#eredhon

    Galion raised an eyebrow.  “Heat lamp it is.”  His mouth quirked but he refrained from the grin Thranduil was certain was lurking.  “I’ll be sure to airbrush out the, er, effect the air is having.”

    Thranduil glanced at Bard in his designer clothes and swallowed.  Ah.  The chill was indeed affecting the man.  Through the thin cloth, he could make out the man’s erect nipples, and for a moment, pitied the discomfort he was likely suffering.  Even while his eyes remained drawn to the image.  His blood warmed and it took effort to look away.  “Do that,” he murmured.

    “Must we?” Eredhon wheedled.  He, unlike the rest, was perfectly tucked away in a thick winter coat.  “It makes him so much more . . . virile.”

    “Eredhon, not everyone wears their lust on their sleeve,” Galion drawled.

Like Sigrid herself, the reception was anything but formal.  She trotted around the guests, barefoot in a slimmer version of her lustrous white gown, Fili in constant tow.

Bard couldn’t have been happier.  He could, however, had been more comfortable.  Near the bar, Thranduil a short distance away, he fidgeted, wondering if the elf had played a harmless joke on him by claiming the suit was perfectly cut.  It clung too close and he felt squeezed, as though never able to draw a full breath.

He sighed and lifted his champagne flute.  Not much longer, right?  He wondered if Sigrid would be put out if he slipped away to change into his more comfortable clothing.

Never mind that those clothes prompted this ridiculous idea in the first place, he admitted.  A few more hours was an easy sacrifice for his eldest.  Maybe if he drank enough he’d forget he was in such trappings.

He jumped at the sharp whistle, spilling a bit of liquid down his lapel.  He smiled at Haldir though it slipped quickly.  His friend had that look.  The one that rarely ended well for Bard.  The elf was up to something and doubtful anything good would stem from it.

“Bard,” he mused, his eyes making a show of dragging the length of Bard, “you certainly clean up well.”

Bard chuckled as he dabbed as his lapel.  “Well, anything for Sigrid.”

He stiffened when Haldir leaned closer.  “Reminds me of college.  You remember?  Finals week?”

“Finals week?”

Bard blushed at Thranduil’s question.  The elf’s silver eyes were warm but wary.  And Bard’s heart stuttered at the look.  He swallowed and batted at Haldir, fumbling at the other elf’s shoulder.  “Er, it’s nothing.”

Haldir snorted.  “Nothing?!”  The elf took a long pull of his beer before he sighed, wistful.  “How can you say it was nothing?”  He reached out with one hand, pinching Bard’s chin gently between thumb and forefinger.  “Seeing you like this, reminds me of why I enjoyed that night.”

Bard’s heart shriveled and dove for his knees.  “Uh, H-Haldir,” he tried to laugh, making more an odd wheeze.  “Th-that was . . . years ago,” he protested.  

“What was ‘years ago,’?” Thranduil asked.  It was clear the question was meant to be curious but Bard knew his old friend; there was a bitter edge to the brief words.

Bard turned to face the elf.  “O-oh.  You know.  Er, youthful . . . indiscretion?”  Rather than appease him, it seemed to annoy Thranduil given the faint downturn of his lips.  Gods help him, Bard wanted a hole to crawl into.  Here Thranduil was deliciously resplendent in expensive silks and cotton, blond hair in a loose ponytail, and Haldir was revisiting that?!  He smiled weakly as he batted away Haldir’s hand.  “Nothing, honestly.  Just . . . um, old friends.”

Old friends.  Old friends?!  He took a deeper gulp of his champagne, nearly draining the glass.  Why don’t I just say to him, ‘you know, like us?’  Kill any chance of anything.

Giving him no quarter, even as Bard silently begged him to bloody well shut up, Haldir went on.  Bard gave him a sharp glare, catching sight of Legolas and Galion approaching.  He didn’t need one of his oldest friends recounting a romp in front of his crush and said friend’s husband.    

“Bard, did I ever tell you how much I treasured that night?”

The wheeze turned into a hiss.  Was it possible to see one’s life flash before their eyes?  “What are you talking about?” he whined.

Haldir’s eyes turned toward the ceiling as he sighed again, fanning whatever nostalgia he seemed to be carrying.  “You were . . . gods, so . . . responsive.”

Bard’s vision went blank.  What are you talking about, you bastard?!  

“Responsive.”  Thranduil’s presence loomed an inch or so behind Bard.  “You . . . were lovers?”

