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AGASTOPIA: The Endurance of First Impressions

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After spending half the night tied up in sacks that reeked of rot and offal and several hours combing through a troll hoard, the entire company was in desperate need of a bath - the hobbit most of all having been used as a troll’s handkerchief.
 
“There is a river a short distance away,” Gandalf assured them once Dori’s complains had begun to cause Fíli to contemplate the pros and cons of gagging him.
 
There was a mutual agreement to detour to the river to clean off and refill the water skins, the water from the farmer’s well now being considered suspect given its proximity to the trolls.
 
“It will take us no more than an hour out of our way,” Gandalf assured a frowning Thorin.  “And Orcs hunt by scent, at this rate they will be able to track you with ease.”
 
Fíli was quick to note that although Thorin had been against the delay in the first place, he was one of the first in the water, leaving his leathers on the bank in the sunshine and wading in in shirt and underthings, which he pulled off to dunk into the fresh flowing water.
 
Bilbo had opted to strip on the bank and scrub his clothing with sand in the shallows, seemingly reluctant to go more than knee deep as he splashed.  Fíli was curious to see that, unlike a dwarf, he had little hair other than that on his head and feet, his chest was as bare as his chin.
 
“They are a strange sort of folk, these hobbits,” Kíli said, coming up beside him with an armful of clothing.  “I wonder how they keep warm in winter?”
 
Fíli shrugged, and then ducked behind Kíli as Bombur took a running start from the bank to cannonball into the deeper water, splashing the entire party - including Gandalf who had been leaning against a willow tree enjoying his pipe.  Kíli was splashed full in the face and responded to Fíli’s laughter by quickly dunking the clothes he held before throwing the mass of sopping fabric over Fíli’s head.
 
The resulting water fight was swift and refreshing, and their clothing was cleaner and free from the stench of troll by the end of it, so Fíli counted it as a success all round even if a rather disgruntled Gandalf did not.
 
The highlight for him had been Bifur and Bofur working together to swing Kíli into the air and toss him into the deepest part of the river with a whoop of delight.  It was their favourite thing to do with their nieces and nephews when the opportunity presented itself and it warmed his heart to have Kíli included in the family ritual - complete with Bombur lurking a short way downstream as back up in case something went wrong.
 
It was a soggy but cheerful party that continued forwards across the plains, wet clothing draped across their saddlebags as they combed their tangles out as best as they could from the saddle, Thorin not wanting to waste any more time.
 
The early summer sunlight was warm and bright and by the time the sun had climbed to noon they were rolling shirts and underthings and stowing them into their packs as they ate cram and Thorin argued with Gandalf over Rivendell.  A crackling in the undergrowth put them all on alert as a strange contraption pulled by a dozen oversized rabbits slid to a halt a short distance away.
 
“Fire!  Foes!  Flee!” Cried the driver, his eyes wide and mad under a hat almost as ridiculous as Bofur’s.  Fíli had his hands on his swords and Kíli had an arrow nocked, but Gandalf stepped forward and greeted the crazy intruder by name, so they relaxed.
 
Fíli didn’t pay all that much attention to the cryptic conversation that ensued, busy helping uncle Bombur pack up the rest of the cram onto the baggage pony.  He had a feeling that they would be moving off in short order.
 
Busy settling the packs evenly, he was taken completely by surprise when the pony startled and took off at a gallop with the rest of the herd.  
 
“Draw your sword,” Bombur instructed tersely.  “Wargs approaching.”
 
With a snarl the first creature bounded into the camp, only to be felled by an arrow in the eye from Kíli.  Reeking of blood and faeces, it fell in a heap of mangy fur at Óin’s feet.
 
“Right then.  What’s the plan?” Glóin asked, the throwing axes that Fíli had forged for him in each hand.  “We can’t outrun them without the ponies.”
 
Radagast proved unexpectedly useful, promising to hold off the fast approaching warg riders as Gandalf led the company out onto the rolling moor.  They did their best to stick together, using the grey stone outcrops as cover as the brown wizard and his creatures wove around them, chased by a pack of howling wargs who seemed unable to resist the scent of rabbit, no matter how their riders berated them.
 
Then suddenly the tall wizard was no where to be seen, although Radagast could be heard whooping somewhere to the south.  
 
“Where did he go?” Balin demanded, looking around.  A snarl from above made Thorin spin round on his heel and the company looked up to see a large warg growling at them from the top of the nearest outcrop.
 
