Title:	Between Love and Agony
Author:	Larien Elengasse
Type:	FPS, M/M Slash
Pairing:  Elladan/Elrohir
Rating:	NC-17
Beta:	Larian Elensar

WARNING: This story is rated NC-17 and contains incest, male slash
pairings and explicit sexual content.  If you find this offensive, or
you are under-age, I strongly suggest you stop now.

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they are the property of
Tolkien, and I am sure he would be horrified if he read this... 

Feedback: Yes please larienelengasse@yahoo.com

Summary/Notes: First person, Elladan's POV.  Elladan and Elrohir succumb
further to their love for one another and accept their doom.  (Sequel to
Tattoo)


The sound of leather creaking and Elrohir's plaintive whimper brings a
smile to my lips as I watch my twin arch beneath my touch.  Naneth and
Adar have traveled to Lothlórien with Arwen, and Elrohir and I are alone
except for a few household staff and the usual soldiers required for
Imladris' defenses.  I now have months to make love to my brother,
months to touch him and hold him in the aftermath of our spent desire. 
There is nothing more beautiful than the sight of Elrohir undone by my
caress, his body bowed as he arches his back, his lips forming my name
as he cries out to me quietly.  

I take my time, as I rarely get to do, savoring each sigh, each moan,
until neither of us can take any more, until we both surrender to that
which is greater than ourselves.  Our love.

My fingers trace the brand upon his body, the brand I placed there, my
name inscribed upon his flesh, and he whispers it back to me, the
honeyed tones of his voice floating into my ears. 

"Amin (mine)," I whisper.

"Lle (yours)," he replies.

My tongue follows the path my fingers just took, another ragged sigh and
plaintive moan.

"Saes, gwanur..."

He begs me.  By Elbereth, I love it when he begs me, and he knows it. 
My own arousal strains against the black suede of my leggings, hot and
moist, heeding its master's call, heeding Elrohir's voice.

Ahh... another plaintive whimper as my teeth nip a pebbled nipple and my
tongue laps at it.  I suckle it as I once suckled at my mother's breast
as a babe; this is as essential an act to my survival as that once was. 
He is straining now, whimpers turning more desperate, his length
pulsating beneath my weight, against my stomach.  He rolls his hips up
into me, urgently seeking contact with me, the soft suede of his
breeches caressing my abdomen.

"Oh, Elrohir..." I whisper.  "I love you so..."

"Take me, Elladan," he whispers.  "Take me to that place where I can
only go with you, to where all I can feel is you, all that exists is
you."

"Come with me, Elrohir.  Stay there with me for all time..." I answer.

My lips move to cover his and he moans softly into my mouth, his breath
and tongue are so sweet.  I will spend eternity kissing my brother,
tasting his creamy skin, drinking in his honeyed voice, drowning in his
love for me.  All the world falls away in that moment, and all life is
reduced to something so simple as a kiss.  Nay, but it is not simple, it
is overwhelming, all consuming, and I am a slave to it, a slave to my
brother's love.

I feel his legs wrap around me, muscles harder than iron, wrapped in
flesh softer than silk.  He thrusts his hips up into me, our arousals
pressing together, straining for one another inside their suede prisons.

How much more can I take?  I do not know.  We have never had the
opportunity to find out; our couplings rushed and frantic, our love
doomed to hide in the shadows, to skulk like a loathsome beast.

"Are you with me, Elrohir?" I whisper.

"Yes, I am with you, meleth nín," he answers.

I open my eyes even as our lips are still locked together, and I watch
his dark eyes flicker beneath his fluttering lids.  We break our kiss
and he gasps for air, his chest expanding, tears falling from his eyes.

"I love you, Elladan..." he whispers over and over, like a mantra.  He
serenades me with his promises; promises that he will love me for all
time.

"I love you, Elrohir..." I reply with equal promise, but not nearly as
much eloquence.

A plaintive cry signals his release, my own comes soon after.  The suede
of our breeches soaked with our seed, stained with the evidence of our
forbidden love.

He pants against me, a blissful smile upon his face, and I am reluctant
to move, content to stare at him, to watch the warm afterglow wash over
his beautiful face.  His eyes flutter open and all I see is love and
happiness.  He shifts beneath me and a brief frown clouds his fair brow.

"Are you stiff, gwanur?" I ask softly.

"Mmm hmm..." he mumbles, too spent to even speak.

I reach up and untie his wrists and gently guide his hands down.  He
raises them and brings them to rest upon my back as I snuggle my face
into the juncture of neck and shoulder.  He shifts beneath me again and
laughs softly.

"We made a mess of ourselves this time, gwanur," he teases.

I smile; the sound of my brother's laughter lightening my spirit and
flooding me with love.  "Yes, we did, gwanur," I reply.

"I would like to do it again, a'maelamin," his voice thick and husky.

My tongue darts out and teases his heated flesh, licking the salt off
his skin.  "Shall we remove our clothes this time?"

He purrs in delight as his hands slide down my back, cupping my backside
and kneading the flesh.  "Oh yes, please..." 

I rise from him, crawling backward off my large bed and peeling my damp
leggings from my body.  I look at him lying on the bed, propped up on
his elbows, his hair falling wildly about his shoulders.  The look on
his face takes my breath away.

"What is it, a'maelamin?" I ask softly.

His voice sounds small as he speaks to me, "I want to love as others do,
I want to hold you in my arms every night, I want to bond with you in
front of our family."  A tear falls from his eye.  "But I know we
cannot, we will never be able to do that."

I crawl to him on the bed and take him in my arms.  "No we will not. 
But that does not change my love for you, Elrohir.  I will never love
another, never bond with another."

He curls into my arms, resting his head upon my chest.  "Nor will I,
gwanur," he whispers.

I slowly remove his soiled leggings as I lie back and he stretches out
above me, rising just long enough to struggle free of them before
pressing his warm, hard body back against my own.  Another kiss to drown
in, my fingers raking down his back.

This is where we exist now, hiding in the shadows, forever caught
between love and agony.

~Finis