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

   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 d 	Through Eregion (Past and Present)– Part VI


PART VI – Past and Present IV: Master and Slave



// /“Absolutely not!”

Estel stood in the chambers of his brothers, angrily staring at the
tableau before him. Legolas was kneeling, head bowed, hair loose,
clad in a thin loose garment, not daring to look up. He was
trembling. The twins stood at both his sides. They were similarly
clad, except their clothes were made of finer fabric. They had
closed the windows and the shutters. The whole room was bathed in
warm, glowing light by numerous lit candles. Elladan had just
informed his foster-brother of their father's ruling. 

Estel, pale and angry, stood there like a warrior poised to attack
and violently shook his head. “You cannot do that!” he exclaimed.
“I'll have no part of this! You cannot force me!”

Elladan gave him a hard stare. He narrowed his eyes. 

“We have been over this!” he hissed, “You agreed to follow our
advice. You said you'd do anything!”

Estel looked at Legolas again, who looked up at him, eyes full of
despair. He shook his head once more. “Not that!” he exclaimed.
Then he turned towards the door determinedly. 

“I'll speak with Adar!” he said. “I tell him that whatever he does
to Legolas, he must also do to me! I tell him if he kills him, he
has to kill me, too!”

Legolas gasped, breathlessly. “Estel!”

At the sound of his voice, Estel hesitated and turned around to
give him a last look; his hand laid already on the doorknob. He got
no further. Elladan took three, fast steps across the room and
grabbed him by his shoulders, pressing his back against the wall.

“No, you will not!” the elder twin hissed angrily,”For if you do
that, you'll just convince father that he was right and you have
been 'ensnared' by Legolas. So he will kill our pet, and maybe a
few other hostages for good measure, and lock you into your
chambers until you come to your senses. Which may yet take a
while!”

Estel glared back at him, looking mutinous. But at Elladan's angry
words, Legolas flinched and gasped again. 

“No!” he whispered into the sudden silence, “No, not that! Please!
I'll do anything!--” He took a breath. “Estel, please!” he pleaded
then, uncaring whether he would be punished for speaking out or
not, “Don't make him kill my people!”

Estel flinched and turned his head to him. He looked torn.

Elladan narrowed his eyes, still staring at his youngest brother.
“And he will,” he hissed. “Nothing will get father more angry than
you openly standing up against him just to defend that Mirkwood
Elf! He will see it as a personal offense! And of course, in his
view, it will be Legolas' fault!”

Estel glared at him, then he shook him off. He crossed over to
Legolas and knelt down before him. 

“What should I do?”he asked quietly, taking the beloved face into
his hands. “I cannot hurt you!”

Legolas looked into his eyes and swallowed, grateful yet desperate.
How much he loved this human! But he could not allow Estel to
endanger his people. He needed to convince him to abandon his plan,
and he needed to do it fast. 

He took a deep breath. 

“I can take it,” he lied. “I can endure it, Estel. I am sure I
can!”

Estel looked at him, concerned and skeptical. “Are you sure?” he
whispered. “I cannot...”

Legolas nodded. “Yes, I am sure, Estel” he lied bravely. “I can
take all that I have to.” 
He tried to keep his fear out of his voice, but failed miserably.
He held Estel's gaze.
“Please! Do not give your father reason to hurt my people,” he
pleaded quietly.

Estel bowed his head, then he leaned his forehead against that of
his lover. 

“All right,” he croaked, “If you are sure...” 

His voice broke. Then he kissed his beloved on the mouth and both
eyes, as he had done that morning. “Then I will do it,” he said
raspingly, “but I will not enjoy it!”

He gave the kneeling slave a last, quick hug and stood, moving a
few steps away. His face was tear-streaked.

Elladan had made an angry step in the direction of the pair when
Estel knelt before the slave, but he was stopped by a gesture of
Elrohir. The younger twin watched the exchange between the lovers
thoughtfully.

Now he nodded and stroked approvingly over the slave's head. “Such
a brave Pet!” he praised, yet with a touch of mockery. “That is the
right spirit! Although you did not have our permission to speak. It
will have to add to your punishment, you know!”

He crouched down beside the slave, petting him slowly. His voice
adopted a seductive timbre.  He looked up to his foster-brother and
continued: “You see, Estel? He is completely devoted to you. He
would do everything for you, except maybe endangering his people.
And even of that I wouldn't be too sure if it was necessary to save
you from harm! Do you not wish to honor this great gift? Do you not
wish to savor how far he would go just to please you?”

Legolas shivered. Elrohir saw it and smiled.  

“Besides,” he said reasonably, still speaking to Estel, “how do you
know you will not like it if you never try? Look! See  his powerful
muscles, these strong legs, made for a runner capable to outrun a
horse, as we well know! These broad shoulders and deceptively
lithe, strong arms, that can wield so deadly and accurate a bow–
all that power, all that beauty, leashed and bound for you!
Submissively waiting for whatever game you wish to play, or
whatever pleasure or even punishment you may inflict on him.
Completely at your mercy!”

Legolas shivered under his words and touch. 

Estel swallowed.  He felt himself drawn in against his own will and
shook his head, briefly. He'd never thought about his lover this
way before, but had a hard time escaping the spell Elrohir's words
were weaving. Elrohir looked up to him and  saw his reaction. He
smiled. 

“See!” he continued while he slowly started to open the laces that
closed the garb the slave wore, “He's freshly bathed and cleansed
for you! He even purged and prepared himself, and oiled his body in
scented oil to please you. He's straining for your touch! Look at
this silken skin! Just begging to be marred a little by the whip. A
few delicious stripes to adorn the paleness... or maybe some blows
with the paddle, heating it up to rosy pink, or even angry red. And
then you'd make him strain for every touch, whimpering for your
attentions, although there would be pain mixed among the pleasure
you may decide to grant. All that power bound and submissive,
completely at your mercy. Don't you desire that?”

Legolas shivered. Elrohir had expertly freed him from the garb that
had covered him, and now he knelt completely naked beside the
younger twin. Elrohir's words were underlined by his touches,
stroking over his thighs, his buttocks and his sides, his arms and
shoulders, massaging his nipples. He swallowed hard, feeling
familiar, long-trained reactions setting in. He wasn't in need yet,
at least not badly, but his body was already eager for the touch
and the attentions of his masters. Yet that he should be forced to
display that reaction in front of Estel... His fear and loathing of
Elrohir's touch mingled with despair and mortification.

Elrohir knew that. His smile grew wider. 

“He is eager for you,” he said suggestively, “he is straining for
your touch and eager to give you pleasure... in whatever way
demanded. And he is here and going to suffer through whatever we
are going to do to him all for you. Would you deny him? Or would
you honor his devotion to you?”

Kneeling a little to the back of the slave, he threw the garb away,
took the hair of his victim in one hand, and pulled his head back.
Simultaneously, he placed the other hand at the small of his back
and shoved a bit. “Present yourself!” he commanded, “Show Estel
what you have to offer!”


At his command, the slave obediently spread his legs, arched his
back and tilted his head back, displaying his neck. He was
breathing hard, now. 

Elrohir smiled at his labored breathing and let his hands trail
over Legolas' chest, kneading his nipples. Then he let one of his
hands trail down to his victim's groin, massaging the half-erect
flesh languidly. Legolas' breathing quickened, and his member
started waxing, much against his own will. Elrohir stroked him
expertly, flicking a finger over the sensitive head and circling
the flesh there. His voice was low and dangerous.

“Make no mistake,” he purred, “you will suffer thoroughly, tonight.
We won't go very far, of course – we do not want to scare Estel,
now, do we? But still, this night won't be easy on you, and there
are many other lovely nights to come yet, after this one...” He
grazed one delicate ear with his teeth and grinned at the slave's
involuntary jerk. 

He licked slowly down the sensitive neck of his victim, then
scraped his teeth over the joint of neck and shoulders. Legolas
gasped. Elrohir's grin deepened. He continued to massage the groin
of his slave, coaxing the reluctant flesh to fill out and engorge.
His other hand trailed over Legolas' chest and sides and up to his
neck again, trailing across the sensitive skin, then dropping for a
moment back down to linger on his nipples.

“I think we'll have you wear the collar for us, tonight,” he
continued thoughtfully, “and clamps for your nipples, and some
weights. You'll taste the whip, of course, and the paddle. But
maybe we could make you wear a carag, too. Along with restraints
for your groin, so you'll stay all erect and excited until we are
done.  And some hot wax, definitely! If you are *very* good, we may
let Estel soothe your groin after we poured wax over it!”

Legolas swallowed a sob. He trembled harder. 

Elrohir's hand came up again, caressing his face. “He may even let
you find fulfillment,” he said seductively. “Of course only after
we all are done! Wouldn't you like that?”

Legolas shivered constantly now under the hated touch of the
younger of his masters. He could not help another sob. His breath
came hard and irregularly. He was all too aware of Estel's
presence. 


A few steps away, Estel watched with horrified fascination. The
display before his eyes was like nothing he had ever seen. Whatever
he had expected, it was nothing like this; he could see Legolas'
apprehension, but also his arousal, and the low timbre of Elrohir's
voice caught him and drew him in and sent shivers down his spine.
As did Elrohir's expert caresses of the beloved body, Legolas'
sensual reaction. Estel swallowed hard. He tried to clear his head.

Suddenly, he heard a noise behind him and spun around. He saw
Elladan, turning the key in the lock and bolting the door. Then the
older twin crossed over to a big chest at the other side of the
room, beside the broad bed, and began to rummage through it.

Estel swallowed again, irritated. He had completely forgotten
Elladan was there, too, for a moment. He heard Legolas gasp behind
him and turned around again.

Elrohir bowed over the upturned face of the slave and took his
mouth in a deep kiss. One of his hands had gripped the slave's hair
again, the other held his chin firmly in place. He came up again,
licking his lips, and his gaze fell onto his younger brother. 

Estel could not help himself. He stepped closer, as if drawn on
strings.

Elrohir saw it and smiled.

“You want to join in already?” he asked teasingly, studying the
human. He tilted his head.

“Nay, I think not! At least not now, while we are just getting
started. You will just watch at first. You may not interfere. You
can always join in later, any way you want. Legolas surely won't
object to having you close or feeling you touching him, will you,
Pet?”