“Kíli, shoot it!” Thorin cried as Kíli drew back his bowstring, loosing two shafts in quick succession.  The warg tumbled backwards out of sight, its growls silenced.  “There will be more shortly,” Thorin predicted grimly.  “Where is that dratted Wizard?”
 
“Down here!” Came a familiar voice, and the company turned as one to see the wizard in question gesturing at them from behind a pile of tumbled stones.  “Come on!”
 
Bofur ran up to investigate.  “There’s a cave of sorts,” he confirmed.  “Come on, we can bottleneck them.”
 
Under Thorin’s direction the dwarves beat a strategic retreat down into the hollow under the stones, Kíli covering them as he shot arrow after arrow at the approaching warg riders.  Fíli had expected Bilbo to be one of the first down, but the little hobbit stayed stubbornly near the entrance, pelting the warg riders with rocks that somehow always seemed to strike at a tender spot.
 
“You have impressive aim,” Fíli told him as he helped Ori slip down into safety. 
 
“Hobbits have competitions about this sort of thing,” Bilbo told him confidently, clipping an orc hard enough on the head that his ill-fitting helmet spun round to obscure his vision.
 
“Come on Kíli, we’re all safe,” Fíli bellowed as Thorin slid past him. He gripped Bilbo by the shoulder as Kíli loosed one last arrow and turned to sprint towards them and pulled the Hobbit with him down into the cave.  They reached the bottom together in a tangle of limbs and quickly scrambled to one side, out of the way of the hasty defensive formation the older dwarrows had assumed.
 
A scuffle at the top of the cave had them all tense, but a moment later a single orc rolled down to land at their feet, an elven arrow protruding from his neck.
 
“I suppose that takes care of that then,” Balin said seriously. 
 
“There’s a passage at the back of the cave!” Glóin called. “Should we follow it or no?”
 
“Follow it of course,” Bofur said, pushing forward.  “I don’t fancy going back up there, and it’s going the right way.”
 
Fíli saw that Tharkun had an odd, amused look on his face as the dwarves filed past him, but Bofur was calling his name and he didn’t have time to ask him what exactly he found so amusing about being set on by orcs.  Perhaps it was that they had been saved by elves.
 
The path they followed was narrow, open to the sky in places although in others it turned into a passageway hewn through the rock.  And it clearly had been hewn, skilfully at that, into the bedrock below the moorlands.
 
“Definitely Dwarvish,” Óin said loudly as he looked at the walls.  
 
But Fíli was not so sure.  He knew of no Dwarvish settlements in that part of the world, and he saw that Balin and strangely enough Ori also looked unconvinced when the rest of the company began to loudly agree with Óin.
 
He was not surprised when they emerged some hours later, halfway up the side of a cliff overlooking the valley of Rivendell.


 
 
The Elves made reasonable hosts, in Fíli’s opinion.  They split the company two to a room, apart from Bilbo and Thorin who were offered separate chambers.  Fíli and Kíli took this opportunity to room together and were taken by a tall elf named Lindir to a room in one of the towers.  It had a lovely view of the waterfall, although it had rather more windows than Fíli was quite comfortable with.  Kíli seemed happy enough with the height, so he resolved to keep quiet about his own misgivings.
 
“Dinner will be served at sunset,” Lindir told them calmly before sweeping silently from the room.
 
“Alone at last,” Kíli said as he shed his outer layers with a sigh.  “I didn’t think we’d get to see Rivendell, Uncle was so adamantly against it.”
 
“Glad we’re here despite him?” Fíli asked, sitting on a carved chest to remove his boots.  There was a bathing room through a small archway and he was determined to take full advantage of it.
 
“Yes, I always was curious about elves,” Kíli revealed, wandering around the room, shedding clothes as he went.  Fíli had a sudden insight as to how his room in Erid Luin had ended up in such a state.  He watched in amusement as the younger dwarf wandered into the bathing room, pulling his shirt off as he did.  “Hey!  This is a neat way to heat water if you don’t have hot springs.”
 
Fíli followed after him, abandoning boots and coat on the chest.  The dark haired dwarf was examining a small charcoal brazier that was baking several smooth stones.
 
“I think you fill the bath or sink with cold water, and then drop the hot stones in to warm the water,” he said.  “Quite efficient, when you think about it.”
 
