Title: Mael-Gûl – Chapter VI c – Through Eregion (Past and
Present) - Part IV and V

   Author: Aislynn Crowdaughter

   Author's Email: Aislynn.Crowdaughter@gmx.net

   Pairings: Aragorn/Legolas (mainly), Boromir/Legolas ,
Gimli/Legolas, Others/Legolas. 

   Rating: NC (M) –strictly adults only.

   Summary: AU. Legolas slave fic. Mirkwood is a subjected realm
and must give hostages to the other Elven realms as slaves. Legolas
is the slave of Aragorn, who is a sadist. And to keep Legolas loyal
to the Ranger, he is bound by a cruel spell: the *Mael-Gûl*... This
story was inspired by BlueGolds story “Bound” which can be found
here:
http://www.libraryofmoria.com/legolasaragorn/boundbybluegold.txt
I use similar plot ideas here with her permission.
   *Warnings*: Slash, m/m, BDSM, *torture*, toys, d/s, hard stuff,
*Non-con sexual situations* and *debatable consent*.  Drug Abuse
(in Flashbacks only). *Very* graphic descriptions, both physical
and mental; abuse both physical and sexual.  

   SPECIAL WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER: *explicit torture*, severe
abuse, *explicit gang rape*, and *mutilation* (in Flashbacks only).
I mean it! This chapter has very strong stuff, so please don't read
if you don't like!  Also there will be Flashbacks including sexual
situations with adolescents. I am going back into the history of
Estel and Legolas at some point, and I feel that Estel's first
fumbling explorations of sexuality may have started as early as
seventeen, and probably  included a certain Elf. But there will be
no sexual abuse of minors. The gang-rape and mutilation scenes
happen in the first flashback of Part I “Past and Present I:
Enslaved”, another explicit gang rape scene happens in the
flashback scene of  Part VI, “Past and Present IV: Master and
Slave”. Please heed the Warnings!

   Disclaimer: Not mine. LOTR was created by J.R.R. Tolkien, who
owns the characters, safe a few original characters in side roles.
Peter Jackson owns the Movies. I just borrow from them without
permission.  The setting of the story is inspired by a plot bunny
of Cheysuli and the story “Bound” by BlueGold, as mentioned in the
summary and author's note. The idea of the *Mael-Gûl*, or *Rhach e-
Maelangwedh* (Lust-Spell, Curse of Lustchain) however is entirely
mine. 

   Feedback: Yes please! Send to Aislynn.Crowdaughter@gmx.net This
is my first LOTR fic, and I am no native speaker. Any comments
welcome, including about grammar! 
...*Betareader*: Surreysmum. All remaining errors are my own. Thank
you! 
   *Additional Author's Note*: This story is based on the
Movieverse with some book elements. *However*, this is *AU*.
Utterly and completely. I apologize to all Tolkien purists. I know
the Master himself would rotate in his grave if ever he was
confronted with anything like this. I know, Galadriel, Elrond,
Thranduil and their Elves are not this way,  and Aragorn is
neither. But I simply had to write this, so please don’t read if
you don’t like. You have been warned!

Additionally, I wish to announce that in this chapter, I am
operating *extensively* with flashback scenes. Here is a Guide: //
/flashback/ //; ************Time change within a
flashback***********;  “speech”; 'thoughts'

   *Languages*: I am no great expert in Sindarin and have no clue
to its grammar, therefore I will just use a few words of this
language in this fic. So whenever Aragorn is speaking with Elves,
consider the conversation is taking place in Sindarin, except if
explicitly differently mentioned. At the council or among the
Fellowship, he and everybody else is talking in Common Speech or
Westron, except if differently mentioned. 

For all other notes and warnings see Prologue and Chapter One.


________________________


CHAPTER VI c 	Through Eregion (Past and Present)– Part IV and V


PART IV - Respite


Aragorn trudged on, his face grim and forbidding. He was all too
aware that his dark mood was palpable and surrounded him  like a
dark, stormy cloud. Once in a while he cast sullen glances into the
direction of his slave, often briefly meeting Legolas' gaze; but
always, the slave quickly looked away.  He seemed subdued and
miserable.
It would have melted Aragorn's heart and triggered his concern if
not for the images replaying before his eyes, filling his mind
whenever he allowed it to wander.

*The face of the Elf raised in abandon, relaxed in passion and
pleasure; gasping at the thrusts of another into his pliant body...
finding release in complete ecstasy... Boromir's harsh breathing
mingling with the Elf's as he thrust into the willing body...*

He shook his head again, trying to banish the images, but they
remained. and it did not improve his mood that he himself was
responsible for this mess and had completely brought it on himself.

Legolas avoided him. His slave took care to be as far from him as
he could manage, mostly sticking to himself or chatting with the
Hobbits, sometimes scouting ahead, but always avoiding Aragorn and
Boromir. Boromir was not too happy about this, Aragorn could see;
the Man of Gondor had earlier that day tried to share some intimacy
with the Elf, some tender caress, but Legolas had sidestepped him
skilfully and fled. He had then hesitantly approached his master,
only to shy away when he picked up on Aragorn's foul mood, and had
avoided him ever since. Boromir's looks had turned from hurt to
anger to annoyance. Now, the Gondorian simply left the Elf in
peace, apparently satisfied by the fact that Legolas at least
avoided Aragorn as well.

The Hobbits, sensing the Elf's disturbed mood, shot both men dark
looks and tried their best to form a protective bulwark around the
slave when he was with the Fellowship. And while Aragorn often felt
Legolas' look on him, the slave carefully avoided meeting his eyes
and looked away whenever Aragorn looked into his direction.

Of course, Aragorn could have easily put a stop to this by simply
commanding his slave to stay close. But he hesitated. In the back
of his mind, he knew all too well that Legolas avoided him because
of his master's obvious black mood, and he had to admit that at the
moment his slave was wise to do so.

For if Legolas came close to him and he had to smell the scent of
Boromir on him again, he did not knew what he would do.

Aragorn chided himself. It was stupid of him to be jealous; after
all, he himself had commanded the Elf  into the other man's
bedding. Legolas had not wanted to go, had begged him to revoke his
command; but he had insisted, and his most loyal slave had
reluctantly but obediently followed his command against his own
preferences. It was not Legolas'  fault that, true to his master's
explicit encouragement, he had then found it in himself to enjoy
the sharing.

And yet. There it was. Aragorn could not banish the image of
Legolas in Boromir's arms out of his head, the pleasure and the
abandon on his Elf's face as he allowed himself to find pleasure in
the other man's embrace. Boromir's gentleness, so different to
everything he, Aragorn, could give his partner. Legolas' expression
of wonder and passion... 

It sat like a cold fist of anger in his stomach, urging him *to
hurt, to punish, to avenge*. In the back of his mind, some dark and
ugly part of himself whispered to him of all the ways to punish his
wayward slave and show him exactly to whom he belonged. Thoroughly.
To teach him better than to seek and find pleasure with anyone
beside his master.

The sane and rational part of his mind chided himself and discarded
the thought.

*'And drive him even further away from you?'* the voice of reason
in his mind questioned dryly. *'Do you wish to drive him into the
arms of the Gondorian *with  force*? He did only what you asked him
to, after all!'* 
And after all, how could he punish Legolas for obeying his command?

No. He was being childish. And there was a cold fear in his soul,
the fear of losing the affection of his Elf for good.  Even while
Legolas was bound to him without escape, the unconditional faith
and trust the Elf still placed in him was precious. He simply could
not bear to lose that. 

The mere thought that Legolas could come to truly loathe him for
good was too painful to contemplate. It took his breath away and
sent currents of grief and sadness through his soul.

He could not risk that. 

For a moment he was flooded with regret and grief nearly too great
to bear. *They had lost so much already...* No. He could not risk
driving Legolas further apart from him.

So he allowed his slave to avoid him and trudged on, fretting in
silence. 

It was late in the afternoon when he finally had an epiphany. 

There was a way how he could show his Elf exactly what he meant to
him, how much he truly appreciated him. A way how he could remind
Legolas to whom he belonged and what they had together, without
driving him further away. 

It was something Boromir would never do. And Legolas would even
like it.

And more, it would show his Elf why the command to share himself
with others was a good thing. It would even serve to remind Aragorn
himself of that. 

He would show Legolas how dear he was to him,how much he meant to
him.

It was perfect.

Smiling to himself and in a much better mood, Aragorn went to seek
out his Elf and prepare for his plans.


_______________ o ______________


Aragorn did not get his chance until the evening. Legolas had been
at first a bit hesitant when his master sought him out, and the
Hobbits, always protective of the Elf, had taken that slight
hesitance as a call to form a wall around him and engage both
Aragorn  and the Elf in animated chatter. Aragorn had at first been
taken aback by their ploy, but a look at Legolas' grateful face had
been enough to convince him to play along. While he would have been
well within his rights to simply chase Legolas' self-appointed
body-guards away and ask the Elf to have a word with him, his aim
was still regaining his Elf's commitment and trust. And the best
way to ensure that was certainly *not* aggravating the Hobbits and
claiming Legolas' sole attention to himself by mere command. So he
patiently played along and registered with satisfaction that
slowly, very slowly, Legolas seemed to relax again. 

When the Fellowship finally settled down to camp and the Hobbits
went along to settle down and haggle about the chores, Aragorn
stepped closer to his Elf and touched him. “I would have you near
me for the night,” he informed his slave. “I have missed you all
day, Little Leaf. Stay close to me this evening.”

