Winter slid easily over Imladris, rolling down the steep-sided valley as though welcomed there more than any other season. The snow returned, much to Elrohir's delight, in a single thick fall lasting a full day and night. The woodland pools froze, the sound of the spring waterfalls was stilled, and among the trees, white deer stripped bark and searched for green shoots hidden beneath the snow. The air was sharp and cold, and smelled of sparks and tin.
One evening, as the last meal in Rivendell's great dining hall drew to a close, and the setting sun shed crimson beams into the room, Elladan, son of Elrond, rose from the table, trying as ever not to catch his brother's eye. A full day of sibling begging had not persuaded him to set foot outside in the snow, which had piled up in drifts against the sides of the building until it was almost level with his waist. It was a time when Elves would cheerfully have forgotten animosities ages old, if only a party of Dwarves with shovels could be found.
He had almost made it as far as the hall doors when a familiar and insistent arm snaked about his waist, and he turned to see Elrohir, still beaming about the snow. Sensing he would never get away unless he obliged his foolish brother, Elladan allowed himself to be led outside.
It seemed Elrohir was not the only one to insist on playing in the white ocean and other Elves were building things in the snow - or simply throwing it at each other. Elladan took his brother's hand and suggested they walk in the woods on the far side of the river, away from the games in the courtyard, but Elrohir insisted he had something new to show him, and bade him wait while he disappeared into the store-shed.
Presently he returned with a large round Mannish shield, which he demonstrated to Elladan was just large enough to sit upon if he tucked his feet up. Once aboard, any slight slope became a sledding run, which he could propel himself down at great speed, albeit with no Elvish dignity whatsoever. Lugging the shield up to the top of the drift at the side of the great hall, he proceeded to make a game of sliding down the incline toward the bridge over the frozen river.
Elladan wrapped his long robe around himself and settled down on a mossy balustrade he had brushed clear of snow, to watch Elrohir as he whistled past, betraying even in his casual gaze the true depths of his feelings for his brother. Elrohir was brash, childish, and given to exuberance without much forethought, but his quieter twin admired the wilful hunter without too much thought for their differences of temper. Perhaps, he had sometimes mused, that was why they complemented each other, two halves of the same whole; and why he admired the abandoned grace of the flying silhouette enjoying the snow like a young Elfling.
Though he had his doubts about his brother's new invention, curiosity eventually overcame him, and Elladan gave in and agreed to ride down the slope on the shield. Tucking up his feet upon the broad bowl and gripping the straps, he nodded to Elrohir to push him away.
The shield's polished underside sped him along much faster than he had expected, and he was travelling at a fairly steady trot at the moment Glorfindel, facing entirely the wrong way, stepped out in front of him.
The two of them collided, Elladan parted company with the shield, and he and Glorfindel slithered on down the hill. Elrohir hopped up onto the balustrade, running nimbly along the icy surface, watching the tangle as it ploughed its way towards the ornamental gardens at the bottom of the slope. Elladan had lost his cloak, which lay like a bright red wound on the surface of the drift halfway down, and Elrohir saw with horror that in the fall Elladan had collided very firmly with Glorfindel, who would surely have taken a bruising in the spill. Leaping from the balustrade, he ran down toward the neat garden, a regular set of outlines under the white blanket. By the time he reached the two Elves, Glorfindel had righted himself, and was crouched over the still form of Elladan, who had struck his head on a flagstone path lurking under the frost and knocked himself out.
'He'll not thank you when he wakes up, you know,' said Glorfindel, smiling to himself at the way Elrohir dropped down, horror-struck, beside his brother. 'And I'm fine, by the way.'
'Oh...ummm...' Glorfindel cut Elrohir off with a gentle wave of his hand.
'Nothing more than a little snow in the braids,' he said. 'But this young Elf should really be inside, and I am sure carrying him will be penance enough.'
******
Elladan didn't remember hitting the floor, but he reasoned that was probably normal after a bump on the head. The snowscape had gone, and he was back indoors, lying on a long couch in his father's study. The hazy shape above him had long blond hair and ornate robes, so he reasoned Glorfindel had not been mad enough with him to leave him outside in a snowdrift. Thankfully, the elder Elf appeared to be unhurt.
'Ah, Elladan,' began the musical tenor voice he knew so well. 'I was beginning to wonder when you would come back to us.' Elladan felt gentle arms slip around him and he was lifted slowly upright. Glorfindel was watching him intently, searching for any signs he might slip back into unconsciousness, but the young Elf was determined to show no more weakness before him than he already had.
'I didn't go that far,' he said, an impudent _expression on his upturned face.
'For that, I am glad,' replied Glorfindel, holding Elladan a little tighter, and squeezing one slender thigh with his free hand. 'As is Elrohir, who I am sure will crumple up and die if he is not allowed to be with you tonight in respect of your condition.'
Elladan bowed his head at this, and would have shied in embarassment had he been held by any other, but he minded neither the gentle, intimate touches, nor the knowledge the noble Elf had of the depth of his relationship with his brother.