“Let’s give it a go then,” Fíli suggested, turning to the bath to figure out how to fill it.  “I don’t intend to go to dinner with the elves smelling like this.”
 
The bath was quite easy to figure out, a gravity pipe system fed from a rainwater reservoir on the roof.  The water was cool but not freezing as it poured in, and smelt fresh and clear rather than stagnant.
 
“This is a little bit of luxury,” he pointed out as Kíli inspected the small wooden boxes on a shelf at the end of the bath.  “I suppose one good thing has come from elves being so tall, we’ll both easily fit in the tub.”
 
“There are three different soaps here,” Kíli told him with a wide grin.  “Luxury indeed.  I wonder if this is what it will be like to be Princes in Erebor.”
 
Fíli shrugged.  “Maybe.  The royal family probably have a hall all to themselves with all the luxuries Erebor has to offer.  The floor is probably covered in sheets of gold.”
 
Kíli pulled a face at the thought of that.  “I like a dark bathroom,” he said.  “Too many reflective surfaces and I get to see all my bad angles at once.”
 
Fíli reached out and wrapped his arms around the younger dwarf, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.  “As far as I’m concerned you don’t have any bad angles,” he declared.  “And I’m the elder, so you should listen to me.  Think the tub is full enough?”
 
“Should be,” Kíli said, reaching over to stop the flow of water.  “I saw some tongs for the stones.  How long do you think they’ll take to heat the water?”
 
Fíli shrugged.  “No idea.  We’ll have to wait in here and keep on testing it.”
 
Kíli dropped the stones in one by one, grinning as each disappeared with a hiss of steam and a sudden flurry of bubbles.  Fíli couldn’t help but grin at the picture he made, clad only in his grimy underthings as he bounced around like a dwarfling at a solstice party.
 
Fíli stripped off the rest of his outfit, having already seen that the elves had left some clean garments on the bed to change into.  They would fit badly, but it would be better than the travel stained outfits they had arrived in.  The elves would surely have a way to clean clothes, or they could just dump everything in the bath and scrub at it.  He wasn’t sure he was entirely comfortable with the idea of some strange elf touching his underthings.
 
“Now we wait,” Kíli announced once the stones had all bubbled their way to the bottom of the bathtub.  He tucked this thumbs into his waistband and smirked.  “Any idea as to how we could pass the time?” He asked as he pulled the fabric down slowly.
 
“I might have a few,” Fíli said thoughtfully as he reached out to pull Kíli in for a long kiss.
 
They were both hard and ready by the time they climbed into the warm water, Fíli unable to hold back a gasp as his sensitive cock was submerged. Kíli grinned, reaching into the left hand box to pull out a bar of soap that smelt of rosemary as he worked it into a lather between his hands.
 
“May I?” He asked, his bobbing erection breaching the surface of the bath water.  Fíli nodded, turning to present his back, but soapy hands on his shoulders twisted him back around again.  “I want to wash all of you, not your back,” Kíli explained as he ran his fingers over Fíli’s chest, circling his nipples in a gentle tease.  He cleaned him thoroughly as Fíli sat back in the warm water and watched him, fingers seeming to caress every inch of skin. 
 
Once Fíli was convinced that he was cleaner than he had ever been before, Kíli climbed onto Fíli’s lap to work soap into his braids, unravelling them gently and setting his beads on the shelf to be dealt with later.  “I love your hair,” Kíli murmured as he worked his hands through it.  “It’s like golden sunshine, Kidhuzurâlê, I see why they call you that.  May I braid it for you?”
 
“After I’ve washed you in return,” Fíli answered immediately, gripping Kíli’s hips and using the leverage to press their groins together.  “We might want to take care of this as well.”
 
“There’s oil in the room,” Kíli whispered as he pressed forward with a shiver.  “Once we’re clean I thought we might take advantage of the bed.”
 
Fíli looked up into his dark eyes in surprise.  “Are you sure?” He asked.
 
Kíli nodded resolutely.  “I’m sure.  I want you,” he said quietly.  “I don’t know if - maybe not all the way, not this first time?  But I want to, with you.  I want you to touch me.  I mean, if you want to.”
 
“Oh, I want to,” Fíli assured him.   “Let me rinse this soap off so I can start showing you just how much.”
 
