Story Recap: Leth-aon is the elven word for "twin,", but it means so much more, including "husband/wife." Elven twins usually marry each other. It's expected. It's sacred. Nuala reminisced about her past with her brother, the scars and scratches they used to communicate with, and how her father had shielded her heart from sensing or feeling her leth-aon for centuries. It had made her feel empty. Now, after all this time, she can feel Nuada in all his overwhelming rage and desire. And he's coming for her….

But first, a look at their past that led to their present...

Dedication: To Flint and Feather for your extremely lovely and thoughtful review! I hope you continue to like it!

Mo Leth-aon

By Scarlet Willows

Self Discovery Is Not My Own

It was early on the cusp of adulthood, the twins' thig gu aois, that Prince Nuada had been the first to usher them into discovering self-pleasure.

It was springtime, a hallowed time of year for celebrating fertility festivals, procreation, and the blossoming of Cruinne-cè's new life. As the Fae were free in all things related to love and nature and magic, so too was this a time of year reserved only for brave adults to participate in the darker debauchery rituals; naked serpentine orgies gathered around glowing bonfires in the woods to bless of bounty of the land.

This was a time when all elven maidens - in fact, most Fae - were especially fertile. Elven maiden's cycles attuned to the vernal equinox and its fruitful blossoming and then they later bled for a time as the leaves of the autumnal equinox die. During this time of year, the Fae maidens smelled especially of intoxicating, heavenly flowers, luring males out of their senses.

After fifty summers, it had been Nuala's first fertility cycle, the first blessed right of elven womanhood.

Prince Nuada had been practicing heavily with his lance as of late to distract himself from the alluring scents of the womenfolk and thusly he had not seen his sister in a few weeks. Loathe as he was to be parted from her, her ever-present handmaidens stunk of peonies and roses. Much too sweet for his tastes. The palace was large and it was easy to go long periods without seeing anyone, especially when both twins were kept busy with studies. They still scratched at the "love," rune forming a scar in their upper forearm during the nights. The fertility festival would commence tomorrow's eve; a prince would be bombarded by the attentions of desirous Fae emboldened by drink. While it was considered shameful to proposition an elven leth-aon, some behavior was excused during this time of year, especially when it came from cultures ignorant to elven customs. He'd mostly have to battle the attentions of sprites and dryads and other non-elves. The elves knew better. He wasn't particularly giddy at the prospect. He feared it would only upset Nuala, but she had been forgiving of the unintended slights and exceedingly generous while hosting other Fae over the last few decades. He could not say the same.

The festival arrived and everything was bedecked with pastel ribbons, garlands of flowers, sweet pastries and mead at every table, and merry songs and laughter weaving through the air. Fae from other lands were invited to join - the drow, trolls, dryads, sprites, fairies, elementals, centaurs, satyrs, and all manner of species - since the seasons affected them similarly. Much drinking, dancing and cultural exchanges ensued. It was expected that the royal family, their hosts, would appear and King Balor would make a speech at sunset to commence the festivities and feasts.

Nuada was wearing his best sylvan attire, fitted silver cloth and supple gray leathers, intricate enough for a prince and for the occasion, but simple, classic, and comfortable. He cut a strikingly toned figure, even with his muscles hidden beneath the expensive fabric. His white-gold hair was braided in a long cord down his back. His boots clicked on the marble floor as he strode out to meet his father on the terrace, overlooking the feast for the delegates in the courtyard. Though young, he was tall, taller than most, even his father, and he easily surveyed the gathering below as he made small talk with the king.

Nuada was unexpectedly struck with a sense of foreboding, of nervousness, and he recognized it was not his own. He tried to send loving reassurance to his twin through their bond-link as he sensed her approach. His little leth-aon was shy among large crowds, though he felt there was nothing for Nuala to be nervous about. Even though this one marked their official thig gu aois, they'd been to many vernal equinox fertility festivals before. If they had not been leth-aon, this would have been the time they would have received marriage-alliance proposals or been permitted to partake in the debauchery rituals out of polite view.

As Balor began his speech, commanding the attention of all, Nuala sidled up silently on the king's other side. Nuada had only felt his twin's approach as his attention was on their subjects. It was rare for her not to be by his side. so he took special notice of her choice to deliberately stand next to the king instead of him, and he suddenly felt deprived and jealous. His jaw clenched. As Nuala was on his father's other side, he could not see her properly over the king's voluminous cloaks and it would be rude of the prince to peer around during his father's speech.