For it was Glorfindel who had taught the twins how best they could express their love for each other, when they were but children and had known little more than fervent stolen kisses, and desperate tugging of aching Elfling shafts in the darkness of their shared bedroom. The two of them had, one night, followed a trail of strange and desperate sounds to the room where Erestor slept, and they had crept in silently behind a thick curtain, hands clasped tightly together, trying to make sense of the scene before them.
Glorfindel had been with Erestor in his room, and both of them had been naked as trees in winter. Erestor had been propped on his hands on the edge of his wide, high bed, begging Glorfindel aloud to give him more of something. Glorfindel's sex had been hard and red, and he had been forcing it viciously into Erestor's rear, using his hands to spread the other Elf's bruised cheeks so he could plunder the tight channel ever deeper. As the twins had watched in wide-eyed silence, the movements had reached fever pitch, and abruptly Glorfindel had pulled his sex from Erestor's body, cast his lover down face first on the mattress, and held his pulsing shaft as it spat thick streams of shimmering semen over Erestor's back and buttocks.
Slowly milking the last drops from his body, Glorfindel had abruptly turned and looked directly at the twins, asking with his eyes whether they had enjoyed the show. They had stared, their eyes darting between Glorfindel and the used, humiliated and utterly fulfilled Erestor, still gasping and sweating on the bed. At last they had run from the room, both professing horror, but each knowing in his heart that the strange and dirty pleasure they had witnessed would be theirs as soon as luck and secrecy allowed.
Elrohir looked rueful as Glorfindel beckoned him into the room, and the blond Elf gave one last reassuring smile to Elladan and melted discreetly away in the direction Elrohir had come from.
'You can apologise to me,' said Elladan, glowering at his brother. Elrohir carefully lifted Elladan from the couch and propped him in a standing position for the short walk to their shared bedroom.
'And you can forgive me,' he replied, 'the way you always do.'
******
The evening fire was bright in the grate when Elrohir had finished carefully disrobing his wobbling brother, arranging him in bed, and reassuring him that it was Men, not Elves, who shouldn't sleep immediately after a bump on the head. But he had paused only long enough to make sure Elladan was comfortable, and a little less cross with him, before sweeping out of the room with a sly smile on his face.
As Elladan lay alone on the soft furs, he wondered what Elrohir could have disappeared for. He wriggled against the fur, feeling it stroke his naked skin, and musing that it was just like Elrohir to strip him and walk away, leaving him frustrated. But his brother always came back to him, and he lay listening to the crackle of the flames in the warming room, knowing he had only to wait.
Before long, his brother reappeared, bearing a small pile of soft towels and a lightwood box the size of his open hand - quite flat, and seemingly a little wet. Elladan stared at it, puzzled as to what might be inside, but Elrohir set both box and towels down upon the nightstand and drew his twin's attention with a lingering kiss.
'Must you always leave me waiting?' Elladan lamented when his brother finally released him to speak.
'Of course.' Elrohir was unrepentant. 'You are so beautiful when you beg.' Elladan flushed as crimson as the fading sunset outside, and turned his head away, but deep within he knew that Elrohir was right. The further they had explored together, the more he had realised that his pleasure lay in submission, and he trusted no-one in the world but Elrohir to treat him with the kind of loving cruelty he seemed to need more and more each day.
Tender kisses fell like rain over his cheekbones, his jaw, his meekly offered throat, but in spite of the gentle assault, Elladan was thinking of the little wooden box, and what it might contain. He had to wait, as always, until his brother cared to release him, before he could find out what lay in store for him.
'Now, I suppose, I will show you what I brought these for,' said Elrohir, opening the box to reveal a set of perfectly-formed ice spheres of the kind Elrond used to cool summer drinks. Plucking one from the tray, Elrohir popped it into his mouth, his eyes sparkling. Leaning over Elladan, he took the wet sphere from his mouth and placed it gently in the hollow of his twin's throat.
Elladan's shocked cry was almost a shriek and he bucked against Elrohir's heavier body as the chill went through him like lightning. Elrohir caught the sphere before it could roll away, laughing gently as he soothed the cold spot with his warm tongue.
When Elladan had relaxed again he placed the ice against the translucent skin of his breastbone, drawing it about in lazy circles below his collarbones as his twin sighed and shivered, not knowing if the cold was pain or pleasure. Elladan's eyes fluttered shut and his head lolled on the pillow, but just as he was becoming used to the tingling it was taken away, and he heard the sound of Elrohir crunching the remainder of the ice.
His sorry whimper must have told Elrohir he wanted more, because the older Elf took another iceball from the tray and sucked it for a moment before resuming his attack on Elladan's chest. Gently he drew the ice across his brother's left nipple, watching it pebble up in the chill and revelling in the wiggle and sigh it drew. Swiftly he moved to warm it with his tongue, feeling the subtle changes in the texture of the tender flesh, before resuming his frozen torture upon the other nipple. Elladan arched up violently under Elrohir, his hands clasping at his brother's back; Elrohir suckled hard on each cinnamon bud in turn as the tantalizing ice slithered further and further down his quivering belly leaving a trail of meltwater on the soft skin.