 
Falling into the elven bed together was somewhat reminiscent of what Fíli imagined lying on a cloud would feel like, complete with billowing snow white sheets.  He lay still for a moment and allowed himself to just exist, savouring the moment.  He was clean and unhurt and more turned on than he had ever been in his life before at the thought of the things that Kíli had asked him to do as they bathed in the warm water.
 
The mattress shifted as Kíli climbed onto the bed with far more grace than Fíli’s own manoeuvre had managed.  He was holding a small ceramic bottle from the bathing room in one hand and looked simultaneously aroused and nervous as he shuffled forwards on his knees, his hard prick bobbing with the movement.
 
Unable to resist with such an opportunity at eye level, Fíli rolled forward to take the flushed head of his brother’s cock into his mouth.
 
“Mahal, Fíli!” Kíli swore, nearly dropping the oil.
 
“Sorry!” Fíli apologised as he drew back.  “You just looked too delicious.”
 
“Oh, so it’s my fault, is it?” Kíli demanded, placing the bottle safely on the bedside table.  “I’m irresistible, is that what you’re saying?”
 
“Completely and utterly, kurkarithê,” Fíli assured him, pulling him closer for a kiss.  “I love the way you taste on my tongue.”
 
“Oh?” Kíli said, raising one dark eyebrow.  “Now that we’re clean, I have imagined tasting you in other places.”  Fíli frowned at him in confusion as Kíli’s dark eyes glanced meaningfully downwards.  They had already had their mouths on each other many times during the journey, what could Kíli possibly be referring to?  The answer came to him in a rush and he bit his lip as he realised just what Kíli had been fantasising about.
 
“There you go,” the younger dwarf murmured.  “May I?  I don’t wish to make you uncomfortable.”
 
“You promise to stop if I don’t like it?” Fíli asked, knowing the answer but feeling suddenly vulnerable and craving reassurance.  He hoped that Kíli would not think him a coward, but his need to hear the promise for himself outweighed his fear.
 
“Of course,” Kíli said, taking his hand and entwining their fingers.  “Anything we do should be enjoyed equally, otherwise there is no point.  I promise to stop if you ask.”
 
“Have… have you done this before?” Fíli asked, dreading the answer but feeling that he needed to know before they progressed further.  Kíli blushed and shook his head.
 
“No, not myself,” he said quietly.  “But I had a friend who had, he told me about it in great detail, until we were both hard in our breeches - but when he tried to touch me it didn’t feel right.  Although his words had excited me, his hands, his scent did not.  You are the first to touch me like this, Fíli, kidhuzurâlê.  You are the first I have wanted to touch me like this.”
 
“For me as well,” Fíli was quick to reassure him.  “I only asked because, well, because you seemed to know more than I do, and it made me wonder.”
 
“Well, now you know,” Kíli said with a weak smile.  Fíli wormed his way closer through the snowy sheets until he was within kissing range and proceeded to kiss Kíli vigorously, placing large, noisy kisses over his nose and cheeks until Kíli was laughing and pushing him away.
 
Pleased that the solemn mood had been effectively broken, Fíli smiled into his brother’s laughing eyes.  “You can do it to me,” he confirmed.  “And then I shall do it to you, and then we will see how we go from there.”
 
“What if it makes you come?” Kíli asked, chewing on his lip.  “I mean, should I continue or hold back?”
 
Fíli glanced out of the nearest window to judge the position of the sun.  “I think that might be a good idea, we don’t have that much time before dinner,” he said.  “We can always play again after.  Do we know how long we’re staying here?”
 
“A few days at least, I think,” Kíli smiled, pushing up onto his knees and guiding Fíli into raising his hips.  “We should have plenty of time to play.”
 
 
 
They made their way to the dining room,  smiling and sated, as the sky darkened to shades of blue and purple.  The elves had lit sweet scented candles in twisted glass holders around the open plaza where the meal was set, and most of the company were already present.  All were dressed in clean linen shirts with the sleeves rolled up many times, and soft leggings that strained over their sturdy calves and pooled around their ankles.
 
“I don’t suppose there’s any chance that you came across our ponies on your way back from slaughtering the orcs?” Ori asked the nearest elf hopefully.  “Only most of my writing supplies were in my saddlebag.”
 
“I shall ask the guard captain to have his patrols keep an eye out for your beasts,” the elf said stiffly.
 
The meal had more greenery than Fíli was used to seeing on a table, but the hobbit seemed cheerful enough and the bread was fresh and flavoured with herbs.
 