Not thinking, Bard spun, his hand slapping Thranduil’s chest.  “No!  I mean, it was . . . one night.  We were . . . curious and --” he stopped, his tongue turning to wool.  What is happening here?  When did Haldir decide to become his mortal enemy?

He scrunched up his shoulders when Haldir’s nuisance fingers tangled with the curls at the nape of his neck.  “I suppose . . . curious is accurate.  Oh, but Bard . . . I’ve never really forgotten.  It was such a lovely and . . . long night.”

“Haldir,” he bit out, turning back around.  “I think you’ve had too much to drink.”

Haldir’s hand stroked his cheek and Bard stumbled.  “It’s never been that good with anyone else,” he pointed out.

Bard pinched his nose, trying not to hyperventilate.  “You’re married,” he reminded him.

Haldir shrugged.  “There’s always your first.”

Bard’s face could set the curtains on fire at this point.  What was he getting at?!  From what Bard recalled, it was two nineteen-year-olds fumbling with their cocks and barely understanding what went where and for how long.  A messy, silly, frustrating night.  Not . . . whatever the hell Haldir seemed to be thinking.

“So,” Thranduil mused, voice thick, “the two of you were . . . quite close after all.”

I am literally in hell, Bard whined.  

“Ooh, are we recounting one-night stands?” Eredhon chirped as he bounced up, dragging Feren and Lindir along with him.  Given his overly bright eyes, Eredhon had been to the bar repeatedly already.

The elf preened and said, “Did I ever tell you about the night Thranduil rawed me stupid one night?”

“Erk!”

Bard blinked and glanced over, surprised to see Thranduil’s face white as a sheet.  Thranduil . . . and Eredhon?  He blinked again, imagining his taciturn friend with someone as over-the-top as Eredhon.  And . . . Thranduil on the giving end.  His cheeks burned hotter and he threw back the last of his champagne in an effort to distract himself.

Galion raised an eyebrow but said nothing, even as Eredhon chuckled in near-manic glee.

“Oh, Arda, yes!  He was . . .” Eredhon’s grin turned wicked, “insatiable.”

Thranduil cleared his throat, a touch of color high in his cheeks.  “I hardly think that is appropriate --”

Eredhon fluttered his hand before Thranduil, clearly not caring.  “I couldn’t walk for days!”  He gave Thranduil a coy look.  “Who knew you had that in you.”

A synapse in Bard’s brain flared and automatically reached for two flutes of champagne as a waiter wandered by, downed one and gripped the other tight.  He certainly did not need an image of a . . . ravishing Thranduil driving into . . . into . . . he choked and coughed, nearly dropping his two glasses.

And he did not whimper when Thranduil’s familiar hand patted his back.  “Are you all right?” the elf whispered, leaning in.

Bard turned slightly, staring into those familiar, icy eyes.  That warmth he’d always known turned them to soft steel and Bard smiled, weak though it was.  “I’m o-okay,” managed, swallowing air.  He smiled again, stronger now.  “Possibly a bit tipsy.”

“Oh, you know, Bard never could hold his liquor.”

Bard’s smile dropped and he glared at his friend.  “That’s not true.”

“Oh?”  Haldir preened.  “I seem to remember one night, you wasted and suggesting things.”  He winked.  “Involving . . . cuffs and . . . a whip?”

Bard’s mouth dropped open.

anyways

new headcanon for shits and giggles that only piss-drunk people can see redh’s sparkles