Soon the second piece of ice was good only for eating, and Elrohir grabbed a third ice sphere with visible urgency, slithering down his twin's body until Elladan's desperate erection nudged him under the chin. He took a moment to kiss and nibble the rosy head, delighting in the way Elladan writhed slowly against the soft furs, gazing down at him with eyes brim-full of the love only twins can share.
Moving the ice slowly up and down Elladan's bobbing length, Elrohir met his adoring gaze and slowly mouthed the words 'You are mine.' The soft sigh as his brother laid back against the pillows was as gentle as the snow still falling outside, but in that sound Elrohir heard all the music he would ever need to hear.
He gently traced the ice over the underside of his twin's tightening testicles, watching the little pouch shrink reflexively from the cold as Elladan arched his back, spreading his legs and offering everything to his brother. Emboldened by Elladan's utter surrender, Elrohir drew the chilling sphere down to his pink, delicate entrance, mesmerised by the way it tensed and relaxed. He wanted to touch it, kiss it, tease it gently - but a better idea crept unbidden into his head. A much better idea.
Sweeping back up Elladan's body, he kept up the insistent massaging over the little hole as his mouth claimed his twin's in a hungry and reassuring kiss. Then, his eyes entreating Elladan to relax, and trust him, he pressed on the ice until the fiercely clenched little muscle gave way and Elladan's writhing body swallowed the sphere entirely.
For a moment, shock and horror warred on Elladan's face. He lost his erection entirely as spears of cold passed through him, and arched his back up against Elrohir, gasping and clutching at the winter furs with his hands. The tightness of his young passage drew the ice pellet deep inside, and Elladan bucked his hips urgently, the chill and the unforgiving hardness driving him into an agony of pleasure. Elrohir siezed yet another ice ball, unmelted by body heat and much larger, pausing only to moisten the frosty surface in his mouth before forcing it through his brother's tender entrance, pushing the first still deeper.
Rolling onto his side he pulled Elladan against him, swallowing him up in a fierce hug and smothering him in tiny apologetic kisses. Elladan's body spasmed against him, shivers passing through his taut belly, and Elrohir placed a warm hand on the quivering muscles before reaching lower to fondle his still-soft cock.
With the ice now melting rapidly inside him, Elladan gave a nervous little cry and looked over at the towels his brother had brought for them. Elrohir reached over to snag them up, and as Elladan used the last of his fading strength to lift his rear, his twin slipped the thick soft pad beneath him, easing his worries about soaking the bed.
Eyes fixed on his baby brother, Elrohir gracefully stood up and shed his clothes with swift, minimal movements, until he was naked in the bronzy firelight. His slender Elfhood reached out eagerly for his little love, lying on the bed and sucking ruefully on his fingertips, his wet bottom making him feel as vulnerable as an infant. As Elladan reached up to Elrohir, the dominant young Elf swept down over him, settling between his spread legs and gazing into his passion-dark eyes. Elladan whimpered softly, stroking his twin's strong back, telling him without words that he was ready, that he was always ready.
And at last, Elrohir could hold back his love no longer, and began the slow, blissful slide into his brother's warm nest. It felt so right, so natural - fusing back together the way they had been in the beginning, before the World had so cruelly torn them apart. The rhythm came to them easily, as it always had, a deep and fluid motion in time with their shared heartbeat. With clasped hands, their aching bodies sought release, moving faster and faster until they cried out together. Spilling the silvery proof of their love, they collapsed together in a sated shipwreck of limbs. With a last deep and loving kiss, the twins rolled a little to find a comfortable position to sleep, trying as they always did to stay joined even as Elrohir softened within his brother. As their breathing slowed, they slipped as one into the cloudy world of their dreams.
******
The round eye of the moon was riding high in the blue-black Rivendell sky when Elrond chanced by to check on his much-adored sons. His shock at discovering the twins were lovers had long since faded, to be replaced by honest admiration at the tenderness they shared. Pushing the door of Elrohir's room open just a little, he saw before him a graceful tableau that never failed to take his breath away. Moonlight from the long windows battled with firelight from the dying embers in the hearth, over the sculpted bodies of the twins clasping each other even in their dreams. They lay amid a sea of white and silver fur, and on the soft pillows, a shared halo of dark hair gleamed in the fiery glow from the grate, framing faces of peaceful content.
Elrond paused in the doorway just for a moment, long enough to drink in the sight and commit it to memory. It was true that the world of the Elves was changing day by day, as the sun rose and the snow fell about them, and many sought something to cling to, like a rock in a fast-moving stream. Elladan and Elrohir had chosen each other, and seeing them together Lord Elrond knew that their choice was right. Nothing could divide them, and they would need the strength of their love in the darkening days ahead, whose chill Elrond already felt beyond the mere frosts of winter.
'Sleep, little ones,' he whispered to the identical angels who, with their beloved sister Arwen, held his heart in their hands.
And, like a robed shadow in the night, he was gone.