Nuada's nostrils flared as he centered his anger with calming breaths and he was unexpectedly awestruck at the intense fragrance radiating off of his sister. Even from several feet away, she smelled of trees and earth and rain and jasmine and all that was good in the world. The elven prince couldn't help but breathe it in. Revel in it. Her nervousness washed over him again and this time he understood. She had come into her first fertility cycle. And for his shy leth-aon, this would bring unwanted attention. She'd always spurned the advances of ignorant Fae, but her scent would lead the more persistent straight to her this year. He realized that she was afraid: afraid of what he would think; of what his jealousy would make him do; of the scene Nuada might cause; of the diplomacies he might fracture. Nuada's anger disappeared to be filled with sympathy and compassion. He sent confidence through their bond that Nuala could handle whatever situation arose without his interference. It eased her.

Their father finished his too-lengthy speech, to which the crowd cheered approvingly, but Nuada hadn't heard a word of it. He'd played the attentive, dutiful prince at his king's side, but he was consumed with Nuala's emotions and her new scent. He felt so foolish. He'd been so busy that he'd neglected her and failed to help her in her time of need. Failed to realize she'd needed his support. Nuala was afraid and alone in her first cycle and he hadn't been there for her! How had he not felt it? Perhaps that was why he'd been so agitated as of late? So restless? So on edge? When their father finally moved to mingle with some council members, Nuada finally got his first proper look at his sister.

She was wearing a striking blue. She should wear it more often. So beautiful in blue. It was a floor-length gossamer cobalt silk, trimmed in silver, with flowing butterfly-like sleeves that exposed the shoulders. A matching silver patterned corset hugged her slim waist, accentuating her softly flaring hips. Woman's hips. A simple platinum necklace rested at her décolleté and drew his attention to her plunging neckline, the swell of her young breasts, her graceful neck. His eyes feasted on soft, pale, smooth skin that he'd taken for granted before this moment. Her braid was pulled to the side of one shoulder. Fairies had grown living jasmine into intricately plaited white-gold tresses. He followed the flowers up to finally meet Nuala's eyes, golden pools filled with hesitant trepidation. She didn't realize how beautiful she was. Or how it awoke an ache deep inside him.

As leth-aon, it was expected that they would marry. No one questioned it. But until now, the elven prince hadn't exactly understood the desire that everyone hinted would come. He knew that he and Nuala were beyond close, that there was no one he'd rather spend his time with - let alone for eternity. Nuada knew they were fated…that his sister was beyond lovely. He'd had a few stray thoughts over the years about their future together, about what it'd be like to find that marital romance together, but training and studies had consumed most of his time and attention. He would be a Silverlance and a future king. He'd had little time aught else. He'd never taken the time to look beyond her to anyone else. But now...he was seeing her with new eyes. As if he'd never seen her before this moment. And she was breath-taking…. And he was hungry for her. He was suddenly very aware that they were no longer children; that he was a man and she was now a woman. And he was aware that she was aware of this, too…. And that this was the real reason she was afraid. He was determined to turn this fear into something…else.

"You should wear something like this on our wedding day," he uttered softly, voice deeper than intended. He felt his words jolt through her stomach and settle lower in her belly, felt her breath hitch as if it were his own, felt her heartbeat flutter to match his. Nuada had never once made casual reference to their expected matrimony. Nor had he made any indication of his feelings on it. But in that moment he pushed all his burgeoning desire through their link so that she could not mistake his approval for an empty compliment. She shuddered and blushed, the ocher color dusting her cheeks and the tops of her bosom, her eyes lowering shyly.

Emboldened by her reaction, it only took a few silent steps before he was towering over her. He was drawn to her as a moth to the flame, his hand reaching for her before he burned. His finger traced up the side of her delicate neck, down her jaw, ending at her chin, tilting her face towards his. He felt her skin warm to his touch, her eyes wide. Curious yet anxious. Nuada could feel his twin's heart racing along with his own. He'd never been this close with this intention before. The prince's nostrils flared to catch the scent of her hair and her heat again. He couldn't stop himself from leaning closer towards that heady scent. His patrician nose trailed against Nuala's cheek as he made his way to whisper in her ear, "I want to see that blush on you more often." Their pulses quickened. He tucked a stray wisp of hair behind her ear and leaned even closer, his dark lips intentionally brushing against it with every word. "I want to be the reason behind your blush…. I want to be the only one to see this color in your soft skin." He trailed his finger down her bare shoulder, all the way to circle their shared scar to emphasize his point. "I want to see you…wearing only this blush on our wedding night."