Legolas gave him a startled, apprehensive  look, then Samwise
called his name and asked him to fetch firewood. The Elf hesitated
a moment, then he gave his master an obedient bow, mumbled a polite
“as soon as I am back, My Lord,” and went to fetch the firewood as
he had been asked to do. Aragorn sighed and turned to seek out
Gandalf and discuss their course during the following days. He
could not help noticing the brief communication between his slave
and the Hobbits at the other side of the camp, just out of earshot,
though. He noticed their frowning and Legolas' grateful expression
but gentle shake of head. He thought he could guess the content of
the exchange. If he was not completely mistaken, they were offering
the Elf their protection from his master again, should he need it.
Apparently, Legolas declined. Aragorn was grateful for this proof
of his Elf's continued loyalty, and resolved to prove to Legolas
that he deserved it.

Later, when the Fellowship sat around the fire, Legolas settled
hesitantly down beside him. Aragorn reached out,  touched his arm
and guided him close. The Elf reluctantly but obediently leaned
against him, and Aragorn gathered him in his arms, in nearly the
same position as the evening before. He could feel Legolas' body
tense up against him. Slowly and tenderly he began to pet the tense
form,  ignoring the  pointed glares of the Hobbits and the sullen
looks of Boromir. 

Slowly and hesitantly Legolas began to relax under his
ministrations. Aragorn registered it with satisfaction. For  a few,
long moments, he simply luxuriated in the Elf's closeness and
unique smell and feel.

“I wondered what I had to do to get my hands on you, today,” he
whispered after some time. “You did your best to avoid me all day,
Little Leaf.”

Legolas tensed up again. “I'm sorry, master,” he stammered,
obviously terrified, “I just...”

Aragorn sighed and just continued to pet him gently. “Shhh, it's
all right. I admit I was in a terrible mood most of today,” he
admitted. 

When Legolas didn't immediately relax against him, he soothed: “It
is not your fault, Little Leaf. I was just being stupid.” He kissed
him gently on the head.

Legolas turned in his arms and looked at him. “You – you are not-?”

Aragorn met his gaze with slight grief and self-deprecating
amusement.  “Angry?” he asked, raising a brow. “No, not anymore. At
least not at you. Jealous? Yes, I am. Terribly so. I was glowering
all day. I said I was being stupid, did I not?”

Legolas shrank a bit, his eyes widening in fear. Yet at the same
time, there was a little spark of defiance. Aragorn was absurdly
pleased to see it. At least he had not yet destroyed the spirit in
his Elf.

“But,” Legolas began, “you said...”

Aragorn kissed him. “I know what I said and commanded you to do,”
he said then. “That's why I said I'm being stupid. Still, it's
killing me to know you were in his arms, and it drives me mad that
I have to share you. I still think that this thrice-cursed bargain
is for the best  and the right thing to do to keep you safe. But
that certainly doesn't mean I'll have to like it.”

Legolas looked at him uncomprehendingly. ”But you told me you would
have me relish it, master,” he protested feebly.

Aragorn sighed and stroked tenderly through his hair. 

“I know,” he said, and after a moment forced himself to add: “and
to that I hold. I am not angry at you, Little Leaf, just at myself.
And I promise I won't take that anger out on you.”

Legolas swallowed hard. He didn't doubt that this was his master's
intention. Even so...

Carefully, he began: “Estel...”

Aragorn kissed him again. “I promise,” he repeated then, holding
his gaze. “Do not fear. I won't!”

Legolas held his gaze for a moment, then he sighed in relief. He
relaxed visibly, and his body in Aragorn's arms finally grew
pliant. 

“Thank you,” he said quietly .”I... am sorry I avoided you today,
Estel.”

Aragorn shook his head. “No matter. It was probably for the best,”
he admitted reluctantly. “I needed time to work through my
unjustified anger.” 

He smiled and petted Legolas' back and shoulders tenderly. “It is
as well that tonight it is my turn again.”

To his dismay, he saw Legolas' eyes widen again in sudden fear and
felt the Elf's body in his arms tense up immediately. For a moment,
dark, terrible anger welled up in him and the jealous beast inside
his guts  screamed and growled. *'Do you miss his touch already so
much that you loathe mine?'* the beast howled, *'Do you already
prefer him that much?!'*

But then, rational thought set in again and he fought his jealousy
down. Bitterly he reminded himself that there were very good
reasons for Legolas' reluctance and fear of his master's
attentions, none of which had anything to do with Boromir.

*'Well, not tonight,'* he thought, *'tonight you are in for a
pleasant surprise, melethron!'*

Still, a part of him felt as if he would drown in grief, and he
wanted to scream. *How had he ever brought them both to this?*

He saw the renewed fear deepening in his slave's eyes and shook his
head. Then he brought his mouth close to one of the delicate ears
and placed a quick kiss to its tip.

“Shhh, do not fear,” he rasped. “I  will be gentle. I promised,
remember?” 

He felt Legolas hesitate a moment, then nod and relax again. For a
moment, he was flooded with relief. 

Legolas still trusted him implicitly. He had not managed to destroy
what was between them for good.

Grateful and relieved, Aragorn kissed the ear under his lips again
and promised: “Do not fear! I promise you, you will not regret it!
I have something special in mind for us tonight, Little Leaf. And
it is nothing you need fear, I promise!”

Legolas' eyes widened a bit at Aragorn's mention of his 'special
plans', and there was a quick flash of fear. It filled Aragorn with
sudden grief. *Of course, '*something special*' rarely meant
something good for Legolas anymore when it came to their bed-play,
did it?* But he resisted the impulse to explain and to assure,
hoping desperately Legolas would trust him. Legolas looked at him
questioningly, but he just smiled and refused to say more. Instead,
he simply held his slave's gaze and continued his tender petting. 

Finally, after searching his gaze for long moments, the Elf gave up
and turned in his arms again, comfortably settling against him.
Aragorn luxuriated in this undeniable proof of trust and promised
himself that tonight, at least, Legolas would have no reason to
regret it.


_________________ o ______________


Legolas leaned drowsily against his master, savouring Aragorn's
slow, gentle petting. It was a peaceful moment, and  he was
grateful for Estel's unexpected tenderness, even more so, since
after seeing Aragorn's palpable dark mood all day he had feared the
worst for the night. Still, something within him hesitated to relax
and lower his guard completely. 

Aragorn would take him later this night.  

True, Aragorn had promised to be gentle – at least as gentle as he
could. He would try to make their joining bearable, even enjoyable
for his slave. And of course, Legolas relished every moment of
tenderness and concern Estel showed him like the most precious
jewel, and kept it treasured in his heart. 

But still Legolas could not help fearing the night. He knew that
Aragorn had no choice, as little as he had himself. And normally,
Aragorn tried to keep the level of pain he was forced to cause him
bearable. He would surely do so  tonight.

But Legolas did not know if he could bear Estel hurting him again
tonight. Not after these recent dreams and sweet  memories of their
early time together. He did not know if he could take Aragorn's
cruel attentions again so soon after that. 

So it was with much apprehension that he finally followed his
master to their packs to fetch oil as well as their bedrolls and
blankets, and afterwards out of the camp to find some privacy
together. At least they had time; Aragorn had managed to fend off
any attempt to enroll him or Legolas for watch-duty tonight, even
though it meant that both of them had to take watches   tomorrow.
But he had been adamant, and finally, Boromir gave in, although
with a very sour face. The Gondorian cast them a sullen look when
they left the camp, but at least he kept to himself and allowed
them privacy. So did the Hobbits. They seemed to accept Legolas'
reassurance that he didn't need protection tonight and left him to
his own devices.

Legolas wished he could be as sure that he did not need their help
as he had told them.

Aragorn led him out of the camp and into the bushes. They did not
go very far; Aragorn sought a place that would offer protection of
their privacy and was well out of sight and immediate earshot from
the camp, but would allow them to hear if the alarm was raised and
get back in time if there was an attack. Finally he found a place
to his content, surrounded by bushes and with soft, mossy ground,
and spread out his bedroll, signaling Legolas to do the same. He
placed his blanket beside their bedding and sat down, taking off
his weapons and placing them in easy reach. 


Legolas shrugged out of his harness and placed it beside the
weapons of his master, then he stood mute and waited for Aragorn's
commands. He was surprised when his master smiled up at him. 

Aragorn settled more comfortably on his bedroll and patted the
place beside him. “Come to me, Little Leaf,” he invited. “Sit down
beside me.”

Amazed and a little mystified, Legolas obeyed. He had expected a
command to undress, or to kneel, not a gentle  invitation. *What
was Estel playing at?!* Carefully, he settled down beside his
master, kneeling before him.

“Estel?” he began questioningly, “What...”

Aragorn just smiled at him and placed a finger on his lips. Then he
traced the features of his Elf with admiration. 

“Shhh! I have waited for this moment all day,” he said hoarsly, “I
could hardly stand to wait much longer.”

He raised both hands and traced Legolas' face, followed his
features lovingly: the sculpted cheekbones, the elegant ears,  the
sensitive neck; then he moved on to comb gently through the silken
hair. With delight he first saw the pupils of his Elf dilate, then
the eyes fluttering closed under his touch, watched Legolas' face
relax and his lips open in wonder, heard  the reverent whisper of
his name:

*“Estel...”*

Desire surged through him. He leaned forward and graced the lips of
his Elf with a tender kiss, just a sweet promise  instead of a
demanding taking of his lover's mouth.

“You do not know how beautiful you are,” he whispered. “Make love
to me!”

Legolas' eyes flew open. He drew back and looked at him, eyes wide
in wonder. When he saw that his master was serious, his eyes
widened even more.

“Estel,” he gasped breathlessly, “You would allow me... *truly*?”

Aragorn saw his wonder and his joy at the thought and smiled even
wider. “Yes, *melethron*. I want to feel you inside me tonight,” he
answered. “Please, Little Leaf! I need to feel your body within
mine. I want you!”