He smiled at his victim, returning to kneading the slave's groin.

Legolas swallowed hard. He refused to answer. 

Elrohir grinned. He turned back to Estel.

“He may even like it! But first, watch and learn. You need to know
how to do this correctly, after all!”

Elladan suddenly turned up beside them, carrying a number of
intriguing items. Some, Estel recognized, and   shuddered at the
sight:  there were a whip with several, long lashes, a nasty-
looking riding crop and a wooden paddle. But there was also an
exquisitely worked, flat chest with intricate carvings, and two
oddly formed instruments he had never seen before. One looked like
a staff of balls of different size, the smallest one at the top,
the widest at the base over what looked like a handle. 
The other looked more conic, becoming wider at the base but then
narrowing again a little and  ending in an oddly flat, broad
handle. Estel stared at them in morbid fascination. He noticed,
that unlike him Legolas seemingly recognized the items well; he
paled at their sight, as well as at the sight of the carved box.
His eyes widened a bit and he trembled harder.

Swallowing hard, Estel forced himself to remain calm. He had to
remind himself what was at stake and that he couldn't, that he
*mustn't* interfere, that doing so would mean betraying Legolas to
death, that Legolas would never forgive him if he endangered his
people...

Frozen to the spot, he watched in mute fascination how Elladan
crouched down on the rug beside the slave and set the instruments
of torture carefully on the ground, a little to the side but still
in easy reach. Then the elder twin took the many-lashed whip and
stood again, looming threatening over the slave. 

“First you need to set the mood,” he explained, seamlessly taking
up Elrohir's explanation. “The build-up is important. You need to
let your slave anticipate what's coming, need to give him time to
fear and wonder. And, of course, to get excited for you.”

He gripped the handle of the whip and trailed the lashes slowly
over Legolas' bare shoulders, then his chest, still arched forward
as commanded, teasing the nipples, then he let the lashes trail
further down, tracing the belly, the thighs, the unprotected
groin... 

Legolas breath came hard and fast. He shuddered at the touch of the
lash at his most vulnerable flesh, frozen in apprehension. Then he
felt Elrohir's touch around his neck and suppressed a sob.

Elrohir leaned forward and took the little chest. He opened it
carefully and took out a broad, fine leather collar attached to a
thin, long chain. He set the chest aside, tucked the hair of the
slave out of the way and fastened the collar snugly around his
victim's neck. He placed the ring with the leash at the throat and
gave the leash an experimental tug. Legolas jerked a little
forward, and he grinned again. Finished, he leaned back a bit and
admired his work.

“Perfect!” he said, “Well and truly leashed, as you should be!” He
turned back to Estel. “He looks delicious like this, doesn't he?” 

Estel could not help himself. He swallowed hard again, strangely
captivated by the sight despite his best intentions.

He was distracted by Elladan, who had set the whip aside and
crouched down beside the slave again. Now the elder twin took two
items from the box and leaned in to take his victim's mouth in a
demanding kiss.

“Yes, he is,” he said, moving on to one delicate ear, “a real
feast, waiting to be tasted.” And with that, Elladan bit lightly
into the sensitive lobe, eliciting a gasp. 

Elrohir smiled. The younger twin stroked lightly over the back of
the slave, his other hand still firmly holding the leash. Then he
let go and took one of the oddly formed staffs, the one with the
different-sized balls. He retrieved a small flask from the box and
uncorked it; then he busied himself with coating the staff with a
clear, scented liquid. Closing the flask again, he set it aside and
made sure that the whole staff was well covered with the liquid.

Legolas could not suppress a shudder when he saw the younger of his
masters reaching for the *carag sern aniron(1)*. It was one of the
less painful toys in the twins' possession, but still it could be
quite vicious if it was fully inserted. He could not help a sigh of
relief when the familiar scent of the oil reached his nose. At
least Elrohir wasn't using the irritant in the other flask the box
contained! 


He was so occupied with the the actions of the younger twin, that
he momentarily forgot about the other one. He started when a slick
tongue licked again over his ear, then trailed down over the column
of his neck, occasionally accompanied by grazing teeth and little
nips, then finally settled on his nipples.

From behind, he suddenly felt his hair grabbed and painfully tugged
back again, forcing his head into his neck. “Arch your back!”
Elrohir commanded, “You have no leave to relax your pose save with
our permission!”

Mutely, Legolas obeyed. He tried to keep his face blank; he was
painfully aware of Estel's presence, who watched the proceedings
with  mute horror and fascination. He could not help his breath
coming fast and hard, though. Elladan teased Legolas' nipples
expertly, alternating  between teeth, hands and tongue. Against his
will, Legolas felt his face flush and his groin react. Then his
breath hitched when he felt himself entered from behind by
Elrohir's fingers.

Elladan worked the nipples under his mouth and hands until they
were fully erect and hard. Then he gave them both one  last, quick
bite - and closed the clamps first over the one, then the other.
Legolas started, but was stilled again by a harsh tug at his hair
by the other twin. “Be still!” Elrohir commanded. “You have no
leave to move! Besides,” he added with a purr, “this is just the
start. There is so much more to come yet!”

As if to underline his words, his twin reached into the box again
and took out two small, but heavy weights. He attached them
carefully, on to each clamp. Legolas swallowed hard under the
strain. Then Elladan leaned back and admired what he had done.

“Perfect!” he pronounced. “I think he is ready now!”

Elrohir shook his head. “Nay!” he said. “There remains still one
thing!” He removed his fingers and gave the slave a little shove,
grabbing the leash and tugging at it. “Lean forward!” he commanded
harshly, “Present your  backside to me!”

Shivering, Legolas obeyed. He bit his lips as his entrance was
pierced by the tip of the pebbled staff, and Elrohir worked the toy
expertly inside, stretching the tight muscle each time another –
and bigger – of the balls was forced in. Then the tip of the device
grazed over his sweet spot and his breath hitched again. He jerked.
A tug at his throat reminded him to keep from moving, and he tried
to remain calm as Elrohir rubbed the staff over the sensitive gland
within his passage again and again, making him helplessly and
achingly hard and straining to come. At the same time, he was
cringing inwardly at his own body's reaction. He had not been this
ashamed of his own enforced reactions to the manipulations of his
masters for a long time, anymore; but then, Estel had not been
present at these times, before.

Legolas was close to his peak. He could feel it in the building
pressure in his groin, the burning need for release. He did not
want this enforced arousal, hated his body's reaction, since he
knew what would happen next, but he could not help himself. Then he
felt hands closing around his groin and knew what was to come, and
he closed his eyes in shame and frustration. 

Estel stood, fists balled, tears on his cheeks, holding himself in
check with effort. It took all his strength not to intervene.
Again, he reminded himself with effort what was at stake, why he
mustn't interfere, why he had agreed on doing this in the first
place. At the same time, as much he tried to fight it, he could not
help his morbid fascination. The display before him was incredible.
Against his own better intentions, he felt his body react, felt
himself grow hot and hard. He swallowed, fighting his arousal. It
didn't seem to work.

With burning eyes he watched as Elrohir inserted the oddly formed
device into his lover's body, as Legolas reacted and became
obviously hot and ready from the movements of the thing within him,
breathing hard and fast while Elladan held his head down by the
leash attached to the collar. Then Elladan reached into the box
again and took out a small double noose made of leather. Using the
leash, he pulled Legolas' body  up again, then his hands closed
around the straining member of the Mirkwood Elf. He slipped the
smaller noose over the engorged flesh, then he buckled the other
around the groin, over the balls, tightening the nooses until the
straining maleness was trapped, and fastened the clasps. Legolas
moaned quietly. Elladan stroked over the trapped erection and
grinned evilly.

“*Now* he is ready!” he declared. “I think now it is time for the
whip!”

At this point, Estel finally found his voice again. “No!” he
croaked, “No! Please don't hurt him anymore!” He made a step
forward, meaning to intervene. 

Elladan turned around to him. “Do not interfere!” he hissed. “You
agreed to play along! You assured us of your compliance!”

Beside Legolas, Elrohir tilted his head. “Besides,” he added in a
calmer tone, “it is nothing our Pet here would not know. He's been
through this before. He told you he can bear it, did he not? And he
has been very brave. Would you now ruin everything he's willing to
endure? Would you doom him this easily?”  

Estel hesitated, glancing  over to his trembling lover, meeting
Legolas' desperate, pleading gaze. “I..” he croaked hoarsely, but
he couldn't continue. The words would not come. Desperately, he
tried again:”I--”

He stopped again. But Elladan just had had enough. The elder twin
growled angrily:

“You were the one who caused this! Will you back out now? Shall I
go to our father then and tell him you refused our plan so he will
turn his wrath on our Pet, or will you play along?”

Estel took another long look at Legolas' pale face, his pleading
eyes, asking him to play along, not to do anything that would
endanger the Elf's people. 

He bowed his head. 

Then, after a moment, he looked up again, searching Elladan's gaze.
“May I--” he began, then cleared his throat. He tried again. “May I
hold him?”

Elladan sneered, looking at him incredulously. “You want to hug him
*now*?!” he asked, nearly scoffing. Elrohir merely raised a brow
and watched him sceptically.

Estel shook his head. 

“May I hold him while you... -- through the whipping?” he rephrased
his request. 

Legolas looked at him a little startled, but then his eyes were
flooded with relief and gratitude. Elrohir regarded the pleading
human a moment thoughtfully, then he looked back at the slave
considering. 

He gave a slow smile.

“What an intriguing idea...” he mused, drawling the syllables while
he spoke. “I think our pet would like that, wouldn't you?”

Legolas didn't answer, but luckily enough, Elrohir did not intent
on receiving a reply. He turned to his older brother.

Elladan took a skeptical look at his younger twin's face, then he
shrugged. 

“Why not? I suppose it can't hurt,” he stated.

Elrohir tilted his head.


“Well, then, Estel, if you really want to participate, I suggest
you get rid of your clothes,” he said nonchalantly. “And hurry! The
night is long yet, and we do not want to wait much longer!”