Nuala's gasp was near silent and Nuada would not have heard if he'd not been scandalously close. He gripped her upper arms and kissed her forehead, as was commonplace for them. Only this time, the kiss lingered. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers briefly, squeezing her arms and breathing her in one last time before he disappeared into the crowd.

Nuada hadn't had a private moment with his leth-aon for the rest of the night as they were both assailed with eager party-goers and festivities. He wasn't invested in the conversations forced onto him, but then he didn't need to be as several people were carrying on just fine without his participation. Servants offered appetizers and mead and his cup was never empty. It was easy to seem preoccupied with the revelry when his mind was elsewhere.

Nuala had been surrounded by handmaidens and eunuch-guards all evening, so he wasn't particularly worried when a few tipsy Spriggan lords made eyes at her, though a deep possessive feeling did threaten to turn his vision red. Nuala glanced up at him through her eyelashes in acknowledgement and began rubbing their scar tenderly for several minutes until he calmed.

Nuada stared at his princess from the corner of his eyes throughout the night, watching her graceful movements, her demure politeness, the curve of her lips. He knew she could feel the heat of his gaze upon her skin and she wore that blush for the majority of the night. Several handmaidens pestered Nuala about overheating from drink. She flushed and waved them off. She kept her eyes downcast and worried her bottom lip with her teeth every time his masculine gaze appreciated her sight, which was often that night.

He had realized she was his - as a lion realizes the gazelle in its jaws. She'd always been his. He had every claim to her. Her beauty was for him, her blush, her coy nervousness…her submission, for him alone. Was this the desire the priests had hinted at? Nuada realized he was bleeding all of his emotions into his sister when he felt her tremble run through his spine. If he wasn't careful, his emotions could over-stimulate Nuala, as they had in the past. She was naturally less assertive in all things when compared to him, even in emotions. She was the eye in his storm. But he knew that she was coyly returning his interest, that she felt giddy under his attention, but uneasy about her inexperience.

So he didn't push her, but he watched as a predator. He was a warrior, a hunter. Once Nuada realized his desires, he always got what he wanted. It had only taken a moment on the balcony to turn his world upside down, but he was nothing if not decisive. And he wanted her. With an intensity that was dizzying for them both. He could crush her under the weight of his desire.

It intrigued her. It scared her.

With that thought, Princess Nuala politely excused herself for the night, running away from Nuada's ravenous stare.

Nuada found his father among the delegates and spoke in hushed tones about beginning wedding preparations soon.

Prince Nuada quickly retired to his chambers, supplying curt farewells. He could feel the touch-link between himself and Nuala so intensely tonight. They could not yet communicate through thought or send images as the leth-aon priests taught, but they could still get general impressions of each other if they concentrated. Impressions were a knowing without seeing or hearing. So the prince sat patiently at the edge of his bed, concentrating on the sensations dancing on his skin.

He knew Nuala was alone in front of her mirror, undressing, her hands brushing against her skin innocently as each garment was removed. Her body became exposed to the chill air in her empty room, causing goose-bumps to raise the small hairs on his body. His breath came out in a shudder. She was contemplating her nudity; he could feel it and he ached to see what she saw.

The prince knew of self-pleasure; Nuada was no stranger to knowledge of the flesh. He'd read all of the elven annals on it after all and had even seen some acts performed in person, as was his right. Any normal elven prince would have had a harem by now. He knew other males had explored their sexuality at a much earlier age than he, but then, most males didn't have a leth-aon to consider. Nuada was no stranger to urges of the flesh either, but he'd denied them because he'd never felt Nuala's readiness to explore that area of life just yet. Nuada hadn't wanted to push his innocent sister into the carnal delights of the flesh for his own selfishness when she was so unready. He knew that anything he did to himself would be done to her. So he'd waited, but she'd never shown or initiated any interest, and he'd tried to respect that. It didn't mean he hadn't woken to moistened sheets every now and then. He wondered how her sheets faired on those days.

But tonight felt different. Nuala's hands traced her cheekbones, massaged down her neck, alighting along her collarbones. Curious, appraising. Trying to see if she could see in herself what her brother had seen. Nuada could feel each touch as if Nuala were touching him, and as if it were his fingers on her… touching and being touched. He became consumed in heat and hunger. He could wait no longer.