“Oh dear,” Kíli said after he had taken a bite.  “They make better bread than we do, I may never be satisfied again.”
 
“Maybe uncle Bombur will learn how to make it.”  Fíli looked down the table.  “Uncle?  What do you think of the bread?”
 
Bombur grinned at him with his mouth full.  “If Master Elrond is agreeable, I will visit his kitchens!” he shouted back.
 
Fíli looked over to where Tharkûn, Elrond and Thorin sat at a separate table.  Thorin was frowning at his sword and Fíli hoped that he wasn’t offending their host.  After the way he had behaved in Bilbo’s home Fíli wasn’t sure that he had had the usual lessons in guest etiquette from his teachers - or maybe he hadn’t paid attention.
 
Perhaps if he had the chance, Fíli could thank Elrond himself. The master of Rivendell could have turned them away after all, from what Thorin and Balin had been saying about Elves on the journey that would have been more expected than a welcome.
 
But then Fíli remembered Khelebrimbor and his work with Narvi and wondered again if all the complaining about elves was specific to those in the Greenwood.  Not all Dwarves were the same after all, why would the elves be?
 
“Perhaps we should have a song of Narvi and Khelebrimbor after the meal?” Fíli suggested to Bofur.  “To honour our hosts.”
 
Bofur gave him an approving smile.  “I like the way you think, nephew!  Have you tried the white cheese?  It’s delicious.  Makes the green shit more palatable.”
 
After the plates were cleared and Kíli had had to talk him out of clobbering Ori for his complaints about the food, Elrond led the way to the hall of fire for songs and stories.
 
Bilbo, surprisingly enough, started them off, with a song he claimed he had been composing on the journey.
 
Roads go ever ever on,
Over rock and under tree, 
By caves where never sun has shone,
By streams that never find the sea;
Over snow by winter sown,
And through the merry flowers of June
Over grass and over stone,
And under mountains in the moon.
 
“It’s not quite finished yet,” the hobbit said bashfully with his thumbs in his pockets.  “Still, as a little offering I hope it suffices.”
 
“It does indeed, Master Baggins,” Elrond assured him.  “A fine verse indeed.”
 
The elves sang next, their high voices soaring together over the crackling fire in the centre of the hall.  Bofur walked through the group of dwarves talking in a low whisper, and by the time the elven music drew to a crescendoing finish, six dwarrows stepped forward to sing.  Bofur took the lead, with Fíli providing the tenor and Bombur and Bifur the bass.  Glóin and Nori had also chosen to sing, but the rest of the company held back, watching the surrounding elves with wary eyes.
 
“Come on lads,” Bofur said with an encouraging smile.  “Let’s do our people proud, eh?  We may have lost the instruments with the ponies, but we can still make music.”
 
Bifur and Bofur started a low hum as Fíli stamped the beat, Glóin and Nori quickly joining in.
 
Follow the way up the stair
To smooth grey rock and ithildin fair
A legacy you will see there
From true Khelebrimbor
 
For seven days and seven nights
Through burning sun and midges bites
 They left their mark upon the heights
Narvi and Khelebrimbor
 
Ignoring those whose mutters loud
Rose above the gathered crowd
Hand in hand they stood, then bowed
Narvi and Khelebrimbor
 
A masterpiece in silver’d stone
Protects the lands we call our own
Throughout the halls we make our home
We remember Khelebrimbor
 
Long days have passed since we broke bread
Or wove patterns with mithril thread
Though now the halls are dark and dead
We remember Khelebrimbor
 
One day we will climb the stair
To smooth grey rock and ithlin fair
Their masterwork awaits us there
Narvi and Khelebrimbor
 
 
There was silence for a long moment after the last note died away, and then Elrond stepped forward and bowed to Bofur, followed by the rest of the elves in the hall.  
 
“A tale I had not heard before,” Elrond said quietly.  “I thank you for sharing it with us in this hall of fire.  It gladdens my heart to know that the great craftspeople of the past are honoured in your history as well as our own.”
 
Bofur smiled up at the tall elf.  “Narvi was our ancestor,” he said, gesturing to include Bifur, Bombur and Fíli in the statement.  “We may have lost our ancestral halls, but we are proud of our heritage.”
 
“If you are moved to share more stories from Khazad-dûm during your visit here, I would be happy to hear them,” Elrond told them all, before sweeping off to direct the elven choir in another aria.
 