He looked at his partner admiringly. “Make love to me?”

For a moment, Legolas just looked at him, apparently too amazed and
overwhelmed to react. Then the face of his Elf transformed in raw
longing and his eyes went black with desire. So much love, so much
surprise and gratitude, so much   pure, unblemished joy were
shining back at him. For this sight alone, Aragorn decided, this
had been a wonderful idea. 

But still his slave seemed somehow hesitant to take him up on his
offer, as if Legolas could just not believe his ears.

Aragorn decided to prompt him. He tilted his head and pursed his
lips in a little pout. “Do you not want me?” he asked coyly.

In the next instant, he found himself flat on his back and
straddled by a very determined, very aroused Elf, who took his
mouth in a demanding kiss. “I do want you,” Legolas breathed when
he let him up for air, “I do want you, Estel!”

It was nearly a sob, and Legolas' eyes were bright with joy and
gratitude; Aragorn had to swallow at the depth of their expression. 

But then Legolas ceased to speak and plunged down on his master's
willing mouth again, plundering it thoroughly. Then he moved on to
his neck, his ears, his shoulders... Aragorn felt somewhat
overwhelmed at the concentrated assault on his body, loving and
full of tenderness, but very determined. Legolas' mouth, his hands
were everywhere, kissing, nipping, caressing and tickling. It was
nearly frightening to find himself suddenly at the mercy of his
normally so humble and submissive Elf, but at the same time, it was
exciting to take the passive role for a change. And in any case, he
trusted Legolas implicitly.

So he gave himself over to the concentrated assault, squirming,
moaning, laughing in delight, until the tender and maddening
caresses suddenly stopped and he looked up at his lover a little
startled.

Legolas' face shone, but now it held a nearly predatory expression.

“You, My Lord,” he said, “have entirely too many clothes on!”

Aragorn raised his brows and looked back at his slave. “Then,
*melethron*, I suggest we remedy that!” he offered. 

Legolas hands started immediately on his belt, then moved to open
the bindings of his jerkin. Aragorn let him work, then shoved him
gently back and off himself so he could sit up. “Wait,
*melethron*,” he said breathlessly, “let me undress for you!” 

He caught a glimpse of Legolas' look of wonder, then he was busy
getting the shirt over his head, assisted by his Elf. It took them
only moments; they eagerly helped each other out of their garb
until they were both completely naked for each other. 

Then Legolas turned back to his master. Asking and receiving
Aragorn's permission with his eyes, he gently and lovingly guided
the Adan back on his back, kissing him tenderly. With one hand, he
reached for one of their  blankets.  He would have preferred to
leave it, but it was cold, and Estel did not have the same
resistance as an Elf against exposure. 

So he spread it over the two of them, then returned to worshiping
the beloved body, now unhindered by restraining cloth. 

He stole another kiss, savoring the sweet, responsive mouth under
his own; then he moved on to kiss the well known scar on Estel's
lip, a reminder of an early fight with a particularly nasty group
of humans. He moved on to map the beloved features of his master
with gentle kisses. He watched the eyes fluttering closed and
graced each with a gentle kiss. Then he moved on to the side of his
master's head. 

Legolas blew into one round ear and grinned at the delighted
laughter this elicited. He bit gently into the sensitive lobe. 

Estel gasped. His hands came up and kneaded into the Elf's back.
Legolas licked along the lobe, followed the round shape with his
tongue, then closed his mouth down on  the captive flesh and
suckled. Estel groaned.  Legolas grinned. He knew that the human
was  not as sensitive here as an Elf, but Estel still liked  this
nearly as much as Legolas himself. 

And he was right. Estel's hands buried into Legolas' shoulders and
his groin surged up against him. “Legolas!” his master growled in a
mixture of amusement and helpless begging, “Please! You are killing
me here!”

Legolas grinned again and gave the captive lobe under his lips a
last, teasing lick. Then he took pity on the human and moved down.
His hands trailed southwards, following the lines
They traced the ribs, the muscled chest, the flat stomach,
kneading, caressing, stroking, mapping the scars along their way.
There were many, and for most of them he knew exactly how and when
they had been received. Each was a reminder of a failure, because
they meant he had not been successful in watching Estel's back.
Only a few had been gained when Legolas had not been there.

Then again, all these scars also meant Estel had lived through
another battle to receive them. He mapped them all:  this one of
the warg-bite that had nearly cost them both their life, Estel's by
the long, gruesome fever following the bite, and his own by
default; that of an ugly sword-stroke, and this here stemmed from
an encounter with a nasty arrow. He marveled that Estel's body was
such an open map of all his valorous deeds. His own body showed
little of the struggles of the past, but then the reminder of any
wounds he received faded fast on him, as did any marks left by
Estel's harsher games.

Legolas quickly banished this last thought. He was determined to
enjoy this gift and unwilling to spoil this moment by thoughts of
inevitable pain and grief. 

Legolas' mouth moved to his master's neck, suckling and nibbling,
until Estel began to moan and thrash against him. He moved on to
that spot at the joint of neck and shoulders where Estel always was
so sensitive, and started to nibble. His hands rubbed Estel's
stomach, lingering, refusing to roam further down. 

Estel groaned. His hands buried harder into Legolas back and his
groin surged up again, seeking contact. But he just succeeded in
rubbing himself a little against the Elf's thighs, far too little
friction to feed his building need.

Legolas' hands finally left the human's stomach and trailed down,
kneading his thighs, carefully avoiding the center of the Adan's
excitement.

Estel growled in frustration. “Legolas!--” he whined, “Please....”
- but at least he did not command his Elf to move on. 

Legolas grinned again. He gave the spot he had been working a last,
teasing swirl with his tongue and kissed his way along the hollow
of Estel's throat down to the chest. Finding one of the nipples, he
gave it his closest attention. 

Estel moaned when the hot mouth closed over the sensitive body
part, suckling and teasing it mercilessly. He stroked his hands
helplessly over the Elf's smooth back, resisting the impulse to
turn the tables; he had resolved to let Legolas be on top tonight,
and so he would let him have his way. But it was difficult. The Elf
seemed determined  to subject him to this sweet torment as
thoroughly and intently as he could. Still, he could not help
raising his groin again, trying to push it against the thighs of
his lover, trying to get contact.... but the Elf skillfully avoided
him. He seemed intent on torturing  him with frustration. 

Then Legolas graced the nipple he was suckling lightly with his
teeth and Estel yelped. He groaned again when the offended body
part was soothed again by a swirling tongue.

“Legolas,” he whined, *“melethron, *please*...”*

His whining was rewarded when the teasing mouth moved to his other
tit and Legolas hands finally, mercifully, found their way to his
manhood.


At Aragorn's pleas, Legolas looked up at him, grinning, delighting
in his human's expression of desire and need. It was a pity that he
was so rarely allowed to worship Estel's body like this any more.
Most of the times, his master preferred him on the receiving end,
submissive and passive, waiting obediently for whatever he would
receive.... that Estel would grant him this, and now, was an
unbelievable gift he could not relish enough! His hands moved down
and closed over his human's maleness, to give him finally a part of
what he craved --

-- and found it still soft and hardly risen. Despite his obvious
arousal, Estel had barely stirred for him!

While he himself was already so hard he ached.

He frowned and looked alarmed up at his master's face. He met
Aragorn's eyes, black with passion.

Aragorn's hands stroked over his hair. 

“Don't  mind that,” the *Adan* groaned, “move on, please, Little
Leaf! You are killing me here!”

It took only a moment, then  Legolas obeyed. His hands lingered a
few more moments on the soft flesh that refused to harden under his
attentions, although the nimble fingers did their best to coax it
up, then they moved on and found the soft scrotum and the sacs,
starting to tease and massage gently. One of the clever hands
trailed further down between the hard-muscled buttocks. Aragorn
hissed as a nimble finger found the puckered hole of his most
private entrance and lingered to stroke and tease around it. He
could not help tensing up in anticipation. It had been so long
since he last allowed his lover to do that...

Yet to his frustration, the finger didn't dip inside, but circled
his hole a few more times, then left him again. He suppressed the
urge to whimper. *What was his devious, impish Elven slave suddenly
up to?!*

Legolas lavished the tit under his lips with mouth and tongue,
grinning at Estel's little moan of protest. He graced the nipple
with a last, gentle bite  - Estel moaned and jerked up against him
– then he trailed further down kissing and licking his way from the
hairy chest to the belly-button. 

Meanwhile, one of his hands sneaked out under the blanket to the
little vial of oil he had placed in easy reach beside their
weapons. He blew into Estel's navel and proceeded to licking around
it and burrowing his tongue in it. He had to grin at Estel's little
yelp and thorough squirming. Estel was ticklish here, and Legolas
knew it. He was delighted at the rumbling laughter answering his
assault, and the hands of his master buried in his hair. 

“Legolas, please!” Estel begged helplessly. “Don't tease so, Little
Leaf! I need you!”

A little disappointed, yet obedient, Legolas finally gave in and
moved down to suckle on his master's shaft.

Which had still not stirred nor filled out more.

Legolas looked up, startled out of his haze of pleasure, and met
Aragorn's gaze.

Aragorn groaned as the hot mouth closed over his sensitive member.
He felt Legolas freeze and looked down to see what was wrong. Yet
he knew already. The blanket had fallen away at some point during
their proceedings, and he could see the face of his Elf, cheeks
hollowed in pleasuring his master's manhood – which still refused
to harden for him, despite of all his ministrations. While he
watched, Aragorn could see a flash of grief and disappointment
flash through his Elf's eyes.

He could not take it. 