He removed his own clothing, slowly, making sure his leth-aon felt each deliberate brush of his fingers, mimicking her unintentional tease. Nuala was startled that her assessment of her appearance hadn't been so private, and he felt her rush to cover herself as if he had burst into her room to find her nude. He stopped her by pressing firmly on their scar and scratching, "Trust me," onto his arm. He felt her settle, but only so much, like an alarmed doe seeing the bear in the distance.

He traced his own cheekbones, his neck, his collarbones, just as she had. Letting her know he'd been present for her explorations. He felt the heat of her blush, but she caught on to his desire. He repeated more firmly, going slowly so she would feel each inch of his hard planes in stark clarity.

Nuada felt his sister shudder, hugging her arms over her breasts. Her thoughts surfaced in his head blurrily, as if through frosted glass. The thought-link teased them in moments of great importance and it would only continue to grow clearer as their bond matured. Nuala was scared that this first moment wouldn't be private…that it would be somehow more intimate than if they were exploring each other physically. Fumbling and embarrassing. She didn't want him to feel her touch herself, didn't want to admit that she'd wanted to for a long time.

The pain of scratched runes drew her attention to her left arm. "Please. Let me." A press on their scar. Then on the right arm, "I'll do it for us if you can't." He felt Nuala's eyes water. Was she relieved? Nuada was used to leading, to trying new things for them both, letting her ease into it vicariously through him.

"All right," she scratched shakily. She would follow him.

"Lie down," he commanded.

The prince mirrored his sister in his own bed, soft and plush, dark curtains concealing his nude form from the room, a fire crackling in the hearth. He pushed confidence along with his molten yearning into their link, encouraging her to relax with his deep breaths. This wasn't just about him. He wanted her pleasure…needed it. Nuala was tense but trusting – as always – and this only spurred Nuada on.

Nuada started easy, running both hands down his own neck, feeling the masculine arch of his Adam's apple, the corded muscles. He did it again, more firmly, knowing it was her neck underneath his hands as well. Desire pooled in his stomach and he was aching hard with it. His hands skirted his pectorals, teasing her with the promise, trailing down his breastbone to a taught abdomen. He traced each muscle, scraping his nails along his ribs. Nuada swore he could hear his sister gasp. He smirked. He would make her dizzy with this.

The prince's hands lazily found their way back to the top of his chest and he felt Nuala's anticipation churn in her stomach. His nipples weren't particularly sensitive, but Nuada knew his sister's would be if the brief sensations he'd felt during her baths were any indication. He would enjoy drawing this out, heightening her arousal further, drowning her doubts in bliss.

He circled his fingers lightly around the pectoral muscles first, teasing, getting closer to the center on each pass. Nuada deliberately avoided his nipples, her nipples, until they crested and ached with need. He could feel Nuala fisting her sheets, nails digging into her palms. His fingers ran tight circles around the areolas before he gave into her need, flattening his entire hand down each breast, the worried peaks rubbing against his palms. He felt his sister arch her back, crying out. Her pleasure ripped through him, and reverberated through them in a repeating echo – her to him and him to her. The elven prince's grin was greedy and he was drunk off the dual sensations. He envied women this sensitivity. Nuada squeezed this time – as much as he could against his own firm muscles – massaging his chest as he would his sister's.

He could feel his princess whine, biting her lip to keep quiet. Nuala's hands had found their way over her own breasts now. He let her explore the sensations for herself. His princess was testing the supple weight and firmness in her hands, her thighs clenching as she massaged her own breasts. Nuala indulged on her own for a few minutes and Nuada reveled in the amount of pleasure she gained from the attentions; the pleasure it caused him.

She worked herself into a frenzy before he decided to change tactics, rubbing his thumbs across their nipples. The reaction was instantaneous. Her back was arched clear off the bed, her hands pulling at her hair, his hair. The prince decided he liked it. He did it again. Nuala shook, keening. He did it again…and again. He experimented with ever so lightly pinching the sensitive buds, rolling them between his fingers. At this, Nuala threw her head back and let out a guttural groan; the prince could feel it rasping in his own throat. His scalp was aching from her hands by the time he relented, giving his chest - her breasts - one last firm squeeze. Nuada had not been disappointed in his assessment and - through his sister - he now understood why this particular pleasure could turn a maiden senseless.

