleep? Why would Glorfindel watch him sleep with that particular expression on his face, and then act as though he was just caught with his hand in the cookie jar when Elladan called it out?

Could it be? Could it really be possible? Could they both have been yearning each for the other all this time and neither know?

Slowly, Elladan reached out and laid his hand on the warrior’s chest. He felt the nearly imperceptible tremor that coursed through Glorfindel’s body. He let it rest there for a moment, waiting for the Elda to say or do something to discourage him further. When nothing happened, he slid closer, careful to move their furry sleeping companion to the side.

As they were so close as to practically touch before, it did not take much effort for Elladan’s body to come into full contact with Glorfindel’s once he was free of his bedroll.

“Elladan…” the warrior began.

“Are you going to ask me to stop?” Elladan breathed against the warrior’s shoulder. “Please do not ask me to stop.”

“This . . . We…”

“Are both mature, and neither of us are promised to another.” His hand slid from Glorfindel’s chest to his face. With gentle pressure, he turned the warrior’s face toward him. He carefully studied Glorfindel’s face. His eyes were closed and his jaw set, but it wasn’t disgust that Elladan read there. Glorfindel was fighting against his own desire.

“I am no longer the youth who is infatuated with his tutor,” Elladan said. “I understand now that back then I was too young to know what I wanted. I know that back then it would not have been right and you had a duty to uphold.”

“I still have that duty,” Glorfindel said quietly, his eyes slowly opening.

Elladan was so close that he could barely look into Glorfindel’s eyes. “I do not need your protection, Glorfindel. I can take care of myself. When did we last travel together? When was the last time you escorted me anywhere in order to protect me?”

“Elladan.”

“You saw what I am capable of. You know what I can do. I am a warrior in my own right. If you are no longer my tutor, no longer my protector, then what are you?”

“I do not know any longer.”

Elladan smiled. “You are my friend.”

Glorfindel touched Elladan’s face. “I am.”

“Can you not be my lover as well?”

“I want to be.”

“Then be,” Elladan said, leaning in for a kiss.

Glorfindel was not surprised at how soft Elladan’s mouth was. He had imagined it just that way so many times before. He was passive at first, allowing Elladan full control and a thorough perusal. His hands found their way into Elladan’s heavy, soft mane as if they had done so a thousand times before. The small, deep noises that came from Elladan caused something to go molten in his core – the heat building and spreading outward as his grip on his former pupil became stronger.

Elladan started to move against him, slowly, but he could feel the urgency that began to build in the peredhel’s body. His own body responded in kind, one hand slipping lower to the curve of Elladan’s spine. Somewhere, in his desire-fueled mind it occurred to him that he was unsure if Elladan had ever had a lover before, but that was quickly overshadowed by the feel of what he had wanted for so long so close to him.

Elladan pulled back from the kiss for a moment and Glorfindel felt as though it had been an eternity since he last breathed. The peredhel canted his head and began to kiss him again when a small, whimpering sound greeted their ears and a cold, wet nose and wet tongue lapped at Elladan’s nose.

The peredhel laughed and Glorfindel smiled at the pure joy in Elladan’s eyes. He caressed Elladan’s cheek with the back of his hand. “We will have many nights together,” he said quietly. “For this night, let us sleep and keep this little one warm.”

Elladan nodded and tucked himself into Glorfindel’s side, bringing the pup to rest in the small space between his belly and Glorfindel’s hip. They fell asleep listening to the dull patter of the raindrops on the roof above their heads.

* * * *

Two more nights of sleeping in the wild, Elladan’s deft fingers and soft lips tormenting Glorfindel as they made out like wild youths, had taken a bit of a toll on the Elda. They rode through the gates of Imladris, Elladan with his charge tucked under his arm and Glorfindel sitting astride Asfaloth with an unresolved ache in his loins. Glorfindel had never been so glad to be home in all his life.

His clothes were ill fitting, having been wet and dry several times without being laundered. Asfaloth was in sore need of a bath as he had found a nice, large mud hole to roll in that morn and was no longer white but a strange, motley shade of tan. And their new friend had grown bolder and louder by the day, having spent a good portion of the night before yowling at the moon.

Elladan let none of these things dampen his spirits, despite the fact that his mare was a far sight worse in terms of muddiness than Asfaloth. At least she was already brown.

Elrohir was first to greet them, a wide smile of approval on his lips as he saw Elladan’s surprise. He quickly held the squirming pup high in the air over his head and declared that the wolf would grow into a fierce hunter. He named him Grey Wind and the pup joyfully trotted after the younger twin as he headed for their chambers in the Last Homely House.

Glorfindel held out his hand, and Elladan took it as they climbed the stairs. This did not escape Elrohir’s notice, and he smiled in approval. Yes, Elladan would give him a dressing down later, but to see them that way made it worth the trouble.

“I am going to bathe, immediately,” Glorfindel said, giving Elladan’s hand a squeeze.

“Is that an invitation?” Elladan asked, casting a sideways glance at his new lover.

Glorfindel smiled wickedly. “If you would like to take it as one.” He stopped at the base of the inside staircase. “Though, be discreet,” he said. “At least until we have an opportunity to speak to your father and gain his approval.”

“I understand,” Elladan said. “But let us speak to him soon. I would not have us hide how we feel for long.” He started to make for his own chambers, then stopped. “What if he does not approve? I will not abandon this just because he does not wish to see us together. I am no longer a youth. I am old enough to make my own choices in this life.”

“He would never forbid you to be with the one you love, Elladan.”

Elladan nodded and smiled broadly to hear the words come from Glorfindel’s lips. “I know; it is just that it has been so long. I have waited so long, that I am worried.”