Estel shared a last, short gaze with Legolas. Then he bowed his
head and started to strip, leaving merely his loincloth on.
Carefully and slowly, he then approached his beloved, knelt before
him and enfolded him in his arms. He placed a soft kiss to the
slightly damp cheek beside his own, then he pressed the golden head
firmly against his shoulder, laying one arm around the beloved neck
and the other around one of Legolas' shoulders. His free hand
settled against the back of his lover's head, petting him
carefully. “Are you ready?” he whispered into one delicate ear, and
felt Legolas' nearly imperceptible nod against him.

“He is ready,” he then announced for them both, and bit his lip as
Elladan grabbed the whip with the many leashes and stood. Elrohir
grinned broadly and moved aside to give his twin space. The older
twin moved behind the slave and raised the whip.

“Very well,” he said harshly, addressing his victim, “do not move
and do not make any noise, except if you are commanded to do so!
This will be twenty lashes for a start, ten to your buttocks and
ten to your back. Later this night you will taste the paddle, too.
Do you understand?”

Estel felt Legolas mutely nod against him, and flinched when a
sharp stroke was delivered to the unprotected backside of the
slave. 

“Answer me!” Elladan commanded.

Obediently, Legolas replied: “Yes, My Lord, I understand. Thank
you.” 

His voice shook a little, and Estel held him tighter. Legolas tried
hard to calm his shivering and put on a brave facade for his sake. 

Elladan simply nodded. “Good!” he said harshly. 

And he let the first blow fall.

Legolas flinched as six stinging lashes bit into his unprotected
skin at once. He bit his lips hard, to avoid crying out. He felt
Estel flinch as well, and the human's arms tightened around him. He
could hear Estel suppress a sob. He swallowed. He was grateful for
his lover's solid presence against him. And yet , at the same time
he was deeply mortified that Estel witnessed his abuse and
humiliation. It was of little consequence, perhaps, since Estel had
known for a long time his lover was a slave, and he had known – at
least in theory- of the rather cruel preferences of his brothers;
but this was different. Never before Estel had witnessed his
brothers play, or Legolas being forced to endure what they did to
him.

The next blow fell, six biting lashes crossing the burning lines
the first blow had left already on his skin. His breath hitched,
and he shivered harder. 

Estel began to murmur sweet endearments and encouragements into his
ear. “Be strong, my love! You are doing well! You are very brave! I
love you, I need you to keep silent, you can do this, be strong for
me!...” After a few moments, Legolas lost track of the words, just
kept concentrating on the beloved voice and the soft,  steady,
encouraging  murmur. He let himself be supported and strengthened
by Estel's presence, by his soft endearments, by the tight hold of
his arms. Estel shifted against him, and his chest scraped against
the clamps biting in his nipples, aggravating the nagging pain he
had almost forgotten under the burning bite of the whip on his
back. He buried his face deeper in the shoulder of his lover. The
human's hips moved against him and Estel's thigh brushed against
his trapped, straining arousal. Legolas jerked a bit and moaned.
Immediately, he was rewarded with another blow, this one even
harsher that the ones that had hit him before. Elladan's harsh
voice reminded him: “Keep silent! That will be three more blows for
you right now! You understand?”

Shivering, Legolas nodded against Estel's shoulder and whispered:
“Yes, master. Thank you!” as was expected. He could feel Estel
shiver against him. The human's hand petted his head mechanically.

Belatedly, Legolas realized that he had not been given leave to
speak again. Luckily, Elladan made no mention of his mistake, and
there was no sharp reproach. But when the next blow fell, Legolas
could not suppress a startled jerk and barely managed to stifle a
yelp. 

Several of the lashes hit his buttocks, and so they struck the
handle of the pleasure staff Elrohir had left inserted in his body.
The blows transmitted themselves along the thing directly into his
passages and made the staff throb and shift, grazing against his
sweet spot. Bolts of unwanted pleasure exploded in his head,
mingling with the pain coursing through him. He breathed hard and
tried to keep still in spite of the double assault. He buried his
face deeper in Estel's shoulder and smothered  a moan.

Sure enough, the next blow hit the handle of the staff again, as
did the one that followed.

When the whipping finally was through, Legolas was bathed in sweat
and completely exhausted. Estel's soft murmur of endearments had
become a steady stream of words, almost a prayer to his ears. The
human had held him through the pain, petting, hugging, soothing,
repeating over and over nearly inaudibly and just for his ears:
“You are strong, you can do this, only a few more blows, it'll soon
be over, you are very brave, you are my Little Leaf, I love you!”

Legolas was not entirely sure if Estel had intended to calm him, or
rather himself. But either way, it had worked, and he was grateful. 

He was relieved when Elladan finally stepped back and let the whip
drop. 

“Twenty-three,” the older twin declared. “That's it for now. At
least you managed to keep silent through it this time!”

Legolas allowed himself to slump against Estel's  solid body. The
human stroked over his dampened cheeks, his sweat-soaked forehead,
then he gave Legolas a last, tight hug and kissed him tenderly.

They were startled from their moment of intimacy by Elrohir's
voice. “They are sweet together, are they not?”

Startled, Estel looked up. Legolas carefully kept his head bowed
and his lashes lowered, yet he couldn't help shooting a hidden
glance at his cruel master. Elrohir stood close to them, studying
them thoughtfully. 

He was joined by his twin. Elladan nodded, studying the two lovers
critically. “Yes, they are,” he agreed, “especially since our
little brother is now so hard and ready he's nearly going to
burst!”

Estel flushed. Legolas started and turned his head up to look at
him, wide-eyed and dismayed. He searched his gaze.

Estel swallowed hard and looked away. He shook his head. “I... I'm
not...” he faltered. Under his loincloth, the incriminating
evidence of his traitorous body stood out hard and ready,
testifying against him.

Finally, he found the courage to look back at Legolas again and
meet his lover's eyes. “I'm sorry!” he mouthed inaudibly, his eyes
betraying both his shame and his involuntarily arousal.

Legolas lowered his lashes and looked down again. Finally he nodded
equally imperceptibly, although it took him considerable effort. 

Estel continued petting him helplessly. 

Elrohir tilted his head, studying his human brother. “He's doing
well,” he observed. He stepped close to Legolas again and tilted
the chin of the slave up so he was forced to look at him.

“You know, of course,” he said nearly jovially, “that this was just
the start. There is much more we have in store for you tonight. But
if you're very good, we may allow Estel to take you in the end. You
would like that, wouldn't you?”

Legolas shuddered, his lashes fluttering down again. He refused to
give an answer.

Elrohir smiled. He stroked over the face of his helpless victim in
an obscene caress. 

“Especially since we will take pleasure of your body tonight, but
we will not spill ourselves within you, save maybe in your mouth.
We will not grant you relief from the spell again until you are
deeply in need!”

Legolas started. He could not help looking up again, meeting the
younger twin's glittering eyes. He knew he risked more punishment
for this impudent action, but in his shock he did not care. His
startled look was echoed by Estel, who stared at his brother in
shock and disbelief.

Elrohir smiled even  wider. He stroked over Legolas' face once
more, then he started petting his hair.

“Don't fret so, little Pet!” he admonished, “'Tis for your own
good! It's part of your punishment, of course; but also Estel needs
to learn how far he can go when he decides to play, withholding
himself, how you react when you are in need, and when he needs to
feed the spell once he owns you for good.” 

Legolas jerked under his touch, staring at him in complete
disbelief. Then he quickly lowered his eyes again. Estel nearly let
Legolas go in his shock and turned to Elrohir, staring at him with
wide eyes. 

“What did you--?” he began, then he swallowed hard and began again:
“You-- you mean--?”

Elrohir grinned at him.

”What?” he asked, “Did you think we would go to all this trouble if
we didn't plan to give our pet to you in the long term, anyway?”

He fondled the lowered face of the slave some more.

“Not that we'd tire of him,” he said lightly, “He's lovely after
all! But as devoted as he is to you, we thought that in the long
run you might appreciate him more. We have been  planning to give
him to you when you came of age for a long time, now.”

Elladan narrowed his eyes. He took up the thread  from his brother
seamlessly. “Of course,” he said, “your actions today did not
exactly make it easier. Now we need to convince father that you
won't be manipulated by our slave if we give Legolas to you, but
rather that you are quite capable of handling him.”

He tilted his head. “To do that, we need your full collaboration!”
he said. “And I am not only talking about tonight. You need to
convince *father*, after all!”

Elrohir smiled. “But if you continue to do so well during the next
few months, we may still give our pet to you when it is time,” he
said. “Eventually.”

Estel stared at them, then he turned back to Legolas, grasping him
desperately. Legolas looked back at him, meeting his torn,
desperate gaze. He was frozen in fear at the twins' words. And yet.
At least, now, there was a possibility that this might not yet mean
the end for them, and for their love. For the first time since they
had been encountered by Erestor today he dared to allow himself to
hope again.

It was a desperate, a reluctant hope, but hope it was,
nevertheless.

His spark of hope, as fragile as it was, transmitted itself to
Estel. The human looked i
swallowed again and kissed him tenderly on his lips and both
cheeks.

“Then I will do that,” he whispered tonelessly. ”For us.” His voice
sounded raw and hoarse.

He placed  a last, chaste kiss on Legolas forehead and started
petting him again. Legolas bowed his head and just relished the
sensation for  a moment.

They were ripped from their intimate moment by Elrohir. The younger
twin took the leash again and tugged lightly. 

“As sweet as this is,” he said, “we should continue. The night is
not getting younger while we speak. And we have so many more lovely
things planned for you, little Pet!” He stroked over the face of
the shivering slave again, then he turned to his human brother.
“Step aside, Estel,” he commanded. “'Tis time for the next part!”

Tugging harshly at the leash once more, he commanded: “Bow down,
Pet! 'Tis time you let us use your mouth again! I think I'll leave
the first  turn to my twin; I prefer to savor playing with you a
little longer.” He shoved Legolas forward so the slave was
crouching on all fours, and gave the handle of the pleasure staff
within his victim's passage another jerk. Legolas hissed and
suppressed a whimper.

Elladan, meanwhile, settled in front of the slave and discarded his
garb, revealing his straining erection. 
He took the leash from his brother's hands and spread his legs
wide.  Then he jerked at the leash sharply, forcing the face of the
slave down to his groin. “Get started!” he growled. “Do not make me
wait!”