He shook his head and caressed his lover's face. “Don't mind that,”
he said again, voice raw in need, “I do not need to grow hard to
enjoy having you fill me! Please, Little Leaf! *Take me*!” he urged
then. *“Make me yours!”*

He could see the eyes of his Elf dilate and turn black again in
sudden desire at his words. Then Legolas closed his eyes, and
engulfed the man's soft member. Aragorn groaned as the talented
tongue swirled over the sensitive head, and the suckling sensation
gently massaged his length, although the stubborn flesh still
refused to gain full hardness. Then he gasped as he was breached by
a nimble finger, entering him, caressing him from the inside, in
rhythm with the working mouth. He could not help tensing up against
the gentle intruder; but there was no pain. The finger was well
lubricated. He had not even noticed when Legolas had managed to
coat his hands with the oil.

Then the clever digits found his sweet spot, and pleasure exploded
in his head.

Legolas swallowed in anticipation at Aragorn's harsh breathing and
thrashing movements. He forced himself to take his time, to stretch
and prepare patiently, although he was so hard himself that he
could hardly wait any longer. Finally, after the first finger had
been joined by the second, then the third, he gave the soft member
of his master a last,  suckling caress, and let it go and
straightened up. He positioned himself between Aragorn's legs and
moved them up so they were bent and spread apart for him.


Aragorn could not help swallowing. It had been so very long since
he last had allowed himself to be taken. He knew there would be
pleasure, yet he could not help feeling a little tense. He felt the
slender fingers intruding again,  caressing his channel, stretching
gently. Then the fingers left and were replaced by thick, hot
flesh. Aragorn hissed as the hot silken column breached him and
entered, at first only the head, then pushing slowly further. He
tensed in sudden pain, and Legolas immediately stopped. Aragorn
took deep breaths while he allowed his passage to adjust to the
intruding member. Legolas' body inside his own felt unbelievable:
hot, tight, full,  completing him in ways he could not fathom...
and the face of his Elf while he did this was a marvel to behold:
glowing in pleasure, full of concentration, and shining in raw
longing and complete abandon. The sight nearly undid him. The
thought flickered through his mind: *'I really should do this more
often!'* - and in fact for a few, long  moments he could hardly
understand why he had not.

Then he remembered, and for a moment, it it filled him with sharp
grief. 

*If only he could give him more of this! If only *this* would be
enough to keep his Elf  alive...*

Yet it was not, and so all he could do was to give himself to this
moment and his Elf and keep the sight of Legolas' joy treasured in
his heart as best as he could. He knew it could not last. He knew
they could not stay like this. But he could give his Elf this gift,
here, now, the very least that he could do for him...

So he looked at his Elf, savoring his joy, and wishing with all his
heart he could do more. Then Legolas hit his sweet spot again and
he gasped with joy and and all thought left him.

Carefully Legolas began to move inside him, and Aragorn gave
himself completely over to the moment.


While Legolas entered his master, his mind was briefly flooded  by
the memory of another time....


// / “Make love to me!” the young Adan demanded. 

Legolas' eyes went wide. “You mean?--”

Estel nodded. “Yes,” he reassured his lover, “I want to feel you
inside!”

Legolas hesitated. Never in his wildest dreams had he expected such
an offer. “Are you sure?”he asked carefully. 

He was rewarded with a look of love and trust. 

“Yes, I am sure,” Estel affirmed, “I want to feel you inside! I
want to feel what you do when I make love to you!” He noticed his
lover's hesitation and looked puzzled. “Do you not want me?”

Legolas felt himself melt inside. He could have died on the spot
and counted himself happy. “Yes, I want you,” he replied, “it's
just... I don't want to hurt you!”

Estel's eyes grew wide. “It hurts?” he asked, startled, “But... I
thought...”

Legolas could see the concern shining in his eyes and hurried to
reassure him: “It always hurts a little. But when it is done
rightly, the pleasure far outweighs the pain. It always does when
you lie with me.”

The concern in his lover's eyes changed to trust and determination.
“Then I want you to take me!” Estel said. “I know you will not hurt
me!”

Legolas could not resist any longer. He leaned forward and closed
the mouth of his lover with a kiss.

“I won't” he promised then, when he started to make love to his
beloved, “I won't!!!”

And he did his best to keep his promise. 

And yet, Estel's eyes were round as saucers when Legolas positioned
himself and carefully entered him, first with one finger, then
another and another. Trust shone in the young Adan's eyes, but it
mingled with apprehension and fear. 

Then Legolas' finger found Estel's sweet spot, and the young man
shouted in surprise. 

“What was that?” he finally asked when he could breathe again.
Legolas marveled at the expression of wonder in his eyes.

He smiled. “That is the reason why it is well worth it,” he said,
and plunged down on his lover, and Estel gave himself willingly
over to him. 

Their coupling was pure bliss. When Estel reached his peak, it was
the expression of    abandon and ecstasy on the young human's face
that undid his lover. / //

They had often lain like this together, in their first, blissful
year. He had never forgotten any of these moments,  and he had
treasured every single one deep in his heart. As he had done with
every single time Aragorn let him have him later, rare as it had
been,  after the change when they had become master and slave.
Every single occasion was a memory he would relish until the end of
Arda, if he was to live that long.

And now Estel was giving him this gift again.

It was bliss. It was pure, wonderful bliss, feeling Estel's body
closing around him, feeling his little movements, hearing his
gasps, feeling his flesh fluttering against him. Joy surged through
him, elation that Estel would give him this, and every moan and
gasp filled him again with joy that he was allowed to give such
pleasure. When Legolas finally reached his peak and spilled himself
inside his human's body, he shouted Estel's name and heard Estel's
answering whisper of his own. He was flooded by joy, riding the
bliss closing around them both in waves. At last, he collapsed
exhausted over his lover's body, resting a moment before he slipped
out to separate them.

// / When he was done and their bodies were separated, he held his
young lover in his arms, glowing in love and gratitude. Finally, he
noticed Estel's wide eyes, looking at him in wonder. He felt a
sudden surge of concern. “Did I hurt you?”he asked.

At first, the human bravely shook his head. Then he gave in. “A
little,” Estel admitted. “But you were right, the pleasure was well
worth it!”

Legolas smiled back at him. “I'm glad,” he said. “I've never done
this before.”

Estel stared at him incredulously. “You didn't--?! But I
thought!--”

Legolas shook his head. “I have been taken, yes. But I have never
taken anyone myself. Until today,” he said. “I am a slave,
remember? A slave is taken by his master, not the other way round.
It *simply isn't done*!” 

Estel scowled at his bitter statement. “Not with me, you aren't,”
he said. “But I am glad you did not do this before with anyone.”

Legolas looked at him questioningly. Estel kissed him.

“This way, we have something that just belongs to us,” the young
human said. “Something that just belongs to you and me. Thank you!”
he concluded. “Thank you for this gift. I love you!”

“And I love you,” Legolas answered him, and meant it, “with
everything I am.” He kissed his lover again. “Thank you, Estel.
Thank you!” / //


Legolas opened his eyes and looked at his human master. Aragorn's
eyes smiled back at him. Legolas could not resist; he brought their
mouths together in a kiss. 

“Thank you,” he said then. “Thank you, Estel!”

“It was my pleasure, Little Leaf,” his *Adan* said. “I would give
myself to you more often if it would but keep you alive.” He
reached out and caressed his Elf's face. Legolas savored the
caress; but he noticed his master's slight tension.

He looked down between them, and saw Aragorn's still just half-
erect member lying dormant and unspent between the *Adan's* legs.

Aragorn had hardly been aroused. All the pleasure they had shared
tonight had hardly made him stir.

It was too much. Legolas could not help  himself. He broke down,
buried his face in Aragorn's chest and cried.

Aragorn tenderly held him against himself, petting his head.
Finally, he placed a soft kiss on the bowed head and reached down
to tilt his slave's face up to his own again. 

“If you cry every time I let you take me, Little Leaf, you will
bring me to the conclusion that it is a very bad idea,” he joked
gently. 

Legolas just shivered in his arms. He couldn't answer.

Aragorn kissed his cheeks. “Please don't grieve so, Little Leaf,”
he said. “I told you that I do not need to spill myself to enjoy
having you take me. You gave me great pleasure tonight. Truly!” He
placed kisses over his Elf's eyes. “Please don't cry anymore!”

Legolas swallowed, trying to stop his tears. “Forgive me, master,”
he croaked. “It s just...”

He looked up into Aragorn's sad, grief-filled eyes, and suddenly he
could not stand it anymore.

“Take me, My Lord,” he begged. “Please! *Take me*!”

For a moment, Aragorn stared back at him without comprehension.
Then he swallowed.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “I would – I would have to hurt you
again, Little Leaf. I do not want to hurt you, tonight.”

Legolas felt as if his heart would break.

“Please,” he said. “I'm sure. Please, take me, my Lord. I need to
feel you!”

Aragorn looked into his face for another moment, then he gasped.
“All right,” he said hoarsely, “if you're sure...”

Arousal and desire surged through him and replaced his hesitation.
He sat up and straightened himself, pushing his slave back.
“Kneel!” he commanded harshly.

Legolas obeyed, head bowed, legs spread, in the submissive pose
requested by his master. 

Aragorn breathed harshly. “Remember that you asked for this,” he
warned. “Come here. I want your ass over my knees, face down. And
do not move, or shout. *You are to keep silent*. Do you
understand?!”

Legolas nodded. He did not look up, just followed the command. When
his master harshly grabbed his hair to hold him in place and
smacked his hand down on his ass, setting off long-trained
reactions of mixed pain and arousal, he gave himself over to the
familiar sensation.