“For over an age I have served your father. I have seen him at his very best and at his very lowest point. I have protected him, your mother, you and your brother and sister. I know him better than he knows himself, I wager. He will not refuse you what you want most, Elladan. He would never do that. And, on the off-chance that he did, I will simply tell him that he owes me this, since I have never asked him for a single thing in all these long years.”

Elladan smiled. “’Tis good that you have that trump card in your pocket.”

Glorfindel smiled. “Aye. It is. Now go and unpack. I shall see you in my quarters shortly.”

Elladan felt his heart skip and his stomach flip over. It was finally going to happen. He had to focus on keeping himself from getting hard at the very thought of it.

“I shall not delay,” he said.

Glorfindel swallowed. It was as if Elladan’s voice had transformed into pure molten sex.

“Good,” he answered, more than a hint of feral desire in his own voice. He turned on his heel and made for his quarters, nodding briefly at Erestor, who was left standing alone mid sentence with a confused look upon his face.

* * * *

The late autumn sun cast a warm glow in Glorfindel’s bathing chamber, streaming through the leaded glass windows and falling across the large tub. It reflected off the water, creating a shimmering light upon the ceiling. The Elda reclined in the tub enjoying the warm water’s caress upon his skin, his arousal already standing hard against his hip. He ignored it, waiting for his lover’s touch to ease the ache. His head rested back upon the side of the tub and his eyes were closed, his arms were extended and also resting upon the sides. He had left express instructions with his chambermaid that he was not to be disturbed. When he heard the door close and lock in his bedchamber, he knew it was Elladan.

He opened his eyes and saw his lover standing in the warm glow of the sun, a pale blue robe draped loosely around his shoulders, his hair unbound. When Elladan smiled at him Glorfindel felt his core go molten and he extended his hand. The robe fell from his lover’s shoulders with a soft sound, pooling on the floor around his feet. Elladan was more beautiful naked than Glorfindel could have imagined. The way his muscles shifted beneath his skin as he entered the tub, his skin only slightly marred from the battle three days before.

Elladan took no time in settling himself in his lover’s lap. The first touch of their entirely naked skin causing his breath to catch as the heat of desire rolled through his body. He closed his eyes and allowed his head to roll back, a deep moan breaking loose from deep inside him as Glorfindel slowly rolled his hips. He felt his lover’s hands in his hair and he canted his head down, opening his eyes and staring into azure blue orbs. Glorfindel was more beautiful to him in that intimate moment than he had ever been. The slightly feral look upon his lover’s face prompted him to lean forward and capture his mouth.

Glorfindel would have told anyone who asked that he knew Elladan’s mouth intimately, having already made several enthusiastic perusals of its warm, wet depths already, but when Elladan took control it was something else altogether. He acquiesced, allowing the peredhel total control and found himself moaning into the kiss, gripping his lover’s muscular backside harder, pulling him closer, wanting to climb inside his skin, to eat him from the inside, to kiss, lick, suck and touch every inch.

They moved against one another, willing themselves to go slowly, hands alternately grasping and caressing, Glorfindel taking them both in hand as they thrust against one another until finally Elladan could take it no more. He came with a strangled cry, burying his face into the juncture of Glorfindel’s neck and shoulder. Glorfindel was not far behind, breathing a deep moan into Elladan’s ear.

After sometime the water grew cool, and they moved from the bath to the bed, where Glorfindel held his lover in his arms as they napped in a warm, dry bed. His lips curved into a smile as he found reverie, and he felt content for the first time since his return to Middle Earth.

* * * *

Elladan and Glorfindel stood in front of Elrond in his study. Despite the fact that he was grown, he felt such nervousness as his father silently regarded him following his request that he and Glorfindel be allowed to enter a formal courtship. Glorfindel appeared unfazed, his hands clasped behind his back, his gaze focused on the wall above Elrond’s head as if he were awaiting no more than his next assignment.

Elladan forced himself to look into his father’s eyes, even when he feared the worst. Elrond could be unreadable often and as Elladan looked at his father that was never more apparent.

“I love him, Adar. I always have. He has done nothing to encourage it, I swear. I came to these feelings on my own.”

“And you?” Elrond asked his old friend.

“I have always loved your son, my lord, in one way or another. I promise you that he will never go unloved, not for one day. I will protect him as best as he will allow, I will be faithful to him, and I will honor and cherish him all the days of my life.”

Elrond smiled. “Well, far be it from me to impede the path of true love.” He stood as his eldest son smiled and grasped Glorfindel’s arm. “I give you both my blessing.”

“Thank you, Adar!” Elladan said, releasing Glorfindel’s arm and rounding the desk, hugging his father to within an inch of his life.

“You could not have chosen better, my son,” Elrond said quietly into Elladan’s ear.

“I know,” Elladan said quietly. “I know.”

As they exited Elrond’s study, they found Elrohir waiting for them with Grey Wind. Glorfindel nodded and left Elladan to speak to his twin.

“I suppose I have you to thank for this,” Elladan said.

“I only acted upon what was already there,” Elrohir said.

“How did you know he would feel the same way?”

“I have seen the way he looks at you. Besides, how could he not love you? You are . . . eminently loveable.”

Elladan smiled and placed his hands upon his twin’s shoulders. “You drive me mad sometimes.”

“I know. It is a gift.”

“I can never thank you properly for this, Elrohir.”

“You need not thank me. This is what brothers do.” He started to walk away then turned back. “Just be happy, Elladan. That will be more than thanks enough.” Elrohir turned and left his brother behind.

Elladan smiled and knelt down next to Grey Wind, ruffling his fur and allowing the wolf pup to lick his face. “Oh, I think I can come up with something, don’t you?” he said quietly to the pup. “Perhaps something to do with a certain Sinda prince who lives east of the mountains.” He stood and patted his thigh. “Come boy, we need to teach you how to hunt.”

~ Finis