Elrohir, settling behind the slave, smiled evilly. “And you better
put some ardor in it,” he threatened, “or I'll coat this toy” - he
gave the pleasure staff another jerk - “with irritant!”

This time, Legolas could not suppress the whimper. Flinching under
the threat as well as under the assault of the toy against his
prostate, he hurried to obey, closing his mouth over the engorged
member of the older of his masters and starting to suckle. He
moaned around the hot flesh that filled his mouth as Elrohir pulled
at the staff, dragging it nearly completely out, then harshly
forced it in again. The substantial size of the beads- especially
the bigger ones at the base – stretched the muscles of his entrance
painfully each time another one was forced past them, and the
smaller beads at the top of the thing chafed over his sweet spot
every time the younger twin thrust the staff back in. It was sheer
torment, especially since his trapped arousal didn't allow him to
find release from the ever building pressure in his groin. 
He whimpered again and was rewarded with another sharp tug at the
leash connected to the collar around his neck. “Be silent!” Elladan
growled harshly. “I want you concentrating on your work, not on
your little discomforts!” 

Legolas swallowed around his master's member. He returned to
suckling and swirling his tongue around the engorged flesh. Then
Elladan began to move his hips, thrusting upwards, and Legolas was
nearly choked by the hot column thrusting at his throat. He jerked
as the staff within his anus was pushed in again and directly hit
his prostate. The movement set swinging the weight attached to the
clamps biting his nipples, a sharp pain vying for his attention
against the sore and burning one on his buttocks and back.
Elladan's hand gripped the back of his head painfully and forced
his face further down, and he could not prevent a sob escaping him. 

He heard harsh breathing from his side, and what sounded like a
stifled answering sob, and flinched again. He had nearly forgotten
Estel's presence.

Yet Elrohir had not. He could practically hear the younger twin's
smile in his purring voice. “Come over here, Estel! Don't worry so,
he's used to this, and he has endured worse. He told you he can
take it, did he not? Look, do you want to make it worth his while?
Here, take this toy. Yes, like this! If you move it carefully,
*this* way, you brush his sweet spot, getting him all hot and
ready...”


Legolas more felt than heard them shifting positions behind him.
Then the staff was moved in a new way. After a few awkward attempts
– Legolas jerked and gasped when the thing bumped into him without
his master's usual skill – Estel soon adapted to the toy and began
to use it expertly, finding just the right angle to stimulate his
lover. He was much more gentle than the younger twin, and he did
his best to use the thing to bring pleasure, not pain, but since
the ever building arousal he caused could not be released, his
ministrations turned into torment. Elrohir, who - unlike Estel -
well knew what he was doing, started to stroke the trapped erection
of his victim in counterpoint to his younger brother's
ministrations. 

“Sweet Pet,” he purred, “You're doing this so well! Later, we'll
let you wear the other carag, while you get to taste the paddle.
You know, the one that will hit against your sweet spot with every
blow... then you may pleasure me! If you are very good, we may even
allow Estel to let you come... of course only after you have
pleasured all three of us...”

Legolas trembled and just concentrated on bringing Elladan to his
peak as fervently as he could.


_____________ o _______________


As far as he could tell, the torment went on for hours; but he
could not be sure, since near the end, he fell into an exhausted
haze of pain mingling with need and arousal and was barely
conscious anymore. His later memories of the night were scattered
at best; glaring images standing out of a fog of muddled and
confused feelings of abuse and pain. There was the searing sting of
hot wax on his engorged cock, himself moaning in anguish, then the
relief when his hurting flesh was soothed by Estel's cool, loving
tongue; there was the moment when, finally, the twins allowed Estel
to remove the trappings and to take him, and his lover spilled
himself inside his body, granting him the delivering release as
well.  He barely registered that he was held, petted,soothed,
barely registered gentle hands picking him up and carrying him out
of the room, putting him to bed on  soft, clean sheets, then
starting to soothe and clean his bruised and sweat-soaked skin with
a damp cloth. It took him quite some time until he drifted back to
full consciousness again and finally registered where he was.

He started, nearly jumping up. He was lying in Estel's bed, in
Estel's chambers, and Estel was sitting beside him, patiently
moistening again the cloth he had used to wash the grime and other
fluids from the abused body of his lover.


______________ o _____________


Startled, Legolas tried to sit up. “Estel!” he said, alarmed.
“What?--”

Gentle hands pushed him back down into the pillows, stroking over
his shoulders soothingly. “Shhh!” Estel said. “Don't worry! It's
all right. They told me I could take you with me.”

Legolas allowed himself to be pushed back down, too exhausted to
struggle. He was confused and his mind was still a little fuzzy.
“But-” he protested feebly. 

Estel shook his head, his face grim. “No 'but'! My brothers told me
it would be all right, they would defend it to my father.”

His face twisted as if he were in pain. “They said I need to
'practice', after all!” he added bitterly. 

He dampened the cloth again and quickly looked away. 

Legolas looked at him,startled,then he sighed and settled
obediently back into the pillow. Images threatened to come  back,
lurking just at the edge of his mind, and he shivered. He was glad
of the wet cloth returning to his brow.  

He closed his eyes, trying to banish the assaulting pictures, and
failing miserably. He had no words, no expression, to voice his
feelings of despair, of pain mixed with disgust. He did not dare
even to look at his lover.

Exhausted, he allowed himself to drift back into his fuzzy haze
again. Suddenly, one of the images turned up in his head and stood
out in sharp relief. 


Estel, breathless in obvious arousal and complete fascination,
while Elrohir dips the candle over Legolas' unprotected groin,
telling him: “Don't make a noise! If you are very good, afterwards
Estel will soothe you!”

The hot, searing wax pouring down on him with a ghastly burning,
he, jerking back, trying to stifle a whimper only half-
successfully; Elrohir jerking lightly at the chain connected to the
clamps on Legolas' nipples in punishment; then telling Estel that,
since the slave at least *tried* to obey, he may reward him and
soothe him anyway. 

And Estel complying; the cool mouth of Legolas' lover closing  over
his hurting, swollen member, suckling it delicately, while Elrohir
is dribbling hot wax on Legolas' abused nipples in counterpoint....


Legolas' eyes snapped open, and he stared wide-eyed and hurt back
at Estel. 

“You liked it! he stated in dismay and betrayal. “You--” he could
not go on, and his voice faltered.

What had he expected after all? He was a *slave*. And Estel had
never experienced anything like that before, while Legolas himself
had endured such games for a long time, now. Even his body had
betrayed him again; his twin masters were very apt at coaxing his
involuntarily reactions. They had trained him very thoroughly,
after all.

How, then, could he blame his human lover for succumbing to the
twins' potent game of seduction?

Legolas lowered his lashes, dropping his gaze in shame and despair. 

Estel had looked pained and guilty for a moment at his accusation,
then he quickly looked away. Now, he vigorously took the cloth and
the bowl with water he had used to dampen it, and jumped up,
sloshing some water in the process. He set the bowl and cloth away
on the night stand and turned around. Facing away from Legolas, he
stood there for a moment indecisively, then he grabbed a blanket
and turned around again. 

“You should sleep now,” he grated out curtly, “you must be
completely exhausted!” -- And with that, he turned again and walked
over to the fireplace, obviously intending to spend the night on
the big, soft fur that lay there.

Miserable and dismayed, Legolas watched him go. He turned around
and buried his face in one of his arms. He felt as if a big chasm
was about to open up right under him, a great, big emptiness,
threatening to swallow him whole. Bereft of Estel's closeness, of
his support, his love... bereft of the touch of his once so gentle
lover... 

He couldn't stand it. “Don't go!” he begged, nearly choked and just
barely audibly, “Please, don't ...” he could not finish. He wasn't
sure if Estel even heard him, or if so, if he would want to return. 

Trembling and alone, he lay in bleak despair, without any hope and
warmth left to him.

The mattress beside him  shifted. Gentle hands touched him, holding
him hesitantly.

“I'm here,” Estel said. “I will not leave you!”

Legolas let out the breath he had been holding. And yet he trembled
under the gentle touch. As grateful as he was, he could not bring
himself to turn around immediately. 

The touching hands  left him. It was as if he was left again to
emptiness. But at least the sheets didn't shift again. Estel
remained at his side. 

Tentatively, Legolas dared to turn around again. He risked a
hesitant look at his lover. 

The human sat there, face torn and troubled, staring at his hands.
“I'm sorry,” he finally grated out, “It's just...” he trailed off.

All of a sudden, Estel jumped up again and turned away. “Do you
think it was easy?” he spat angrily, fists balled, facing away from
Legolas.”To see this... what they did to you... and how you
reacted...” he trailed off again. Legolas  could hear his anger and
embarrassment in his voice.

Legolas sat up and looked at him. He didn't answer. He merely
watched his young lover's back, mutely and miserably.

Finally, Estel turned around to him again. His face was flushed
with pain and embarrassment; but there was still a great amount of
anger.

“So maybe I did like it,” he admitted angrily, “a little! I didn't
want to! I cannot help the reactions of my body! And I've never
seen anything like this before! Besides...” He stopped and looked
at Legolas accusingly. “*You* did not seem exactly unaffected,
either!”

Legolas eyes widened in pain. Then he bowed his head. 

“I... I have no control over...” he began, then he paused. Finally,
he said quietly: “I cannot help the reactions of my body, Estel.
Your brothers  are very skilled at forcing the stirring of my flesh
upon me. That doesn't mean I like it.”

He looked up again, very hesitantly, and met Estel's gaze. 

The young man wore a 'there, you see?' expression, but there was
bitterness and shame mixed under it. Legolas could see his warring
emotions, reluctant arousal, disgust at himself, and shame.

“Aye!” Estel said, “they are quite skilled at manipulating others.
Their ploy succeeded with me, too!”

Legolas held his gaze for a moment, then he closed his eyes and
bowed his head again. “I know,” he whispered, “forgive me! It is
not your fault!”

He swallowed, staring at his hands. “You must be disgusted with me
now!”

The mattress shifted again as Estel settled down beside him. Daring
a look, Legolas saw his lover shaking his head. 

“Believe me,” Estel said, “if I am disgusted, it is *not* with
you!” He looked away again, then he turned back to his lover and
assured him: “I could never be disgusted with you!” He swallowed
hard. His eyes betrayed his emotional upheaval, shame and
bitterness warring with guilty desire. 