Fíli turned to find Thorin frowning at them, but for once he seemed more thoughtful than angry so Fíli decided it was safe enough to ignore him for now.  Kíli was sitting beside him, his dark eyes reflecting the firelight as he listened to the music.
 
“You sang well,” Thorin said as he sat down next to his brother.
 
“We do a lot of singing at home.  I like it,” Fíli shrugged.
 
“Do you play an instrument as well?  I learnt the harp when we were in Erebor but I haven’t played for years now.”
 
“I play the fiddle, with more enthusiasm than skill, I’m sorry to say,” Fíli told him, rearranging the cushion he was leaning against.  “Did anyone tell you about the ponies?”
 
Thorin frowned.  “What about them?”
 
“Ori asked one of the elves if their patrol had seen them on the way back to Rivendell, and the elf said that they’d ask the patrol leader to keep an eye out.”
 
“That was a good idea,” Thorin said, casting an appraising look at Ori.
 
“Don’t be too impressed,” Kíli said with a smile.  “I think Ori was more concerned with getting his writing supplies back than the rest of our gear.”
 
“Still, we can hope that not everything we brought with us has been lost.”
 
Kíli stretched and yawned.  “I’m beat,” he said, winking at Fíli.  “Think I’ll turn in for the night.  How about you, nadad?”
 
“That bed did look considerably more comfortable than the ground,” Fíli agreed.
 
“Sleep well, namadul,” Thorin said absently, his attention on a group of elves entering the hall.
 
The passages and walkways of Rivendell were twisty and confusing, so Fíli was quite pleased that they only took two wrong turns as they made their way to their room.  He was less impressed when he realised that someone had come in and removed the clothing that they had piled into a corner to deal with later.
 
“I didn’t want elves touching my underthings!” He groaned as headed into the bathing room to splash his face and hands with clean water.
 
“They’ll smell better when we get them back at least,” Kíli pointed out, sounding entirely unconcerned.  “I was worried that they’d make the room reek.”
 
“Little worry of that, with all these windows,” Fíli muttered as he dried off.  He picked a bottle of bath oil from the shelf and sniffed at it, pleased when it smelt more like a pine forest than flowers.  The one that Kili had found earlier had reeked of lavender.
 
“That’ll do,” Kíli said quietly, padding up next to him in bare feet.
 
Fíli had a feeling that he would never look at a pine forest in the same way again.  Kíli twined their fingers together and led him to the oversized elven bed.  “I’m glad we’re here, for this,” he said quietly as he turned his dark eyes towards the bottle in Fíli’s hand.
 
“Why?” Fíli asked, setting it on the table in order to climb onto the soft mattress.
 
“It makes it all the more special,” Kíli explained, dropping light kisses onto his shoulder.  Fíli lay back as the younger dwarf pressed him to the mattress.  “Did you enjoy our play earlier?”
 
Fíli licked his lips as he remembered the way that the soft, yielding flesh of Kíli’s hole give way under his tongue.  “I did.”
 
“Did you prefer it when I licked you or the other way around?  What did you think of just now?”
 
“Me licking you,” Fíli gasped as Kíli’s lips closed around his nipple.
 
Once the sensitive nub had been licked into a hard peak, Kíli sat back with a satisfied smile.  “Me too.  I think I’d like you to take me tonight.”
 
Fíli blinked at him.  “What?  That’s how you decided?”
 
Kíli shrugged.  “Seemed as good a method as any,” he said, reaching for the oil.  “We’re both thinking of you being inside me, not the other way around after all.”
 
“What if we had thought about different things?” Fíli protested as Kíli drizzled oil onto his hard cock.  “And shouldn’t I be stretching you with my fingers first?”
 
“I guess if we had wanted different things, we would have had a longer conversation about it,” Kíli said sensibly.  “And no, I don’t want your fingers this time.  We’ll go slow.”
 
“I… I don’t want to hurt you,” Fíli said uncertainly.  His dick was hard and ready, shining with oil in the candlelight, but he held firm to Kíli’s hips to stop him from moving. 
 
“You won’t, we’ll go slow,” Kíli repeated with a smile.  He picked up one of Fíli’s hands and spread their fingers together.  “Anyhow, I think your cock is considerably smoother than your fingers, it’ll go in easier than they will.”
 