It did not take much. The fact alone that Legolas had *asked* for
this, had begged him to be taken, especially after their tender
sharing earlier tonight, was enough to spark Aragorn's arousal and
make him hard and ready with much less than the usual amount of
harshness. When he took his slave, roughly and demandingly, he
nevertheless took care to bring Legolas to hardness and made him
reach his peak, too. When he spilled himself within the Elf's body,
he was overwhelmed by gratitude and held his Elf a long time after
they sank down beside each other, completely exhausted.

Finally, they lay beside each other, huddled into each other's
arms. Legolas nestled against him, shivering, but clearly unwilling
to let go. Aragorn stroked over his slave's hair silently, thinking
back to their earlier sharing. 

Legolas' unbelievable tenderness, his sweet eagerness, his shining
eyes... still to be given such a gift after all he had done to his
Elf filled him with gratitude. And yet... For a moment, an
unwelcome thought settled into the back of his mind, filling him
with sudden, rekindled arousal.

*Maybe when this Quest was done they could repeat something like
this. But maybe then, he could have Legolas tie him up, making the
whole thing even more exciting by denying himself any way to urge
his slave on save by command. And maybe he could use a paddle on
Legolas before, just enough to brighten his ass and make him hurt;
and maybe he could make him wear a carag(1),  just big enough to
remind him he was owned, and maybe he could  trap his erection,
too, allowing the Elf  to come only when he received permission to
remove the trappings...*

The unbidden images were enough to make him gasp and bring him to
sudden, instant hardness. 

Then he recalled the love and worship in Legolas' eyes as his Elf
made love to him earlier that night, and loathed himself. Bile rose
in his throat. How could he even *think* to take this unbelievable
gift of trust and love and twist it in such a way for his own
pleasure?

Nay. He would die before he went so far as to do that.


Carefully and full of grief he stroked over the golden hair of the
shivering Elf nestled against him, holding to him as if for sheer
life.

“We need to go back,” he finally reluctantly said, “we will be
missed already.”

Instead of following his command, Legolas just burrowed deeper
against him, shaking his head a little.

“Please, My Lord,” the Elf begged, “not yet. Hold me, Estel. Just a
little longer.”

Wordlessly, Aragorn enfolded the shivering slave more tightly in
his arms. If it was necessary, he decided, they could stay like
this all night – a small respite from the total mess he had made of
the beauty and the love they once had shared together.


____________ o ______________


PART V – Past and Present III: Caught


In the end Aragorn found he needed to shake his drowsy slave  awake
and help him dress, then gently steer him back to the camp. Legolas
seemed incapable of staying awake for long, and Aragorn asked
himself how much sleep – or rather, peaceful dreams – his slave had
had during these last few nights. Apparently, it wasn't much. He
hoped sincerely that tonight, at least, would be better. At least
neither of them had any watch-duty tonight.

Returning to camp, he offered the Dwarf on guard only a short nod
and then busied himself spreading out both their bedrolls close to
each other, setting their weapons into easy reach and directing his
Elf on the bedroll beside him. Tucking them both under their
combined blankets, he proceeded to enfold Legolas back into his
arms. Tonight, at least, the Elf was about to get some much-needed
rest, if he could help it. Contented by the trust with which his
Elf immediately burrowed deeper against him, he relaxed and soon
fell into peaceful sleep.


Legolas dreamed....


// / Legolas could hear the trees whispering around them. Warm sun-
rays filtered through the thick canopy above them, and everywhere
the birds were singing their songs to greet the early summer. It
was as if all the wood around him and Estel  shared in their
happiness. He lay, contentedly nestled in his young lover's arms,
on the mossy ground, still caught in the afterglow of their slow
and tender love play. Estel was busy painting idle patterns on
Legolas' chest and listening to the forest-song around them.
Legolas just savored the moment, glad of his lover's tender
caresses.

“You know, you are beautiful,” Estel finally said. “You truly
belong in this forest. You are glowing like all those green leaves
up there. Only that *you* are *mine*. You are *my* little leaf, and
unlike them, you only belong to me!”

Legolas idly swatted at his teasing finger, then he frowned. He
craned his head at his younger lover. “What did you call me?” he
asked.

Estel smiled mischievously. “Little Leaf,” he said. “*My* Little
Leaf. It fits, don't you think?”

Legolas drew his brows together, starting to say: “Who are you
calling 'little',” but then a thought flitted through his mind  and
he started. Frowning a little, he carefully asked: “Don't you like
my real name, Estel?”

His lover frowned and looked at him a little startled. “Of course I
like your name!” he protested. “It's a beautiful name; it fits
you!” Slowly, drawing out every syllable, he continued: ”*Legolas*
- Greenleaf, glowing with all the fresh life of the forest. It is
as beautiful as you!” he concluded, smiling. “Why?” He noticed
Legolas' remaining frown, and hurried to ask with concern: “What's
wrong?”

Legolas hesitated. “Nothing. Just... if you like my name... why do
you call me with a pet name then?” he asked a bit hesitantly. He
saw Estel's stunned and a little hurt expression and hurried to
explain: “It is just... your brothers...”
he stopped helplessly. But Estel had understood. He smiled and
kissed him.

“I know. They rarely call you by your name. They always call you
'Pet' or something equally belittling. Only I and of course
Glorfindel ever call you by your name. I think, Glorfindel does so
always. He even calls you 'Greenleaf' when he's speaking Westron,
or Quenya!”

Legolas nodded, dismayed he had to spoil this wonderful moment with
such a discussion. “I know. He does so to make a point; it is a
gesture of respect,” he said carefully. “I am very honored that he
cares so much.”

Estel looked at him keenly for a moment and cocked a brow. “While I
do not?” he asked. Then he smiled and shook his head. He took his
lover's shoulders and said seriously: “But 'tis not meant as a
sign of disrespect when I call you such. 'Tis an endearment! It is
a name I use for you as my beloved, a name for you that just
belongs to me! And it is just reserved for us! It just belongs to
you and me. Something special, as you are for me!” He carefully
held Legolas' gaze. “Do you not like it?” 

Legolas felt himself melt under his lover's earnest affection. He
leaned forward and kissed him soundly.

“You can call me anything,” he said, “For whatever name you give to
me will always be an endearment to me.” And he believed it at this
moment between them, to the very core of his heart. 

Estel beamed at him.

“Then I will do so,” he said, “From now on you will be my Little
Leaf to me,” he kissed Legolas again, on mouth and both eyes, as if
to seal their bond, “and I will be yours. Your Estel.”

“You always are Estel to me,” Legolas murmured, “you always were.”

Estel settled back into the moss and returned to painting idle
patterns on his lover's skin.

“You know,” he began again after a while, “I have been thinking.”

Legolas had been staring up into the green canopy above them
following the path of the fireflies dancing in the sunlight. Now he
turned his head back to his human lover. 

Estel didn't meet his gaze. He seemed fascinated by the patterns he
was drawing.

“I've been thinking about you and me, and about the future,” he
said. “I hate it that you belong to my brothers. You should belong
to *me*. I mean, *just* to me. We are together most of the time,
anyway.”

Legolas felt a pang of dismay. Why did his lover need to spoil this
wonderful moment with thoughts and comments like that? Their
official roles would catch up with them soon enough, as soon as
they had to return to the house. And even more, what waited for
them in the future... He refused to think about later. 

So he merely wrinkled his brows and remarked mildly: “I am their
slave, remember? And I am bound to them by the spell. I will have
to lie with them again, soon. And in any case, if they command me
to their bed, I have to obey.”

Estel looked pained. “That's it exactly,” he said fiercely, “it
shouldn't be that way. You should belong to *me*! And I should be
able to give you what you need, not them!”

Legolas sighed. “Estel,” he began, but Estel shook his head.

“No,” he said with sudden determination, looking up and meeting his
gaze, “hear me out! I want us to remain together! I want you to be
*mine*!”

Legolas was somewhat startled by his sudden fierceness, and at the
same time Estel's passion was greatly endearing. However, neither
of them had power over this. So he began again, tiredly: “Estel...”

Estel looked down again. He bit his lips. His face held a
determined expression.

“You know,” he said again, “I will be twenty a few months from now.
I will reach my majority. When I come of age, father will probably
give me a special gift. It's customary!”

Legolas tensed a bit. He wished Estel had chosen another topic. He
knew how much the prospect of his majority meant to Estel, when he
would  finally  become an adult in law and gain all the privileges
attached to this. Of course he didn't begrudge Estel his coming of
age, but he could not help his own feelings of fear and dismay at
the thought, because it also meant that he and Estel likely would
have to part.  Gilraen, Estel's mother, had dropped hints lately
that Estel's late real father, whose name she still refused to
disclose, had been one of the Dunedain, like herself. Estel was
eager to find out more about his heritage and  planned to seek out
the Rangers when he came of age, maybe even spend some time with
them. And as much as Legolas wished for Estel to find out from whom
he stemmed, it also meant Estel would leave Rivendell, and when he
did,  Legolas would lose him. Legolas could not bear this thought.
He just couldn't. So he had tried hard during these last few months
to banish any thought about the future and relish just what they
had together now, as long as it  lasted. He did not want to think
about later. 

But obviously, Estel did. And he looked at him expectantly.

Legolas forced himself to nod. “I know,” he answered quietly.
“Glorfindel told me about it. It's customary to honor the majority
of any son of the house, by giving the young warrior a special
gift. Your brothers talked the other day about the ones given to
them at their time. Elrohir got a precious chain mail made of
truesilver(2) that once belonged to Gil-Galad, and an enchanted
sword that glows when Orcs are close. And Elladan got a special
horse, said to descend from Nahar himself, Orome's stallion(3).”

Estel smiled at him. “Exactly!” he affirmed. “But I don't want a
horse, or any form of armor, even be it made of mithril! I want
*you*!”