Then, after a moment, his anger and dismay broke through again. “In
any case, what does it matter if I like it, anyway? It's not as if
we had a choice! We need to play their game, or they will kill
you!”

He turned back to Legolas. With fierce determination, he said: “And
I will not let that happen, Legolas! I will not have you being
killed! I will do anything I need to make sure you stay alive! And
if that means we need to play their wretched game, then that's what
I will do!” He had tears in his eyes and was trembling in anger.

Legolas believed he had hardly ever seen Estel more beautiful than
in his vehement determination.

And yet..

He bowed his head again. 

“I do not like being hurt and abused, Estel,” he said.

Estel relented. “I know,” he said tonelessly,”I'm sorry.” He
reached out and caressed his lover's shoulders, then his face.

Finally he said: “Look, it's just for a few months! We need to play
along convincingly, until they give you to me! Elrohir and Elladan
have practically promised to do so when I come of age. And as soon
as you truly belong to me, we will leave! We can live with the
Rangers, or anywhere we choose. We do not need to play their games
anymore, and nobody can tell me how to treat you! We just need to
play along until that time!”

Legolas stared at him. He wanted to believe him, oh, so much, and
yet...

Estel saw the doubt and hesitation in his eyes. He took his
shoulders.

“Please!” he said fiercely. “I need you to trust me! I cannot lose
you, and I cannot watch you being killed! I love you! Please,
beloved! Trust me! Let me do this!”

Legolas was touched by his fierce pain. He leaned forward and
touched their brows together. “I love you, too,” he said, “I do
trust you, Estel.”

Estel's arms came up around him.

“I love you, Little Leaf!” the human whispered, “I love you so
much!” He enfolded the Elf in his arms and pressed him against his
chest, burying his face in the side of his lover's head. Legolas
could feel the wetness where Estel's cheeks touched his own. He
heard Estel's fierce, desperate murmur:

“I will take care of you! I cannot lose you! Whatever we are forced
to do, I love you. Never doubt that!”

Legolas shivered. Gratefully, he allowed himself to be held and
soothed by his lover's reassuring presence, his tight and desperate
embrace. He felt secure in Estel's intense dedication. Despite his
doubts about their future, and whether Estel's desperate game would
play out as well as his young lover hoped, he loved this human and
he trusted him with all he was, with his very soul.

Slowly, he allowed himself to relax and to be soothed into a
comfortable state of dreaminess.

He barely registered that Estel finally guided him back into the
sheets and slipped into the bed beside him. That night, they
finally found rest, nestled into each other's arms as if that was
enough to shelter them against the world around them./ //

___________________ 0 ______________

Legolas woke with a start.  Disorientated and confused, it took him
a moment to get his bearings. Then it came back to him: the
Fellowship; the Quest; the last few days. The wonderful, amazing
gift his master had given him this evening. Estel, still holding
him in his arms, was fast asleep beside him.

Legolas debated his options. For a few moments, he fought the
nearly overwhelming urge to jump up and flee; or at least silently
sneak away and relieve the one of the Fellowship who was currently
on guard, taking over for the remainder of the night. He needed
time to be alone, to think and face his memories. 

But Estel wouldn't understand it if he fled him now, especially not
after their gentle love-making earlier that night. 

Still...

Carefully, Legolas began extracting himself from the human's
embrace, trying not to wake the ranger up. He wasn't successful, of
course; even deeply asleep Aragorn was much too alert and far too
tuned to wake at the slightest sign that something was amiss. When
Legolas finally sat up, he found a hand on his arm and looked down
into the questioning eyes of his master.

“What is it, Little Leaf?” Aragorn whispered, concerned.

Legolas took the hand restraining him and kissed it. 

“It's nothing, My Lord,” he replied equally quietly, “I merely need
to relieve myself.”

Aragorn didn't comment; he just held his gaze a moment. For long
heartbeats, Legolas felt the watchful gaze of his master bore into
him. Then Aragorn relented. He merely nodded and let him go. 

“Don't stay away too long,” his master admonished. ”We both need
our rest, tonight.”

Legolas gave him an obedient bow and stood. He didn't look back
when he left, out of habit taking his weapons with him.

Outside the camp, finally, blessedly alone, he raised his face to
the clouded sky and let the silence of the night sink into him.
There were no stars tonight; nothing to give him strength. There
was not even a tree close to their campsite anymore.

He felt the memories he tried to avoid, lurking just at the
backside of his mind. He knew he could not flee them. Closing his
eyes, he braced himself for the onslaught and let them come.


// / That first night had only been the first, of course, and only
the beginning. During the next few months, they adhered  to Estel's
plan, since they had hardly any choice about it. The twins
successfully defended their decision to let Legolas stay with Estel
during the nights against their father, and so the one good thing
about that time was that Legolas and Estel could spend much more
time openly together, although they still needed to be careful how
they behaved. 

But of course, the downside was that the twins made good on their
threat to teach Estel all about their games, and they were very
inventive. They taught him all the devious ways of abuse and
torment, of cruel punishments, harsh handling and rough taking, of
prolonged arousal and barbed rewards a pleasure-slave could be
subjected to, always using Legolas as object of demonstration. They
taught their brother about enforced pleasure, the use of toys and
of restraints, which necessary preparations should be taken, which
elements of caution should be observed to avoid severe injury or
lasting damage, and how long any marks or bruising needed to heal.
He also learned how to mix pain and pleasure, how to play with
anticipation and with fear, and play prolonged games with cruelty
and threats. He learned to distinguish between game and punishment,
and of course also how to treat any injury and how to soothe. They
used Legolas during that time more harshly and more frequently that
they had for long years, almost since the first time when he had
come into their hands and they began to train him for their cruel
purposes.

But that wasn't the worst of it. 

It still hurt him to recall that time; not so much because of what
the twins – and necessarily, Estel – had done to him, but because
of the change it brought about in his lover.

The worst was that during these months, and to his own dismay,
Estel discovered that he truly liked the games his brothers taught
him. 

Of course, whenever he and Legolas were alone and unobserved, and
when the twins had finished with their games and lessons for the
day, Estel was nothing but tender with his lover, took care to
gentle him and soothe him, and treated him with love and with
concern. It was mainly Estel's continuing support that made the
whole time bearable for Legolas. 

And yet it couldn't be denied that Estel acquired a profound taste
for games of dominance and cruelty during bed-play, and soon could
hardly get enough, even when, given the choice, he would still have
preferred to play much gentler games than those preferred by his
brothers. He and Legolas even had a few confrontations about that. 

One of these Legolas recalled in sharp clarity.

***************

It was the morning after a particularly trying night. Legolas was
exhausted. The twins had been excruciatingly  hard on him the night
before, and used restraints, toys and the whip quite generously.
Estel was busy applying some healing salve to Legolas' abused back,
kneading the hurting muscles. Elrohir and Elladan had amused
themselves – and Estel -  with tying their slave up and leaving him
restrained for hours, while they played their games. In addition,
they had made him ask for punishment, whenever he found himself
forced to break one of their rules – for example, not to move, or
to keep silent during their torment... and afterwards, they made
him thank them for it. It was one of their favorite games. 

It was a game that had Estel quite fascinated.

A little concerned, Legolas could feel Estel tracing the whip marks
on his back thoughtfully.

“You heal fast,” he observed. “They are fading already. I feared
they would last longer.” He kissed one.

Legolas sighed. “Elladan was careful not to break the skin,
although he made sure the welts will last a day,” he said. “It's
one of his games.” He didn't elaborate; Estel knew as much already.
If he and his human lover made love today, gently and caring,
Legolas would pay for it with pain. Elladan had made sure of that.

Estel nodded. 

“Elladan was very harsh with you last night,” he said. “I wish he
had not gone that far. But you were very brave! I was proud of
you.”

Legolas froze. “It's not my choice to feel the whip, Estel,” he
said carefully. “I bear what is done to me as best as I can. Why
would that make you proud?”

Estel blushed. He didn't answer. Finally, he said: “It's just... I
thought...”

Legolas sat up and turned around to him. “You liked it,” he said
with dismay. It did not surprise him anymore. Estel's arousal at
his brother's cruel games was nothing new. His lover's
involuntarily  reaction still hurt sometimes, but Legolas had told
himself that he could deal with it. At least, as soon as they were
alone, Estel was caring and considerate. And yet...

Estel blushed profusely. He looked away. Finally, he drummed up
enough courage to meet his lover's eyes again.

“I... Yes, well. Maybe, a little. Some. I mean... I have to admit,
some of what Elladan did to you last night was pretty exciting.
When he trailed that whip over your skin, without hurting yet, and
some of the toys he used... the way you reacted, the way your skin
flushed... and when he made you ask for more...”

He swallowed. Reluctantly he admitted: “Some of this was very
arousing. I thought, if he had but done a little less, stopped much
sooner...”

He bit his lips. His face was very red now. After a moment, he
mumbled: “I'm sorry. I just..” He looked away again.

Legolas was silent. After a long moment, he said carefully: “You
know I do not like being hurt, Estel.”

Estel flushed even harder. He turned back to Legolas again, reached
out and took his lover's shoulders.

“I know,” he said seriously, meeting his lover's eyes. “I'm sorry.
We do not need to do this when we are alone.”

It sounded sincere enough, but there was a very small tinge of
regret in his voice. And Legolas could see the longing in his eyes. 

The Elf took a sharp breath. Probably he should have expected that
it would come to this. Still...

Fighting the feeling of betrayal - sharp and painful as freshly
broken glass - within his soul, he stated: “But you would like to.”

Estel pulled back a little and let go of his shoulders. He looked
away. He swallowed.

Finally, after a long pause, he dared to turn back at his lover.

“Well, yes, it would be... I mean, I thought... I thought it would
be incredibly exciting if you maybe would do something like that
for me, sometimes. I mean, *just* for me.” he said. “If you would
let me... you know. Do what they do. Some of it. Not all. I would
never go that far, of course, if we did something like that
together.”

Legolas looked at him incredulously. “Doing *what*?” he asked,
“Being whipped? Hurt? I told you that I do not enjoy pain! I... I
was commanded to suffer the whip, Estel. I did not choose to feel
it!”

Estel looked down, refused to meet his eyes.