Fíli regarded his work roughened hands in dismay.  “I-”
 
“I didn’t meant it like that!” Kíli said hastily, ducking to press a kiss to Fíli’s fingertips.  “I love your hands, they feel good on my skin and in my hair.  I just don’t think they’re the best tool for this particular job.”
 
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Fíli said firmly.  “So, you control the pace.  I can brace you easily enough.”
 
“Your smithing muscles are a thing of beauty and before we leave Rivendell I will have kissed and licked each and every one,” Kíli vowed as he shuffled forward from his seat on the blond’s thighs with Fíli bracing his hands to help him balance.  His hard cock swayed with the movement, the wet tip sparkling in the flickering light.  Fíli wanted to taste it, but Kíli stopped long before he was in range.
 
“Can you, ah, hold it ready?” Kíli asked, his cheeks flushed with embarrassed excitement.   He changed his grip to hold Fíli’s right hand with both of his, freeing his left to reach down and point his oiled cock in the right direction.
 
“Ok, move when you want to,” Fíli encouraged once he had as firm a grip as he could manage, given the slick oil coating his member.
 
A hot, tight band slowly gave way around him as Kíli sank down with quivering thighs.  Fíli groaned at the sensation as his cock was enveloped in yielding warmth.  
 
“Mahal, that feels incredible,” he gasped, forcing his eyes open.  “Are you ok?”
 
Kíli was watching his face hungrily, biting his lip and Fíli reached out with his slightly oily hand to steady him.  “I’m all right,” the brunette assured him.  “It’s not- I’m not in pain.  Just a bit uncomfortable.  I think it will be better when I’m ready to move.”
 
Fíli shifted to place his feet flat on the mattress for leverage and Kíli’s eyes widened as his cock visibly jumped.  “Oh!  I think- move again?”
 
Fíli thrust up shallowly and Kíli’s eyes fluttered closed as he let out a low gasp.  “More, please,” he whispered, his grip on Fíli’s hand tightening as he began to rock back and forth.  Fíli tensed his arms to provide as firm a base as he could manage in that position and gave into the urge to thrust.  This wasn’t the same as their other lovemaking, he didn’t have to worry about keeping his hips still in case he suffocated his partner.  Something primal moved within him as they settled into a rhythm and Kíli’s quiet noises filled his ears.
 
“Kee,” he whispered as he looked into his brother’s dark brown eyes.  “I think you’re my one.”
 
Kíli’s mouth dropped open in shock as a bright flush reddened his cheeks.  He jerked a little, and then muttered a curse as he started to orgasm, painting long stripes across Fíli’s chest.  The spasms travelled through his whole body, constricting the muscles that sheathed Fíli’s cock and he also tipped over the edge, shuddering as he felt the overflow start to drip down his stones.
 
Kíli slumped on top of him and pressed his hot forehead into his shoulder as he caught his breath, not seeming to care when Fíli’s softening cock slipped out of him, or that his own semen was matting their chest hair together.
 
“I… I meant to last a little longer,” he said, his voice muffled by Fíli’s skin.  “But then you said that and I - did you mean it?”
 
“Of course I meant it,” Fíli assured him, wrapping his arms around Kíli’s shoulders.  “It wasn’t the heat of the moment, well, sorry it was, but I meant it.”
 
Kíli pulled back to look at him, a wondering smile softening the edges of his mouth.  “I… I think you are my one too,” he whispered.  “I never thought I- I’ve never felt…”
 
“We fit together,” Fíli said, tracing nonsense patterns across Kíli’s skin.  “It’s like you’ve filled a place within me I didn’t know was empty.  Do you…?”
 
“Yes,” Kíli said, nodding.  “It feels like that for me too.”
 
Fíli rolled them both over and pressed a kiss to Kíli’s lips.  “You lie there and relax, I’ll get a damp cloth to wipe us down so we can sleep comfortably,” he said, slipping off of the bed.
 
A few minutes later, cleaner and slightly damp, they slid between the snowy sheets and lay on their sides, their heads on one oversized pillow.
 
“I’d tell the whole of Arda if I could,” Kíli whispered.  “I want you to know that.”
 
Fíli smiled.  “I’m not the shout-it-from-the-rooftops type, but for you I would make an exception.  If we could.”
 
Kíli shut his eyes with a smile on his face, and after taking a moment to memorise his expression, Fíli did the same.  Sleep claimed them quickly as the crescent moon set over the valley of Rivendell.