She could just barely clasp her hands around her mouth in time to stop herself from screaming and waking the ellon next to her. By the Valar.. what time was it even? The sun hadn’t shown itself across the horizon yet and she could hear no birds chirping as the warrior elleth let herself slide out of the bed she shared with her fiancé, sitting there for a moment before getting up. Amathel hated these dreams. These horrid dreams in which every possible thing that could go wrong on a wedding day went disastrously wrong- wrong clothes, or falling in her high heels that she couldn’t walk on- or even worse and more recently occurring in her dreams: that she was watching him marry someone completely else. That one didn’t even make any sense, Lagoron was the most loyal ellon she had ever met in her life- and yet that particular version of this nightmare haunted her most. She hadn’t even realized she had wandered into the gardens of Imladris when she sat down and hid her face in her hands, unable to stop the tears from pouring as fear and anxiety rampaged in her heart- She felt like she was going crazy over this. But she couldn’t delay this wedding once more, Amathel knew within her heart that while Lagoron was a mellow person… it would make anyone doubt their partner if she delayed this wedding again for the fourth time just because she kept freaking out over it. “Amathel?” The voice sounded from so far away that it took her a bit to reply, looking up to look straight in the soft, dark blue eyes of her brother in law.. the husband of her eldest sister. Eredhon. He tilted his head, quietly sitting beside her on the bench. “Hey, what’s the matter?” “I can’t do this, Eredhon! I can’t go through with this wedding when I keep having these horrendous nightmares- I just can’t! It’ll be an utter disaster!” “Hey, wow, come on now.” He hushed, wrapping an arm around the younger elleth’s shoulders and lightly pulling her into an embrace. “Talk to me. What happens in these nightmares that have gotten you in such despair?” he asked, gently rubbing her arm to soothe her as she buried her face in his shoulder “Everything! Everything from me breaking my neck because of some faulty shoe or dress I can’t move in to him cheating on me or marrying some total stranger and even without those nightmares this whole situation is freaking me out because so many people put so much pressure on me being his wife and not being a good enough wife and needing to have what they see as a perfect wedding night and just thinking about it makes me want to toss myself off a waterfall especially with my mom practically demanding I give her grandkids like immediately and I just- I just can’t- I’m so scared! And everyone keeps telling me that it’s his feelings I should mind and that I need to do this all for him but no one is taking into consideration that it’s my wedding too and I’m beginning to get fucking terrified of even getting married!” Amathel ranted, tears pouring down again as she worked herself in a frenzy while her brother in law wrapped both his arms around her. “Hey, hey. Sssh, you’re getting yourself all worked up. Am, listen to me.” Eredhon spoke softly, gently rubbing her back in an attempt to comfort her. “It’s okay to be scared. I know how stressful the wedding day can be, and how social expectation can really bother you- I suppose that with both of you being in the royal guard the expectations are even worse. But Lagoron loves you, Amathel. That is all that matters on a day like that. He loves you, and you love him.” He said, continuing the motion of rubbing her back as he looked up at the stars above. How was he going to explain this to her? “Look, I know Lagoron by now… In fact I’d wager he is the easiest type of person to figure out and get to know. And what I know most of all is that he won’t talk or force you into anything you’re not comfortable with. If you don’t want to have a wedding night as socially expected, I guarantee he won’t even bat an eye at it... But you haven’t really told him any of this, have you? All that scares you about this day, have you ever even discussed it with him?” “… No. I’m scared what he will say- I’m supposed to be strong, Eredhon.” “And he’s supposed to help you be strong. Am, you’re getting married. It takes two for a marriage. Let him in, let him help you- nobody expects you to deal with your worries all on your own.” She sighed, hiding her face in his shoulder once more- but Eredhon had a point. She had kept Lagoron out of her issues for far too long, when really she should have let him in- why was that so hard lately? Amathel frowned, thinking of the time before her engagement. It had seemed so easy back then to share her insecurities and worries with her, so why was it so difficult now. “… I suppose I should… I should get back, anyway. I don’t think it’ll go over well with his instincts as a guard if I suddenly vanish from the bed. But.. what are you doing here at this time, anyway?” “I come here for stargazing when I can’t sleep.. thought taking care of my sister in law is a nice deviation too.” Eredhon said with a smile, ruffling her hair. “Go back to him. Everything will be fine, Amathel.” “Thanks..”

Amathel quietly walked back through the hallways to her shared room with her fiancé- nearly crashing into him as she tried to enter and he tried to leave their room simultaneously, and when he immediately pulled her into an embrace… only then did she realise how cold it had been compared to the warmth of his body. She wrapped her arms around him, taking in his scent as she let out a soft sigh. “Am, I was so worried! I woke up and you were nowhere to be found, I- Hey..” Lagoron said softly, gently stroking her dark hair as he saw how her shoulders shook- Was she crying? He couldn’t recall the last time he had seen her cry. “Meleth..” he whispered softly, guiding her to the bed and sitting down upon it as he pulled her back into his arms, cradling her head against his chest protectively. “What’s wrong, my love?” he asked, lightly kissing the top of her head. “L-Lagoron.. w-we need to talk, meleth nin… please, I-“ “About what?” “About our wedding day… and how scared I am..”

aHHH livilla wow i absolutely love that name too wtf ;_; you should definitely show me them sometime, i would love to see they sound neat!!

eredhon is really big into sweets. he’s not exactly a picky eater (i don’t know if he could be travelling in the jungle, you make do), but his immediate preference is to take anything with some form of sweetener, especially honey! he absolutely adores honey in his drinks, and in addition to meals. sometimes the combinations aren’t the best, but there’s no better way to learn that then try it, in his opinion.