Legolas looked at him, dumbfounded. Estel beamed at him.

“Don't you see?” he asked, “It's perfect! I will ask my father for
a slave. A special slave, belonging solely to me, as my own
property and without any restrictions. I will ask him for you! I
won't accept anything else. He will have no choice but to give you
to me!”

Legolas was startled. “You... want me to become your slave?” he
asked alarmed.

Estel looked at him,  registering his alarm, and kissed him
thoroughly. “Of course!” he affirmed then. “At least in name. I
want you to belong to me officially. I want us to belong together!
Think about it! You will be mine. Nobody save me will be allowed to
touch you. The spell will be extended to me, so every time we make
love I can give you what you need. And we will be together! We will
remain together as long as I live. I could protect you! Nobody
would be allowed to hurt you anymore, except with my explicit
permission. Which of course I won't give!”


His eyes held Legolas' gaze, pleading with him to understand.

“I cannot set you free. You are a Mirkwood hostage, and father will
not free you or your people just because I demand it. Nor can we
force him,” he said. “And you are bound by this accursed spell, so
we can't even run away together!  But I can make sure that we
remain together! And you would not be just a hostage in my care.
You would be my sole   property, for me alone to use and handle as
I wish. Father could not even punish you on a whim or take you back
from me again to make you pay for some perceived slight another
hostage - or your father's realm  - committed. Nobody could gainsay
me if I treated you gently! No need of hiding our feelings any
longer, no need to keep from touching when we are in public, no
more fear what my brothers may wish to do to you! You would belong
to me! You would be mine, and it would be my business alone how I
treated you! It would be perfect!”

After a moment, he added fiercely: “And I would take you with me
when I leave. We could explore the world together. You would be
fighting by my side, and be my lover, wherever we go. Wouldn't you
like that, too?”

Legolas looked at him. He was touched by Estel's fierceness, his
intensity. And what Estel said sounded good, of course. Still... He
swallowed.

“Elrond will never allow that,” he said with conviction. “And your
brothers... why should they agree to give me up?”

He shook his head, bleakly. ”It will never work.”

Estel shrugged. “Father won't know you'll be and mean much more to
me than just my slave,” he said, “and my brothers won't object.
They have practically given you to me already, as it is. They will
be happy to do it officially, now; I bet they plan to do so
anyway.”

He kissed his lover again.

“Do not worry so, beloved! It will work out just perfectly. You'll
see! And nobody will ever have the power to part us again! You will
be truly mine. I cannot be parted  from you, and I won't. We will
remain together, as we belong.”

Legolas savored the kiss. He wished he could be as sure as Estel
that everything would be all right, but he could not shake the fear
that something might go horribly wrong. And yet, staying a lifetime
with Estel sounded and felt exactly like everything he wanted. He
would not have to fear being parted from the one he loved. He would
stay with Estel, as long as Estel lived. What could be better?

“I would like that very much,” he said. “I would be honored to
belong to you, Estel.”

Estel smiled.

“Make love to me,” he invited. “I want to feel you inside me again.
I am so happy we won't have to part. I love you!”

“And I love you, Estel,” Legolas said. “I truly do!” 

And he began to kiss and stroke his younger lover fervently. Soon
they were eagerly sharing kisses and tender caresses again. Legolas
dedicated himself to the worship of his lover's body with abandon.
He resolved to take it slow and concentrated on bringing his lover
to his peak with tongue and mouth before he would proceed to sheath
himself in him. He smiled at Estel's little sounds  of pleasure and
his moans of protest at the slow pace. So engulfed was he in his
thorough worship, that he didn't notice for some time that
something was very wrong.

But finally it registered in his mind that there was danger. He
frowned. All his instincts were on alert, and something in the back
of his mind was screaming. He stopped his slow suction of Estel's
engorged member, and his head came up, listening. Then it
registered.

The forest was silent. The trees were screaming a warning at him.

Alarmed, he let go of his lover's body and rose up. He ignored
Estel's petulant protest: “Legolas, what's wrong? Don't stop now!”
-- but it was too late. 

“What is this?” a sneering voice cut into their intimate moment. ”
What do you think you're doing with that slave?! Giving yourself to
him like a slut? How disgusting!”

Startled and disturbed, Estel's head came up beside him. Legolas
turned, and they found themselves staring into the derisive face of
Erestor.


________________ o _________________


Legolas was shell-shocked. He had to admit he admired Estel's quick
recovery, for it took the young human only a heartbeat to shake off
his stunned expression. Then Estel's posture changed and he
narrowed his eyes.

“What do you mean, Lord Erestor?”he asked haughtily and with just
the right amount of arrogance, “I should think it was obvious
enough what I was doing. I'm taking pleasure in this slave!” 

He shrugged. “Legolas *is* a pleasure-slave, is he not? So I am
using him according to his purpose. I do not see, however,  in
which way this matter would be any of *your* business!”

Legolas had to swallow at his tone. He quickly bowed his head in a
submissive gesture, schooling his face to blankness and kneeling as
was his duty in the presence of his betters. But it was hard to get
control over his feelings. He knew Estel was lying, that he only
said what Erestor needed to hear. He *had* to be lying, hadn't he?!
Legolas hurried to cut off this train of thought and stopped
himself from flinching lest he betray them both with his reaction.
He knelt, head bowed, as he was supposed to.

He could not see the face of the Noldor Lord in this pose, but he
didn't need to; Erestor's sneer was audible in his voice. 

“You take your pleasure in this slave?” the Noldor mocked,
“Although he  belongs to your brothers? I wasn't aware that the
Lords Elrohir and Elladan were in the habit of sharing! Except of
course when it comes to the Lord Glorfindel. How does it come to
pass you use the slaves of others without permission?”

Legolas could not help flicking his gaze quickly to the face of
Estel, who was still sitting on the ground beside him, obviously
unwilling to give up his position and activity just due to
Erestor's intrusion. Estel's eyes were cold as glaciers; they
didn't betray any of the human's emotions.

“Why would you think  I  haven't their permission?” the Adan asked
coldly. “I am their brother after all! *Of course* I have their
permission! I was invited. Now, if you do not mind, I'd like this
slave to finish what he started, so if  you would kindly leave and
let me have my privacy?”

Erestor sneered angrily. But he didn't walk away. Instead, he took
a step closer and reached for Legolas. 

Legolas sensed his motion more that he saw it. He quickly rolled
himself out under the Noldor's hand and well out of reach. He
forced himself not to jump up and attack, but to stay on his knees,
albeit in a position slightly behind and to the side of Estel's
reassuring presence.

Erestor growled. He made another step forward, but was blocked.

Estel jumped up the same moment Legolas started to move. Now he
stood, placing himself threateningly between his lover and the
Noldor Elf. 

“What do you think you are doing?” he hissed. “This slave is not
*yours* to touch! Go get your own!”

Erestor glowered, but then he made a haughty face.

“I was just going to take him to your father,” he said. “Apparently
that slave has overstepped his limits and shared himself with
others than the ones to whom he has been given. Our Liege-Lord may
decide if he accepts your claim of invitation or if there needs to
be a harsher punishment!”

Estel didn't move. “I don't believe it is *your* business with whom
my brothers decide to share their slave,” he snarled, “or even the
decision of our father. Legolas is *their* property after all, and
it is *their* decision whom they decide to invite into sharing him.
I ask you again, Lord Erestor, to leave and grant me my privacy
now.”

Legolas had to swallow at his posture. From his position, he could
no longer see Estel's face, but the set of the shoulders of his
lover – and his voice – spoke volumes. Estel was every ounce the
warrior he had come to be, and he did not seem perturbed in the
least by the mere fact that he was completely naked. Even more, he
was deadly angry now. Legolas suspected that the young Adan was
just a breath away from throttling the advisor of his foster-
father.

Erestor didn't budge. 

“If you wanted your privacy, why didn't you take your little bed-
toy to your chambers?” he sneered, “Why did you take him here? No!
I think your foster-father will hear about this! And he won't be
amused that the human he took in and raised as his own son rewards
his generosity by dallying with a lowly slave in the woods as if he
had no sense of decency!”

Estel tensed, obviously preparing to answer, or to attack, but at
that moment another voice cut in.

“Maybe he *liked* it here, Lord Erestor,” the new speaker said,
“what better place to enjoy taking a delicious body than this
beautiful clearing, covered from sight by greenery and accompanied
by the lovely song of birds? Maybe the young Lord Estel simply did
not expect he'd be disturbed by anyone who might happen to stumble
over them, but thought whoever would do so would be polite and
discreet enough to silently move on and choose another place for
themselves.”

Erestor spun in the direction of the voice. Legolas suppressed a
sigh of relief, but could not help shooting their rescuer a
grateful look. 

It was Lord Glorfindel, and he looked every inch as if he had just
happened to come across them by chance.


Estel turned to the other Noldor Lord and greeted him with a
respectful nod. For the first time, he looked slightly embarrassed
by his own nakedness, Legolas noticed.

Erestor narrowed his eyes. “Lord Glorfindel!” he said, “What a
surprise to meet you here! This forest seems quite crowded today.
May I ask what brings you to this place?” He hadn't missed the fact
that the golden headed Noldor was not wearing any weapons, other
than his usual long knife. The Seneschal had not been hunting, or
on patrol duty, then.

Glorfindel shrugged and held his gaze. “Obviously the same as you,
Lord Erestor,” he replied coolly. “I was enjoying this wonderful
day and took a walk. With just the difference that when I realized
the young Lord Estel had chosen this place to indulge his pleasure
with some company I resolved to choose another way. I was going to
leave them  to their privacy. Until the noise of your argument
brought me back. I thought that there had been an attack!”