After a long moment, he looked up again. “I know,” he said. “I
meant... if you would agree to let me tie you up... maybe spank you
a little. Maybe try some toys. I mean... I would be gentle. I would
not go that far. I would... take care that you could bear it. You
know? I thought if we could try something like that sometimes – not
at the command of my brothers, not because we are forced to play
along, but freely... if you would let me do that sometimes, as a
gift... it would be incredibly arousing!”

Legolas looked at him for a long time. He told himself he should
probably be grateful that Estel at least did not simply *demand*
that he should serve him in this way, but asked him first. And
yet...

And it was true, Legolas reacted much more excitedly than on
earlier occasions when the twins had been playing their games.
Because now Estel would be there and hold him, and would encourage
him during Elladan's and Elrohir's cruel play. Would  even tell him
how brave he was, how proud he made his lover, and how much Estel
loved to see him excited...and at the time, Legolas would  take
every support he could, too caught in the fog of arousal mingled
with pain forced on him to think clearly anymore.

Somehow, Estel being the one who held him, savored his body and his
flesh, made a difference. 

Still...


Estel took his silence as a good sign. Carefully, very hesitantly,
he continued: “You know, I thought about it. We could... maybe we
could use code words. Like we do in battle. If you want me to stop,
very badly, you could say one word we agreed on. Or, if you wanted
me to go more slowly, or do something else, but not stop completely
yet, you could say another. And I would make sure that you would
not be harmed, and that you found completion, too. Something like
that.”

Shyly, he added: “Maybe... maybe, this way, you could even enjoy
it?”

He looked up. He saw his lover's troubled, defeated face and paled
a bit. Hurriedly, he added: “But of course we do not need to do
that! We can keep making love as you like it. Sweet and tender.” He
swallowed and added, as sincerely as he could: “I like that, too!”

Legolas looked at him, sadly, already mourning his sweet and gentle
lover. Of course, Estel was young and impressionable, and he was
the only human among Elves. It should be no great surprise he would
like power-play. 

Still, the way Estel worded his suggestion, it sounded very
thoughtful and caring. Almost sweet.

And yet... 

After a  long while, he stated carefully: “You know, I am a slave.
If you wish to treat me as one and order me to pleasure you this
way, you can always do so. Your brothers won't object, I am sure.”  

He kept his face carefully blank, although he could not stop the
bitterness in his voice.

Estel cringed. For a moment, he looked at him, startled. Then he
shook his head. “I know,” he said, “but I do not want that! I want
you to be my lover, slave only in name! I want you to agree to this
and do it for me sometimes, as a gift. Very rarely, just some
special play. And I want you to love and desire my company and
touch, not fear it!”

He took his lover's face into his hands and kissed him. “I love
you, you know! I admit I've been aroused by the games my brothers
play, and I find them exciting, but it is *you* I love. And I want
you to be happy. With me!”

Legolas looked into his serious, sincere eyes and felt as if he
could drown within them.

“I want that, too, Estel,” he said. “I will think about it.”

Estel kissed him again, and this time, Legolas gave himself
completely over to the sensation.


****************************


They made love again, that day, sweet and tender, although
Legolas' back and buttocks still hurt from the abuse the night
before. 

And when they indeed tried some games alone, a few weeks later,
Legolas found that Estel was serious with his suggestions. Estel
was nothing like his brothers, when they tried harsher play. He was
content with much less, he was considerate, and it was very much
more power play than cruelty he was interested in. What aroused him
mainly was Legolas' submission, his obedience, and not the least,
his trust. To his own surprise, Legolas discovered  that he found
some of this play even enjoyable, although he still much preferred
their usual tender sharing.

And if it had been just these few, occasional games, Legolas could
have happily adjusted. But of course, with every month that became
a more demanding task. For it could not be denied that, while when
they were alone Estel was still mostly gentle, caring and
considerate, at the same time he was developing a slightly cruel
streak, not enough to completely corrupt the character of the young
human, but still enough to be somewhat noticeable. 

It didn't exactly help that Estel was *encouraged* to act as a
harsh and stern master and  whenever they were not alone, they
needed to observe a strict conduct of dominance and obedience.
Nearly imperceptibly, Legolas' gentle lover adopted more and more
attitudes of a master and began to *expect* his lover to submit to
him, even outside their bed-play. Legolas registered it with
dismay, but was powerless to work against it. 

Still, Legolas loved him. And at least, this way, Estel was less
likely to slip in public.

Besides, when they were alone, Estel was still his caring, gentle
lover, and Legolas was happy enough to be with him.

Estel's first aim during that time was still to keep him safe,
until the moment when Legolas would finally belong to him alone.
The day when he came of age at last, and Legolas and he would
finally be bound together./ //


Legolas shook himself out of his bitter musing and forced his mind
back to the present. He looked around. He needed to go back; he had
been away too long already. Aragorn would be waiting.

Resigned and bitter, he turned around and made his way back to the
camp.


_________________ o _______________


As he had known, when he returned, his master was still awake.
Aragorn had waited for him. He gave his Elf a concerned and
questioning gaze when Legolas approached him carefully. 
Yet thankfully, he did not comment on the long absence of his
slave.  Instead he merely opened his arms and let him snuggle up to
him again. Legolas hesitated but a moment, then obeyed. Finally he
was back nestled in the human's arms. Aragorn started petting him
slowly.

When Legolas' obvious tension failed to die down under the soft
caresses after a while, he asked quietly: “Bad dreams again?”

Legolas merely nodded.

Aragorn kissed the  top of the head that was nestled just under his
chin. “I'm sorry, Little Leaf,” he said, “I had hoped to give you
cause for better ones tonight.”

Legolas shivered. He looked up to his master and dared a kiss. “You
did,” he said. “I'm sorry, My Lord. It is not your fault.” Yet he
quickly looked down again. “It's just...” he didn't continue.

Aragorn didn't answer. He watched his slave with concern and with
grief. He kept quiet, just continuing to pet him.

After a long while, he finally said quietly: “Try to find some
rest, anyway, Little Leaf. We have hard days awaiting us. You need
it!”

Legolas froze a moment; then he decided not to ask any questions.
He only nodded. Held  securely by his master, he succumbed to the
gentle petting, finally drifting off into his dreams. 

He knew he could not escape the memories tonight.


_____________  o _________________


Legolas dreamed....


// / It was night, nearly the last of the third decade of Echuir(2)
and the one before Estel's birthday. Even here in Rivendell, the
early spring nights were still rather cold, so the shutters of the
room were closed and the room was lit with numerous candles, and a
healthy fire in the fireplace offered comfortable warmth.  The
little table near the fireplace held an inviting flask of strong,
scented wine, and a bowl of sweets. Yet Legolas doubted very much
that Estel even was aware of these offered comforts. The Elf  lay
on his lover's bed, watching the young human pace. 

Estel was furious. He had just come back from a long discussion
with his foster-father, and obviously, it had been a nasty one.

“He will not give you to me!” he suddenly burst out. “He said, he
does not trust me to be a stern enough master to you. He thinks
that you will seduce me to your will, that I will be wax in your
hands and will be easily manipulated at your wish and whim. That I
will be far too trusting and too gentle to keep you in line.”

He turned around and stared at his lover. “He even threatened to
take you away from my brothers and give you over to Erestor!” He
sounded both angry and desperate.

Legolas' heart sank. A few weeks ago, the twins had wheedled from a
very reluctant and objecting Elrond the agreement to give Legolas
to Estel at their brother's coming-of-age ceremony, arguing how
well Estel had taken to their lessons and how strictly he now
observed the conduct of command toward the slave. They also argued
how well the two worked together when in battle, and how useful it
would be for Estel to have a loyal and obedient slave guarding his
back. Only after long and hard discussions and much intervention
from Glorfindel, Elrond had finally agreed. Of course, Legolas had
feared that Elrond would find a way to go back on his promise and
to  take him from Estel at the very last moment, but to hear it was
happening now was still a shock. And of course, Elrond had found a
way to make it worse, maybe judging correctly that the twins would
just continue to share Legolas with Estel, anyway.

At least as long as Estel stayed in Rivendell...

Legolas bowed his head. “Then  all has been in vain?” he asked,
“The last few months, all that 'training' has been just a sham to
drive a wedge between you and me?”

Estel shook his head. His face was grim. “Nay,” he said grimly,
“for father said if I would prove to him that I can be a harsh
master to you, stern and ready to mete out severe punishment when
called for, he would still give you to me! He demands a
demonstration.   He says, only thus can I  prove that I am worthy
of my forebears, each of them a hardy and strong chieftain, stern
and ready to command and enforce his power with harsh judgment.”

He spat the last words with disdain. Then he shook his head. “Can
you imagine? He demands of me that I take you harshly. In front of
his eyes. *That's* what he claims I need to do to prove to him I'm
worthy of my name! Aragorn, son of Arathorn, chief of the Dunedain
of the North, and Isildur's last remaining heir. As if I ever asked
for that heritage he kept from me for so long!”

His face was torn and upset and his voice shook with disgust. 
He balled his fists. Angrily he turned around again and resumed his
pacing.

Legolas looked at him, sadly and yet admiringly. Even in his wrath,
Estel was beautiful. It was only fitting that he should be the heir
of Isildur, a noble scion of kings and the hope of men if destiny
so willed it. 

Even if it looked as if he would have to take up that destiny
without his lover. 

Gently, but sadly, Legolas said: “It is a noble heritage. It fits
you.”

Estel turned back to him again. 

“It does not fit me so much as you do,” he said. “I do not care for
my noble ancestors, or for my destiny. I only care for you!”

Legolas looked at him, wide-eyed and captivated. He did not believe
that Estel – no, he corrected himself mentally, *Aragorn* – was
truly as unmoved by his own heritage as he just claimed to be; too
long had the young human strived to learn where he belonged and
from whom he really stemmed. Still, to hear Estel's passionate,
heartfelt confession and renewed proof of his love was incredibly
endearing.

Even if this was perhaps the last night they would ever share,
Legolas would be glad to his last day on Arda that he had known
this human's  love.

Very quietly, he asked: “So this is goodbye, then?”

Estel stared at him. Then, suddenly, his face adopted a determined
expression. He shook his head.

“No,” he said decisively, “it's not! I will not lose you about
this. I'll do what father says!”