The pale warrior's fingers danced down his rippled stomach once more, stroking up and down the sides, scraping his nails against jutting hipbones. He felt Nuala's uncertain anxiety rise in her throat as his fingers grazed the pale hairs above his manhood. Nuada quickly circled their scar to calm his twin, pressing it firmly until he felt her press back. The prince breathed meditatively to calm her further before he pressed on. How would it feel for her when he took himself in hand? So far, everything he'd touched had matching analogous parts to their bodies, but this area was decidedly different. He pressed on, determined to find out.

The prince was so throbbing hard for his sister, veins subtly protruding and the deep ocher flushing the tip. He was proportionate to himself and proud of his masculinity. Nuada wanted Nuala to be proud of it, too. Like with her breasts, he skirted the issue, trailing fingers along the insides of his thighs, her thighs, flirting with the pubic bone and the hair marking adulthood. His princess was trembling uncontrollably, nerves wound tight, teeth biting her lip so hard he bled. He paused to lick it away. He didn't want to pressure his maiden if she was this nervous…scared enough to draw blood. They could wait until another time.

He scratched a short, to-the-point message on his stomach. "Stop? I can wait." He pressed reassuringly at their love rune again.

"Do it. I'm fine," she replied, but he felt her uncertainty pulling the link taut.

"Sure?" He asked once again. He felt she might be pushing through for his benefit. It was her self-sacrificing nature. Now he felt uncertain for the briefest of moments. They needed this climax, but it could wait. This seemed to calm her and he felt an insistent press on their scar as acquiescence.

He wasted no time wrapping his hand around his turgid phallus, sighing at the overwhelming relief after all these years. He stroked, pulling the foreskin back and forth over the flared head, and the sensation was almost powerful enough to drown Nuala from his mind. Almost. Nuada felt an answering pleasure build between Nuala's netherlips, at the bud he knew to be her clitoris; a strange feeling that he had no comparison to since he'd only ever been male. He stroked slowly to give his leth-aon time to adjust to the newness, even though he wanted to go faster. The prince felt the pleasure build slowly, low in his belly, and in Nuala's. He knew she was panting with him, maybe even mewling, and he would so desperately give anything to hear her sighs in that moment.

The prince found a pace they both preferred and a particularly sensitive spot below the head of his appendage, which translated to an equally sensitive spot for his princess. He got the impression she was writhing like a snake on her covers, one hand on her breast, and one gripped in the sheets. He knew Nuala could not only feel his pleasure, but also his calloused hand closed around his hot cock as if it were her own. He received her impressions of steel weapons covered in velvety silk. So hard with skin so soft. Nuada wished his sister would touch herself as well so he could feel her slick folds on their fingers. In time. She was still receiving pleasure, even though she wasn't touching herself. He could feel her just as close to the precipice as he was. To know he was the one bringing her this pleasure was almost enough...but he was greedy. The urgency of the pleasure built to an ache, an impending eruption. His cock felt impossibly thick now; his pace quickened, his breaths shuddering in his lungs. He could feel Nuala was practically sobbing with the need to fall over the edge that he'd brought them to. So he closed his eyes and concentrated, on her, her pleasure, her naked body.

And when he opened his eyes, they were not his. When the eyes looked down, Nuada saw not his body, but Nuala's; her pale breasts heaving, soft flat stomach, thighs clenched and legs twisting. It was the first time they'd shared the sight-link and she was so painfully beautiful that it tipped him over that elusive abyss. He lost the sight-link, but his long-awaited orgasm, and hers, crashed through his entire body so profoundly that Nuada thought he might pass out. He felt Nuala's body clench and spasm in unison with his.

They panted, rooms apart, as they came down from the lofty heights of climax. A climax that would always be shared. Nuada felt Nuala's tears on his cheeks. He pressed their scar and shoved his gratitude and love into the bond-link. She pushed back her own relief and adoration. He traced his lips with his fingers slowly since it was the closest he could come to kissing her tonight. She mimicked his movements in return. It was their kiss.

The prince stared at his ornate canopy and breathed. Their connection was growing and he would see it blown wide open if he had his way. He vowed to feel her pleasure like this as often as he could...until there was no distinction between realities anymore.

He would ruin her for all others.

To Be Continued...

Gaelic terms (learngaelic . net):

Thig gu aois - coming of age

Cruinne-cè' - Earth, world