Erestor glared at him. *“Some company?!”* he asked, “He was using
his brothers' slave! I hardly think...”

“And Estel has just explained to you that he has his brothers'
invitation to do so,” Glorfindel interrupted him. “So I think it
would be prudent to leave him to it now, don't you agree?”

Erestor thinned his lips. 

“I still think our Lord Elrond will be most interested to hear
about this,” he growled, “and I doubt very much he will  be pleased
to learn what his foster-son is doing!” He sent a last, glaring
gaze over the tableau of the other Noldor Lord, the glowering human
and the kneeling slave. 

Then he spun on his heel and started on the way back towards the
house. “You can be sure that he will hear about this!” he threw
over his shoulder. Then he was gone.

Legolas let out the breath he had been holding. So did Estel. The
human spun around towards his lover.

“Are you all right?” he asked quietly, kneeling down by Legolas'
side, “did he manage to touch you?”

Legolas just shook his head. He was badly shaken, and he was still
having trouble getting over the things Estel had said on his
behalf. Of course Estel had been lying. He *knew* he had been
lying! Still...

Glorfindel had hesitated another moment, listening. When he was
sure Erestor was gone, he stepped close, slightly touching
Legolas' shoulder.

“I'm sorry I wasn't in time to warn you,” he said with regret.
“When I saw Erestor heading this way, I followed him, but I wasn't
fast enough.”

Then he rounded on Estel.

“What did you mean, you were just 'using this slave according to
his purpose'?!” he asked angrily. 

Estel paled under his accusations, but held his gaze defiantly. “I
just told him what he needed to hear,” he defended himself.
“Legolas knows that I don't feel that way.” He turned to his lover
with concern. “You do know I love you, do you not?” he asked
anxiously, “you *do* know I didn't mean it?”

Legolas held his gaze and swallowed. “I do, Estel,” he said
quietly.

Estel hugged him, and he closed his eyes a moment, grateful for the
affirmation.

Glorfindel interrupted them. 

“I'm glad you didn't mean it,” the Noldor Lord said, “but we hardly
have time for this! You know that this can mean Legolas' death, do
you not? What did you think you were doing, letting yourself be
caught unawares?! Erestor will be on his way to Elrond now. We must
be fast!”

Estel paled, mouthing tonelessly: “-- Death?”

Legolas bowed his head, contrite. “I'm sorry,” he said, “we should
have been more alert. I should have--”

Estel silenced him with a touch. “We were both unaware,” he said.
“Don't blame yourself for this!”

He looked up to Glorfindel, desperate. “What should we do? I
haven't really asked my brothers...”

Glorfindel met his gaze, glaring at him, and he flinched. “Anyway.
I cannot let Legolas be killed! There has to be a way!--”

Glorfindel cursed. He shook his head.

“I thought as much,” he said. “This is bad. Very bad. But not
everything is lost yet.” He turned his frowning gaze back on Estel.
“Cover yourself and run back to the house. Seek out your brothers.
Hurry! You need to warn them so they can cover your lie!” he urged.
“I will talk to Elrond. And you, Legolas,” he turned back to the
slave, “dress yourself and go back to your masters. Stay with them,
whatever happens! They may punish you, but they will protect you!
Don't let yourself be caught by Elrond or by his guards alone!”

Legolas bowed to the Seneschal, grateful for his counsel, and
hurried to follow his command. Soon he and Estel were covered in
clothing again. Sharing a last, quick hug – possibly the last they
would ever share – they then started back toward the house and to
whatever fate would wait for them there.


________________ 0 __________________


“What were you thinking?!” Elladan's voice cut into Estel, and he
flinched. “Letting yourself be caught unawares like that! And while
using our pet without permission!”

Estel bristled. “I was invited!” he insisted. “You invited me
yourself, remember? That day shortly after I fought my first
battle?”

Elladan glared at him. “You declined as I recall,” he objected. 

Estel opened his mouth to answer, but he was relieved of it by
Elrohir, who was standing beside their kneeling slave, petting him
casually. Legolas was shivering under his attentions.

“Oh, come on, brother, it's not as if we didn't know!” he said
reasonably. “Estel took Legolas shortly afterwards, and they have
been together ever since. We both knew that, and we did tolerate
it. It was quite sweet actually to see them holding hands together
whenever Estel thought himself and our pet unobserved.”

Elladan turned his head to him, annoyed by his interference, then
he glared down at their kneeling slave. “Yet still the fact remains
that our pet has shared himself without explicit permission!” he
insisted. He turned fully to Legolas. “You know that we can have
you killed for that? Or mutilated?” he hissed.

Behind him, Estel shouted, horrified: “No! Elladan, it was *my*
fault, not his! You cannot do that!”

Elladan ignored him, staring down at their kneeling slave and his
twin brother, now crouching beside him. “Look at me!” he bellowed.

Legolas did not dare immediately to look up and meet his master's
eyes. The first thought flitting through his head was a cynical
'they need an excuse?' -- but *that* was certainly nothing he could
dare to share with his masters. After a moment, he finally forced
himself to look up as he had been commanded, and whispered
tonelessly: ”I know, My Lord.”

Elrohir beside him smiled and shrugged.

“We will not do that, though” he said silkily, stroking over the
shivering slave's back and shoulders. “You are far too lovely to
waste you in such a way! But we may think up a prolonged punishment
for you, if only to make a point!” He stroked the back of their
slave some more in counterpoint to his threatening words and smiled
as Legolas flinched under his touch.

Elladan nodded thoughtfully. “We may even make our dear brother
Estel watch, since he was the one who brought it down on you,” he
said with a sidelong glance at their human brother.

Estel paled visibly again. “No! Don't hurt him! He only did what he
was told to do! If you wish to punish someone, punish me! Besides,
I will not participate in anything that will hurt Legolas!” he
said. 

Elladan turned on him angrily. “Oh, yes, you will!” he hissed. “You
will do everything we tell you to sort out this mess you made! You
have done enough, letting yourself be caught like that, so now you
will do everything needed to make sure we can cover your hide!”

Estel paled even more under his tone yet opened his mouth to answer
defiantly: “But...”

Elladan took a step into his direction and Estel stopped. “No
'buts', little brother,” Elladan hissed. “You will do exactly as we
say! You will do whatever we demand of you for this! It will be
hard enough already, as it is, to save our pet and cover up this
mess. Father will be here shortly, and he will be livid! We will
tell him you had our permission, of course, but it will be hard
enough to soothe his wrath! He may demand our slave to be killed,
or take him away from us as punishment and give him to somebody
else. Erestor, for example, who wanted so long to have a share of
him!”

Behind him, Elrohir added sleekly while stroking through Legolas'
hair: “And that would be such a waste, would it not?”

Estel flinched and locked his gaze with Legolas, desperate,
frightened grey eyes meeting equally fearful blue ones. 

Then Estel shook his head and looked to Elladan again. “No!” he
whispered tonelessly. “Please, don't let this happen! Save him!
I'll do anything, but please save him from father's wrath!”

Elladan glared back at him, but then he nodded. “If we can, we
will,” he said angrily. “But you had better leave now to make sure
of that! Father will be on his way already, and he had better not
find you here!”

Estel looked at him, then shared a last glance with Legolas.
Legolas tried to look hopeful for him, but failed.

Estel seemed to understand, though. He bowed his head.

Then he looked up again at Elladan and nodded. “Be strong,
beloved,” he whispered with a last, short glance at Legolas, then
he turned and left.

_______________ o ______________


// / Legolas turned  in his sleep and moaned, He knew he was
dreaming, he knew he was caught in a memory, and he knew he didn't
want to  continue this dream. Yet he couldn't wake up. He huddled
deeper into the arms of the human who held him, but Estel was
deeply asleep, too,and obviously he didn't register his slave's
tossing in his arms. There was no escape from this dream, then; he
had to relive the memories again./ //


Estel didn't leave the chambers of his brothers a moment too soon.
For only moments after he had left, they heard the angry
approaching steps of Lord Elrond. The door opened, and there was
the Lord of Rivendell, angry as an approaching storm. Elladan met
his father's gaze, standing slightly between him and his brother
Elrohir. Elrohir stood upright, too, but he didn't leave his place
beside their kneeling slave, and his left hand still rested
possessively on Legolas' head. 

Legolas took one look at the hated Elflord's face and quickly
lowered his eyes and bowed his head. For once he was grateful for
the closeness of his masters, and even Elrohir's normally so feared
and loathed touch reassured him. He huddled into the shadow of his
twin masters and tried his best to turn invisible. He knew that his
life was hanging on a thread and it was solely in the power of his
masters to save him, if they wished. All he himself might say or do
now would only make it worse. So  he bowed his head and tried to
turn into a  statue. 

Elrond was livid. And his mood wasn't improved by the tableau
presented to him. He took a threatening step into the room.

“What is this I hear?” he growled, “Your brother Estel has been
caught whoring around with your slave without permission? You were
careless enough about that slave that he could ensnare my foster
son and seduce him to share himself with him, and now Estel  gives
himself to that worthless Mirkwood spawn like a common slut?”

Legolas fought hard against the urge to jump up and attack. Only
the hand of his master, for a moment burying more  harshly in his
hair, held him in place and prevented him from giving in into his
fear and anger. Elrohir stood, as if nothing could ever shake him,
facing his angry father and lord with complete nonchalance. 

So did Elladan. He had turned a bit so Legolas and Elrohir could
see his face and he could at need share glances with his brother.
Now he raised a brow.

“Who says Estel used our slave without permission?” he asked,
feigning astonishment. “Of course he had permission. We invited
him!”

Elrond stopped short. “You allowed your brother to be ensnared like
this?!” he asked disbelievingly.