Legolas started. “You would... you would hurt me?” he asked, taken
aback, then added carefully: “You would torment me as your father
demands?”

Estel's face was grim, but there was a determined light shining in
his eyes. He nodded.

“If I have to,” he said, “if that is what it takes to make him give
you to me for good, then, yes, I will!”

He saw the disbelieving gaze in his lover's eyes, his falling face,
and stepped close. He took his reluctant lover by the shoulders.

“Look,” he said, “it is easy! We give them a good show! I'll do
what father demands and take you harshly during that wretched
ceremony of his! You will suffer, yes, but not worse than what you
have endured many times already, at the hands of my brothers. And
in reward, father will have no choice but to give you to me. He
promised after all!”

Legolas was taken aback. “Estel,” he objected, “I...” he trailed
off and swallowed. Lowering his lashes, he bowed his head. Estel
bit his lips. He leaned forward, touching their foreheads together.
But he didn't relent. 

Quietly, he clarified: “He demands that I take you harshly during
the ceremony. You know, hurt you, whip you really badly. Something
like that. If I agree to that, he will give you to me.” He raised a
hand and caressed Legolas' face, then kissed him. 

“Look, think of the gain!” he said pleadingly. “One hour of
suffering, and after that you will be mine! You will be bound to
me, both in law and under the spell, and will be mine for good. And
then we can leave! We go to my people, to the Rangers. We can be
together any way we want, and as much as we want it. I could take
care of you, I could protect you. Nobody could gainsay me if I
treated you as my equal! Among my people, I would not need to treat
you as my slave. You would be my servant and beloved companion, and
I would always have you at my back. You will be able to speak
freely. I will take you with me on my travels, to campaigns,  to
places. We will be fighting side by side! And nobody could hurt you
any more, unless I allowed it. Which, of course, I won't.” 


He kissed him. Tenderly, suggestively, he continued: “And I would
not have to share you anymore, or fear that you will be claimed
back by my father. I will not have to justify my love for you!  I
won't have to share you with my brothers anymore. We can make love
as often as we want and as we like it. Tenderly, loving, like you
like it best. And maybe, sometimes, very rarely, we could do it
rough and harshly, too.” Another kiss. “You could give me these
times as a gift. Something special, just for me. And I could take
care that I do not go too far or do anything you cannot bear. And
afterwards, I would soothe and pamper you, until you got completely
tired of it!” He smiled.

More seriously, he added: “And all that for a hour of suffering and
a bit of show! I know this ceremony will be hard on you, but think
what we gain by it!” 

He kissed his lover's cheeks. “Won't you let me do this?”

Legolas looked up and met his eyes. Despite his doubts, he felt
himself taken by the spell woven by Estel's fierce words. He met
the human's eyes hesitantly.

“You know of course,” he said carefully, “that when I am your slave
you are well within your rights to use me any way you want, even if
you make me suffer for your pleasure.”

Or subject me to punishment I don't deserve, he didn't add. Yet
Estel caught his meaning.

He kissed him.

“I know, beloved,” he said seriously, “but I do not want to use
you! I want you to be my lover and to give me such times freely,
as a gift. I do not want you needing to fear our time together. I
love you, and I want you  to enjoy being with me! I would prefer
for you to be my lover, not my slave.” 

Legolas felt himself melting inside and knew he would do anything
for this one human.

“I love you, Estel,” he said, “I will do as you wish. I will be
honored to belong to you!”


_________________ 0 __________________


The scene changed. Legolas found himself tied between two posts,
naked, shivering in the coldness of the early spring day. Even more
than the cold, he was mortified by the display. Earlier he had been
presented to Estel, collared and clad in loose, ceremonial garb,
and told to kneel and swear his allegiance to him, since Aragorn,
son of Arathorn, formerly known as Estel Elrondion, would be his
future master. He did so gratefully, swearing his oath into Estel's
hands. Then Elrond commanded him to be stripped and chained between
the posts for the ceremony of extension of the spell to his new
master. Legolas already knew the proceedings, having endured them
twice. Estel – Aragorn – knew them, too. During the last few weeks,
Elrond had taken care to teach his foster son everything he knew
about drugs, herbs and about the workings of the spell with which
Aragorn's future slave would soon be bound to him, and how to
cast, feed and extend it at need.

Still, to suffer through this whole ceremony again, with Elrond,
Elrohir and Elladan, and Erestor as witnesses, not to mention
Glorfindel, was painful enough. And it was not as if he had any
choice, or any way of escaping. It would not have needed the chains
and several armed guards to keep Legolas subdued and in line.

Elrond droned on, talking of responsibility, of Aragorn's noble
heritage and of his destiny, and that as a special gift, the lord
of Rivendell had decided to give this slave to him as property,
unlimited by the usual rules applying to a Mirkwood hostage. From
this day onwards, the slave would belong to Aragorn alone, to do
with him whatever he wished, without conditions. He would be free
to kill, torture or mutilate him if he so decided, and use him any
way he wanted. And nobody could use or touch the slave henceforth
without Aragorn's explicit permission, as soon as the spell was
extended to him. The ceremony would be held according to the old
customs; however, on this special occasion, and since the new
master of the slave was human, not an Elf, it had been decided to
give the slave special treatment, so he should from the first hour
learn his place and understand his complete subjection to his
master's power. Therefore he would be taken harshly and  be given a
small taste of what would await him, should he earn his master's
wrath...  And more of the same in different wording, all spoken in
ancient and ceremonial Quenya, which Legolas had a hard time
understanding, since he knew it mostly just as written language.

He looked up, startled, though, as Elrond laid out one special
condition of the new arrangement. 


“And since my foster son,” the lord of Rivendell said, “will take
this slave with him when he leaves to join his people, and will
depend on the slave's loyalty in the wilds, I rule that this time
the spell shall be wound tighter. It shall be such that this slave
will need his master's attention at least every fortnight, and will
not survive much longer than a month without him!”

Legolas swallowed and met Estel's eyes, who looked back at him,
similarly startled, but with fierce determination. Estel was set on
going through with this. Nothing would deter him now from achieving
the extension of the spell to him and gaining Legolas for himself
alone. Besides, he and Legolas shared their bedding at least every
other day, and even more often when they got the chance. Sharing
their bodies at least every fortnight should hardly be a problem
for them, then.

Or so Estel thought until he heard the teasing of his brothers.

Elrond had finally concluded his speech and went on to begin the
practical part of the ceremony. Legolas shuddered as he was forced
to sip the hated *sogo nen aniron* – four sips, again, since
Glorfindel had declined his active participation in the ritual this
time - and when the even more hated, hideous preparation staff was
brought into his vision. He was required to kiss the thing, as sign
of his acceptance and agreement to the extension of the spell to
his new master – a cruel little idea of Elrond's, no doubt, to
further torment and humiliate him. 

Then the staff was inserted and the torment began. He refused to
show his pain this time, refused to fight, to cry or even whimper;
but it was hard, feeling the violation by the thing, then the pain
when the salve was rubbed into his hurting flesh. He did not pay
attention to the exchange of teasing between Estel and the twins.
Only when the hands rubbing the paste into him finally left his
body did he return his attention to them. It didn't surprise him
much to find that he himself was the object of the twins' obscene
and lewd jokes.

Obviously, Elladan and Elrohir teased their human brother about the
frequency with which, under the new conditions of the spell,
Legolas needed to be taken, and that it might soon exhaust the
human to keep up with these demands; they were doubting Estel's
interest and potency to fulfill such demanding duties all the time,
especially if the excitement and novelty of the new, exclusive
relationship wore off, and later, when the human aged. 

“Oh, he will be bound to you and you will use him often,” Elladan
said, “until you tire of him and all this frequent love-play gets
old and a burden!” He smirked, “Which of course may happen all too
soon, now that you won't share him anymore with us and are
unwilling to rely on our loving support! But do not worry, if you
ever tire of him and wish to get rid of him for a month or two to
follow other pursuits, you may still leave him with us for some
time!”

“And if you ever want to get rid of him for good,” Elrohir added,
“you can always extend the spell to somebody else! 'Twould be such
a shame if you let that lovely bed-toy die just because you did not
feel up to fulfilling the demands of his body anymore!”

Estel looked exasperated, but before he could say anything, Elladan
added: “Or just because you tired of him after some time. It can
happen with such frequent use, you know!”

Estel threw them a glare. He could not imagine a situation where
sharing pleasure with his lover could ever get too much.

Shaking his head, he said with conviction: “I will never tire of
him!”

He looked over to his lover and searched for Legolas' gaze.

At his place beside his twin, Elladan shrugged. “Oh, you say that
*now*! But just you wait a few years, when the novelty wears off,
and when you have had him often, then you may think differently!”

Elrohir smiled. “I've had a few slaves in my time, and most of them
I finally gave away, although a few of them were very lovely...” he
added. 

Legolas shuddered. He would have liked to ask what became of the
*others*, those whom Elrohir *didn't* give away, but he knew he
could not dare to speak. And anyway, the nagging fear the teasing
of the twins started in his soul was hard enough to bear. He hoped,
he knew, no, he was *sure*, that Estel would not simply let him die
or bestow him on another if his lover ever tired of him; but for a
moment, he could not help the sudden fear,  closing like a frozen
fist around his heart. He couldn't breathe. Bile rose in his
throat. He hardly felt the sharp pain in his anus anymore, nor the
burning need caused by the drug forced down his throat, and even
the humiliation by the renewed rape by the instrument of torment,
and by  the whole, debasing situation were hardly important
anymore. He tried to banish the sudden doubt, tried to regain his
calm. *Nay, Estel would never do that!*-- but he could not help the
doubt nagging at his belief. What if Estel's love for him grew
cold, what if his lover's fervor for him ever lessened? What if his
human lover one day lost the taste for the pleasures of the flesh,
or decided he wanted other fare? Aragorn was the heir of a long
line of chieftains. He would need to sire an heir, he would have to
marry at some time...

Would he cast Legolas aside then? Was Legolas doomed to die, or beg
for his master's attention frequently, at least often enough that
he would be spared the more painful and humiliating stages of need?

Again, he tried to banish these treacherous thoughts. There was no
need for such doubts; Estel loved him! But he could not completely
evict them from his mind. Desperately, he searched Estel's gaze,
trying to find reassurance in his lover's eyes.