Elrohir, from his place beside Legolas, shrugged. “Oh, please!” he
said. “Who told you that he was 'ensnared'? He took pleasure in our
pet, as he was supposed to do! Estel is certainly old enough to
learn the ways of pleasure, is he not?”

Elladan nodded. “He has been a man for some time now, and he has
proven himself a worthy warrior. When do you think it's time he
learned what a man must know about bed-play? We thought that it was
time he learned how to answer his bodily needs in that direction as
well.”

Elrond paused. “He's nineteen...” he objected.

Elladan shrugged. “And he will be twenty in just a few months. You
said yourself that is the time he will come of age. We often ride
with the rangers, as you know. Many men have had  their first
experiences at an even earlier age. He 's certainly old enough to
enjoy a body warming his bed, don't you think?”

Elrond narrowed his eyes. *“With this slave?”* he asked
incredulously, nodding at Legolas.

Elrohir shrugged again. “Why not? He's available, he's ours, and
Estel likes him,” he argued. “Much better than if he had pursued
that doomed affair with that cooking girl. She's free after all,
and far under his station. What if she'd   demanded that he marry
her? That way our brother won't be sleeping around, and his needs
are taken care of. Moreover, it all stays within the family.”

Elladan added: “And Legolas will never hurt Estel. Our pet is
devoted enough to our brother, as it is.”

It was the wrong thing to say. Elrond furrowed his brows again and
turned his gaze back onto the kneeling slave, glowering. His eyes
glittered dangerously.

“And after all, why shouldn't he?” he mused with false
indifference, “when my foster-son is so devoted to him and lowers
himself to being his whore as if he has no decency at all! Erestor
tells me that Estel was in the process of letting himself be
devoured by this worthless Mirkwood-spawn when they were disturbed,
and then was even ready to defend him!” 

His voice held venom. 

Legolas paled visibly, schooling his face to blankness. It took all
his strength to remain silent and keep kneeling motionless, head
bowed, without showing emotion. All his instincts urged him to jump
up and to attack, to kill, first the hated Lord of Rivendell, then
the chief advisor if he got that far. At his side, Elrohir
tightened his grip in his hair warningly, keeping him in place.

The younger of the twins always had possessed an uncanny ability to
read him. 

Regardless  of Elrond's palpable anger, the twins seemed completely
unconcerned. Elladan merely raised a brow, Elrohir rolled his eyes.

“Oh, *Erestor*,” he said. “He has always been rankled that we never
allowed him to share our slave. He probably was jealous watching
Estel taking what he could not have. I think you should not place
too much weight on his testimony in this matter.”

Elrond gave him a hard stare. “You would accuse my chief advisor of
lying?” he asked dangerously.

Elladan cocked his head. 

“We merely imply that he may have *misjudged* what he saw,” he said
diplomatically. “I hardly can believe that Estel would allow
himself to be taken.”

He turned directly to the kneeling slave. “Look at me!” he
commanded. “Did Erestor find you entering our brother? Or did Estel
command you to enter him?”

Legolas swallowed. He was utterly grateful for the wording of the
question. Not daring to say too much, he merely met his master's
gaze and shook his head. “No, My Lord,” he whispered, blushing
furiously.

Beside him, Elrohir asked : “What did you do, then?”

Legolas swallowed again, fighting his fear and hatred. He could not
risk giving himself away.  Carefully phrasing his words, he
whispered again: “Your brother, My Lord, had me serving him with my
mouth. He... had enjoyed me earlier, already.”

It wasn't exactly a lie, and so he was able to hold Elladan's gaze
while he said it without flinching. And yet he felt as if he would
choke on the words. He hated Elrohir for forcing him to lay out for
him what he and Estel had shared together.

If the older twin saw through his deception, he at least didn't
show it. Elladan merely raised his other brow and turned back to
his father.

“I do not think that there is cause for alarm, then, Adar,” he said
calmly, “albeit I admit it would have been wiser if Estel had taken
his explorations to his chambers. But then, he likes the woods.”

Elrond scowled. His angry gaze turned back and rested on  the
kneeling slave, who now held his head humbly bowed again.

“There still remains the fact that he nearly attacked my advisor,”
he growled, “and in defense of that worthless slave! He apparently
needs to learn where his priorities should lie, and how to be a
proper master! And that *snake*,” - he nodded into the direction of
the slave- “needs to be taken care of!” 

He made a threatening step in Legolas' direction. 

Elladan took a casual step to the side that moved him between his
father and his younger brother. He began to protest: “But, Ada!--”

Elrond glared at him. But behind Elladan, at Legolas' side, Elrohir
merely raised a brow.

“Maybe,” he mused, “our brother could indeed use some instruction
how to properly use a slave. So far, we have just trusted his
curiosity and inventiveness. But there are so many lovely ways of
taking pleasure in a slave. Maybe it's time we taught them to him
in a more direct manner.” His hand, while he was speaking, was
sensually stroking through the kneeling slave's hair, and his eyes
rested on Legolas' body in a contemplative way.

Elrond paused. 

His second-born son was devious, he knew, and very inventive.
Normally, he did not trust Elrohir too far, for when it came to
plotting the younger of the twins had an uncanny genius of thinking
up the most intricate schemes to further his own and his twin's
advantage. He also had fairly few qualms. And when it came to
pleasure, the younger twin specialized in the more cruel arts and
had an eerily accurate gift for reading his victim's most
tormenting fears. 

This could be interesting.

Elrond gave his second son a measuring gaze, raising a brow. He
threw a short, grim look toward the kneeling form beside Elrohir's
knee. “Using *that slave*?” he barked.

Elrohir shrugged and smiled. “Why not?” he asked. “You just
complained about Estel and our Pet here being too close. What
better way to put our Pet back into his place than using him to
teach the harsher ways of pleasure to the very one you claim he has
ensnared? What better way to set Estel's mind right about what it
means to be a master and how to treat a slave, than teaching him to
use the one he always treated gently in a harsher way?”

Elrond hesitated. He studied the shivering slave beside his younger
son with glittering eyes.

Legolas was frozen. Elrohir's suggestion had him horrified, and he
had paled visibly under the proposal. 

His reaction did not go unnoticed. The Lord of Rivendell narrowed
his eyes and studied him thoughtfully.

“Very well,” he finally decided. “But I want to be informed about
the progress Estel makes! And you had better make sure he learns
not only how to take his pleasure, but also how to keep a slave in
line by command and discipline! I want you to make sure he learns
to be a proper master, with everything that includes, especially
concerning how to appropriately treat a slave and how to mete out
punishment!” 

He rounded on the twins. “Do I make myself clear?!” 

Elrohir simply held his gaze. “Perfectly clear, Adar,” he said, “I
do not think we will have any problems teaching these things to
him”

Elrond turned to him.

“Very good,” he said dangerously and coldly, “and I suggest you be
successful, because if you are not and I learn that Estel has been
ensnared for good I'll have that slave killed. I will not have my
foster-son corrupted into a weakling who doesn't know the
difference between his own standing and that of a worthless slave
and who knows not how to enforce respect and proper discipline in
those whose only purpose is to serve him.”

Elrohir cocked his head, obviously unperturbed. “I do not think you
need fear, Adar,” he said. “Estel may yet surprise you.” He smiled.
“So far, he has excelled at everything.”

He stroked over the hair of the kneeling slave suggestively. “We
will start his education today,” he said, “and give it our highest
priority.”

Elrond watched him for a moment with narrowed eyes. “See that you
do,” he barked, then he gave the slave a last, angry glare, and
went out.

The twins listened to his angrily retreating steps until they were
sure he was gone. 

Finally, Elladan let out his breath. “That was close,” he observed.
He sent a skeptical glance to his twin. 

“Are you sure that this will work?” he asked. “Estel adores our
pet. He even loves him. I do not think  he will suddenly develop a
taste for cruel bed-play, using him, or regard him merely as
another slave.”

Elrohir shrugged. “Do not judge too fast about the preferences of
our little brother,” he said mysteriously. “He may yet surprise
you. But in truth it doesn't really matter if Estel turns away from
Legolas, or how he regards our pet in the future.”

He crouched down beside the slave again and started petting him
lovingly, smiling as his victim shivered under his unwanted
attentions. Looking up, he met his brother's questioning gaze. 

He smiled. “The important thing is that father believed it,” he
explained. “Trust me! We will save our little pet from being
killed, get father to let Estel be with Legolas to his heart's
desire, and have a lot of fun on top of it all. All we must do is
keep father convinced that the plan is working.”

He looked back at their pet, and his smile widened. “And we will do
our best to keep him convinced,will we not? I'm sure you'll do your
very best serving all three of us together, me, Elladan and our
dearest Estel. Won't you, little Pet?”

Legolas trembled under his touch. He could not bring himself to
give an answer./ // 


____________ 0 ___________


-- End of Chapter VI c--


-- To be continued in CHAPTER VI d - PART VI - “Past And Present
IV: Master And Slave”


Notes:


(1) Carag – Sindarin: Spike. Short for taer carag aniron, straight
spike of desire – a pleasure staff or dildo; in this case: a butt-
plug. 

(2) Truesilver = Mithril.  This is completely made up by me. But I
reasoned: Why not? Why should only Bilbo own one of these things?
Gil-Galad was the last Noldorin High King after all, and they loved
mithril and valued it nearly above all else. Wouldn't he have
wanted to have a mithril chain-mail, too? And wouldn't he have
bestowed it on Elrond in case of his death, like his ring? 

(3) Orome (Sindarin name: Araw) is the name of the great huntsman
of the Valar, the protector of the forest. His horse is said to be
the ancestor of the Mearas of Rohan.