Some of his inner turmoil must have shown on his face, because he
saw Estel looking at him with sorrow and concern. Then, suddenly,
the eyes of his human lover adopted a determined expression. 

Resolutely, the human exclaimed: “Then I will make sure that
doesn't happen!” And with a few steps, he was at the table where
the items needed for the ceremony lay ready to be used. He gripped
the flask with the *sogo nen aniron*. “It is this drug that causes
the need and desire for his master in the slave under the spell, is
it not?” he asked, and opened the flask.

And he brought the flask to his lips and drank deeply.

Legolas wanted to scream. He opened his mouth, tried to shout a
warning,  a desperate: 'Estel! No!!' --  but no sound came out. His
shout remained unvoiced. For in this very moment, he felt a cold,
icy touch at his neck and found himself completely frozen, bereft
of any ability to move or to make a sound. Cold, blue light entered
his mind , stopped his thoughts, held him trapped and made him an
immobile, helpless watcher. Behind him, he heard  the harsh,
commanding voice of Elrond in an angry whisper:  

“Keep silent! You have no leave to speak or interfere!” The command
was quiet, well outside Estel's hearing, but oddly clear and sharp,
as if it had been spoken directly in his mind.  Helpless and mute,
Legolas was forced to watch with burning eyes while Estel doomed
himself by this one act – and, maybe, even them both. 

He did not really know how the drug worked. But it was potent, and
it caused the need, the unrelenting addiction to the touch of his
masters; Glorfindel had once told him as much. Whatever else Estel
had just done to himself, he had made sure that he would from now
on be as addicted to this sharing of their bodies as Legolas
himself – with all that possibly ensued. 

Before him, Estel put the stopper back into the flask and set it
back onto the table. He turned back to the chained slave again and
gave his foster-father, who stood behind Legolas, a triumphant
look.

“I deem it only right that I shall need my slave as much as my
slave will need me!”

His gaze found Legolas'. With brimming tears the Elf saw his eyes,
full of love, determination, and promise. He wanted to scream, to
cry, to shake his head, and yet he could not move.

Behind him, the Lord of Rivendell spoke again. Legolas could hear
Elrond's dark satisfaction in his voice, as the cruel Elf-Lord
said: 

“Well spoken, my son! And now, begin! Show your slave how stern a
master you can be and how harsh a punishment awaits should he defy
you! Take the whip and prepare him for the extension of the spell
to you!”

Estel hesitated, but only for a moment. Then he straightened and
spoke the ceremonial words: “I, Aragorn, son of Arathorn, formerly
known as Estel Elrondion, claim this slave as my own.”

And he took the whip from the table and stepped close to the
chained slave. Legolas could see the rising need in his eyes,
answered by his own; but Aragorn's expression was still dominated
by love and regret. Then Estel stood before him and kissed him
deeply. 

Hugging him for a moment, he whispered: “Be strong, my love. 'Tis
only a short time, and then you will belong to me! I do this for
us!”

Legolas couldn't answer; the freezing light inside his mind still
prevented him from making a sound. He could just give  the
slightest of nods. 

Aragorn stepped back and held the whip to the slave's lips, as was
expected as part of this cruel variation of the ceremony.

“Kiss the instrument of your punishment,” he commanded harshly, but
his eyes communicated to his slave: 'Forgive me!'

Legolas could not answer. He could only follow the command. He
kissed the instrument of pain and closed his eyes. He heard Aragorn
take a step back.

And it began.


As whippings went, this wasn't the worst he had ever received, and
while it left him thoroughly hurting, he was not rendered
unconscious or even numb with pain. The following rape – by all his
former masters, save Glorfindel – was  much harder to bear, since
it happened in front of the guards and other witnesses. And overall
the burning need caused by the drug that made his body react in
spite of the pain added to his mortification. When finally Aragorn
took him, the last one to spill his seed in him, thereby closing
the circle of the ritual and becoming his new master –  it was as
much a release as was the forming of the bond. 

Aragorn collapsed against him, clutching him for support to stay
upright, and remained   sheathed for some time to make sure his
seed could take hold in his new slave's body.

At this point, Legolas was completely exhausted and his mind was
dizzy with the pain, the rapes and the effects of the renewed
spell. He did not perceive clearly what was happening around him
any more.

Finally, Aragorn's body slipped out of him. The chains were
released. Aragorn caught him, then he was clad in his garb again,
and heard his new master's command: “Carry him to my rooms. He
needs to rest. I will join him later!”

He did not recall who brought him to Aragorn's chambers and placed
him on the bed. He lay adrift in painful misery. He only woke when
finally, Estel was back, cradling him gently and carefully in his
arms again.

And to the present day, Legolas could clearly hear his master's
words:

“Don't cry so, Little Leaf! It is done, it's over, we did it! We
beat them! You do belong to me now! I will take care of you! I will
keep you safe! I will love you and hold you dear, and I will
protect you! And I will never let you go! You will be mine and will
belong to me as long as I live! Nobody shall ever separate us
again! I love you! Please, don't cry!” / //


________________________ o _________________


Legolas woke with a start. He was lying in his master's arms, on
the ground, in the Fellowship's camp, and it was near morning.
Aragorn was sleeping. His sleep was unusually deep and sound; not
even the slight shivering of Legolas, his moans, the shaking of his
shoulders served to wake him up. 

Legolas cast a burning gaze over to the lump on the ground he knew
to be the sleeping Ring-Bearer. The Hobbit was fast asleep, huddled
against the form of the other Hobbits. Legolas suspected he did not
need to guess who – or rather *what* – had been sending him all
these memories, and made sure that his tossing would not wake
anybody, not even Estel, so he could fully suffer them.

Not that poor Frodo was to blame, of course.

Shivering, trying to rein in the turmoil inside himself again, he
forced himself to recall the rest of it. He was glad of Estel's
arms around him.


// / Aragorn had met Arwen a few days after that ceremony, and
fallen in love with her, but that had not diminished his closeness
or interest in Legolas. Nor had much come out of that first
encounter with Elrond's daughter at the time, for Aragorn and
Legolas had left Rivendell soon afterwards. Aragorn had made good
his promise. He took Legolas with him when they left, and they went
to the Rangers; and among Aragorn's people, Legolas was treated,
for the first time in years, just as another comrade, not a slave. 

Except when it came to his own master.

Aragorn kept his word. He loved and cherished Legolas. He never
gave him up. He took care of his needs. He took him with him on his
travels, nearly everywhere he went, and he was always mindful of
his health. He treated him – most of the time – more as a comrade
or maybe as a free, trusted servant, than as a slave. He was as
ready to take risks for him, even to die for him at need, as
Legolas was for Estel. After a few years, he even went so far as to
take Legolas with him on a mission to Mirkwood, since he well knew
how much his slave desired to see his home and family again. Of
course, he risked his head during that visit, and nearly lost it,
too, since Thranduil did not take favorably to hearing that his son
had become this human's slave. But Legolas protected Estel against
him, and Legolas' father and his master separated if not on
friendly, then at least on polite terms, and in an uneasy peace.
And yet, a few years later, Aragorn risked it all over again, and a
few times more afterwards, just to give Legolas another chance to
see his home.

Aragorn also defended Legolas against the twins, even against his
foster-father, and against the other Elves of Rivendell or of
Lothlorien, and would let nobody touch him or do him harm. Indeed,
he showed him the same fierce and unerring loyalty Legolas felt for
him.

And yet.

Aragorn's determination that they should be master and slave only
in name and law did not survive the first year among the Rangers.
It died under the strain of Aragorn's new responsibilities as
chieftain and leader of his people. 

Legolas could not blame him. The sheer needs of taking command of a
whole group of people, of giving orders – and expecting them
unquestioningly followed, if an decision was made – and of
enforcing his authority at need even with punishment or with harsh
judgments soon became ingrained in Aragorn's very thoughts. He
still asked for - and often enough followed - his slave's advice,
as he did with his Rangers, but when he gave a command, he expected
obedience and would not accept any defiance. It was a necessity
most of the times, but it did not leave their relationship
unchanged. And all too soon, perhaps inevitably, it reflected on
their bed-play, too.

Nearly imperceptibly, Aragorn began *thinking* of himself as
Legolas' master, and began expecting his slave to attend and serve
his needs. Soon enough, he demanded Legolas' submission to him as
his *right* as naturally as if there had never been any question
about that.

But that wasn't the worst. After all, Legolas was *used* to being a
slave and could adapt. And Aragorn still treated him much better
that the twins had done.

The worst  was that soon and to his own alarm and dismay, Estel
discovered that he was not content with gentle love-play anymore.
That he could find no satisfaction – and, after a while, not even
completion -  if their bed-play did not include some harshness and
at least a small amount of cruelty and painful games. All too soon,
he found he could not even get excited enough anymore to take his
slave without inflicting pain on him.

But without being taken by his master, Legolas would die.

Aragorn fell into despair, then, fearing himself and being filled
with self-loathing and disgust. And Legolas did all he could to
soothe him and reassure him of his continued love and acceptance.

He never told him what he knew. Never revealed to him the reason
why Aragorn's needs became so twisted and turned darker and darker,
why Aragorn's taste for cruelty seemed to increase with nearly
every year.

For Legolas loved Estel to the very core of his being, and he could
never bring himself to tell his lover that it had been Aragorn's
very noblesse, his very wish to assure his loyalty to his beloved
and save him from his fears of being cast aside, that had condemned
them both to this bleak despair. And he could never bring himself
to tell Estel how cruelly they both had been betrayed, and how
evilly the very Elf Estel knew as his benefactor, the one who had
taken the role of Estel's father for such a long time, had twisted
his own foster-son's love and commitment for his own purposes into
this dark and cruel mockery of what it once had been. / //


Huddled into his sleeping master's arms, Legolas stared with
burning, tearless eyes, into the nearing dawn.


________________ o __________________


 -- End of Chapter VI  --


-- TBC --


Notes:

(1) carag sern aniron – Sindarin, lit.: spike (of) pebbles (of)
desire. A pleasure toy.

(2) This would be the last night of February, the 28th in our
modern calendar. In he Elvish calendar, every month had thirty
days.